There were numerous requests by students to rescue their relatives, but by the time the number exceeded a couple of dozen, people began to realize that it would be impossible. At this point, some individuals ran off, either having changed their minds or hoping to bring their loved ones back before the gate was closed.
They were finally done at the university. Everyone who had shown up had been moved through to Outland. When the ash started to fall, and they hadn’t had a new refugee in a half hour, Erin decided to call it a day. They moved the last of the supplies and kindling through, then shut down the portal.
In all, they’d managed to bring across a little more than two hundred and fifty people, mostly students, and a smattering of faculty plus two security guards who’d been on campus.
The guards, Fred Mack and Anson Rutherford, were both retired cops who, according to them, had taken the security jobs to stave off terminal boredom. “You spend your entire career in the thick of things, then you retire and bam! Eight hours a day in front of the TV,” Fred explained. “Couldn’t take it. The security job is an easy gig, good for extra pocket money, and generally the most critical issue we face is timing our breaks so we get the fresh pot of coffee.”
Anson smiled in agreement. “This is the first excitement we’ve had since we took the gig.” He paused and looked around, losing the smile. “I’ll be honest, Ms. Savard. I don’t think any of these kids have thought beyond the next twenty-four hours. They’re keyed up, excited, a little stressed, but they’re still thinking of it as a drill, or maybe a temporary inconvenience. Or a bomb scare or something. If they think about it at all, they’re thinking in a day or two they’ll all be back at home. Or residence. Whatever. That’s not going to happen, is it?”
Erin hesitated, then shook her head. “This is, at minimum, going to create a disaster lasting weeks. That’s if the eruption is a small one. At the other end of the scale, most of the U.S. could end up uninhabitable for years. In past eruptions, the ash cloud has reached from southern Manitoba to Baja California to Louisiana. And I think this one might be bigger. There’s a chance that at least some of these people will never see their families again.”
Getting organized had taken a lot longer than expected, and it was getting dark before they were anywhere near ready to move. The idea of trying to shepherd so many refugees through the wilderness in pitch-black night was ludicrous, Erin knew. And those who might have suggested it would change their mind once darkness fell. Modern urban humans don’t have a real appreciation of how dark night is without artificial illumination and the resulting sky glow.
The situation was made worse by the simple fact that it was summer, and people were wearing summer clothes. These were grossly inadequate for the cooler Outland night air.
Erin suggested to Fred that perhaps he and Anson should be in charge, but Fred shook his head. “No way, darlin’. You’re doing fine. The kids listen to you. They’d just tune out a couple of old farts. But we’ll help anywhere you need it.”
She immediately deputized the two to organize security for the night. Fred and Anson discussed it for perhaps thirty seconds, then set to work. They built eight fires in a ring and split up the scavenged fuel between them. A few people were assigned to each fire to make sure the wood didn’t get burned too quickly, since a larger fire would burn through their supply much faster without providing any extra benefit.
“The fires are more for protection than for heat,” Erin said to her audience. “We want to keep the night life away from us. So don’t get the bright idea of going around to the outside of the fire ring unless you want to be a midnight snack. Take a page from emperor penguins—form a nice tight group and keep each other warm. This is no time for bashfulness.
“We’ll also need to organize guard duty. Anyone who has ever handled a weapon should speak up. We’ll need eight volunteers for each two-hour shift. Fred and Anson will take care of the details.” She gestured to the two, who gave her a couple of sloppy salutes and got to work.
It took another hour before they had everything set up to everyone’s satisfaction. By this time, full night was settling in. The first guard shift stepped up, weapons in hand, and the rest settled onto the hard ground, on blankets and tarps wherever possible, and tried to get some sleep.
The night life of Outland was, in its own way, as loud as the day shift. The biomass of an untouched wild planet was far greater than what humans had left behind on Earth. On one occasion during the night some tortured soul stood up and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Will you shut the fuck up!” That produced a lot of laughter from the other campers, but no more than a few seconds of relief.
There were shots fired a number of times, but there were no major incidents and no loss of human life. There was one close call when a large cat almost managed to sneak past a dozing guard. A scream from an insomniac camper brought the guard back to full wakefulness. And a near-miss from a full load of buckshot sent the cat scrambling for the darkness, lighter by about two lives and one dump.
After a few more encounters, the local predators decided that easier meals could be had elsewhere, and the attempted incursions tailed off. But the noise level didn’t abate all night. As some of the less-rested would later report, the nocturnal racket segued smoothly into the morning cacophony of birdcalls without a break.
It was a cold, tired, sore, and damp group of refugees that slowly stood up on their first morning in Outland to discover the first of many new realities: no coffee.
At this revelation, there was a near-mutiny. Add a cold, scary, sleepless night and no breakfast, and many people expressed regret for having come across.
On hearing the complaints, Erin ordered Richard and Kevin to turn on the gate.
As the gate opened, a cloud of dust puffed through the opening and what looked like cigarette ash fell through. Looking through the gate, people could see a blanket of ash more than two feet deep. Buildings were covered in it. At least one building within sight had collapsed. Everything had a uniform gray-brown color.
Erin stared at the ash in shock, then muttered to Richard, “That’s not good. I think we’re solidly into supervolcano territory now.”
Recovering quickly, she took a deep breath and turned to the spectators. “I’ve explained about ash-induced diseases. I won’t bore you with that again. I’ve explained about ash-induced building collapses, power-grid collapses, equipment failures, and shortened growing seasons. This isn’t theory. It’s happening now. Anyone can go back if they want, but they’d be a total fool.
“And this rescue isn’t being run by some far-off government body. It’s us, all of us. Anyone who has any ideas to improve things in any way, we would love to hear it. We’re all working this out as we go along.
“Now, you want to go back? Here’s your chance.” She motioned at the gate. There was a lot of motion as people took the opportunity to get a look, but no one accepted the offer.
After that, the crowd seemed far less inclined to complain. Her statements about not having any special knowledge or experience in this situation had paradoxically given people a lift.
Someone yelled out, “So where are we going?”
Erin replied, “We have a stockpile that we moved from a warehouse downtown to this side. It’s about a forty-five minute walk from the university. It’ll be the same distance here, but with no sidewalks and the threat of predators, it’ll take a little longer.”
“Can we go back once the ash stops?”
“Sure, as long as you don’t need to eat. Or drink water. The other side is toast. There will be no clean water. There will be no electricity. There will be no food deliveries. Of course I could be wrong, and anyone is welcome at any time to go across and check it out. In fact, we’ll probably develop a system of popping across and scavenging. But understand this, please: this side is paradise, compared to what used to be home.”
“Is there coffee at the other camp?” someone yelled from the back.
“There
’d better goddamn be, or I’m going to lose it.”
That drew laughter from the crowd, and someone else yelled, “Which way?”
Erin signaled Kevin and Richard to turn off the gate. Crisis averted. She consulted the map and her compass, and pointed. Fred and Anson divided everyone into groups and organized outriders to guard the procession.
Richard sidled up to Erin. “So what does that mean for us? The supervolcano thing.”
“More ash means more ecological damage, more destruction of infrastructure, more difficulty for FEMA and other rescue organizations. It’s just worse across the board. I was hoping if it was a normal-sized eruption we could just stay on this side for a week or so, but not with that much ash. We may be here for a long while.”
“What about the cattle drive?”
“It’s about a mile from us, based on Earthside distances, and they’ll be a while getting over here. When they do, they’ll just follow the mess we’re making as we travel.”
“Yeah, couple hundred pedestrians sure leave a trail.”
“They’ll likely be a half-day behind us by the time we get to the warehouse camp,” Erin said. “For all that the aggie students know about horses and cattle, I doubt if any of them has ever done an actual cattle drive. Pretty sure if Bill were here, he could come up with a lot of material …”
“Then let’s consider ourselves lucky he’s not here.”
Erin gave him a tired smile, and they joined the march.
46. In the News
On the Nebraska Radio Network,
our coverage of the Yellowstone event continues …
The Yellowstone eruption is currently the most-watched event in the history of electronic media. Throughout the Midwest, people hurry home to sit glued to their TVs. But In the modern era, where so much violence and calamity happens on TV without any effect on the viewer, it is perhaps unsurprising that even an event so close to home is being treated as largely theoretical. Yes, people say, the pictures are dramatic, and yes, there has been an earthquake, but that is now over. There are reports of mass casualties close to the eruption, but surely we’re at a safe distance. And yes, experts are predicting a fall of volcanic ash, but there had been ash from Mount Saint Helens, Mount Pinatubo, and that unpronounceable Iceland volcano. The worst effect of those had been some cars needing a new paint job when owners unwisely tried to wipe the ash off.
So people invite neighbors over, set up the TV on the patio, and chat, comparing notes. Government officials continue to advise calm. Law enforcement continues to reassure. And many people, accustomed to listening to the voice of authority, take them at their word and stay put.
Others have taken the issue a little more seriously but still view it as a hunker-down-and-wait-it-out situation. There are runs on banks and grocery stores. Weapons shops are doing a brisk business, especially if they are flexible about paperwork. Home improvement stores are selling out of dust masks and respirators in record time. People are making a point of refilling their water coolers and stocking up on spare jugs of water.
The smart ones will already be on their way out of town. Families that threw the absolute basics into the car and headed for the highway will be the most likely to survive what some say is a civilization-ending catastrophe.
As NBC Nightly News continues, let’s go to our field reporter, Christie Barnes, in Lincoln, Nebraska.
The ash has been falling for hours now. Within about a thousand miles of the eruption, it is more than two feet deep and is showing no signs of abating. Buildings with flat or gently sloped roofs have started to collapse, in several cases killing the occupants. Anyone who by chance survives a building collapse risks death from suffocation, since the collapse will saturate the air with both coarse and fine ash. Cloth is not at all adequate to filter it out.
Buildings with more steeply sloped roofs so far are faring somewhat better. However, the ash sliding off to the sides builds up quickly, and unlike snow, it won’t compress or melt. Building occupants could conceivably avoid a crushing death only to find themselves entombed.
For many residents, the accumulation of significant ash-fall has been a major wake-up call. The number of vehicles heading out of town has surged to a level several times higher than the worst rush-hour crush that city planners had ever conceived, and the resulting logjam has brought the roads to complete gridlock. Some drivers have attempted to go around the mess by unconventional driving, but have been stymied by other drivers trying to go around them. At this point, the sidewalks, parks, roads, and even lanes heading the opposite way are as gridlocked as the rest. Those with vehicles modified for off-road driving seem to be faring somewhat better.
There have been uncounted reports of people abandoning their vehicles, and in some cases attempting to hijack other vehicles. Several shootings have resulted.
The death toll continues to mount.
Thanks, Christie. That’s Christie Barnes, reporting from Lincoln, Nebraska.
In the wake of the Yellowstone eruption, there have been reports of profiteering by merchants. Many of these incidents have resulted in violence and looting. Police are overwhelmed and have stopped responding to calls unless gunfire has been reported.
Even in population centers far from the Yellowstone eruption, police are reporting runs on banks, food stores, weapons stores, and construction and home improvement retailers. There have been reports of violence in cases where weapons retailers have insisted on the legally mandated waiting periods before purchasing guns.
In at least two known cases, police stations have gone silent after initial reports of being under attack. Experts speculate that unknown groups have attempted to seize law enforcement arsenals.
There have been unconfirmed reports of explosions in Washington, D.C. Government officials say witness descriptions are indicative of terrorist-style attacks. So far, no group has taken responsibility.
Fundamentalist churches throughout the nation have declared the Yellowstone eruption to be the first volley in the final war of Armageddon. “The unbelievers, the atheists, the idolaters, are being punished. The only hope is through God,” said one pastor on a local cable broadcast. It is not clear, however, that the faithful are faring any better than the average person. Critics have been quick to point out that the southern states, with their sizable fundamentalist population, will be right in the path of the ash.
47. Getting Up Is Never Easy
July 26
Bill woke up at six a.m. to a new day in a new world, one filled with noisy neighbors who apparently had no concept of sleeping in.
“I goddam hate nature,” Monica grumbled. “Pave it all over, I say!”
Bill smiled weakly. He hadn’t slept as well as expected. Having Monica right there all night had been a significant distraction from the serious business of getting some shut-eye.
“I don’t suppose that ginormous coffeemaker of yours will work without electricity?” Monica said.
Bill sat up, letting his sleeping bag sag down to his waist. “No, although we have generators somewhere in this disaster. However, I present for your approval two important items: a Coleman stove”—he pointed to a pallet—“and a camping-style coffeemaker. No need to use a backhoe for a spade-sized task.”
Monica’s eyes grew rounder. “I knew there was a reason I decided not to kill you!” She hugged him, making Bill’s IQ drop by half, and went over to dig out the stove and coffeemaker.
It took only a few minutes to move the required equipment from the shed to the area out front that they’d fenced off the previous day. Bill brought out a couple of folding tables, and they proceeded to brew that all-important first cup.
Bill always took his time savoring the first cup of coffee. Unlike some who just needed to get the caffeine in as quickly as possible, Bill wanted to really experience that initial rush. He turned to Monica, who was already pouring her second cup. “Y’know, we can probably get you a bag and a needle, set up a drip. Might save time.”
&n
bsp; Monica glared at him over the rim of her mug as she drained half the cup. Finally she came up for air. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it. But speaking of coffee, we’re going to have a large number of caffeine-challenged students here in a couple of hours. Should we be worried?”
“I guess we’re going to have to rig up the generator anyway at some point. Might as well be sooner. One more coffee first, okay?”
Monica smiled and raised her cup in salute.
48. Cattle Drive
Dick looked the situation over.
“Looks like we lost two—a cow and calf. They must have panicked and run off. I’m pretty sure we didn’t let anything get close enough to take them down.”
Matt did a quick count. They still had sixteen head of cattle, including four calves. There were also a dozen sheep. The horses had been tied up in their own group. All of this menagerie had been gathered into as small an area as possible.
The aggies had collected whatever they could that would burn and brought it across, but they only had fuel enough to keep one fire going all night. To keep the predators at bay, they had erected construction spotlights on telescoping stands that ran off the biggest generator. Outland night life didn’t like blindingly bright halogen lights, so harassment had been minimal.
Dick continued his report. “The pigs are long gone by now. We can only hope they’re still in one piece. They’ll probably stay in the general area, so if and when we’re ready to, we can come and get them.”
“Greased-pig roundup! Woot!” one of the other students yelled, waving his fist in the air. A couple of others laughed.
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