Curtain Fall: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 1) (36 page)

“I’m not talking about gas and medicine,” interrupted Adam. “I mean us, dad . . . everyone in the United States? What’s gonna happen to America?”

“That’s a good question, Adam. I wish I could say the government will step in and help, but I don’t think they will. In fact, that should have been the President’s voice on the emergency broadcast we just heard, but I’m betting they’re whisking him away to some secret underground bunker somewhere.

“I have a feeling we were very lucky. When you consider the scope of the entire disaster, that being the eruption and the major earthquakes, well, it’s more than the government can handle. I think they’ll hunker
down and wait to see what happens. I think we’ll be on our own for a long while,” finished John.

“That sucks,” exclaimed Adam, and John grunted his agreement.

“How long is a while?” asked Adam, as he turned to look at his dad.

“That’s another good question,” said John. “My guess is somewhere in the neighborhood of a year . . . maybe more. If people start turning on each other it will get ugly . . . and stay ugly, for a very long time.”

The drive continued in silence until they reached the first available gas station. Adam pointed and said, “Over there.”

“I see it,” said John. The gas station was lit, operational, and seemed to be handling the normal amount of traffic. In other words, panic hadn’t set it. John pulled in and parked near the pumps. He slid his card through the reader and quickly began to fill the Suburban’s tanks.

While John filled the truck, Adam removed the empty fuel cans and sat them on the ground near the Suburban’s rear tire. He began to anxiously hover, so John had an idea. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a hundred dollars in twenties. “Here. Go in and buy some snacks, whatever you want. And spend all of it. I’ll take care of the gas.”

“Spend all of it?” asked Adam, surprised.

“Yep. But don’t dally. Have fun, but stay serious . . . Okay?”

“Sure dad, no problem,” said Adam, and he took off at a jog for the store.

John was busy filling the second to last empty gas can when Adam returned with his bags of goodies. “That was fun,” he said. “But I didn’t spend it all. I’ve still got forty bucks.”

“Then put that stuff in the truck and go get more. How about some Gatorade, or some other non-carbonated energy drinks. Not milk or anything that will spoil without refrigeration,” added John.

Adam tossed the bags into the truck and ran back to the store. He returned just as John was placing the filled fuel cans in the Suburban. They climbed in and drove out without fanfare. It seemed like just another day was happening around them.

That same thought must have entered Adam’s mind as well, because he said, “It’s weird, dad. It’s like nothing happened. Everybody’s acting like nothing happened.”

“What did the guy in the store say when you bought all that stuff?” asked John.

“He didn’t say nothing . . . looked at me a little strange, but he didn’t say a word. Are we the only ones that know about the disaster?” asked Adam.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Then why isn’t everyone else buying gas and food?”

“They will . . . you can count on it. We’re riding the crest of the wave. You know, surfing to shore. But when the wave passes the other surfers, they’ll paddle like mad to try and catch it. Unfortunately, it will be moving too fast for them. In a few hours I’m betting everyone will run to the stores to stock up. By then we should be home again,” said John.

“It’s creepy,” said Adam.

John nodded and said, “We’ve got one more stop to make, and for this one I want you to wait in the car.”

The smell of gas filled the Suburban, and Adam turned to consider the implications of John’s request. He faced forward and said, “Won’t I suffocate in here?”

“No, you won’t suffocate. But you’re right about ventilation. Reach back and roll down the windows so we can get more air flowing through the truck.”

“Why do you want me to stay with the truck?” asked Adam, as he lowered the windows.

“To guard it, for one. But mostly because I have to take care of something, and I don’t want you in the way.”

John saw the hurt on Adams’ face and quickly added, “Besides, I need you to be my get-away driver.”

“What?” Adam shouted.

“Relax. I want you to stay with the truck because I’m gonna leave it running. We may have to leave . . . quickly. So I need you to stay in it. Can you do that for me?”

“OK, dad. But you’re not going to get into trouble are you?” asked Adam.

“I don’t plan on it,” said John. “But I do plan to take care of Abby. I just need you to stay in the truck and be ready to go.”

“I will . . . but I wish I could help more,” said Adam.

“You will . . . by staying in the truck,” said John, as he pulled into the pharmacy parking lot. He picked a space four down from the store’s entrance and then backed in.

Two men were busy placing a sheet of plywood over one of the store’s front windows. Other than that, there was no other sign of physical damage to the store. And better yet, the power was still on. John didn’t know why power was out in his neighborhood, but on in town, but he was perfectly fine with it.

He removed the keys from the ignition and reached over to unlock the glove box. Adam grinned because he knew exactly what that meant. But it was the sound of an approaching police cruiser that broke the moment. They both turned to watch the cruiser speed by before turning their attention back to the glove box.

“You know the revolver . . . the Ruger LCR is in there. It’s loaded, so don’t take it out unless you absolutely need to . . . if you feel threatened in any way,” said John.

“I know the drill, dad,” said Adam.

“I know you do. Just be smart, and careful. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” said John, as he slipped the key back into the ignition. He almost started the truck, but decided against it. Partly to save the fuel, but mostly because he felt he wouldn’t be making a quick getaway. So he willed himself to relax and stepped out.

John closed the door and looked at Adam through the open window. “I love you, son. And trust you, too. Sit tight. I’ll be back before you know it. Oh, and keep playing with the phone. See if you can call your mom.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Adam, as he picked up his phone.

John entered the drugstore, grabbed a shopping cart, and went straight for the nearest battery display. He then systematically cleared the display of all suitable battery sizes. On another aisle he grabbed all the matches and disposable lighters they had. Next he went down the personal care aisles and grabbed shaving cream, shampoo, deodorant, and a few random medical supplies.

He grabbed more of everything he thought they would need during the upcoming survival period. Supplies like rubbing alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, Epson salt, betadine solution, bandages, medical tape, aspirin, allergy medicine, multi-vitamins, and anything else he had either used, or seen being used, in their house.

No one was standing at the pharmacy window, so John decided to pay for the stuff in his cart before trying to tackle the issue of Abby’s medicine. He headed to the only open register, and smiled at the large-framed, middle-aged woman, with blue highlights in her brown hair.

She raised an eyebrow at John’s purchases, but said nothing as he began to load it onto the counter. They worked together bagging the supplies, but it was a slow and methodical event. John cursed himself for not taking care of such a purchase at a different store, but he didn’t want to go farther into town, or spend more time away from home than he should. So he turned up his patience and smiled as much as possible.

The bill was just over five-hundred dollars, and John was about to question the receipt when he remembered all the batteries. He pulled out his wallet and swiped a credit card through the reader. Nothing happened. He did it again, and an error message appeared on the screen.

“Here, let me try,” said the lady, as she held out a hand for John’s credit card.

John handed her the card and watched as she first tried to swipe it herself, and then manually enter the card’s numbers. The woman mumbled something and tried again. He knew she was thinking about having to return all the product to the shelves. John knew she wanted the sale as much as he did, but he said nothing while she tried again.

Finally, accepting her defeat, the woman said, “I’m sorry. I think the system’s down. Do you have any other method of payment?”

John took the first card and handed her a different one, but to the same results. The woman shook her head, and with a frown said, “Check or cash. Oh, wait. I can’t accept a check for that much with the system down. Do you have cash?”

“I do,” said John.

The woman sighed and said, “I wonder what’s going with the credit cards. The system was still up after the earthquake. That’s really strange.”

John wasn’t in the mood to discuss the disaster as he pulled out his cash. But he did wonder how she could know nothing about it. He realized she was no different than most of the people out and about that beautiful fall day. The people around him had no idea what was coming, and he was beginning to feel cracks in his otherwise calm demeanor.

A part of John wanted to grab the woman by the collar and scream a warning in her face, but then he would be the one who looked like a lunatic, not her and her blue hair and blissful ignorance. The strangeness of the disaster was already beginning to seep in around the edges of his sanity, and it wasn’t even here yet. Everyone who thought they were normal were actually crazy. And John, who began to think he was going crazy, realized he was the only sane person for miles around.

John handed her the cash and she returned him the change. He wasted no time running the supplies out to the truck, and asked Adam to load them while he took care of one more thing. “I didn’t think you were doing anymore shopping,” said Adam.

“Me either, but we need this stuff. I’ll be right back,” said John, and he returned to the pharmacy.

John knew Abby’s life depended on his ability to secure more insulin for her, and that ability hinged on the gold in his pocket, his powers of observation, and his communication skills. He didn’t want to threaten a pharmacist with his gun, but he would if he had no other choice. He was going to provide for Abby, one way or another.

John approached the counter and waited for the pharmacist to recognize him and approach. A well-groomed man in a white smock approached the counter and asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

“I hope so, said John. I’m here to pick up a prescription for my daughter, Abby Anderson.” John didn’t think the prescription was in yet, but he provided all of Abby’s vital statistics to the man as he punched away at the keyboard. After studying the screen carefully, he looked at John and said, “I’m sorry sir, but we don’t have a prescription under that name.”

“Can you check again, please?” asked John.

The man complied, and while he worked John considered his options. He really didn’t want to pull his gun on the man. John thought of himself as an upstanding and rational person, not someone prone to violence for the sake of anything. But he was desperate and at the end of his rope.

The pharmacist repeated his statement and John dropped his head. He thought maybe to plead with the man, appeal to his sense of goodwill, but John wasn’t a groveler. Besides, he didn’t think that would work. It was then that he noticed the ring on the man’s right hand.

The ring was a small gold coin, wrapped in gold wire, and set on a gold band. It was something John would never wear, but it gave him an idea. He reached into his pocket and felt for one of the one-ounce gold coins.

John palmed the coin and asked, “Sir, have you by chance seen or heard the news today. You know . . . about the Yellowstone Caldera eruption?”

“Yes . . . of course I have. Why?” asked the man, as he eyed John cautiously, as if suspecting something asymmetrical was coming his way.

John noticed the look on the man’s face, and could tell the pharmacist was up on the news. But the man was also suspicious of him. Still, John was committed to Abby, to the mission. He didn’t know how things would turn out, but knew he had to see it through to the end, with hope that everything would work out. Even though the gun at the small of his
back was pushed away, it remained a distant option; a dark option, but an option just the same. He would use it if given no other option.

John pressed forward and asked, “But do you really know what’s happening? What’s coming?” asked John.

“The earthquakes were serious,” said the man. “More aftershocks . . . I guess.”

John saw the pharmacist’s nametag and thought.
“Travis? You don’t look like a Travis. Travis was the name of a younger man . . . someone with face piercings and neck tattoos.”
But aloud, John said, “Yes, of course they were serious, and I agree there’ll be more aftershocks. But do you know about the volcano . . . about the eruption?”

Travis nodded and said, “Yes. I heard about it. But that’s for people living close . . . within five-hundred miles. We’re far enough away to not worry about it.”

John said, “Hmmm. Well, let me tell you, Travis. That’s not true. The eruption caused the earthquakes, and it was big enough to send ash here. Volcanic ash will fall here . . . in Texas.

“I don’t believe you,” replied Travis, but he said it without conviction, as if some part of him heard and believed John’s words, but still wanted to deny the possibility.

“You don’t have to believe me. You’ll see for yourself soon enough,” replied John.

“Why are you telling me this . . . what do you want?”

“You know what I need. I need insulin for my little girl. Do you have family, Travis? Do you have a little girl?”

“I have a son. He’s three,” said Travis, as he glanced over John’s shoulder and into the store.

John didn’t turn because he knew no one was behind him. He also knew no one entered the store since he approached the pharmacist counter. He didn’t know what Travis was looking at, but John kept up the appearance of being interested only in him. To John, it looked like Travis was actually thinking about leaving, about running from the store to go home and get his family.