“Black River Urgent Care... Doctor Jessie Stone,” Jessie said.
“Ah, that Jessie Stone. I have heard nothing but good about you... Had heard,” he corrected. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry, doctor. Rough morning.”
“No harm, and it is just Jessie,” Jessie told him.
“Rough for everybody.” Frank opinioned. He lifted his eyes and scanned the area. Several groups stood alone talking. None seeming to want to merge with the others. He was a stranger so he knew no one here, but it seemed odd to him.
“Seems odd to you that we're all standing apart, doesn't it?” Gary asked.
“You read my thoughts exactly,” Frank agreed.
“Military town,” Gary answered. “Thousands of people, but the locals are just a small population. You end up with thousands of people constantly moving through the area. Support people, troops, other military, families: Hardly anyone knows anyone, not really... So I gather there are some trust issues. With the locals it is probably aimed at the military or anyone military. With the military it's just being an outsider.” The silence held for a second and then Gary continued his previous conversation.
“That river can't hold a lot of excess water. Most of you know that from the spring floods we get every year,” he turned his attention back to Frank. “How'd you happen to end up in the river?” he asked.
"That's a good and fair question," Frank answered. "I was in the tunnel..."
"Military tunnel?" Gary interrupted.
"Right, that one," Frank answered. "Where they have, or had, I should say, all the work going on."
Several people nodded their heads.
"Well, as I said, I was in the tunnel last night, when the whole damn thing started shaking. I came damn close to ramming into the rear of one of those big tractor-trailer trucks."
They had all seen the tractor-trailer trucks that seemed to be constantly running back and forth from the city to the base.
"Well, anyway, to make a long story short, I ended up in one of those side tunnels, and had to walk all night to get out. When I finally did come out, I was over the top of the river on one of those rock ledges. I think I was lucky to get out when I did too, as the water was up almost to the top of the ledge, almost to the opening to the tunnel I came out of," he paused momentarily, and shuddered as he recalled the journey through the dark tunnel.
“I guess I'm lucky to be alive, really: That's about it. I figured I didn't have hell-of-a-lot-of choice, so I climbed up from the river. I managed to get to a spot where the bank was flat rock and pulled myself out. Met Jessie here and we decided to try downtown... She knows a little of what happened from TV... We saw you guys here and decided to come over. See if maybe you knew what was going on,” he finished quietly.
A few of the people stepped forward and introduced themselves.
"So," Gary said, "care to join into this discussion, Frank, Jessie?"
Frank nodded his head as he answered. "Yes, but can you tell us any more about what happened? Do you know?" Frank looked hopefully at the small group.
Jessie nodded too.
Several in the small group told what they knew, or suspected from what they had been through since the previous evening, as they listened.
"So?" Gary said, once everyone had finished, trying to break the silence that had descended. He let the question hang, unsure of what to say next. Before he could think of something else to say, Frank finally spoke.
"I'm worried about my kids, I can't help but wonder if they're okay," as he spoke he gazed around at the destroyed city square. "I guess if it's the way you say it is, the first thing we ought to do is get the hell away from here. It isn't safe here."
With that the discussion went to where they should go, and what they should do once they got there.
Gary steered the discussion back around to something he had touched on earlier, before they had talked for long.
“The other consideration is the temperature, have you given much thought to that?”
Frank replied. “It could be from the air-blast,” he said. “I'm a... well, I used to be a reporter, and I don't want to say this to scare anyone, but I've done research on a couple of different articles dealing with nuclear warfare, and there are a lot of different theories, but only two main ones that are generally accepted, and both of those theories can translate directly to a meteor hit, or, even worse in some ways, an air blast... Near miss...” He paused looking at Gary, and Gary nodded for him to continue. “The first one is the Nuclear Winter theory. By the looks of things I guess we can pretty much discard that one. If there were something to worry about in that direction, we would already know it. That theory predicts that the sun will be blocked out, and as a result the earth will cool down, and so on, and so on. Of course I'm not a scientist, but I really do believe that theory is out, or it's down the road somewhere. A future possibility we'll have to deal with.”
“I agree,” Gary said, as Frank paused, “What's the other theory?”
“Well the other theory, the radical one I suppose you could call it, proposes that if a hit were of sufficient force, it might be able to tip the Earth's axis. Exactly the same way an actual nuclear blast of sufficient force could,” he paused and looked to Gary for help: When none came he continued speaking.
"Well, as I was saying, the theory proposes that the poles would be displaced, relocated, I guess, because the Earth's magnetic field will have been changed from the force of the blast," he paused again, clearly uncomfortable. "The theory, and remember it's only that, supposes that because of the shift the polar ice caps will melt over time, and re-form at the new poles."
"So in other words," Jessie interjected, "we may not be in a northern climate anymore?"
"Possible," Gary said, "maybe even likely. It would explain the warm wind out of the north. Either way, it brings us full circle," he said, as he paused and stared at the small assembled group of people. "We need to decide where to go, or even if there is a place to go."
“He's right,” a young guy said. “Mike Collins,” he said as he offered Frank his hand. Mike said, "We do need to make some decisions," he paused for a moment and then continued. "We were thinking of heading up Maple street to the Superette, get something to eat, and finish this discussion there."
Frank nodded. He looked at Jessie and then looked away. “I can't speak for both of us, but I have to beg off. I want to get moving. Find a way to get back to Seattle and my kids... The rest of what brought me here is dead... A waste of time...” He lifted his eyes to the river and then brought them back to the surrounding people. “I Wish I hadn't come, in fact, and I just want to get back.” He waited, but the silence held. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “So, thanks, but no thanks. I'm going to find a car and make my way out of here.”
“Won't start,” a man in the crowd said. He stepped forward. “Bob Dove.” He shook Franks offered hand. “At least what I tried... Maybe an older one... No electronic brain.”
“Then that's what I'll try,” Frank agreed. His eyes fell on Jessie as he finished.
“Like to go with you, I guess,” Gary said.
“Me too,” Jessie agreed.
Mike nodded, and offered his hand once more. “We'll be going, I guess. Maybe we'll meet up again, Frank.”
“Maybe,” Frank agreed. Mike Collin's small group left the disquieting lake and began the walk out Maple street. They watched in silence until they were mere specks.
“I'm no leader, I can't promise you that,” Frank said.
“I don't need a leader,” Jessie said softly.
Gary only met his eyes and nodded slightly. A few minutes later they left the destruction of the downtown area, making their way towards the outskirts of the city and the many car lots that were there.
Jeremiah Edison
"Well, Jeremiah, what do you think?" the figure beside him asked.
Jeremiah and Maggie were walking through a field of tall grass somewhere in Oklahoma. The figure, tha
t Jeremiah perceived as a man who resembled his father, and Maggie perceived as an older woman who resembled her long dead mother, walked beside them through the tall grass.
The air was warm. A light breeze touched the tops of the grass as it moved around them and through the field.
"I need to tell you of something that will soon come to pass," the figure said, he paused briefly. "Do you accept me as God?” The figure looked from one to the other as it asked the question.
"Absolutely," Jeremiah said, almost at the same time that Maggie did. "Why? What else would you be?" Jeremiah asked, with a trace of fear in his voice.
"Jeremiah, my question was not meant to alarm you. Only to remind you of what I have shown you. Do you remember the man that was brought before me from the pit?"
"Why of course, Lord," Jeremiah replied. "It was Satan himself. Terrible," Jeremiah said as he shook his head. "That thing was Satan, wasn't it, Lord?"
"Well, he has other names, Jeremiah, but for you that is who he was. He is evil never doubt that, but he can come in many shapes, many forms. The man-creature you saw was how he chose to reveal himself to you, but you must be careful, he can take any shape, human; animal, and some you would not be able to look upon. Do you understand?"
"Not completely, Lord, but if you're telling me avoid him, you needn't worry. I don't want nothin' to do with him. He scares me, to be honest, Lord. Is that a bad thing?"
"No, Jeremiah that is not a bad thing, in fact it is a good thing. The reason I reminded you, is not to set your heart to worry."
Jeremiah looked over at Maggie. They had apparently stopped at some point in the conversation, he realized, and Maggie was sitting on a large boulder, looking out over the field, seemingly unaware of their conversation.
"Do not be concerned," the older man beside him said. "She is still walking beside me through the field. She needs to be told of the things that will soon come to pass as you do. She is well. Satan does not want that to be so, but the stars are not his to hold. Neither the Earth nor any of which you know, Jeremiah. They are mine. They and all which are contained within them, and I love them. Do you wonder where a lie is born? Or where it came from?"
"Well... of course, Lord, from Satan, in the garden," Jeremiah said, and continued. "Course he was a serpent, and was made to crawl on his belly fer it, right?"
"Yes, Jeremiah, but I mean the first, the beginning of the lie," the older man said.
"I don't get it, Lord," Jeremiah replied and wrinkled his brow before he continued. "He was sin, wasn't he, and all sin came from him, right?"
"Only after a fashion..." the older man said. He paused before he continued. “Deceit is mine as well. It is a thing that was necessary to have. What He did was to embrace it and call it his own. But it was I who allowed it to be embraced. I knew that it would be as such. I knew, as well, that there would be others who would embrace it, but it was still a necessary thing."
The older man paused as if in thought, and then continued.
"If you accept me as your God and as the creator of all that is and is to come, then you must accept the lie as mine as well. Do you understand, Jeremiah?"
"I can't say as I ever looked at it quite that way," Jeremiah said, and then continued, "but yes, I do, Lord."
"I knew that you would see, Jeremiah." The older man said.
"It is not my wish to allow him dominion over this world or any other. While it is true that I told him I would abide him for three score, the speaking of those words did not in themselves make a truth..."
"...He has now a child which he has taken from among my own people. He believes the child is his, to do with as he pleases, and it pleases him to place him high above the world and all people. To rule them, Jeremiah, to be his son, and to sit at his side on my throne, as a God."
"He dreams of greatness, but he is small and pitiful. And he believes the child will be great and powerful, for that is the lie. He has deceived himself in his belief that it was He that created evil... For even evil is mine," he paused. "Is it clear to you, Jeremiah?"
The kindly, older man turned his eyes to Jeremiah.
"Yes, Lord, it is. But if you didn't intend to allow him to rule the Earth why did you turn him loose?"
"Choice, Jeremiah. My people must be free to choose the path they wish to follow. Even him, your Satan. The path that he has chosen is evil, just as the ones he has called to him have chosen the same path. Your choice was to follow the path of truth, was it not?"
"Yes, Lord, it was," Jeremiah replied.
"His, and those that surround him, had the same choice to make. They chose the path of evil. It is that simple, Jeremiah. He believes he has three score to prepare for the battle, but I have used his own device against him. That is the lie. I will not allow the time he thinks he has." The older man paused before continuing.
"The battle will come soon, but the outcome is not assured. The outcome depends upon the path of truth. I can only supply it. I will not suffer any to tread it unless it is their choice."
"Michael is preparing for the Great Battle," he continued. "He has assembled those who have traveled the path of truth for the fight, but Michael will not lead in this world, he is unable. It is a circumstance I do not wish, yet one I have created."
Jeremiah looked at him with confusion in his eyes.
"My words are not meant to confuse, only to make you aware of a need. Someone must lead, Jeremiah. Someone must lead who has no doubt. You are my child, Jeremiah, yet it is you I would ask to lead."
Jeremiah opened his eye's wide, as he spoke.
"But I can't, Lord; I mean I will, but...How? I'm a man, Lord; I ain't even an Angel, who would listen to me? I ain't sure if I'd know how to fight, or even who, or where... Who would follow me?"
"Jeremiah," the older man said gently. "It matters not at all that you are only a man, and you will have little use of any army, or any angel. You will only need your heart and what it contains. That and nothing more. The armies are not upon the lands of the Earth, they are only within the spirit of the people. The evil one has his army unto himself, but only in spirit as well. They draw no breath, as you do. He may convince them that they do, but I assure you they do not. He draws no breath himself, though he believes that he breaths. He is insubstantial, Jeremiah. He is a means to an end and nothing more. Nevertheless, he will find those that still draw breath, to fight his battles upon the land, as you yourself will find those who would oppose him. He will know of you, and he will become aware of the lie. I wish him to know, I do not wish him to succeed however. I would wish that he had stayed within the pit, but some wished for his release and the choice must be allowed. It is a promise to all that I love, that they may have a choice. And many wish to follow his path, so it must be allowed for the sake of the promise, Jeremiah."
"But still, Lord, who will follow me?" Jeremiah asked.
"Did not many follow others? Who were also men?" the older man asked.
"But, Lord," Jeremiah said, "they were your children."
"Are you any less my son, Jeremiah? Any less my own child?" the older man questioned as he took Jeremiah's hand into his own and continued to speak. "Are you any less worthy to be my son? No, Jeremiah, you are not unworthy. You are my son, as Maggie is my daughter, as Adam and Eve were also my children, and as even the one you think of as Satan is my own child. All are my children, Jeremiah, the good as well as the bad. They all came from me and they shall all return to me in the end. It is my desire that you lead. That you bring the remainder of my children who wish to be with me to me. They will need to make the choice. Some have already made it, although they do not believe they have. Will you, Jeremiah?"
"I'll go, Lord, I can't say that I'll go without some fear though. I ain't afraid of dying, but I'm afraid of failing you, Lord," Jeremiah lowered his head into his hands, and rubbed his temples. "I just think that you could do a whole lot better, Lord, is all. But if I'm it, I'll go, and I'll do the best I kin." Jeremiah finished speaking, and raise
d his eyes to the older man beside him.
"Jeremiah...You are the best. There are none that would be better, or could be. You must remember that I made you. Everything I make is the best it can be. Nothing is imperfect, even the evil one you call Satan." the older man stared deeply into Jeremiah's eyes before he continued. "He will, of course, try to kill you. You have life now, and will always have it, but he will try to kill your body."
"I kind'a figured that, Lord...Will he?"
"Jeremiah, it is not a thing that you need to concern yourself with. Do you think you can be killed? Has not your body been killed before, and yet you still live, and draw breath? Do you think he can do more to you?"
Jeremiah shook his head, as he spoke. "I'm not afraid of death, Lord. I can't rightly say I want to die either, but if it happens, I kin get through it, Lord. I kin still pray to you, can't I?"
"Of course, Jeremiah," the older man said. "I will go with you as I will also ride with Michael to defeat the armies of evil. I do not wish to speak with words that confuse you, Jeremiah. I will be there if you need me. Do not doubt that."
"Will Maggie be with me, Lord?" Jeremiah asked.
"She will be with me, Jeremiah, and I shall be with you. We will await your return. Come, it grows late."
Jeremiah looked towards the sky, and saw that it was true, the light blue of the sky had phased to a deep indigo as they had talked. Maggie still sat upon the rock. Tears streaked her face as she stared into the setting sun.
"Go to her, Jeremiah," the older man said, "she waits for you. There is time for you, and you will draw strength from her. I shall leave for a time, and then return to take you to begin your journey."
Jeremiah turned his eyes back to the older man, but he was no longer there. He walked towards Maggie, lifted her from the rock, and held her.
"I understand, Jeremiah," she said, as he brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Make love to me?"
Jeremiah took her into his arms, kissed her, and after they lay down upon the soft grass he made love to her, and then held her gently as they talked.
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