Russian Doomsday Page 10
Leaving the office, she walked to her car. She might as well live each day as though it were her last. She didn’t think she wanted to live in a world that had gone to hell, that was nothing but a pile of rubble and ash. What the hell. Celebrate now, for tomorrow I might be dead. To hell with Pike and his ilk, and Johnny too. Blustering know-nothings, the lot of them. Her time was too precious to waste it worrying.
Feeling infinitely better, she started her car and drove to the nearest restaurant, intending to dine well and enjoy each forkful.
Rowland, NC, 2 August 2018
Harley was riding the tractor, the lawn-mowing attachment on it. Jackson was in his lap and Jacob was behind, his small hands on Harley’s shoulders. The boys always enjoyed helping him mow the fields. He saw Christy coming across with a tray carrying a large pitcher of lemonade and some cups. He slowed down and cut the engine. Both boys abandoned ship.
Christy laughed as the boys ran to her. The dogs were running the field, looking for wayward mice. Harley got off the tractor and took off his straw hat, wiped his face with his arm. He looked around. There were clouds rolling in. It would rain tonight.
“Thought you boys could use some refreshments,” Christy laughed.
Harley came up to her and kissed her on the head. “Thanks honey, it is hot out here. The boys don’t help it much, hanging onto me like that.” He laughed and took a long drink of the lemonade. Both watched as the boys ran after the dogs, calling and laughing. He and his wife stood in silence and watched them.
“When does school start again?”
“Soon enough.” She laughed, “I’ll take them back in with me. They need to collect eggs and do another milking.”
“I expect you’ll be lonesome when they do go back to school.”
“I expect I’ll have peace and quiet.” She laughed and kissed his cheek.
“When do you want me to harvest the corn? It’s looking like it’s done.” He grinned.
“That’s for the chickens, so we’ll leave it to dry. I’ve already picked what I want and canned it,” she said, taking a sip of cool liquid.
“And the pumpkins?”
“Those will sit until late September or October. Once you finish cutting, can you bale the grass for me?”
“Sure can. You know I love playing with machinery.” He grinned. The baler was small, perfect for their needs. He’d pull it on the back of the tractor. This would be for the cows, for winter. He had to admit, Christy kept this place going, and they rarely had out of pocket expenses. They also leased the north field, which brought in revenue.
“All right, farmboy, I’m heading back in the house.” Turning, she yelled at the boys and they followed her back, the three dogs following in their wake. He smiled at his family. He’d be lonesome without them.
He grinned and watched her rear aspect. Since their talk about the world’s events, he’d started paying attention to the news and reading articles. He’d found articles about Russian weapons, North Korea blustering, China and its viruses, and on and on.
He supposed she was right. Between hurricanes and tornados that caused havoc, there were the threats from outside the country. He was glad his wife was taking steps to ensure they had full stomachs. He turned the tractor back on, and settled back to enjoy the rest of the mowing.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Maryville, MO, 17 August 2018
Margo sat beside him, looking at a magazine. He was pretending to look at a magazine. They were at the realtor’s office, waiting for word from the seller. He was so nervous. They’d been told that the seller’s agent was talking to someone else who’d looked at the property. Pike hoped it wouldn’t go into a bidding war.
“I’m going to go outside and walk around. I’m too nervous to sit still,” he murmured to Margo, and stood up. When Margo looked at him, he saw she was just as nervous.
“Okay. When they come back, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks. I’ve just got to get some of this nervous energy out.”
He walked out of the office and went outside. He’d tried not to be too fidgety, but this was so important to them.
He’d taken a part time job at a local hardware store, to tide him over until his realtor’s license came in. He enjoyed working there and had picked up a lot of tips for household projects and building things. He’d never been good with his hands and had absolutely no clue about tools, but he was learning now. He thought perhaps he’d stay on and use the job as a way to learn more. There were a couple of old-timers working there, Ned Graham and Blake Holter. They were knowledgeable and knew a lot of history with regards to building things, like how stuff was done before all the power tools and gadgets. They seemed to like that Pike was always asking their advice, and they’d taken Pike under their wings.
“Yah see, Pike,” Ned would say, “there is an art ta building and using the right tools.” The old man would rub his hands together, gearing up for a long speech.
Blake would then chime in, “You don’t need all those fancy tools. Back when I was a boy, my grandpappy used to teach me how to build furniture. We didn’t have electric saws and gadgets back then.”
“Blake’s right. It takes practice,” Ned would nod, “but I guarantee, you put in the time and effort, you’ll come out with a good product.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate you teaching me this. My dad was in the military. He didn’t really do this kind of stuff,” he’d told them.
“Well, he done enough for his country, I expect,” Ned had said, and patted Pike on his shoulder.
“We’ll start you off with some basic homecare tools. You know, hammer, wrenches, screwdrivers, and that kind of thing. Little by little, you’ll get a nice toolkit going,” Blake had assured him.
Pike had thanked both men. It was good that he was gaining experience. With this knowledge, he hoped he’d be able to repair or build anything. At least, that was the plan.
Feeling calmer, Pike stepped back into the building and looked into the office. Margo looked up and smiled at him but shook her head. He smiled and shrugged, then went back out.
A few minutes later, she came out. “You sure you’re okay, Pike?”
“Yeah, I am not used to being on the other side of the table, I guess.” He laughed.
She grinned and patted him on the back.
“I’m going to head to Lincoln tomorrow, to meet Sayer. I got a text from him this morning, it’s kindof a last-minute thing. Do you want to go? I don’t know what your work schedule is like.”
“No, thanks. I have to work all day tomorrow because I took time off for today. You’ll have to let me know what you think of him.”
It had been a kind of wonderful hell living with Margo. They were becoming closer, though he never overstepped his boundaries. If he made a move and she gave him a horrified look, he thought he would die a thousand deaths.
How could he live in close proximity to her if she rejected him? They’d always have that awkwardness between them. It wasn’t worth their friendship. He’d wait for her to make the first move if there was going to be anything more than friendship. He didn’t want to ruin what they had now. He also needed to keep focused on why he was here. Their lives depended on getting this thing right. He tried not to think too much about what was at risk.
He loved her enough to put his feelings on the backburner. He would never forgive himself if something did happen and they weren’t ready for it because he’d not been on task. That was what drove him. Kept him going in the right direction.
The door opened and Alice Reynolds, their agent stepped out. “If you want to come on back in. I’ve got the seller’s agent on the line,” she said.
Pike’s heart slammed against his ribcage. He placed his hand on Margo’s back and let her precede him. He followed the two women into Alice’s office.
“Please have a seat. I have just finished speaking with both the sellers and their realtor. The offer you made of $10,000 below asking price has been accepted. Apparently
the other interested party couldn’t make as good an offer. The property and cabin are yours.” Alice smiled.
Margo and Pike looked at each other with happy grins, whooped and hugged each other.
“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it.” Margo said.
“Wow, I’m so relieved. Thank you, Alice, really, thank you so much,” Pike said.
“No problem, guys. Now, let’s go over the paperwork. Get things signed and set up, and we’ll have you choose a closing date. How does that sound?”
“That sounds great,” Pike said, and grinned foolishly at Margo. He wanted to kiss her, but tamped down that urge.
An hour later, they were heading back to the apartment. As Pike drove, his mind was on the new cabin and what they needed to do.
“You know, I have no idea how to grow things. I’ve never planted a garden. Have you?” Margo asked.
“No, I haven’t at all. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Maybe we should get some books. Maybe we should also get some seeds. I can also ask the guys at work… they know a lot of things about almost everything,” he suggested.
“I’ve been reading that we should get the non-GMO seeds, maybe put them away. I was looking on the bidding sites and you can get them pretty cheap,” Margo said, grinning.
“That is good. Maybe we can stockpile the seeds, in case we really suck at growing things. We’ll at least have backup seeds.”
“That is a good idea. They have seeds that are in airtight packets. I think I might buy those along with the regular heirloom seeds.”
“I’ve also been thinking about the radiation, if it hits us. The ground is going to be irradiated, and I have no idea what that will do to whatever we grow. I can’t really ask Ned or Blake about it. I don’t even think they’d know. Will it kill the soil? I’m pretty sure it will contaminate it. Maybe we should get some thirty-gallon plastic containers and fill them with dirt and worms. We can get the worms from the bait shop. We can put the containers in the woods, behind the cabin. Out of sight.”
“Hey, why don’t we swing by the store and pick up some containers now? We can load those up with our stuff that we’ll move to the cabin, and then we can use them for soil later. Also, I want to check their books. If I can’t find what I want, I’ll go onto Amazon.”
“Good idea. You think maybe if we swing by the library, we could look some things up?”
“Sure, but let’s get the containers first. That way, if I can’t find the books I want, then when we go to the library. I can check some out, maybe do some research on farming or planting gardens,” she said excitedly.
He looked over and grinned at her. Her face was glowing.
Several hours later, they brought their purchases into the house. Margo had checked out two books from the library. Old books, they were about gardening and soil preparation for gardening. He’d found a book on survival medical procedures at the library as well. He’d read over that one later.
“I think I’ll order a couple books from online,” he said as he put the three large plastic containers on the kitchen counter. “This is good reading, but I’d like something here at the house for medical procedures.”
“You might want to add a book or two on DIY projects,” Margo said, and grinned at him.
He laughed. “Already going to have a honey-do list. That way, I can also see what other tools I’ll need.”
“I’m so glad they had a sale on dried beans and canned beans. I can’t believe how much we got.”
“I know. I feel like I can breathe now. And now that we have the cabin, it is like a huge weight has been taken off my shoulders. I can’t wait until we move in. Oh, did you see the extra pasta I picked up. It’s orzo pasta, and I want to try it. From what I understand, you don’t need to use a lot, but it makes quite a bit. That, I think, will help stretch our food supplies.”
His room was by now filled with boxes of dried beans and bags of rice, and boxes of pasta were stacked neatly in his closet. There wasn’t a whole lot of room for water, that took up a lot of space, but he’d gotten some and shoved it under the daybed. Margo had done the same under her bed.
“God, I know. I almost feel rubbery with relief. I was so afraid those other people might take it from us. Geez, we need to move for sure. Where are we going to put all of this?” she laughed.
“In my room, I guess. It’s starting to resemble a supermarket in there. But I won’t complain. We are building our supplies.”
“I’m glad you got the case of MREs. If we need it bad enough, at least we’ll have the high calories. But also high blood pressure,” she said.
He laughed. “We can eat those only in extreme emergencies. How about that?”
“Yeah, sounds good. Let’s get this stuff sorted and I’ll make some dinner.”
They were making long term plans and moving forward, not stagnating. There was nothing else for them to do but keep doing everything they could to prepare for whatever came their way. Each day forward without a disaster was a good day.
Once he met with Sayer, he’d figure out more things to do to move them forward. He planned on picking Sayer’s brain. He’d been reading about smoking meat the old-fashioned way. He’d have to study up on that, as they could easily be poisoned if he messed that up. There would be no doctors if everything went to hell.
“Hey, did you get the box of medical supplies? I ordered liquid stitches, and also a staple gun that is used to put stitches in. I also got quick clot, in case there’s a big accident,” he asked from the bedroom.
“Not yet. Maybe tomorrow,” she called back.
“Hey, do you have enough of your girly girl products? You know, feminine products?” he asked. He felt his face suffuse with heat, and was glad he was in his room. He jerked when she popped her head around the corner, a huge grin on her face.
“Yes, and thank you for thinking about me, Pike.” She giggled, her own cheeks pink.
“Just trying to think ahead,” he mumbled, and turned away from her, digging in some boxes to disguise his embarrassment. He heard her laughing as she went back to the kitchen. Once there, she banged the pots and pans around, and he let out a sigh.
He’d also ordered a tourniquet and an old-fashioned thermometer. He’d picked up sterile gloves, sterile gauze, and pads. Each day brought new thoughts to add to the ever-growing list of things they needed.
But they had the cabin. It was theirs. He sat on the bed for a moment and closed his eyes. Breathe.
Moscow, Russia, 17 August 2018
Dina lay in bed, watching Alexei buttoning his shirt. She smiled lazily at him. He was a fast lover, all business except when he had a little vodka in him. Then, he lingered. They’d been intimate for nearly two weeks now, and he came to her apartment every few days.
He was married, so he kept it discrete. She wasn’t pushing him to talk, but she was confident his need to brag would bring him around to spilling secrets. Men always did that. She simply had to rub his ego, fuss and gasp over his accomplishments. It was easily done. She walked the fine line of not too much. He’d smell bullshit on that. Subtle.
He’d had a little vodka earlier, and had whispered about projects and his connections to Orlov. She’d acted suitably impressed, hanging on his every word.
She smiled up adoringly at him and shook her head. “You are a very powerful man. I know that people at work hold you in very high esteem. I’ve seen the photographs of your ships. They are magnificent.” She smiled to herself when he stopped buttoning his shirt to look down at her. He smiled, his chest swelling, and began to unbutton his shirt once again.
She grinned, and moved the sheet invitingly, then giggled girlishly and scooted over, raising a hand to draw him in. All she needed was time. She’d get the info she needed, little by little, like a spider weaving a sticky web. She’d pull this little fly into it and get what she needed to complete her mission.
As he drew near, she wrapped her long legs around him and began to kiss and touch him. He liked it when she
played the aggressor, though not always. She watched his body language carefully, and tonight he was willing. Perhaps he would expand on the projects.
She covered his face with little kisses. She knew how to move him, and she especially knew what got him going, made him forget himself. She was very skilled, and set about working her magic.
Topeka, KS, 18 August 2018
Robert Brooks nervously shuffled the papers in from of him. His congregation were slowly gathering and taking their seats. He’d called them together for a special meeting. He could feel the sweat trickle down his back. He’d had a dream the previous week and it had been so vivid, it had frightened him badly.
He’d been visited by an angel, who told him that their world would end soon. The angel told him to prepare, that there would be famine, disease, and hellfire coming. The sky would go dark for a time, life would be extinguished in fire and wind. Prepare the angel had told him. Prepare or run for your life. He’d woken up screaming when he saw explosions that melted the skin from people’s faces, their screams echoing in his own screams.
His heart had beaten so hard, he thought he’d been having a heart attack. He’d wept for over an hour, thinking about the dream. It had not left him. It was still clear to him. He felt it his duty to tell his congregation. He drew out a handkerchief and dabbed at his upper lip and temples. He’d never been this nervous before.
Clearing his throat, he looked out as the people under his care began to quiet down and look at him. He smiled down at them, his lips trembling. He had an urge to laugh hysterically and cry at the same time. He tried to get a grip.
He cleared his throat again.
“Good evening. Thank you for coming, for giving up your Saturday evening. I would not call you here normally, but something special and important has occurred.” He smiled nervously down at the people gathered. He tried to focus on one person, but he couldn’t seem to. He could feel the muscles in his eyes twitch, and he hoped it wasn’t noticeable.