The Journal: Cracked Earth (32 page)

“Allexa! Good to hear from you. I have to
tell you, your little town has caused quite a stir here,” Tom
laughed when I called to thank him for the provisions.

“Oh? Why? For defending ourselves?” I know I
sounded a little snarky, but I was still hurt that Bill Lacey had
hung us out to dry.

“Well, honestly? Yes. The Sheriff’s office is
taking a lot of flak for not stopping that crew before they headed
your way. You did what needed to be done and without hesitation.
The word on the street is that the locals here have new respect for
the people of Moose Creek. You might even get a float in this
year’s Fourth of July parade.”

“We’ll see when July rolls around, Tom. I
can’t even think that far ahead. The reason I called, though, was
to thank you for the recurring food delivery. That means a great
deal to me, and it means survival for Moose Creek.”

“Are you sure you won’t—”

“No, my place is here, Tom. You of all people
should understand that now.” I hung up on him this time, before he
offered me a job again.

* * *

John surprised me this morning by wishing me
a Happy Valentine’s Day and presented me with a handmade card. He
made me potato pancakes for breakfast, one of the few things he
says he does well. They were indeed excellent. I know that I’ve not
been very good company for him this past week. With all that’s
happened— the shootings, the deaths, the funeral and burial— I’ve
been in a daze. He’s been so very sweet and patient with me.
Perhaps I can make it up to him later. Tonight.

* * *

JOURNAL ENTRY: February 15

John and I strolled over to David’s with a
box of food from the recently resupplied food pantry and a can of
gas from the grateful town of Moose Creek for his warning about the
Wheelers. There’s no telling what would have happened if we hadn’t
known and been ready for them. The thought sent shivers up my
spine. We listened to the ham radio, picking up bits and pieces of
news, and I took in the changes in the house. Gone were the dirty
floral sheets covering the furniture, no dishes were stacked in the
sink, and I’m thinking they removed some of the carpeting, but I’m
not really sure about that, all I know is the smell is gone. It’s
amazing what having water will do, that and knowing someone cares.
We live surrounded by lakes, yet the water isn’t that easy to come
by.

More news confirms that most large cities are
cesspools to live in. Martial Law is the norm and most law
enforcement agencies have had to be augmented from the local
population. The corruption that has infiltrated the ranks runs
rampant. The politicians are so far removed from the man on the
street that they don’t have any idea about what is really going on.
They likely don’t
want
to know. It appears that the
political corruption hasn’t changed much.

One item of good news is that power is slowly
being restored to the smaller towns and cities. I felt my pulse
jump a few beats when I heard that. I wonder if there really is a
chance we will have the electricity turned back on in the near
future. We will have to survive until then.

* * *

With a slightly better attitude than I’ve had
in days, I ventured into Moose Creek to see how the town was
handling all that has happened. I was surprised, and yet not, to
see it was business as usual. People were walking around, Fram’s
was still open for a few hours each day for hardware or the weekly
gas allotments, notices were posted, and the township hall was back
to being the hub of activity.

“Good morning, Allexa!” Karen greeted me
cheerily.

“Well, you’re in a good mood,” I said. Her
upbeat mood was contagious.

“I am! My work just got a lot easier,” she
said. “With all the weapons confiscated from the Wheelers, and
especially the thousands of rounds of ammo, we no longer have to
depend on our own reserves. They were beginning to get severely
strained. Plus, our new deputy is down at the Big Guppy supervising
the replacing of the logs. I might be able to take a real lunch
break!”

“Whoa! What new deputy? And what about the
logs? I thought Danny had already moved them out of the way.”

In fact, I knew he had moved them. It was the
only clear route, and was how Ken had taken the bodies to town and
the food truck had gotten up here.

“What have I missed?”

Karen grinned. “We deputized Lenny Bagget
yesterday. He’s going to work out great. I can’t believe we
actually suspected him of those fires.” She shook her head in
disbelief. “He’s eager to do even the crappy jobs, like organizing
the mess Danny left.”

The dozen logs Danny had put in the path of
the Wheelers were dragged out of the way when they were no longer
needed, and then haphazardly piled to the side. After further
discussing the situation, it was realized that if those logs were
needed again it would take twice the time to move them with the way
they were now since they looked like a bunch of giant pickup sticks
with bark. By making two piles, one on either side of the road, and
arranging them in a 3-2-1 stack, replacing the barricade would take
only half the time. We were well aware of how valuable a few
minutes could be and what a difference it could make to our
safety.

“I will be sure to congratulate Lenny the
next time I see him,” I commented. Things were taking on an
interesting slant in our little town.

I wandered over to the Stone Soup Kitchen to
put in an hour of volunteer work. Several ladies were working on a
new batch of stew since someone had brought in fresh meat. A few
men were there too, moving tables, sweeping and staying busy. Since
I felt that I wasn’t needed there, I went home.

The days seem to just slide on by. We have all
lapsed into our own routines that see little change and even less
variation. John hauls wood, I bake and cook, Jason shovels snow,
and we all pitch in giving lessons to Jacob.

Jason is about to make the move across the
road. I still don’t like it. Jacob has been over there several
times with Jason while he checks everything over and keeps it
heated. The little guy is excited about having his own room again
and I’m letting him take most of the toys that I’ve had here for
him. I will keep a few here. The school supplies go with them too.
After all, I stocked them for Jacob.

* * *

Several guys from town showed up this
afternoon with the flatbed truck and the township backhoe to dig
out the eight silent four-wheelers. I will be glad to see them
gone. They are too much of a reminder of sadder days.

“Hey, Pete, come to take away my road junk?”
I laughed as I walked up to the busy crew. Some days I have to
laugh to keep from crying.

“Well, yes and no,” he said.

It was good to see him smile. I know that he
must still be feeling the pain from his mother’s death, though hers
was more natural and expected, and Don’s was neither.

“I’m guessing you will tell me what that
means, Pete.”

“Once we have all of the machines freed,
cleaned off and started, you get to take your pick of one to keep.”
I was startled into silence. “And Jason gets one, and so does
David. The rest we’ll load up and take back to Moose Creek.”

“Why?”

“A gift from a grateful township.” He looked
almost hurt that I wasn’t overjoyed.

“These machines aren’t the township’s to give
away, they belong to the dealership they were stolen from,” I
insisted.

“Not anymore, Allexa. Anna will explain it
better when you go into the office, but the dealership has given
the township the machines,
all
of them, as a thank you for
ridding the county of those renegades,” Pete said with delight. My
guess is he gets one of these too.

Well, they will certainly be better on gas!
Now to pick one. I think I’d better confer with John and Jason; I’m
likely to pick one because of the color.

* * *

Once that decision was handed off to my two
guys, with my preference voiced, I made I quick trip to talk with
Anna.

“Pick out your new ride yet?” Anna asked when
I arrived at the office.

“Yeah, the one with the camouflage paint job,
provided they can get it started.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” Anna
chuckled.

“Why didn’t you warn me? You know I don’t
like surprises like this,” I scowled.

“Why haven’t you been in to the office in,”
she glanced at the calendar, “five days?”

I dropped into the seat across from her
instead of the chair at my desk. “Permission to speak freely,
Ma’am?”

“Why ask permission now? You’ve always spoken
your mind.”

I looked down at my trembling hands. “I don’t
know how much more I can take, Anna. I really don’t. I feel like
I’m being torn apart inside. I’m exhausted all the time and I’m not
thinking clearly. See? I didn’t realize that it had been five days
since I left the house.” I took a deep breath. “I feel like I’m on
the edge of tears half the time and that’s certainly not a good
professional image to project!”

“I see you’ve lost more weight. Do we need to
increase your rations?” she asked.

“No! No more food! I just don’t have much of
an appetite anymore,” I confessed.

“What else is going on, besides the obvious?”
she asked, genuinely concerned.

I leaned back in my chair, not knowing how
personal to get. “Jason is moving out. He’s going over to Don’s
house. I don’t know if John loves me or is staying with me for the…
benefits. I haven’t heard from my other son in Florida since this
all started, and the worry is tearing me apart.” My voice cracked;
I couldn’t help it.

“I know what you need! A vacation!” she
exclaimed and I started to laugh. I laughed until I sobbed. “First
you need to read this,” her voice gentled. “A communique from
Sawyer Air Force Base routed through Tom White.”

On Jan. 24, 1955, the United States
government signed a
99-year
lease
with Marquette County. Almost immediately,
construction of military support facilities began and K.I. Sawyer
AFB was a reality and became an important part of Marquette County
infrastructure. K.I. Sawyer Air Force Base was decommissioned in
1995 as a military facility, but had operated for nearly forty
years, and was a major employer in the county. Its closure meant
the loss of hundreds of jobs, both at the base and the filter down
jobs. It was re-purchased by the county and the new county
airport,
Sawyer
International
, took over and now occupies a portion
of the base and has, or did have, scheduled airline flights and
some general aviation activity. During this crisis, most domestic
flights were curtailed, and limited military flights were resumed.
The joke around the county for years was we had commuter planes
landing on airstrips that could land the space shuttle, overkill to
say the least.

To have a direct communique from there was
curious, disturbing, alarming and hopeful. The message that was
faxed over was already two days old, having had to wait until
someone was at the office to turn the generator power on. The
message was also maddeningly brief: just to contact them about a
package that had arrived.

I called Tom White immediately. No answer. I
called Dispatch and asked where I could find him, only to be told
he had gone home for the day. I was happy for Tom that he went
home, but it also meant that I would have to wait a day to find out
what Sawyer wanted with me and what this package was. The last
package I received were batteries. I doubt that’s what this package
was.

* * *

When I arrived home, there were three cleaned
off four wheelers sitting in the driveway. The camouflage painted
one which I had tagged for myself, a hunter green one, and a deep
blue one, all of them with the bells and whistles that would
delight those that could afford such toys. At the time, I didn’t
know that David had already been given one, and these three were
ours. Even John got his own set of wheels for his part in our
town’s violent history.

The snow on the shoulders of the road had
been greatly disturbed, but the rest of the machines were gone. I’m
still not sure how I’m going to feel riding a machine that had been
used to wreak such havoc on our quiet community. There was still no
word on what had happened during the rampage to the south of here.
What damage and death the Wheelers had left behind may be never
fully known.

John came out when he saw me pull in, I think
so it wouldn’t be a surprise to walk into an empty house. For the
brief time I’d been gone, they’d been busy moving Jason and Jacob
across the road. The house was indeed quiet and empty.

* * *

“What is this about Sawyer, Tom?” I asked
when I finally got him on the phone. I’d been calling him since
nine o’clock, dialing non-stop until he picked up twenty minutes
later.

“Good morning to you, too,” he replied.
“Someone has landed with a military clearance, looking for
you.”

“Me?”

“Yes,
you
, by name. He also gave what
he calls a password,” and Tom told me what this ‘someone’ said. My
heart almost stopped. Very few people knew what I used as a secret
verification word, only close friends and family: Tufts.

“Where is this person now?” I managed to
squeak out.

“They’re being held at Sawyer. Does this mean
anything to you?” Tom questioned.

“They?” my heart did a double trip. Could it
possibly be? “Yes, it means something.”

“Then I think you should make a trip down to
Sawyer, Allexa. Conditions there aren’t what they use to be, though
it
is
very secure.” I could hear Tom shuffling papers
again.