“My wife?” Carrington asked, puzzled but feeling better by the minute. “Where is she?”
“She’s working on the wall detail. Don’t get mad, she was dying to help. Ya’ll see her shortly, I’m sure. How ya feelin’, Doc?” The way he said “help” sounded like “hail” with a P on the end.
Carrington pushed himself out of bed, onto his feet. He felt pretty good, although a little weak. He smiled his answer.
After introductions, Bartholomew T. Witherstream, who offered to be called Tex—this was of course a lot easier to remember since it matched his drawl—gave him the grand tour of the town. It turned out Tex had been a subscriber to Carrington’s CMERI Bulletins, and he’d prepped the whole town. Four days before the Event, Tex had worked with the town’s police and council to start their contingency plan. When Carrington sent out his last Bulletin, the day before the Event, Laramie carried out Tex’s plan. They sealed up the historic downtown area and literally cut the electrical lines leading to the town’s center, along with many of those leading to buildings. That let them escape the fires when the first CME hit. They also collected food and water and now had storehouses of both. Since then, they had been shoring up their defenses, awaiting an attack they were sure would come any day now.
“Everybody’s got their duties an’ so far they’s all worked t’gether,” Tex went on, continuing the tour. “Y’see, becuz most of the buildin’s are brick an’ we disconnected off the grid, we were able t’avoid th’ fires.”
“What about outside of the downtown?” Dr. Reid asked.
“Well so far, they haven’t been a problem, but we expect that to change shortly when the food runs out,” chimed in Sheriff Ralf Peterman.
“Raff takes his s’curity serious as a heart-attack,” Tex added. “Tell Dr. Reid whatchu done.”
“Besides the walls, we’ve set up scouts who watch all four points of the perimeter for any incoming threat,” Peterman continued. “That’s how we knew you were coming.”
“So, what do you have as far as weapons go?” Carrington asked, sitting on a chair in front of the sheriff’s station, a few blocks from where the tour started.
“Nothing major, Doc,” said the sheriff, “mostly hunting rifles, a few Winchesters and a couple of assault rifles from the local store. Most everyone here has a handgun. But that’s it.”
“Yep, we didn’t plan that one too good, did we, Doc?” said Tex plaintively.
“Show me the railroad yard, ’cause I have a couple of ideas on that,” Carrington said as he stood.
“Sure, Doc,” said Tex, pausing briefly. “Hey, thar’s your wife, comin’ towards us right now.” Rat naow.
All their heads turned to a group of three people walking their way.
Carrington recognized instantly the woman they called his wife, even though he had been widowed for four years now. It was the woman he’d found on the side of the road. She had short cropped hair, a confident smile, and although a little dirty from work, and still a little puffy in one cheek, she looked beautiful.
“Hi, honey. So glad to see you’re up.” Melanie leaned over and kissed him on the lips, and then hugged him. “I’m Melanie, I’ll explain later,” she whispered in his ear, away from the others.
Carrington felt more light-headed than he realized. “Ahh, hi” was all he could think to say.
“Come with us Melanie, if y’ain’t too tired. I was jus’ ’bout ta show the doc our railroad. He says he has an idear about defense.” Tex ushered them forward.
“Why not, Tex, I would love to.” Melanie took Carrington’s arm and they walked together, following Tex as they whispered their stories to each other.
Part II
40 Days A.E.
“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.”
“Albert got it wrong—World War IV will be fought and won by those who found all the leftover guns.”
20.
Revelations
Bill King found himself alone on their pool deck, a wide-brimmed straw hat shading his face, staring blankly into his own abyss. The bright sunlight didn’t bother him as much as this morning’s dark realization. It was almost certain Lisa and he would never see their youngest children, Danny and Darla, ever again. He leaned over the front of one of their two Adirondack chairs, his only support after a bout of tears. The sea winds, thick with humidity and ruination, anxiously grabbed at his muddled-gray hair, yanked at his Hawaiian shirt and partially clean shorts, and threatened to topple him with little effort. Struggling to even lift his head and see the new realities of this world around him, he realized this was no longer a place of solace.
The blazing sun had already scorched all hue from the morning’s normally blue sky, making it look almost overcast. Recently, the auroras seemed to provide the sole source of color, and then only at night. He pondered how quickly his beach paradise had changed. Only a few days ago, this place had filled him with such pleasure; now it was the realm of peril and death. Reminders were everywhere. The hulking carcass of the beached cruise ship remained unchanged, although it seemed bigger and appeared to have listed some. It was destined to remain for all eternity, a monument to all those who once played on her decks and in her galleys. The bodies of their four neighbors were gone the morning after it beached, most likely carried out by the high tide. Yet, he could see them in his mind’s eye as if they were there now.
Each day, more and more dead birds fell from the sky and fish washed up on the sand. It was now a giant caldron of rotting seafood, a silent dinner bell to dozens of locals, a smattering of small birds, and the hordes of feral dogs. Each day, they would come, all hurriedly carrying away what they could from the beach, intuitively aware that death visited this place often. What remained baked in the summer heat, made more intense by the radiation carried by each day’s solar storm. The acrid odor affronted his senses and made his eyes water. The fish were almost certainly being electrocuted, but the birds were another matter.
Before the Event, the sand, sea, and sky were alive: massive carpets and curtains of undulating birds in constant motion. Each fished, fought to secure its food, or screeched its displeasure to anyone or anything that encroached upon it space. Now, all the larger birds were gone, from sea gulls and pelicans to the less common crested boobies and herons. Nearly all were voided from the beach, except those few who found permanent respite there. Bill witnessed first-hand the effects of electrically induced charges from the CMEs on many birds in flight, especially the larger ones. It was some sort of disruption to their internal radar systems. Over the first ten to twenty days, the birds provided a good barometer to each subsequent CME. Their typical V-patterns or individual soaring would look normal enough. Then, without warning, all would stumble in mid-air, each punched in the gut by some invisible fist. Loud cries of pain and confusion would flood the skies. Most would seem to regain some control, but then it would happen again, this time taking all their fight away. Their wings would flutter feebly, offering no resistance to gravity. Losing all lift they would fall from the sky, crashing into the sand, the water, or nearby beach houses, often causing substantial damage. It was as though they decided they were through providing flying demonstrations to the humans and simply gave up. But now, they were all gone. Perhaps they were all dead. What other explanation was there?