The Quest: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 6

by Darrell Maloney

  Scott found evidence that the Mayans were predicting massive solar storms on the sun around two hundred years or so after the last recorded such storms in 1820.

  And sure enough, almost two hundred years later, another round of such storms knocked out power around the world.

  Scott could be forgiven in assuming that the world was safe from a similar disaster for another two hundred years.

  And perhaps the Mayans could be forgiven as well.

  After all, it was amazing that they could predict solar storms at all, at a time when things such as telescopes didn’t exist.

  So the possibility that one massive solar storm might make it easier for similar storms to happen never occurred to them. And if it had, they likely wouldn’t have cared much.

  Through their hieroglyphics, they were able to warn future generations about the solar storm phenomenon. They’d done their part.

  The Mayans had been able to predict earthquakes as well, without the aid of modern technology. But they never left any warning of the destructive power of aftershocks, which frequently caused more damage to already-weakened structures than the quakes themselves.

  In the same way a massive earthquake can cause a fault line to be unstable and therefore more susceptible to aftershocks, a similar effect was happening on the earth’s sun.

  Trouble was brewing. And it threatened to wreak even more havoc on earth than the first solar storm had.

  Before the first EMPs bombarded the earth, there was a small subgroup of society who called themselves “preppers.”

  As their name implied, they were preparing themselves for life after a worldwide disaster.

  When the EMPs bombarded the earth and the world went black the preppers survived.

  But not even the preppers expected the sun to give them a one-two punch.

  -21-

  Tom awoke early, as was his nature.

  And his back hurt, from sleeping in a too-soft bed.

  He’d always hated sleeping in strange beds. He usually slept fitfully in them, as though his body somehow knew he didn’t belong there.

  But after several days on the road, sleeping on a bed roll and tiny air mattress, he had to admit. Even a stranger’s bed was a step up.

  He heard noises coming from the kitchen, and went to investigate.

  He found young Sara digging through the cupboards.

  “Good morning, Sunshine.”

  “Oh! Good morning, Tom. You scared me.”

  “Sorry. What are you looking for?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. I guess I was just curious, to see if they left any food behind. But I can’t find anything. Not even a crumb.”

  “Maybe that’s why they committed suicide. Maybe they were faced with starving to death slowly or ending it quickly.”

  “Maybe. But there was still food out there to scrounge, if they didn’t mind searching for it. And they could have grown their own crops, like a lot of other people are doing.”

  “Yeah, I guess. Maybe they just grew tired of having to work so hard for every meal. It kind of makes you realize how lucky we were, to survive comfortably in the compound instead of being down here. I mean, we all complained about having to plant and harvest the crops, and how it was such hard work. But at least we never had to wonder where our next meal would come from. Maybe they just got tired, is all.

  “Did you know them well?”

  “Who?”

  “The people your mom said could stay here after she shot Glen and left. The people who committed suicide in your living room. The people we’ve been talking about.”

  “No, not really. I remember Mom dragging me to one of her work functions one time, and meeting one of her work friends named Sami. I don’t know if it was the same Sami or not. If it was, she seemed nice. She was pregnant, as I recall.”

  “Maybe that’s why they gave up. Maybe they lost their kids in the plague, or when their house burned down. That could certainly make someone give up.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  Tom went to the young woman and held her.

  “Promise me something, punkin.”

  “Uh… okay. What?”

  “Promise me you’ll never contemplate suicide. No matter how bad it can get on this earth, you only get one chance at life. If you give in and end it, you never get another chance. And the bad times, no matter how terrible they are, always come to an end eventually.”

  “I know that now, Tom. In my darkest days, when Glen was climbing into my bed late at night and raping me, I thought it would be better to be dead. But then I thought of all the good things I had. My friends. And Jordan. And I somehow knew if I could just hang on a little bit longer, that things would get so much better.

  “Little did I know that it would take a worldwide catastrophe like the blackout to make my world tolerable again. But now I know that the world is basically a wonderful place, filled with joyous experiences and incredible people. Yes, there are some isolated and very evil things. But they’re the exception, not the rule.

  “And now that I’ve got my own family, and have looked into my son’s incredible eyes and seen all the potential and pure love there, I’m so glad I didn’t do something very stupid when I was younger. If I had killed myself over what Glen was doing to me, I not only would have robbed myself of an incredible future. I would have robbed my son of his own chance to live. And that just wouldn’t have been right.”

  “Don’t forget, you’d have robbed Jordan of the chance to marry the most incredible young woman I’ve ever met. And you’d have robbed me of the chance to meet you and get to know you.”

  Sara smiled the sweet smile that made everyone fall in love with her.

  “I’m glad those days of self-doubt are behind me now. And trust me, Tom. They’re gone forever.”

  “I’m glad, little lady. You’ve become a very big part of my life now, and if you were to leave I’d have a hole in my heart as big as Texas.”

  She hugged him and said, “Nope. That’ll never happen.”

  “Well then, it’s settled,” Tom said. “Now how about we quit burning daylight and get going on our mom hunt?”

  “Great idea, Tom. I knew I brought you along for a reason.”

  -22-

  They started their hunt at the most logical place, on the block where Sara once lived.

  Moon Valley Drive was typical of most other suburban streets in the sprawling city of San Antonio. Most of the once-proud houses were now abandoned and in varying stages of decay.

  The city was slowly working its way around to knock down the abandoned buildings, both to rid itself of the blight and to deprive marauders and thieves places to take refuge.

  They were hampered by a lack of manpower and of equipment, so they were moving at a snail’s pace, and hadn’t made it to Moon Valley Drive yet.

  Five of the homes on the block had been burned to the ground. Tom wondered if the fires were caused by vandalism, or were an effort by the survivors to get rid of the blight themselves.

  He hoped that wasn’t the case. In a city where the firemen were stretched as thin as the police force, he knew it was a risky business to set an empty house ablaze in the midst of occupied homes. One shift in the wind and the fire could quickly spread and get out of control. A whole neighborhood could burn to the ground in no time at all.

  Fire was a very effective, yet very dangerous, way of removing abandoned houses.

  They started with the house next door to Sara’s.

  All the windows had been broken by looters, and the front door was hanging pitifully by only one hinge. It was almost certainly abandoned.

  But they went through the motions anyway, in the off chance her next door neighbors were too emotionally attached to the house to move elsewhere.

  After knocking loudly several times, they gave up and moved on.

  The next house was in better shape. Its front yard had been dug up and the grass discarded. Seven rows of tall corn now grew on one side of a sidewalk
that divided the yard.

  Seven rows of bushy tomato plants covered the other half of the yard.

  A crude sign was nailed to the wall adjacent to the front door:

  NO MOOCHERS!

  IF YOU DON’T HAVE

  ANYTHING TO TRADE,

  KEEP MOVING.

  Sara looked at Tom apprehensively.

  “Should we knock?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Tom stepped to the door and rapped loudly on the doorframe.

  An old woman with a wary eye answered.

  When she saw Tom, she reached up to her face to brush a few stray hairs from upon it. Her face went from suspicious to friendly.

  Sara had to stifle a smile.

  “Well hello, handsome stranger. Are you here to trade?”

  “No, ma’am. We’re here for some information. We’re looking for a woman named Stacey, who used to live a couple of houses up from you. We’re wondering if you’ve seen her.”

  “Nope. I think she done kilt herself. The cops came and pulled two bodies from that house a few months back. Said it was a double suicide. Ain’t seen anyone else there since then.”

  “That wasn’t her, ma’am. It was some friends of hers. If she comes by would you tell her that her daughter is looking for her, and she should contact the Chief of Police?”

  Instead of agreeing to the request, the woman eyed Sara and turned suspicious again.

  “This young‘un… she yore wife?”

  “No. She’s Stacy’s daughter and my friend.”

  “You sure you don’t want to trade, mister? I’ve got some things around here that need fixin.’ It’ll take you a couple of days but I can pay you in corn and ‘maters.”

  “No, thank you, ma’am. We’d best be moving on. You be sure and give Stacy that message if you see her now.”

  They turned to leave. The woman huffed and went back into her house.

  As they walked away Tom remarked, “Boy, I hope everyone else is friendlier than she was.”

  Sara’s jaw dropped. She was amazed that Tom hadn’t seen the same things that she did.

  “Oh, she would have been very friendly to you, Tom, if you’d have let her. Didn’t you see the hunger in her eyes?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “No, I’m serious. I think I know what it is that she wanted you to fix for her, and I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with the house.”

  Then Sara smiled.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not that crazy about corn and tomatoes, Tom. I’d have pimped you out in a heartbeat. You’d better hope we don’t come across another lonely woman with strawberries growing in her yard. I’ll rent you out for a bushel an hour.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re too old to spank, young lady.”

  Sara laughed.

  “Why, Tom, you should be happy. I’m sure there are lots of men out there who would just love to be rented out for stud services.”

  “Yeah, well I ain’t no bull and I ain’t interested.”

  Sara continued to giggle until they got to the next house. Then their luck changed a bit.

  “Sure, I remember you. My son Toby, God rest his soul, had a class with you. Science, I think. He had a crush on you, and I told him he should ask you out, but he said you were a private person and kept mostly to yourself at school. I’d see you and your mom unloading groceries sometimes.”

  “Oh, my God. I’m sorry to hear about Toby. Was it the plague?”

  “No, it was in the early days of the blackout. He went out one night to get a case of water from the 7-Eleven and never came back. The police found his body a couple of days later. They said somebody probably shot him for the water. They were nice enough to bring his body back, and we buried him in the back yard.”

  Sara was unsure what else to say, so she repeated her words.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I saw your mom occasionally until about eight, maybe ten months ago. She came around sometimes to barter for food. Then one day she stopped coming. Never said where she was going. There was another couple staying at your place after that. Squatters, I guess. I haven’t seen them in a while, either.”

  “I see. Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Roman. You’ve been a great help.”

  “No problem, dearie. I hope you find her. It’s nice when a story has a happy ending every once in a while.”

  Then, as Sara and Tom were halfway to the next house, the woman called after them.

  “You know, you might try your old high school.”

  Sara stopped short and turned.

  “The high school? But why?”

  “I heard a rumor that a couple of hundred folks took refuge there. That was back when the marauders were coming through and shooting people at random. Folks banded together at the school for their mutual protection. Made the classrooms into apartments and posted armed guards at the doors and such.

  “I heard it works like a commune. They all share the workload and grow their own food and such. Maybe she went there. Or maybe somebody there knows where she went off to.”

  Tom whispered, “Bingo! A lead!”

  Sara called behind her, “Thanks again, Mrs. Roman.”

  -23-

  The last time Sara had walked the hallways of John Jay High School was over three years before, on the day of the blackout.

  Sara had been sitting in the band and orchestra room when the lights flickered and went out.

  The teacher had opened the fire doors at the back of the room to let in a bit more light, then told his young charges to sit quietly at their desks until the power was restored.

  It was through the open door that Sara saw her boyfriend Jordan hurrying to his car.

  She could tell by his demeanor that something was wrong. He would never skip school in the middle of a school day, power outage or not.

  She ran out the door after him and confronted him in the parking lot.

  That’s when he told her that the power was out for good. And that the world was now a changed and more dangerous place.

  The memory brought a stab of pain to Sara’s heart for a couple of reasons. First, because Jordan would have left her behind had she not seen him and gone after him.

  And second, that was the day Sara had lied to him for the very first time in their two year relationship.

  Jordan later apologized for almost leaving her behind, saying he was confident that her parents would come for her and protect her, and that he would have gotten in touch with her as soon as it was practical.

  Sara, in turn, apologized to him for lying. She’d begged to go with him, saying her parents were out of state and that she was terrified to be alone.

  Jordan didn’t find out until later that Sara saw the blackout as the perfect chance to run from an abusive family life.

  As Sara and Tom signed in at the main door and were referred by an armed guard to the attendant’s office, Sara looked around at the school she’d once loved.

  It was mostly the same. But at the same time somehow different.

  The lockers lining the hallways had been totally destroyed, their doors pried off and hauled off to God only knew where.

  She supposed it was done by vandals hoping to find bagged lunches or snacks in the abandoned lockers.

  In the main lobby of the building, a magnificent twelve foot high mustang, the school mascot, still reared up on his back legs.

  The bronze statue, painted pure white in Sara’s memory, was now a rainbow of colors.

  One of the old school’s new residents, a famous local graffiti artist, painted the horse from head to toe. His artwork was in essence a mural, depicting the horrors of the blackout and its aftermath. To depict the horrific early days of the crisis, the artist painted funeral pyres, stacks of bodies, and angry citizens.

  Then he painted scenes of hope and promise, depicted in flowing green crops of corn and wheat and dancing children.

  “You know,” Sara said, “At one time I would have been angry that
someone would deface the mighty John Jay mustang. But I have to admit, this is pretty. I think I like it better this way.”

  “We plan to leave it that way to educate future generations. Those who weren’t here for the actual event.”

  Sara and Tom turned to see a middle aged woman walking toward them.

  Sara recognized her.

  “Mrs. Avila! You survived!”

  The women hugged.

  “I thought that was you when I saw you walk in, Sara. It’s so nice to see you again. Is this your father?”

  Sara chuckled.

  “No, this is my friend Tom. Tom is the sheriff of Kerr County. Tom, this is my old principal, Mrs. Kathy Avila.”

  “I prefer former principal, dear.”

  “Oops. Sorry.”

  Avila shook Tom’s hand, then asked Sara, “So what brings you here? Do you want to join our little community, or are you just visiting to see how much the school has changed?”

  “Actually, we’re hoping to find information about my mom. We lost touch right after the blackout, and she’s out there somewhere looking for me. And we’re looking for her too.”

  “I see. Same last name as yours?”

  “No. Her last name is McAllister. Stacey McAllister. She’s thirty five now, blond hair. About a hundred and twenty pounds or so, the last time I saw her.”

  Avila thought for a moment.

  “Doesn’t sound familiar at all. Let me check our rolls, just to make sure.”

  Sara and Tom followed her back to her office, where she scanned three logbooks full of names.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We have no McAllisters at all. The only Stacey we have is Stacey Martinez, and she doesn’t fit the description. She’s pushing seventy.”

  Her voice changed to a conspiratory whisper.

  “But don’t tell her I said that. She wants everyone to believe she’s in her early fifties.”

  Sara was disappointed, but not overly so. She’d already taught herself to remain guarded and not to get her hopes up.

  “Thank you anyway, Mrs. Avila.”

  “Please, dear. The days of this being a high school are long gone now. So are your years as a student. You’re all grown up now. Please call me Kathy.”