The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) (16 page)

“Only a few survived? You mean the rest are…
dead?”

“I’m afraid so. Of the approximately 55,000
residents of Greenwood, we’ve lost over 5,000 already and the
numbers keep climbing. You were very lucky, Trevor. Very lucky
indeed. Be careful though, this virus is making a second go-around
and appears to be even worse. This flu is sweeping the nation, not
just here.” Doc Adams took his little black bag and left.

“Why didn’t you tell the doc what you’ve been
giving me, Christine?” Trevor asked.

“Marion said he doesn’t believe in natural
treatments, and he would likely think they didn’t have anything to
do with you getting better anyway. From watching you this past week
I think what Marion suggested helped you a great deal. And I’m
thankful for that.” She took his hand, holding it to her cheek. “I
was so worried about you, Trev, I was willing to do anything if it
might have helped.”

“Come here, you.” Trevor pulled her so she
was lying next to him. He kissed her deeply. “I’ve really missed
you.” She snuggled under the covers and sighed with
contentment.

***

The day dawned with blue skies, sunshine. and
by noon the temperatures were hovering at seventy degrees.

“Do you feel like taking a walk? We’ve been
housebound for over a week, and I for one would like to get some
fresh air,” Trevor said, enjoying a cup of coffee instead of
tea.

“I think that’s a great idea, though I think
we should limit ourselves to only a block or two. I know Holly has
missed her longer walks,” Christine agreed.

***

Two blocks from her house, Christine spotted
a park and found a bench for them to sit on in the sunshine. She
tossed a tennis ball for Holly, who joyfully took off after it.

“Notice anything strange about this park?”
Trevor asked, looking around. His long legs were stretched out in
front and his arms were casually resting along the back. His jacket
hung open slightly, exposing the gun he still wore. Christine saw
his weapon and tucked her elbow to her body, feeling the comforting
bulge of her own gun.

She looked around and tossed the ball again,
following the dog with her eyes. A swing moved slightly in the
gentle breeze while the other pieces of playground equipment sat
unused. “It’s empty except for us.”

“It’s Saturday afternoon, the weather is
perfect, and there’s no one out. I find that sad and a bit
disconcerting. Where are all the children? Are they sick, or worse?
Or are their parents afraid to let them out?” His eyes skimmed the
city-block sized park again. There was a fountain with no water, a
unisex restroom, the usual climbing structures and slides, and it
was graced with lush green grass in need of mowing. And it was
empty. “This park looks … lonely.”

Holly woofed her happy woof and Christine
looked up to see the dog greeting someone. At the distance, it was
impossible to make out features, although she could tell it wasn’t
a child. She waved, and the person waved back. Holly came bounding
back to the bench where her new masters sat, almost leading this
new person to them.

“Hello,” a young woman said, staying a good
twenty feet from them. She appeared to Trevor to be early twenties,
with long dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail, and a sad face.
Her clothes were neat and clean although a bit big on her, standard
now by the lack of food.

“Are you sick?” she asked.

“No, we’re not sick. I was, but I got
better,” Trevor answered, and she ventured a bit closer. “Are
you?”

“No. My parents caught the flu and went to
the hospital last week. I haven’t seen them since and the guards
won’t let me in. No one can tell me anything.” She looked down at
her feet and then over at Holly. “I’m lonely and… scared. My name
is Janis. Can I sit with you for a while?” Without waiting for an
answer, she gracefully lowered herself to the ground where she
stood, and sat. Holly sensed her sadness and scampered over to lick
her face. She giggled and hugged the dog, and then started
weeping.

“That’s Holly, and I think she’s happy to
meet you, Janis,” Christine said softly. She pulled a cloth hanky
from her pocket and offered it to their new friend. “I’m Christine,
and this is my fiancé, Trevor. We live a couple of blocks
over.”

Janis sniffled and wiped her face with the
hanky. “I’m sorry about this,” she sniffled again, “I’ve never been
alone before and it’s frightening. It’s like being trapped in a bad
disaster movie, ya know? The kind where you wake up and find
everyone gone.” Holly pushed her nose against the girl’s hand for a
rub. “Do you come here every day?”

“This is our first day out since I’ve gotten
over the flu. I think, though, that weather permitting, we might be
making it a regular stop. Would you like to meet us here again? Say
around noon?” Trevor said, squeezing Christine’s hand.

“Oh, yes, I’d like that. I would really,
really like that!” Janis replied. “Thank you.”

***

The next day at noon, the three met again,
and Janis played with Holly, tossing the tennis ball.

The following day, Christine brought three
peanut butter sandwiches, which delighted Janis, and Janis brought
a Frisbee, which delighted Holly.

Toward the end of their hour visit, an older
man walked into the park with his Dalmatian puppy.

“Good afternoon,” he said in a deep voice,
standing away from them much as Janis had that first day. “It’s
good to see someone out enjoying life. My name is Seth and this is
Dot. Not very original, I know, but fitting,” he laughed. Holly and
Dot ran off for a game of chase.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Seth.” Trevor
stood to shake the newcomer’s hand, as he’d been taught to respect
his elders. When Seth hesitated, Trevor lowered his hand. “We
aren’t sick. I caught the flu, but recovered. Christine and I came
to the park several days ago and met Janis. We’ve been meeting now
for a couple of days, just to have someone to talk to. Would you
care to join us?”

Seth smiled and nodded.

“I think some of us have a natural immunity
to this virus,” Seth said, mopping his ebony face with a red and
white bandana as the sun beat down on his bald head. “My wife came
down sick early on. I took care of her the best I could, but the
Lord took her anyway.” He took a deep breath before continuing.
“She was my island in these stormy seas and I miss her greatly. I
have yet to tell my congregation, but many are afraid to be with
others until this passes. She played the piano for our Sunday
services and often led the children’s classes.”

“Are you a minister, sir?” Janis asked, hope
filling her dark gray eyes.

“Yes, I am. It’s a small church downtown. I
don’t know if it will ever open again, however, I will always
remain hopeful. God will lead me where I need to be. He always
has.”

By the end of the week, the small group had
grown to six adults, one child, and three dogs. Noon had become the
focus for many, even on days when clouds threatened.

Janis stood suddenly at the sight of a police
car. “We haven’t done anything wrong, have we?” Panic laced her
shrill voice.

“Not that I know of, Janis,” Trevor said.

The scout car come to a stop and a lone
officer emerged. Trevor recognized Marty and waved. “Relax, he’s a
friend of mine.”

Chief Mallory walked up to the group of
people clustered around the single wooden picnic table. “Afternoon,
folks. Trevor, Christine. I’m glad to see you up and around again,
Trevor.”

“Hi, Marty. These are our neighbors and new
friends,” Christine said. “We’ve been meeting now for almost a week
at noon every day, just to talk and know we’re not alone.” She
looked over at Janis and smiled, then introduced everyone.

“I’m glad I was the one who came to check out
the complaint,” Marty said.

“Complaint?” Trevor echoed. “About us using
the park?”

“Someone, who is undoubtedly watching us
right now, called concerned about the ‘crowd of people’ having a
meeting of some kind here,” Marty laughed.

“May the Lord open their hearts and their
eyes, and perhaps join us,” Seth said. “We are open to anyone,
Chief, and we certainly are not up to any mischief. We just needed
fellowship.”

“I can see that, sir, and you are obviously
not breaking any curfews.” Marty touched the edge of his cap and
left.

The wind picked up and tossed some fallen
leaves around. The air was moist with pending rain and clouds hid
the midday sun. The group said their farewells and everyone went
home.

***

Christine turned the sound up on the TV. Her
favorite meteorologist, Matt Zika from the National Weather
Service, was giving the weather.

“
While relatively rare, tornadoes do occur
in southern Indiana in January.  There's been nearly 1,400
tornadoes in Indiana since 1961 and of them around thirty occurred
during the month of January.  There actually is a secondary
maximum for tornadoes that occurs during the winter months that
occurs in the mid-south,”
he swept his hand along a line
through Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, and Missouri.

“
The typical setup for the larger
outbreaks is similar.  A strong area of surface low pressure
develops in the Southern Plains and intensifies as it moves
northeastward towards the Lower Great Lakes.  Unusually warm
and humid air is drawn northward from the Gulf of Mexico ahead of
the low pressure system on strong southerly winds. Temperatures in
the Ohio Valley including Indiana can surge well into the 70s ahead
of the storm system.  When it is that warm and humid in that
part of the country in January, it almost always comes to the end
with some sort of strong to severe thunderstorms.

“
As the low intensifies, cold arctic air
is drawn southward from the Northern Plains on strong northerly
winds on the back side of the low pressure system.  The
collision zone between the very cold air - perhaps temperatures as
low as the 20s in January - and the very warm air surging
northward, with those temperatures in the 70s, will result in
thunderstorm development where the cold air is forcing the warm air
to rise violently upward. 

“
Since there is a lot more wind energy
available in the atmosphere in the wintertime, it doesn't take much
for thunderstorms to begin rotating, which then have the potential
to produce tornadoes.

“
An interesting note that, while it didn't
occur in January, the Tri-State Tornado that occurred on March 18,
1925 is still the deadliest tornado in U.S. history.  It was
on the ground for over two hundred miles from Missouri into
southwest Indiana. Six hundred and ninety-five people were killed
in that tornado alone. Let’s all hope that record is never broken.
The weather patterns we’re seeing right now could fuel some very
nasty weather, so if you do see anything please take shelter
immediately.”

“Did he say tornadoes?” Trevor asked.

“Matt Zika is usually pretty accurate,”
Christine murmured. “I’m scared, Trevor.”

“No need to be scared if we take
precautions.” He paced a bit. “Rather than get caught at the last
minute, I think we should get a safe area set up for us. Besides,
no one has spotted a tornado yet, so it’s only a possibility. I
know you have one, but I haven’t explored your basement. Let’s go
look.” He took her hand and she led him to one of the doors leading
off the kitchen.

The stairway was dark and ominous looking
until Christine hit a switch and flooded it with artificial light.
White walls reflected the bright lights and the deep blue Berber
carpeting muffled their footfalls.

“Wow, this is really nice,” Trevor said,
looking around at the mostly finished basement. The carpeting
extended throughout the large, empty room and a bank of shelves
graced one wall.

“My dad works alternating shifts in a mine
and often has trouble sleeping unless it’s pitch dark. He has a
second bedroom over there.” Christine pointed to another door.
“There’s also a full bathroom down here and a kitchenette behind
those louvered doors. Even though he has that room upstairs, he
really prefers being down here, where it’s quiet and he can be
alone.” She walked back to the stairs and turned on a bank of
switches, lighting the place up and chasing the darkness from the
corners. “What do we need to do first?”

“Not much from the looks of it,” Trevor said.
“Maybe we should bring all that food in. It isn’t exactly secure
sitting in the garage. It would be easy to access here, and if we
ever get stuck down here, we would be fine. I guess that’s the
first thing we should do.”

***

“I’m tired!” Christine dropped into one of
the wooden kitchen chairs. “I must have walked up and down those
stairs twenty times!”

“Yeah, me too,” Trevor agreed. “But
everything is downstairs now, or up here in the cupboards.”

“Anything else we should do?” she asked.
“I’ve never been in a tornado before.”

“Neither have I, although I’ve seen some
nasty weather. If the power goes out we’ll need lights. I know
there’s a flashlight in the bedroom, but do you have anything
stronger, like a lantern?”

“I don’t know. My dad has some camping gear
on those shelves, maybe there’s something there.”

Trevor stood in front of the high shelves. He
took down a box, looked in, and put it back.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” Christine
held up a Coleman lantern.

“Yes, that’s good. I’m glad it’s not the kind
that takes fuel. That might add fumes, plus make it too warm in
here.” Trevor set the lantern on an empty lower shelf and turned it
on. “Either the batteries are dead or there aren’t any.” Trever
pulled a panel off the bottom to find it empty. “No batteries,
which is good. Things shouldn’t be stored for a long time with the
batteries in them. Do you have any D-cell batteries?”