Ashfall (3 page)

“I’m sorry. That sucks.”

The radio crackled again. “Look, I’m not some guy who’s hung up on what other people think. I don’t give a damn. But I don’t waste my time now on friendships with people who find that part of my heritage offensive.”

“I understand.” Courage and curiosity took her a step farther. “While we’ve got that out in the open, how old are you?”

He laughed, and the smooth, sexy sound stirred sweet longing inside her.
Wow.

“I’m thirty-five,” he said.

“Good. I’m thirty. I don’t date men that are too young.”

He chuckled again. “Are we dating?”

Heat filled her face.
Damn and double damn
. “I…I didn’t mean dating. I mean—”

“Conventional dating doesn’t work anymore, right?”

“No.”

“Good. But you haven’t told me anything about your family.”

That stopped her cold. Here she was picking his brain, but the idea of telling this man her identity made her nervous as hell. “No, I haven’t.”

“RomWriter148, it’s only fair after what I’ve told you.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Okay, here’s my rules. I show you mine, you show me yours. That’s the way I roll.”

She could have signed off and never talked to him again. Maybe, in the instability of life these days it made sense. No entanglements. Nothing to connect her to another human being. Not when she could lose them in a heartbeat to the violence outside this compound.

“I don’t know who you really are Rescue248,” Mally said softly. “What if you’re a…nutcase? A serial killer.”

He made a sound that was halfway between a scoff and a laugh. “Okay, I get it. I understand. Trust me. I’d never hurt you.”

Liquid with slightly more of the south, his voice rasped over her senses. She yearned for more reassurance. But she jumped off the bridge and took the chance.

“My name is Mally Andretti. My father was Damian Andretti the geologist.”

“Holy—” He cut himself off. “
That
Damian Andretti?”

She hung in suspense, wishing she could see his face and could gauge his expression. “Yes.”

Again the line crackled and was silent, so she broke the quiet. “I know. Don’t say it. Damian Andretti, the crackpot scientist. The CEO of Geophysics Labs who was born from money and built a compound in a small town Maine. Who was so eccentric and had so many weird theories about the end of the world he drove my mother away and they divorced.” Tears formed in her eyes, and the unexpectedness of her own reaction threw her off. She wiped at the moisture with impatience. “He practically drove me to my grave, too.”

He would know her mother’s story, too. How she’d slipped in the tub when Mally was eleven, and Mally found her dead. Everyone knew that story.

“Damn,” Rescue248 said softly. “I’m sorry. Your father was…eccentric, but he was right about the end of the world thing, wasn’t he?”

“Not exactly. He didn’t have it all right.”

“Enough of it. He told us the volcano would blow. He just didn’t know when.”

Rescue248 didn’t say anything about what her father did
after
he’d made the prediction ten years ago. It didn’t erupt, and then he predicted the eruption every year after that. Her companion on the radio didn’t mention that her father had turned into a Christian fundamentalist with the idea that if everyone followed the one true way the eruption wouldn’t happen. He’d moved them from Bangor while she was in high school and built this compound and bunker. Year after year his mind became more and more deranged. When Mally was in college getting her bachelors in history, ready to be a teacher, he’d totally flipped. He’d been institutionalized and when he died five years ago she’d inherited his huge estate and the money with it. And all the problems.

Maybe radio dude thought it would make her angry to talk about her father, or that it was too sad and pitiful to mention. He shut up, and she didn’t know what to say. What to do.

“Perhaps now you don’t want to know me,” she said.

“That sort of thing doesn’t matter to me.” His voice went soft. “You’re not your father.”

“How do you know? I could be as nutty as he was.”

He chuckled. “Okay, I suppose you could be. But I’m a pretty good judge of character and you haven’t said anything to lead me to believe you’re a whack job.”

She laughed this time. “Yeah.”

“Hey, I hate to cut this short but I’m supposed to attend a meeting in less than ten minutes,” he said. “Talk same time tomorrow? I’ll be on time.”

She didn’t want to rely on that. “Sure.”

“Take care, all right?”

“You, too.”

After they signed off, she wondered if that was the last time she’d talk with him.
And he didn’t give me his name.

The water flowing through her kitchen tap came out murky, and Mally stopped rinsing the mug. She washed one mug and one dish a day. Not that she didn’t eat three meals a day, but she didn’t see much point in rotating the dishes to prevent wear and tear. Even though she could have used grandmother’s old china in the cabinet, it seemed sacrilegious. Post apocalypse many things seemed frivolous. Overtly ostentatious. This huge house unnecessary. She was one person among a mall-sized labyrinth of bedrooms, an enormous kitchen, living room and other useless rooms. With power and water—maybe—while others did without.

“Shit,” she said out loud and turned off the water.

She’d have to use bottled water from the bunker until she determined why the water system suddenly wasn’t cleaning ash residue. She dried her hands on a thick hand towel and hurried to the bunker. After opening the mechanical room, she discovered the first problem. Water leaked from somewhere. Everything she needed for long-term survival operated from this big room. Electricity, the heating and cooling, air filtering, water filtration…all of it was in here and now the water system was freaking out. She had bottled water up the yin yang that would last years. Didn’t mean she wanted to use it for personal hygiene.

After three hours of working on the system, she groaned threw in the towel. Father had taught her how to repair most everything in this place but she couldn’t get this to work right. Worry crawled around inside her.
Damn.
She had to locate someone who could fix this. She dropped a wrench back into the tool box. She closed it, left it in the big room and retreated down the hall to the bunker living room. The clock on the stove and microwave said it was three o’clock in the afternoon.
Crap
. Rescue248 may have called but she couldn’t hear the radio from the room where the system was located.

She sank down on the couch in the bunker and flipped on the TV. Once more the news bombarded her with devastation and death. So many people were trying to leave the U.S., and newscasters predicted that soon Mexico and Canada would close their borders. Mexico, Canada, and other allies had their own problems created by the super volcano’s effect on the world. No one was getting out of this completely unscathed. The worldwide economy was crashing, and a depression would soon follow. There was a quick mention of some riots on the streets of Buckleport, and she wondered if Rescue248 was working to help contain them. Other news rattled across the screen, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed the remote off the coffee table. She stayed in the bunker and after rolling this knowledge around in her mind, she fell asleep on the couch, the television still running. In a bizarre dream, Rescue248 was an insanely ugly man, and she cared for him anyway. Looks didn’t matter…only affection did. In the dream she kissed him, glad for his help and companionship. The radio crackling woke her up, and so did the sound of Rescue248’s voice.

Relief steadied her breath, and she hurried into the office and fell into the chair. She snatched up the handset. “Rescue 248 this is RomWriter148.”

“Hey there. Damn, you’re going to think I’m the most unreliable bastard on the planet. I’m hours late this time.” His voice sounded brittle, as if his attempt at humor was failing miserably.

Relieved to hear his voice she said, “I was working on my water system, so I wouldn’t have heard if you did try to call. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I heard on the news about the riots.”

“Yep. It’s a mess out there. I’ve been with my team all day guarding buildings. Couldn’t get back here to contact you.”

“What? No special high tech phones?”

“None that I can use to call you without getting my ass chewed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Listen, there’s something I need to tell you. These riots will get worse before they get better. You live in that secure compound over on the north side, right?”

She absorbed the realization that he knew her location. “How did you…never mind. You’ve got access to government records, don’t you?”

“Yeah. There’s a lot of information on your father. The government didn’t like him much, did they?”

“They considered him a threat because of the stupid letters he used to send to them about Yellowstone or Long Valley erupting. As if he was a mad scientist and could cause the volcanoes to erupt.”

“Who’s laughing now, eh?”

She snorted softly. “No one. I hate that he was right.”

“Only partially right. Unless you believe his religious dogma.”

“No.” She said the syllable firmly. “Never that.”

“We need to get you out of there. ASAP.”

Taken off guard, she asked, “What?”

“You need to leave that place.”

All her alarm bells went off. “Why?”

“I realize your Father built a fortress, but there are people who will get in, and unless you’ve got an army living in there, you don’t have enough protection.”

“How do you know what I have in here? I could be hiding a tank.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you probably could in that place. Look, what do you have for protection?”

Suspicion twisted inside her, and she hated that. She wanted to trust this man. “I don’t think that’s any of your business, nor should we be discussing it on an open frequency.”

“Fair enough, but do you honestly think you have a chance alone if some serious bad asses decide to storm the place?”

“Father knew what he was doing when he set up this compound.”

She heard talking in the background and couldn’t make out the words.

“Seriously, RomWriter148. Do you have weapons?” he asked.

“Yes. Firearms, steak knives, harsh language. The entire works.”

“Damn it, I’m trying to be serious. I don’t like that you’re alone.”

His concern was surprising, although she imagined any decent human might worry for another in dire circumstances. “I’m fine here. I have enough to last me a long time. The riots won’t go on forever.”

“Do you also have training in hand-to-hand combat?”

Her father had seen to it that she knew basic self-defense, but she wouldn’t exactly call it combat training. But she also didn’t have to let him know that. “Yes.”

He grunted. “Good. You might need it.”

“My most immediate problem is that the mechanical room has sprung a leak. Water is coming out brownish or grayish.” She clapped a hand over mouth as the words escaped. Hadn’t she just spouted off about open frequencies? She was an idiot.

“Ash deposits getting into the water maybe.”

“Do you know anyone who could come and help me?”

“Actually I do. One of the guys who works here is crazy talented with fixing things.”

“Could I pay him to come and help me out with this before the mechanical room floods?”

“He’d do it for free.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” He switched gears. “Mally, the situation isn’t getting any safer. Things are starting to calm down today, but some seriously messed-up people have moved into our little city. I think you should consider coming to our garrison where it’s safer.”

“This compound is very safe. I can wait them out.”

“Can you? A few locals, even if they are a minority, have advocated the wealthy giving up all their worldly goods. Including money.”

Her stomach dropped again. “I’ve given half of Father’s money to charity over the last few years. More than half. I’ve given funds to disaster relief…especially this one.”

“Yeah but these crazy-assed idiots think people with a lot of funds should just turn it all over. It doesn’t matter that you’ve already given away a sizable amount. They want it all for their own reasons. Like buying weapons. They want an excuse for violence. Things will turn uglier.”

Fear crept higher, and she hated that she was allowing it to shake her. “So you’re saying I’m a sitting duck even here?”

“Possibly.”

The doorbell rang.

She started. “Holy crap.”

She froze for a full ten seconds, shocked. No one had rung that doorbell in…well, forever.

“What’s wrong?” Rescue248 asked.

“Doorbell. That means someone breached the gate. Why the hell didn’t the alarm go off for the gate?”

“Shit,” he said.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Hey, wait!”

The doorbell rang again. Mally rummaged in her father’s old desk where she kept the Glock he’d taught her to use many moons ago. Hell, he’d taught her to use more than that. One room in the bunker was a damned arsenal, but she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She rushed upstairs to living room and the video feed next to the front door that showed who stood on the front porch. Decked out in a bright red jogging suit was Creepy Guy, packing some series heat in the form of a semi-automatic.
Oookay. What the hell?

People hadn’t visited Father in his last few years here. They’d avoided him. Avoided everything about the eccentric—fucking crazy they’d said—man who predicted the end of Earth as they knew it. Yet it shouldn’t have surprised her that this guy had decided to turn up. He pounded on the large steel door, and this time sheer rage furrowed his brow and curled his lips. She flipped the sound switch under the video screen.

“Hey lady, I know you’re in there! Come out here and pay restitution.” He hammered the mesh screen door with his fist. “Heard they’re making all the rich bitches like you pay up for your sins. ‘Cause its bitches like you that made this volcano shit happen. Your father once said all the sins of the world would bring this upon us!”