10:37 Page 8

  Ross hollered in to check on her, then said he was filling gas cans, he’d be back and for her to get supplies.

  She acknowledged his request and continued on. She combed her hair and pulled it as best as she could into a ponytail. It hurt to raise her arms, then she did an adequate job of rewrapping her ribs.

  Morgan took a while, but she felt so much better, and when she stepped out of the bathroom and looked to the right, she smiled.

  She remembered when Sheetz got their state permit to sell single serving beer and malt beverages and one of those Margaritas in a can sounded good while she sought out something to eat. She was hungry.

  She visually scanned the cooler, finding one of those margaritas on the shelf to the right. She opened the glass and reached in. Just as she touched the can, she gasped and stepped back, when a woman in an employee smock stood in the cooler directly behind the shelf.

  She was one of them. Her eyes were dead and she stared blankly at Morgan.

  For some odd reason, Morgan wasn’t scared. The woman must have been in there for days, she had a blue and hypothermia look to her, her lips were white and she huffed shallow breaths.

  Keeping an eye on her, Morgan quickly grabbed the can and shut the cooler. She retrieved the mop and stuck the end of it through the handles to brace the doors. She popped open the can and sipped while watching the woman in the cooler for a few seconds.

  Ross was still outside and while there were a bunch of snacks in the store, Morgan needed something with substance.

  Figuring since the electricity was on, chances were there were items in the fridge that were still good. It was only two days since the event happened.

  The grease in the fryers was cold, and they were off. Probably an automatic shut off to prevent fires. She grabbed a clean cloth, wiped off the counters and then after pulling a pack of buns, she opened them and laid them all out. She would make some sandwiches for them both.

  She pulled out the luncheon meats, sipped her margarita, then through the corner of her eyes, spotted one of those blenders for frozen coffee drinks.

  “Oh, wow.” she paused in the sandwich making to follow the directions on the wall and make herself a coffee shake.

  It actually went well with the margarita, sipping through the straw was tough, it hurt her ribs.

  She had both beverages going when she began her sandwich making stint.

  “That’s quite a contrast of drinks,” Ross said.

  Morgan wasn’t expecting his voice and jolted a little. “I was thirsty.”

  “I see that.” Ross stood on the other side of the counter.

  “Then I saw these.” She held up the coffee. “It’s refreshing.”

  “You look better.”

  “I washed my face. The pain pill is starting to wear off. Hence this…” She held up the margarita.

  “Did you grab supplies?”

  “No, I’m making sandwiches right now.”

  “Good thinking.”

  “Ross,” Morgan paused in her sandwich making. “You aren’t going to go off on your own or kill yourself, are you?” She listened, his footsteps stopped.

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “A feeling. You don’t talk to me. You shut down.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “I don’t believe that. We’re it, well with the exception of those people that are strange and the lady in the cooler.”

  “There’s a woman in the cooler?” Ross asked.

  “One of those Starers,” she said. “We’re it. I want to know who I’m traveling with and you should, too.”

  “Did you examine everything when you were married.”

  “I did. This situation makes me think you’re planning to kill yourself. It makes sense. You lost everything. I mean, it’s your choice. I will ask you not to, I hope that you wouldn’t, but it’s your choice. I just ask if you do, please let me know so I can be prepared and maybe get a chance to talk you out of it.”

  “You won’t have to. I won’t leave you or kill myself.” he said. “I faced that … I almost did.”

  The bread dropped from her hand and she turned around.

  “When I found my family, my gun, I just … had a moment of weakness. Then you called my name. I put the gun down.”

  “If you have a moment of weakness will you let me know? I’ll try to help you.”

  “I will,” he replied. “What about you? Are thinking about it?”

  “Not right now,” Morgan replied. “I did months ago. When my husband left me for some woman with three kids. That was fleeting, though. No, I didn’t really lose anything. I didn’t have friends, my family had already passed. I had no children. The way I see it, my ex-husband is dead so I don’t have to think about him with another woman, I have no deadlines on my job, I don’t have to worry about my high insurance payment and I’m out of debt.”

  Ross chuckled.

  “You smiled. That’s impressive considering everything.”

  “Well, I thought what you said was funny. I mean ...” Ross’ hands went to the counter.

  Morgan braced as well when the ground shook. Things clattered and the ground swayed.

  “Are you kidding me?” Ross asked. “Was that an earthquake? An earthquake in Pennsylvania?”

  “Probably. It’s not the first. There’s been many. You just don’t feel them.” Morgan answered almost nonchalantly, wrapping the sandwiches, placing them in a bag.

  “You’re not phased?”

  “Not at all. I was expecting it. You’ve shared your theories.” She handed him the bag. “When we settle for the night, I’ll share mine.”

  “Share now.”

  “It’s a little more difficult than that. My job was to be pretty anal,” she said. “I have visual aids.”

  SIXTEEN – VISION

  The prior evening, before the lights went out, before he heard from Ray of Sunshine, Judd read Dawson’s mother’s email. He was curious after finding the Dawson is ‘special’ email what it all meant. To him Dawson was a normal boy, not much different than Judd remembered being at that age.

  An email from Dawson’s teacher expressed concern about Dawson’s lack of being in touch with reality. How he would easily escape to a different mental world when things weren’t how he wanted them. Dawson’s mother insisted that her child had an odd and keen sense about him. He often said things, or told made up stories, that somehow would happen or come true.

  His teacher dismissed that. Judd guessed that was the reason she was writing the psychologist.

  Dawson was unique. Sometimes he seemed to childlike, maybe even younger than eight. Other times he seemed different and reasonable. Like after Judd went for Tire Man with a baseball bat.

  The second the Tire Man flinched, Judd couldn’t hit him. He was afraid of Judd and couldn’t communicate.

  Yet, Judd wasn’t completely trusting, After all, Chuck the Tire Man still stood in the yard staring with that dead pan look.

  Judd simply carried the bat back into the house and locked the doors.

  “Is he deaf?” Dawson asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean maybe that’s why he didn’t respond. He’s deaf.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Good thing you didn’t kill him,” Dawson said. “I can’t believe you wanted to kill a deaf guy.”

  “Dawson, I don’t think he’s deaf. Look at him. Something is not right.”

  “Yeah,” Dawson said. “He’s standing in the middle of the yard. It’s raining out and he doesn’t notice or know anything.”

  “That’s exactly it,” Judd said. “Brilliant. He doesn’t know anything.”

  “Think maybe his mind got erased?” Dawson asked. “One time my tablet fell in the toilet.”

  Judd looked at him oddly.

  “It wouldn’t start, but after my mom put it in rice, it did. However, it wasn’t the same and we had to redo the whole thing. She kept saying we restored it. Y
ou think maybe he fell like everyone else, but when he woke up he was restored, so he’s like a new tablet.”

  “Holy crap,” Judd scratched his head. “That’s pretty freaking brilliant dude.”

  “To make him the way he was you just have to download things. Teach him.”

  “Maybe. But I am not … teaching him anything.” Judd walked away.

  “Why not? Don’t you feel bad for wanting to kill him?” Dawson followed him into the kitchen.

  “No, absolutely not. Hopefully by tomorrow he’ll be gone. Even if he’s not, we have to go.”

  “Go where?” Dawson asked.

  “I don’t know. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” Judd sat at the table.

  “Does the survival book say anything?”

  “Just to keep moving, look for others but avoid dangerous groups,” Judd said.

  “That doesn’t sound very helpful.”

  Judd shook his head. “It’s not. We do need to go. The weather is bad, it’s getting worse and I think we need to get away from the city. With all the bodies out there, it’s not good. So …” Judd folded his hands on the table. “Any suggestions?”

  Dawson darted away into the other room and returned with a brochure. “Here. Can we go here? We were supposed to go there in three weeks. We were even getting a couple of days off school. My dad was gonna have a con... something.”

  “Conference?” Judd asked.

  “Yeah, that’s it. He was gonna do that and my mom was taking me to do the fun things. So can we?”

  Judd looked down at the brochure. On the cover was a family on an amusement park ride and another picture was of a small storybook town. “Branson, Missouri. Wait …wait … you woke up this morning shouting Branson.”

  Dawson nodded. ‘I was dreaming about it. I dreamt some man on a hill was waving his arm saying come to Branson.”

  Judd looked at Dawson then down to the pamphlet. More than likely, Dawson’s dream was because he was thinking of his parents. However, just on the outside chance that Rita was right and this was one of Dawson’s special moments, Judd wasn’t going to dismiss it. Branson was a distance away, but it looked nice. Judd knew when they finally left, they had to have a place to aim for. The affordable and fun family vacation spot of Branson, Missouri was a path to follow. Besides, a destination and direction was far better than wondering around aimlessly hoping to find a suitable end game.

  SEVENTEEN – PLAUSIBLE

  Ross gave a lot of thought to what Morgan asked. Did he want to kill himself? He was glad he was honest and told her that it had crossed his mind. Even though he didn’t want to die, he still had no idea why he wanted to live.

  The rain was steady. Oddly heavy and steady and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. When he commented on it, Morgan kept saying, “It makes sense.” Almost like a verbal trailer to her big theory.

  “Morgan, this isn’t a company presentation,” Ross told her. “What do you think happened?”

  “Wait.”

  He groaned about her response as they made their way, convenience store bags packed, to the Motel 6. It was difficult to figure out what rooms were empty and what rooms weren’t. The last thing he needed to do was find a room with bodies.

  The computer system was rocket science to him. They figured it out but ended up just staying in the lobby. It had the small table area where the hotel served continental breakfast and the lobby had two couches.

  Ross cleared the three bodies from the lobby and Morgan found an empty room and used that to shower. After Ross had gotten the lobby in order he set up his radio he brought from home and then found some blankets. Then he too took a shower and changed into clean clothes.

  He felt better after cleaning up and changing clothes and was surprised when he returned to the lobby and found Morgan had set one of the tables for a meal.

  “That’s odd,” he said.

  “You don’t have to sit here with me. I just thought it would be nice to stop and eat. As much as you say I need to heal, you do as well.”

  “Thank you.” He pulled out a chair and his eyes drifted to the lobby window. "I can’t believe how bad it’s raining. Please don’t tell me it makes sense.”

  “It does though.” Morgan said a bit frustrated he kept dismissing her idea before he heard it.

  Ross sat down. “Are you gonna tell me your theory?”

  “Yes.” Morgan lifted her purse, reached in and then placed a stack of folded papers on the table.

  “What’s this?”

  “Visual aids.”

  “You printed up things to support your theory?”

  Morgan nodded.

  “So why don’t you just tell me?” Ross asked.

  “Last night, before the lights went out, I went on line. I started thinking about what happened, people just dropping like that. I felt like I was suffocating which tells me something in the air changed. Even just a smidgeon, it could cause asphyxiation. You called it an atmospheric blip.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Ross said.

  “Anyhow I thought what if it was a chemical weapon or virus, how would it get across the globe, I started looking at prevailing winds, global winds, and jet streams.” She lifted out a sheet of paper and unfolded it.

  “Westerlies and trade winds I assume.”

  “Yes, now bear with me.” Morgan said with irritation.

  “Oh, I have nowhere else to go. Go on.” Ross replied sarcastically.

  “A weapon would dissipate becoming less deadly. How do you get everyone on earth to drop dead at the same time? I kept thinking atmosphere.”

  “Everyone didn’t drop at the same time. I think it started in the Marshall Islands.”

  “Or that area, so I started searching. Atmosphere, oxygen, that sort of stuff. Then bam! I found it.”

  “Okay, I’m game. What?”

  “Geoengineering and cloud seeding.”

  Ross sat back. “Geo what?”

  “Geoengineering is when you deliberately manipulate the climate and weather to fight the effects of global warming.”

  “Weather manipulation, like the HAARP. Morgan said.

  So you think this geo thing caused people to drop dead?” Ross asked shaking his head.

  “It’s two things. Cloud seeding being the start. It’s been going on since the nineteen fifties,” she said. “United States did it all the time. They fly a plane, drop chemicals into a cloud, which produces rain. That’s the simple method... however…” She pulled another sheet of paper forward. “China does it on a grander scale. The night of the 2008 Olympics they launched eleven hundred rockets into the sky to prevent rain. They don’t drop down on the clouds they shoot rockets up. They’ve been doing this for decades. Fire a thousand rockets for rain, fire a thousand rockets for dry. China really took an extreme route to manipulate their climate. I’d say look it up, but the internet is now down.”

  “That was fast.”

  “Yeah,” Morgan said. “Think about it. Rockets, Ross. Every major holiday, every national day, they do this. Here’s where it gets good and makes total sense. Three days ago, they launched fifteen hundred rockets in an attempt to create snow, and New Zealand, with help from the UN, on the same day did the same thing only they wanted it for drought. All you need is for them to miss the mark and punch into the mesosphere. Even as far-fetched as it sounds, what if it was just done one time too many?”

  Ross took in what she said, listening intently, rubbing his face. He looked at her perplexed.

  “Now you have a breach of atmosphere, the weather goes haywire, and we get crazy storms. All that water dumping into the ocean at once causes the plates to shift, and now we have earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. Things will get messy fast and worse than anything we've seen.”

  “So in a nut shell, rockets fired to the sky one too many times, punch a hole into the mesosphere, the oxygen balance goes off a smidgeon, people choke and die, then the weather goes haywire. Explain us and how we're alive”

&
nbsp; “I can’t explain you, but I know me, my heart was racing out of control, what if that had something to do with it. When you’re anxious, you’re breathing is off, it becomes faster. What were you doing?”

  “Trying to stay calm.”

  “See?” Morgan nodded. “This is it.”

  “What about the, what did you call, them Starers?”

  “They suffered lack of oxygen to the brain.” Morgan said matter of fact. “When they woke, they were able to function just not the way they remember so they act on instinct.”

  Ross mumbled his thoughts. “Instinct. Tanner was violent … no.” He stood up. “No. This is science fiction. While I appreciate this theory, I really do, but please forgive me when I say this is crazy.”

  “It’s plausible.” Morgan stated emphatically.

  “You did all this work, all this research, why?” Ross asked curiously.

  “I need to know what happened.”

  “But you’ll never know,” Ross said. “Ever! Not for certain.”

  “This feels right,” Morgan said quietly.

  “Did you ever stop to think it was just an act of God, that maybe God said enough is enough.”

  Morgan laughed.

  “That’s funny?”

  “Yeah, it is. I can’t just accept and say,” She deepened her voice. “Oh God did this. I can’t. Besides, didn’t the bible say he would never destroy the earth again?”

  “No,” Ross answered. “He would never flood the earth again.”

  “There you have it. We’re probably gonna get a flood. A big one, too. All this rain, earthquakes, shifting … flood. If that happens it’s not God or else he broke His promise. This…” She tapped on the table. “Is something. If we, or at least I … follow this theory, I can at least rationalize what is happening.”

  “All this …” he sat back down and shuffled through the papers. “Why did you print a picture of the globe.”

  “Trade winds and Westerlies? I was trying to see if maybe there was a pattern that this atmospheric blip followed. Maybe areas that weren’t hit by the oxygen depletion.”

  “And you think there might be some area?”

  “Yeah, at least not hit as bad.”

  “Like where?” Ross asked.