The Dying Time (Book 1): Impact Page 11

  At NORAD no one panicked and sought to launch missiles; they’d been through this before.

  At the Kennedy Space Center, Eli Cohen wanted to tear his hair out so he thanked God he didn’t have any.

  Aboard the ISS, newly promoted Five Star General Alice Anderson cursed as she reset popped circuit breakers. She was just thankful the SOHO satellite had given them enough warning to get all her people inside so they wouldn’t fry.

  Around the world, people everywhere looked at snowy TV’s and wondered what the hell happened.

  *

  The White House

  Hammond Powell tried to relax in the Roosevelt room while a technician applied pancake for TV. He wore a loose white cable-knit sweater and comfortable tan slacks--no suit and tie.

  Today he needed to look relaxed, to convey dignified, calm acceptance. A homey fire burned in the fireplace to add psychological warmth to the scene.

  He was about to tell almost everyone in the world they were going to die but he couldn’t appear worried. He snorted, recalling one of his advisors had even recommended botox.

  “Are you plastering a house?” he asked the makeup artist.

  “No, sir,” she said, and continued brushing and touching up.

  “Trying to make me look foolish?”

  “No, sir!” she said, stepping back to check her efforts.

  “Then why is this taking so long? It never took this much time before.”

  “This speech is important isn’t it, Mr. President?”

  “Possibly the most important I’ll ever give.”

  “Then I want to be sure you look your absolute best, sir.” She leaned back in with an eyebrow pencil.

  The girl was just doing her job and he’d been difficult. “I apologize Miss--”

  “Potucek, sir. Jana Potucek.”

  “I apologize, Miss Potucek. Nerves, I guess.”

  “Then it must be true, the rumors I mean.”

  “Rumors?”

  “About an asteroid or some other big catastrophe.” She stepped back and said, “There.”

  He stood and saw Farley hurrying toward him. “You should listen to my speech Miss Potucek.”

  *

  “Fellow citizens of the world. I speak to you tonight, not as the President of the United States, but as a human being with a very big problem--a problem I need your help with. As a result of that I’m going to do something you aren’t used to seeing or hearing from a politician. I’m going to tell you the unvarnished truth as I know it and I’m warning you now that it’s a grim truth. You won’t like hearing it anymore than I like having to lay it out for you.

  “A short time ago my staff and I learned that a large asteroid is on a collision course with the Earth. The impact will be...catastrophic.”

  Tears glistened in his eyes and he paused a moment to collect himself. Viewers noticed for the first time how he’d aged in mere days.

  “I’m not going to go into details. Suffice it to say earthquakes of enormous magnitude will occur and for those of you living along the coastlines, tsunamis larger than any we have seen are a certainty.

  “The world as we know it, and I stress, as we know it, will cease to exist but that doesn’t mean we will. The human race is strong, courageous and ingenious, and I’m telling you humanity will survive!

  “To that end every nation on Earth is preparing survival shelters and refugee camps in locations we believe will be the most stable. Caves and modern mines, well-stocked with food, water and medical supplies will be the safest places to be. Interior mountain ranges or highlands at least 200 miles from the ocean are a close second.

  “Now I know that foremost in your minds is the question, “What can I do to keep my family safe?” and there are four simple things you can do.

  “First, remain calm. Giving in to panic or a knee-jerk reaction to flee the coasts will only result in needless suffering and death. We have a plan to evacuate the coasts in an orderly fashion and will do so beginning the day after tomorrow. We have plenty of time provided we keep our heads.

  “Second, think and plan carefully. Consider where you live. Is it in a known earthquake zone? What do you have in your own house that can help your family survive? What local resources could help your community?

  “Third, go to work tomorrow. Because as of right now we all need each other more than ever before. We must use the time we have wisely and that means we all need to continue to do our jobs. Every one of us must look into our hearts and understand that we owe a duty to our neighbors and our community as well as to our families and friends.

  “Fourth, I know you will all have plenty of questions, especially if you think this through. We have established a website to give you as many answers as we can. www.WhatCanIDo.com is full of invaluable knowledge about what we think will happen and when and how to survive. So fourth is visit that website, as well as the numerous Prepper websites, and gather all the information you can before you start asking your local officials. We have also set up a phone bank at 1-800-GET HELP for those of you without internet access.

  “This is a lot of reality to absorb and you all have a great deal to think about but you need to know what steps your government is taking to help you so please keep listening.

  “Here in the United States I am declaring a nationwide state of emergency, mobilizing the National Guard and instituting Martial Law. We will not tolerate looting or social disorder of any kind.

  “As I mentioned earlier we have set up survival havens and refugee centers in safe zones. Unfortunately, we don’t have enough room in the havens for everyone so we are holding a lottery for all Americans under the age of fifty-five. Approximately twenty minutes after I finish speaking email messages and telephone calls will begin going out to those who have been selected. Those calls will continue for the next three days so you might want to stay off the phone.

  “If you do not receive such a call or email and you live in an earthquake zone or within two hundred miles of the coast you should plan to relocate to one of the FEMA camps we have established. Most of you who live in the interior, especially those of you in small towns, or on farms and ranches are probably best off remaining at home. I realize this isn’t an ideal solution but it is the best we can do in the allotted time.

  “Finally, you might want to pray. May God keep and bless you all.”

  Almost two hours passed before the President learned his message had only reached about one quarter of the American public.

  The solar storm stacked the deck against humanity.

  *

  The Freeholds

  Ellen clicked the remote and turned the TV off. She didn’t really care what the talking heads had to say about the President’s speech. “Can you believe that?” she asked.

  Michael swiveled sideways on the couch to face her and said, “I think we have to.”

  Jill Cantrell, seated in a rocking chair, rocking their son Steven, said, “It doesn’t sound real.”

  Jim Cantrell leaned forward from Michael’s Lazy Boy, propped his elbows on his knees and said, “I hear you, but it sounds pretty real to me.”

  Jill nodded. “I guess what I meant to say is it’s hard to fathom.”

  Ellen cocked her head and said, “We have some serious planning to do if this thing’s going to hit in a couple of days. We should inventory our supplies and see if we’re short on anything.”

  “Toilet paper,” Jill and Jim said together. The looked at each other and grinned.

  “Baby things,” Jill said, looking down at Steven and thinking of her own swelling belly.

  “Books,” Michael said, and when they all looked at him, he added, “If the President’s right, we’re looking at TEOTWAWKI, so we’ll need--”

  “TEOTWhati” Jim interrupted with raised eyebrows.

  “The End Of The World As We Know It,” Michael explained. “My point being, the internet will be down so we’ll need books, and I mean good quality books that will last, not cheap paperbacks. K
nowledge is the most important commodity we have. Everyone will be going after food and guns.” He stopped and turned to Ellen. “Make a note we need more gunpowder and lead for reloading, some more of those small lead smelters and molds for casting bullets too. So I think we should focus on books.”

  “Ebooks too,” Ellen said. “We can download them to thumb drives or external hard drives and store them in the Faraday cage with our computers.”

  “You focus on books, amigos,” Jim said. “Jill and I are heading for Denver tomorrow to pick up baby things…” he paused, brows knitted for an instant, “...and extra guitar strings.”

  “You aren’t taking this seriously,” Michael said.

  Jim flipped Michael the bird, and said, “Actually, I am. I’m a musician so I’ll need guitar strings, man.”

  Ellen had been scribbling furiously while they talked. Now she spoke up before the two boys ended up arguing. “Antibiotics--we can get them from pet stores and feed stores without a prescription. Just about anything for fish, horses or large dogs will work for people. Disinfectants and any other medical supplies, and vinegar. All the vinegar you can lay your hands on. Same for bleach, but only the unscented kind. We can use that to purify water if wells fail.”

  Steven woke from his nap, tugged on Jill’s dark hair, squirmed a bit and settled with a satisfied smile. An unmistakable odor filled the room.

  “God!” Jim said pinching his nose. “That’s worse than dog farts.”

  Ellen snatched Steven from Jill and headed for the bathroom. “Cloth diapers,” she said over her shoulder as she kicked the door closed.

  Chapter 14: The Last Day

  “Ham, you have to evacuate. It's your duty.” Farley Moffat only called the President, Ham, when he was certain they were alone and the recorders were off.

  Hammond Powell ignored him, asking, “Any word from my family?”

  “They entered Mount Weather five minutes ago, along with those Cabinet members and Congressional leaders who qualified.”

  Hammond Powell had issued an executive order that the age limit applied to Americans at large also applied to their leadership. No one older than fifty-five had entered Mount Weather--much to the consternation of most of Congress. To assure some degree of continuity should the United States survive as a nation, Hammond had requested members over the age of fifty-five to resign after selecting younger replacements. He’d made the same request of the Supreme Court Justices. To the great surprise of many Americans the entire Court and most Congressmen put country before self and acceded to his request. Still, his insistence that everyone over fifty-five take their chances had earned him the sobriquet “Double Nickel” Powell.

  Time was running out and Farley knew he had to keep trying. “You should be with them. The People will need you to lead them back from this.”

  “Armed Forces alert status?” Hammond Powell was possibly the last politician alive who believed a Captain should go down with his ship. Besides he was fifty-six. Thank God his wife was two years younger.

  “Defcon 2, but the Russians are well aware it has nothing to do with them. Okay, Hammond, Farley thought, have it your way. Presidents usually did.

  “Civil authorities?”

  “All the Governors and Mayors we could reach have been notified our best estimate for the strike is about 3:15 tomorrow morning--that’s Eastern Daylight time. White House operators are still calling. The Emergency Broadcast System is online and the FCC has all TV and radio stations broadcasting survival instructions. FEMA says the shelters are full and locked down. They've also opened our old fallout shelters to the public and started sounding the air raid klaxons. The Martial Law declaration helped a lot, Ham, and--”

  “How about the evacuation, Farley?” The President broke in.

  Farley hesitated and looked away.

  “That's what I thought,” the President said.

  “Some folks just wouldn’t leave, sir,” Farley said. “Many refuse to believe it will happen. We did what we could.”

  “I suppose that will be our epitaph, Farley.”

  “Mr. President?” It was Donna Markwright on the intercom.

  “Yes, Donna?” Donna Markwright could die happy. The President had finally called her, Donna.

  “Doctor Borzowski is here.”

  “Send him in. And Donna, you can still catch the last helicopter.”

  “I’m almost sixty, Sir, but I wouldn’t go without you.” She signed off with tears in her eyes. Her refusal to head for safety brought a lump to the President's throat.

  Carl Borzowski walked into the Oval office like a man approaching death row.

  “You left California before I could stop you, Carl. I need you to head back immediately and take charge of Sunflower Two. Nothing must happen to that control facility. I've directed General Mabry to place his troops at your disposal to protect the site.” He misread Carl's shocked expression. “You're the only man for the job, Carl. Can I count on you?”

  Now Carl understood that his punishment for failing to find a way to stop this catastrophe would be to die apart from Monica. He'd really counted on being with her at the end, but there was no fight left in him, and the President was right. Sunflower Two was the only thing that could prevent the complete extinction of the human race. His duty was to guard it.

  “Of course, Sir,” he said. “I'll catch a military flight from Andrews.” He hoped he would have time to call Monica.

  *

  Provo

  “So, what do you think?” Bob Young asked, scuffing his boots on the ground and leaning on his hoe. Betty, wearing a pink maternity dress and white and yellow flower print apron, was picking beans from the corn patch. The corn silks were browning nicely and each six foot stalk held two ears of Reid’s Yellow Dent, an heirloom variety good for grinding into cornmeal. Bush Blue Lake Pole green beans wound up the stalks and held clusters of heavy pods. Yellow crookneck squash spread out between the rows of corn and beans and completed their “three sisters” planting.

  “I think you should stop propping up that hoe and go grab some tomatoes,” she said. “The Amish Paste are ready and I’d like to put up some more sauce.”

  He crossed his eyes at her and she feigned surprise and said, “Oh, you mean about Adam. If what the President said is true, and for once I don’t think he was lying, then Adam should be okay.” She popped another handful of long crisp beans into her apron’s deep pocket. An aromatic mixture of garden soil and growing things tickled her nose.

  “Okay? With the Army, FEMA, Homeland and the FBI looking for him?” A bead of sweat dripped from his nose and he pulled out a red bandanna and wiped his face.

  Betty shooed a black Araucana chicken from under foot. Allowing the birds to free range in the garden after the plants matured enough helped keep the squash bug and corn beetle populations under control while reducing feed costs. And the fresh eggs were a huge plus.

  “What I meant was if that Havoc thingy hits tonight the government will have better things to do than look for him. He’ll be able to stop looking over his shoulder every time he goes outside.”

  Bob snorted and said, “If that Havoc thingy as you call it hits, we’ll all have more important things to worry about.”

  “Which is why I said he’d be okay,” she said, wiping her brow and getting the last word.

  *

  Mojave Desert

  Orange flooded the sky as the sun dropped below the mountains. Shadow fingers grew, stretching out until they covered the men on the valley floor.

  “So, Joey, you don’t look too happy.” Benny the Bug leaned over Joey’s staked out body and inflicted another small cut with a straight razor. “There, better now?”

  Joey said nothing. His sons lay staked on either side of him and Benny had even brought Sergeant Carswell. Sometimes silence was the best policy. Their naked flesh was bright red, shriveled and chapped, lips cracked, brains sun-fevered. This after only one afternoon.

  “Such a stoic.” Benny spi
t on Joey's face. “Maybe I should read you your rights? What d’you think, Alonzo?” A grit-filled breeze gusted past, stirring dry rabbit brush.

  “Sure thing, Mr. Bonificio,” Alonzo Bonetti agreed. He just wished Benny would get it over with so they could get out of this stinking desert. His boy Nicolo was looking green.

  “You have the right to bleed freely,” Benny recited. “Anything you scream will cause me great joy. You have the right to an executioner. Since you cannot afford one, I am appointing several at no cost to you.”

  Benny unscrewed a jar of honey and dribbled a trail across the men to several nearby anthills.

  “You understand these rights?”

  Benny kicked Joey’s side. “I said, do you understand these rights?”

  Enough! Joey licked his cracked lips with a parched tongue and whispered, “I understand, Buggie.”

  “What did you call me?” Benny hissed.

  “I called you what everybody calls you behind your back, you dumb guinea. You think they call you Benny the Bug because you kill your enemies this way? They call you Buggie Benny because you’re too stupid to keep your own guys from cheating you. Everybody does it.”

  He saw doubt flickering behind Benny’s purple-faced rage.

  “Why don't you ask Nicolo over there, how he knew exactly where to look to find my hidden room? He’s been working for me since he was twelve.”

  Benny spun in time to catch the shocked blanch on Nicolo’s face. Alonzo tensed.

  “He’s lyin’ Mr. Bonificio,” Nicolo protested. “He’s makin’ it all up.”

  Joey was not making it up, but Benny suddenly smiled and said, “I know, Nicolo. He’s just trying to get me mad enough to kill him quick. It won’t work.”

  From just over the ridge, in the shadow of a Joshua tree, Jamal watched and waited.

  *

  Southeastern Kansas

  Harry Garrison stepped out of the Cessna 180 as it rolled to a stop on the freshly mowed grass landing strip and embraced his wife.