The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) (29 page)

Read The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) Online

Authors: Deborah D. Moore

Tags: #survival, #disaster survival, #disaster, #action, #survivalist, #weather disasters, #preppers, #prepper survival, #prepper survivalist, #post apocalyptic

Once completed, Trevor removed his mask and
smiled at his handiwork. Two 2x4’s cut in half and nailed together
provided a small but adequate four foot by four foot area. He had
stapled an old tarp to the inside to protect the concrete floor and
then he filled it with a couple inches of dirt, topping it with a
few clumps of grass.

“Where are my girls?” Trevor called out from
the kitchen door. Soon, they were admiring Trevor’s contraption.
Holly sniffed around it, stepped onto the dirt, and squatted again.
She stepped off, wagged her tail, and licked Trevor’s hand.

“I swear she knows you built that for her,”
Christine said. “She’s really smart.”

 

***

 

John parked the Subaru beside the PT Cruiser
in the driveway of Christine’s house. The Subaru had been
sputtering for the last couple of miles, but he didn’t dare stop to
cover the air intake with the pantyhose Allexa gave him. He was
dubious that it would work anyway.

He stepped out of the car after putting on
the face mask Allex had given him, very glad to have it. Ash came
cascading down on him from an overhanging branch that had been
overloaded with the heavy gray flakes. He tried the person-door on
the garage, found it locked, and smiled under the mask.

After rapping hard on the back door, John
could see Trevor through the window, pointing to the garage. He
nodded in understanding.

Trevor unlocked the door, and after giving
himself a quick shake, John scurried into the building and removed
his mask.

“John! What are you doing here?” Trevor asked
with concern.

“I’ve come to help Christine through this ash
fall event,” John said, now questioning his own motives. “She is so
naïve and really believes in the government, and that they will
protect her.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve been working with her on
that.” Trevor sighed. “John, I appreciate this, and I’m sure she
will be glad to see you, but she has a husband now,” Trevor
reminded him, “and I will never let any harm come to her.”

“Perhaps I’ve made a mistake in coming.” John
wiped his hands across his bald head, pushing his ever present cap
off while he looked around. He spotted the stacks of canned goods
and cases of water. “You’ve been stocking up on food I see. That’s
good. Where did you get that much on such short notice?”

“You forget I own a couple of convenience
stores,” Trevor answered calmly. “Come on in, John. You can’t go
back out there now. I’m surprised you even made it here.”

 

***

 

“Daddy!” Christine hugged John, and then
backed away. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in
Michigan with Allexa.”

“I was, baby girl, I was. When Yellowstone
blew, Allex knew what was going to happen. She warned everyone and
then went into a non-stop get-ready-mode. I’ve never seen such
frantic yet organized activity. Even though she had plenty of food
and supplies for all of us, she pushed for us to do more and to
ready the houses. Her sons followed her lead because they believe
and trust her. Her. Not the government talking heads. That’s when I
realized what an injustice I’ve done with you, Christine.”

“What do you mean, Daddy?” she asked
quietly.

“I’ve actually encouraged you to believe and
to trust authority figures; that they always knew best and would be
the ones you could turn to for help. I was wrong, and this time I
was wrong enough that it could have cost your life, and I couldn’t
let that happen. What I didn’t take into account is that this
remarkable husband of yours is doing what I failed to do. He’s
educating you about the real world. I came here to save you, but he
already has.”

Christine slipped her arm through Trevor’s
and smiled. “Yes, he has.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

 

 

“Ah, I see you made it here, John,” Marty
said.

Christine gawked at him.
“You knew he was coming?”

“A few hours ago I got a call from a former
officer of mine. He had John stopped at a rest area and was going
to take him to one of the shelter centers when John said he knew me
and I could vouch for him. I never thought I would be the focus of
name-dropping!” he chuckled. “Glad you got here okay, John. We can
always use the extra security.”

“Do you really think we’ll need more
security, Marty?” Trevor asked.

“Yes I do. One of the reasons I stopped here,
other than to get a bite to eat, was to let you know what I’ve been
hearing on the police channels.” He finished off his slice of bread
before continuing. “The riots in Indianapolis have gotten worse and
have spread. That’s the good news. The bad news is people are
dropping everywhere. They are on the hunt for food and are roaming
the streets without breathing protection, not even a handkerchief
over their noses. It doesn’t take long for them to succumb. Some
say it’s the poison gases from the explosions, some think it’s the
ash itself. The officials aren’t saying either way.”

“If that many are dying, how are they
rioting?” Marion asked.

“There’s the rub. There are whole segments of
people who have taken precautions and are out and about unopposed.
They are looting and burning the stores that have been abandoned,
and they’re mugging those that are dying in the streets. Mugging
isn’t the right word, because many of these people are already
dead.” Marty paused for a long moment. “Since there isn’t much food
for them to find in the city, these mobs are branching out and
hitting the smaller communities that are even less protected – like
us. So yes, we can’t have too much security. Oh, and there have
also been reports of the usual ruses being employed.”

“What are the usual ruses?” Christine asked,
confused.

“Some are using children to knock on your
door asking for food or help, and as soon as you open the door, an
adult jumps out from the side and forces their way in. Similarly,
some have a recording of a baby crying tucked into a bundle of
blankets that is left on the steps, and when the door is opened,
they attack. So don’t fall for any of that,” Marty cautioned.

Christine sat there, stunned.

“I’m surprised that still works,” John
said.

“There’s a whole new generation that have
never been exposed to that kind of deception, John,” Marty said.
“Thankfully, there are us older folks to guide them”

“Any word on how much longer this cloud will
last?” Trevor asked.

Marty leaned back in his chair. As he gazed
at the expectant faces of his friends, he chose his words
carefully. “From the limited information that I’ve been getting,
and no, they aren’t giving even law enforcement the full story, the
ash cloud will be with us in varying stages for quite a while,
maybe even years.”


Years??”
the three said together.

Only John was not surprised, since he already
knew this. “What I recall from the video I watched before I came
down, the first stage is what we are in now. Those particles we
don’t want to breathe are heavier than the rest of the ash, and
should be the first to fall. They will be gone in a week or
two.”

“That’s right, however, after that moves
past, the higher cloud will circle the Earth until it dissipates,
and that could take a year or two,” Marty picked up. “I wish Doc
were here to explain it better.”

“In the meantime, it’s going to get cold,”
John continued.

“What do you mean
cold
?” Marion
exclaimed. “It’s July, it’s always warm in July.”

“The ash is going to block the sun,” John
stated flatly. “And not just here, not just us, everywhere.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

 

 

“I’m still hungry!” Max
proclaimed after their meager lunch of sharing one can of watered
down soup. The anger was obvious in his young voice.

“We all are,” Seth said, trying to sooth the
teenager. Never having children of his own, Seth was having some
difficulties dealing with the two teens in his care.

“I thought you said we had enough food to
last us as long as we needed!” Max accused Janis. “It hasn’t been
two weeks since we’ve been cooped up in here and now we’re almost
out of food? That really sucks.” He turned away and stomped down
the stairs to the basement.

“We should have listened to Trevor when he
told us to get more food,” Seth said softly.

“Oh, so now it’s
my
fault?” Janis
yelled, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“In a way, yes it is, Janis. He told us we
should have more, and I was ready to take us shopping again, but
you insisted we had enough!” The old preacher was tired of being
everyone’s scapegoat.

“But the government said this would be over
within a few days!” she wailed. “We had enough for a few days,
honest we did!” The tears now cascaded down her thin cheeks. “We
shouldn’t have eaten so much right away.”

“That’s true enough. We could have done a
better job of rationing,” he agreed. “What’s done is done. Now what
are we going to do?”

“I just wanted everyone to be happy,” Janis
sobbed, ignoring his question.

 

***

 

Max paced the short length of the basement,
his anger building along with his blood pressure. Even at
seventeen, he had severe mood swings that also brought on bouts of
very high blood pressure, something he inherited from his father,
that and anger issues. Unknown to Max and his doctors, a blow to
the head when he was a child had left him with an aneurism deep
inside his brain, another legacy from his absentee father.

Max felt something shift inside of him. That
aneurism had just burst. A light of such brilliance flooded his
vision that he had to blink several times to see again. The fear
that initially accompanied the flash of light subsided instantly to
a darkness of hatred – for everyone and everything. The first thing
that he set eyes on received an uncoiled onslaught of violence:
Dot.

 

***

 

Max wiped the bloody knife on the blanket the
puppy had been sleeping on. His breathing was harsh and shallow,
yet at the same time he felt a satisfaction from his violence that
was nothing short of orgasmic.

He heard Seth open the door at the top of the
stairs and grinned. The blackness surged upward again and he hid
behind the bottom door.

The cloying stench of blood assailed Seth as
soon as he stepped into the gloom.

“Dot? Where are you girl?” he called out to
his dog, stepping cautiously toward the pile of blankets where he
had last seen his puppy.

Max swung the large knife downward with fatal
accuracy, burying it deep in Seth’s neck, deftly severing the
carotid artery. Seth went down without a sound.

“Well, that’s two less mouths to feed now,”
he said joyously. He looked down at his bloody clothes and decided
to change, rationally thinking it would upset Janis.

The adrenaline rush from the kills jumped his
metabolism into high and he went up to the kitchen to find
something to eat.

Janis was upset and confused by the
confrontation with Seth and had gone to her room to rest. Her
fifteen-year-old mind didn’t know how to deal with such adult
feelings so it shut down.

 

***

 

Max found a box of crackers hidden in the
back of a cupboard, and happily sat at the kitchen table devouring
them.

“What are you doing?” Janis yelled when she
walked into the room.

“What does it look like? I’m eating, you
stupid bitch,” Max said, the anger rising again.

“Those aren’t yours! I was saving them!” she
screamed.

“Shut up!” he said and slapped her across the
face.

“You hit me… you hit me… you hit me…” she
said over and over.

“I said SHUT UP!” The darkness now consumed
Max. He clenched his fist and struck Janis hard enough to loosen a
few teeth, but that didn’t matter. As she fell backward from the
blow she struck the marble countertop and slumped to the floor, her
neck broken.

Max sat quietly at the table finishing off
the box of crackers with the last of the milk, calmly ignoring
Janis’ lifeless body. In a daze, he sat there, not moving, for
almost an hour. He blinked and saw Janis on the floor. Confused, he
picked her up and laid her on the couch as though she were sleeping
and went back to his basement room for a nap.

 

***

 

Doc Adams let himself in the front door with
his key and removed his mask. “Janis?” he called out when he saw
her on the couch. He touched her face to waken her, and felt the
coolness of her skin when her head flopped to one side. Finding no
pulse, he backed out of the house and called Chief Mallory.

“Marty, I need you here at Janis’ place right
away. I just found her on the couch, dead, with a broken neck,” Doc
Adams said. While Doc sat in his car waiting for Marty, Max came
out the front door and sat calmly on one of the rockers, a hunting
rifle across his knees.

 

***

 

“Th-there’s a problem at Janis’,” Marty
sputtered. “Doc says she’s dead: a broken neck.”

Marion gasped, her hand flying to her
mouth.

“What?” Trevor said in disbelief. “Janis is…
dead?”

Christine let out a sob.

“Stay here. I’ll be back when I can.” Marty
pulled his mask up and was out the door in a matter of seconds.

“I’m going too,” Trevor announced, grabbing
his mask off the table.

“Marion, lock the doors behind us and don’t
answer it for anyone! We all have keys!” John said to the
frightened woman.

Christine slid into the front seat beside
Trevor before he could complain, and John climbed in the back.
Trevor sped away only moments behind the chief.

 

***

 

 

Trevor parked the car behind a tree, one
house down from where Marty was now stopped at the curb. The three
of them emerged silently, leaving the car doors open.

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