RUNAWAY MOON

by Howard Brian Edgar

  Deuce only knew about the Holocene extinction because Meg had talked about it in one of her Emerald Bay ‘classes.’ That was just before the violent weather forced the community to suspend school indefinitely.

  Deuce wonders why so very few people outside the scientific community ever mentioned anything about extinction. He was more amazed by those who argued that the scientists were wrong and that no such extinction was occurring, despite overwhelming photographic and scientific evidence to the contrary. His mom was right. Ignorance is bliss.

  In simple mathematical terms, Earth had been losing one or two species to extinction each year until humanity came along. After Homo sapiens industrialized, the extinction level increased to hundreds, then thousands of species each year. So what had changed? Were tigers and elephants and polar bears suddenly committing suicide in record numbers? Were the forests felling themselves? Was marine life schooling into vast ocean dead zones because it hated breathing? Were evil scientists fabricating mountains of research?

  Deuce considers The Crash a cosmic payback, a comeuppance for our species’ collective insensitivity, stupidity, wastefulness and brutality. Maybe we had it coming; this forced march back to the Stone Age and almost total annihilation. Maybe we finally got what we deserved.

  Alex emerges from the cave and sits cross-legged next to Deuce. Judging by the look on his face, he has something important to say.

  “So? How are you holding up?”

  Not exactly what Deuce expected. “I’m okay, why?”

  “I know you’re freaked out about the sea level and I know you’re not sleeping. That’s not how you get through this. You’ve got to look at the positives. We faced the most devastating series of events in human history and survived here. We did it without a formal government or a monetary system. Our children are all well fed and loved. There’s no poverty. Just a cool cooperative society where we share what we have and we have what we need. It’s good, Deuce. You just have to recognize it.”

  “True, but it won’t stop my nightmares or the visions that just pop into my head out of nowhere every day, like a ginormous wall of water crashing over these mountains drenching me, leaving me no land left to stand on.”

  “That’s just your imagination kicking your butt. No one else is having nightmares or visions. If you really want to survive whatever happens, you need to be vigilant. Vigilance requires that you get more sleep.” Alex pats Deuce’s shoulder paternally and disappears back into the cave.

  Of course Deuce knows that he and his family are only alive by some lucky miracle. Still, compared to his old way of life, this one feels like being stuck in some crazy, unpredictable Stone Age 3D role-playing game where his avatar has to survive one disaster after another. Only the disasters keep getting bigger and scarier, and the avatar is Deuce.

  As Deuce sits there in the darkness, Samson snoring lightly at his feet, he feels a sudden change in the air around him. What begins as a mild breeze quickly turns into a brisk cold wind, an unexpected temperature drop. It falls thirty degrees in about two minutes. Deuce is shivering, contemplating his next move, when Samson awakens with a cold start, jumps to his feet, disappears inside the cave.

  The sudden cold is just as Sam Hayden predicted weeks ago. Sam told them how losing the moon would lead to faster, more dramatic weather changes worldwide. Now, with the sudden cold blustery wind beating against his face, Deuce decides his next move. He retires to the relative warmth of the cave, lies down next to Samson. We might even get a sudden blast of cold Arctic air were Sam’s exact words.

  May 15

  Just as they planned, Deuce and Mateo meet up with Donnie and Eric near Rachel’s place on the beach just after Dawn. It’s supposed to be Mateo’s first trip to Sugar Pine Point to see the encroaching Pacific Ocean. He has his family’s blessing. They expect a full report when he returns so they can make their final decision, whether to stay at Emerald Bay, head inland or climb one of the nearby high-elevation mountains.

  “I’m doing this for my mom and Aunt Isabella,” says Mateo bravely. “They are afraid. They want to get as far away from the ocean as possible.”

  “Well, let’s go then. What are we waiting for?” Deuce eyes Eric.

  “I was hoping to talk to Rachel,” stammers Eric. “Uh… about the rafts.”

  Deuce suspects it has nothing whatsoever to do with the rafts. Like Ankur, Eric has been crushing on Rachel since his first yoga lesson.

  “Hot for teacher,” teases Donnie invoking an old Van Halen hit.

  “So what if I am? It’s a free country.”

  “Yeah, and we’re not exactly overpopulated with girls our age,” says Donnie.

  “So, who needs girls?”

  “Apparently, Eric does.” Donnie stares at Eric. “She’s got to be at least thirty, dude.”

  “She’s also way cool and smoking hot. Have you seen her ‘downward facing dog’?” Eric grins to himself.

  “Has she seen your ‘standing wood’?” asks Donnie without missing a beat. This elicits guffaws from Deuce and Mateo.

  “Hilarious, Donnie! That’s not even a yoga position.”

  “It is when you’re in her class,” counters Donnie.

  Deuce and Mateo crack up. Donnie is on a roll.

  “I don’t get it,” says Mateo. “How is someone cool and hot at the same time?”

  “Who cares? Can we just get going?” Deuce is impatient to get to Sugar Pine Point. He turns and walks up the beach at a brisk pace while the others follow. Mateo, much shorter than the other three boys, has to quicken his pace to keep up. He taps Deuce’s shoulder.

  “Dude, can you slow down? My legs aren’t as long as yours.”

  “The sooner we get there, the sooner we’ll know.” Unlike the others, Deuce is practically dying to know.

  With Deuce leading the way, they cover the four miles to Sugar Pine Point in record time, then hike straight up to the lookout point. Deuce’s anxiety mounts as he crests the summit, crosses to the rocky ledge and peers out over the landscape. Eric, Donnie and Mateo catch up and stand alongside him, staring out at the new view with their mouths hanging open.

  “Say hello to the Pacific Ocean, Mateo,” says Eric.

  “Oh, my God!”

  They look on in horror as Donnie checks the surveying device.

  “Dude, it’s only five miles away,” proclaims Donnie. “Still rising.”

  Deuce fights the sudden wave of nausea that swells spontaneously from the pit of his stomach. Alarms sound through his brain as he clenches his eyes tightly. If he throws up again, Eric and Donnie will know that he’s afraid of the ocean. He’ll never hear the end of it.

  “How far was it last time you checked?” Mateo asks.

  “About eight miles,” says Eric.

  “This is very bad news.” Mateo shakes his head.

  “You think?” snaps Deuce, turning his back on the ocean.

  “If my family goes, I must go, too.”

  “Too bad, dude. You’ll miss all the fun,” says Eric.

  “What fun?” Mateo is as intrigued as any fourteen-year-old with the prospect of having fun with his friends.

  “Yeah, what fun?” Deuce frowns. Nothing about this is fun.

  “The fun we’re going to have up at Monument Peak. Hunting, playing, fishing, building… you know, guy stuff.” Unlike Deuce, Eric sees their dire circumstances not as some relentless, creeping horror show but as a grand adventure full of exciting, new and dangerous possibilities.

  “I need to stay with my family,” says Mateo. “I’ve lost enough relatives.”

  The stark realization hits Deuce that he still has relatives to lose, and he wants nothing more at the moment than to return to Alex and Jessa immediately with the bad news. He turns to the others, trying not to show any emotion that might reveal his mounting fear.

  “Sorry, guys, but I have to tell my dad.” Before they can protest, Deuce takes off sprinting toward the trail. After so many trips up and down, he knows every di
p and crevice along the trail like the back of his hand. He races downhill with catlike agility, hopping deftly over the rocks and dandelion patches. The dried dirt sections provide stable footing until he reaches a short stretch about halfway down where the dirt is inexplicably darker. His lead right foot hits this darkened patch and he skids across the unexpected mushiness, loses his balance.

  “Damn!”

  Mud! How did mud get here?

  It hasn’t rained for days. Everything is bone-dry. So where did this patch of wet dirt come from? Deuce barely manages to catch himself and stop his momentum before toppling over sideways, his right foot schussing through the mud like a snowboard, landing him hard on his butt. He doesn’t remember seeing this dark patch on his way up the trail. Of course, he had more important things on his mind then, like the Pacific’s relentless advance toward Emerald Bay.

  He presses his finger gently against the mud, feels its slimy wetness then plunges it in knuckle-deep. He pulls it out, sniffing it like a chimpanzee that has just discovered unfamiliar poop. He touches the tip of his finger to the tip of his tongue and his former life comes flooding back to him in smell-o-vision. He sees his home in Dana Point, one block from the ocean with seagulls circling low through the morning mist and the all too familiar aroma and taste of the Pacific Ocean.

  Saltwater!

  His taste buds never lie. This distinct patch of dirt halfway up Sugar Pine is tainted with saltwater. How is that remotely possible with the ocean five miles away? He scoops up a golf ball-sized clump of mud, stuffs it into the pouch on his waist and sprints most of the way home. A sudden puking fit stops him cold at the mouth of Emerald Bay.

  Chapter 17

  May 18

  Ankur is busy reinforcing Rachel’s raft down by the beach when Deuce spots him, breaks into a sprint again, waving his arms frantically.

  “Ankur! It’s getting closer! It’s coming!”

  Ankur drops the twine and spins around. Deuce nearly runs into him. He grabs Deuce’s shoulders to prevent a full-on collision and steadies him.

  “How close?” Ankur can’t help noticing Deuce’s labored breathing, his cold sweat and his look of sheer white-faced terror. “How close?” he repeats as Deuce tries to catch his breath.

  “F-five miles. Tell everyone it’s coming!” Deuce pulls away from Ankur and makes a beeline up the hill toward his cave.

  When Eric, Donnie and Mateo arrive moments later, Ankur and Rachel are already rounding up the other survivors. Everyone is gathering on the beach. Meg herds Lily and Mia, awakened from their naps, still rubbing sleep from their eyes toward the raft. The Guerreros surround Mateo expectantly, hoping for good news. Sam Hayden and Julia arrive, Sam still holding his fishing pole, looking troubled, weary.

  “What’s this about?” Hannibal practically drags Satin toward the gathering.

  “The ocean is still rising,” says Ankur. “It’s only five miles from us now and I think we need to...”

  Hannibal cuts him off. “How much time do we have?”

  “Just a guess, maybe a week, maybe less,” says Ankur somberly.

  Deuce, Alex and Jessa arrive just as the group starts going their separate ways.

  “Everybody, wait,” yells Deuce, “there’s more.” He reaches into his waist pouch and pulls out the mud sample, holds it out to Ankur. “I found this halfway up Sugar Pine, a big wet stain on the trail.” He holds it up where Ankur and Sam can get a whiff, too.

  Ankur touches and tastes the sample without hesitation. The sea salt and ocean scent are unmistakable.

  “Where did you find this?” asks Ankur.

  “On the trail to Sugar Pine. I almost broke my neck on it.”

  As Ankur quickly considers the possibilities, the others close ranks. He holds the sample up where they can see it. “This mud is soaked in seawater.”

  “How is that possible?” asks Satin, “unless you boys are pranking us.”

  “I guarantee you this is not a prank,” says Deuce adamantly.

  “If the ocean is still five miles away, then how did seawater make it this far inland?” Hannibal demands.

  “The only possible explanation is that the earthquakes created an underground fissure, which allowed the seawater to seep right through Sugar Pine Mountain.”

  “Meaning what?” Hannibal presses him.

  “Meaning the pressure will continue building as the sea level rises… until Sugar Pine bursts like a broken dam and spews saltwater into the Tahoe basin, straight into the lake.”

  Speaking Spanish, Mariana Guerrero tells Matias and Diego that she and Isabella and the girls are too frightened to stay at Emerald Bay another moment. They must leave immediately and get as far away from the ocean as possible. Isabella reads Mariana’s lips, blesses herself with the sign of the cross.

  Matias turns to his son. “We have no choice, Mateo. We have to leave. You and Diego ready the raft and the rest of us will gather our supplies.” As Matias turns to leave the group, Alex stops him.

  “You sure about this?”

  “Happy wife, happy life,” says Matias.

  “Your families might be safer up in the mountains.”

  “Unfortunately, my friend, that logic holds no water with our women,” says Matias with a sly wink.

  “After all we went through together, it’s sad to see you go.” Alex extends his hand. Matias hugs him, instead.

  “Until we meet again, amigo,” says Matias. With tears in his eyes, he turns away from Alex and Jessa, ushers his entire clan, one-third of Emerald Bay’s total human population, quickly toward their caves to gather their belongings. They will cross Lake Tahoe by raft and then head as far into Nevada as possible on foot before they rest at the next freshwater lake or stream. The Guerrero women would rather be living nomads than dead settlers.

  Filled with sadness from losing his new friend and knowing that their community is splintering, Alex turns to the others. There is not a single happy face among them.

  “If anyone else wants to make a run for it, now would be a good time.”

  Julia turns to her father. “Dad?”

  It’s the moment Sam Hayden has dreaded. Lake Tahoe is suddenly in great jeopardy. His awareness of this new grave danger has given him fresh clarity. Without the security and bounty of the lake, there is no reason for him to stay. It would be suicide. He knows that he must leave with Julia. Even if they spend the rest of their lives together running from one disaster to another, he would rather have Julia and Rachel, his ‘adopted’ daughter, with her upbeat hippy spirit and Bob-the-Builder survival skills, by his side

  Julia and Rachel have become best friends. Rachel is the younger sister she always wanted, the ‘sister from a different mister’ as Julia had jokingly put it not long after they first met along the southern banks of Lake Tahoe.

  “Let’s gather our stuff then, and go,” says Sam with finality. “I’m not getting any damn younger.”

  Eric and Donnie pitch in helping Sam, Julia and Rachel drag Rachel’s raft down to the shoreline. With the raft in position at the water’s edge, they scurry back to their respective shelters to gather their belongings.

  Ankur makes a noble last-minute decision to accompany Meg, Lily and Mia, the only unprotected females left, if they’ll have him. It means not sharing Rachel’s raft with Sam and Julia. It means realizing that Rachel will never look at him the same way he looks at her.

  “Of course you can come with us,” says Meg. “We’ll be like a family.” She welcomes his help keeping the girls in line, not to mention giving them a greater sense of stability and security. Ankur enlists Deuce, Donnie and Eric to help Meg ready her raft.

  Hannibal watches the boys work amid the quiet chaos of a community on the move again, shakes his head with sadness and disappointment. The colony that he thought would be his new home forever is splintering before his eyes and there is nothing he can do. Marcus is gone. The Guerreros, who fought side-by-side with him to save Satin, have gone, too. Now the others are ra
cing against time, preparing to leave and head east or hike up into the tallest nearby mountains. As his dream evaporates, he looks toward Satin.

  “This sucks. Glad we never built that sign we talked about.”

  “Emerald Bay Colony. We could have added ‘population zero’ with a smiley face. Come on, you, let’s get the fuck out of here.” Satin grabs his arm and pulls him insistently toward their cave.

  While everyone else hastens about gathering food, water and survival supplies, Deuce, Jessa and Alex suddenly find themselves alone on the beach with Donnie and Eric. It’s the moment Deuce has dreaded. Alex places his hands gently on Deuce’s shoulders and looks into his eyes.

  “So, what’s it gonna be, boss?”

  He has a choice. Deuce tries to hide his shock as he realizes he may not have to separate from Alex and Jessa after all. For Deuce, there is only one viable option.

  “I say we go to Monument Peak. Eric and Donnie know it well,” says Deuce.

  “It’s ten thousand feet up, a smooth hike. Fresh mountain stream water and soil for planting,” says Eric.

  “Speaking of which, has anyone checked on the garden lately?” Donnie blurts out the question forgetting that Alex is probably unaware of their garden that sits untended now up on the ridge.

  Alex looks straight at Deuce. “What garden?”

  “Uh, sorry I took some of your seeds. We planted them up the ridge like weeks ago. Until today, Mateo was tending them.”

  “You should have told me, Deuce.” Alex is not happy.

  “How can you grow anything here with no sun?” asks Jessa.

  “One way to find out,” says Deuce. He breaks toward the hill leading up to the ridge with Eric, Donnie, Alex and Jessa right behind him.