Twenty-four – Pompeii
Callie was thrown by the view. She turned away, trying to be strong, yet I could see she was catching her bearings and getting it together to move forward.
It was a shock to see, I instantly grew sick to my stomach and couldn’t move. Madison on the other hand seemed unfazed. Maybe it was all that she had been through, I didn’t know. I swore she also seemed enthralled.
“Look at them,” Madison said. “Look.”
“I am. I did.” I murmured.
The windows of the cars were blackened, it didn’t look like glass. Every car was covered in inches of that dark ash. Not only that, scattered everywhere, even on the hoods of the vehicles were large rocks.
The fine detailed features of the people were hard to see, their eyes, nose and fingers were undefined. Outlines of clothing were easy to make out. Some stood with their arms over their heads, some looked as if they cowered. They seemed like store mannequins, posed by God, then covered protectively, like a layer of clay poured over their bodies to preserve them for all eternity.
It wasn’t clay though; it was whatever fell from the sky. A different type of ash, it fell fast, covering them completely, slowing, and possibly even stalling any decomposition.
Callie led the way, walking slowly, through the maze of cars and people. “The cars all died at the same time,” she said.
At first I didn’t know why she said that, but as I stepped farther, I could see some cars had crashed into each other.
I was so grateful that the windows were blackened, that I couldn’t see inside. I didn’t want to look and see families, children. I focused on what was ahead. Six blocks of cars then the small town. It looked untouched. Then again, I was looking at it from a distance and through a dirty mist that acted as a Pleasantville filter, making everything seem black and white and fine from a distance.
“This is unreal,” Madison said. “Look at this man.”
I turned around to see Madison staring at one of the statue people. Clearly it was a man, his hand rested on the hood of the small car, while his other arm slung over the door.
“Madison, come on,” I called to her.
“I wonder what he was thinking,” Madison said. “Do you suppose he knew what was coming?” She reached for the man. The second her hand touched him, his corpse broke in two. The lower half, tilted and fell toward her and his top half, crumbled when it hit the ground. His arm remained on the door.
I screamed. To me it was horrifying.
Madison just looked at me.
Had she snapped? Why wasn’t she reacting?
“Get it together,” Callie instructed.
It took a few moments, but I did, then rushed closer to Callie. Madison trailed behind.
“Look.” Callie pointed down. “Footprints. Someone is here, or was.” She looked up to the sky. “Ash is still falling. I’m gonna guess they aren’t long gone if they left.”
“It’s a man,” I said. “Look how big that footprint is.”
When I said that, Callie stomped her foot next to the print creating an impression the same size. She glared at me.
“Okay a man or a big woman,” I said.
Callie moved on.
I stayed close to her. Eventually Madison caught up to us when we cleared the cars.
It wasn’t any better in town. Bodies were in the street, some lay, some kneeled. There was a coffee shop at the edge of town, and the window was only partially blackened. Inside, pressed against that window were at least six people. Hands and faces pressed against the pane that had a single crack in it.
“Thermal shock,” Madison said. “Or therma. No, wait, it’s thermal.”
“What are you talking about?” Callie asked.
“What killed them? Thermal shock.” Madison looked at me. “Didn’t you listen to Ruth? Maybe not. You may have been sleeping. Ruth told me about it.”
“Ruth?” Callie asked. “The older woman with you?”
“Yeah,” Madison nodded. “She is brilliant. She was a professor. Your peers would be smart to tap her for info. She’s a vat.”
“I remember her talking about suffocation,” I said. “Not shock.”
“Thermal shock,” Madison corrected. “She said when you’re so close that one of the surges of cloud will be like five hundred degrees. Instant death and while the body doesn’t burn, it causes like an instant rigor mortis. Look at the fingers curled up.” She pointed to the coffee shop window. “Bet their feet are pointed…”
“Okay. All right,” Callie stopped. “But which one…” She pulled out that map again. “It’s not on this map, the other one we marked for areas of a possible Yellowstone eruption. We’re in New Mexico, it could have been ash from Yellowstone, but it’s not close enough to burn these people out like this.”
“Is there a volcano in New Mexico?” I asked.
“Several. Small but some are considered active.”
“Jesus,” Madison gasped. “Did every volcano blow?”
“Starting to look that way.” Callie folded her map. “Now let’s see if we can find this person that has been walking in town.”
We followed the tracks as best as we could. Sometimes they disappeared within the rocks, but we’d spread out to look.
Several blocks in the right direction, Callie pointed to a second set of tracks. Not footprints but rather small wheels, they weren’t always visible. We followed them down a residential street lined with single story houses and sporadic mobile homes.
A stucco style home was down on the left and became clearer with each step. I imagined the stucco was once cream colored, but it was blackened on the west side. It was surrounded by a small fence and there was a tent set up in the front parking pad. A man stood there, he didn’t move.
To me, we had found yet another Stone Horse resident transformed into a present day Pompeii remnant.
“Wanna break this guy too?” Callie asked Madison.
“Oh, that’s so wrong,” Madison replied.
“Guys,” I spoke up. “He’s not dead.”
He must have been shocked when he saw us, startled to a standstill but then he lifted his hand and waved. I rushed forward at the same time he did.
One would have believed we knew each other. We didn’t. We had a common bond. Survivors in a dead, burned out world.
He embraced me with gratefulness. I could feel it in his hold. I didn’t even get a good look at him, I was too busy hugging the stranger.
After he pulled back, he squeezed my arms, the turned to Madison and embraced her. He repeated it with Callie, who looked like she was going to pat his head.
To us he was a find and I guess we were to him, as well.
My mind spun with a ton of questions. Who was he? How did he survive? Why was he camped out on a driveway?
We followed the tracks and found him. Now it was time to get to know him. We were stopping for the day anyhow. Hopefully he was safe. We’d find out soon enough.
TWENTY-FIVE – FORGET ME NOTS
He had a bandit style handkerchief over his mouth and nose so it was hard to see his face. His eyes had crow’s feet, so I knew he wasn’t young. He wore a knitted cap over his head and a hoodie covered by an open trench coat. All of which were dusted with ash.
“I swear,” he said. “I swear I thought everyone was dead.” He lowered his handkerchief. “Delvin, Delvin Newburg.” He shook all of our hands with enthusiasm. “It’s so good to see people.” He backed up and swung a hand back toward his tent. “I don’t have much. Can I offer you food, water, coffee?”
Callie shook her head. “We’re good. Thank you.”
Immediately, without saying anything, Delvin went into the open garage and pulled out lawn chairs, three of them for us. “Have a seat. They aren’t burnt. I got my camping stuff from the garage,” he said. “Thank God. Because I couldn’t go in the house. I saw… I saw they were in there.”