Sweetness in the Dark (8 page)

“That’s great news then, isn’t it?” Meredith asked. “With power, things will get back to normal, won’t they?”

“Hardly likely, honey,” the driver answered. “I ‘spect the water will be running and maybe the sewer will flush and the lights may come on a bit, but all those refrigerators and stoves and microwaves and phones and TVs and radios are all history. Dead as a bug.”

“What? How can that be? What good is electricity if there’s nothing to run?” Meredith asked, her teenage mind trying to grasp what the new world looked like.

“Hopefully we’ll have basic services. With water, we can drink and irrigate crops. With crops we can eat. With sewers we won’t all catch diseases and get sick. Eventually new electronic stuff will get built and slowly we’ll get some of our old life back,” Ed said. “People need to realize that’s all going to take time.”

“Yeah, and in the meantime, all those people who never did a lick of work in their life aren’t getting those government checks anymore. As if there is anything left to buy. They’re the reason we’re heading back to the old homestead. The big cities have some sorting out to do before they’re safe,” the driver said.

“I’m afraid you’re right. We have developed a whole class of people who take and take from those who work. With the gravy train stopped, they’ll be out looking to take and take, only now with a gun,” Ed said.

“Well, good luck to you. You’ll need it if Boise is your destination,” the driver said. He fired up the old Ford and with a series of explosions, headed north.

“We forgot to tell him about Riggins. He left so fast,” Matt said. “Maybe the guards in New Meadows will tip him off.”

“Hope so. Hate to have them drive into trouble,” Ed said.

“So, General, what do you make of lights in Boise?” Paul asked.

“Well, from the work I put in with the EMP Planning Team over the last four years, it makes sense. I just hope they control the mobs before they destroy what’s left. We need to get a move-on people.”

They packed their bags, ate a quick breakfast of dry cereal and headed south. As they went, Paul would pull out some yellow plastic tape and tie off a long stretch on each five mile marker. He would then write something on it with a felt marker he carried in his pocket.

“All right, Doc. I’ve been watching you do that since Riggins. You’d asked me to stop the car and now you’re still doing it,” Ed said. “My curiosity has maxed out. What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s a signal I worked out long ago with my brother. If we ever got in this situation, we would mark our progress home with yellow tape. Always carry a roll when I travel,” Paul answered.

“And you expect your brother to come along and find you?”

“We both have been expecting this sort of thing for quite some time. Actually, I figured on a financial collapse of the Federal government first, being an economics sort of guy,” Paul said.

“And your brother?” Ed asked.

“An astrophysicists. He’d been betting on what has happened, although he wished for a financial collapse. More people would survive,” Paul added.

“You two must be all yucks at parties. I can see the crowd gathering around to discuss the benefits of financial doom versus electric Armageddon now,” Ed laughed.

“You sound like my ex-wife. She used to say the same thing.”

“Daddy, there’s smoke on the horizon. A lot of smoke,” Meredith said. The concern in her voice was palpable.

The two men stopped walking and stared at the horizon. Large columns of smoke climbed over the ridge into the sky. They were still a couple of days march from Emmett, but the warning signs from the Treasure Valley were announcing themselves.

* * *

Two days later they were still not yet into the Payette River Valley. The smoke continued, but each day it would vary. There was no mistaking that things were burning around Boise. Paul continued his five-mile marker exercise to Ed’s amusement.

As they slowly climbed the last hill that should take them into Emmett, the group struggled with thirst. They had been away from any stream for the day and their water had run out. With the hot weather of summer beating down on them, Paul called for a break under one of the few trees near the road. Everyone flopped down exhausted.

Their food was almost gone and the adults had been passing on their share to feed the growing kids. Paul pulled his shirt up to look at his flat stomach. It hadn’t been this flat since his days playing baseball in high school.

Amanda walked up from behind and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Feeling pretty buff, big guy. I thought only twenty-somethings had stomachs like this.”

“Twenty-somethings and prisoners of war. Starving takes on a sexy look. At least until your backbone starts protruding out your front. Then it’s not so cute,” Paul said.

Paul heard it first as he stood with his ear aimed north. There was definitely a vehicle coming their way. No other car had passed them since the old truck. Paul whistled to get everyone’s attention and pointed in the direction of the noise.

They were waiting by the side of the road as they saw a white 1958 Chevy Bel Air four door sedan slowly climb the hill. He knew even from this distance the cars particulars - even the license plate number.

Soon Matt and Meredith where jumping up and down. The others looked at them quizzically. Matt and Meredith ran to their dad and wrapped their arms around him. Amanda moved back from the crowd, but Paul gathered her into the group. This was an event for all of them to share.

The Bel Air pulled up to a stop and switched off the engine. Paul walked over and opened the driver’s door. The driver leaped out and hugged Paul.

Ed looked on in amusement. “Don’t tell me, your brother?”

“The one and only. General, may I introduce Doctor John Ewing, lately of Eugene, Oregon. And that looks like my nephew, Isaac, riding shotgun,” Paul said proudly.

“Boy, you’re hard to find. Luckily we ran into someone in an old Ford flatbed that recalled talking to you. From his description, I figured it was you. The yellow tape on the five mile markers confirmed it,” John said.

As John climbed out of the old Chevy and stood, Amanda stared at the giant before her. She turned to Paul as the others all busily hugged each other.

“You never said you had a giant in the family. And why does John have a different last name?” Amanda asked.

“My Mom was married before she met my Dad,” Paul explained. “John’s father was killed in a bar room fight while he was still a baby. My Mom moved back to Bruneau. My folks were old school friends and my Dad raised John as his own.”

“I can tell the gene pool was different.”

“Sore subject. John is 6’5” while I top out at six feet even. The high school basketball loved him. At least I got the hair gene,” Paul smiled.

Amanda ran her fingers through his hair as they both stared at the bald head of his half brother.

“And I’ll take hair over giant anytime,” Amanda said. They walked over and joined the others. Paul fell into telling their personal stories of survival, as the rest all broke out the food and water Isaac took out of the trunk. After Paul’s story, John started his.

The CME had hit as expected on Pine Mountain, but he had already left. With a two to three hour warning, he had called Isaac to put their plans in motion. John and Isaac had worked on their survival skills over the last few years so things were ready.

But first John’s wife, Mary, had to be diverted. John called her with a bogus errand to run for him. While she was on the phone, he gave her one last chance to change her mind.

They had argued numerous times over what they should do in the event of societal collapse. She had always remained adamant that she would not leave her sister and father in Oregon. She even said at one point that she wasn’t sure if she wanted to survive if society went over the cliff.

After enough arguments over the subject, John let his wife have her choice, but he wasn’t about to let his three kids risk the same fate. That was why he only told Isaac. He wasn’t sure that his daughter Brittany would leave her mom.

John and Isaac had worked up the ruse for Brittany that their grandfather had taken ill and that they needed to head to Idaho right away. Mom would follow them later.

Isaac was familiar with the old family car. The Chevy Bel Air had been John and Paul’s father’s car forty years ago. Like all good Idaho farmers, he had parked it in a shed years ago when the newer car came home. Eventually it had stopped working, but he had never sold it.

When Paul and John started preparing, they both realized the value of the old Chevy. They refurbished it with new tires, hoses, a battery and a little work on the engine. John had taken it to Eugene, as he had the furthest distance to go to their father’s ranch.

Located in Bruneau, Idaho, about seventy miles south of Boise, the ranch had everything they would need. Located by the Bruneau River, they had a source of fresh water and hydro power. Since Bruneau was south of the Snake River in desert country, there weren’t any nearby population centers to contend with in a crisis.

And the best part about Bruneau, having grown up there, John and Paul knew most of the people in the area. They were all hard-working folks that would defend their property. The kind of neighbors you needed in a time like this.

“So you got everyone to Bruneau?” Paul asked.

“Mary still didn’t want any part of it, but I got the kids all loaded and on their way before I told her. She was angry. I told her she could catch them and meet us outside Bend. The pulse hadn’t hit yet so her Toyota Prius was still working fine,” John said.

“And no Mary?”

“We waited at the Pine Mountain turnoff on Highway 20 ‘til the pulse hit. We ditched my state-issued university pickup. We had to change out the points on the Chevy like we figured we’d have to do. Then we all headed over to Idaho,” John said. “Brittany was pissed and probably still is, but Mom is dealing with her. I left Tyler in charge with Dad. We siphoned some gas out of the dead cars and headed up here.”

“Did you go through McCall? We heard it was bad there.”

“So did we. We came around through Murphy and up to Weiser to avoid any Boise spillover. Payette was a little dicey but we waved our guns out the window and the surly ones backed off,” John said. “I think we’ll head home through Emmett and cut across the farmland to Marsing. Then back to Murphy and Bruneau.”

“Wait. Did I hear Bruneau? I need to get to Boise right away,” the general said.

“We can get you to Boise, but first we need to get the kids safely to Bruneau. I haven’t asked, but where are your grandkids parents?” Paul asked. He dreaded the answer.

Ed’s eyes began to mist up as he fought back the tears. “My only daughter and her husband had finally saved enough money to take their dream vacation. They were in Italy when this all happened, I’m afraid.”

Everyone stood quiet with the realization of their probable fate. Europe would be in turmoil and they were strangers in a strange land.
Who would take them in and feed them?
Paul wondered.

“Well then, the grandkids can be safe at my parents’ house until they get home,” Paul lied. “Then we’ll get you into Boise. They’ll be perfectly safe in Bruneau ‘til things settle down.”

Ed wiped away the tears that had run down his cheeks. Paul could tell he knew the truth of his daughter’s chances, but he agreed that the grandkids should be out of harm’s way. He would be busy getting civil order back to Idaho.

Tasman Sea, near New Zealand

The Tasman Sea had been relatively calm for this time of the winter. The seas had been routinely in the ten-to-twelve foot swell range with winds in the moderate squall rate. With thirty-to-forty knot winds pushing the forty-foot Cheoy Lee sailboat, the Leffingwell family was making a fast crossing without any mishaps.

The two older boys had adjusted to life at sea and stood watch during the daylight hours. This left Desmond to take the night watch. He didn’t mind as he got to finally sleep on a routine basis during the day. Only the two young daughters were still suffering from bouts of seasickness.

Desmond and Marina were worried about the youngest, Jamie. While Carole was finally eating and keeping food down, Jamie still heaved up almost everything that she ate. Her body wasted away from what had been a healthy ten-year-old girl when they had left. Motion sickness patches seemed to help a little, but drugged her so badly she could barely move.

“We need to get Jamie off this boat soon, or I’m afraid she’ll…” Marina said.

“I know.” Desmond cut her off. He knew that she couldn’t last with no nourishment. “The last fix put us within two hundred miles off the Cook Straits. At the rate we’ve been going we should reach the South Island tomorrow.”

“Are you nervous about entering the Strait?”

“Sure. It’s notorious for its wind. I feel better that I’ve sailed out of Nelson before when we’ve visited. Spending time on a boat up around Abel Tasman National Park helps. I’m at least familiar with the landmarks,” Desmond said.

“But that was in summer when the weather was calm, and we were in protected waters most of the time.”

“I know, Marina, I know. But we have to pray that this weather holds. If we get a storm in the Strait, we might get blown straight through into the Pacific Ocean,” Desmond said.

The two remained quiet as they sipped their tea. Michael was at the helm with his older brother standing watch with him. Desmond had just checked on the two boys to make sure they had their lifelines securely attached to the boat.

“Land! I see land. Off the starboard bow,” Noel yelled.

Desmond ran up the companionway ladder and into the cockpit. Noel handed him the binoculars he had been using. Michael kept a tight grip on the wheel as another twenty foot swell rolled under their stern. Desmond fought to maintain balance as he scanned the horizon where Noel pointed.

As the swell lifted the bow, the boat lurched to port. Desmond lost his balance and started to fall as the boat leaned to his left. He reached out to grab something, but found nothing but air. As he realized he was going over the side into the rolling sea, he threw his arm up and caught the lifeline that was stretched around the gunwale on the boat’s stanchions. His forearm caught part of the taut wire. Noel dove across the cockpit to tackle his dad around the legs to hold on to him.