SURVIVING ABE: A Climate-Fiction Novel (16 page)

"You don't scare me . . . but the memory of you holding that shotgun on Jeff gives me a strong desire to stay on your good side."

"You think I have a bad side?"

"Good side as compared to a more assertive side."

"Good recovery.  Now go relax and finish your wine while I clear the table."

"If you insist, I think I will," Andy said as he left the kitchen.  He slipped into the same comfortable spot he'd found earlier, a rarity on a female-owned couch, in his experience.  Like male-owned couches, this not only fit his length, it did the job comfortably and came with a pillow.  The person that designed this couch had spent a night or two in the living room, he thought as he drifted off.

~~~

A short time later Jennifer found him asleep on her couch.  She sat down beside him, but he didn't move.  She leaned back against the opposite armrest from the one he leaned on and watched him sleep.  The chances of a man riding a bike from Seattle and ending up on her couch in Texas were slim.  To feel totally non-threatened by him surprised her even more.  The way he had appeared out of nowhere and given Jeff a brute-force tumbling lesson, and the easy way he had thrown her over his shoulder in the flood were intimidating displays of his strength; yet she felt completely safe around him.  She tenderly draped a blanket over him and went to her bedroom.

Message 1:
To the following recipients: Ethos@uscybercom, Duenna@noaa, Reeve@nsa

Better than expected initial results with electricity off to more than one million addresses, and the Internet suspended.  All effort should now shift to denying relief efforts.  Suggested targets include distribution hubs, Interstate highways, railways, and airport facilities.  Burn down the pillars of an unsustainable society.

From this point on communication will become impossible for us, as well as the rest of the world, because of the weapons we've released.  Make your way to the rally points previously set up with your teams and evaluate.  Further instructions by courier will be possible at that time if it is decided conditions warrant further stimulus from us.

A light rain started overnight, cleaning the air
, but doing little for comfort.  It remained hot with Amazon rainforest-like humidity aboard Robin.  The word "dryness" had reverted from a noun to nothing more than a doubtful concept days ago.

Just before dawn Tess climbed into
the cockpit with a cup of coffee to enjoy the quiet and to witness a new day breaking over the anchorage.  The bimini, a canvas cover over the cockpit, kept the rain off Tess while she used her binoculars to look for the pilings, and other landmarks, to determine if Robin had moved during the night.  She did that out of habit more than need; there had been no wind during the night of steady rain.  Satisfied the anchor held her in the same spot, her thoughts turned to the "list" of things she needed to do today.

F
irst, she wanted to get a handle on the current weather and the forecast of what to expect in the next 24 hours.  That would lead to her radio-net weather report, due shortly.  After she completed the radio broadcast she needed to decide what to do about the awning.  While the awning admirably accomplished its primary task of shading Robin from the sun, the web of ropes used to suspend it above the deck complicated her ability to move the boat, as well as move around on deck.  She felt she should take it down and then move beyond Eric's jurisdiction, in spite of his offer.  On the other hand, taking down the wet awning led to other kinds of issues, such as how and where to dry it before stowing it.  Mold lurked everywhere in this weather; after she checked the forecast she'd decide if avoiding a man, now, was worth dealing with mold, later.

At the navigati
on station, just to starboard at the base of the companionway steps, Tess took a seat at what she liked to think of as her command center.  From here she had two-way communication with most parts of the world, by using the same method used before the advent of the Internet and cell phones, HF SSB radio.  Of course, with a cell phone tower close by, things online went considerably faster, a purloined Wi-Fi connection faster yet, and she had the capability to find and connect to the Internet by all three methods.  However, this morning she could not access the Internet by any method.

Tess spent the next half hour trying to make radio contact with anyone, but the airwaves were constantly jammed as if the transmit button was being pressed by multitudes of radios.  Since the Chesapeake Bay is surrounded with military installations the jamming probably came from one of them, she guessed.

Deprived of the modern tools of weather forecasting she reverted to the ancient method of poking her head outside and looking at the sky.  Like it or not, the sopping wet awning needed to come down, or the thunderstorms she saw in the distance would do it for her.  She decided to loosely roll it and stash it in the head until it stopped dripping.  Then, a few days from now, when the cold front hit, she could spread it out in the cabin, turn on the cabin heater and dry it out.

What a terrible time to block communications,
she thought.  The approaching storm could prove to be the super storm that takes us by surprise if that jamming continues.  Her world shrank to fit within her visual horizons without the radio, still she had been forewarned and the time had come to get prepared.  First she would tend to the awning, and then she'd move Robin to a friendlier neighborhood.  The Creep in Chestertown, Eric on the Corsica, and a looming Abe had taken all the serenity out of being at anchor.  She wondered if it was just she, or had the whole world just gone nuts? 
Hard to tell without the Internet
, she decided.

For the second time Andy awoke to the tantalizing aromas of coffee and bacon, a dangerously addictive occurrence. Seeing Jennifer at the stove with a set of tongs in her hand could add to that addiction, Andy thought as he stopped in the doorway to watch.

The bright, yellow-tinted kitchen lights cut through the gray light of dawn, highlighting Jennifer's silver earrings against her tanned neck.  Wearing
a simple, white blouse tucked into a pair of snug, calf-length jeans, the universe seemed to revolve around her for a moment of his time, as he watched her shift her weight from one foot to the other, while methodically turning the bacon in the sizzling pan.

Jennifer
caught him watching her.  "Morning!" she exclaimed and smiled at him.  "You're even more colorful this morning."  She handed him a mug.  "You hungry?"

Andy considered her question
rhetorical since he was always hungry, and usually thinking about a menu for the next meal before finishing the present one.  He poured a cup of coffee and between swallows started to set the table with plates and utensils.

“Good m
orning, Jennifer, my apologies for falling asleep on the couch.  Not sure if it was the full belly or the comfortable couch that made me so sleepy."

"Might have been rescuing damsels in distress and carrying them through floodwaters that wore you out."

"Jennifer, it wasn't your weight I noticed while I had you over my shoulder.  Not to change the subject back to food, but this is a wonderful breakfast, thank you," he said after the first bite.

He thought about who was paying for all this food and felt a stab of g
uilt.  "Speaking of this food, it’s important to me to pay my way.  Once you get transportation can we swing by some place to refill the larder, on me?  Despite my appearance and being temporarily homeless, I do have a credit card in good working order, begging to be exercised," Andy said.

"We'll get that worked out, right now we're short-handed at the store with Kim taking the day off, so your brawn is more appreciated than your dollars."

"I’m yours to command, got any more coffee before we start?" As Andy refilled his cup at her direction his attention was drawn to the stove.  "Is that leftover bacon?"

"Fuel for your tank,"
Jennifer said. "We need to get going and meet the sun halfway, Dad should be here to drop off a farm truck I can use for a day or two."

Looking out the kitchen window
, watching the rain getting caught and carried by wind gusts, Andy listened to the echo of thunder before replying, "Looks like you are the only ray of sunshine in this part of Texas today.  Does your dad know that I've been staying here?"

Jennifer leaned over and looked out the window, "Here he comes now, you can ask him yourself.  Be nice though, I think that's a shotgun he's carrying."

Gus gratefully awoke to chilly
air and feeble light seeping in from the east.  Each time he'd gone back to sleep during the night, he had done it with some doubt of ever waking up.

The makeshift lean-to that he'd built over
the tent, now drooping with the weight of the night’s snowfall, had done its job.  It had protected his tent from possibly collapsing under the weight of the snow and had added protection from the wind, which had barely ruffled the tent last night.

The fire was out and cold
, even though he had been up often during the night to feed it.  After the exertion of getting dressed he felt a bit warmer, so he decided not to take time trying to rekindle the fire.  Building a much smaller fire in the Kettle proved easy and fast.  During his breakfast of rehydrated bacon and eggs he realized today would be the do-or-die day.  He decided to leave almost everything, making his pack as lightweight as possible.  Go light, make the pavement, and find help—or die trying.

In the immediate area around the boulders the snow was now
six, or so, inches deeper than last night, and it made walking exhausting.  The north face of the gully above the camp appeared to have a substantial stand of pinyon trees and looked like it had less snow on the ground than here. Due to the steep climb, getting to the top of the ridge would be an ordeal, but the easier walking on the windy, barren ridgeline gave him his only chance of making it to the pavement.

Ready to leave he took one last look at his tent pitched under the lean-to and gave thanks for the shelter; then
he started climbing. He slipped and climbed and panted in the thin air, feeling the strain on his lungs and muscles immediately.  Doggedly he tried to concentrate on anything else as he pushed himself, physically and mentally, up the sheer grade.

That bull was one magnificent creature; I'll alway
s remember the look in that big boy's eye when our eyes met.

Gus fell
.

Get up
!

Whe
n he turned to look at me it was a slow, curious movement, he didn't even sense any danger, at first.

Gus slipped.

Get up
!

That changed in a millisecond.  When his ears locked forward on me and his n
ostrils flared, I knew he knew.

Gus tripped.

Get up.

Seeing the muscles under his tawny hide start to ripple, watching him burst through that oak brush in one mighty lunge--damn, they're quick off the line those elk
—what a privilege to see that.

Gus stumbled.

Get up
.

S
panked his ass with that blunt!  One hell of a shot!  Then he just disappeared into that cloud . . . like a magician . . . a magical wapiti.

Gus collapsed.

Get up . . .

Ahh, fuck it
. Just lay here for a minute; I gotta catch my breath.  Too tired to think straight.  Can't believe this is really happening to me.  What a dumbass for getting caught in this shit.

GO . . . or die here.

Gotta make the top, so they can find my bones—probably just find my pack—coyotes’ll get my ones.

During a pause in the wind Gus
discovered he could see off both sides of the ridge; he had finally made it to the top.  He found a windbreak and took his pack off and dug out some food. An energy bar, some water and a few minutes to rest would be good, but he couldn't afford to waste any time.  He estimated it was around noon or maybe later; it had taken a long time to climb that ridge.  Now that the hard part was behind him, he had to do the long part on the ridgeline.

Con had spent much
of the night waking up to see if maybe dawn had arrived. When she opened her eyes and discovered some light seeping in from the east her first thought was—
Finally
.  Her second thought was about deep-freezer cold outside the sleeping bag, all the frost on the inside of the windows made the car's interior look like a freezer as well. She inched forward until she could reach the key and started the engine, then as quickly as possible scooted back to her warm spot next to Ela.

"
Just throwing another log on the fire?  Or, did we survive and it’s morning?" came Ela's muffled voice from somewhere beneath the bedding.

"
There’s light outside, if that’s what you're asking.  I’m not sure how bright it is because of all the frost on the inside of the windows," Con replied.

"
That’s from your snoring," Ela replied.

"Well, there is
that; and it being colder than a well-digger’s ass out there."

"
How do you know how cold a well-digger’s ass is, pray tell?"

"
It’s scientific, and elementary when you think about it.  Being down in a hole, in the dark, with cold water dripping on you.  It would chill your butt quickly, no?"

A muffled groan was heard.
"The first lesson of the day; keep rhetorical questions to self.  Check," Ela muttered.

"
You’re welcome! Thinking about making an appearance today?  It's hard for me to understand your muffled voice," Con said nicely, not having understood what Ela said.

A hand came out and waved around moment
arily, then quickly retreated.  "It’s cold out there!  Is the heater working?" Ela asked.

"
As well as an average politician on the hot-air scale," Con said trying to get a laugh from Ela.

"Well, turn it up to the
Presidential
level!" Ela said.

"
We’d need to roll down a couple windows at that volume. Would Speaker of the House work, do you think?" Con was determined to get Ela to laugh and start the day with a smile.

"That’ll do it!" l
aughed Ela.

"Truth hurts sometimes."  With her m
ission accomplished, Con changed the subject.  "Okay, I’m gonna go spit and see if it freezes before it hits the ground, bye."  The "thunk" of the car door shortly followed.

Ela
started shedding her bedroll cocoon.  By the time she had converted the car's interior for day-use, the heater was making progress and a couple of small, but growing, holes in the frost on the windshield let more light into the cave-like interior.

Con retur
ned to the driver's seat saying, "I don’t think even a well-digger would work in these conditions, my cheeks are numb."

Never one to
ignore an opening, Ela asked, "Which ones?"

"
Both, Miss Smarty Pants," Con replied reaching over and turning on the radio. "Use some of that intellect to gather intelligence on the anticipated meteorological conditions of our AO, that's Area of Operations, for you civilian types."

Con shut off t
he engine and heater fan, so Ela had a better chance of understanding the news from the radio.  Not too long after that Ela switched the radio off and turned to her mom.

"Because of some sort of interference I was barely able to make out what was said
.  Weather clearing, martial law, and stay home and off highways are the only news bits I'm sure I heard correctly.  Gesh, if we could find and get on a road and then get arrested, maybe we could have a hot meal."

"We might be the meal, if the wrong people stop us. 
The weather is starting to improve, maybe tonight, and tomorrow we can start looking for a way across the stream.  It should be smaller and iced over by then, now that the cold has set in," Con said.

"Are you surprised martial law has been declared?"
Ela asked.

"
Not a bit, but we both might be surprised how long it lasts," Con said.

"Under lockdown with my mom
. . . I hope you have lots of stories saved up to help us do time together," Ela only half-joked.  If her mother could keep a smile on her face and joke around in the face of danger, then she could too.  She'd keep it to herself for now, but remained suspicious that some—or all—of the attacks were part of the plan the gray-eyed man had described.  If so, they could be in even more trouble after the snowstorm.  When the shepherd culls the herd from 7 billion down to 2 billion, or two people alive for every five that die, maybe being stuck in the wilderness with her only living family member wasn't such a bad thing.