“All that for a few hours?” Mark sounded alarmed. “I thought this was to be a short excursion?”
“It is, dear,” I said, laying my hand on his arm. “I’m sure Marsha was just being extra cautious. Besides, if we run into anyone, we should have food to share.” I turned back to Jim. “What else do we need?”
Just then Eric and Rayn arrived from across the street.
“I managed to find a crowbar and bolt cutters,” Jim said, “though I couldn’t find a chainsaw.”
“Mom’s got one,” Eric said, heading to the barn, with Rayn close behind. They returned with the chainsaw, a bottle of chain oil, and a canister of pre-mixed gas. “I also grabbed a longer crowbar. It could come in handy.”
“What do you need all that for?” Mark asked. “It sounds like you plan on doing some breaking and entering.”
“It might be necessary,” Jim stated flatly. “I’m hoping we find some places that aren’t burned to a crisp. This is a scouting trip, yes, it’s also a preliminary scavenging expedition. We will never have enough supplies, Doc, I want to make sure we have all that we can. It’s a matter of survival.”
Mark looked perplexed. “I can understand that, but why the chainsaw?”
“It’s thirty-five miles from here to the city limits, and it hasn’t been traveled for a month. There could be trees down on the road from the last storms,” Eric said.
“Are we ready?” Jim asked.
“I only need to grab my pack,” I said. “Mark, can I see you in the house for a minute?”
Once inside, I turned to my husband, taking his big hands in my small ones.
“I’m going to need a basic first aid kit. Will you put one together for me? I believe in being over prepared, you know that, so it should include some pain killers and antibiotics – in case we run into someone who needs them.”
While he was selecting a few things, I took my backpack that was always ready, and added an extra box of 9mm ammo, two more magazines for my Kel-Tec, and a box of .223 for my rifle. The pack was getting heavy.
Mark added the first aid kit to my pack, and then hugged me, whispering, “Please be careful and stay out of trouble.”
~~~
The ride into town was relatively uneventful. There was zero traffic, as expected, and the road was surprisingly free of debris. We stopped at the Basin Bridge and all of us got out.
“Sargent Jones, will you accompany me across the bridge please?” Jim said.
“Excuse me?” I said. “Why are we being left behind?”
“Allex, you’re not being left behind. Two should stay with the vehicle and cover our back. Rayn will cover us moving forward while I inspect the structure for damage,” he said. When I raised an eyebrow, he laughed. “This is still a military operation, ma’am.”
He turned without further word and started across. Halfway across he paused and leaned over the side. Rayn stopped and kept focused forward. Jim went to the other side and looked over the edge.
“Colonel,” I called out, “on the other end of the bridge there is half of the old bridge that was kept for fishing. It will allow you a better view of underneath.”
He nodded and they continued over. After searching the underside of the bridge for recent defects, the two of them came back to the Hummer.
“It would appear that the controlled detonation of the dam worked to prevent structural damage. The water is high, as to be expected, though not so high to matter … except that the old bridge is now six inches underwater.” He shook a wet boot. “Let’s go.”
We went to the coal yards for the electric plant first, as close as we could get anyway. The fire was burning hot and the asphalt pavement leading into plant was liquid. The air was heavy with heat and the nauseating odor of petroleum tar. It was going to be burning for a very long time.
“Suggestions?” Jim said to all of us. “Allex, what would be the best route to get back to the shore line?”
Access to the shoreline road was blocked with melted asphalt and broken pavement. Every street we tried was buckled or blocked with fallen buildings. The streets leading through or around the university gave us a clear view of the devastation of that once proud school. It was now leveled to the ground, steel girders watching over it like silent behemoths. We made it to the next major artery only to be stopped again by pavement that was ripped up like it was a toy track.
“What caused the streets to do that, ma’am?” Rayn asked from the back seat.
“The worst road damage seems to be near gas stations, so I would guess the explosion of the underground tanks did this,” I answered her as best I could. “Jim, let’s get back to Fleet Street. There aren’t any gas stations along that stretch. It will take us around to the west side of town and we can approach the shoreline from the south. Perhaps there’s a way to get through.”
Fleet was littered with massive potholes, and what wasn’t was rippled from the heat that had passed over it a month ago. The damage was minimal compared to the other roads, and the military multi-wheeled drive vehicle took the challenge easily, though slowly. We ventured down a few of the main streets that intersected with Fleet, only to be turned back by blockage too great to go around. After the third such try, we stayed on Fleet until we came to Highway 41.
“As we feared, Walstroms has suffered major casualties,” Jim said with a frown. We stared at the huge store and the caved in roof. “If it’s any consolation, this makes me feel better about all the stuff that was commandeered.”
We turned east and followed the highway to the lake.
“I tried to visualize what this might look like, Jim, but even my worst thoughts are no match for this,” I remarked. The shells of burned out buildings stood like hulking monsters lying in wait. Others were just piles of rubble, some of which were still smoldering. Without the familiar landmarks I was quickly getting disoriented. The Big Lake, Lake Superior, looming in front of us was the only constant, and led us to Shoreline Drive and the harbor.
The scene was surreal. It was like viewing a disaster movie set after the money shot. The few buildings that dotted the marina were nothing but piles of charred rubbish while the playground equipment was untouched. A single swing moved listlessly in the pre-winter wind coming from the lake, squeaking with every push it got from that invisible hand. In the back of my mind it reminded me of a movie, and I couldn’t or didn’t want to remember which one.
In the harbor itself, skeletons of burned out watercraft bobbed aimlessly in the shallows, while other, bigger boats, untouched by the flames, were smashed against the ancient pylons of the long ago closed ore docks that were part of Marquette’s boom and history. The water itself had a surprising clarity to it.
“I’ve seen enough,” Jim stated, disturbing the absolute quiet of the car as we all took in the horrendous residue.
“Me, too. Let’s go back west and see if there is anything beyond Walstroms,” I suggested. “I’m not interested in seeing downtown. From what you saw before the evacuation, there isn’t anything left anyway.”
Passing back through the carnage was no better than the first time and in some ways even worse. With the wind now blowing at us we were enveloped in the smells.
“Ew, what is that?” Eric asked, wrinkling his nose as he rolled up his window.
Jim took a whiff, then rolled his window up too and turned on the air conditioner, even though the outside temperature hovered around forty-five degrees.
“Wood, plastics, fuels and … meat, that’s what you smell,” he stated simply. That he can say that so easily makes me wonder what he’s seen during his long career.
“Meat?” Eric questioned. When he realized it was human flesh he smelled all he could say was, “Oh.”
My stomach lurched at the cloying stench and I closed my eyes to battle the urge to vomit. I took a sip of water from my bottle to settle my stomach, but it didn’t help much, only distance would do that.
It felt odd to stop in the middle of the road, even though
it was completely vacant and had been for over a month. I must still be so conditioned by laws no longer enforceable that it made me edgy to sit here.
“There’s another store about a half mile west of here: Shopmore. It’s like a smaller version of Walstroms without the fresh food,” I informed Jim when he started the Hummer moving again. He made a right turn where I indicated and we were headed north again. It was a surprise to see trees still standing, though they were leafless, and the road was smooth. Around the bend, the store came into view. It was unscathed by the fires!
“Before we start exploring, I think we should have some water, maybe one of these sandwiches,” I suggested. “Believe it or not, we’ve been driving around for almost five hours.”
We sat on the parched grassy island in the center of the Shopmore parking lot and opened the cooler, like a family having a picnic.
“What do you think we’re going to find, Colonel?” Eric asked, taking a bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, casually offering the other half to Rayn.
“Hopefully it’s what and not who,” he answered, chomping into tuna fish. “If it’s occupied by scavengers, it could get dicey. I want us to stay close and keep weapons drawn when we go in.”
I had difficulty swallowing the bit of muffin I had in my mouth when he issued those orders. So much for staying out of trouble.
Rayn moved the Hummer up close to the front doors while Jim and Eric circled the building, checking for forced entry. The main doors were closed and locked with no visible signs of damage.
“This could be our lucky day,” Jim smiled, hefting one of the crowbars ready to smash the glass.
“Wait!” Rayn cried, and Jim stopped in mid-swing. The center doors were meant to slide open when activated by motion, reliant on electricity that was no longer available. The two doors on either side were designed to open with a push. She went to the nearest one and placed her hand on the glass, giving it a nudge. It swung open soundlessly. She turned around and grinned.
Rayn frowned. “Looks dark in here.”
I pulled a mini mag-light from my pocket and looped the lanyard around my wrist. I noticed everyone did the same with various sizes of flashlights. The bright LED lights cast shadows over the displays.
“Recon only, everyone,” the Colonel ordered, pulling his Beretta from its holster. We all did likewise and headed up the center aisle. The lights barely cut through the gloom that permeated the building. It was enough, though, to see depleted racks of clothing still hanging silently waiting for a customer. Another aisle produced boxes of dry cereal and crackers that had been ravaged by rodents. What few cans of food were left had labels partially chewed off, but were otherwise untouched.
I headed up one more aisle toward the health care area, Eric on my heels.
“Looking for anything in particular, Mom?”
“Vitamins, supplements, that sort of thing,” I replied as I spotted what I wanted.
“This was to be recon only, Allexa,” the Colonel said from behind me.
“For you maybe, but I may not have another chance.” I started filling my pockets with bottles of garlic capsules, oil of oregano, and D-3.
“Why those?” he asked.
“The garlic and oregano are natural antibiotics and antivirals. The D-3 helps with the lack of sun depression that will eventually hit,” I said. “With the flu on a rampage right now, this could be important.”
“Here,” the Colonel said after having left for a few moments. He shook open a large plastic garbage bag, one for each of us. We all scooped bottles of everything into the sacks. I’d sort them out later.
“Back to the front,” Jim barked once we had cleared out those shelves. We all stepped outside into the now fading light. “I think we’ve scored a jackpot!” he grinned.
Just then I felt a rumble under my feet, and saw the others sway. The rumble grew to a shaking and it was hard to stand upright. I grabbed onto the handle of the Hummer to keep from stumbling and saw the others do the same. Then it was over.
“What the hell was that?” Jim cried out.
“It felt like an earthquake,” Rayn said. “I was born and raised in California, sir, and was stationed there for two years. Earthquakes were quite common. This one felt really strong, or really close, or both.”
Feeling nervous, I said, “I think we should head back, at least get on the other side of the Basin Bridge.” We tossed our booty into the back of the Hummer and climbed in. We were heading out the service road when the next tremor hit. The Humvee skittered sideways and Jim fought to keep control.
Once the shaking stopped, Jim floored it and we were soon speeding down Highway 41 and then Fleet Street, our discovery now secondary. He did a good job of dodging the biggest potholes, though still managed to hit a few that bounced us around and rattled our fillings.
“Jim, we’ll be in world of hurt if you blow a tire on this thing!” I yelled at him over the whine of the engine. He immediately slowed, though not by much. Our turn was coming up quickly and I could see the pavement buckling. Fortunately, he saw it too and jumped the curb, cutting across the burnt lawn of whatever business had been there.
He swerved to miss a wall that tumbled across the road, and kept going. On 695 again with the bridge in sight, we all let out a collective sigh… then the next jolt hit. I could see the sides of the bridge start to crumble and gasped. I know Jim saw it too, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down.
We made it across with the bridge collapsing behind us.
“My God that was close!” I gasped as we cleared the last of the bridge. “You two okay back there?”
Eric let out a long breath. “We’re okay, Mom, but I sure don’t want to try that again!”
Jim sped up and put a couple of miles between us and the bridge before anyone said anything else. As we approached Ravens Perch, he slowed the vehicle and stopped. He wiped his hands over his face and got out.
The three of us looked at each other and got out too.
“I’m getting too old for this shit,” Jim said. He put his hands on his knees and took a couple of deep breaths.
“For being ‘too old’, sir, you drive like an ace! That was some pretty fancy maneuvering!” Eric said, laughing to ease the tension we were all feeling.
Jim looked up from his bent over position to look at my son. “That’s the most fun I’ve had in ages, though I’m not anxious to repeat it any time soon,” he grinned. “Let’s go home.”
~~~
“I’ve been so worried about you, Allex!” Mark said, crushing me to his chest. “You were gone so long I was sure something had happened when the tremors hit. Did you feel them?”
“Oh, yes.”
We were all gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying the heat from the wood stove. Eric pulled a bottle of rum from the cabinet and got down five glasses from the shelf. He looked at the colonel and Mark, and retrieved the bottle of Gray Goose and the Scotch.
“How bad were the quakes here?” I asked.
“Not super bad, though we did feel them. Where do you think was the epicenter?” Mark took a sip of his scotch.
“My guess is the main quake was to the east, since what we felt while in Marquette was a lot stronger than what you had,” Rayn replied without thinking.
Mark looked alarmed and downed his drink. “Okay, so fess up. What happened?” he asked Jim, knowing I would downplay it.
“We felt three distinct tremors. We headed out of town right after the first one, Allexa insisted. Personally, I’m glad she did, because the next two got stronger. The last one hit as we were crossing the Basin Bridge,” Jim replied in that deadpan, calm manner he had. “The bridge is now gone.”
Mark turned pale.
“It’s not as if we would have been stranded, though,” I said quickly. “There is another way back – up country road 150. It’s a gravel road and since we haven’t had any snow, it’s still open.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt.
“I didn’
t know this, Allexa,” Jim said with a scowl.
“It does mean, though, that we can go back!” Rayn piped in enthusiastically.
CHAPTER 38
November 27
With the probability of being able to get back into Marquette and to the Shopmore store, Jim and Tom spent the morning planning and organizing while I took notes for them.
“Tell me what you know about this county road 150, Allexa,” Jim requested. “What are we likely to find, things to watch out for, that kind of thing.”
“It’s eighty percent gravel with patches that were paved to protect the substructure from erosion. I used to live ten miles south and just off that road,” I replied, thinking of my woods house, hidden away deep in the forest. “The county used to keep it plowed in the winter but I don’t think it’s been maintained at all for the past year. I would recommend taking at least two chainsaws to clear any fallen trees. Even during good times trees dropping were quite common.”
“That makes sense. Anything else to watch for?”
“Some of the men that are going with you might know the area better than I do. I rarely ventured south of my own road. I do know that with it being plowed in the winter, the road would narrow to one vehicle in certain places, especially by the Hairpin.”
“The Hairpin is a very tight loop in the road with rock shears on either side,” Tom explained. “Even the loggers would use chains on their tires in that area. It could get real treacherous, so it’s a good thing we haven’t had any snow yet.” Tom paused while he thought. “Come to think of it, I don’t remember any turnouts in that area, do you Allex?”
“No I don’t. What I do remember is backing up a long way once, and it was the last time I traveled that road in the winter. I backed into an old logging trail on the west side of the road to turn around.” I looked at Jim before going on. “A standard sized vehicle could make a five-point turn when the roadsides weren’t reduced by snowbanks.”
The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3) Page 25