10:37 Page 18

  They believed the water was going to keep on rising for a while so they were headed to high elevation areas.

  “It will end up becoming a whole new geographical world,” Bill told them.

  Dawson didn’t know what that meant. He half listened. He was more concerned about Judd. He didn’t want to leave him, he couldn’t leave him.

  “I’m sorry, little man, I really am.” Ross said. “We’re going to get cleaned up and get some new clothes. You wanna come, or stay here?”

  “I want to stay with Judd for a little bit.”

  “Okay you do that. Listen,” Ross crouched down. “You’re not alone. You have us, alright. We’re here for you.”

  Dawson nodded.

  “Will he be okay?” Morgan asked.

  “I’m here,” Sister Helena said. “I’ll stay. Go get fresh clothes.”

  Dawson sat on the floor by Judd’s covered body. At least they didn’t leave him behind.

  The chopper could have left Judd, but the pilot didn’t.

  They airlifted them all, one by one, including Judd into the chopper.

  Because of the radio calls, they knew there was an injured man, and a paramedic was on board. He tried with diligence to revive Judd the entire short flight to Branson, but it was futile.

  Dawson wanted to cry, he just couldn’t believe his friend was gone. He was in shock. He kept waiting for Judd to open his eyes. He never did. He died with the guitar in his hands.

  The adults around him talked about a reason for this and a reason for that. Dawson wanted and needed a reason why Judd left him. However, nobody could give him one.

  Judd made a promise and kept it.

  He kept Dawson safe all the way to Branson.

  That meant something to Dawson. He knew his parents would be happy about that. All those people Dawson knew were now gone, those he loved … gone. It was now his job, his responsibility to keep them alive, to honor them. His parents … and Judd.

  Even at his young age, he knew the best way to do that was to live and survive.

  It would be a different way of life, but he would give it his best shot.

  He didn’t really have a choice. His parents and Judd would have wanted that.

  EPILOGUE – SEVEN YEARS LATER

  His knuckles made a popping noise when he clenched his cramping fingers into a fist. “Damn it,” Dawson shook his hand.

  “Language.” Came the voice in another room.

  “He heard that?” Dawson shook his head. “Man.”

  He lay on his single bed in a bedroom he shared in the three room apartment in Leadville Nine. It was small, but it was home. Everything was neat and tidy, always, except his corner of the room.

  Note book sprawled out next to him, Dawson lifted a pencil, wrote a sentence, bobbed his head, hummed a little, then stuck the pencil in his mouth before working out the chord progression on the guitar.

  He had it. He almost had it when there was a knock on his door.

  “Aw, man.”

  It opened and Ross stepped in. “Hey, now, let’s go. You know Joe only comes to do hair once a month. You miss this appointment I’m cutting your hair myself.”

  Dawson groaned. The last time Ross cut his hair it was horrible. He was twelve and Ross made so many mistakes Dawson ended up nearly bald.

  Dawson used to say he got stuck with Ross. When they arrived in Leadville after the events, it was supposed to be temporary, but they never left.

  Ross immediately ‘claimed’ him, telling Dawson, “I had children, I can do this. Okay?”

  “Yeah okay.” Dawson was eight. He figured that was what he had to do.

  Ross wasn’t a bad guy, he was tough and strict yet Dawson was really glad he had him.

  Ross immediately was given a job in security enforcement and was one of the main men that built the small living complexes.

  “We’ll go somewhere else one day,” Ross would say. Dawson was still waiting. He figured by now it wasn’t going to happen, because with each passing year, Ross had even more responsibility.

  Every civilization, at least the functioning ones, were so far apart and separated by the new lakes, the only way there was by boat. It took a lot of bartering to even get passage.

  North of the Rockies, there was a lot of area not flooded, but the land was overrun with Trancers, there were more of them than people who were normal. Everyone kept saying they’d die out, but they never did.

  Dawson fully believed they were the new evolution of man.

  Ross told him it was nonsense.

  Life was simple. He got up, went to school and then work. At fifteen he had a job, everyone over the age of thirteen did. He worked in pickling and hated it. Leadville Nine was the smallest of the twelve complexes. A hundred and thirteen people lived there. They farmed their own section and bartered with neighboring villages.

  When he was younger he used to think that Ross and Morgan would end up together. They never got along, they always fought. Dawson remembered how she used to be. She ended up being pretty nice. She married a guy in Leadville Seven and had two kids. He visited her every week.

  Sister Helena was the one only one who left the mountain and was teaching in California somewhere. She took a boat and only came back three times in the past seven years.

  He missed her, he thought of her, but rarely saw her. That was life now.

  “Hey.” Ross snapped his finger. “Are you listening?”

  “I almost have this,” Dawson said. “I really do.”

  “I know, but your hair is too long. It needs to be cut. I want to spend time with you. Hang out. Can you please put down the guitar? I know it’s hard to do, it's like an extension of your body.”

  Dawson laughed. “Alright He grabbed a cloth, wiped off the neck of the guitar to free it from smudges, then gently set it on his bed. The guitar meant a lot to Dawson. It hadn’t left his side since it left Judd’s hands.

  “Can you clean up this mess later?” Ross asked.

  “Aw, man, you kill me.” Dawson groaned.

  “No, you … kill me.” Ross mussed his shaggy hair. “Let’s go. We won’t be long.”

  Dawson nodded as he reached down and closed his notebook.

  “You writing a new song?” Ross asked.

  “Yeah, I am. Trying to anyways.”

  “Can I hear it?”

  “When we get back.” Dawson followed him through the door.

  “What’s it called?”

  “It’s called …. Call me Mr. Heston.”

  Closed mouth, Ross nodded. “Good title.”

  “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

  The title was good and had more meaning than Ross probably would understand.

  Life wasn’t all that exciting for Dawson, however it was good in its own way. He had his music, he had Ross, and he had his memories.

  In a world that was tossed upside down, Dawson had landed on his feet.

  Before leaving with Ross, Dawson looked back once at the guitar on his bed and pulled the door closed with a smile.

  <><><><>

  Thank you so much for diving into this book. I hope you enjoyed it.

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  Table of Contents

  10:37

  ONE – THE FALL

  TWO – WAKE

  THREE – POOR THING

  FOUR – Who Are you

  FIVE – BAD CHOICES

  SIX – PAIRING

  SEVEN – RELUCTANT

  EIGHT – CONNECT

  NINE – ANSWERS ARE NIL

  TEN – FLAT TIRE

  ELEVEN – TROMP

  TWELVE - STUDY

  THIRTEEN – BOURBON, TEARS AND GUESTS

  FOURTEEN – DAZED

&
nbsp; FIFTEEN – DIRECTION

  SIXTEEN – VISION

  SEVENTEEN – PLAUSIBLE

  EIGHTEEN – DIVIDE

  NINETEEN – FULL HOUSE

  TWENTY – ONWARD

  TWENTY-ONE – CONCERT OF ARMS

  TWENTY-TWO – CHASING RAINBOWS

  TWENTY-THREE – ROLL BY

  TWENTY-FOUR – DASHING MEMORIES

  TWENTY-FIVE - SPOT

  TWENTY-SIX – NUN OF THAT

  TWENTY-SEVEN – CONSCIENCE

  TWENTY-EIGHT – HOLY INFORMATION

  TWENTY-NINE – REGRET

  THIRTY – FOUND

  THIRTY-ONE – COPE

  THIRTY-TWO – FIGURE

  THIRTY-THREE - PLAN

  THIRTY-FOUR – FREEZER

  THIRTY-FIVE – RATTLED

  THIRTY-SIX – FORTUNE AND FAME

  THIRTY-SEVEN – LAST CHORD

  THIRTY-EIGHT – BRANSON

  EPILOGUE – SEVEN YEARS LATER