WHAT IF—IN JUST A FEW HOURS, THE PARAMETERS OF CIVILIZATION WERE IRREVOCABLY SHATTERED?
WHAT IF— YOU SURVIVED . . .?
“ Thought-provoking, frightening; the best read since Stephen King introduced the plague to modern times.”
—The Texarkana Gazette
FACT: Recent scientific research suggests that our planet has shifted its axis more than once in the past. Animals quick-frozen in the Siberian tundra, and tropical forests suddenly fossilized are examples of a severe pole shift.
“Reisig leads his readers into a changed world where survivors face one adventure after another and page after page, the question in the back of your mind—could this really happen?—becomes even more intense.”
—Richard W. Noone, author of 5/5/2000
FACT: The near-perfect alignment of the planets in our solar system and the resulting extraordinary gravitational pull has occurred before, and will occur again in this century.
“Reisig has penned a page-turner that paints a graphic picture of an islander’s worst nightmare—an ecological cataclysm of global proportions—with a story line right on our doorstep.”
—The Key West Citizen
FACT: Volcanic and earthquake activity is on the increase. Recent earthquakes in Iran, China, the Caribbean, and devastating tidal waves in Indonesia are examples of the mounting tension of tectonic plates in the earth’s crust.
“ A roller-coaster adventure ride that will have you stocking up on survival gear and buying property in the mountains!”
-- The Ouachita Writers Guild
THE NEW MADRID RUN
by
MICHAEL REISIG
CLEAR CREEK PRESS
Other titles by Michael Reisig
Brothers of the Sword/Children of Time
The Hawks of Kamalon
The Old Man’s Letters
The Fledgling Author’s Handbook
Copyright©1998, Clear Creek Press/Michael Reisig
([email protected])
1st Edition, July, 1998
4th Edition March, 2005 by Clear Creek Press; Dorrie O’Brien, Arlington, Texas, editor.
Cover design by Powell Graphics
Cover design copyright©1998 Clear Creek Press
Published by Clear Creek Press
P.O. Box 1081 Mena, AR 71953
1-479-394-4992
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any other means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 0-9651240-1-0
Acknowledgments
A book may be penned by an individual, but ultimately, its birth onto the publisher’s pages is never a singular accomplishment. This novel is no exception.
There are many to whom I owe a great debt of gratitude for their support, assistance, and most of all, their belief in me.
This book is dedicated to my parents. Without their unflagging faith, this first book of an uncertain author would never have come to be.
A special thanks to my buddy, Richard, who planted the seed that gave root to a novel.
And last but not least, my love and gratitude to Bonnie Lee, who worked diligently on my initial editing, stoically endured the tribulations of a writer’s mate, and helped me keep the faith.
Thank you for believing, all of you.
“And lo, there was an earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood. . .”
—Revelation 6:12
Foreword
This planet, and ultimately its inhabitants, is moving toward the conclusion of an era, and very possibly, the end of a cycle in man’s much longer history than most suppose.
As with most potentially calamitous events, Mother Nature provides warnings, and explanations, if the societies affected are advanced enough to understand. It is entirely possible that civilizations before us who experienced monumental disasters have also left us warnings, if we are perceptive enough to decipher them.
This book is a work of fiction. The premise, however, and the concept that the planet earth could experience catastrophic geological and climatic changes early this century, is a viable possibility.
These disastrous changes could be brought about by a number of events—a comet passing too close to the earth’s gravitational field, a large solar storm, or a near-perfect alignment of the planets in our solar system.
It is theorized that any one of these occurrences could cause sufficient gravitational or magnetic disturbance to catalyze a change of the earth’s rotating axis in relation to other heavenly bodies. Such an event, combined with the enormous weight of the perpetually thickening ice mass at the South Pole, could prove to be a fatal convergence, and the tilt of the earth would no longer be able to overcome the centrifugal force of our spinning planet. At that point, the polar ice masses would be thrust across the earth’s surface toward some point near the equator, and a crustal displacement of the earth’s surface—a shift in the planet’s poles—would take place.
Comets narrowly missing, or striking, the earth and disproportionately large solar storms, are not new phenomena. They, and the concept of periodical alignments of the planets in this solar system, represent an explanation for forthcoming changes. The clearly perceptible wobble of the earth as it is affected by the polar ice mass imbalance is part of the warning. The increase of volcanic and earthquake activity worldwide, and the frequency and ferocity of violent meteorological storms throughout the globe are admonitions of a changing planet, yet we may expect more . . .
Scientists and astrologers are already predicting devastating solar storms for the new millennium. With new technology, we are more aware than ever before of our vulnerability to comets and meteorites, and there is no disagreement in scientific circles that we periodically experience significant planetary alignments. It is entirely possible that in the not too distant future, this planet may once again experience a pole shift.
Prior to, during, and after this shift, there will be widespread geological disturbances and climatic changes. The geodetic or tectonic plates that represent the earth’s crust will, themselves, shift in numerous places—particularly in those areas of severe faults. As these large rifts expand and contract, huge sections of terra firma will change shape. Some of the coastlines that border major faults may virtually disappear into the sea, and new landmasses will rise out of the ocean as tectonic plates are forced together and buckle upward. Entire mountain ranges will crumple and collapse.
This massive displacement of landmass, coupled with awesome earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, will cause tidal waves of gigantic proportions, inundating coastal regions throughout the world. Areas of the globe that had previously experienced a temperate or even tropical climate may undergo rapid weather changes approaching severe northern, perhaps even arctic, conditions. Other regions, depending on location, may experience slighter climatic changes, but all of the earth will suffer alteration to some degree.
For those who survive this cataclysm, the ensuing period of recovery will be harsh indeed. In a matter of hours, the parameters of civilization, as we know them, shall have been irrevocably altered and survival of the fittest may well become the law of the land. The survivors of this holocaust will face not only the dangers and challenges of a changed earth, but quite probably, the baser ambitions of their fellow man.
The possibility of a catastrophe of these proportions is not the product of the author’s imagination. Rather, it is a theory already expounded upon, and becoming more readily accepted by numerous scientists, geologists, and astronomers throughout the world.Furthermore, it has become the single most consistent
prediction by those in the New Age community. From Edgar Cayce and Ruth Montgomery to Michael Scallion, the forecasts of psychic community are patently similar.
In writing this book, I believe Michael Reisig has attempted to be as accurate as possible with the interpretive predictions of both the bona fide geological and psychic communities, using only a dab of artistic license in painting a portrait of a world gone mad. Yet, this is an adventure novel, meant to entertain. So read on and enjoy, but pay attention as you go—it could be a signpost to the future.
—Richard W. Noone
PART ONE
THE CHANGE AND THE GATHERING
“Behold, ye of little faith in God and nature. Witness the Change, bear testimony to the Cleansing.
“Save your woeful wailing, philandering Philistines, ye have squandered the gifts of God’s green Earth for a pocketful of coins. Now, as sure as arrogant pride goeth before a fall, and wickedness begets calamity, it is time to pay the piper for all your dirty dancin’ with Mother Nature’s daughters.”
— The Preacher
CHAPTER I
South Florida, shortly after the turn of the 21st century
The sun broke clear of the moisture-filled cumulus clouds, reflected off the windshield, and warmed the cockpit of the small twin-engine Cessna as it made its approach toward the Marathon Airport in the Florida Keys.
As he prepared for landing, Travis Christian was feeling pretty damn good about life. He stretched his large frame in the seat, ran a hand through his dark, curly hair and smiled slightly to himself. This week he had celebrated his tenth year as chief pilot and owner of Islandair Charters. He was doing what he loved and getting paid for it, and that was a hard combination to beat. It had been a long and crooked path from there to here, but he had made it.
He’d been sixteen when he received his fixed-wing license. By the time he was nineteen he had been recruited by Uncle Sam and was flying helicopters in Vietnam—landing in places you couldn’t get a Volkswagen Beetle into, then taking off with the cries of the wounded in his ears and pieces of his chopper disappearing as the enemy did their best to make his two-year stay a permanent one.
After ’Nam, he finished up his commercial pilot’s rating with the help of the GI Bill, then bummed around the States for a few years. He was licensed to fly for a living, but so were thousands of other guys who were just out of the service. Jobs that involved wings and props were scarce. He traveled from California to New Mexico, across to Texas and finally down to Florida where he fell in love—not with a woman, but with a chain of islands called the Florida Keys.
The Keys—mangrove islands surrounded by gin-clear, aquamarine waters. Tall palms stretched out over small, quiet beaches, quaint little bars, astounding sunsets, and tourist girls from all over the world. Travis had found where he wanted to be—all he needed was a way to make a living. About that time he discovered his second love in life—sailing.
He had been introduced to sailing by a friend who owned and chartered a sailboat out of Key West. The fellow needed a mate. His last employee, who drank even more than he did, had fallen off the dock and broken his leg. Travis needed a job, so he accepted the offer.
The next morning, Travis found himself headed toward the Tortugas on a 41 Morgan. The wind in the rigging sang to him like the Sirens to Ulysses. As he watched the sleek bow knife through the warm, clear water and tasted the salt in the air, he knew he would never be the same.
Time passed, and he learned to sail. As with any good sailor, he learned the tides, the channels, and the reefs. He also learned to pay attention to that capricious lady, Mother Nature. It wasn’t long before he realized that the same ocean he found so peaceful and serene could, in a very short time, become an awesome creature, terrifying and merciless. Even so, he loved it—or perhaps because of this, he loved it. It was the same feeling of challenge and risk that flying gave him.
Travis worked with his friend for about three years, sailing during the day and chasing the ladies of Key West in the evenings. Life was easy and certainly entertaining, but he still dreamed of having his own flying service. Finally he managed a part-time position with a small charter service on the island. It was also about that time he met a fellow pilot named William J. Cody, and his life became ultimately more interesting.
As the runway suddenly loomed ahead, Travis got down to the business of landing his plane. Backing off the throttles, adjusting prop pitch, and dropping twenty degrees of flaps, he set up a perfect final and settled the 310 gently onto the strip. He taxied over to the ramp, killed the engines, and got out. Then he helped his passengers out of the aircraft.
His clients were both engineers from Miami, working on a project in Key West. They needed two hours in Marathon to meet with an attorney. From there they were to go on to Key West, then back to Miami by the end of the day. It was a lot of bouncing around, but they were paying for it, and paying well.
Travis figured he would touch base with his secretary in the cubicle he called an office, and then have a little lunch. By that time, the engineers would be back and it would be off to Key West.
Travis was putting the chocks under the wheels of his plane when he felt a strange sense of uneasiness come over him. He stood up for a second and looked around. The feeling rushed over him like that first gust of cool air that heralds an oncoming storm. It passed, but it left something in his gut, a foreboding that said pay attention . . . Most people would have shrugged it off and gone about their business, but Travis and the feeling were old friends. He didn’t understand, but he knew it was the reason he was alive today. He had experienced the sensation a number of times in Vietnam. The first time he hadn’t paid much attention to it—that day he was shot down behind enemy lines and came as close to being killed as he had during his entire tour. He learned to listen, to rely on it, and the feeling had saved his life and the lives of his crew a number of times.
Now, after all this time, standing on an airstrip in an innocuous little town in the Keys, here it was again—and it was bad. He looked around again, still unable to find anything out of the ordinary. Finally, with a last glance at the plane, he walked through the gate and into the building where his mini-office was.
As he entered the office, his part-time girlfriend/full-time secretary looked up and smiled. “Hi, flyboy. How’s it going?”
Travis attempted a smile, still occupied with his ominous vibration. “Okay. I’m okay, but it looks like it’s going to be a long day. I don’t expect to be back from Miami until about eight tonight.”
Linda studied him for a moment—the soft lines etched into his rugged but handsome face, the touch of agitation in his bright, hazel eyes, the set of his jaw. “You all right?” she asked. “You look like you just found a finger in your jelly donut.”
Travis stifled a laugh. God, she could read him well. He gave a short, uneasy sigh. “Yeah, I’m all right. Everything’s fine. Anybody need flying anywhere?”
She glanced at her notes, “You’ve got three for Fort Lauderdale tomorrow at eight a.m., and if you’re willing to hang around up there until about two, I think we’re going to get another triple for Key West on the return. They’re going to confirm this afternoon.”
“Great. So switch on the answering machine and let’s go have lunch.”
“Okay,” Linda replied. “A quick lunch, then I’ve got to run over to my mom’s for half an hour. She’s been really sick with the flu that’s been going around and I promised I’d check in on her.”
“Not a problem. Come on.”
With the prospect of a good week ahead, they decided to splurge and do Mexican at the Faro Blanco. Linda had a Margarita with lunch while Travis settled, reluctantly, for an iced tea. They had a relatively quick but enjoyable meal, discussing business and pleasure equally. Linda was always fun, and she had a good business head, which was a hard combination to find. Looking at her from across the small table he was reminded how attractive she was. Her hair was sandy-blonde, lightened by the s
un and the sea, and her eyes were as soft and dark as a newborn fawn’s. She had a perpetual, honey-colored Caribbean tan, and an economical little figure that reminded Travis of a college cheerleader. She was very close to what he wanted, and he cared for her a great deal, but he wasn’t sure he was in love. She was well aware of his struggle with commitment, but she was banking on him coming around.
When they had finished lunch, she took her car to her mother’s and Travis drove back to the airport. He noticed, as he drove, that the nagging feeling of unease had not abated in the least. He decided that he would pay special attention to flying today. He also sensed something unusual about the air, almost as if there were an increase in the static electricity. It was difficult to describe, but he felt like the hairs on his arms were constantly prickling.
He was stopped at one of the few traffic lights in Marathon when he felt the tremor. It was distinct enough to sense while sitting in his car. Then it happened again—but stronger. What in hell is that? An earthquake in the Florida Keys? That was unheard of. There were no local faults. “Maybe someone’s blasting a channel somewhere,” he muttered to himself. In fact, it felt a lot like a couple of thousand-pounders the ’52s used to drop in ’Nam, and it felt like they had dropped them somewhere close.
He switched on the radio, and caught the announcer’s frantic voice in mid-sentence. ” . . . unconfirmed reports of additional major quakes in Europe and Asia as well as in the South Pacific. There have also been reports of a large landmass rising out of the sea in the vicinity of Bermuda and heavy volcanic activity from the Windward Islands through Central and South America. The big news, however, is that a quake of epic proportions took place in California at approximately seven-thirty Pacific Standard Time this morning—less than a half hour ago. Everything is mass confusion from Portland, Oregon, to the border of Mexico. There are no hard facts at this point, but it is believed that the majority of California, or at least, with relative certainty, the California coast, has disappeared into the sea! There are further reports of massive quakes on the eastern seaboard, but at this time we have no idea of actual damage. The President, from Air Force One, already in the air, is calling for an emergency session of Congress to evaluate the situation here and abroad, and to determine appropriate action. Stay tuned to KSEA Radio as we continue to broadcast news on these and other events throughout the day . . .”
The New Madrid Run Page 1