Meteor (15 page)

Troy noticed Mary trembling as they shuffled past the blown out square set in the wall where the incinerator had been mounted. He placed a heavy arm around her shoulder and drew her to his side, kissing her forehead as he did.

It was crazy that it had taken an apocalypse to bring them back to themselves but here they were. Mary’s affair could never be forgotten but at least for now, Troy had forgiven. He wondered if she would forgive him for the things he had been forced to do to keep them safe.

They were both technically murderers now, along with many other people they had once trusted, Troy was sure. His wife had watched him let three men die on the expanse of lawn they had just crossed. She knew he had shot a man on a supply run. He knew she had turned two men into human torches to keep herself and the girls safe. Troy knew for himself that he couldn’t judge her. He just questioned whether she felt the same way.

The group finally assembled all together in the living room of the shelter. Caleb had told the truth. No major damage was done there. The couch and television were untouched by the flames and though the smell of smoke was overwhelming, everyone agreed they could tolerate it for a few minutes.

“Let’s hope there’s still news to be had,” Troy said to the room. “I don’t know how these networks have kept things going. I mean the reporters, personally. I know the stations have back-up power sources and things like that.” Troy shook his head in disbelief. Somehow the world tried to cling to whatever level of civilization it had before, at least some people do. The brutal contingents that they had encountered so far actually represented a small portion of what was left. The television clicked on with an audible pop as Mary pressed the power button and stood back out of the way, arms wrapped around her torso.

“…reports coming in from our affiliate stations on the southern half of the globe speak of more mass destruction caused by widespread and violent earthquakes. The latest one in Haiti ranked 7.5 on the Richter scale. This is not the worst earthquake recorded in human history, no, that one occurred in Chile back in 1960 and earned a 9.5 rating. But, make no mistake, viewers, scientists are saying to expect more devastation at the hands of Mother Nature.

“This recent earthquake in Haiti has proven to be catastrophic. Floods alone are believed to have taken over 3,000 lives not to mention the people who are still unaccounted for. Experts on the subject predict that every nation in the world will experience some form of earthquake but as of right now there is no predicting where one will strike next. I’m going to turn it over to Samantha Browne for some tips on how to be prepared for these events. Samantha?”

In a different room at the CNN studios, a pretty blonde seated next to a tall man in a button up shirt came into view on the screen. Troy picked up the remote and pressed the channel up button twice to try the local station.

‘What are you doing?” Mary asked with an angry look on her face. “I wanted to hear that.”

“I want to know what’s happening right here in Tennessee, Mary. What we can do here. What to watch out for.”

As the program came into focus between lines of static, Brandon stood up to adjust the metal antennas. Troy had had no idea that those would actually work when he brought the old TV into the bunker, but he was so relieved when they had proven themselves operational a few months ago. They did not fail him now, either. Brandon resettled on the couch next to Hannah and everyone listened intently to what the man on the television was saying.

“This is Frank Wellborn coming to you from the Fox 12 studios here in Nashville,” said a well-dressed man seated behind a news desk. The studio from which he was broadcasting was noticeably darker than in previous broadcasts. A slight hum was audible in the background, a sure sign that a generator was keeping the news station going. Rather than feeling afraid, the group felt comforted by this. “We want to go now to Sharon Barnes who is out in the field with her cameraman looking at the devastation created here by this morning’s freak earthquake.”

“Thanks, Frank. I’m here on the main thoroughfare in Music Row in downtown Nashville and if you’ll take a look behind me, I think the destruction is very evident. Many historic buildings are in shambles this evening. This street was home to many prominent recording studios and music venues so there was, as you can imagine, no shortage of neon signage, much of which is now lying in rubble beneath our feet, Frank.”

“Any word on fatalities or injuries, Sharon?”

“Yes, Frank, the current reports are saying that there are 19 confirmed fatalities and countless more minor injuries, most from falling or flying objects that were upset during the earthquake. We are unaccustomed to hazards such as an earthquake in this part of the world, Frank, and this one certainly caught our citizens unawares.” The camera continued to pan across the destroyed street as Sharon Barnes stopped talking. Medics could be seen clearly in the background, stepping carefully over crumbled bricks and beams.

“Right now, Frank, rescue efforts are still going strong at the scene of one of Nashville’s tallest structures, the Viridian Tower. The Tower is… or was, rather, a residential structure. I’m told many residents managed to evacuate,” the camera cut to a group of worried looking people milling about, many in bare feet and robes or pajamas, “but many others are trapped inside. As you can see, the top portion has collapsed. Looks like the top four floors or so, and a massive crack is running down the other side. Local police and emergency units are working hard to get everyone out safely.”

“Oh my God,” Cordelia said. Mary ran a motherly hand over Cordelia’s long hair and rubbed her shoulder before turning her full attention back to the news.

Frank’s hand went up to his earpiece as he interrupted Sharon. “Hold on Sharon, our producers want me to cut to footage from a summit that is being held in China, discussing the future impacts the meteor could have on the world.”

The smoke-scented air inside the bunker was completely silent. Everyone leaned forward on their feet to not miss a word of the broadcast. Dust motes mingled with tiny bits of ash floated around everyone in a chilly breeze that blew in from the yard.

Troy glanced at the assembled people and furrowed his brow when he noted Brandon and Hannah’s fingers interlaced and laying on the couch between their thighs. He bit his bottom lip as he studied them and nearly tore his bottom lip in two as the silence was broken by the loud jangling of the radiation meter.

A startled response blew through the group and Hannah dropped Brandon’s hand. Disappointment flickered across his face but he turned to find the source of the ringing along with everyone else.

“Shit, that’s loud,” Caleb said as he walked toward the ash-covered kitchen counter to pick up the little piece of metal that apparently survived the fire completely unscathed. The small silver disc had been largely forgotten in the morning’s excitement and danger, but it made itself known now with its persistent ringing. It drowned out the TV so Troy turned the volume down until the disc had finished its report.

“Carbon Monoxide levels undetectable. No carbon monoxide detected in the environment. No risk, repeat, no risk. Radiation levels safe, repeat, no lethal levels of radiation detected.”

The disc popped shut as it quieted and Troy said, “Well, now that the door is blown off the place, sounds like it’s safe to stay here. For our lungs anyway.” His mouth turned up at the corners briefly and tiny twitters sounded from everyone in the room. They had to laugh to keep from crying.

“Well, at least two of our immediate problems have disappeared. Way to look on the bright side, man.” Caleb leaned over the back of the couch, grabbing the remote to turn the volume back up.

The screen was now filled with a low-tech graphic demonstrating the shifting of the earth’s plates. A group of disheveled scientists, all dressed similarly in wrinkled khakis made predictions as one of their number used a computer to highlight various regions on the map.

“It’s all guesswork, really. We predict at least three more major earthquakes with multiple smaller aftershocks throughout North and South America, certainly in Africa, in all the regions surrounding the melting meteor, and Asia. We know these events will likely rate higher on the Richter scale than the last quakes due to the new distance between the plates. More room to knock together actually makes things worse.” Frank Wellborn nodded thoughtfully and feigned understanding but Troy thought he looked lost and afraid underneath the stoic façade.

“Flip back to CNN, see what they’re saying about how to prepare for these quakes. I honestly prepared for every other possible event but I’m not sure what we need for those, “ Troy said.

Caleb did as he asked and everyone listened carefully to what little information they could get. It was very basic; take cover and hold on. If shaking ground was the only danger, they would be lucky.

Troy knew the house would need some serious reinforcements if they really meant to live there again. The world seemed to be on a bit of an upswing but it was by no stretch of the imagination back to business as usual. No electricity, no running water, food production stalled by a lack of sunlight and a lack of means to transport what was still available. It felt overwhelming to Troy. It felt like starting over.

Spending a full night in the bunker was out of the question. The acrid tang of smoke was only tolerable for a short period of time and the group had reached this limit while watching experts discuss earthquakes, floods, and the potential for artificial sunlight. As it was, everyone left the living room coughing and sneezing to clear their lungs.

In the waning light, every one of the group took an armload of essentials back to the house. Silhouetted as they were in the twilight and moving so slowly from the shock of the day’s events, their party resembled a parade of ghosts. Black ghosts laden with artifacts of a previous life: pillows, clothing, jugs of water and cartons of food.

After all of the other essentials were transferred to the house, Troy and Brandon trekked around the corner of the bunker and together they righted the generator and hefted it up between them. Back at the house, they placed it in the center of the living room for safe-keeping.

By unspoken agreement, the adults took up a rotating watch schedule until the house could be intruder-proofed. Troy had some vague idea of how to do it but knew it would require a supply run. He couldn’t think too much about it yet with the terror from the most recent expedition still so fresh.

Caleb volunteered for the first shift and after splashing his face with cool water from a plastic jug over the sink, he settled into a chair situated in the front window. He left the curtains drawn. The complete darkness of the street outside made him nervous. Sight was impossible past the boundary of the porch anyway, and even that was murky.

The world outside the house looked as dark as the ocean bottom and as endless. Anything or anyone could be skulking about. Caleb picked out faint movements of the shrubs that had survived the acid rain, though mostly they were nothing more than a mass of knobby branches that clicked against one another in the wind.

The children separated to their own bedrooms for the first time in months, though this arrangement was short-lived. As Troy sat on the couch with Mary, who could not yet fall asleep, he heard Brandon and Cordelia speaking softly to each other in the darkness upstairs. Their voices carried across the carpeted hall and drifted down.

It seemed neither could fall asleep sequestered in their rooms apart. The close quarters of the bunker had fostered a new relationship for the siblings and they finally gave in and bunked together in Brandon’s room, which was outfitted with a pair of twin beds.

Hannah hesitated at the doorway as she followed Cordelia but she soon was peacefully asleep, cocooned in an old sleeping bag and nestled tightly against Cordelia’s side. Brandon gave her a glance across the room, wishing she was lying next to him. Exhaustion stole his next thought and all three children surrendered to sleep.

“It’s so quiet out there,” Troy said, pushing back the curtain of the window opposite Caleb’s seat. “I feel so… naked though, sleeping above ground. I feel like we’re all just so vulnerable right now. There’s a lot to be said for reinforced metal doors with beefy locks.”

After a long pause he nodded at Caleb and said simply, “I’m glad you’re with us.” Caleb returned the nod. His cuts and burns had healed quickly following Mary’s medical treatment. His face now showed a number of dark scabs but he was much improved from the raw-skinned fellow that had held a gun to Troy’s back.

“I’m glad too. If I could take back the way I forced myself into this situation, I would. I’m just glad you didn’t try to shoot me that first night.” Caleb gave a wry little grin and continued, “Mentally, I was next to giving up when I found your bunker. I waited outside for hours until you finally came out. I knew I had one last fight in me but that was it, man. If that had gone wrong, I didn’t know what I was going to do.” He rubbed his thigh nervously as he whispered the next words. “I would be dead.” He dropped his head and said no more.

Mary rose from the couch and walked over to Caleb. She stood in front of him and wrapped her arms around his thin shoulders. Seated as he was, Caleb’s face was level with Mary’s stomach. After glancing up at her with a trembling lip, he leaned into her embrace and buried his face unselfconsciously in her middle. His back shook with his sobs and Mary, the picture of motherly patience, stroked his head and let the tears run their course.

Troy watched them and fell in love with Mary fiercely again. He scrubbed a hand over his stubbly chin, the rasping sound swallowed up by Caleb’s shaky breaths, and stepped inside the curtain allowing it to close behind him. He rested his head against the cold glass of the windowpane and rolled his eyes upward to look at the pale, grey smudge in the sky that he supposed was the moon, though it didn’t resemble the moon he remembered. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.