Jeremy continued to blast away on the horn until the driver of the road grader blinked her lights, acknowledging the group’s presence.
As the convoy moved forward, the grader pushed up four-foot-high walls of ash and sludge on either side of the road. This unstable mass immediately started to spill back onto the edges of the highway. But someone on the WNG disaster-planning team had anticipated this situation. A second grader, about ten meters behind the first, pushed the spillover farther off the road, allowing the trucks to move virtually unimpeded.
Thirty minutes later, the convoy commander and a Humvee bearing the red cross insignia of a military medic vehicle drew up next to the evacuees. The grader moved past the F-250, then stopped.
“Did you folks call Triple A?” called a grinning captain as he trudged through the muck toward the clearly exuberant group.
Sophie was the first to reach their rescue party’s company commander. She threw her arms around him, laid her head on his chest, and gave him a bear hug. The twins, followed by the rest of the cheering group, were right on her heels and literally mobbed the captain, barely giving him a chance to speak.
“I’m Captain Bailey, One Thirty-Third Engineer Company, Wyoming National Guard,” he said, smiling. “It appears you folks could use a little roadside assistance.”
“That and a shower.” Judy, too, hugged Captain Bailey, joining Sophie in her display of sheer exuberance.
Captain Bailey switched to a more serious demeanor. “We’re on a search-and-recovery mission. We’ve been looking for survivors, such as yourselves, but unfortunately, you’re the first that we’ve found. Alive, that is. And we are just about as far as we can go in this stuff.
“You’ve probably noticed, once the volcanic ash gets wet and the air warms, it basically turns into concrete. The volcanologists down at the University of Utah, in Salt Lake City, warned us that after this rain and heat, everything in roughly a seventy-mile radius from the Yellowstone Caldera would essentially become the world’s largest parking lot. So we’ve got to get you out of here. As I said, we’re on a search-and-recovery mission. The search means we’re tasked with finding people, and the recovery means we have to return them or their remains to a safe zone.
“I have been explicitly ordered not to waste time and resources trying to salvage RVs or other vehicles. That means you’ll have to abandon that Airstream. However, if we can unhitch your truck and drag it out into the cleared section of the highway, you should be able to drive it down One Ninety-One and past the area blanketed by fallout. That will free my unit up enough to get a little farther up the road before this stuff turns into asphalt. Otherwise, you will all have to load up into one of my two Humvees, and we’ll drive you to our staging area in Hoback.”
Jeremy locked eyes with Judy. She nodded, and Jeremy turned back to the captain. “We’ll dig out the back and unhitch immediately and worry about getting the Airstream later. Or not, depending on how this stuff sets. Right now, we need to get out of here.”
“It’s getting a little ripe in here,” Judy added.
“OK, let’s get these things disconnected.” Motioning to a private first class waiting by the vehicles, Captain Bailey ordered, “Private Flinn, give these folks a hand and let’s get ’em headed south.”
“Oh, FYI, Captain,” Jeremy added, “we had to leave a man and woman in a parking lot several miles north of here. I don’t think you will make it that far, and I don’t think they would still be alive even if you did and were able to find them. But I felt like I needed to warn you. How and why we came to abandon them is a long story, and I’ll be glad to fill out a report when we make it back to wherever we’re going, but now you know.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for them, but I don’t think we’ll be able to bust through the ash fallout much farther.”
As Jeremy unhitched the F-250 from the Airstream, Brandon and PFC Flinn unwound a section of steel cable from a winch mounted on the front of one of the two-and-a-half-ton trucks and connected it to tow hooks on the F-250.
Jeremy got behind the wheel of the F-250, started its engine, and put it in gear. At the same time, PFC Flinn activated the winch, which slowly pulled the truck away from the Airstream through the mounds of slushy ash and onto the recently cleared highway. Within minutes the truck was free and ready to roll. Judy shooed the twins into their assigned seats as Sophie, holding Hunter, climbed in as well.
Brandon unhooked the cable, and he and PFC Flinn dutifully rewound it onto the winch. While they were doing so, Captain Bailey retrieved a bright red, five-gallon plastic container of gas from a carrier mounted on the back of his Humvee. He placed the fuel into the bed of the F-250.
“A little gift from Uncle Sam. This should be more than enough to get you past the fallout radius. Stay on One Ninety-One until the road splits north of Hoback. Then take Eighty-Nine all the way to Ogden. Thanks to the volcano cloud pattern and the jet streams, the path will be clear as soon as you cross the gap twenty miles south of Jackson Hole.”
“Thanks for everything, Captain,” Jeremy replied.
“That’s my job, sir. By the way, the president has declared most of Wyoming, the western sections of the Dakotas, Nebraska, and northern Colorado a national disaster. The NRO hasn’t been able to use regular satellite imagery due to the cloud.”
With a puzzled look, Jeremy asked, “NRO?”
“Yeah, sorry, that’s the National Reconnaissance Office, which is part of NSA, the National Security Administration, or as we call it, ‘No Say Anything.’ Anyway, they had to revert to some of their spooky tricks, like the NROL-50 reconnaissance satellite. That stuff is so ultraclassified that they wouldn’t even release the images to the convoy commander. They will get real-time, turn-by-turn directions as they make their way toward Yellowstone. That’s all you folks need to know.
“Now, you best get on your way. My guys and I have a mission to complete, and as we say in the military, the mission isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” Captain Bailey slapped the rear window, giving the northwestern US signal to get moving.
Thanks to the pair of double-bladed army snow plows and what was at least a lull in the ashfall, Jeremy was able to drive almost twenty miles an hour on the straight sections of US 191. In less than an hour, the group entered what had once been a tourist mecca, Jackson Hole. Now the area was comprised of dark two-story lumps—buildings caving in from the weight of a five-foot blanket of gray-black volcanic sputum.
Roughly fifteen miles out of Jackson Hole, they passed through a gap in the mountains that had allowed centuries of passage from the plains of Southwest Wyoming through the Tetons and into the Snake River valley.
Just south of that gap, the fallen ash vanished. Just like that. The road in front of the little group was as clear as if nothing had happened. But only a few hundred yards behind them, mounds of pumice were pushed to either side of the road.
“Captain Bailey wasn’t exaggerating when he told us about the jet-stream effect on the volcano cloud,” Brandon mused, looking out the window. “It looks like we will be in for clear sailing, at least for a while.”
Just north of Hoback, the road split into US 191, which veered southeast, and US 89, which headed southwest following the Snake River and its load of ash. Jeremy stayed on 89 as it meandered through Logan and Ogden before ending in Salt Lake City. Along the way, they joined the swelling ranks of tourists and residents fleeing the fury of the formally dormant Yellowstone supervolcano.
Refugees were easy to spot. Their cars and trucks were still covered in crusty blankets of gray and black.
“The scene reminds me of The Grapes of Wrath,” Judy said. “The John Steinbeck novel about the Joad family who fled their repossessed farm in the Oklahoma Dust Bowl. They headed for the ‘promised land,’ California.”
Jeremy nodded. He knew the story. The movie starring Henry Fonda was one of Judy’s all
-time favorites and always made her cry.
After seeing scores of No Vacancy signs on the small-town hotels along US 89, Judy pulled out her recharged iPhone and found a Holiday Inn Express on the outskirts of Farmington, just north of Salt Lake City.
After everyone had what may well have been record-breaking showers, the group drove to the Costa Vida Mexican restaurant. Brandon, Sophie, and Hunter would be flying out the next day, and a celebratory dinner was in order. As everyone stuffed themselves on sizzling fajitas and homemade tacos, Sophie broached what was clearly an elephant in the room.
“If you two don’t mind my doing so, I’m going to put on my lawyer slash prosecutor hat and give you some unsolicited, pro bono legal advice. I wouldn’t say a word—nada—about the incident that happened when we were running from the eruption. First of all, it was purely self-defense. That animal was getting ready to crack open Judy’s head. Secondly, your pistol was loaded with shotshells, not technically lethal rounds of ammo. In fact, they are downright humane compared to hollow points.
“Lastly, and most importantly, you only wounded the guy. I could go on and on, but trust me, there’s not a DA in the country that would waste time trying to prosecute that case, even if the guy died, and they somehow found his sorry ass, which according to Captain Bradley, they most likely won’t.”
“She’s right,” Brandon added. “You probably saved Judy’s life, and God only knows what he was planning to do with Sophie and the twins once he had the three of us out of the way. This is a perfect example of when it’s wise to let sleeping dogs lie.”
“I appreciate your advice,” Jeremy replied. “That’s pretty much the course of action I had planned to follow. Or I suppose ‘nonaction’ would be a better term. But it’s always good to have your decision legitimized. Especially by a pair of law enforcement experts.”
After dinner, everyone lingered, reminiscing about the events of the last several days and discussing plans for the future. The next morning, Sophie, Brandon, and Hunter would take a hotel shuttle to the airport and fly back to Duluth. Judy, Jeremy, and the twins would run the F-250 through a car wash and begin their trek to Nashville. Everyone hugged one another, sent and accepted Facebook friend requests, and vowed to get together again on a more relaxing vacation.
Four years later, almost to the day, in one of those tragic twists of irony, Jeremy learned that Brandon had been killed when a drug bust got out of control.
38
The Farm
Unveiling of the Centrist/Stakley-Lopez campaign platform, eighteen months before the day of
The mood was optimistic, almost festive, as the Centrist Party planning committee gathered for the final day of the conference. Select members of the press had been invited to the Farm conference room for the unveiling of the party platform and objectives.
David, who had been chatting with Judson, walked over to where Mia was already sitting and sat down next to her. “It warms my heart to see someone who may be more obsessed with punctuality than I am,” he whispered.
“I may have a touch of OCD, but right now, I think my adrenal glands are running full tilt,” Mia replied.
David scanned the reporters standing on one side of the room. “The press was warned beforehand that this would be an informational conference only, not a question-and-answer session and absolutely not a traditional press conference. Milt is eager to start some campaign buzz, but he doesn’t want to turn our meeting into a circus. At this stage of the game, I agree wholeheartedly.”
Mia nodded. “Yeah, the old warhorse is a master at campaign publicity. I’m glad he’s on our side.”
Milt stood to the right of the enormous monitor that was suspended from the conference room ceiling, a few feet from its equally disproportionately large table, Arthur. A summary of the Centrist Party platform’s preamble was projected on the screen, a single slide encapsulating its purpose, objectives, and justification for existence.
Looking over at David, Milt raised his eyebrows in an are-you-ready-to-get-started expression. David nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.
Milt stepped up to the mic. “Good morning, everyone. I trust you all had a good night’s sleep and that you are well rested and ready for this last day of our retreat, seven days that could well prove to be one of the most critical workweeks in our country’s history.” He pointed to the monitor. “Now I’m proud to present you with the synopsis of our beliefs, our core values, and the strategy we will follow to make David Stakley and Mia Lopez the next president and vice president of the United States of America.”
Milt left-clicked the button on a wireless presentation remote, and a PowerPoint heading appeared on the screen.
Summarized Preamble of the Centrist Party Platform
and the Stakley-Lopez Presidential Campaign
“The following slides share the basic tenets of our party and serve as the foundation for the Centrist platform, which, in turn, sets forth our strategy, our plan, to move this great country forward. Away from the extremes of the Left or Right and toward common ground. Toward the ideals, the hopes and dreams shared by the overwhelming majority of our people. Not just the loudest, the true middle class.”
Milt proceeded to click through a series of slides, one for each tenet, and read them aloud, but giving his audience time to read them as well, visually reinforcing the message.
The Centrist Party platform sets forth the principles that will unite all Americans around a common belief that we are stronger, more productive, and happier when we work and live together. Truly one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
We believe the Constitution of the United States is the most effective governing document ever developed by humankind and that it was designed to be self-perpetuating and able to adapt to the needs of its citizens and legal residents.
We believe in taking a moderate stance on all political, social, and economic issues and a negotiated, common-sense approach when addressing local, national, and global problems.
We believe in the complete separation of church and state and that our government, laws, and elected officials are not to be influenced by any religion, institution, or foreign power.
We believe in participatory government and in the power of an engaged citizenry.
We believe that citizenship is a right that must be sought after, earned, and cherished and should not be bestowed simply by the geographic location of one’s birth.
We believe the United States is and must always be a democratic republic, that no elected or appointed official has the right to remain in office for life, and that all such officials must be held to high moral and ethical standards.
We believe in the power of the free market, international trade, and capitalism.
We believe in the sanctity of our borders while simultaneously developing and nurturing political and unrestricted trade relationships with other countries.
We believe that the United States must maintain the most powerful military on the planet but that we are not a global police agency. We will not, once engaged, wage drawn-out conflicts, nor will we attempt to win the “hearts and minds” of our foes.
We believe that every citizen and permanent resident has a right to receive quality healthcare. Still, this right must not be squandered through the inappropriate use of any substance or behavior.
We believe that every mentally stable, law-abiding citizen has the right to keep and bear legally procured, non-military-grade arms and ammunition.
We believe that every adult resident has an obligation to work and contribute to society to the best of his or her ability. We do not believe that anyone has the right to expect support from our government or our citizenry if he or she is not willing to do so.
We believe we must eliminate our dependence on fossil fuels, develop a nationwide uninterruptable power grid, and achieve a zero-carbon footprint by the
end of the twenty-first century.
Milt turned his attention back to his audience. “As soon as David Stakley is sworn in as POTUS, we’ll begin working on the two most fundamental and radical changes to our constitution in over two hundred years. The first thing we must do is repeal and replace the Fourteenth Amendment.”
An audible gasp swept the room, followed by muted murmurs among members of the press and others who were not part of the working committee.
Milt clicked the remote, and another slide appeared on the screen.
Eliminate Birthright Citizenship
To obtain citizenship in the United States, one must
apply for such on or after his or her 17th birthday;
serve a minimum of 2 years in the military, law enforcement, or another federally approved service organization; and
pass the same citizenship exam currently required of naturalized citizens.
“As you can imagine, this will be by far the most contentious of the amendments we hope to pull through Congress. But it will also have the greatest across-the-board impact on the future of our country. We passionately believe that apathy and political ignorance lie at the very core of many of the issues we face. This modification will go a long way toward ensuring we have a far more engaged citizenry willing to actively participate in their government, not just sit idly on the sidelines waiting for someone else to steer the ship.
“Over the next hour, we will discuss how this, in concert with other sweeping changes, will serve to alleviate the most egregious and growing problems threatening the safety and well-being of our people. We’ll get to those problems and their solutions shortly.
Out of Crisis Page 24