The Journal: Cracked Earth (33 page)

Read The Journal: Cracked Earth Online

Authors: Deborah D. Moore

Tags: #undead, #disaster, #survival guide, #prepper, #survival, #zombie, #prepper fiction, #preparedness, #outbreak, #apocalypse, #postapocalypse

BOOK: The Journal: Cracked Earth
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“Who should I ask for when I get there? I
could be there in less than two hours.” I wrote down Captain James
Andrews on a slip of paper.

 

* * *

 

I know that Anna was startled when I rushed
out of the office. I couldn’t take the time to explain what was
going on and the possibility I was faced with.

I backed into the barn partway and started to
pump gas into the car from the nearly depleted drum. John had seen
me pull in, and came out to see what I was doing. When I told him
what was going on, and what I thought was waiting, he took over
pumping the gas and told me to do whatever I felt needed doing. I
scurried across the road to tell Jason we’d be leaving shortly, and
to keep an eye on the house. We’d be gone for several hours and he
needed to tend the fire for me. I didn’t want to say anything more
since I didn’t want to get his hopes up. It was enough that mine
might crash; his didn’t need that if I was wrong.

My hands were shaking so badly that I asked
John to drive. I didn’t trust my reflexes. He was well acquainted
with the route, having flown in and out of Sawyer Airport every six
weeks for the past two years. When we arrived, the place had a
whole new look of military presence. Barbed wire was back, topping
the chain link fence that the county put up, gray-green jeeps were
everywhere, soldiers hustled between buildings and a new guard
shack was added where there hadn’t been one before.

I gave the guard my name and who I was to see
while he looked over my Emergency Management ID. He glanced at
John, who maintained a stony face when I told the guard John was my
driver and my bodyguard. People seem to accept that for some
reason. The not-so-young soldier told me where I could park and
which building would have my contact.

“Why are you so nervous, Allex?” John asked.
He placed his hand on my arm to slow down my pacing.

“I don’t think this is so much nerves as
anticipation,” I said to him. My heart felt like it was going to
pound out of my chest. The Captain I had spoken with had been gone
for fifteen minutes now. I laid my forehead to John’s chest, for
comfort.

“Nahna!” I heard moments later and my
granddaughter Emilee launched herself at me from a full run. I
swept her up and hugged her as Eric reached us. I set her down and
turned to my oldest son.

“Hey, Mom,” he said with a very tired smile,
and folded me in his arms. The tears just poured. They were safe
and they were here! Eric looked over at John, eyebrows raised in
question. I reluctantly let go of him.

“Eric, this is John Tiggs, my—”

“Please don’t call me your driver and
bodyguard, not to this man,” John interrupted. He extended his
hand, which Eric grasped firmly, both of them grinning.

“John is my… everything,” I smiled at him,
sniffled, and dug in my pocket for a hanky. Cloth of course, paper
tissues were long a thing of the past. I slipped my arm
possessively into his.

That’s when Captain Andrews rejoined us. “I
think I can safely ascertain that you recognize Sargent First Class
Rush and his daughter.”

I grinned and nodded, unable to say much.

“Since Sgt. Rush was unexpected, coming in on
military stand-by, and unauthorized by the way, he’s been held in
custody until someone signs for the two of them. New statutes
prohibit crossing state lines unless there is someone on the
receiving end willing to vouch for, house, and feed a person. Will
you take full responsibility for these two people, Ma’am?” he
asked, holding out a clipboard to me.

“Yes, absolutely,” I replied. I understood he
had his formal protocol to follow. I took his pen and clipboard and
signed the release where he indicated.

Eric turned to the Captain and saluted, which
the Captain returned. “You’re very lucky, young man, not everyone
gets this far. If you will follow me, I will release your two bags
and escort you out,” said the Captain. He looked down at Emilee and
added, “And you, young lady, behave for your grandmother.” He
tapped her nose with his rough finger.

“Her name is Nahna!” Emilee replied with her
little fists on her skinny eleven-year-old hips, her chin stuck out
in defiance, which earned laughter from all of us.

My heart swelled to see how much she had
grown. Eric was up for a visit last summer, however, it’s been two
years since I’ve seen my first grandchild. She was nearly up to my
shoulder, and quite thin. I doubt she will be very tall, but maybe
she got her height early, like I did. I was five foot four at the
age of twelve, and only grew another inch. Emi’s eyes were the same
shade of light brown as her mother’s, with flecks of gray and
green. Her shoulder length hair was showing signs of the rich
golden chestnut it would end up, much like mine. Coincidentally, we
both had had our very long hair cut in October, donating to Locks
for Love.

I turned my attention to Eric, my first born.
He was now retired from the service, and still his fair hair is
worn military cut, and I can definitely see the shades of pale
brown and blond that it was when he was young. I did also notice a
few patches of gray, and wondered how new that was. Eric and Jason
were always such opposites. Eric was fair haired and blue eyed,
like his father; Jason dark haired and brown-green eyed like me.
Eric preferred the heat of Florida, Jason gravitated to the north
and the cooler climate, but looking at them together, there was no
doubt they were brothers.

Standing beside the car while John put the
two small carry-on bags in the back, I gave Eric another fierce
hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. Oh my God, I’ve been so worried
about you two!” The tears threatened again, but I did manage to
keep them in check. “What about Beth?” I whispered, not wanting Emi
to hear. Even though Eric and his wife had split up, I would have
taken her in without a second thought.

“Her job is very important, not just to her,
but to the entire county. She’ll be fine. She sends her love and
asks only that we keep Emi safe,” Eric said.

Beth had made captain in the Fire Department
last spring, after years being a paramedic, and worked hard now in
public relations and emergency management. She’d been a very
dedicated person for as long as I’d known her. She might not have
come, but at least I have these two.

 

* * *

 

We arrived at four o’clock to a pleasantly
toasty house, but John added more wood to the fire anyway. The
winds outside have been slowly building all day, and I think we’re
in for another blast of snow. Eric and Emi were understandably
tired and hungry, but when I offered hot showers before dinner,
they both perked right up. John refueled and started the generator
to pump the water, while I went over the basic water usage rules
with our two new house guests. Emi might be only eleven, but she
was quite mature and understood that rules had reasons and were to
be followed. Her parents have done a good job with her.

Emilee took her shower first and reveled in
washing her hair for the first time in almost a week, which was how
long their traveling took. Going by military stand-by was
slow-going and iffy to say the least. We gave her an extra five
minutes and she was one squeaky clean and happy little girl when
she came out of the steamy bathroom. In the last of her clean
clothes, she sat down on the futon and promptly fell asleep.

Eric’s shower didn’t last quite as long, but
he came out smiling.

“Oh, man, that felt good!” he sighed. “You
don’t know how to appreciate a hot shower until you can’t get
one!”

“Oh, yes I do,” John snickered and offered to
put their clothes in to wash.

Jason and Jacob would be over for dinner in
another hour so I quickly started putting dinner together. At first
I was going to do lasagna, but we were getting low on mozzarella
cheese and I wanted to save that for pizzas, which were fast
becoming a real treat. I decided on mock chicken parmesan, canned
chicken in a spaghetti sauce on fettuccini pasta.

 

* * *

 

“So where did you two go in such a rush?”
Jason asked while he was helping Jacob take off his boots when they
came over for dinner an hour later.

“Hey, bro!” Eric peered from the other room.
Jason’s head snapped around at the voice of his older brother. He
scrambled to his feet and the two brothers hugged fiercely. They
had always been close, being a bit over two years apart in age, but
I hadn’t realized how much they had missed each other.

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me?” Jason asked,
fighting his tears.

“I didn’t know for sure. The message I got
only mentioned a ‘package’. I thought it might be Eric when I was
passed our code-word, but I didn’t want to get
your
hopes up
too, in case I was wrong.”

Jacob had finished taking off his boots by
himself, and looked up at Eric. “I remember you, you’re Uncle
Eric.” He reached up for a hug. My heart swelled. Not all autistic
children shy away from physical contact, and Jacob is very
affectionate.

Just then a sleepy Emilee wandered into the
kitchen and spied her uncle and cousin, and rewarded us with
another big smile from her.

“And you’re Emilee,” Jacob affirmed, and gave
her a hug too. I think he sees he might have a playmate that is
more his size.

 

* * *

 

Although we all understood that Eric and
Emilee needed a few days of regular meals and much rest, we also
have to discuss practical matters, like accommodations, and
schooling for Emi.

“I would like you and Emi to stay here with
us for a few days,” I said to Eric. “After that, it would be more
practical for you to move across the street with Jason. Don’s house
is much bigger. Why they needed four bedrooms, I’ve never
understood, but it sure is convenient now.” I glanced over at
Jason. “Are you agreeable to them taking over the upper floor? With
its two bedrooms and full bath, it would be perfect.”

“Of course they can move in with us. Can you
get us some more textbooks from the school?” Jason asked. “What
grade are you in now?” he asked Emi.

“I’m in the fifth grade, but my teacher says
I’m smart,” she said, sitting up straight.

“I bet you are. Jacob is too, so I guess it
runs in the family.” I know Jason didn’t want to boast, but Jacob,
in only the 3rd grade, had surpassed 5th grade math already. Before
the event he was showing signs of having a photographic memory,
even at nine years old.

By the end of the evening, it had been
decided that Eric and Emilee would stay here for a week, and then
move over across the road. Jason would continue the home schooling
and include Emi in the classes, and I would try to get more books
in higher grades from the school in Moose Creek.

Eric would soon need something to do, too,
but that would be resolved when the time came. Meanwhile, I had my
family here, we were together and we were all safe. It had been too
long since I’d been this happy and content.

 

* * *

 

JOURNAL ENTRY: February 28

It’s the last day of the month. By all
accounts, it looks like March is coming in like a lion, so we
should have an early spring after all. I hope so, anyway. I am so
very tired of all this snow and cold.

Eric and Emilee will be moving over to
Jason’s this afternoon. Jason’s, yes. I have to stop thinking of it
as Don’s house, he’s gone. It saddens me, but it’s the reality of
this new life.

We’ve spent many hours, myself, John and
Jason, trying to fill Eric in on all the events of the past five
months so he understands the mood and attitudes of Moose Creek. New
attitudes born from devastating events, horrific attacks,
untreatable illness, and isolation, especially the isolation from
all we knew. And the deaths. Some of us will never get over the
losses.

In turn, Eric has relayed what he could of
what happened down in Florida.

 

* * *

 

“It isn’t much better down there, Mom. In
fact, in some ways, it’s been much worse. The gang violence is
rampant. The blacks, the Hispanics, Mexicans, Cubans, they’re
always fighting themselves or each other for territory or for the
limited resources. There are shootings, executions and arsons every
day, even in the best communities. Abby, Beth’s older daughter,”
Eric explained to John, “moved back in to Beth’s house to be with
family and for the protection of the better neighborhood and also
to protect her horse, Tint.” He paused, taking a sip of tea, trying
to maintain his composure. “In spite of the shooting lessons I gave
her, she was attacked one day when Emi was in school. Tint was
butchered in front of her, in broad daylight, and then Abby was
repeatedly raped. When Beth home from work that night, she actually
begged
me to bring Emi up here, where she was sure it would
be safer.”

It took them eight days to make the trip,
hopping one military transport to the next, moving northward in a
jagged line, while being questioned at every stop until Eric put on
his maroon beret and a jacket with his rank. Even retired, he
retains the rank of Sargent First Class. At one checkpoint, the TSA
tried to separate him and Emi, but the agent changed his mind
quickly when Eric grabbed him by the throat and Emi gave him a
karate kick to the groin. The biggest challenge came at Sawyer,
when they were not getting back on a flight. They needed proof of
family support to leave the terminal. They waited for almost three
days.

 

* * *

 

As a celebration dinner for Eric and Emi’s
move to Jason’s, we had pizza. I really wasn’t joyous about their
leaving here, but with so little good in our lives, a special event
of this nature needs acknowledging. The kids watched the movie
Ice Age
, which I avoided because of the reminder of what
smelled like an approaching storm.

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