Read The Journal: Ash Fall Online
Authors: Deborah D. Moore
Tags: #prepper survivalist, #disaster, #dystopian, #prepper, #survival, #weather disasters, #Suspense, #postapocalypic, #female lead, #survivalist
“Nahna, Dad did the funniest thing this
morning,” Emilee said. “He made a litter box for Chivas on the
porch! Instead of sand, he filled it with grass. He dug up some of
the lawn. Good thing my Mom isn’t here, she’d have a fit if she saw
that!” she giggled.
“He made a litter box for the dog? This I
need to see.” I followed Emi up the stairs where I saw a two foot
by four foot box that looked about eight inches deep, filled with a
layer of freshly harvested chunks of lawn, and it dawned on me how
useful that would be.
“I think your dad is a very smart man, Emi.
What a clever solution! Chivas will need a place to go, you know,
pee, and she’s still too weak to go down the steps. Besides, once
we all have to stay inside, it will be the only place she can
pee.”
I gave her a hug. “Oh, and happy birthday.
You’re now twelve years old, almost a teenager,” I said, realizing
how much time had gone by since I had been in Florida to witness
her birth.
“Thank you, Nahna,” she said quietly. “I know
it can’t be special, not like other birthdays, because of what’s
coming.” Emi shrugged her little shoulders.
“We will make it as special as we can for
you,” I promised her. “How would you like pizza for dinner
tonight?”
“Yay! I love pizza! Can we have pepperoni on
it?” Emi was all smiles now, anticipating a special dinner in her
honor.
“I think I still have some left,” I assured
her, thinking of the venison pepperoni I had made.
I saw my two sons making their way across the
creek carrying what looked like a deer between them, so I hurried
out to greet them and offer some help.
They had cut down a small tree and after
tying the deer’s legs together, ran the poles between the feet and
then hoisted it across their shoulders. They were carrying a great
deal of weight like that.
With his ribs still not completely healed
from the altercation a month ago, Eric was soon struggling as he
tried coming up the steep hill. They had just stopped to set down
the carcass when I met up with them, at which point I took over for
Eric to finish bringing the fresh meat up the incline. We got the
deer hung in the barn and I was thankful they had already gutted
the animal.
“That didn’t take long! This is great,” I
said, beaming at my two hunters as they made short work of skinning
the animal.
“I’m just sorry we only got one, Mom. We’ll
go out again another time,” Eric assured me.
* * *
Everyone gathered in the kitchen around six
o’clock for dinner. Everyone except John, and his absence was a
glaring reminder of the approaching storm. Eric had told Amanda,
Emilee and Jacob that Grandpa John had gone on a trip far away and
might be gone for a long time.
“I like Grandpa John. Did he die, Nahna?”
Jacob asked in the innocence of an autistic child.
“Oh, no, Jacob, he didn’t die! He just had to
go see someone who lives a long way away. He said he would be back,
but we don’t know when.” I tried to reassure my grandson. Maybe I
was trying to reassure myself. It didn’t work on me - I hope it
worked on everyone else.
After dinner I brought out a plateful of
muffins I had made earlier and put a single candle in the middle
one and we all sang happy birthday to our beaming and budding young
lady.
“I have a present for you, Emi,” I announced.
I handed her a box wrapped in Christmas paper, which made her
laugh.
Her eyes got very wide and I thought she was
going to burst at the seams when she saw the little gun.
“Oh, Nahna, my very own gun …,” she said
breathlessly. “It’s so small, is it real?”
“Very definitely real, but you will need
lessons from your dad before you’re allowed to shoot it, okay?”
She nodded vigorously, then her Uncle Jason
gave her a box of ammo, and Eric gave his daughter the holster,
attached to one of her own belts, which pleased her greatly. Amanda
presented her with a necklace, a reminder that she was still a
girl. Jacob being Jacob surprised us all by giving Emi a hand drawn
birthday card. He gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then
went to read one of his new books.
* * *
After our great family night, we got back to
business.
“We still need to get the fish smoking and I
have another batch of fish for the canner,” I commented. “This
needs to be done tonight. I know we’re putting in long hours and I,
for one, am feeling the strain in the way of fatigue.”
“We are too, Mom. I think that’s why I had
such a hard time getting up the hill,” Eric said.
“Well, we’re not done yet. In another couple
of days we will have a deer to butcher and that might mean pulling
an all-nighter,” I warned them. “Fatigue can do strange things, so
we need one person to keep us on track. Amanda, while the three of
us are cutting and canning meat, can you be the one to watch the
kids, fix our meals, and keep us focused?”
She looked doubtful. “Sure. I guess so.”
“You will be the one adult that can sleep. We
might be able to figure out a shift of sorts, once these two
understand the meat canning process,” I said, “but none of us can
get much more than a catnap until the meat is done. We just can’t
risk losing it.”
Before everyone left for the night, I
reminded them that this was the last day of grid power for three
days, and to all take showers, baths and to do laundry.
I settled down to watch some news after I
took my shower. The final load of laundry tumbled in the dryer.
“…the reports that have filtered in, we now
know that the 9.6 earthquake and the subsequent volcanic eruptions
in Yellowstone were felt as far east as Washington, D.C. and as far
north as areas in Ontario, Canada.
“No reports yet on how far the eruption of
the Valles Caldera in New Mexico was felt. The Valles Caldera,
centered in the Jemes Mountains, has been dormant for millions of
years and was considered to be a non-threat. The eruption this
morning is believed to have been triggered by the Yellowstone
eruptions. Government officials are suggesting caution when
venturing outdoors, and recommend that those with breathing
disorders remain indoors until the possible ash cloud passes.
“On a brighter note, the Detroit Tigers take
on the Yankees tomorrow in a home game...”
I turned the TV off. How could they discuss
baseball at a time like this? I shook my head in disbelief. Caution
when venturing outdoors?? That was unbelievable. People were going
to die. Maybe a lot of people.
July 20
It looked like fog, hanging quiet and heavy
in the tops of the trees; a slowly moving, shifting mass. It hung
there, silently obscuring the morning sun. I wasn’t really quite
sure if it had begun or not. It wasn’t what I had expected, but
then, what did I expect? I called the boys on the FRS radio to let
them know that I thought it had started.
The ash cloud settled lower in the branches,
filtering more and more of the sunlight until it touched the ground
and the shroud was complete. Fine ash and pumice, like motes of
dust, gathered on the pavement, only much more deadly than the
benign dust it mimicked. A light breeze sprung up and quickly
became a brisk wind that lashed at the growing piles of death. The
wind pushed first one way and then another, scattering the ash in
ever moving tendrils that resembled snakes darting in a confused
dance back and forth across the pavement. The wind picked up a
handful and swirled it tornado-like down the road, dropping it in
another drift.
I was watching the growing gloom in abstract
fascination from within the safety of the house when I saw Mark
pulling into the driveway across the road late in the afternoon. It
was a bad time to make a house call on a dog. I could see he was
wearing a mask of some sort though.
Forty-some minutes later I heard knocking on
the glass door.
“Mark,” I said through the glass, “come
around to the greenhouse so you can shake the ash off.” He nodded,
and I moved through the house to let him in the back way. The ash
had been falling for over six hours now.
He stepped into the greenhouse entrance Jason
had made to enclose the hand pump on the well. Only then did he
remove his hooded jacket then his face mask and goggles, shaking
the ash off. I opened the door that led into the warm and humid
growing room.
“Mark, you’ve picked a bad day to come
visiting,” I commented, as I hung his jacket on a shaker-peg.
“Allexa, we need to talk,” he replied quite
ominously.
I poured two cups of coffee and we sat at the
kitchen table.
“Why are you out and about, Mark? You of all
people know how dangerous this first wave of ash might be! We all
love Chivas and appreciate your concern for her, but a house call
for a dog is not worth risking your life.”
He smiled at me and sipped his coffee.
“That’s just like you, to think of someone else first.” Mark set
his cup down. “I didn’t come to see the dog, I came to see
you.”
“I’m not sick. And I haven’t injured myself
again either. So why are you really here?” I sat back, crossing my
arms over my chest.
“John came to see me yesterday morning. Damn
early I must add!”
“And?”
“And he told me about the last visit the two
of you had in town, with Pastor Carolyn. John thought I should know
so I could watch the town people and be ready. He believed,
believes, in the facts you presented to the town, and it made him
angry that they were just going to ignore your warnings. I must
tell you that is one man I do not want angry at me!” Mark
chuckled.
“Yes, I was very disturbed by their attitude.
Fortunately, I don’t think everyone thinks that way.”
“Well, too many of them do… or did.” Mark
frowned.
“What do you mean ‘did’?” I asked, my alarms
ringing, and my heartbeat picking up. “Have some of them come back
around?” I asked hopefully.
Mark rubbed his hands over his face. “Do you
have anything stronger than coffee?” he asked me.
“What’s your choice? I have a small variety
of alcohol, and not much of that,” my breathing was short. I wanted
to hear what he had to say, although he needed time and perhaps
fortification.
“Bourbon?”
I retrieved the bottle from the back pantry
and poured him two fingers in a short glass. He took a sip, then
with eyes closed tossed the rest back and set the glass down.
“By any chance do you have some ice?” he
asked, gasping from the alcohol’s impact.
It was only the first day of the three-day
shut off from power. I took a bowl from the silent freezer and
dropped three ice cubes in his glass. After he poured more bourbon
over the ice, he went on. “Allex, it was horrifying to watch, and I
felt so helpless. Within a half hour of the ash cloud’s appearance
this morning, entire families were walking to or from the church
singing hymns. It didn’t take long, and the youngest grabbed his
throat and screamed. His mother dropped to his side and then
crumpled herself. I couldn’t even get near them. Then others
screamed and fell to the ground. They dropped like flies, Allex! I
know it must have been agonizing, and at least it was quick. They
just couldn’t breathe. The ash lacerated their lungs with a single
intake. The rest couldn’t get inside fast enough. If they had
breathed outside, they were already doomed.” Mark stared at his
drink.
“How many, Mark?” I asked in a hushed voice.
This had to be incredibly hard on a man dedicated to healing.
“At least twenty…” He took a swallow of the
amber liquid sloshing around in his glass, his hands trembling.
Twenty? My God, there were only maybe thirty
left in the whole town! I was beyond astonished they could be so
reckless, so stupid.
“That was today, this morning.” Mark gathered
his thoughts and his composure. “When John stopped by yesterday, he
also told me what he was doing, where he was going. I tried to talk
him out of it, Allex, but he was very insistent. He also asked me
to do something for him,” he took another sip from his drink,
stalling.
“He said he’d be back in a week … he isn’t
coming back at all, is he?” I blurted out.
“No, he isn’t. At least it’s very doubtful,”
Mark confessed. “He said he has to try to reach his daughter. He
thinks he will be stopped at some point and not be able to make it
back here. There is also a strong chance he will be killed along
the way.”
I breathed in gulps, keeping my feelings
silent by wrapping my heart in a cool, dark blanket.
“He told me that he asked you to marry him,”
Mark stated, “and that you said no. He didn’t tell you this, but he
thinks your turning him down has something to do with me, Allex. He
knows that I have… feelings for you, and that you might return
those feelings, even if you deny it now. So he asked me, made me
promise, that if and when the clouds got here, that I would come to
you, to keep you company during the bad times that are sure to be
ahead of us.”
“He wants you to live here? Mark, moving
about is going to be extremely difficult. If you stay here, how can
you help the town, the people?” I pressed, even though I was
wrought with confusion that John would just pass me over to another
man.
“Allex, there’s no one left to help! Those
few that didn’t succumb to this first wave are hunkered down and
playing it safe. They don’t need me right now. John felt that you
might,” Mark searched my face. “Do you? Will you?”
“I … I don’t know, Mark,” I told him
honestly. “I do know you can’t go back out in this, not yet
anyway.”
I made up the futon couch for Mark, and in
the deepening summer twilight, I sought solace in a dreamless
sleep.
JOURNAL ENTRY: July 21