After the Solar Flare (Book 1): Alone in the Apocalypse

by AJ Newman

  “Oh, I guess we’re not very good at this kind of thing. I’m Jane, this is Billy and that’s Bobby. We needed one of your guns to protect us from the drug gangs.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m 11 and they’re both 12.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  “Dead, the gangs killed our dads and took our moms to their club house.”

  “So you aren’t dangerous criminals?”

  “No, and we’re sorry. We wouldn’t really hurt anyone. We’re just scared and we thought you were part of the gang.”

  “How would you like to get out of here and go to a warmer place?”

  “That would be great. We’ve been living in that van over there and freezing at night.”

  Mary looked at me with surprise in her eyes and I quickly put her fear to rest by saying, “We have friends that are taking a bunch of kids like you farther south to a warmer and safer location.

  “Oh, yes, can we really go with them? Will you be going with us?”

  “Yes, well, until we get to their location and then we’re moving on south.”

  Bobby said, “But what about our moms?”

  I looked at him and said, “I’m sorry son, but I’m afraid it’s too late to help them. They are in God’s hands now.”

  Angrily Bobby shouted, “God’s hands! If there were a God, he would never have let this happen to us. I’ll never believe in any god, again.”

  Now, in tears, Jane asked, “Do you really think our folks are really and truly with God, right now?”

  “Yes, Jane, I also know that you are being given a chance at a new and better life than you have now.

  I guess what I’m really trying to say is just give God a chance. Times are hard, but if you open up to Him, life will get better.

  Now, all three of you get over here and let’s all have a group hug.”

  Mary joined in the hug, and I saw her eyes were wet with tears.

  I just think these kids needed to hear that all was not lost, that hope actually does spring eternal.

  We told the nuns about the kids and they were happy to help three more homeless kids. They took them into their arms and made them feel at home.

  I replaced the distributer, cleaned and adjusted the points and the bus fired up and ran like new. I gave the Nuns one of our walkie talkies so we could stay in contact on the road, then we drove south and led the way for the bus all the way to El Paso.

  “Matt, I gotta’ tell you that I believe that saving these three kids more than makes up for killing that guy on the tractor.”

  “I’m sorry? What do you mean by that?”

  “Look Matt, I’ve known you for a while and I can see you’ve been beating yourself up for ending that miserable asshole’s life. He would have killed us for a freakin’ truck.

  Whether you believe it or not, you are a hero and besides saving my life, you have added 11 kids to your list of lives saved. Put a smile on that face.”

  She reached over, kissed me on the cheek and gave me a pat on my shoulder.

  “I know you are right, but even when killing has to be done; it still doesn’t go down easy.”

  “Matt, if it ever becomes an uncaring thing, well, you just become one of the bad guys, but even though there is much more life taking ahead of us. You will never become one of the bad guys, so get over yourself.”

  My thoughts turned to Patty as I drove south. We lost two full days because we kept getting involved in other people’s problems and now I knew that I would never see Patty again. Mary and I didn’t talk about not seeing her again. It was always; when we find Patty.

  “Damn, Mary I just realized, we are out of the snow, it’s gone. The road is dry and we can speed up.”

  Mary barely woke up and mumbled, “Yeah, okay, that’s nice.”

  I shifted into two wheel drive and slowly sped up to 50 mph, and the bus kept pace. I had not asked Sister Angela if they had enough gas to make it to El Paso, fortunately they did.

  It was midnight and we were cruising at 55 mph, passing many small villages on the left and right of the road. I wondered, how are we going to find Patty?

  ***

  The kids were bored and were playing on top of the overpass when one pulled a can of black paint out of his backpack and started painting over someone else’s tag.

  “Now it says Greg was here. Write your names on it.”

  The kids were being kids and had no idea of the chain of events that a little paint could set in motion.

  ***

  I pulled over to allow Mary to drive and the Nuns to switch drivers. We all took a bio break and then hit the road again. I had stopped under an overpass and saw the painted over message on the side of the overpass.

  We drove for another four hours at 50-55 mph until we were northwest of El Paso, where several of the communities we passed through looked like WWII cities that had been bombed. We were high on an overpass and saw a section of El Paso that looked the same.

  We stopped for a roadblock at the entrance to the Woodrow Bean Highway. This was a US military roadblock. We pulled closer, got out and a guard told to get back in our vehicles until the guards could check us out.

  “Sir, what is your business and where are you from?”

  “We are from Pinedale, Wyoming and the school bus full of kids is from the Denver area. We are trying to get the kids to the Mother of God Orphanage on the southeast side of El Paso.”

  “Sir are you planning to travel south through Mexico?”

  I got the drift and replied, “No, we plan to stay in El Paso and work at the orphanage. Why does that matter?”

  “Just trying to save your lives. Thousands of Americans and Canadians are streaming towards the border to escape the polar vortex and lack of food.

  The U.S. and Canada are now at war with Mexico. Remnants of the Mexican Army and Federales are killing any gringos they find.

  They have killed thousands trying to run roadblocks and have even shot planes down for invading their airspace.

  Basically, they are really, really pissed.”

  “Thanks for the advice. May we proceed to the Orphanage?”

  “Sure, but don’t get off the road. There are hundreds of desperate people and the whole town is running out of food. We’ve only have one battalion guarding the whole area. Ft. Bliss has been closed and all equipment was shipped out a month ago.”

  “Where did they go? Where is our government?”

  “The Army attacked across the border when Mexico refused our offer to make them a part of the USA. As for the Government, I can’t answer that, but there was a large shipment of cold weather gear, snow cats and snow mobiles brought in this week for our use. Put two and two together.

  What happened in the city? There are sections that looked like they were bombed and are still smoldering.”

  “The riots were horrible. We bombed those bastards. They were looting and killing for days. We sent jets in to stop them from hitting the suburbs. Now, go on and get those kids to the orphanage. I bet they are worn out.”

  I filled Mary in on what she’d missed as we drove around the north side of El Paso. It took another hour to get to the orphanage and we had to wind through several small communities to get to it. There were no people on the streets and most windows were boarded up.

  We arrived at the orphanage and found the windows also boarded up and the front door broken in. Mary and I carefully went in and cleared the place. It really pissed me off that the looters didn’t spare an orphanage.

  There was a message spray painted on the wall inside the entrance. It read, “Sister Angela, we are starving, cold and under attack by gangs. We have headed to South America. Come to Quito, Ecuador. Watch out for the Diablo’s. They are everywhere.” It was signed Sister Grace.

  Sister Angela fell to her knees and broke into tears frightening the children. Sister Nan and Mary tried to console them while I tried to get Sister Angela back on track.

  “Sister Angela,
do you believe in God?”

  She looked up at me still sniffling and replied, “Of course I do!”

  Then why do you doubt his decision to have you and the children move farther south. He told us to move south with several messages until we got his point. The weather here will be near zero for seven months of the year.”

  “Did he also provide us with two angels to guide us to our promised land?”

  I knew my play at using her religion to get her calmed down had backfired, but neither could I leave these kids stranded.

  No way, I decided that I would get these kids to safety, or die in the attempt. My promise was sealed with the tracks of my tears. I don’t make a habit of tears, but in this case, they galvanized my determination.

  “I don’t know about angels, but we are going to get you to a safe place and God willing, find your friends. You can believe that!”

  Crying herself, Sister Angela managed to say, “Thank you for reminding me to place my faith in God. I won’t question his choice of Angels, but most aren’t armed with assault rifles.”

  “This Daniel needs all the firepower he can get with modern day lions. Oh, we also shouldn’t forget the Archangel Michael. He didn’t need an AR, but I’m no Michael, so I do need an AR.”

  I told Mary about promising to help the children travel south and her reply was, “I already knew we would help them until they were safe. You just took a while to process it in that small man brain of yours.

  Seriously, this is just something we have to do, and we will do it, or die trying.”

  Mary and I were sitting in the truck eating when I noticed two of the children were staring at us. I called them over and asked them if they wanted a chocolate bar.

  “Yes, please, we haven’t eaten in two days.”

  “What? Mary, please dig out the chow while I check with the nuns to see what’s going on with their food.”

  I walked over to the bus and signaled Sister Angela to come outside to talk.

  “Ma’am, are you short on food?”

  “Yes, that’s why we were anxious to get here to feed the children. We ran out yesterday.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I trusted that God would provide, has He?”

  “He did, but all you needed to do was tell me. Ask two of the older kids to come with me and we’ll take food back to the bus.”

  I took the kids to the trailer, found three cases of MREs and helped take them to the children.

  The kids were very hungry and ate the rations as though they were a Thanksgiving feast, which I guess it was.

  “I would never make jokes about the MREs to the kids, but they must have been starved to eat this stuff with smiles on their faces.”

  All of the children thanked and hugged us several times for the food. I knew we could only feed 15 people for a few more days with our supplies, so we had a new mission to find food.

  Later I watched as the light show ramped up as the sun went down. I wondered if the Northern Lights stretched down to the equator. I was getting used to the magical display of lights and colors.

  I walked over to the bus and gathered the nuns and Mary to help discuss our next move, and eventual destination.

  Sister Angela said, “We plan to go to Quito to join the rest of our friends.”

  “That may not work out well because we are heading to the east coast of South America. We can travel together until we get you somewhere safe.”

  “Are we going to drive there?”

  “Sister, I don’t think it will be possible to carry enough food, water and fuel to drive to Quito. I think we have to hire, buy or borrow a boat.”

  “So we travel across Mexico to the Pacific and cruise down to Ecuador?”

  “No, we will either travel to Corpus Christi, on the Gulf, or San Diego on the Pacific. We have a much greater chance of finding a boat or buying passage on one in a port city.

  The problem with that is that it will just be far too dangerous. One of the smaller fishing villages will probably be our best bet to acquire a boat.”

  “But, Matt, we have no money to purchase a boat. Please tell me that you do not plan to steal one.”

  “Sister, no, we do not plan to steal a boat, but if there is no other way, that is exactly what I will do.

  Mary and I have sufficient funds to purchase a boat if one is available.”

  Again, Sister Angela began to tear up. She said, “Matt, we will pray very hard for you, and for a boat to be available to purchase.

  I hope you understand that we have no way of repaying you for all of your kindnesses.”

  I looked at her, then hugged her and said, “Sister, your prayers and getting you and the children to safety is all the repayment we could ever ask for.

  Now, stop worrying about that repayment nonsense. We love you and will do all we can to never let you down. Okay?”

  “Okay, but we will forever in your debt. Have you decided which direction we should go?”

  “The drive to the Gulf would be the safest for finding food and water but there is no way to get through the Panama Canal.

  The drive to the Pacific is across the desert and mountains; still, crossing the desert seems like certain death, so I guess we’ll head to one of the fishing villages just south of Corpus.

  Sister, I meant what I said about getting you to a safe place, but Ecuador is probably going to prove to be impossible. I hope you realize that we cannot cross the desert, nor can we traverse the Panama Canal.”

  “I understand, God’s will be done, so Corpus Christi it is Mr. Jones.”

  “Okay, now we need to search the area for fuel, food and water before we head out. We have enough diesel fuel to make it, but your bus needs gasoline and we need about 70-100 gallons to make the trip.

  We can load the bus with water and food, but I don’t want a bunch of gas cans inside the bus so we’ll have to secure them to the back of the bus and in our trailer.”

  Mary responded, “Matt come with me to the auto parts store and the hardware stores we passed a few blocks back to get some gas cans. We’ll take the bus so we can fill it and the cans.”

  “Sounds good, as a last resort we can syphon gas out of the abandoned cars. I will search for a hand pump at the auto parts and hardware stores.”

  Mary and I took the bus to find gas and kept an eye out for food during our trip. The auto parts store had 21 one-gallon fuel cans, but only six of the five-gallon cans. We took them all since they were clean and we could store water in the one-gallon cans.

  The hardware store proved to be more fruitful. We found a dozen five-gallon cans along with two hand pumps and several thirty-gallon trashcans that we would use to hold water or food.

  The hardware store also held 16 cases of bottled water, three bags of dog food and 9 cases of Gatorade, which we loaded into the bus.

  I also found a full toolbox and several bundles of rope I added to our collection.

  All of the ammo, had of course, been stolen from the hunting section, but I found several hunting knives, axes and thermal underwear. The knives and axes I found in a drawer under the showcase. How they were missed I had no idea, but I was sure glad they did. The thermals were in an unopened FedEx box in the stock room.

  I was worried about the kids and gathered the entire display of long johns. I also found two 50-foot garden hoses to cut into siphon hoses.

  “Matt for grins and giggles let’s try that gas station for gas.”

  “It’s worth a try.”

  I was glad the garden hose had to be hooked to a clear plastic smaller hose to adapt it to the pump when I saw the muddy foul concoction heading to the pump.

  “Oh shit. Bad gas. “

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. It was worth a try.”

  We drove over to the car lot and began pumping clean gas out of the first car. The problem was that car lots don’t fill cars up that are going to be sold until they are sold.

  We decided to
check the abandoned cars that lined the street. We were doing fairly well when we came upon an F150 with a full 36 gallon tank.

  It took two hours to pump the bus full and to fill the 18 five-gallon gas cans.

  Mary pointed out that there was a new and used truck sales lot across the street and that we should find plenty of diesel fuel there. We returned that afternoon and filled the tank on the Ford.

  I was changing the hose to another truck’s tanks when Mary said, “Matt, we’ve got company. There are two men walking towards us over by the sales office. They are doing their best to not be seen.”

  I took her binoculars and saw the men. One had a shotgun and the other had a pistol.

  “Mary, let’s try to scare them off. They only have a shotgun and a pistol, not much of a match for our ARs.

  I’ll yell over to them when they get to this end of the building. If they shoot, place a round close to one of their heads and I’ll bet they run for their lives. I don’t want to kill unless they get stupid.”

  “Matt, get a grip. If they shoot I intend to drill them.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Damn.”

  I stayed low and out of sight as I moved closer to the men.

  I was only about 50 feet from them when I popped up and yelled, “Why are you sneaking up on us and what do you……….?

  “Die pendecho,” was all I heard before they began shooting at me.

  I ducked and scrambled for a better position to repel their attack when I heard two shots, then silence before Mary yelled, “All clear.”

  I peeked over the back of a truck bed and saw both men lying in front of the sales office. Mary and I kept behind cover as we worked our way to the men. One was clearly dead since half of his skull was missing. The other was writhing in agony on the pavement.

  “You fucked up Shooting a Diablo. We will hunt you down and kill your mothers and your dogs.”

  “Where does this so called gang hang out, turd?”