Curtain Fall: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 1) (40 page)

The man was clearly an emotional wreck, and John realized that if he put any emphasis on his wife’s dream, it would only make matters worse. It was obvious to John that Paul was feeling very insecure about the dream, so he decided to let it go and reroute the conversation.

“The eruption started all the earthquakes,” added John.

“Really?” said Paul. “But I thought . . .”

“I know,” interrupted John, “it’s far away. But it was a really big eruption, Paul. I’m thinking we’ll see ash here within the next twelve to twenty-four hours,” said John.

Paul’s eyes got big, and he said, “You’re kidding. That’s impossible.”

“I wish I was, but I studied the Yellowstone Caldera. I know what the eruption means to us, to life in our country. Your wife’s right, you should go buy as much food as you can, and you should do it as soon as possible,” said John.

Without saying a word, Paul turned and jogged off the front steps and toward the van. He paused mid-way down the walkway and said, “Thanks, John!” before turning back for the van.

John yelled after him, “And water! Collect and store as much as you can!”

Paul waved a reply while he jogged and John watched him climb into the driver’s seat and start the van. His wife waved once as they sped away, and John tried to recall her first name. He thought it was Maria, but he couldn’t remember. It had been too long since their last meeting. He waved back from the bench and watched the van disappear over the rise and away from the neighborhood.

John wondered how successful they’d be in finding food. If rioting started in the big cities, then it was only a matter of time before it started in the smaller towns as well. He knew getting caught up in a food riot was a good way to get hurt, but they didn’t have any choice. John hoped they’d find something, and then get home before things got worse.

Food riots boiled down to a fear response. And as far as John was concerned, if you were afraid of not having enough food, then it was already too late. Still, he believed there was hope for the Hernandez’s if they acted fast.

John looked up into the darkening sky and considered Paul’s words about Maria’s dream. It was a strange feeling to have such dreams, and
stranger still to learn that others also had them. He wondered about the depth of Maria’s dreams, and hoped he would have a chance to talk with her about it someday.

John believed everyone dreamed, but he learned long ago that not all people remembered their dreams, and if they did remember them, they didn’t consider them important or serious enough to ponder, let alone record. But John knew better. He might not be a dedicated church-goer, but he believed in God.

In fact, even before the visits from Eli, John believed his dreams were gifts from God. He felt they were messages. Sometimes those messages were direct and literal, but most of the time they were symbolic, and he needed time to understand and interpret them. Either way, he never discounted the importance of his dreams. It just bothered him that he didn’t always understand them.

He liked the story about Joseph, and how he was able to interpret Pharaoh’s dream and become a man of great influence in Egypt. To John, such a gift was rare, much rarer than having dreams, as Pharaoh had proved. If a pagan idol worshiper could have such a revelatory dream, then why not other people?

When John had his first prophetic dream in 2008, it scared and confused him, and for the first time he was able to relate to Pharaoh’s frustration. He too wished he had someone like Joseph to interpret his dream. John wondered if Maria felt the same way about her dream. Maybe if they shared their dreams they could help each other understand them.

John didn’t consider himself Pharaoh, and certainly not a prophet, or dream interpreter like Joseph, but he knew his dreams meant something. It was obvious they communicated the coming disaster, but he wanted to know why. What was it about the dreams that made him different?

He was deep in such thoughts when Adam stepped through the open front door and asked, “Dad, are you okay?”

John looked at Adam and saw the concern on his face. He smiled and said, “Yeah, I’m fine. Is mom wondering why I’m not finishing my dinner?”

“Yeah. She sent me to tell you its getting cold,” replied Adam.

“You’re right,” said John, as he stood and gestured Adam through the front door. “After you, sir.”

After closing and locking the front door, John followed Adam to the kitchen and joined everyone at the table. He could see they slowed down to wait for him, but he also noticed Jenna’s concern. John smiled in an effort to reassure her, and turned his attention to his meal. The family ate in silence, everyone apparently lost in their own thoughts about what was going on around them.

When dinner was over, the kids began to clear the table and wash the dishes, but only because it was their turn. John and Jenna took that opportunity to talk quietly together in the living room. She grabbed John’s hand as they sat together on the couch, and asked, “What happened at the front door that upset you so much?”

John sighed and said, “Nothing really. It was Paul . . . from around the loop. He wanted my opinion on the disaster.”

Jenna was silent, which told John she knew there was more to the story, so she waited. Eventually, after a long moment of stubborn silence, she finally asked, “And what did he say to upset you?”

“Not upset me,” replied John. “But he did say something to make me think. He said Maria had a dream about the disaster.”

“Maria? Do you mean, Marissa?” asked Jenna.

“Is that her name? Marissa?” asked John with a scowl.

“Yes, dear. Her name is Marissa. You didn’t call her Maria, did you?”

“No, she stayed in the car. Paul was the only one at the door.”

“What is it with you and names,” said Jenna.

“I know . . . seriously.”

“So why did what he said about her dream bother you so much?” asked Jenna.

“I don’t know,” replied John. “But I would like to talk to her about it. It’s just interesting to me, that’s all. It’s the first time I heard of someone else having a dream about the disaster before it happened.”

They sat together quietly, hearing the playful banter of the kids, but not paying any attention to when they were saying. Jenna was the first to break the silence by asking, “Is there anything else you want to accomplish before we go to bed?”

“I was thinking about covering the back door as well. I’m not worried about the side door because the glass is coated with security film, but I’m thinking we need to cover it with a blanket . . . like a curtain,” said John.

Jenna nodded and said, “Do you want me to make a curtain for the side door window?”

“That would be nice, but I’m thinking we’ll need curtains for all the windows, even that one,” said John, as he pointed to the large entryway window in the alcove above the front door.

“I can do that, but can it wait till tomorrow?” asked Jenna.

“I’m tired too. I think we should call it a day.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to knock you out and drag you to bed,” said Jenna.

John missed Jenna’s playful comment and said, “Once the ash starts falling, I think we should use only the side entrance. I think I’m gonna brace the front and back doors with lumber.”

“Didn’t you install a security frame around the front door? Why do you want to brace it? It’s a solid oak door,” added Jenna.

John remembered the instillation of the front door. He didn’t like the cheap door the original owner had installed, so he had a custom door made from solid oak. It weighed close to three-hundred pounds, and needed a custom steel frame to support it for hanging. No one could breach their front door with anything less than serious military hardware, such as a breaching charge.

John knew the door was solid and very tough, but he was thinking about how to control access when it needed to be opened. “You’re right,”
he said, “but I was thinking about setting something up that would allow one person to come in at a time. You know, to open just wide enough for someone to squeeze through. And when the door’s closed, I can add a piece of lumber to brace it even better.”

“I understand what you’re saying,” said Jenna. “But I like the idea of being able to use the front door. I think it’s better to block the side and back doors and leave the front door alone.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but let’s talk about it later. I’ve got a headache,” said John, and he kissed Jenna.

They embraced and began to share a long, passionate kiss. It was too quiet in the kitchen, and Jenna broke contact to giggle. John turned and saw Adam and Abby staring at them from the kitchen doorway.

“Really guys?” asked John. “Do you have to stare at us when we kiss? It’s not the first time you know.”

“Not all sloppy like now,” replied Adam.

“Adam!” gasped Jenna.

“I think it’s romantic,” added Abby.

“Thank you, Abby,” replied Jenna and John simultaneously. They looked at each other and kissed again, much to their children’s disgust and entertainment.

A
fter taking a few aspirin, John sat down and drafted out a plan for his front door brace. He then excused himself from the house and went out back to the shop. John wanted to maximize his time with the power on, so he decided to cut the lumber and have it ready for the morning.

When John returned to the house, he found Adam asleep on the family room sofa with the Xbox running quietly in the background. He turned it off and woke Adam gently to send him upstairs to bed. Normally Adam would spend hours on the gaming consul, and play easy till midnight when John would pull the plug.

Apparently hard work had a way of diminishing Adam’s gaming stamina, and for that John was grateful. He hated how much time Adam devoted to gaming, but his grades were excellent, and he stayed out of trouble, so he allowed it. Still, he knew those days were coming to a close. When the disaster hit, his gaming concerns would take care of themselves.

John heard Jenna and Abby upstairs. It sounded like they were prepping blankets for the windows, so he decided not to bother them; besides, they sounded like they were having a really good time together, more girl talk, as Jenna liked to call it.

He stopped to look at the nearest boarded up window and decided to cover the inside opening with heavy plastic. Though he didn’t feel any air rushing in along the seams, he still wanted to seal the windows from the possibility of ash. But like the door brace, hanging plastic would also require Adam’s help, so it would also have to wait till tomorrow.

John was about to head back to the shop to carry in the lumber for the door brace, when he heard a knock at the front door. He flipped on the patio light and looked through the peep-hole. Paul and Marissa were standing together under the patio light, looking tired and stressed.

John unlatched the door and opened it wide. They shared a look of dread on their faces, and he invited them in without hesitation. Paul nodded and silently ushered Marissa through the door and into the entryway. They stood, looking lost and dejected. John closed the door and was about to offer them something to drink when Jenna appeared at the top of the stairs and said, “Marissa . . . it’s so good to see you again.”

Jenna walked gracefully down the stairs, and when she reached the bottom she embraced Marissa with a friendly hug. “Long time no see. Hi Paul,” she said, with an offered hand. “How are you?”

“Thanks for inviting us in. I hope you don’t mind. I just wanted to chat with John for a minute,” said Paul.

“Oh. Not at all. And the kids?” asked Jenna.

“They’re waiting in the van . . . we parked in the driveway. I hope you don’t mind,” said Paul.

“Not at all,” said John. “Why don’t you bring them in?”

“They’re fine in the van. Marcus is watching them,” said Paul. “Besides, we won’t be long. I’m sorry for bothering you this late, but I wanted to thank you for your help.”

“My help?” asked John.

“Yeah. You see, I didn’t believe Marissa . . . that things would get bad,” said Paul. “Even with the news reports about the rioting and all, I didn’t think it would happen here. She wanted me to go food shopping this morning, but I didn’t listen to her, I . . .”

Marissa put a hand on Paul’s shoulder and he turned to look at her before continuing. “I know I should have listened to her . . . I should have. She told me to come check with you, to ask for advice. I wish I came earlier,” said Paul, as he lowered his head.

John knew he had more to say, so he waited patiently for him to continue. But then Jenna took Marissa by the elbow and said, “Come sit for a moment, dear,” as she led her to the living room.

John and Paul watched the interaction, and John was about to offer the same when Paul said, “We apologize for the intrusion Mrs. Anderson . . . I won’t be long.”

“Nonsense, and please, call me Jenna. Come, sit with your wife,” offered Jenna.

Paul nodded and John followed him into the living room. When Jenna had them both on the couch, she offered to get them refreshments. They politely declined, so Jenna sat on the padded armchair next to John.

“So, what can we do for you?” asked John.