The Dying Time (Book 1): Impact Page 16

  “They said the United States would suffer worse damage than Russia, but our sensors tell a different story. Parts of the US are still clear and the debris clouds there are much cooler. If God existed, I’d curse him.”

  “Pavel!”

  “I don’t care!” He cried out. “Mother Russia is gone.” And then more weakly, “She is gone.”

  Though their marriage was one of political convenience, the raw pain in his voice touched her. She reached out and placed her palm on his chest over his heart and said, “No, Pavel. Russia lives here.”

  *

  Mia Torno, their Italian cartographer and geophysicist, kept her dark brunette hair in a single large braid, wound around and pinned up with a pair of knitting needles to keep it from interfering with her work. She’d never expected to have to remap the entire world though so she’d drafted Suzy Yakamoto, another geophysicist, and Elena Maria Montoya, a lunar geologist to help.

  “Elena, could you double check this for me?” Mia asked.

  Elena opened her tablet, tapped email and started scanning the document

  Europe and the Mideast

  The Netherlands, Belgium, the lowlands of France, Germany, Denmark and Poland appear to be under water, reclaimed by the Atlantic and the Baltic. We saw tsunamis devastate every coastal city and port town in Europe and the US and can safely assume the same has occurred worldwide.

  In Norway, Sweden, Finland, Bavaria, the French and Italian Alps, we have observed a scattering of lights, indicating a few small mountain villages have apparently survived relatively intact.

  In Italy the Po Valley has been flooded by the Adriatic and in Spain the plains around Madrid are a quagmire. The United Kingdom has suffered the worst tsunamis, and horrible quakes have sundered the island nation into four pieces. The waters of the Atlantic have breached the barrier cliffs near Galway and flooded the interior of Ireland, leaving the appearance of a vast atoll.

  In Central Europe the Balkan nations, the Ukraine and European Russia were all but incinerated by a series of massive fire squalls of burning magma from the Havoc Strike. Dresden-style firestorms were observed in almost all of the major cities. Greece, Bulgaria, Turkey, Syria, Iraq, Iran and Pakistan suffered much the same fate in addition to especially violent earthquakes and volcanoes. The Saudi peninsula has endured the irony of massive tsunamis from the Indian Ocean on top of the quakes and fire falls. Those parts of Israel, Jordan and Egypt that didn’t burn in this oven of nature’s making have been inundated by the Mediterranean. If we were all devout Christians, we’d be looking to the Book of Revelations, and believing God had kept his promise and destroyed the world with fire.

  Iceland seems to have fared best. Though savaged by volcanic eruptions, fierce tsunamis, slipping glaciers and brutal floods the lights of several cities are still functioning indicating above normal survival rates. Ceilia Olafsdotter, who hails from there, says Iceland has always been a land of extremes and its people are used to nature’s treachery.

  Asia, Australia, Africa, Central and South America

  Bangladesh has vanished under the waters of the Bay of Bengal. The Indus and Ganges valleys resemble immense churning lakes. New Delhi, Lahore and Katmandu burned while Mumbai and Karachi drowned. Mt. Fuji exploded and has buried roughly half of Honshu under ash and magma. The lowlands of China, Southeast Asia, the Philippines and Indonesia suffered the same fate as the Netherlands and Bangladesh.

  The Hypercane we dubbed Havoc has veered across the Pacific destroying the Pacific Fleet and the remains of Korea before dying in central China. Two way radio contact with the surface is apparently impossible, but snippets of broadcasts we’ve picked up claim staggering death tolls and everywhere the storm struck reports of some unknown, deadly plague were not far behind. The logical conclusion is that this storm is somehow spreading the contagion. There are virtually no signs of life in all of China, Korea, and Southeast Asia.

  According to the last transmission from Adelaine, Australia lost almost its entire coastal population in spite of well-organized evacuations to camps in the interior. Only in deep mines or towns like Coober Pedy, where opal miners and everyone else live underground, could Aussies escape the broiling heat. The tsunami that destroyed Sydney smashed up against the Blue Mountains. As with the rest of the world the majority of apparent survivors live in the mountains. The Great Divide Range and the West slope of the Australian Alps show scattered lights.

  New Zealand has been devastated. The only signs of life appear on the South Island in the Southern Alps above Dunedin and Timaru.

  We haven’t been able to get good sightings in sub-Saharan Africa because of ash and smoke. What little we’ve seen indicates the continent has split in two as The Great Rift Valley has widened and the Indian Ocean has poured in.

  We believe Mexico, like the rest of Central America and the Caribbean lost most of its population to tidal waves, but volcanoes such as Popocatepetl, which destroyed Mexico City have contributed to the destruction. We also think the plagues from Hypercane Havoc are playing a huge role in finishing the job. According to a few HAM radio broadcasts refugees from these stricken nations fled to the United States spreading the epidemic there. Those who tried to flee to South America found themselves trapped, as the nation of Panama has been ripped asunder by the now combined waters of the Atlantic and Pacific.

  In South America the Andes broke the backs of the Pacific tsunamis that destroyed the coasts of Ecuador, Columbia, Peru and Chile, while the Atlantic laid waste to the most populated areas of Venezuela, Brazil, Uruguay and Argentina. Landlocked Bolivia and Paraguay, though shaken by quakes and landslides, appear to have fared best with electric power still displayed in many towns and cities.

  “Madre mia,” Elena said, crossing herself like a good Catholic. “It’s one thing to look out and see bits and pieces of the destruction, but it’s somehow horrible to read it in this report. It somehow makes it more real.”

  “Can you think of anything I’ve left out?” Mia asked.

  Elena shook her head. “No, I...yes. Wait a minute. What about the oceans, you know, the missing atolls and all those ships we saw?

  “I guess I should put them in,” Mia said, nodding. “But we couldn’t discern whether or not the ships were derelicts.

  “I think we should include everything we see,” Elena said. “You never know what will be important. And the way The Shroud is thickening it won’t be long before we can’t see anything.”

  *

  In the entire world no single nation, city, or village escaped untouched. And as darkness covered the globe, as universal cold descended, crops failed, starvation reigned. Even those individuals fortunate enough to have survived drowning, incineration, or being crushed or buried alive had to find new depths of strength within themselves. Food sources previously thought untouchable were tapped, for only those with iron wills and tough constitutions would live to see the sun come out and plants bloom again.

  Chapter 19: Slaves and Race Wars

  Denver Country Club

  “I'll take those two,” Viper said, pointing out a bedraggled blonde and an only slightly less grimy brunette. The women stared hopelessly as they were led off to the side. They would clean up good, excellent breasts. “After you pick, auction the rest,” he told Shark.

  Shark walked slowly along the line of naked women. Subtle as his namesake he stopped and shoved his finger up inside a mulatto he thought might appeal to him. She stiffened and her black eyes flared with hatred. Most of those tied together in the line had been raped and beaten so many times their spirits were broken, but not this one.

  He grabbed her hair, cut her out of line, and jerked her forward, off-balance. She fell to her hands and knees. He shoved her face down into the grass, pulled down his pants and thrust into her from behind, taking her in plain view of his cheering brethren. As the semen tide rose within him he exulted, slamming into her harder and harder until rewarded by a gasp of pain and the sight of tears squeezing from her tig
htly shut eyelids. God how he loved humiliating a bitch, any bitch.

  Denise Lachelle ground her teeth together and pretended she was elsewhere while she waited for it to be over.

  She heard an anguished cry, swiftly stifled, from the group of male prisoners being held off to the side. Jacques! She tried again to pull away but the hand that held her hair was too strong. Her sobs matched Shark's grunting as he finished.

  Down among the men being held captive, Jim Cantrell eased his hand from Jacques Lachelle's mouth. “You going to get yourself killed? Or bide your time,” he whispered.

  Jacques trembled, eyes wild, but nodded, and Jim let him go. Jacques took a deep breath and shuddered, bringing himself under control as a cold rage swallowed him whole. “Someday soon I kill dat mon.”

  “Only if you get to him first,” Jim swore.

  After a two day search, the Lachelle's found Jim wandering downtown Denver--a grief stricken hermit in a concrete desert. They had fed him and sheltered him for days until he regained his grip on reality. Then, after scavenging some candy and water from a burned out gas station, they started walking up highway 285 toward the Freeholds.

  Wrecked and abandoned vehicles littered the road, blocking it as thoroughly as the fallen Sheridan Street overpass. Many cars had exploded when fire balls or wildfires torched their gas tanks. The three of them struggled past, eyes averted from burnt wreckage filled with charcoal corpses wearing rictus screams. Eau de flesh and gasoline. A vision from a Stephen King nightmare, which only got worse when they were captured by Viper's men and marched back into town.

  Jim would never forget those first days after being captured. The sky was scary, growing murkier every day; but Viper was frightful, proclaiming that God was turning the whole world black to celebrate the rise of his chosen and the downfall of all who resisted Viper's will.

  Those police who remained on the job instead of fleeing to their families didn't have a chance. With roads ruined they couldn't patrol and they were trained to protect people's rights, not repel organized fanatics.

  Viper's army grew like a cancer as he swept through Denver murdering, enslaving, raping, and always, always, gathering food, guns, and recruits. Most of Denver had burned, or been ruined by the quakes, so those areas that still had intact houses or grocery stores were hotly contested. In firefights with Hispanic gangs and White Militia groups Viper prevailed, for he struck before others could even begin to recover and get organized.

  One memory was branded into Jim Cantrell's mind, driving home the lesson Viper wanted all to learn: Viper walking through a crowd of seated prisoners, escorted by armed bodyguards, stopping beside an old black man, one of numerous blacks who, like the Lachelles, refused to be recruited.

  “Why do you refuse to join me old man?”

  White-haired head turned and sad brown eyes met Viper's gaze. “Because what you are doing is wrong,” the old man replied.

  “I am never wrong,” Viper hissed, pulling his pistol from its holster.

  “Please,” the man said; fear flickering over his face, “You can't do this. It's against the law.”

  Viper sneered, “Let me tell you a little secret about the law, old man. When there's no one left to enforce it, it ceases to exist.”

  He placed his pistol against the man's head and pulled the trigger--a casual gesture, like flipping ash off a cigarette, then turned to the crowd.

  “My word is law. My will is all. And your survival, your very survival depends on pleasing me.”

  Viper was only partially right, Jim thought, shivering as he scanned the ever-darkening sky. Nature still has plenty to say about whether or not we survive.

  *

  Azusa, California

  Joseph Scarlatti flinched back behind a brick wall as a bullet from a hunting rifle thwocked into it. He waved his enormous arm in an encircling motion, pulled aside his dust mask and called to his men. “Get in position. No fires! We want the food and water intact!”

  He shouldn't have to remind them, but some of his soldiers were overzealous and others were plain damned stupid.

  The food and supplies in this Costco would last them for weeks if they could take it intact. And with his automatic weapons against pistols and rifles they should have no trouble.

  A whistle split the air, telling Joseph that Anthony and his men were in place on the roof. The roar of motors let him know John was ready to go. They were signaling with whistles because none of the radios he’d tried worked worth a damn and because the murky, dust and smoke-filled air made whistles more effective than flares or flags. It was so dark he could barely see the store and so cold he could see his breath. He never thought he’d miss cell phones so much but with all the towers down...oh, well, sure would make battlefield comms easier.

  He risked a peek around the corner and nodded to Jamal, who blew three sharp blasts.

  John skidded around the corner in an armored pickup like a madman left over from the Road Warriors movie set. Metal plate protected the radiator, tires, driver and gunners in the rear. A battering ram made from a reinforced trailer hitch bristled with spikes like a cowcatcher from hell. Machine guns raked the barricade at the front of the store, forcing the defenders heads down. Without missing a gear John gunned the truck forward. Three other identical vehicles followed in formation, slamming into the barricade.

  At this, Anthony and his men went to work, blowing four holes in the roof, dropping down and attacking from the rear. The gunmen in possession of the store, finding themselves outnumbered, outgunned, outflanked and out fought, quickly surrendered.

  Joseph zipped up his coat against the cold wind and strode forward swiftly to prevent a massacre. At this point in his grand plan of conquest he was more interested in recruits and slaves than dead bodies. Besides, he glanced at the ominous sky, knowing it was midday even though it was dark as night, if the food gave out before the skies cleared and weather got back to normal, live bodies would be useful.

  Joey was on the roll of his life, charging toward his destiny like a teenager racing a train. Time was of the essence. Every day his army grew along with the territory he controlled. Soon, others in what little remained of suburban LA would get the same idea and start organizing existing gangs into armies. But before anyone could mount a serious challenge Joey planned to have the region's entire food supply sewed up, for food would give him power even guns couldn't wrest.

  Civil and military authority had collapsed in the first two weeks as earthquakes, tidal waves, fires and floods devastated the infrastructure. The Governor tried to declare martial law, but with all communications down most National Guard companies failed to respond. A few U.S. military commands remained intact, hunkered down, and awaited orders that would never come; but most units disintegrated as officers and enlisted personnel left to care for their own families.

  Thick, choking air, lack of light, water, and food panicked millions who had remained steadfast during jolting quakes and blazing wild fires. Most who fled during those first couple of weeks died quickly--suffocated, crushed, incinerated or drowned. Many who stayed suffered the same fate, but tens of thousands still clung to life, and those people desperately sought some semblance of order, of a return to civilization.

  Joseph Scarlatti now saw himself as their savior; saw himself as their King.

  *

  Edwards Launch Facility

  “I don't like the looks of this,” Raoul said from the roof of the launch control building. Ariel and Sara squeezed their eyelids shut and wiped tears away to clear their vision. A line of smoke and flames stretched across the western horizon. The air reeked, stinging eyes and nasal passages, sulfurous from a nearby volcanic eruption. A small aftershock tickled the soles of their shoes.

  Sara gripped Ariel's arm as they swayed. “It's going to get worse?”

  “That's what Harry told Carl,” Ariel said. “Impact Winter. I hate to admit it but the theory is sound. If enough dust, smoke and debris remain in the atmosphere it will raise th
e Earth's albedo and reflect more heat from the sun back into space, lowering surface temperatures. Crops will fail; snow will build up, further raising the albedo. I suppose it could trigger a new Ice Age.”

  “Would it last that long?” Sara had decided to learn everything she could about what was happening to her world.

  “Who knows?” Raoul answered. “Depends on how much ejecta and smoke make it into the stratosphere I expect. Weather doesn’t normally reach up there so it will take quite a while to settle out. Volcanic gases won’t help either. Certainly months. Possibly years.”

  “I have some thoughts on that subject,” Carl Borzowski said as he joined them. “Been doing some calculations and if I'm right it'll be bad but not fatal.”

  “I thought you were trying to get the generators back on line,” Ariel said. Restoring power to the launch facility before the batteries in the computers expired was a number one priority. There had been no time to finish the backup before the disaster knocked out power.

  “I turned that over to General Mabry. The man's going nuts having to sit here and wait this out. He's built for action, not stasis, and this gives him something to do.” Carl eyed the horizon warily. “Anyhow, I figure that along with all the debris mucking up the air there's also several billion tons of additional water vapor in circulation. Albemarle Sound and a few hundred cubic miles of the Atlantic Ocean, remember?”

  A smile twitched at the corners of Raoul's mouth. He thought he saw where Carl was heading. A gust tugged at Carl's thin blonde hair and he absentmindedly swept it back in place...a losing battle.

  Ariel stepped in. “But won't that increase the Earth's reflectivity even more, and accelerate the temperature decline here at the surface?”