Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) (16 page)

BOOK: Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1)
8.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Fort Walton Beach, Florida, Air Force Base

Captain Mike Coleman was sitting in a metal
folding chair on the flight line sipping a coke when the wind started. He
watched casually, and then with growing concern as the clouds thickened above
and grew dark. The color was wrong. Almost that sickly yellow-gray color that
happened with tornadoes. He had been waiting for his co-pilot to show up so
they could begin the pre-flight check on the C-130 before taking off. That
snot-nosed young kid, too young to be his co-pilot, and he'd told the commander
that just the other day, was always late. Captain Mike Coleman was career Air
Force and had no patience with the young upstarts with college degrees sitting
in his right-hand seat lately. Coleman was a gruff bear of a man, salt and
pepper hair neatly trimmed to exact regulation standards, ruddy complexion, and
large, broad hands that could caress the controls of any aircraft with more
finesse than any other pilot on the base.

The chair clattered as Coleman stood abruptly
and strode briskly over to the hangar opening to peer up into the sky. It didn't
make sense. He had checked the weather not fifteen minutes ago, and it was
clear for miles. What the hell was going on?

"Captain Mike! Captain!" yelled a young
lieutenant bursting through the door at the back of the hangar.

"Hey, slow down there, boy," Coleman said as the
young man dashed up to him.

"Captain Mike, it's not possible, sir, it's
really not, but here it is," the lieutenant said breathlessly as he thrust a
piece of paper at the Captain. "One minute it was clear and the next the radar
has gone crazy, plumb crazy, sir! It looks like a hurricane--but it can't be, 'cause
there wasn't even a tropical depression! Nothing and then bam, a hurricane. And
it's big, Captain, real big, sir. Sir, my CO is over at base ops and I don't
know what I'm supposed to do about this."

"Well, son, I don't think there is much you can
do to stop a hurricane," Coleman said slowly as he re-read the radar report. A
loud crash rang out through the hangar and the lieutenant jumped, startled.

"What the hell..." Coleman began and then
stopped as he turned to see trees flying by the hangar doors. Turning back to
the corporal, he barked orders. "Get back up there to your weather station and
get me more info, pronto. And call Base Ops and fill them in, if they haven't
figured it out yet. Find out if there are any other pilots around, we gotta try
and move these planes--should have done it already if we had known this was
coming--maybe we can tie them down in time--send anyone available out here. Now
move!" he shouted. The lieutenant went running as Captain Coleman marched out
to his planes.

Melissa Hargrove was sitting in her brand new,
cherry-red Camaro, an early high school graduation present from Daddy, staring
angrily out the window at the rain pelting the beach stretched out before her.
She had cut classes as soon as she had heard the weather report on the way to
school. Sunny all day, a perfect time to get started on her tan. It wouldn't be
long until senior prom and Melissa planned to wear an absolutely devastating
backless gold satin evening gown, and a perfect tan was mandatory. She had
thought this was just one of those passing spring showers that hit every day
this time of year and ended within twenty minutes before revealing bright
sunshine once again. However, this rain showed no signs of letting up, and in
fact, now that she looked, the waves were really kicking up out there. Damn
those weather guys anyway, always wrong! Her car shook as a gust of wind
buffeted it. Melissa muttered swear words under her breath as she dug through
her straw beach bag for the car keys. What, she thought, would Mother say if
she could hear the words Melissa knew? Looking up as she inserted the keys into
the ignition with a grin, her hand froze in shock as she saw the gigantic wave
approaching her car.

Odetta Parker was listening to her favorite
afternoon soap opera as she sorted clothes to go to the Laundromat. Living in
military base housing cut their expenses, but still they didn't have enough
saved up to buy the washing machine and dryer she wanted. Five kids and a
husband made going to the Laundromat every week a major undertaking. She hated
standing in front of the machines with piles of clothes on the dirty
floor--those kids got dirty enough without adding Laundromat floor dirt to the
mix, thank you very much. She loved this soap because it was one of the first
to include African Americans with a real storyline, not just some caricature.
Although, she had to admit that even if the storyline was better than most, it
wasn't all that real. She certainly didn't have many friends who wore diamond
necklaces to work!

A high-pitched beeping sound from the TV let her
know the soap was about to be interrupted for an emergency announcement.
Irritated, after all, lately it seemed like they interrupted her favorite
programs for the stupidest things, Odetta took the opportunity to get more
coffee from the kitchen. As she returned, she heard, "I repeat, a major
hurricane is fast approaching the Gulf Coast. There was no prior indication of
this storm. Citizens are warned to take shelter. Do not leave your homes. If
you need to be evacuated, the police will notify your area. The eye of the
storm appears to be heading for the Fort Walton-Pensacola area. Winds appear to
be in the Category Five range, but no details have been confirmed--" Then the
TV went black as the lights went out.

Somewhere in Los Angeles

Maria finished listening to her messages and put
away the satellite phone. "Hey, Zack!" she called and then started coughing.
Pulling her bandanna kerchief back up over her mouth, she trudged across the
rubble of a parking garage in what used to be a Los Angeles suburb. The hazy
air was worse than the smog that used to blanket the city. It was like a
perpetual fog, made up of smoke particles and dust, and it clogged the lungs
and hampered talking. Seven days had passed since the earthquake, and nobody
understood why the air would not clear. The wind seemed to have vanished and
the smog remained, a haze also filled with the smell of death. Maria longed for
a steaming hot shower, but wondered if even that would remove the stench from
her body.

Coming back to Los Angeles was the network's
idea. After covering the bizarre ice incident in Las Vegas, the vicious
Louisville tornadoes and the Allenville flood, Maria and Zack were back in
L.A.--although Maria thought it was a bit ambitious for anyone to call it that
anymore. There was no city left. Several more temblors had rolled through the
wreckage days after the initial earthquake. They were the magnitude that would
usually have made the news immediately, but after the monster quake, seemed
small by comparison. Buildings that had survived the first earthquake were
brought down by the later ones. More fires had raged out of control. A chemical
spill on the northern side of the city had wiped out a large number of that region's
population.

Phoebe had just told her of another
problem--China. The great Yangtze River was flooding beyond its banks in a
massive way. A storm system seemed parked over the region and continued to dump
copious amounts of rain on the already saturated land, compounding the
flooding. Maria remembered the flooding in China that occurred in 1996 when
millions died. The Chinese normally did not let the West know right away what
was going on, so Maria decided it must be bad if they were letting the news
out.

Weather was beginning to act freaky everywhere,
it seemed. Of course, people have been saying that for a long time, Maria
thought, but I think it's getting worse. Thinking about the devastation wrought
by the tornadoes in Kentucky, she focused her eyes on the ground to find
footing and almost walked into Zack.

He reached out an arm for her to get her balance
and then motioned to the makeshift shelter they had set up earlier in the day.
It was in a corner of the remains of the garage, draped with tenting to keep
out the bad air. Once inside, they both took off the kerchiefs covering their
mouths and reached for the water bottle.

After several mouthfuls of the cool liquid, Zack
said, "I don't know how much longer we can stay here, Maria. We can't even open
up most of the equipment because of the dust, and I don't think either of us
needs to breathe much more of this air."

Maria nodded at him, finishing her cup of water.
"That's what I was coming to tell you. Just talked to Phoebes and she said we
need to get out of here. They want us to check out some report of lightning in
Oklahoma--" She held up a hand to forestall his questions. "Yeah, I know, we
both thought we were going back to Vegas, but the network wants us to do a
report on this. I guess it's pretty strange."

"Pretty strange?" Zack began in a disbelieving
tone. "What do they call that tomb of ice that used to be Las Vegas--normal? We
have to get back there! What's a little lightning compared to that--"

Maria interrupted his outraged tones. "It's not
just a little lightning. Evidently it's lightning without any kind of
thunderstorm. Just stabs down out of the air and it keeps hitting things--like
oil wells and refineries--so there are fires as well. I guess a bunch of people
were killed...."

Zack watched as her eyes unfocused and almost
filled with tears. He knew she wasn't just thinking about her parents' death,
but all the death they had seen in the past week. Coming back to Los Angeles
had been the topper. They couldn't fly in because the smoke and dust particles
would clog the helicopter machinery, so they landed on the outskirts--only to
be confronted by the sight of hundreds of people wandering dazed down the
broken asphalt of the highway. Red Cross workers told them these were the
survivors of Los Angeles, that they couldn't stay in the city, and that they'd
been leaving like this for the past couple of days. It reminded Zack of refugee
marches he had witnessed in Africa after civil wars--but this was America! How
could this be happening here?

Finally, Zack spoke. "Okay. So we need to get to
Oklahoma. When do we leave?"

Maria turned toward him and said, "Today. They'll
have something--helicopter or plane waiting for us where we came in. So we have
to pack up and get moving. You know how long it took us to get this far."

"Right--hard to get around when the roads are no
longer roads. I can be ready to leave in half an hour," he replied. "Did Phoebe
say anything else?"

Maria brushed strands of dust-covered hair back
from her face and tucked them into a pony tail. Zack thought he'd never seen
her look so tired. Maria said slowly, "Yeah, she did. Seems China and Russia
are both having some weather problems along with flooding. No pictures yet, but
I guess the satellite images make it out to be significant." She paused and
then smiled slightly before saying, "Oh, and her final piece of news was that
we now have an official psychic predicting disasters. Some woman managed to get
through to Phoebe, personally, and you know how hard it is to do that! She must
be persistent. Anyway, this woman said that there will be a hurricane hitting
the Gulf Coast. As if we didn't have enough problems! Why would anyone want us
to have a hurricane?"

Zack said, shaking his head, "That's not a
prediction--everyone knows the Gulf usually has a couple of hurricanes each
summer--but not this early in the year, I'll grant you that. Psychic, huh?"

Maria laughed. "I know, I know, but this is
different. She gave Phoebe an exact time and place! It's supposed to hit Fort
Walton Beach, Florida--right about now I guess. And then move on from there.
And, yes, I asked Phoebe, she's already checked with the weather guys this
morning and she said they laughed at her. Said there was nothing out there at all
and that they would have seen it coming for twenty-four hours at least."

Zack said, "I'm surprised Phoebe even passed
that along to you."

"I was too, She mumbled something about feeling
it was her duty to tell me. Whatever. At least we don't have to worry about a
hurricane. I think fires and floods and quakes and ice--and let's not forget
those pesky twisters!--are enough for now," Maria replied. Then she asked
cautiously, "You haven't had any, um, dreams about a hurricane have you?"

He frowned a bit and replied, "Who knows? I can't
seem to remember the damn things. I know every morning what I dreamed was
important, but...naw, no prophetic dreams for me."

Maria gave a small sigh of relief.

Highway 98 West, Heading toward Hattiesburg,
Mississippi

Lisanne struggled to open the map across the top
of the steering wheel. "You know, it would be helpful for you to have thumbs
right about now," she said to Merlin. The cat ignored her.

"Hello-o-o! Merlin!" Lisanne called loudly. "Anybody
home? Are you paying attention or sleeping over there?"

The big black cat abruptly jumped into Lisanne's
lap, crackling the paper of the map as he placed his paws on top of it.

"Watch it, buddy!" Lisanne yelled and then
stopped to notice that Merlin was peering at the map. "What are you doing?
Reading the map? Uh huh, right. Like I'm really going to listen to a cat
navigator...well, okay, I'll admit I already did. I'm heading west and north on
your say-so, but what is there to decide
now
? As long as we stay on a
northward heading we should be okay, shouldn't we, Merlin? Although why you
wanted to go West instead of straight North is beyond me! North is away from
the hurricane, and that's all we care about. That's what we--Hey!"

Lisanne gripped the wheel as Merlin used his
paws to make a right turn.

"You are absolutely bonkers! What do you think?
That you can drive a car now? Listen to me, buster, you may be able to read and
type on a computer--and even predict the weather. But you are still a
cat
!
Get it? A cat. And cats can't drive. That's it, end of story, so get your paws
off the wheel and--" Lisanne stopped talking and pressed on the brakes.

Other books

Murder.com by David Deutsch
The Alpine Quilt by Mary Daheim
Dead Eye by Mark Greaney
Seed No Evil by Kate Collins
Falter by Haven Cage
The Affair: Week 5 by Beth Kery