Sinagua Rising: A story of survival after a worldwide catastrophe

by R. G. Andersen-Wyckoff

  As they began to depart for their own homes, Bishop asked Travis and Melanie if they’d stay behind for just a minute and, once the others had left, Bishop sat down with them.

  “I have a couple of sensitive questions I have to ask,” Bishop said, “and, I felt it best if we dealt with them privately.” Bishop went on to ask Melanie, with her experience in medicine, how long she felt they could stay where they now were before disease became an issue?

  “It’s already an issue, Bish. There are already serious contaminants on the ground, like heavy metals and asbestos, which will eventually find their way into all parts of the Village and our ground water as the winds blow and we get our first rain. The most serious issue will be the decomposing corpses and the threat they will pose as mosquitos, flies, carrion birds, and small animals begin to feed on the corpses and then can spread diseases. They could start an epidemic for which we would have no defense. So, to answer your question,” she said, “the sooner we can get away from these contaminants, the better. We will ultimately need a water source that has no connection to the runoff here in the Village, and a place to reside that gets us up above the mosquitoes and away from the immediate vicinity of the Village.”

  “I was afraid this might be the case.” Bishop responded. “I appreciate your candor and may need you to explain this to the others when the time comes. Maybe tomorrow morning.”

  “Travis, my question to you has to do with fresh food. We learned today that we have enough canned, dehydrated and pre-cooked food to last us quite a while. But, as you know, there’s no substitute for fresh fruit and vegetables. If, or should I say when, we have to relocate our families, can we dismantle your greenhouse and hydroponics system and relocate the components and plants to another site?”

  Travis explained that, if they’re careful, they should be able to do what Bishop was suggesting. He said he was currently using solar energy and a small wind turbine to provide power for the pumps that moved water through his growing system, but could use a generator, until the solar and wind units were operational. “For the time being, at least, a generator might be the best answer,” he said. Sooner, or later, when fuel for the generator was no longer available, they would need to rely on the alternative energy sources. But, for now, it appeared with the gasoline resources they had identified, they would be just fine. He also pointed out that he had a large number of fruit trees of various sizes growing in large containers, some already bearing fruit, like lemons and mandarin oranges, and others that would begin producing in another year or so: more lemons, mandarins—and apples.

  He also told them he had recently been studying about the burgeoning use of aquaponic systems, where they are now growing large quantities of fresh vegetables in a fish-based system. Over time, even the fish can be harvested for eating. “In fact,” he said, “aquaponics was to be the primary topic of the meeting I was attending in Tucson when the threat of the CME became discussion priority #1. Fortunately, all the papers that had been prepared for the sessions, including a new aquaponics design and operating manual to be produced by the USDA, were made available on the tables prior to the start of the meeting. So I have all of that material. This system can grow more fresh vegetables and fruit faster than the hydroponics system, and has the advantage of not using any chemical fertilizers that, over time, would no longer be available. I was even considering converting my hydroponic system to aquaponics prior to the CME,” he concluded. He was sure that once they had his current system operational, he could start building an aquaponics system and conceivably have it operating within six months.

  “Okay,” said Bishop, “it appears that two major ingredients of our survival can be obtained. Let me think about it overnight and we’ll bring the entire group up to speed in the morning. Thanks for your input. Sleep well.”

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  Night fell on them like a heavy curtain except for the warm glow provided by the aurora borealis, which would be evident in the night sky for at least the next four days. The light from the aurora and the moon was muted by the smoky haze that was ever present. It was nearly 10:00 p.m. The Westins sat in the great room talking quietly. The children were asleep in their beds. Maybe for the last time, Bishop thought to himself.

  Cicadas scratched off messages from every tree, filling the night with a cacophony of their unique conversation. Suddenly, there was a loud scream and Bishop was on his feet and out the front door before anyone else could react, other than to wonder what it meant. Bishop had heard enough women screaming in the night in Nam to know what terror sounded like and instinctively knew a woman was in danger.

  As he ran out the door he yelled to Tanner to keep everyone inside and to warn the others, by radio, to stay put.

  As he reached the street a figure came out of the brush on the hillside across from the Lloyds’ house, obviously terrified, crying and looking over her shoulder. As she reached the street she turned and ran toward Bishop, not having seen him yet.

  Then came the sound of a dirt bike coming down the hillside, revving its engine. The girl instinctively looked over her shoulder in the direction of the sound of the motorcycle and ran right into Bishop. Bishop, having seen her coming, was prepared and managed to keep both of them from falling to the pavement. The girl was blubbering and speaking in broken Spanish phrases, between sobs, and initially struggled with Bishop, not knowing he was a friend. But, Bishop quickly moved the girl behind him and with his arm waved her toward his house while telling her to “get out of here.” He then turned to face the oncoming motorcycle.

  Tanner and Carly were by the gate in the courtyard and had seen Bishop direct the girl toward the house. They, too, encouraged her to come into the courtyard, where Carly wrapped her arm around the girl and talked to her soothingly, letting her know she was safe now.

  The dirt bike sped toward Bishop. The headlight of the bike was hitting him directly in the eyes so he could do nothing but stand his ground. The biker spun tight circles around Bishop and pulled to a stop just a matter of feet from him, but with the headlight facing toward the hill. Bishop squeezed his eyes shut to reclaim his night vision; a trick he had learned fighting at night in the rice paddies of Viet Nam. Now Bishop could see what he was dealing with. The rider set the kick-stand, and climbed off the bike. It was then that Bishop thought to himself, this isn’t going to end well!

  Bishop wasn’t a small man, standing 5’10” and weighing 175, but the biker stood several inches taller and a good 50-75 pounds heavier, much of it concentrated in his stomach. He definitely likes his beer, Bishop observed. His hair was unruly and he wore a bandanna to keep it out of his eyes. He had a scruffy beard, an earring in his right ear, and wore a black leather vest, without a shirt underneath, and jeans. Hobnailed boots completed his outfit. His build indicated to Bishop that he had, at one time, been a weight-lifter. His arms were as big as tree limbs, heavily muscled and covered with tattoos from his shoulders to his wrists. The knuckles on his right hand had L-O-V-E tattooed on them and the word H-A-T-E occupied the same space on his left hand. A large tattoo of some indistinguishable design peaked up from the V-neck of the vest and the curly hair that lay like a carpet on the big man’s chest. His head was large and sat on a neck that was almost as wide as his head, making it look like it was just one large slab connected to his shoulders. He had a large gold chain hanging around the stump that was his neck. His belt, barely visible beneath his overhanging stomach, boasted a large skull and crossbones buckle and a small chain ran from his belt to his wallet. His body radiated the smell of sweat and beer.

  “Well, what do we have here?” the biker said to no one in particular, with a slight slur to his speech. “Where’s the girl, old man?”

  Bishop just stood his ground, relaxed, and said, “There’s nothing here for you, Mister. Why don’t you just go back to your friends at the Full Moon and leave us alone!”

  “I don’t think so,” replied the biker. “I think I’m going to kick your ass, old man, and
then find the girl. I’m sure she’ll have lots of fun at our party tonight; or at least we will,” he said with a sadistic laugh.

  The biker was too full of liquor and himself to notice that Bishop had shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and was intently focused on the biker’s eyes. Bishop saw the move coming before the biker even knew he was doing it. It was the wide round-house punch so often used by big men who felt they were in total control and would flatten the opposition with one blow; but Bishop wasn’t just any opposition.

  He stepped under the swing and as the bigger man’s momentum carried him forward and past Bishop, hit him in the rib cage with his elbow. The big man wheezed and grunted from the punch but quickly righted himself. The biker was now angry, exactly what Bishop wanted; a man controlled by his anger rather than his brain.

  “What’s wrong, big guy,” Bishop taunted, “I thought you were going to kick my ass.”

  “I’m going to hurt you bad, old man,” he replied, “and then I’m going to bring my friends back here and have some fun.”

  At this point, Bishop realized there was only one way this could end. He couldn’t afford to have the Scorpions come to Morningside, regardless of how well armed he knew the Mavericks were. There would be a blood bath or worse, and he had the women and children to think about.

  The biker rushed Bishop, trying to grab him in a bear hug that surely would have crushed the wind out of Bishop, not to mention the damage the big man would have done to Bishop’s ribs. But Bishop was too quick for the big man, whose moves were sluggish and telegraphed before he made them.

  Bishop wanted the man’s face down where he could hit it, so he ducked under another punch and hit the man’s gut with his fist, hoping to make him bend over. The big man’s reaction was simply a grunt and a haymaker from the opposite side that almost connected. But the haymaker again carried the biker’s momentum past Bishop and he kicked the man on the outside of his knee. The knee buckled with a snap and Bishop knew he had hurt him.

  But, the biker didn’t go down. Instead, buoyed against the pain by the booze he had consumed and the anger that was now unabated, the biker reached behind him and pulled a hunting knife from a sheaf he had inside his belt at the small of his back. “I’m going to cut you into little pieces, you little prick,” the biker hissed, “and scatter the pieces for the coyotes. And when they find your head, they’ll find your balls stuffed in your mouth.” He waved the knife in front of him, slashing from right to left and back again as he moved toward Bishop. But Bishop didn’t flinch and he didn’t move back. You could see the look of bewilderment in the eyes of the big man. He couldn’t understand why the old man wasn’t moving away from him, back pedaling, and off-balance.

  But Bishop knew the slashes were useless until the blade could reach his body, and the biker wasn’t close enough; yet. He knew that knife jabs were the most effective; and he read this in the biker’s eyes, as well. Before the biker could bring the knife forward, with his body slightly turned, Bishop spun and kicked the big man’s knee again and this time the biker screamed and collapsed onto one knee, bringing his head down to Bishop’s level.

  With the speed of a striking cobra, Bishop drove the rigid heel of the palm of his hand into the point of the big man’s nose and let the momentum of the strike push the man’s firm nasal cartilage right up into the frontal lobe of the cerebral cortex of his brain. He was dead before he collapsed on the pavement.

  Bishop bent over, with his hands on his knees, and breathed deeply. I’m getting too old for this, he thought. He then turned and headed for the gate to the courtyard.

  Tanner, who had seen the whole thing, made sure Carly and the girl had stayed out of sight in the courtyard for the five minutes the confrontation had lasted. He now stepped out and greeted his father, but said nothing.

  When the girl saw Bishop she broke away from Carly and hysterically cried, “Mi hermano y mi Hermana…tengo qué alcanzarlos…ayúdenme por favór…¿yó se fué el hombre?...por favor, ayúdenme!”

  “Whoa,” said Bishop, “can you speak English?”

  “Si, yes, I am sorry,” she said. “My brother and sister are still up there in our home and I must get to them. Please help me. Is the man gone?”

  “Yes, the man is gone,” replied Bishop. “Why don’t you go into the house with my wife and let her help clean you up and then we’ll take you up to get your brother and sister!”

  She agreed and Carly took her inside. Bishop turned to Tanner and said, “we need to get rid of the bike and the body; and quickly!”

  By now, Bud and Colby, who had taken the first watch at their house and had seen what transpired, and Jack and Philip, who had heard the commotion, came into the courtyard.

  “My God, Bish,” said Bud, “I’ve never seen such a thing. Remind me not to ever pick a fight with you,” he added.

  “Let’s just not talk about it in front of the others,” Bishop requested. “I just got lucky and he was drunk. I couldn’t afford to have him go back and bring his buddies up here. I figured it was better to kill one man than to contemplate what he and his buddies would do if they all came up here. Now we need to get rid of the evidence before the Scorpions come looking for him and find out what’s happened.”

  Philip spoke up almost immediately. “I know how we can dispose of him and the bike and make it look like an accident. I know how to ride a dirt bike so I just need someone to drive my truck,” he said.

  Colby volunteered and Philip told them of his plan. “We’ll put the body in the back of my pickup. I’ll get the bike running and Cole can follow me with the truck. We’ll dump the bike and the body in the big pit caused by the explosion at our service station,” his voice cracking,“ and it will look like he was drunk and accidentally drove into the hole. I’ll leave the motor on the bike running until it quits on its own.”

  “I think that might work,” interjected Bishop. “He already smells like a brewery. Thanks, Philip, you did good!”

  “I’ll get some used water from our toilet supply and wash down the blood on the street so it won’t be spotted,” offered Jack.

  “And Tanner and I will take the girl to her home to find her brother and sister. We’ll bring them back here,” Bishop stated. “Bud, you’d better get back down to your house and keep an eye out for the Scorpions, since the Blue Moon is closest to your place,” he added.

  It took Bud, Cole, Jack, and Philip to wrestle the dead biker into the bed of the truck. They now all knew what people meant when they said they lifted “dead weight.”

  After the others left, Tanner grabbed his father’s arm. “Just a minute, Dad. That was an awfully brave thing you did up there with that biker. I knew you had hand-to-hand training in the Seals, but I didn’t know how good you really were until now. For 70 you’re pretty spry, old man,” he said with a wry smile and a look of admiration for his father.

  “Let’s just keep it between us,” he said. “There’s no need to let the women and children know I killed a man tonight. Just let me be the kids’ Grandpa!”

  “Gotcha,” Tanner responded. “Let’s see how our guest is doing.”

  ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

  “Bish, this is Jessica, Jessie, Escalante,” Carly said. “I thought she looked familiar when she came into the courtyard, but it wasn’t until we got the dirt cleaned off her face that I recognized her. Jessie has been Dr. West’s hygienist for the past three years.” Dr. West had been the Westin’s dentist in the Village for at least the past decade.

  “Well, I’m pleased to meet you, again, Jessie,” responded Bishop. Now that Carly mentions it, I do remember you, although you look a lot different without the surgical mask you had on while you were cleaning my teeth. I’m sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “My mother and father live up on Rim Trail Drive, in the Skyline subdivision. They’ve gone to visit relatives in Mexico and I was watching my younger sister, Tina, and brother, Jaime, while they w
ere gone. Dr. West always closes the office for two weeks this time of year and he and his family take a vacation to their cabin down near Pueblo, Colorado.

  “We heard all the explosions yesterday and saw the smoke from the fires and decided it was best if we stayed close to the house, even though the power was off. We cooked our food on the barbecue in the back yard. Tonight, we were sitting on the front porch when that big man on the dirt bike came roaring down our street, spotted us, and ran the bike right up into our front yard.

  “My sister, who is only 15, screamed and the big man just laughed. Jaime, who is 13, tried to act like a man and stood between the man and Tina and me. The man just shoved him over and grabbed me by the arm. I yelled at Tina and Jaime to run and hide, and they did, while the big man grabbed me by the hair and started kissing me. His hands were all over me and I knew what he was going to do. I bit his lip and screamed and tried to pull away from him. He ripped my blouse but for some reason he let go.

  “I ran up the street and through the side yard of a house at the edge of the mesa and then ran and slid down the hill to your street. I heard the bike behind me and turned to see how close he was, and then I ran into you. I thought you were one of his friends, I was hysterical and really don’t remember anything else until your wife was helping to clean me up.

  “However you got rid of that man, I thank you. I just hope he doesn’t come back. Now, I need to find my brother and sister,” she concluded.

  “You don’t need to worry about that man, now,” Bishop responded. “I don’t think he’ll be coming back. Tanner and I will take you up the hill to your parent’s house and we’ll find your brother and sister. We can make room for all of you here at the house.”

  Tanner and Bishop went with Jessie in Tanner’s Jeep Cherokee. They found Tina and Jaime sitting on the front porch of their parent’s home and rushed to greet Jessie as she got out of the Jeep. Tears were shed and once Jessie had things under control she introduced her siblings to Bishop and Tanner. They were clean-cut looking kids with good manners; a rarity these days.