The Journal: Ash Fall (33 page)

“I’ve had more practice,” he said with a
smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I will say I’m eating better
than I have in the past. What was it you fixed for us? It was
wonderful,” he said, deftly changing the subject.

“I call it mock chicken parmesan. Just a jar
of home canned chicken reheated in my own spaghetti sauce, with a
few extra herbs and then topped with parmesan cheese. I used pasta
this time. If you prefer rice, we can have that next time.”

“I think it was perfect just the way it is,
and thank you.” This time the smile did reach his eyes, just as the
power flickered on.

“Power wasn’t due back on until midnight!
Maybe we can catch some news.” I left the dishes on the table and
turned on the TV. We could have the TV on with the generator any
time we wanted, however, the cable satellite, as well as the
cellphone tower, needed power too and that had to come from the
grid.

“… and on the national front, the ash cloud
from the new volcano, Mount Yellowstone, is slowly moving out
across the Atlantic Ocean, much to the relief of everyone affected.
Officials are saying that by listening to the staff at FEMA and the
CDC, and following the instructions of your local emergency
services, the injury total has been kept to a minimum,” the young
blonde newscaster said with a confident smile. The camera shook,
distorting the live broadcast, and a new face appeared.

“Don’t believe this political media crap!
It’s all lies! My name is Dustin Abernathy, and I’m a doctor at the
Montrose Medical Clinic. I lived in Cleveland, Ohio when the cloud
hit and I watched thousands die in just a few hours! Tens of
thousands! You have to know the truth! People are still dying and
they’re dying because our government is lying to them about how to
deal with this Drifting Death! Stay inside, everyone, don’t breathe
the ash cloud! It will kill you by slicing your lungs to shreds!
Protect yourself!” In the background, the blonde reporter was being
restrained by a man with a surgical mask covering half of his face.
A shot was heard over the screams of that young newscaster, and Dr.
Abernathy slumped across the polished glass podium. The screen went
blank.

We sat there momentarily stunned. Mark
grabbed the remote and changed channels. A jittery camera shot
rolled across the TV as we watched mobs of people running in the
streets, only to be indiscriminately mowed down by automatic
gunfire from the gas-masked swat teams billeted behind armor
plating. Buildings were burning behind and around the mob, but also
behind the shooters, the raging fires being a great equalizer. The
camera panned the crowd again in time to catch the explosion from a
building a block behind the protesters. The concussion was so great
that everyone stumbled or fell. The only narration came from the
screams of the people and the sound of rapid gun fire. This screen
went blank too.

“My God, what is happening out there?” Mark
whispered.

CHAPTER 31

July 23

“General Marlow,” a strange, gruff voice
answered.

“I’m looking for Tom White. Did I dial the
wrong number?” I asked, knowing I hadn’t. My suspicious nature was
suddenly alive and screaming.

“Mr. White has been relieved of command. Who
is this?” General Marlow asked impatiently.

Relieved of command by the military?? What
was going on in Marquette? Something was very, very wrong.

“Oh, the military has come to help? That’s
wonderful!” I lied, trying to buy some time while I thought. Mark
gave me the strangest look and I put my finger to my lips to shush
him.

“What is your location, ma’am? I’ll send
someone to assist you.” The general’s voice was now soft and
patronizing, and it sent all of my alarms blaring.

“Great! I’m alone in a house on Bluff
Street,” I said, lying again. “Can you hear me??” All the while I
was randomly punching numbers on the cell phone to create
interference. I disconnected quickly, hoping there wasn’t time for
a trace.

“What was that all about, Allex?” Mark
asked.

“Tom has been relieved of command as
Emergency Manager… by the military,” I told him. “They wanted my
location to ‘assist’ us. This is very wrong and very bad.”

I hadn’t talked to Anna since the video
presentation. I could only hope that she was hunkering down. I
speed dialed her home, relieved when she answered on the first
ring.

“Anna, we have a problem.”

“What now, Allexa?” she asked wearily.

“The military has taken over the emergency
management office in Marquette. Tom has been ‘relieved of command’
by a General Marlow,” I told her, repeating what I relayed to Mark.
“I really, really believe it’s in our best interest to sever all
communications with the county, Anna. Can you get to the office and
put a repeating message on the automatic voicemail, something to
the effect that most here have died and the rest are relocating to
Marquette? That should lead them away from us.”

“Normally I would say I think you’re
overreacting, but you haven’t led us wrong yet.” She sighed and
said something to someone in the background. “I’ll get to the
office immediately. Oh, and Allexa, Pete told me what your family
did for the town. Thank you.” She hung up.

Mark was looking more and more confused, and
just a touch worried.

“A military takeover is likely to mean
rounding up the remaining citizens for relocating into detention
camps, confiscating all food supplies for redistribution, disarming
everyone and separating families,” I told him bluntly. “I certainly
don’t want that to happen with us here, do you?”

“No, of course not, Allex, and from what we
saw on the TV last night, I think that could be what would happen,”
Mark agreed.

“It also means that with Tom gone I no longer
have access to information. We are truly on our own,” I said,
staring out the window at the continuing ash-fall, though it did
seem to be less than yesterday.

“What do we do now?”

“We go on with our lives,” I said with a sad
smile. “I think we will be ignored for now.”

At least I hoped so.

* * *

As prearranged, Eric and Jason arrived at
nine-thirty to start the butchering of the deer they had shot a few
days ago and that was still hanging in the barn.

“The good news is with the power back on, we
won’t be under such a crunch,” I told them. “Still, we should work
as quickly as possible, just in case the power goes out again. I
need you two to cut the deer up into quarters. Bring one in, and
put the other three in the refrigerator out there. Mark and I will
bring in the supplies.”

I handed Eric an old sheet to cover the meat
from the ash while they were bringing it in. It was still coming
down steadily, just not as thick as before. I was taking that as a
good sign that it might be starting to let up.

“What supplies do we need, Allex? And where
are they?” Mark asked. John knew where everything was and I was
feeling just a touch impatient that Mark didn’t. But then, he
wasn’t John. John left. John always left, and this time he wasn’t
coming back.

“Everything is out in the small brown shed,”
I answered, reminding myself that he was trying, really trying, to
help. “We’ll need jars, seals, canners and cooking kettles. I’ll
hand them out to you since I know what to look for. I think this
will be a good time to use the second pantry entrance. There’s too
much to walk all the way around to the greenhouse.”

* * *

The big double stacker pressure canner sat on
the stove. I filled one of the cooking kettles with water and set
it to heat for cooking the bones and the scrap. Mark and I pushed
the work island and the utility table together and draped it with a
sheet of plastic I keep with the canning stuff. It’s easy to wash
and sterilize. We set out cutting boards, knives and bowls.

“This looks like you’ve done this a time or
two before, Allex,” Mark commented laughing.

“Once or twice, yeah,” I grinned back. “Once
we get in a rhythm the work goes smoothly. When there’s enough
cleaned meat for me to work with, the boys will continue to butcher
and I’ll start canning.”

“What do you want me to do? I really do want
to learn so I can help,” Mark said sincerely.

I was so accustomed to doing so much by
myself it was hard to let the tasks go. I knew I must though.

“While they’re cutting the deer up, we need
to start washing the jars, and this table will need to be wiped
down with bleach. Take your pick.” Soon I was washing jars and Mark
had the table sanitized. Then he offered to sharpen all the knives,
while I fed the chickens and watered the plants out in the
greenhouse, a daily chore.

The four of us worked steadily for hours,
sometimes quietly, sometimes talking.

“So what brought you to Moose Creek, Dr.
Mark?” Eric asked innocently as he sliced a large piece of red meat
away from a bone.

Mark had been slicing meat for jerky with
surgical precision. His hands stilled. I could see the battle going
on inside him on what to say.

“I was an ER doctor down in Saginaw. It was
work I loved. It was very gratifying to help so many. It became my
whole world after my wife and son were killed in a car accident.
That was many years ago that they died,” he paused, placing the
slices in a bowl and took another large piece of meat. “When the
quakes hit last fall and society started to crumble, I was even
more needed. But it wasn’t the same, so I left. I just got in my
car and started driving.”

“Why here? Why Moose Creek?”

“This is where I ran out of gas,” Mark
chuckled, and he continued to cut, with a quick glance at me.

* * *

At six o’clock, just as we were cleaning up,
having done two quarters, the FRS squawked.

“Jason, are you still at Mom’s?” Amanda’s
voice came over the small radio.

“Yep, we’re just cleaning up now,” he
answered, pushing the button to respond.

“I was wondering when you would be back for
dinner.”

Jason looked at the three of us before
answering his wife.

“You guys can go ahead. I can’t leave the
canner, I have to finish,” I said to them.

“I’ll walk over with them and bring back our
dinner. How’s that, Allex?” Mark offered washing his glove covered
hands of the blood.

“I’ll set the jerky cuts to marinade
overnight and you two can dry them in the smoke house tomorrow,
okay?” I stated, filling another pint jar with pieces of meat.
“I’ll see you two tomorrow morning. Get some rest, we’re only half
done,” I reminded them wearily. I gave Mark a dozen eggs to deliver
to Amanda.

* * *

Mark returned a half hour later just as I was
emptying the canner and getting ready for the next double batch of
venison.

“Eric insisted I sample his latest brew,”
Mark said to explain his tardiness as he set the protective cloth
bag on the counter. “Dinner is two beers and some kind of chicken
casserole, for which Amanda apologized. I think she’s tired of
casseroles.”

“I can see I’ll have to teach Emilee to make
tortilla bread. That should give Amanda something new to work
with!”

“You can make tortillas?” Mark asked in
awe.

I nodded. “And tacos, English muffins, bagels
and pita. If it’s bread-like, I can make it,” I boasted, suddenly
feeling shy about my skills.

“How’s the canning coming?”

“Last batch for today is coming up to
pressure. That will give us twenty-eight jars of meat, a good day
of work. We should get the same tomorrow, plus all the soup stock
and the jerky. This will give us a nice protein base. I won’t be
able to can the soup for two more days. Once cooked it needs to
cool so I can remove the floating tallow, and then remove the bones
and dice up the meat. Only then will it be ready to can. It’s a
long process,” I said. “I think having this extra food is worth the
work.”

“What kind of flavoring do you use for the
jerky?” He was very inquisitive tonight.

“The marinade is a blend of my own apple
cider vinegar, soy sauce and teriyaki sauce, plus some water to
thin it down enough to cover what’s in the bowl. In fact, let’s do
that right now.” I got the gallon sized containers of soy and
teriyaki out of the cold pantry.

I went to the greenhouse to retrieve sprouted
garlic and some chives. Once chopped they were added to the three
gallon marinating pail with the cup of soy sauce, half cup of
teriyaki, and a half cup of vinegar. The meat was added in small
batches to make sure it was well coated. I set it in the humming
refrigerator for the night.

We finally sat down to enjoy Amanda’s chicken
casserole and Eric’s beer. I was exhausted.

July 24

At nine-thirty Eric and Jason entered the
barn and brought both remaining quarters of the deer back to the
house to save the additional trip later. Mark and I were up early
to get everything ready for another long day.

“Amanda made us pancakes for breakfast, Mom,
so we’re not hungry. I sure could use another cup of coffee
though,” Eric said, when I offered them some toast.

“She’s been digging around in the basement in
Aunt Nancy’s food storage and found a sealed canning jar labeled
pancake mix,” Jason said. “With some of Nancy’s jam smeared on top
it was awesome!”

“Yeah, I think I ate too much,” Eric said,
pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“I’m very glad Amanda is comfortable enough
to go exploring,” I commented, pleased that she would take the
initiative. “Nancy did a lot of canning, too. I’m surprised there’s
much left.”

“Mom,” Jason gave me one of “those” looks.
“We ate over here a lot last winter, in case you forgot.”

“You’re right,” I admitted. “It’s time to get
to work and finish this up. Mark already re-sanitized the table and
sharpened all the knives. I washed and stored the two cases of meat
from yesterday and have more jars ready for today’s canning.
Anything else?”