Read The Journal: Cracked Earth Online

Authors: Deborah D. Moore

Tags: #undead, #disaster, #survival guide, #prepper, #survival, #zombie, #prepper fiction, #preparedness, #outbreak, #apocalypse, #postapocalypse

The Journal: Cracked Earth (10 page)

BOOK: The Journal: Cracked Earth
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* * *

 

JOURNAL ENTRY: November 16

 

The power came back on at noon, and then it
was off again an hour later. On at two, off at five. During the on
times I actually had internet! The news is not good. Reports from
across the country from the groups and reports on TV about the
Middle East crisis, (when was there ever
not
a Middle East
crisis??) There is massive bombing going on between Hamas and
Israel and it’s escalating hourly. I sure hope no one hits the nuke
button.

A few on the groups have checked in, although
internet is spotty, exactly like the power is right now. In a
reverse situation, the bigger the city, the more likely it is to
have power and internet. The needs of the many.

I spoke briefly with my sister Pam. I have
missed our chats! We use to talk almost daily, and it’s hard to
realize it has been two weeks. She said the small town she lives in
(in Lower Michigan, which is ten times bigger than my town) has
undergone big changes. Most of the stores on the main street have
been looted and are now boarded up. The police and fire departments
remain functional, yet the firemen now just keep the fires from
spreading. The grocery store that she loved walking to every day is
now closed.

 

* * *

 

Pam was one of those I texted on The Event
Day with the code of “Alas, Babylon”. Since she doesn’t have a car,
she called her daughter, telling her that it was an emergency, and
they drove to the store where she bought extra flour, sugar, canned
goods, kitty litter, cat food, laundry soap and a couple of cases
of water. She’s not the prepper that I am, still, I’m confident
that if she can stay safe, she’ll be okay.

No word from any of my group members: Shine
in Kentucky, Dot in Tennessee, or Kris in Minnesota. Carol in
Tennessee is okay!! She is much further away from the fault line,
however, Shine is right on top of one of the branches. Carol wrote
that she felt the quake but had warning from the animals and was
able to get the gas shut off and power switches thrown just in
case. She’s a wise woman to listen with her eyes and understand
what the dogs and horses were saying with their actions. The quakes
were felt as far east as Washington, DC, and as far west as
Yellowstone, which is still a concern.

The power was back on, for several hours.
This corner of the township is on three separate “legs” with the
power company. Don, right across the road, is strangely on a
different leg than I am and he didn’t have power. I think this
surge might have replenished the batteries at the cell tower, so my
phone and internet might be good for another week. I hope so. Being
out of communication is the pits!

While the power was on, I filled the buckets
and washed clothes again, did dishes, and took a shower. It’s funny
how a hot shower makes all the difference in the world for your
attitude. Being clean, I feel civilized, which makes me think back
to that guy in the parking lot with his young child. I wonder how
they are doing.

I called Liz to check in and let her know
that we’re holding on, and to see if there could be any relief for
us, food wise, and to inform her that we’re all set for deputizing.
I talked to Ken and Karen about it after church. They were
reluctant, nevertheless, they understood the necessity. I wasn’t
surprised that Harris would jump at the chance, though only if he
could be compensated somehow. The county is in bad shape for food
like everyone else, especially since so many are gravitating to the
city to be taken care of. That meant that I couldn’t get any food
or medical supplies sent in. At least our EMS has the basics and
there hasn’t been any real emergency, at least not yet. Someone is
bound to get stupid though, it’s only a matter of time. We really
are
on our own.

I met Sheriff Lacey at the township office
and we went over to Ken and Karen’s house. Since Harris wants to be
paid, I declined to invite him. This is all gratis work that we’re
doing and if he can’t help out in time of need for his own
community, I don’t want him. We now have two official deputies. I
hope we don’t need them. At the same time, it’s a matter of having
them and not needing or needing and not having.

 

* * *

 

JOURNAL ENTRY: November 19

 

There’s rioting in Springfield, Missouri, and
I-72 going east-west and I-55 going north-south have been
completely shut down with gridlock traffic trying to escape.
There’s more upheaval in Quincy, where the new Mississippi Lake is
forming and getting bigger every day. Those not affected by the
quakes are now being flooded out. Militias are forming everywhere.
I wonder if that will happen here, too. It could be done in a
controlled manner with Ken and Karen in the lead. The two of them
might need help.

With no good news to write down I’m feeling
numb. Even before the power quit again, I turned the TV off. I
can’t listen to it anymore.

Tufts is mad at me. He went out this morning
and hasn’t come home. It’s been eight hours and I’m worried.

Dinner was going to be some fish, but now I’m
not hungry.

 

* * *

 

Tufts finally came in early this morning. I
almost wept with relief and I would have if I wasn’t mad at him for
making me worry. I know that he’s only a cat, however he’s
my
cat, and my companion. I don’t even want to think about
alternatives.

I got dressed while the coffee was perking.
The auto timer on the coffee pot is one of those things that I
really miss. I still have a bit of flavored creamer and after
that’s gone, it’s either black or back to tea. I think I’d rather
have the tea. Meanwhile, I’ll savor the coffee. I used to make perk
coffee all the time in the woods. There is nothing like the aroma
wafting through the kitchen while the coffee bubbles through the
filter, yet it does take time. Maybe I’ll try the French press
tomorrow. It’s much quicker and makes a great brew.

I went out to the shed where I keep my
long-term storage and removed a bucket of rice. While I was locking
back up, it occurred to me that I had better make this more secure,
but shoved the problem to the back of my brain for now. A
five-gallon bucket holds thirty pounds of rice. Carolyn and the
Stone Soup Kitchen should be happy with that. I put the bucket in
the hatch of my car and backed up to the barn. In the refrigerator
were those four turkeys, barely beginning to thaw. I pulled out two
of them and set them in the open hatch. A few weeks ago I had
gotten twenty pounds of red potatoes in a box of scraps for the
chickens. The chickens won’t eat potatoes unless they’re cooked
because they are too hard to peck. I hefted the box into the back
next to the turkeys. I might regret not keeping those potatoes but
I have a bushel full of my own, and more canned.

As promised, there was nobody at the church,
not even Carolyn. I left to take care of my second stop first—the
guys on Eagle Beach. Steve was still there cleaning up. The rest of
the house seemed empty. It was too quiet.

“They’ve all gone to bed already,” Steve told
me when I asked. “Green-Way was pretty upset that they weren’t
going to the mine and threatened to fire them. John’s already
asleep. I thought you weren’t due until tomorrow.”

Steve looked beyond tired. When I explained
what I brought for the guys in the house, he perked right up.

“You’re an angel! I didn’t know how to break
it to them that there wouldn’t be turkey for Thanksgiving.”

I left him one of the birds and five pounds
of potatoes with a plea that he not tell anyone where it came
from.

When I got back to the church, Carolyn had
finally made her way there and had opened the basement doors for
me. I handed her the frozen turkey and then grabbed the box of the
remaining potatoes.

“What’s this?” she asked me, eying the
box.

“Something extra for the soup.” I grinned,
putting the box on the back counter before heading back to the
car.

“And this??” she asked, her eyebrows rising
when she saw the bucket marked “Rice 30 lbs.”

“More extra,” I laughed. Helping like this
was lifting my spirits and I sure needed it. I felt almost giddy. I
felt like Santa! When she saw how much rice there was, her eyes
brimmed with tears.

“This is wonderful,” she sniffled, “and I
don’t even like rice.”

“Carolyn, I won’t be able to do much more, if
anything, but I wanted to give the Stone Soup Kitchen a good start.
You’ll have to make it last.”

 

* * *

 

JOURNAL ENTRY: November 20

 

I can’t believe the weather! Upper forties
for the lows, upper fifties for the highs and it is sunny. I took a
peaceful walk around the perimeter of my ten acres, re-marking the
trees with plastic ribbon tape, hot pink this time. Not that it
matters at all anymore. Still, it was something to do, and it was a
productive reason to be outside. Last night was the third night in
a row that I’ve slept with the window open. I get the sinking
feeling that we will pay for this good weather at some point.

I got an email from Liz, which was sent to
all township EM’s. The respite of electricity yesterday may well
have been our last for a very long time. It seems that the federal
government has required all power generating plants to divert their
resources to major cities, government offices and law enforcement
only. Small towns, suburbs outside the city limits and all rural
areas fall under “non-essential” power usage. Failure to comply
will result in severe penalties. We just became a casualty in the
needs of the many outweighing the needs of the few. This isn’t
going to go over very well with the few left in Moose Creek.
Without power, hope is gone for any sort of normalcy.

 

* * *

 

I went to see John for his morning massage.
When I was getting out of the car he came outside and stopped me
quite abruptly.

“I can’t pay you. The ATM’s aren’t working,”
he said, embarrassed and sad.

“That’s okay, John. Pay me next time.” I
pulled the table out of the back of the car, knowing the ATM’s
wouldn’t be working for a very long time.

“I don’t like owing anyone,” he said, “so
this will be the last one until the ATM’s are working again.”

That made my heart lurch. “Tell you what.
You’ve paid me well for the past year, so this one is on me.”

He smiled gratefully. “But only for a half
hour.”

“Deal,” I said smiling back. “Then maybe we
should talk.”

 

* * *

 

After the massage I put the table in the car
and we sat on the steps of the porch, out of earshot of the few
guys remaining inside. The waves from Lake Superior pounded the
rock strewn shore seventy-five feet away. The Big Lake was getting
very rough.

“How are things going here, John? I don’t see
many around.”

“Yeah, I know. Half the guys have left for
the Green-Way house in Marquette. At the mine, they heard that they
still have grid power and food there. Steve’s obviously done some
recent shopping, because we still have some food, and he’s cut down
on our portions. That’s okay, since we’re not burning as much. Did
I mention that most of us haven’t been down in the mine since that
second quake, even though we still go there?” He took a long, deep
breath and let it out while running his hands over his bald head,
pushing off his ever present knit cap. “Hey, at least we’re still
eating, right?”

“Yes, and enjoy your turkey dinner tomorrow,”
I said. I had to slide that in, but it went right over his
head.

When we lost power last week, I wondered what
would happen here, and now that I know the power won’t be back, I’m
worried. This house Green-Way rents has a propane generator, and it
won’t last forever. I’ve seen the deep freezers, they won’t last
forever either. I’m pleased that Steve took to heart what I had
suggested and did some shopping.

“Hey, maybe there’s some use for my hobby
now,” John said, grinning. “Years ago, I went to a trade school and
learned to be a gunsmith. I putter with that every time I go home
on vacation.”

He’s a gunsmith? Wow. Could
that
ever
be useful!

The wind off the lake was picking up and I
shivered. I knew that it was time for me to go. I took his hand as
I stood, pulling him up and hugging him. He held on tight, and his
body heat felt good against me. Oh, how I wanted more than a hug. I
knew it would never happen; he had already told me that he didn’t
want any emotional ties ever again. I finally stepped back.

“John, things are going to get much worse,
and when they do,
find me
,” I said and finally let go.

 

* * *

 

JOURNAL ENTRY: November 21

 

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Jason, Amanda,
Jacob, Don and Nancy will all be coming over here since I have the
wood cook stove and can cook the turkey. I also invited Bob, Kathy,
Guy and Dawn. Kathy quickly said yes, and I told her to bring the
wine. They don’t have much food but they have a lot of good wine!
Dawn is better prepared food wise and is in need of the social
interaction. I want my family and friends with me again. I need to
do something normal.

Though the weather is still mild, I can smell
moisture in the air and there’s a chill now too. No more Weather
Channel on TV. No more instant access on the internet, it’s back to
old-fashioned senses and observations to rely on now. I’ve lived
here long enough to know that snow is coming.

How quickly we’ve stepped backward.

 

* * *

 

Thanksgiving Day! I’ve decided that I’m going
to splurge. I will use up five gallons of stored gas to run the
generator and have power all day long. When my guests arrive, there
will be lights and water plus Jacob can watch all of the DVDs he
wants. I’m stuffing one of the turkeys and will heat up one of the
hams. Everybody will get to take leftovers home with them. I’ve got
a green bean casserole from my garden beans, homemade rolls, butter
from the freezer, and I even made a real pumpkin cheesecake. I’m
hoping that Bob and Kathy will remember to bring wine. If not, I
have enough. I want to make this Thanksgiving feast a memorable
one.

BOOK: The Journal: Cracked Earth
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