The Journal
Book Five
Fault Line
Deborah D. Moore
A PERMUTED PRESS BOOK
Published at Smashwords
ISBN: 978-1-68261-116-6
ISBN (eBook): 978-1-68261-117-3
FAULT LINE
The Journal Book 5
© 2016 by Deborah D. Moore
All Rights Reserved
Cover art by Christian Bentulan
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.
Permuted Press
109 International Drive, Suite 300
Franklin, TN 37067
http://permutedpress.com
Also in The Journal series:
Also in The Journal series:
Cracked Earth (Book One)
Ash Fall (Book Two)
Crimson Skies (Book Three)
Raging Tide (Book Four)
Also by Deborah D. Moore
A Prepper’s Cookbook: Twenty Years of Cooking in the woods,
Coming in Summer 2016!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I must thank my editor, Felicia Sullivan first. She guided me through the change of style I used in this book, and hopefully I learned enough to make it easier on her when she got the final copy.
I could never forget to thank my three beta readers: my friend Sherry F. (maybe someday we can actually meet); my brother Tom for his somewhat slanted view on life which matches my own; and my son Eric, for his youthful view of what could unfold and for keeping me straight on all things military - and for getting me into an NG compound so I could climb inside a real Humvee!
My readers and fans are the best! They have supported and encouraged me to keep going when I was ready to end the series and I thank you for that.
And my final thank you is to my publisher, Michael Wilson at Permuted Press, for his faith in me.
I’ve had many ask about the poems at the beginning of each book. These are all original poems, written by me, throughout my life, some going back fifty years. They have all been written to mark something important in my life, and have little or no relevance to the story that follows.
We’ve grown, you and I,
In different ways,
On different days,
Isn’t it lonely together?
Deborah D. Moore
This is for everyone who wanted to know what happened to John.
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
“I love you too, Daddy, and I promise to vote in the presidential election on Tuesday before I go to the seminar,” Christine Tiggs lied, disconnecting the phone call from her father, John.
She had no intention of voting, she trusted the government just like it was. She certainly didn’t mind the weekly calls from her dad, and it wasn’t because he paid most of her bills. She truly loved him and worried about him. He worked for a mining employment group, Green Way, and was sent all over the world. Christine worried because the crew he was foreman of was the initial force in creating a working mine. What he did was dangerous and more than once he had been trapped in a cave-in. Currently, he was working in a remote portion of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. A quick internet search told her all of the U.P. was remote, with nothing but trees and more trees. How could people live like that? She shuddered.
She was also worried what he would say when he found out her new job wasn’t quite what she’d led him to believe. She’d coasted the last six months on unemployment, enjoying the summer off and having a good time. Those checks had run out though, and she had to find a job.
John had put Christine through school because he felt that’s what parents did: prepare their children for the real world with a good education. She had a degree in public health, then took a semester of pre-med, finally deciding on a career as a dental hygienist, and after graduation she had gotten a nice job at a clinic in Fort Wayne, Indiana. After two years there, they cut back the staff and she got laid-off. It was a good thing she was single, since the only other job she could find after those six months was in Greenwood, near Indianapolis, and she had to move. What Christine didn’t tell her dad was that the new job, though in a dental office, was only filling out insurance papers at half her previous salary. She had hopes that it was just a stepping stone for her. The good part of being in Greenwood was she was closer to her grandmother in Louisville, Kentucky.
After staring at the phone another moment, she frowned and went to her desk to pack her briefcase to be ready for the morning. The seminar was actually a training session held by one of the major dental insurance companies on how to fill out the submission forms. It was sure to be a boring day, and at least the dental office was picking up the tab. The training was near the insurance company’s home office in Granite City, east of St. Louis. It was a five hour drive, plus the following day-long training, requiring Christine to spend two nights. She’d drive there on Monday, have classes on Tuesday, drive home on Wednesday. Her heart lightened thinking she could get some shopping done in the larger city, on her dad’s credit card.
“Hey, Christine,” Lois Merkel said when Christine answered her phone. “What time are you picking me up tomorrow?”
“Oh, hi. How about around ten? It’s a long drive and we can’t get there too early or the hotel won’t let us register,” she replied. The dental office was sending two of them for training and insisted they share a room to keep the expenses down. Christine wasn’t sure about spending that much time with her pudgy co-worker. Lois was okay, although her short, spiky, dyed orange hair and all the tattoos gave Christine the creeps. She ran her fingers through her recently cut blonde hair. She felt the shorter cut made her look more sophisticated, although the short, soft waves would take some getting used to.
***
Christine stopped her silvery blue PT Cruiser when the hotel came into view. The new car had been a birthday
present from her dad.
“Something wrong?” Lois asked.
“No, the GPS says this is right place. It’s just a surprise, that’s all.” Christine put the car back in gear and headed for the parking lot. The large four-story building sat in the center of a bulldozed block and lacked landscaping. The surrounding area looked less than appealing with rundown apartment buildings and shabby storefronts. Across the busy street was the evidence of a few buildings being constructed, and beyond that were more rundown buildings of questionable use. They were at the edge of the city on a main highway and Christine couldn’t see a mall anywhere.
***
“This looks like a nice place,” Lois commented, turning a circle in the lobby of the hotel. The vaulted ceilings bespoke of opulence with the high recessed lighting that gave a soft glow to the peaches and cream décor and fake greenery. Her heavy overnight bag dragged on her shoulder and off-balanced her as she turned back to the desk.
Christine took a deep, steadying breath and smiled tightly at the reception clerk. The five hour drive had been nerve wracking: Lois never stopped talking. She signed the register and took the two key cards, handing one to her co-worker.
“Our room is on the third floor and the conference room is on the second,” Christine announced as they made their way to the elevator, glancing at the brochure and floor plan she was given. “Pool and exercise room is on the main level and so is the bar/restaurant.”
“Great! I sure could use a beer!” Lois said gleefully.
“Yeah, I could use a drink myself,” Christine muttered.
***
The frozen strawberry margarita was just what Christine needed to deal with Lois’ non-stop chatter. After her second beer though, Lois quieted down a bit.
“Why don’t we go shopping?” Christine suggested. “The desk clerk said there’s a nice shopping mall only six blocks away. We can take their shuttle or walk.”
“Walk? I vote for the shuttle.” Lois grinned. “I don’t want to lose my buzz by getting some exercise.”
Christine nodded in agreement once she remembered what the surrounding neighborhood looked like. Walking six blocks was sure to take them through some questionable, maybe even dangerous, areas.
***
The mall ended up being a small two-story structure with only a few dozen stores, explaining why Christine couldn’t see it from the hotel. At least the stores were top-notch and brand names.
“Aren’t these leggings adorable?” Lois exclaimed, picking up the snug, hot pink, sequined pants.
“And they’re the latest thing going,” Christine said. She had to admit they really were cute and she was all for staying in style. “I think I’ll get black, the green, and those deep blue ones. Now I need some matching tops.” She set her selections on the sales counter to go look at the long sweaters, and didn’t notice Lois slide the pink ones under the pile.
After adding a couple of tops to layer over some new camisoles, and two sweaters, Christine handed over her dad’s credit card.
Christine was now feeling the high she always got when she went on a mindless shopping spree at her father’s expense. He never said a word to her, he just paid the bill.
***
“Those new boots are going to look great with the leggings,” Lois said, sipping another beer in the food court.
“Probably a bit of a splurge on my part,” Christine said, thinking of the impractical knee high, high heeled boots in the brown soft suede leather. “I really do need those walking shoes though. We’re on our feet all day at the office, and my poor tootsies just ache by five o’clock.” Christine now had several packages piled on the extra chairs at their table. A little bit of guilt crept into her at the two hundred dollars she’d spent at the shoe store and justified it by knowing the walking shoes were for work. Another sip of her icy drink tamped the remaining guilt down.
“I’m getting hungry,” Lois said, “how about you?” She looked around at the different vendors available.
“I could eat, but let’s go back and try the hotel restaurant. That way it goes on the clinic’s tab,” Christine said, knowing somehow Lois would get her to pay for both dinners if they stayed there.
***
“Typical bar food,” Lois grumbled. “We should have had the sushi at the food court.”
“I doubt that would have been very good, and I wouldn’t have trusted it,” Christine responded. “Besides, what’s wrong with that chicken parmesan? It looks really good.” Lois shrugged and gulped down some of the red wine they had ordered.
“Your shrimp teriyaki looks better. Can I have a bite?” Lois asked, spearing the last piece of chicken on her plate and plopping it in her mouth.
“No, we will still have dinner here tomorrow night so you can order it then,” Christine said and feeling a bit irritated, she poured the rest of the bottle of wine into her own glass. Lois was definitely getting on her nerves.
CHAPTER TWO
Tuesday, November 6
At eight forty-five AM, Christine pushed open the conference room door. She could smell the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sweetness of the donuts being offered. She dropped her purse and briefcase on one of the tables near the front of the room and headed for the coffee pot, hoping it would help her hangover. Lois was still upstairs, sleeping.
Sipping the hot black brew, Christine picked up her preprinted name badge and scanned the room from behind the steaming cup before sitting down by her stuff. There must be at least thirty people here, she thought, noticing the cute guy and the geeky one. Not a surprise that this meeting was attended by mostly females; guys just didn’t do office work and she envied them, she hated paperwork.
To pass the time, she read the brochure from the front desk. Apparently the hotel was still under construction with the fourth floor incomplete. The flyer showed a taller building and luscious landscaping with wandering paths, waterfall pools, and benches. In another year it would be really nice.
The class started promptly at nine o’clock with the usual introductions around the room. At nine-fifteen, Lois strolled in, going straight to the food table. She spiked a cup of coffee with three sugars and two creamers, picked up three donuts, and ignored her name badge, which was the only one left on the registration table.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” she whispered to Christine, sitting down beside her.
“I tried.”
***
The speaker droned on and on for two hours, discussing everything that was already in the handout while flipping through the Power Point that showed on the large screen at the front of the room. Christine took a few notes before noticing no one else was. Her first assessment was right: it was a boring class, and everything was explained in the neatly stapled stack of papers in front of her.
“Okay, let’s take a fifteen minute break,” the speaker announced. “We have one more hour to go on this morning session, and then we’ll break for a one hour lunch, which will be a sandwich buffet downstairs in the Coral Room adjacent to the restaurant.”
“I hope he doesn’t mind if I have a beer with that sandwich,” Lois said. She stood, stretching her back and exposing the roll of pink flesh that bulged over her new hot pink pants.
***
“This buffet is actually good,” Lois commented to Christine. “Maybe because I can make my sandwich the way I like it.” Christine looked over her shoulder to see Lois’ plate piled with macaroni salad, chips, and an over-stuffed sandwich roll, thinking it was no small wonder the girl was so overweight. Christine herself watched what she ate to maintain a trim figure.
She waited until she saw Lois head to the bar with her plate, then ducked out to take her lunch back upstairs for some quiet reading.
Once in the conference room, Christine laid a couple of opened paper napkins on the table to keep her place clean and set her plate down. After retrieving a bottle of water from the long refreshment table, she got out her latest romance novel from the briefcas
e and settled in to read. A few minutes later, others joined her, sitting individually around the room. They obviously needed quiet time too, and that was just fine since she was in no mood to carry on idle conversation.
***
“What was that?” an older woman sitting in the back asked. Alarm laced her frightened voice.
Christine had felt a mild vibration, as if a big truck had driven by. A big truck wouldn’t have been able to rock the four-story hotel though. Another, stronger movement shook the building and she looked around at the others in the room. Everyone had stopped reading or eating and were gazing about.
“Those cars are skidding all over the road!” Jerry, the geeky guy said, looking out the window, just as the sound of a car crash echoed through the room. Christine moved to the windows in time to see the pavement break and ripple.
“It’s an earthquake!” she tried to yell, but her voice came out hushed and squeaky. The building shook violently, causing everyone standing to fall, and the overhead projection screen crashed to the floor. The geeky guy held onto the sill to keep his balance and was rewarded by the window shattering in his face. A large knife of glass protruding from his neck effectively cut off his scream. He slumped to the floor in slow motion, his eyes wide with shock. Christine looked on in disbelief, frozen in terror by the sight of blood gushing from the wound, blood that was now spreading toward where she sat on the floor under the broken windows. She scooted away from the crimson puddle in horror.
The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) Page 1