Read The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3) Online

Authors: Deborah D. Moore

Tags: #prepper survivalist, #disaster, #dystopian, #end of the world, #prepper, #post apocalyptic, #weather disasters, #strong female lead, #apocalypse, #supervolcano

The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3) (28 page)

BOOK: The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3)
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“When he threatened to kill Mark, the colonel
shot him.” I shuddered with the memory of the close call. “He was a
violent, hate-filled person, and I can’t say I’m sorry he’s
dead.”

Morgan nosed his way past a closed door and
immediately started wagging his tail. He sniffed Amanda and gave
her a dog-kiss that got her laughing. Then he butted my hand,
demanding an ear scratch, while I gladly complied.

“Thank you for the tea, Art. If the women
need any baking lessons, you know how to reach me,” I said,
standing. “When you’ve harvested the deer, you can either call us
on the ham and we’ll come for them, or you can have one of your men
deliver them to the Inn. There are so many new faces in town your
guys won’t be noticed as not belonging.” I turned to leave. “Oh,
and I see this made you uncomfortable, and I apologize. We won’t
bring any other supplies until you request them.”

 

November 3

After giving Collins the one-pound block of
yeast, I thought it wise to check my own supply, only to realize I
was getting low. I know I’d been baking a great deal, however, it
still surprised me. This might be a good time to fall back on some
old practices. The yeast that was available now won’t last
forever.

I got out a large glass canister and began
working on a sourdough starter. Sourdough can be touchy, and I
learned the hard way to
not
use any metal when working with
it. So now it’s only glass bowls and wooden spoons.

A cup and a half of warm water, a tablespoon
of sugar in place of the honey I don’t have, a tablespoon of dry
yeast, and two cups of flour. I stirred it well, draped a towel
over it and set it near the cook stove to stay warm. Tomorrow I
will stir down the bubbling mixture and set it in the refrigerator
for two days to cure/sour. Then I will take half out. Into the
starter canister, I’ll add another cup of water and a cup of flour
and put it back in the refrigerator to ripen. With what I took out
I think I’ll make biscuits by adding equal amounts of water and
flour, enough for a total of two cups. This time, I’ll let the
“sponge” sit out to ripen overnight. In the morning, the mixture
gets some sugar, salt, oil, baking powder, and enough flour to work
it.

Initially, it’s a lot of work and time, but I
remember back many years ago when I made sourdough regularly I had
a starter sponge ready every morning, and it was much easier. Maybe
next time I’ll do pancakes.

Sourdough used to be the only way breads were
made generations ago. There’s a good reason to fall back on the old
ways.

 

~~~

 

“Something feels different, Allex,” Mark
commented while we took our nightly walk. “I can’t quite put my
finger on it. Maybe something in the air.”

“I feel it too,” I answered, cocking my head.
“I know what it is! It’s quiet… I don’t hear any thunder coming
from Marquette. I wonder if that means the storms have moved
out.”

“Even if it has, two weeks of relentless
pounding and non-stop lightning has done enough damage to last a
lifetime.”

CHAPTER 34

 

 

November 4

“It’s been two weeks since the town has been
infused with its new residents. I think it’s time for a town
meeting,” I said to Tom from across his desk.

“Only two weeks? It feels much longer than
that,” he replied, leaning back in the big leather chair.

“Would you believe in two days it marks one
year since the first earthquake hit the New Madrid Fault?” I got up
and walked to the windows. One year. My thoughts flooded with
memories of all the good and all the bad that’s happened. John came
to me and completed my life; the struggles with food shortages, and
then the Wheelers’ rampage which ended in my brother’s death; Eric
and Emilee making their way here, making our family whole again. We
made it through that harsh winter, sometimes I wonder how.

“Demons?” Tom asked quietly from behind me in
response to my silence.

“We all have them,” I said, remembering that
Tom had lost his wife and son in one of the flu sweeps. That’s what
we’ve been calling them, when a killer flu virus sweeps through the
population, often infecting eighty percent and killing fifty
percent.

“When should we have this town meeting?” Tom
asked.

“I think on the anniversary would be
significant. It was the day things began to fall apart, and now
we’re rebuilding. Besides, we need to let everyone know,
and
you and I need to plan the agenda.”

 

November 6

Everyone congregated in the school gymnasium
at three o’clock in the afternoon as school let out for the day. As
pre-arranged, the older children would be watching the younger ones
on the playground. A light snack had been provided for the kids
before class was dismissed to keep them from getting cranky. The
Inn kitchen was closed down so Marsha and her new staff could
attend the meeting.

I didn’t like the idea of a table and chairs
being set up on the stage for us, however it did make sense and we
would be heard easier that way too. Tom White, Mark, the colonel,
and I took our places. Soon the crowd quieted. Tom stood and faced
the group.

“On this day, the one year anniversary of the
first earthquake that changed all of our lives forever, I ask you
to please rise for the Pledge of Allegiance.” A stunned crowd rose
to face the flag.

“I pledge Allegiance, to the Flag, of the
United States of America,” Tom started, and we all joined in, hands
over our hearts.

“And to the Republic for which it stands,”
the voices from the audience grew louder and stronger.

“One nation under God, indivisible, with
liberty and justice for all.”

The people all but shouted the final
words.

Tom understood that a group of strangers
needed a rallying point, something that they all believed in to
make them united. What better way than to remind each other that no
matter what disasters befell us, no matter what hardships we faced,
we were still Americans, and indivisible.

“Welcome everyone. Welcome to your new home,”
Tom said loudly. The applause was thunderous. “I hope to keep this
meeting, and future meetings, as short as possible, while still
accomplishing what needs to be done.

“If you’re not familiar with who we are,” he
paused to look back at us in recognition, “I’ll introduce you. I’m
Tom White, the former Emergency Manager of the
former
county
of Marquette. Allexa Smeth is my reluctant assistant,” which
elicited a round of snickers. “Her husband, Dr. Mark Robbins, and
Colonel James Andrews. Most everyone knows the colonel for
organizing our flight here. He is now in charge of the security of
the town. I will let him address those issues in a few minutes.

“Our agenda today will be to see how everyone
is doing. Do you have any problems or questions that we might be
able to help with? Think about that and we’ll have a question and
answer segment toward the end. For now, I will let the doctor give
his report.”

Mark stood and faced the group. “Several days
ago I gave school physicals to forty-five students, with the help
of Dr. James Geneva. Although Dr. James is only a third year med
student, he’s the closest thing you’ve got to a doctor next to me.
Remember that. He’s smart, he’s good, and he’s learning fast. Aside
from Dr. James, my wife Allexa is my nurse and right arm. She will
be my assistant during all prenatal exams, of which we have two
expectant mothers in the town.

“As has been discussed before, the clinic and
the hospital are limited. If you’re injured somehow, we can take
care of you. If you’re pregnant, we can take care of you. If you
have a cold, I’ll give you a bottle of cough syrup and send you
home, because we
can’t
take care of you. The clinic is
walk-in, no appointment necessary. The hours will be Mondays, noon
until four, and Thursdays, noon until four. The hours will be
adjusted as needed, and should an emergency arise, contact the
colonel and he will come for me. Any questions?” When there were
none, Mark sat back down.

Jim stood next. Even without his casual
fatigues and brush haircut, he had a commanding presence. “Good
afternoon,” his voice boomed. “I will start by introducing those
under my command. Staff Sargent Frank Sanders, Sargent Rayn Jones,
Specialist Tony Ramirez, Corporal Ansell Perkins, Sargent First
Class Eric Rush, and Officers Ken and Karen Gifford. They are my
eyes and ears, my voice and my hands. I trust each of them with my
life and so should you.

“So far we have had only one altercation and
I’d like to keep it that way. Some of you met Kenny Marlow when we
all first arrived here. Mr. Marlow had some unsubstantiated issues
with Ms. Smeth and threatened her. Shortly after, he then
threatened to kill Dr. Robbins. That is unacceptable, and I removed
Mr. Marlow from our society.

“We are the only law here, people, and I mean
to keep the peace. This panel of four, plus Father Constantine,
will be your council of peers, your jury, and your judges if need
be. Any questions?” There were none. Jim sat down.

This was news to me. I had lots of questions
for Jim though I would ask them later. I stood next.

“Hi. I’m going to bring you up to date on
some of the projects that are going on in town. At some point, most
everyone has met Marsha, the new cook at the Inn. Marsha Maki and
her husband Arnie are running the kitchen, along with help from
Rick and Lisa Riley. These two couples have rooms right at the Inn
to better serve you, literally.

“There is no way this town could have fed all
of you without that semi-truck full of food, and with,” I glanced
down at my notes, “four hundred and fifty-seven of you, even all
that food won’t last long. Until we can plant gardens next spring,
there
must
be deep rationing. The Inn will provide only one
meal per day per person. With over four hundred, that will be split
into two shifts, either an eleven o’clock lunch or a four o’clock
dinner. Rick and Lisa are printing up meal cards which will be
punched each time you come in to eat. Sounds harsh, but it’s
necessary to make the food last through winter.

“They will also oversee the limited pantry
items. If you want to fix meals at home, talk to them. They are
here to work with you.

“The nuns that arrived with the last busload
have organized both the school and the supply shop. They are
gracious and I’m sure will help however they can.

“Father Constantine will be conducting
non-denominational services at the Methodist Church on Sundays at
ten o’clock. He will also be making all announcements we feel the
need to get out to you, so going to church will be a good source of
news for you. Any questions?”

One woman raised her hand. “The house I’m in
doesn’t have a washer or dryer. Is there any way to use that
laundromat?”

I jotted that down on my notepad. “I’m glad
you brought that up. I’ve already been looking into it. Although
the details haven’t been completed yet, so far what I can tell you
is that within the next few days the laundromat will be open. My
daughter-in-law, Amanda, will be running the facilities during
school hours, although it’s still undecided which days it will be
open. Once that is confirmed, it will be posted at the Inn.” I sat
down.

Tom stood once again. “The weather has been
unseasonably mild, and I’ve lived here for over twenty years and I
know it won’t last. All of you know how brutal our winter weather
can be. We don’t know how long the electricity will stay on. It
could last until next June or next week, which could mean a heating
problem. If there are any engineers with us, I ask that you put on
your thinking caps and come up with some kind of simple stove you
can manufacture here, with what we have, that will keep the houses
without wood stoves warm for the winter. And I suggest that
everyone start collecting firewood.”

Keith Kay stood up near the back. “I can help
with that. I just need gas for the splitter and the truck to
deliver the wood, plus a spot to pile it.”

“Thank you, Keith, that would solve a huge
problem,” I said from my seat, aware that Tom didn’t know who this
was. “We’ll get back to you on a central location.” I made more
notes on my pad.

“Are there any other questions?” Tom
asked.

“I don’t have a question,” a small but
confident voice came from the back of the room, “but I do have a
suggestion.”

“Anna?!” I stood, smiling in disbelief.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce Anna Meyers, the
elected supervisor of Moose Creek. Anna, would you like to join us
up here?”

“No, Allexa, I wouldn’t. None of these people
elected me, so I no longer consider myself the supervisor,” she
said, stepping into the aisle. “However, I’ve been quietly watching
the transition and rebuilding of this town and I’m more than
impressed by what has been accomplished in such a short time. So
I’m going to make a motion to these new residents that they elect
Tom White as Mayor of Moose Creek for a term of one year. At the
end of that one year, hold elections based on what has transpired
during that time.” Anna sat down, coughing. She sipped on a bottle
of water, and coughed again.

“I second that,” Keith Kay called out.

“All in favor?” I asked, smiling at a
bewildered Tom. The vote was unanimous. We have a Mayor.

 

~~~

 

As everyone filed out, I caught up to
Anna.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were back in
town, Anna? It’s really good to see you,” I said, giving her a
brief hug.

“I wanted to watch for a while. I didn’t need
housing, I just moved back into my own place. You and Tom have done
good work, Allexa. I see he finally got you to be his assistant,”
she laughed.

BOOK: The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3)
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