2042: The Great Cataclysm

by Melisande Mason

  ‘Must be worse than we thought.’ Pete said. ‘Every plane destined for LA must be here. Jesus, it’s summer, why’s it so cold?’

  Bill Duffey, the airport Controller was surrounded by news men and was trying his best to maintain his temper. James waited until the press had been disbanded by security staff and approached his old friend with trepidation. ‘Bill I’ve got a plane load of very agitated people out there. What can I tell them?’

  ‘Hi James. Sorry we’re in a real mess here. You heard what happened to LA?’ Without waiting for a reply Bill continued. ‘You’ll have to leave your passengers where they are for now. There’s no hope of flying back to LA. I’m afraid there’s not a room available in town. The military’s been flying people in here for three days. People are sleeping in tents.’

  ‘We can’t just stay on the plane Bill! I’ll have a riot on my hands!’

  ‘It’s out of my hands. You’ll have to wait for instructions from the military, they’re in charge now.’

  ‘The military! Jesus Bill! Has world war three started as well?’

  Bill was becoming exasperated. ‘No, but it may as well have. I’m sorry James, I can’t spend any more time with you. I’ve got a million things to take care of. Please, just go back to your plane and wait.’

  ‘Fine! C’mon Pete. We’re getting nowhere here. Better do what he says.’ James dreaded the reaction from the passengers. They’ll blame him. What the hell could he tell them, that they just have to sit tight and wait!

  They climbed back into the cockpit on 712, and delaying the announcement that James knew would cause pandemonium among the passengers he asked Pete. ‘Where’s my sat-phone phone? ‘I’d better call Jean and see if she’s okay.’

  James’ home was high in the hills at Calabasas Los Angeles, north of the city. He was not concerned until he failed to raise Jean on the phone. He tried several numbers of friends and relations, but was unable to get through. The city was cut off!

  Before James had time to advise the passengers an army jeep pulled up and an official looking gentleman climbed on board and was shown to the cockpit where he introduced himself. ‘I’m Lieutenant Cameron. I’ve been asked to advise you of the situation.’

  ‘Before you start, let’s go back into that cabin and you can advise my passengers at the same time.’ James was delighted to have put the onus of the dreaded announcement onto the shoulders of the army. ‘See if you can worm their way out of this one.’

  ‘Captain this is fairly sensitive stuff. Are you sure you want me to be the one to tell them?’

  ‘Of course. Wouldn’t have it any other way.’ James grinned, opening the flight deck door, ushering the Lieutenant through.

  ‘Ladies and Gentlemen can I have your attention please. This is Lieutenant....?’ James had already forgotten his name.

  ‘Cameron.’ The Lieutenant said. ‘Um, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but ah, there’s been a major catastrophe at Los Angeles and you have to stay here until further notice.’

  ‘Well done!’ James hissed. ‘You idiot! Now the passengers are not only angry but their scared out of their wits!

  Angry men hurled abuse and women wailed. One passenger who had obviously bided his time with a smuggled bottle of liquor, jumped out of his seat and began beating the Lieutenant around the head with a paper, garbling something about the bloody army. The crew pulled him off the startled Lieutenant, while James tried to calm the other passengers. When the scuttle died down James turned to him and asked, ‘Now that you have advised us, perhaps you’d be kind enough to give us the details.’

  The Lieutenant brushed himself down and scowled at James and Pete, then realising he had been a little abrupt apologised. ‘I’m very sorry. We’ve ah, been under so much pressure. Look, all I can tell you is that we have been told there’s major structural damage to the city and wide spread flooding. It’s not only LA. Other major cities all around the world have been hit. It’s the worst natural disaster in modern history. We don’t know when, or even if you’ll be able to return. Every hotel room and accommodation house in Vegas is full up.’

  ‘What are we supposed to do?’ A passenger cried.

  ‘The army will send over food and bedding, I suggest you make yourselves comfortable here in the plane, at least you’ll have a roof over your heads. Most people have been forced to sleep in tents out in the freezing desert.’

  They left Simon to deal with the babbling confused passengers, and as James and Pete escorted the Lieutenant to his jeep he asked, ‘Is there anything more you care to tell me Lieutenant? Why is it so cold?’

  ‘I don’t know, we’ve been bombarded by cold gale force winds for hours. The situation’s very bad sir. We don’t know if we’ve got enough food to feed everybody, supplies are dwindling fast. Survivors from all the flooded coastal cities have fled into the hills where there’s no access to the normal supply of food, so we’re dropping food and clothing. It’s draining our supplies here as fast as we can bring them in. People are angry that the army has taken over, but it was the President himself who declared Martial Law.’

  ‘You mean Washington’s been affected too? James asked incredulously and the Lieutenant nodded.

  ‘Surely it’ll be okay when the flooding recedes?’

  ‘That’s the worst part. We’ve been told the sea level has risen by thirty to forty feet, and it’s not gone down!’

  ‘What the hell happened!’ James said, running both hands desperately through his hair. ‘We all thought that Australian guy was nuts with his predictions of massive earthquakes and tsunami?’

  ‘Yeah well he wasn’t, as it turns out he was being conservative. I don’t have the time or the energy to discuss it now. I don’t have any answers.’ He said starting the jeep motor. ‘The Generals are keeping a tight lid on things. I suggest you go back to your passengers, you’re still responsible for them you know.’

  James shivered as he glanced at his watch. ‘One am! Hell, it’s been one long day!’ He muttered to Pete. He was tired and confused, and after his conversation with the Lieutenant, worried sick. What was going to happen to them? They both stopped dead as small flecks of snow began to fall onto their shoulders.

  ‘I don’t believe this!’ James said turning around with his arms spread wide. ‘Bloody snow? In June, in Las Vegas?’

  Pete shrugged his shoulders and they hurried back to Flight 712.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Mt Rockwell June 9

  Laura Forrest sat on the single bed facing the bare pale blue walls of the small room she occupied, that carried a plate on the outside of the door identifying it as cube 24 in block eight. The room was about three metres square and the floor was covered with cheap carpet. It was sparsely furnished with one small table, two chairs, a bedside table with a curious oval light protruding from the wall above it. The bed resembled something out of an old Mash episode was covered by a light grey chenille spread. There was no need for blankets, as a steady stream of warm air filtered into the room from a silver-foil tube above her head. This room was located off a short hallway that led to the front door. The other rooms, a small kitchen, bathroom and lounge area were reasonably furnished but not something Laura was accustomed to.

  Other community rooms such as a large canteen and leisure centres were located on the ground floor of each block. The restaurant where General Porter had dined, and others of a similar nature were reserved for the higher ranking service personnel. It was definitely a two-class society and Laura had no doubt she was second-class. The only thing she was grateful for was that she was free to go wherever she wished since the press conference. She wished to go home, but military personnel were only permitted to travel by Veto to the Capitol. A curfew of nine o’clock was imposed and was mostly adhered to, except Laura did hear of some infractions which resulted in the perpetrators being thrown into the local jailhouse. She gritted her teeth and remembered the few days she was imprisoned there. She was a guest now and was no less angry, she ma
y as well be living on the moon.

  There was a telephone beside her bed which was for internal communications only. She picked it up and dialled cube 32 in block sixteen. Maxime jumped on the bed and nudged her softly and received long warm strokes from her mistress.

  Josh Harrington’s familiar warm voice answered, but it was thick and slow.

  ‘How’y doing Josh?’

  ‘I’m okay. It’s lonely here though, nights are the worst.’

  ‘You want to talk about it?’

  ‘No..... No amount of talk will bring them back. How about you?’

  ‘I’m fine. Bored out of my mind. This curfew’s driving me crazy. Just wanted to say hi to a friend. I didn’t feel like going down to the community room to mingle with people just as depressed as me.’

  ‘Well, if you’re ah, looking for scintillating conversation you won’t get it from me.’

  ‘I didn’t expect it. Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘No. Thanks Laura. I have to get through this myself. I wonder how Nick’s doing. Have you heard anything?’

  ‘No. I’m worried sick. The last time I saw him, I told him it would be the last time, I was breaking it off. Now I’ll probably never see him again. I hope he’s okay.’

  ‘Oh… Good timing Laura. I bet he didn’t take that too well.’

  ‘At least he doesn’t have to worry about me now, he’s free of that tie.’

  ‘He’ll always worry about you, that’s the kind of guy he is. He’s a survivor. He’ll be okay.’

  ‘Yeah, we’re all survivors, but will we ever be okay again?’

  ‘Goodnight Laura.’

  ‘Night Josh.’

  Josh replaced the receiver, clutched his head and sobbed. He remained there several minutes trying to stop the flow of tears. Then he rose and paced the room thinking about the recent events. He had prepared his wife and three children for evacuation, but when the warnings came she had panicked, packed the children into their station wagon and fled from the house to find Josh. Inevitably she had become entangled in fleeing traffic and became boxed into a huge traffic jam. Josh held a high level position in the Science Department but he did not have the clout to commandeer a Veto to pluck her from the stranded panic-stricken escapees. He did not even have a photo of them, as everything they had of value in the world had been packed into the wagon. There was a distinct pain gnawing inside his chest and a hollowness inside his head that would not go away, even in his sleep it threatened to swallow his very being. Guilt tore at his soul for remaining alive, when they had probably perished without being given the chance to say goodbye. He wondered if he could live without them. What was the use of going on? He was bitter and lonely and survival seemed pointless.

  ***

  On the morning of the third day Laura was visiting the operations room and had been sitting outside in an adjoining room that was usually reserved for the President. She sank down into the high-winged lounge chair and swivelled it away from the television monitor on the wall. Sitting in this position she could not be seen by anyone entering the room. She had begun to drift off to sleep when the door behind her opened and she heard two lowered voices. Something in their tone made her freeze and she strained to hear what they were saying.

  ‘Goddam it man! Do you have to kill him? There must be another way.’

  The wheezy low voice sounded like General Douglas, but she couldn’t be sure.

  ‘Have you got a better idea? This is getting out of hand. If we don’t do something soon there’ll be total anarchy here, for Christ sake.’

  Who were they plotting to kill? Laura wanted to demand an answer, but common sense told her to stay hidden. She strained to hear more, but the voices drifted away until she could no longer hear the conversation. What could she do anyway? Who could she trust? Josh was the only person, but he was struggling to deal with the loss of his family, and had lost the drive and ambition she had once admired. Instead, she crept away like a guilty child caught listening at her parent’s door. Back in her small apartment she felt recharged. Now she had something to focus on, she had to find out who was plotting to kill whom.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Washington June 9

  Kathy Martin had just arrived at her executive office in Alexandria, Washington at 8.30am on June 9 when she heard about the Tsunami warnings from her excited staff. Kathy had started her personnel agency two years prior, and what had began as a small home based, one-person operation, had flourished into one of the most successful personnel agencies in town. She had moved into these offices on the sixth floor overlooking the Potomac River only six months earlier, after searching the city for just the right place.

  Brad Jones was a personable twenty year-old chosen by Kathy to be her secretary, following the recent trend toward hiring male personal assistants, and Kathy wanted her male clients to feel she also embraced this practice. She had not been sorry, as Brad was a delight to have around. He worked hard, did not mind the long hours, and it was a bonus to have a man around to do some of those little things required to keep an office running smoothly. He idolised Kathy and was not afraid to show his admiration, showering her with attention, cleaning her desk, earning the title Kathy’s little boy.

  Brad showed this concern by trying to convince Kathy that they should close the office for the day and move to safe ground.

  ‘Don’t be silly Brad. Alexandria’s safe, the south dam will protect us. Besides, they said it would be eight to ten hours before it arrives in this vicinity.’

  Kathy had sent her staff home but refused to leave herself. ‘I’m working on the Horsefield account Brad, if we get that account it’ll support us for years. I’ve got to have it finished by Thursday, that only gives me two days.’

  ‘If you insist on staying, then I’m staying with you.’ Brad said.

  ‘Thought you might.’ Kathy grinned.

  ‘Yes, but..’

  ‘No buts. We’ve got stacks of work to get through. I promise we’ll be out of here by six.’

  All day Brad checked the internet and listened to the radio turned down low. He learned from the building manager that all the other offices had closed and he was unable to concentrate on his tasks, disturbed by the frantic activity he could see on the river. Sirens wailed throughout the city all day, and surprisingly the majority of boats were heading up river.

  Brad popped his head into Kathy’s office. ‘Why d’you think everyone’s heading up river?’

  ‘Don’t know. Maybe trying to find a safe anchor.’

  ‘I still think we should pack up and go home.’ Brad muttered.

  Kathy waved him away and went on with her work, speaking in a calm voice to her computer display on her office wall.

  At four-fifteen Brad had taken a coffee break to watch the action from the balcony facing the river. Over the sounds of the sirens and Vetos, he heard a tremendous thundering roar. For a moment he thought it was a huge rolling thunderstorm. He turned his eyes to the east and in the fading light saw the sky turn an inky black.

  Suddenly the window behind him exploded with a heart stopping crash. Brad instinctively hurled himself to the balcony floor, covering his head with his arms. Glass showered in all directions covering him, and slicing a large gash in his arm.

  Kathy ran to the balcony and stumbled as the wild wind force hit her. ‘Brad! Are you all right? What happened? What on earth was that?’

  ‘I’m okay.’ Brad said, picking himself up and brushing glass from his body.

  Just then two police boats went by, lights flashing, sirens screeching. A voice on a loudhailer warned of flooding. Brad and Kathy turned and could not believe their eyes when both boats were picked up by a huge surging wave and carried eastward out of control. A mountain of black water began creeping up and over the river banks. Brad had never seen anything like it in his life.

  ‘I told you we should’ve gone home! Look! The river’s rising too quickly! The dam must have burst.’ By the time he finished speaking
the mounting surge had reached the base of their building and they watched in horror as it continued to rise, flooding the first floor and moving forcefully upward toward the second.

  ‘We’d better get out of here fast! Brad cried.

  ‘How? Where can we go, the bottom floors are flooding!’

  ‘The emergency stairs! They go up to the roof.’

  They picked their way carefully over the glass on the office floor to the emergency exit door. When they entered the stairwell the thick door slammed behind them, isolating them from the office and increasing the deafening thunderous roar outside. The air smelled of concrete and dust.

  Kathy paused. ‘My phone! I should’ve grabbed my sat-phone.’ She yelled. ‘It’s on my desk. We’ll need it to get help.’

  ‘I’ll go back for it.’ Brad said grabbing the door as he spoke.

  ‘It won’t open!’ he cried.

  ‘Oh, shit!’ Kathy exclaimed. ‘I forgot. The door only opens out. It’s an emergency exit. You can’t get in that way. Security.’

  ‘Great! Now we really are stuck! We’ll have to try to signal some help from the roof.’

  ‘What in the dark! We don’t even have a torch. We’ll probably be stuck there until the morning!’

  ‘Don’t yell at me. It’s not my fault. You’re the one who refused to go home.’

  ‘Maybe someone’s still on one of the floors above.’

  ‘Bloody mad if they are!’ Brad said as they hurried up the stairs.

  He banged on the door of the sixth floor hoping someone had been bloody mad and stayed behind, but there was no reply.