ends. People were walking in small groups across the land, too, setting out
on foot.
Highways and especially highway bridges were blocked
with cars that had run out of gas, abandoned where
they stood. And all the while we could hear the Earth
moaning. I don't ever think I'll forget that sound.
Big Tom nods in agreement with Mark on the sound, and Mark continues.
We heard that religious groups thought the end of the
world had come, and lots of people, even atheists,
were committing suicide, taking their whole families
with them, taking the kids out first, just like that
Jim Jones crowd.
Mark leans back, resigned, his eyes dropped to the feet of those around the
campfire, as the story gets personal.
Brian and I were overland when it hit .. We lost
control, first the compass went crazy ..
In the cockpit of the small plane the compass starts behaving erratically.
Brian grabs for their maps as guidance. Mark has one hand on the controls and
with the other is shaking open a map, a frantic look on his face. Brian's
slender hands are fluttering in now and then, trying to help open the map.
Then the sky started to dance around .. And when the
winds kicked in, we had no choice but to land and land
quick!
Mark falls silent for a minute, searching his memory for what he might have
missed.
We've been to the beach plenty, and I can recall
looking out at that broad expanse of water and
wondering once what it would be like to have it rise
up and rush at me. You know, a really big wave.
Happens, after a quake or something.
A large coastal city is in profile and at a distance so that both the water
and city have half the view. The water begins to rise on the water edge side
of the scene, then raises rapidly, a huge wave as tall as some of the sky
scrapers moving toward the city. The wave moves steadily, steadily rising as
a tide rather than as a towering wave about to crash down. This is seen
inundating the city rather than crashing at it from the side.
The last thing we heard was the radio announcer, screaming.
40
. . It’s coming . . “Oh my God, we're all going to
drown.” Then the radio suddenly went dead.
Netty has been brushing Tammy's hair as she sits numbly, her stony lack of
emotion being taken for a quiet nature. Netty puts the brush aside.
We were at the Clearwater Resort, waiting it out as
the phones had gone dead and no one knew what was
happening. I was up in my room, changing .. I heard a
woman's voice pleading .. Not my babies, please,
they're so little. Then I heard gun shots, then
silence, and slipped under the bed, quiet as a mouse.
Martha reaches across, and taking Tammy's hand, leads her away from the
unfolding story.
It was the Groggin brothers. I later realized they'd
killed the other guests for target practice when they
came up from the fishing hole. Almost everyone went
there to escape the heat, you know. I saw them when I
went to the barn to get my bay - fishing poles and
fish in hand, laying there in blood and twisted in
agony. All dead.
Vacationers were walking toward the main house, fishing poles and a string of
fish in hand. They were gesturing and talking. One of the guests jerks
backward, blood on his face and neck, splattered all over his shirt front.
The others get a frantic look on their faces, jerking their heads around to
look in the direction of the shot, trying to discern what is happening. Netty
says,
I realized they were shooting everybody!
The Groggin brothers were downstairs, getting drunk and laughing about their
exploits. Netty lies trembling under the bed, not daring to move.
They were laughing about what they'd done. Laughing.
Talking about how people looked when the bullets hit,
how they reacted, the look on their faces. Then
they'd howl and carry on. I was sick, trembling so
lay there trying not to breath, not to move, not make
any sounds that could be heard.
The Groggin brothers now considered themselves masters of the resort they were never welcomed at. They swaggered around, putting their muddy boots up on the
stuffed furniture, and raiding the bar and tossing empty bottles at lamps and
vases. No phones, no law, and the brothers can do as they please.
.. more fun than moving weed ..
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They moved room to room seeing what they could find, looking for valuables.
Netty says,
I held my breath when they came into my room, didn't
breathe, and they missed me.
Netty slipped down the stairs, cautiously, shoes in her hand and back to the
wall so she can see the main room before the Groggin brothers see her feet.
Later I slipped down the stairs when it got quiet.
They were asleep, drunk and snoring.
Netty is in the stables at the Clearwater Resort, heaving an English saddle
over the back of her big bay, a horse she has brought with her to the resort,
her favorite. She is seen stroking its ears after she slips the bit into its
mouth, talking to it.
I went to the barn and saddled my big bay. He follows
me like a baby after I pet him a bit. Quiet as a
mouse.
Netty leads her horse away from the stables, her free hand on the horses mouth
now and then, as though to quiet it. Netty leads the horse along a hedge, away
from the resort lodge.
I thought I had gotten away, had walked along the
hedge where they couldn't see me unless I mounted, and
I didn't mount to ride until beyond the trees there.
Then Netty is on her bay, cantering, while looking over her shoulder toward
the resort lodge.
But when I was riding away, I thought I saw something
move near the house. I figured I'd been seen. They
chased me, and there was no hiding as the Sun never
went down. I was the only witness to their crimes.
Netty glances around the group, and seeing all eyes on her, attentively,
continues.
I was the only living witness to their crimes, and
they weren't about to lose me. Dead women tell no
tales. But I think they were on a power trip too.
Their guns ruled, I guess. These guys are sadistic.
Once they got on top, no telling what they'd do.
Netty falls silent for a minute, putting the fear she felt away in that
compartment she never wanted to open again. Taking a deep breath, Netty
glances around the group to signal a change in the story. Netty walked her
bay along the bed of a stream, water up to her hips in places. Suddenly she
and the horse were thrown sideways, the horse’s legs up in the air and kicking
42
as it tries to right itself. She lands flat on her belly on the water, rises
up sputtering and coughing. Both unhurt.
I was lucky enough to be in Clearwater Creek when it
hit. I took a dunking, had the breath knocked out of
me when I landed, and when I came up all I saw were
kicking legs and splashing around. It was a good
thing I hadn't been riding. My bay was almost upside
down. There were hooves everywhere, but we were OK.
Netty pauses to pull the story together, piecing it together for herself at
the same time.
Apparently the Groggin brothers were drunk, loose as a
goose. Drunk drivers are always the ones to survive
the crash. That was like them.
Netty falls silent again, having reached the end of her story. Netty ends her
story with a question.
I wonder if this isn't happening all over ..
Not everyone around the campfire is silent, as Brian has begun giggling, but
this goes unnoticed by the others rapt with the stories being told. Brian
stares off into space, his face a mask, giggling softly though nothing seems
to be funny. Some of the repeated shocks to weak individuals show mental
illness setting in - Tammy, who develops symptoms of catatonic schizophrenia,
Brian, who says inappropriate things indicating he is seeing another reality
and is either hallucinating or delusional. Brian says,
.. Happening to the goats ..
Everyone stares at Brian quietly while he giggles softly to himself, looking
off into space, though nothing is funny.
_______________________________
The dim light of dawn shows Big Tom trudging back from the creek, a towel
thrown over his shoulder. He meets Red, who is sipping coffee at what serves
as the kitchen table now, both men alone as the others sleep in. Big Tom
glances up at the sky and then comments quietly to Red.
Seems like this cloud cover is never going to lift.
Red rubs the tips of his fingers together, examining them briefly.
I saw this when I was stationed in the Philippines –
some volcanoes have been burping, somewhere.
Big Tom bends over a smoldering campfire, picking up a blackened coffee pot,
and while pouring himself a mug of coffee speaks in a quiet voice.
Have you noticed what's happening to Tammy?
Red had been dreading this moment.
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I think she'll snap out of it, she just misses her
doll house. The way she holds that rag doll of hers,
you'd think it was all she had in the world.
Clearly eager to talk about what he sees happening to his little girl, Big Tom
is not going to be put off so easily.
She's never been like that, so quiet! I couldn't even
get her to talk to me yesterday, wouldn't say a word.
Damned peculiar.
Martha steps out of one of the makeshift tents, brushing hair away from her
placid sleepy face. She smiles slightly at the two men in her life as she
walks over to the fire, flipping open the coffee pot lid to inspect the
contents.
I heard you two talking about Tammy. I known she's
not right, and if we could I'd take her straight-away
to Doctor Townsend, but there's no way what with the
roads torn up.
A wailing sound floats through the air, coming from a distance but
unmistakably human. Mark bolts out of one of the tents, beating back the
blankets that act as the tent walls in his haste. He has a worried look on
his sleepy face.
Where's Brian, did you see where he went?
Red points in the direction of the wail, his face blank as though this is
nothing new. Mark heads off in haste in that direction, tucking his shirt
into this pants and stomping his feet into his boots as he goes.
That's another one who's not right. The other day I
found him talking to thin air.
_______________________________
One week later some townsfolk arrive, having walked from the nearby small
town. Several people are straggling in the dim dawn, along the winding road
that leads past the farm. One of them pulls a wagon meant to be pulled by a
pony, hauling another. The man inside is gripping both sides, bracing himself
against the jolts, his bruised body complaining at the motion. Herman, a large
man in the lead, stops and points toward the ranch house and the others look
up, lifting their gaze from the road and then looking in that direction. They
move forward with more pep now, taking hope now that they have found other
survivors.
Big Tom has been watching this procession from where he is sitting at the
table with Martha and Red, his hands wrapped around a coffee mug.
We've got more visitors.
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Red jerks his head around, and then rises to go off to get his rifle. Big Tom
puts his mug down and heads in the direction of the arriving travelers,
apparently deciding that by their appearance they are anything but a threat.
Big Tom walks with a firm step past the wreck of the Ranch House and out along
the entry road. He is approaching with his hand outstretched, recognizing the
lead man. The group closes up around Big Tom, everyone is attempting to talk
at once. Clara, a thin graying woman, has rushed up to Big Tom. She describes
fire from dropping firestorms that consumed one group, the charred bodies
found.
They were all burned, as though there was no escape,
as though the fire dropped on them from the sky!
Her husband, Len, a thin bent man, joins in.
Don't know where else, as the house was fine, and that
ain't the weirdest thing we seen neither!
Clara glances at her husband.
You talking about that man pelted to death?
Len, not accustomed to be displaced as the story teller, jumps back in.
Hailstones had killed another which they found along a road, having left his
abandoned car. This man's car had shattered windows and a pock marked car.
It was like he was stoned to death, those little
stones all over the road, and his car looked even
worse.
Clara is too excited to stay silent.
Poor man, looks like he tried to run from it when the
windows shattered, and there was just no escape.
Big Tom asks,
These town folks?
Len and Clara glance at each other, but then Clara drops her gaze, looking
down at the road with tears welling up in her eyes, temporarily overcome. Len
is pointing toward the broken farm house.
Didn't fare any better then you, and those that
survived went off just like ourselves, looking for
help.
Clara adds more detail, finding her voice again. In the town some who were
standing on a broad veranda porch at the time were thrown and dashed where
they fell, broken and bloody with no chance of surviving the experience.
Miz Farmington got throwed clear across the creek, up
against the flood wall, looked like one a them
tomatoes the boys throw on Saturday nights, all red
and smashed.
Big Tom hasn't registered any surprise at any of this.
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Where are you headed?
No one answers, but after a moment of silence, Herman does.
Anywhere it’s not like this.
Big Tom nods in understanding, and invites them back to the camp.
We're not much better off, but we have some coffee and
fried potatoes we can share.
Then Big Tom gestures toward the camp and turns to walk back the
re himself.
Come on back.
46
-Friend and Foe-
In the wooded foothills fringing the valley, quiet preparations have taken
place. In the swirling mist rising from the ground after a recent shower,
construction is going on. A large silver dome is being erected, cranes
lifting a section as orders are barked. The military, it seems, were not
taken by surprise. They prepared for this day with construction supplies, and
have quickly completed the construction of a dome with military hands assigned
to the duty. The dome design is one fashioned after the remnants of sites on
the Moon and Mars, scientifically studied to withstand high winds,
earthquakes, and large enough to enclose their own atmosphere with comfort to
the inhabitants. It is also a design coerced from a contactee, a type the
Zetas inhabit. However, to their surprise and as we later learn, a second dome
has been constructed in the locale, one not inhabited strictly by humans, much
less the military.
General Flood, a vein in his bull neck throbbing, is impatient.
I want this done yesterday! We can expect stragglers
to start arriving, and I'll be damned if they'll find
us out in the open!
His non-commissioned companion, Sergeant Hammond, is hurrying to catch up to
the general. Shorter and slight of build, he looks up at the general, his
voice full of worry.
Sir, I still haven't been able to get through to my
wife and kids. None of us have.
General Flood snaps back.
I told you that'd have to wait! We've got bigger
worries than that right now.
As General Flood and Sergeant Hammond continue walking toward the construction
site, another couple steps out from the tree bank. Jonah is wearing jeans and
a white shirt worn thin by many washings, his dusty boots and ruffled hair