by Bobby Akart
Jake sought out one of the boys stocking shelves. “I’ve gotta know.” He approached one of the young men and got their attention. “May I ask you a quick question?”
The young man wiped his hands off on his apron. The boxes had a thin layer of ash on them. “Yes, sir. What can I help you find?”
“Well, nothing, just yet. Your store is well stocked. Frankly, I expected it to be emptied because of, you know, the eruption.”
The boy laughed. “The store owner, my dad, is pretty smart. As soon as we got news that Yellowstone was erupting, he placed a reorder of all of our dry goods. He knew we’d have a run on the store and he was right. Custer County only has about four thousand people anyway, and most of those live closer to Idaho Falls than they do Challis, but the locals came in droves that first day. We ran out of most everything.”
“Now, you’re restocked.”
“Yes, sir. And it will probably be the last time the truck comes. The one out back quit running yesterday and the driver’s stuck here in town. Plus, when the banks closed down, my dad quit accepting credit cards and went to cash only. People didn’t have cash and they couldn’t get to their money, so now we are fully stocked with only a handful of customers.”
Jake smiled and thanked the young man. He walked back toward Ashby and then asked one last question. “Do you think I could use your phone? Our motor home is getting repaired and I need to check on it.”
“Sure, follow me.”
Jake placed a quick call to Brett at Salmon River Motors and requested the Bounder be delivered to the supermarket. Then he joined Ashby and talked about their shopping list.
“What did you find out?” asked Ashby as they began pushing their carts through the aisles.
“The owner restocked, and the truck arrived at the perfect time—for us. The shelves were wiped out early on, but he’d reordered from his jobber. By the time the truck arrived, the shoppers were either hunkered down or cash poor.”
“Well, we have over two grand to spend,” said Ashby proudly. “We can get even more tomorrow at the motel.”
“For sure. I know we have the ability to cook and a fairly small refrigerator, but I think we need to focus on canned goods, already prepared meals that require only hot water, and energy bars. You know, anything that is edible, somewhat nutritious, and doesn’t require electricity.”
Ashby stopped the cart and looked concerned. “Won’t the generator of the Bounder allow us to cook?”
“We can’t be certain that diesel will be available. Plus, we might lose power when we get to the Mad House. It’s in a remote location, and I’ve seen what the ash fallout can do to power lines. I’m surprised they haven’t fallen by the clinic already.”
“Mad House?” asked Ashby.
“Yeah, that’s what my mom used to call it. It’s located on the Mad River near a small town called Maple Creek, forty miles inland from Arcata and the ocean.”
“I can’t wait to hear more about it,” said Ashby.
As they shopped, they followed a basic premise—whatever they typically used in their daily life, they purchased times four. One item for each of them, and one as a spare.
They made their way through the aisles, focusing on canned meats like tuna, ham, roast beef, chicken, and Spam. They picked up a variety of canned fruits and vegetables that they could tolerate eating cold. Ashby picked up two manual can openers, one to use and a second for a backup.
Snacks included things like peanut butter, honey, and crackers. Breakfast meals consisted of Ashby’s favorite blueberry Pop-Tarts, meal replacement bars from Nature’s Valley, and cereal. Jake added several boxes of Carnation powdered milk that could be reconstituted with cool water.
Finally, they picked up hygiene items ranging from toilet paper to toothbrushes.
The last thing Jake threw into the cart were several jugs of meal replacement shakes and bottles of multivitamins. He commented to Ashby that the types of foods they purchased might not hit the daily requirements of vitamins and minerals their bodies needed. The multivitamins would cover most of those, and the meal replacement shakes gave them portability in case they lost their transportation.
The store had a small hardware and kitchen supplies section. Because a True Value hardware store was down the street, most of the previous shoppers had ignored some useful things, in Jake’s mind. He grabbed duct tape, a small tool kit, a portable Coleman camping grill, and a package of twenty-four lighters, among other things.
A twelve-pack of Blue Moon beer topped their overstuffed carts as they muscled their way to the checkout lanes. Before the grocer began the process, he confirmed they had cash to make their purchases.
The dad summoned his sons to help them check out and to bring empty boxes with them. Just under eight hundred dollars later, there were more than a dozen boxes of supplies stacked by the front door, ready for loading into the Bounder, which had just arrived.
After the mechanic gave Jake a brief tutorial on the modifications and use of the replacement parts, they headed back to the Holiday Lodge.
Chapter 40
Challis, Idaho
While Ashby showered, Jake organized the motor home and got it ready for travel. He pressed the buzzer several times to speak with the Hathaways, but they never responded. He’d hoped to purchase some linens for their beds in the Bounder. Jake gave up, assuming they didn’t want to be bothered, and made a mental note to try again tomorrow when they made another run on the ATM inside. In his conversations with the grocer during checkout, he lamented that the ATMs had been emptied within hours after the bank closed. The one at the motel was under lock and key, so to speak, because the Hathaways had closed down due to the ash fallout.
Jake packed every available storage space with their purchases, and then he retrieved their backpacks and reorganized them based upon the conditions. They were used by Jake for two purposes. One was for camping and hunting. The other was for hiking. His third, smaller backpack was stocked with medical supplies. He needed to redistribute their clothing, which was sparse, and the medical supplies to even out the weight.
Jake was comfortable unpacking the food into the cabinets of the motor home, but he wanted to keep the backpacks ready to grab on a moment’s notice of danger. There was a concern about the Bounder he hadn’t expressed to Ashby because the motor home was the perfect solution for transporting Dusty.
The Bounder was a rolling billboard that screamed rob me! As a moving, operating vehicle, it would be a target of criminals or desperate people anyway. At thirty-two feet in length, it was far from maneuverable, nor would it be easy to hide.
Jake hoped for the best as they prepared for their trip to his parents’ lake house. Despite the relative calm around Challis, under the circumstances, the threats from their fellow man would get worse as they approached populated areas. In the cities and larger towns, the supermarkets might not have had the forethought, and luck, of the grocer they’d met today. People would be desperate to feed their families. Jake knew he’d have to get Ashby and Dusty mentally prepared to shoot and possibly kill anyone who threatened them. He’d have to get prepared for that eventuality himself.
Ashby came out of the shower refreshed and put on a fresh set of clothes from her backpack that Jake had laid out. He took a shower and shaved with a disposable razor he’d purchased earlier. He had to wear the same pair of camouflage pants, but he did pick up a couple of tee shirts at the market. One was for him, and the other for Dusty, who always wore a tee shirt to reflect his mood.
The graphic was a takeoff of the popular I heart fill-in-the-desired-location design. In this case the location was, of course, Idaho. The heart image was replaced with an Idaho potato in the shape of a heart. Jake thought it would suit Dusty perfectly. He grabbed two, so they could wear them in solidarity.
While Idaho was the location where their helicopter had crashed and Rita had perished, it wasn’t necessarily the state’s fault. Yellowstone, nature’s greatest killer, was responsi
ble. The three of them had survived the wrath of the supervolcano, and Jake would always remember what had happened on that Idaho mountaintop.
Chapter 41
Challis, Idaho
“Love the shirt, Jake.” Ashby looked like a new woman. She was not much for makeup or making a fuss over her hair. Jake liked that about her. She had a natural beauty that had instantly attracted him to her when they met. That, plus she was feisty, something he apparently admired in a woman. Like a wild mustang, they needed to be tamed to an extent without breaking their spirit. He’d learned that lesson with Julie.
Jake held up a grocery bag. “I’ve got a care package for Dusty. A matching shirt. A clean pair of shorts, socks, and boxers. Hello Kitty was a little weird, I might add.”
Ashby smiled and took them out of the bag. “Those were Rita’s. Dusty can go commando for a while. He’ll be all right.”
Jake felt horrible for creating the awkward moment. “I’m sorry, Ashby. I didn’t even think, um.” He dropped his shoulders.
“No worries. What else do you have in the bag?”
Jake managed a smile. “Things that I’m pretty sure the Doc won’t approve of like Mello Yello, Twizzlers, and, of course, Cheetos!” Jake pulled the Cheetos bag out of the sack and shook it.
“He’ll love it, Jake. Let’s go see our buddy.”
They trudged through the ash, which had dissipated in the sky somewhat, allowing a faint glimmer of blue to peek through as the sun started to set over the western horizon. It had been a long day, and despite the drama coming down the mountain, Jake and Ashby had a second wind thanks to their shopping excursion.
They entered the clinic and found the reception desk empty. The waiting room was full of all new faces, who were huddled around the television, a scene reminiscent of hours earlier. Jake nudged Ashby toward the coffee maker, and while he fixed them both a cup, she watched the continuing news coverage.
The graphic on the screen read Is This Earth’s Greatest Killer? Ashby mumbled aloud, “Yes, it is.”
The talking heads from the USGS included the director she’d met on the conference call with the president. He was laying out the various scenarios as Yellowstone’s eruptive activity continued. Jake joined her, and she took the coffee from him. They took a moment to listen.
“It’s been said many times that studying the volcanic system beneath the Yellowstone Caldera was partly detective work. The pressure upon scientists has always been the same—when will it erupt?
“We undertake painstaking analysis, studying eruptions from around the world, both past and present. A hypothesis is developed; computer models are formed and then tweaked according to updated data. None of this gives us the ability to predict precise dates for something as devastating as the Yellowstone eruption.”
The CNN host Don Lemon then asked a follow-up question. “Are you able to tell us when it will be over?”
The director of the USGS grimaced and looked into the camera. “Again, we base our assumptions upon past investigations. Our current models indicate the eruptions will stop in three to four days.”
Lemon was astonished. “Three or four days? Can our planet survive it?”
The director visibly rolled his eyes. “That’s a little overdramatic, Don. The planet is going to survive the super eruption of Yellowstone. The question is whether man will.”
Ashby chuckled and led Jake away from the television. “That last statement was definitely overdramatic. Let’s go.”
They made their way down the hallway past several closed doors with charts missing from their plastic holders. Business was brisk at the clinic.
When they reached Dusty’s room, Jake held his finger up to his lips to remind them both to be calm and quiet so they didn’t disturb him. Just because they were feeling upbeat didn’t necessarily mean Dusty was up for a party.
Jake stepped aside and allowed Ashby to enter. She pushed the door slightly ajar and then quickly moved in to the room.
It was empty.
Jake followed her in and she abruptly turned around, bumping into his chest.
“They’ve moved him again. Let’s go find him.”
They exited the room and glanced toward the reception desk, which was still unmanned. The clinic was a simple rectangular building with a long single hallway. They looked up and down and saw that all of the doors were closed. They knew which one was for emergencies, and the one across the hall was for diagnostics. The first door by the reception desk belonged to the doctor for his office. That left six options.
“Ashby, maybe we shouldn’t barge in and interrupt their treatment of other patients.”
Ashby ignored his suggestion. “I wanna see him now. Should we start at the end?”
“Ashby, the doc will get mad.”
“Nah, we’ll just say, oops, apologize, and try another one.”
Jake laughed. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
“Yup.”
They started at the end of the hallway next to the diagnostics room. Ashby slowly pushed open the door and saw grandma sitting in a chair next to the bed. She seemed distraught. Ashby quickly backed out of the room.
“No, it was the nice elderly couple. Jake, I think something might have happened to the old lady’s husband. She’d been crying.”
Jake shook his head and furrowed his brow. “Ashby, let’s just go wait—”
His sentence was cut off as a door down the hallway opened and one of the nurse practitioners exited. Ashby immediately approached her.
“Excuse me,” she began, pointing back toward Dusty’s room. “Our friend was moved. Dusty Holder? Can you point us in the right direction?”
The nurse put the chart in the door holder and approached Ashby. “We’ve been trying to reach you at the Holiday Lodge, but nobody answered. We even sent someone over to look for you.”
The blood rushed out of Ashby’s face as she became concerned. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Um, you’ll need to speak to the doctor,” replied the nurse. She took Ashby by the arm and attempted to lead her to the doctor’s office.
Ashby recoiled and pulled away. “No!” she yelled as she began to frantically look around the clinic. She tried to push past Jake and force her way into another examination room, but he restrained her. “Where is he?”
“Ma’am, please. I’ll get the doctor for you.”
Dr. Peterkin emerged from one of the rooms in response to the commotion. He had a dour look on his face. He approached them with his arms spread wide as if he were trying to herd them into a corral. “Dr. Donovan, Mr. Wheeler, please come into my office.”
Ashby shut down. She dropped her coffee on the floor. She immediately wrapped her arms around her body and clenched her sides as she began to cry. Jake tried to comfort her, but she twisted out of his arms.
“But where is he?” She was sobbing now.
The nurse opened the office door and motioned for them to enter. Several people had abandoned the television to watch the drama unfold in real time. The nurse, to her credit, barked at them to give Jake and Ashby some privacy.
The doctor pleaded with Ashby. “Please, Dr. Donovan, let’s go inside.”
Reluctantly, Ashby made her way into the office and slowly lowered herself into a chair. She sat on the edge of the seat and followed the doctor with hopeful eyes as he walked around his desk to sit.
He uttered those dreaded words that no loved one wants to hear. The words that no physician wants to say to the faces filled with apprehension and hope.
“I’m sorry.”
Chapter 42
Challis, Idaho
“Mr. Holder passed away a couple of hours ago.” Dr. Peterkin undertook to explain the sudden turn of events that had caused Dusty to go into respiratory arrest. He spoke from a medical perspective about Dusty’s initial indications of coughing up mucous, shortness of breath, and then sudden fits of rapid breathing. He and the nurses continued to supplement his oxygen, pushed antibiotics through his
intravenous drip, and other noninvasive medical techniques to help him breathe.
As he explained what happened, Ashby slid back into the chair, and her mind closed off the outside world. Only bits and pieces of Dr. Peterkin’s thorough explanation found its way through her protective shell.
“The most hazardous eruptions are those that generate fine-grained ash content of silica. The larger particles lodge in the upper airways, but it’s the smaller, very fine particles that the naked eye cannot see that are the most dangerous. They easily pass through the throat, past the bronchus and into the thoracic region of the lungs. Once these tiny particles reach alveoli, the damage begins immediately.”
Ashby had experienced psychological trauma in her life, especially when she saw her parents perish at the hands of Mount Pinatubo. She was never able to say goodbye to them because their bodies were incinerated by the flames. She was a young, seven-year-old girl, alone in the world.
“… Mr. Holder’s situation was complicated by the internal injuries to his lungs from the crash impact …”
After Rita’s death, Ashby suppressed her grief, opting instead to focus on the living—Dusty. She cared for him, risked her life in the bat cave to find him water, and summoned extraordinary strength to help carry his body nearly thirty miles down a mountain to this clinic.
Her job was done, so she had thought. A sense of relief had overcome her earlier that day as she assumed that Dusty would automatically recover once he was in the hands of medical professionals.
Now, the doctor was explaining why Dusty was dead.
“His respiratory system had been weakened, which allowed the inhaled foreign substances, however minute, to have a damaging—”
Ashby knew why and didn’t need his medical explanation. She could provide the reasons better than he could. She’d spent her life studying the respiratory effects of volcanic fallout on people’s bodies. What she couldn’t fathom was how God could allow two more people to be ripped from her life by the same killer—the Earth.