Faulted

by Jacqueline Druga

  “The world is a treasure chest, you just need to know where to dig.”

  “And how does a rich pop star know this?” he asked.

  “Rich, aging popstar,” she smiled. “The average age of my fan base is in their late thirties. I know how to find the treasures because when I was little my mother and I were homeless.”

  “I never knew that. Not that I know much about you.”

  “We didn’t let that information out. My mother was a very proud woman. She never wanted people to know. But … I learned a lot.”

  “Yeah, obviously.”

  “One thing I did learn was this right here, where we are, isn’t going to work for rest. We need to find shelter.”

  CJ huffed out a laugh in ridicule. “Where? Everything was flattened.”

  “Right here it was flattened, but if we walk we can find somewhere where it wasn’t.”

  “If we walk … we won’t be able to finish what we start.”

  “You mean searching the bodies?”

  CJ nodded.

  “Do you really think they’re gone? That they’re … well … passed away?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If you don’t know, CJ, why are you focusing on the negative? Searching the bodies is confirming they are dead. I would rather try to find them alive.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “Not sitting in a sea of death. I am positive there has to be sets ups or camps, there has to be. There are plans in order for disasters like this. We need to find them, they won’t find us.” She reached into a bag. “I have this handy dandy roadside assistance flashlight and red rescue light all in one. Let’s start walking.”

  “Where did you get …” CJ waved out his hand. “Never mind, you found it. Right?”

  “I did. It will be enough light for us to walk. And the sky …” She peered up. “Is clearing so that will also help light the way.”

  “What are we looking for?”

  “Life. People. We’ll ask. But life and people are not here.”

  “You’re right. We can’t just sit here until we can see.” He stood.

  “Then let’s go.” She pulled out her phone.

  “Still searching for a signal?”

  “No. I have a little battery power left. I’m using the compass. We need to head northeast, toward LA. Maybe we will find camps along the way.”

  “Thanks for coming with me.” As soon as he said that the ground rumbled for a few seconds. CJ paused, closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll never get used to this.”

  “I don’t think anyone does.”

  “Feels like the world is falling apart. But … I know that isn’t what’s happening, right?”

  “It would take an awful big event to make the world fall apart.”

  “And an earthquake isn’t …” CJ stopped. Suddenly he felt the pressure in his ears. It went from that to a buzzing sound, and the air around him seemed to ripple. “Shit.”

  “What the heck?” Mindy placed her palm flat to her ear.

  “It’s happening again.”

  And as he suspected, as soon as those words slipped from his mouth, the recognizable boom rang out. Only again, like on the highway, CJ lifted his head to the sky. Remnants of what looked like a donut shaped fireball marked the sky and changed to smoke as a blue and orange streak of light sailed across the sky.

  “I’d say we should run,” she looked at CJ. “But there’s nowhere … to run to.”

  In a shocked whisper, CJ replied. “Brace for impact.”

  TWELVE

  Ruben saw three. They were undeniable and streaked across the sky seconds after they entered into earth’s atmosphere with a loud explosion. Scientifically it didn’t make sense, usually the sound occurred when an object crossed the barrier of sound. But meteorites traveled faster than the speed of sound at seven hundred and sixty-seven miles per miles.

  Perhaps it was nothing more than nature’s warning. But they moved fast and Ruben could only guess they were three of many. Many that had come and many more to arrive.

  There was no official report to confirm that.

  It was him logically putting things together.

  CJ told Roger he swore he saw something in the sky, and that was after the first quake. Then shortly after came the wave … was it an ocean hit or an earthquake somewhere else?

  Joel was the man with the handheld radio. He kept winding it up to keep the power. A self-proclaimed prepper, Ruben wondered what he was doing in Los Angeles. Usually those prepper types lived far from the city. Was he traveling?

  “First vacation I had in twelve years,” Joel told him. “I live in the hills. I was on my way to LAX when I got a text from a friend. I tried to find it on the news on the radio, but nothing. Sure enough everything east of Oklahoma shut off from the world.”

  That was his response when Ruben questioned him on how he knew what was going on.

  Now the transistor type radio was picking up broken news casts and snippets of radio broadcast from amateurs

  When he first met Joel in the canteen line, Joel told him the earth was being pelted by a series of meteorites and asteroids, all raining down, and they expected it to continue for twenty-four hours. Last he heard the east was hit pretty bad, too.

  It wasn’t going to end there.

  Perhaps it was him not wanting to believe it that caused Ruben to walk away and label the man a little insane, but once Guy fell asleep next to his grandson, Ruben left to find Roger and came across Joel again.

  Joel was an instant celebrity in the camp. Seated just outside the school’s large tool shed, which was now being used as the main canteen, he was encircled by a group of people around a fire, Joel told how it was ironic that he had prepared for every disaster, even had a stockpile at his house and in his car. Not only was he not at home when the big one hit, his car was crushed and then washed away. There he was, without anything. But he was going to make it home, of that he was certain.

  He answered questions on what people could do, gave his theories on what was happening.

  “If hundreds of those things fly from the sky,” Joel said. “It’s like being hit with hundreds of bombs a thousand times stronger than Hiroshima. To make matters worse, who knows what chain of events they could unleash, if they haven’t already.”

  Ruben wasn’t prepared to buy into Joel, the apocalypse prophet, so he made his way over to Roger.

  “You listening to this?” Ruben asked.

  “It’s interesting. What else is there to do?” Roger replied.

  Then it happened.

  The weird sensation felt in the air and the loud ‘boom’. Ruben glanced to the sky. They sailed across like jets in a fighter formation. It was hard to tell which was larger, because one of the three could have been lower.

  He just knew it wasn’t going to be long before he felt the impact of at least one of them.

  Ruben was right.

  It was as if the ground exploded. It shook violently, immediately cracking the concrete, lifting it high and ejecting people upwards.

  It didn’t stop.

  It wasn’t just a quake, it was rocking up, down, left and right, so loud it drowned out the screaming. Then came the winds.

  It could have been a nuclear warhead for all they knew because it seemed to follow the same effect.

  Ruben heard them coming, a deep roar and had it not been night, he probably wouldn’t have seen them. He merely caught a glimpse, a second before it felt as if he were blasted by a wall. Ruben and the others were already at a disadvantage. Their footing was unstable as they tried to remain upright from the quake. When the blast wind arrived it knocked into Ruben, sending him sailing through the air.

  There was no fighting it, no stopping it, Ruben just prayed.

  Guy was asleep when the earth shook so hard it knocked him from his chair and bounced him twice from the ground, upward like a rubber ball. Immediately, as soon as he could stand he dove for Carter. He yanked out the IV,
lifted the boy, held him close to his chest and focused on protecting him and getting him out.

  But to go where?

  Patients in the medical tent rolled to the floor, their cots falling on them. The sturdy tent waved and rippled as nature created an obstacle course for Guy to cross. Fallen injured, cots tumbling. Guy did his best to make his way through, but it wasn’t enough.

  There was nothing sturdy to hide under, no doorframe to take cover.

  He was certain this wasn’t any ordinary disaster, or the recent tremor after tremor following the quakes weren’t aftershocks.

  Then again, Guy didn’t know much about earthquakes at all. It was all pure guessing.

  He barely made it halfway across the medical tent when he heard the deep rumbling of destruction. Focusing forward, Guy never saw the back end of the tent whip out from the posts that held it down.

  Like the gathering of a table cloth with all contents on it, the tent whirled around, grabbing everything into it, lifting them from the ground and carried them so fast, Guy felt as if he were on some sort of ride. He didn’t tumble, he was part of everything else, just moving them wherever the wind decided.

  Closing his eyes, he held tight to Carter bracing for the inevitable landing. One he feared would shake the child from his hold.

  It wasn’t as brutal as he thought, the bunched tent landed on the ground and moved across the surface with fast momentum until it slowed down and finally stopped.

  Safe. He was safe, and they weren’t even hurt.

  He actually laughed in gratitude, hugging Carter. Although they were twisted in the tent, they had made it. They just had to get out.

  The ground shook again, just a tremor, but it was enough to tell him that not everyone had survived the whirlwind.

  There were no cries and no screams, just a few distant moans and sobs.

  The fabric of the tent was just above his head and Guy attempted to stand. He stumbled some and looked around, trying to find a way out of the tangled mess.

  He pushed against the fabric trying to find the end.

  Not only was Carter heavy, but the tent was heavy against him as well. The weight and darkness made moving difficult.

  As if a guiding light of salvation beckoned an orange hue took over the tent, and it enabled Guy to spot the small plastic window of the tent. It was ten feet from him. He’d make it, he was sure. He trudged over toward that small opening, he needed to rip the plastic window open if he wanted to get out from the canvas.

  Nearly there, Guy searched the items he stepped over. He needed something to break through the plastic if it didn’t have an opening or zipper. Then his foot caught it. It was a lamp. Not a normal lamp, but a bendable metal floor lamp, one of several that had been positions between the cots. Guy reached down and grabbed it as he arrived at the plastic squared window.

  “I have to put you down,” he told Carter.

  Carter nodded.

  “Hang on to Pap’s leg.”

  “Okay.”

  Guy examined the plastic window, looking and feeling for a seal or opening. A zipper even. Nothing.

  He grabbed the lamp, the lightbulb was broken and he tried to use that to cut the plastic. The problem was there wasn’t much room for momentum. The tent rested against his head and the window was at his chest level.

  It wasn’t working.

  He turned the lamp upside down.

  “Pap.”

  “One second.” Guy unscrewed the base, exposing the open pipe like the end of the lamp. Using that end he pushed it against the plastic,

  “Pap!” Carter cried out.

  Then he coughed.

  It was at that moment Guy realized he himself had been coughing, he had just been too focused to even pay attention.

  He peered over his shoulder and his eyes widened in fear. The entire back end of the tent was engulfed in flames.

  He had seconds, if that, before escape wouldn’t be possible.

  “Cover your mouth,” he told Carter as he pulled him near him. Guy pushed with everything he had against the plastic window. It wouldn’t poke through.

  “Come on!” He urged and pleaded as he gave it all he had.

  The heat in the tent increased, and not only was it deadly, it worked in his favor. The end of the lamp poked through the softening plastic.

  Guy yanked out the pole, then using all of his strength he placed his fingers in the hole and using both hands, pulled back and ripped.

  “Pap!” Carter screamed.

  Guy whisked him upward and feet first, shoved Carter through the opening.

  The heavy tent lessened in weight as most of it disappeared, engulfed in flames.

  Guy could barely breathe. The smoke was all encompassing and debilitating. He coughed and choked, but he didn’t look back. He knew it was close. The opening widened as the rest of the plastic peeled away and Guy protruded through the window head first.

  He gasped in the fresh air and saw Carter standing there.

  The little boy held out his hand and Guy, twisting and turning to get through, freed himself just as the flames arrived.

  He charged forth, grabbed on to Carter and backed away. After lifting him into his arms again, he cradled him close covering his eyes and ears, protecting him not only from the sight of the fire, but the screams of agony that came from the tent as the remaining survivors in there were burned alive.

  THIRTEEN

  ‘I’m not surviving this. I’m not surviving this,’ CJ thought the second he felt the ground erupt. “I’ve been thrown around, almost drowned and my head cracked … this is it. This is the end.’

  His saving grace was there were no standing structures. Nothing to fall on him. His threat was the buckling earth that lifted up at least ten feet in some areas. He smacked against a wall of earth before tumbling down and laying in a semi-conscious state until it was all over with.

  Eventually the ground stopped shaking and whatever kind of blast wind that hit him, ceased.

  He was laying on his side and he rolled over, then knelt. He felt his chest and head, searching for injuries. He didn’t feel anything, but adrenaline could have masked the pain.

  He was fine. He was alive. He stared down to his hand and was able to see himself.

  How long had he been out? Long enough for the sun to rise? The area was lit with a beautiful pre-sunrise lighting.

  As he basked in his gratefulness, it hit him.

  Mindy.

  He took a deep breath and shouted. “Mindy!”

  His voice didn’t echo, it was muffled by the wall of dirt behind him.

  “Mindy!”

  “CJ.”

  He heard her and he stood. “Mindy.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Everything looks the same. There’s some sort of wall.” He moved. “The ground lifted.”

  “I see that.”

  “Keep talking. I think I see you.”

  CJ looked left to right. “I’m talking. I’m talking. I’m can’t see you.” What he did see was the cracked ground, lifted and split.

  “No … that’s not you. It’s a body.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Swell. Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Start singing. I’ll come to you.”

  “CJ, I really don’t feel like singing.”

  “Just sing.”

  “Fine.”

  Mindy did.

  It was that point he realized that maybe all those rumors about her being ‘auto tuned; were true. The singing was horrendous and out of tune. But it could have been tiredness or their situation.

  Finally he saw her, she stood about thirty feet from him. Had the sky not started to lighten he probably wouldn’t have seen her at all.

  He raced her way and like old friends, they embraced.

  “You’re alright.” He grabbed hold of her arms looking at her.

  “Yes, you?”

  “I’m fine. I don’t know how.”

  “I have never felt t
hat. I have felt earthquakes before. That had to be the strongest quake. But that wind …”

  “It was a meteor or asteroid. That was the blast wave. Like a bomb. I saw it. In the sky.”

  “Like the one with the dinosaurs?”

  “God, I hope not. That one set the planet on fire.”

  “Do you think it was another meteor that started this?”

  “I do. I saw one earlier and no one believed me. We need to keep moving. I don’t know how safe it is here.”

  Mindy nodded and reached down for her bag.

  “Wait. You still have your bag.”

  “I had it strapped to me, but took it off because I got scratched.” She lifted her shirt. The gash was deep and bleeding.

  “Holy shit. Give me the bag.” He took it and opened it, reaching inside and feeling around. Once he felt something cloth like, he pulled it out. It was a sweater. “Hold this against your stomach. We have to get you help.”

  “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “I’m sure it will. That’s bad.” He shouldered the bag for her.

  “It’s just a scratch. Really. Your head wound is worse.”

  “Not really.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Can we not compare injuries?” He took hold of her arm. “Let’s just keep moving.”

  “I’m glad we are walking together.”

  “You realize I am the worst person you can be with right?” CJ asked.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I have absolutely no survival skills whatsoever.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  The walked, moving slowly as they cautiously stepped over rocks and other debris.

  “How long were you looking for me?” CJ asked.

  “Not long. A second. Why?’

  “So you were knocked out, too?”

  “No. Not at all. Everything stopped and I stood. Then I heard you call.”

  “We had to be knocked out. The sun is up and it was night …” his words slowed down and he stopped walking.

  “What?”

  CJ, fearfully looked over his shoulder. “Oh my God.”

  “What’s wrong? Did …” Mindy gasped in shock.

  CJ couldn’t move and he couldn’t look away.