Thinking fast, Mindy assisted CJ, once his belt released she swam out of the broken windshield. It didn’t take much to get out of the car and it took only for her to stand and she emerged from the water.
Their upside-down car was one of many in a sea of water no deeper than four feet.
Making her way around to the side of the car, she heaved in a deep breath, went under and pulled on the rear passenger door.
It opened only a third of the way, but enough for Marty to push out Rose.
Mindy took hold of the petite woman, guiding her up and out of the water.
Using her body, she braced the woman against the car to keep her head upward.
“Rose,” she called her. “Rose. Rose.”
Rose’s head bled a little near the eye.
Mindy shook her, pushing against her stomach with her own body because it was the only option she had to try to get any water out of her.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted Marty as he stood. “Rose!” he called out.
It was as if his voice was what Rose needed to hear, a split second after he yelled for her, she choked, coughed and spat water.
“I got her,” Marty said. “I got her.”
Once Mindy was certain he did, she moved from his way and looked around. She breathed heavily, trying to slow her heart rate as she scanned around for CJ.
She spotted him in the distance, sludging through the water, aimlessly and confused.
“CJ!” she yelled to him.
He stopped walking and turned around. Mindy could see the expression on his face. He was relieved and smiled, then rushed her way.
“Are you okay?” he asked when he saw her. “Hurt?”
“I don’t think so. I’m cold. You?”
“Shivering, and I’ll be happy if I never see the ocean again.”
“Yeah, twice in a couple days is too much for me, too.”
CJ faced Marty. “You guys alright?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Marty nodded. “Rose is weak. We need to get her out of the water.”
“Then let’s try,” CJ said.
Try? How was that even possible, Mindy thought? They’d have to carry her, blindly trudging through the flooded area, with dangers they couldn’t see under their feet. They’d have to figure out which way was west. Not easy with the darkening clouded sky. As hard as it sounded, they had no choice. It seemed impossible. It wasn’t like the first time they found themselves in water. This water didn’t funnel its way into a narrower path. There was no dry land to aim for, just three or four feet of water filled with cars and debris. It encircled them, it was everywhere, and seemingly no end in sight.
TWENTY
Cheyenne Mountain
In science fiction movies and books, there always seemed to be a never failing system. Satellite images were conveniently on hand. The president or his staff, if they survived, knew everything. They were on top of the information food chain.
It wasn’t that way in reality.
All Parker had was a miracle radio transmission from a man named Lowell, claiming he could see the Caldera ready to blow from his back deck. That was it, of all the destruction, that was the only true information he had other than what he had witnessed first-hand. Which really wasn’t much compared to everyone else.
Lowell was a loner, the last remaining person on Mammoth Mountain. Parker had ordered someone to talk to him constantly, keeping the man company.
By the sound of his voice, parker envisioned a man in his sixties, rough and tumbling that had an accident perhaps that left him in a wheelchair.
Probably a two pack a day smoker with a bottle of whiskey never far from his reach. Whether that was true or not, Parker didn’t know.
It helped with the visual as he listened to the man’s voice coming through the speaker.
“What about us trying to get you out of there,” Parker said.
“Nah, that’s a negative,” Lowell replied. “I’m not going anywhere. Besides, the ash is pretty steady, the rumbling is continuous. Nothing I can’t deal with it. She’ll blow soon, I feel it, and I can even smell it.”
“I’m sorry you’re alone.”
“Hey, I’m not. I’m talking to the president. I’m gonna leave this earth a pretty important and remembered guy.”
“Yes, you will. And we will be here until … until …”
“Transmission stops?” Lowell asked.
“Yes,” Parker said. “Yes. Until it stops.”
He was getting ready to ask Lowell a little about himself, maybe get him to share a story, when he noticed Charles signaling him.
“Hey, buddy,” Parker said. “Have to step out. I’ll be back.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Parker pursed his lips. It was a sad thing to know that he was talking to a man who was facing his end.
He stood from the chair and followed Charles to the other side of the communications room. A soldier took the seat where Parker had been and conversed with Lowell.
“What’s going on?” Parker asked.
“I have some really good news.”
“Everything is done? No more disasters?”
“Not that good.”
“What is it?”
“The Russians are still up and running. They said they have been trying to reach out to everyone since the impacts began.”
“This is great news. They kept some of their military communications …”
“All.”
“Excuse me?”
“Ever play darts with someone really drunk? They hit everything but the dartboard,” Charles said. “Russia is the dart board.”
“What is it with these damn analogies?” Parker snapped. “And that’s impossible.”
“Yeah, it is. They are not hit. They didn’t sustain any impact. Their science community is putting together reports for us. Rather, everyone they can reach. They reconnected to one of the satellites and are trying to get images.”
Parker stared.
“What’s wrong? This is great news. We’re going to know what’s going on. Right now we are in the dark.”
“I know. I know. It’s great news. But Russia was completely spared?”
“Completely. God willing, they may not be the only ones,” Charles said.
“Hopefully, we’ll know soon.” Parker nodded. “Thank you. I’m going to go back and talk to Lowell.”
“Are you going to share the good news?”
“You mean tell a man who believes he self sacrificed, stayed behind to be the eyes of the world one last time. Tell him that he didn’t need to stay back, Russia has it covered?” Parker shook his head. “No. I don’t think so.”
When Lowell was sixteen years old, he saw an old television show about a crappy motel and a vibrating bed. He never knew those things existed and thought they were a product of a writer’s imagination. But the ground beneath him moved at such a steady pace, he thought back to that television show.
He was nauseous. Aside from the constant vibration, the ground rippled in waves as if he were on some sort of amusement park ride.
He felt it overwhelmingly because Lowell was on the ground in the backyard, not far from where his deck collapsed.
His deck was only a couple feet from the ground, more of a wooden patio, so when he and the radio tumbled out, neither of them sustained much damage.
He didn’t know how the radio still worked, but it did.
He lost his wheelchair, and without the ability to walk, Lowell lay on the ground, arm aiding to prop him up on his side, watching the sky as it filled with dark gray smoke and ash. He had been on the ground for hours.
The fine granules of the pre eruption state covered him and the ground. He tried hard to keep from breathing it in, but it was difficult. He coughed and choked.
“Yeah,” he said into the radio. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.” he released the button in the radio.
“Are you scared? Are you worried?” the voice on the other
end asked. “I wish here was something we could do.”
The last thing Lowell wanted was for someone to think of him as pathetic and weak, so he didn’t tell them on the radio that he was laying in the grass with not so much as a glass of water to wet his lips or to coat his dry throat.
“Hey, Lowell, I’m back,” the voice switched to that of the president. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Just sipping on a beer, watching the sky.”
“It has to be a sight.”
“It is. Can I ask you something?” Lowell questioned.
“Yes, you can.”
“What happens now? I mean, after the ground stops shaking, heaven quits throwing stuff from the sky, after everything blows and the dust settles. What happens?”
“We’re working on that.”
“Considering I won’t be around. Can you let me know what the plan is?”
“We don’t have a concrete plan,” Parker said. “We don’t know anything. We’re trying to get Intel now.”
“A lot of people are dead.”
“A lot of people are dead,” Parker repeated. “The goal is to take those who remain and somehow, get them to an area, where it will be habitable. We’re trying to contact areas of FEMA. They have surplus. We get them to move it to those areas. Hopefully soon we’ll know what areas they are. Hopefully we can get those supplies.”
“It’s good to know you have a plan. Keep in mind something Mr. President, the human race is a faulted but resilient species. I believe, when this thing is done, we will rise from the ashes.”
Upon his word, finger still depressing the microphone button while he thought of something else to say, Lowell had another thought. He knew instantly, he would not be one of those people who rise from the ashes.
Than it happened. It erupted, even at a distance from him, the sound of the explosion was not something he was ready for or expecting to hear. It sounded so loud, it caused a painful ring in his ear that wasn’t going to go away.
His last few seconds would be spent without hearing the roar of devastation he knew the eruption made.
The eruption was three sequential booms that shot earth and fire upward high in the sky. Moments later, that fire transformed into a swirling black cloud that took over the entire horizon. Inside it tiny bits of debris flew about, mixed with flames and sparks.
Lowell tried his best to sit up a little more, not wanting to face his death laying down.
The pyroclastic cloud raced with lightning speed.
He watched it until the wind and heat from it, instinctively caused him to close his eyes.
In seconds, it was over.
There was silence in the control room, complete and utter, stunned silence.
They heard something that sounded like a blip of an explosion, then a rush of static and finally nothing.
Parker lowered his head, then tried one more time. “Lowell. Lowell come in. Lowell.”
Nothing.
Parker knew. Everyone knew without saying it ... he was gone.
Lowell’s final words were about mankind rising from the ashes. Parker was going to do everything in his power to make sure those last words came true.
TWENTY-ONE
It was worse than trying to make it back to shore. Days as a kid at the beach, when CJ would wander too far out in the ocean. Getting that wave from his father, yelling, “Come back in. Watch out for the rip!”
The water wasn’t deep enough to swim, so CJ would do the ocean walk. A marching walk, legs lifting and battling the heavy water as a current hit against the back of his knees, slightly knocking him from his balance.
Only this time there were no soft squishy surfaces, with only sand and seaweed, with the occasional creature to avoid; this time the terrain was rough.
CJ tried to move through the water that came just above his knee.
He felt like he was losing footing every once in a while as he stumbled over cars, pieces of buildings, concrete and bodies that had yet to rise to the surface. That combined with the fact the water felt as if it were moving, pulsing, like waves, making it hard to go forward.
How was that even possible?
It wasn’t an easy journey at all. He supposed the water was a bit deeper. He couldn’t recall the last time his feet actually touched the ground instead of rubble. Fortunately, CJ and the others were not the only ones to rise from the water and survive the wave. As they moved, others stood as they saw them moving about. Which was a good thing. Because they had Rose. Rose was unable to walk and CJ, along with the kindness of strangers, carried her. They took turns. Handling the fragile woman who toggled between consciousness and sleep.
They were headed in the right direction. They saw a sign, seven more miles to go. It felt like it was a hundred.
Someone asked CJ, “Where are we headed?”
“I don’t know where you are headed, but I’m planning on finding my father. He’s at the airport.”
It seemed as if they just followed him, like he was Moses. Perhaps because he was focused and determined.
Mindy didn’t look well. Her face was pale, had he only known her as a popstar he would’ve figured it was just her stamina giving away. But she had a rough life as a child. The walking and struggling, she knew well. He hoped she wasn’t sick or injured.
“I’ll take her now.” A stranger approached and extended his arms to take Rose from CJ.
“Thank you,” CJ replied.
He handed her over gently, and Rose muttered out a soft, “Thank you so much.” Before she closed her eyes and rested her head against the stranger.
“Okay,” Mindy stepped toward CJ. “You all right? You look kind of pale.”
“Me?” CJ chuckled in a tired wave. “You’re not looking so hot yourself.”
“No, I’m fine. My belly is sore. I bumped it and probably bruised muscle when I was trying to squeeze out that window or something.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep. I’m fine. Now, what about you?”
“I could sure use some of that ibuprofen. I know I will be sore in a little bit.”
“We are averaging about a mile an hour.” Mindy looked up to the sky. “We will be there by nightfall, maybe shortly after. I’m positive we will find ibuprofen there.”
“I’m positive you’ll find everything there.”
“I plan on it,” Mindy said.
CJ lowered his voice. “Do you think … do you think Rose will make it?”
“I think, and ...,” Mindy said and looked back at the stranger holding Rose and then at Marty. Marty went from person to person, whoever carried his wife he was nearby, wiping her head whispering words of encouragement and love. “I think,” Mindy continued. “That question doesn’t need to be answered because it doesn’t matter. One way or another, we need to make sure that Rose and Marty both get to the airport.”
<><><><>
The ticket counter area of the terminal offered cushion bench seats. The ones where travelers sat to put their shoes back on after TSA.
The airport was a plethora of supplies, from food to blankets, even clothes from belongings just left behind. Ruben made his way to a luxury terminal in the next building, he was able to find a little bit more food than what they had on the snack cart.
He grabbed blankets because the temperature was dropping. And before they spoiled, Ruben grabbed some of the deli sandwiches that were in the display cooler of the Grab and Go kiosk.
When he returned back to the main entrance from his brief but productive search, he spotted the orange glow of the campfire Guy had built in the driveway area before the doors.
It was nighttime, and the fire gave light to the ticket counter area.
“Have a sandwich,” Ruben extended one to Guy.
“Thank you.” Guy took it.
“Nice fire.”
“Thank you. Where’s Carter? Didn’t he go with you?”
“No. he was …” Ruben turned around. “He was there. Where did he go?�
�
“He couldn’t have gone far.” Guy stepped inside the terminal. “Carter!” he hollered. “Carter!’
“Here, Pap.” At first his voice was distant, then after the pitter patter of feet, he appeared out of the darkness, as if out of nowhere then into the light. “Here.”
“Stay where I can see you.”
“Okay.” He opened a candy bar.
“Where did you get that?” Guy asked. “You didn’t go to the gates did you?’
“No.” Carter shook his head. “Her.” He pointed backwards.
“Her?” Ruben asked.
Like Carter, a woman stepped from the shadows. Her face was dirty, which hid her age. She was at least forty, her voice had a maturity to it when she spoke. “I didn’t think you’d mind if he had candy,” she said.
“Who are you?” Guy asked.
“Abby.” She extended her hand.
“How long have you been here?” Ruben questioned.
“How long have you been here?” she replied, “That’s about how long I have been here.”
Between chomps of his chocolate bar, Carter said. “She was on the bus with us. I remember.”
“You were on the bus?” Guy asked. “Why did you get off?’
“Because you did,” she replied.
“Do we know you?” Guy asked.
She shook her head. “No. See when you rushed off the bus with Carter, then he …” She pointed to Ruben. “Rushed off, I was thinking you had some weird Final Destination moment where you saw something horrible happening. Not like things have been a bed of roses. I just couldn’t handle any more.”
“Why didn’t you show yourself earlier?” Guy questioned. “You didn’t need to hide.”
“I felt bad when I realized the reason you got off was to wait for your son. I mean, I didn’t think you were going to live here, I just figured at the very least you had another idea on where to go. I heard you talking on the bus about living in the east.”
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