Desolation

The church’s tower, already devastated by gunfire and cracked in half by the earthquake, started its hundred-foot descent. When that hit the ground, much of the rest of the church collapsed in on itself, killing everyone who had sought protection inside its holy walls.

~~~

Sue Larimore looked up and was shocked to realize she was almost at street level and in plain view of the army of men who were less than a block away. They picked themselves and their weapons up off the street, unsettled but not dissuaded by the first earthquake to hit Laramie in more than one hundred years. One of the intruders caught a glimpse of Sue and yelled, “Two o’clock. Female.” He raised his automatic rifle and fired. Sue had already bolted toward the back of what had been the building, now an uneven pile of bricks carpeted in white and gray-red debris. She slipped just out of the rifle’s aim, narrowly escaping death for the second time in a few short minutes, wondering if her husband had been as lucky.

~~~

Carrington forced himself up off the tangled clutter that had been the roof when he noticed that the back half of the building, including the stairwell he had just ascended, was completely gone. More importantly, the cables connecting to the stored energy in the capacitors were severed. The Zeus weapon, the corner of the building it had been resting on, and Fred Fisher were all gone. “Fred, are you alive?” Carrington called out as he ran to the edge of the sea of bricks and debris. The weapon was partially sticking out of one of the piles, shattered beyond repair. Beside it, one cream-colored penny loafer still held Fred’s severed foot, the bright teal sock soaked in crimson.

Carrington sat down in a heap, all his energy spent, consumed by a feeling that their hope of their survival was falling away.

40. Collect Call

Fossil Ridge, Illinois

The whole world around them rolled and growled as the earth below let out a long rumble, one that had been building up under the New Madrid fault line since 1811. The last CMEs awoke this terror, which shook off its long sleep with apparent sadistic delight.

Paul Agabus Fairhaven, or simply the Teacher, had put in a call to God through his prayers. Often, he heard no response. No feelings, no visions, no signs, no evidence of direct replies. Today, right now, God answered.

Paul felt the ground lift him up and drop him down, and then toss his body from side to side, like a discarded bag of trash rattling around inside a partially empty garbage truck. The wood Tudor house he had taken for his own creaked loudly, as if it were being ripped to pieces from foundation to roof. Dust kicked up from its haunches, and torn lath and old paint rained down on him from above. Glass from windows, doors, and mirrors was smashed, tossing shards everywhere, including onto him. Yet, he didn’t move. God was talking to him, knocking him about to get his attention.

A vivid memory once more filled his head, an epoch for him that changed his life’s course. His mother was staying with Grandma in another state and she had left him her number, for emergencies, with a warning to call collect, to reverse the charges. Paul hated his step-father, whose drinking and abuse had grown with each passing day of separation from his mother. One day, he had forgotten to call her collect and talked to her for a long time begging her to come back soon. When his step-father arrived from the bar and found out his call wasn’t collect, he went crazy. Paul never learned whether the source of the rage was the cost of the call or the depth of jealousy. Regardless, his father had beaten him worse than God was beating him now.

And for Paul, God always accepted the charges.

~~~

Wright Ranch, Illinois

Unable to hold onto his rifle, John Parkington let it go and turned onto his back to take in the sun once more. His body started to shake. He heard rumbling sounds all around him. Who knew death was so loud? So active? His foggy eyes squinted, trying to focus on the wind turbine that seemed to be signaling him.

“J O H N D E A—”

The tower holding Buck and the wind turbine, firmly mounted to the rocky base of the ridge overlooking the Wrights’ ranch, started to move. It creaked and groaned, and then its metal supports weakened further to an over-powering force. The tower pitched back and then forward fiercely. Pushed to their limits, the metal supports let go, releasing the tower, turbine, and its one occupant down to the earth, where it crashed into a bramble of disconnected pieces, like discarded dinosaur bones. Even dinosaurs had their weaknesses.

John knew what this meant, feeling sadness for his new friend’s loss , but he also felt bathed in peace, his own pain now gone along with his fear. He prayed his son would fare well and that his wife and his friends would also. He closed his eyes and welcomed the everlasting light he knew would come.

~~~