A Abba's Apocalypse (27 page)

at the whiteness of his name tag. “I couldn’t eat all this sweet stuff today. Would you help me finish these cakes? Mrs. George will get mad if I don’t eat all my lunch. She’ll think I didn’t like it.” I happily oblige his request by jutting my hand out offering my acceptance to help him with his dilemma. “You see this bag of rock salt?” My eyes trace the trail his pointing finger is laying. “That stuff is actually a chemical compound of calcium and chloride.” He then points to the chalk mark on my pants that I got from leaning against the chalkboard earlier today. “That there is another compound called calcium carbonate.” I nibble my cake and marvel on everyone of his words. George was magical and full of passion. He could make anything interesting to learn. “Yep, these can be used for a lot of things. That’s how life is. They can be used to make medicine or poison. They can be used help people or hurt people. They can be used for good or bad.” I finish my cake, and then lick my little fingers clean. “It seems everything is that way Joey.” He raps his knuckles softly on the top of my head then rubs my hair messy as part of his daily ritual. “It’s all up to you what you do with it,” he reminds me.

              He looks up at the clock and tells me, “You better be on your way before your momma gets worried.” I grab my backpack loaded with books and swing it onto my shoulder. Old George helps me up from my chair. He hurries to write down on his clipboard my “word of the day.” He tells me as he writes, “You remember this. You can do just about anything, or be anything, if you work hard enough. I expect big things from you Joey.”

              I rise and turn to see the clock and realize momma’s probably waiting out front of the school by now. George shoves the folded paper in my pack and pushes me up the steps, as he tells me, “If you don’t know where you’re going in life, it don’t matter which path you chose.” I run up the “Janitor’s Room” steps then dart down the hall just in time

to hear the final school bell ringing. I wave over my shoulder

to old George, and feel his warm spirit follow me. I turn and dash up the main stairwell as I hear his words echo, “Bye Joey. You be a good boy and listen to your momma. And, learn everything you can! God bless.”

              A cold chill stirs the dust in this room waking me into another world of wonder. This world is not so pleasant. The faint yellow light permeating the room warns me to get up. I stretch while attempting to rip back the Velcro’s cover of my watch. The color of the morning light tells me the fog has lifted. My fuzzy eyes force their stare towards my bouncing watch face and determine the time is now 10:14 am. I immediately notice I don’t hear any noise. This suggests Tiffany is still asleep, and we are still safe. I take a few seconds and allow my brain to wake up, as my mind rummages through the remnants of my dream. Suddenly, I have an epiphany to what George wrote for the “word of the day.” It was this simple word with a complex meaning. I unravel the neatly folded paper and read the small word. This gem has made the biggest difference in my life. It simply reads “grace.”

              I stand and complete my stretching exercise as I remember scurrying through the front door of my home to lookup the meaning of the word. This tiny word has numerous definitions, but I figured out which one George meant for me to learn. It is the one that deals with the free gift of forgiveness that is not deserved or earned.

              I can see well enough now to find my way without the assistance of my flashlight. I manage to maneuver to Tiffany’s bedside while hearing her slightly snoring. I stand and stare at her thinking of the kind of life she’ll have. As I do, I feel a sense of guilt by not honoring George’s high standards for my life. But, maturity immediately slaps me with his true intentions. It was to encourage me to achieve. It was not to present a bar filled with impossibly high standards to hurdle over. I think about what standards I can give Tiffany, but they all just deal with the art of survival.

              I reach down and slightly tug at her, telling her it’s time

to get up. She reluctantly compels herself to assume a combination sitting while waking up position. I give her a few seconds to regain her faculties, as I finish straightening out my rucksack for the journey home. She attempts to finger comb her hair with one hand, and covers her yarn with the other. I pullout a protein bar and split it in half in the meantime. “Good morning. Eat this, and then we got to get going.”

              We make our way out the front entrance way and see the devastation the fog and the night hid just a few hours earlier. Various size craters adorn areas of the dead brown ground. I found the missing roof from the school lying shattered on the former play ground. Oddly, a section of it resembling the shape of a “swing set.” It fell exactly where I used to play. It spurs a fond childish memory as we scheme along the walkway towards the main gate of the former schoolyard. I motion Tiffany to wait while I check the street for LD. I look both ways, then down the path I’m currently charting in my mind. I don’t see any signs of life; rather I just hear the sound of that lonely bird returning to sing his distant desperate song.

              We turn right at the intersection and begin crunching our way towards the alley. The warm sunlight is drying the moist fragments, causing louder pops with each further step. We turn in the alley and attempt to make our way back to “H” by way of the alleyway system. I see a body strewn across the far end of the alley. I warn tiffany to follow close behind and to stay alert to my every command. I find a long stick as we approach the body. I plan on using it for my examining tool while also check to see if this might be a trap. I walk around the body looking for visible signs he might really be ready to jump us, but all I find is his forehead brand standing out pass his pain filled face. I slide my stick under the body and rock it up to check for attached wires. I do this at several different spots along his body and conclude he is not hooked to any improvised explosive device. I return to a position near his head and decide to poke his eyes with my

stick to find if he has any involuntary reflex reaction. I realize the eyes are the most sensitive organ in the reflex system, and it is impossible to hide the defensive movement the body must make to protect itself from my jab.

              He does no react in the slightest to my invasion. I don’t need to go any further in determining he’s definitely dead. I remember hearing Paul’s report about the possible outbreak of plagues as I proceed with the utmost caution. I motion Tiffany to stand behind me as stare at his carcass. My first thought is he just keeled over and died on the very spot. I progress in probing the body for possible signs of its demise. I first check for any external signs of intrusion or trauma. I don’t see any puncture wounds, blood, or bruising on the body. I use my stick and move its arm to find rigor mortis has not fully set in. I figure death was within the last few hours. I press down on his chest with my stick and find it is rock hard. I return my stick and use it to lift open the victim’s eye lid. The white of his eye is blood red, suggesting something was in his system to cause capillary vessels to break.

              I spot a trail of puddles, just past his remains. We move towards them and immediately notice the overwhelming acidy stench. I try and kneel to get a closer look at its contents, but the smell is just too strong. We step back and take one last look at all the evidence. My mind inputs all the observed information attempting to contrive the most likely reason it died. It seems Tiffany has been analyzing the situation along with me. I hear her whisper in my ear from her studious position just over my shoulder. Her diagnosis confirms my conclusion. He was poisoned!

              We leave the remains and hurry back on course. As we move closer to “Project H,” I sort out certain poisons that are not likely candidates, while storing those most possible on my mental list. Tiffany’s staunch stare tells me the inherent doctor in her is doing the same. I am also thinking of a possible motive for ingesting it. Was it intentional of accidental? Tiffany latches her eyes on to me, but she walks along in a

hypnotic trance, dedicating her mind to diagnosing the proper solution. I concentrate for the both of us on getting us back safely, as I guide her through the rough terrain we once called home.

              We make it to the property edge at “H.” I pan the perimeter for the enemy, while planning our way in to the building. The meteor shower and starvation seems to have eliminated most of the LD in town. The threat entering “Project Hope” is not nearly as dangerous as it use to be. I don’t take anything for granted though. I keep alert as I see Tiffany’s trance snaps back her attention towards me. I pull my knife and tilt the blade several times in my attempt to reflect the sunlight towards the roof of the building. I see the code blink twice back at me, then twice more. Tiffany asks me “What’s going on.” I reply ,“Before I left ‘H’ we decided to set up a ‘watchmen’ position. This is to help alert incoming Irreverent to any LD activity that is best observed from the roof top position. The blinking light is to communicate certain codes for if it’s safe or not. I just alerted the ‘watchman’ to check the perimeter.” It takes a minute then I receive two more blinks. I tell Tiffany “It’s safe, let’s go.” We run all the way right into the awaiting open doors.

Chapter 11: The Message

              There is a combined presence of brothers and sisters waiting to welcome us in. We are propped up with friendly embraces that give us a chance to catch our breaths. Immediately, Tiffany feels the unconditional love of her new family now engulfing her with their open arms. After I compose myself, I introduce Tiffany. “This is our new sister Tiffany,” I inform the inquiring minds. In my heart though, I will always have a secret spot that will regard her as the daughter I never had. I watch as the ladies warmly whisk her along in their procession of questions and comments; and to help attend to her needs. In the excitement Tiffany looks over her shoulder and finds me. I see her weeping and know this time it is tears of happiness. I realize these tears will purge the loneliness and fear she’s felt for so long, as the river banks of her heart overflow with this new joy and love. I signal Tiffany “its okay.” Now I know how the first day of school must feel for a father. Now she knows a mother’s love.

              Scotty and Gary heel alongside me impatiently pleading for details. I am eager to eat, cleanup, and rest. All they want is news. Pastor Paul is coming to join me, as I move towards the make shift cafeteria. “Where did you find her? Did you see any LD?” Scotty asks. I approach Dave and Randy and request a cup of coffee. Gary attempts to speed the information process by telling me to sit, while he gets me food and coffee. “I see we have a new member,” Paul cordially comments. As I sit, he continues by stating, “I guess we both have new news to share.” I swipe the approaching coffee cup out of the hurrying hands of Gary. They’re all eager to hear all my remarks, but “Ahhh” are my first words after downing a gulp. “Brown rice and gravy again,” are my next, as Gary sets my lunch plate down. Paul seems anxious to give us the latest news he heard while monitoring the radio. I ensue eating and drinking amidst Paul’s heralding huddle.

              Paul tells us amazing news. The internet that was

knocked out over the entire North America continent during the EMP blast will again be active soon. Paul found an automated message repeating over and over on several different shortwave radio bands. “Trinity” is in the process of reestablishing the internet, and will begin transmitting next week. At first, this seems wonderful, but Paul thinks something dastardly is up. The first broadcast we have to look forward to is being called, “The Message of ‘Trinity’.” The repeating advertisement gives the web address along with dates and times the message will air. “Trinity’s” intent and desire seems crystal clear. They wish to indoctrinate the world to their message of salvation; which is really damnation.

              This idea raises many questions. Do they think there are enough Irreverent with working computers on the continent to receive their message? Where do they expect them to get the electricity to power it up? Do they think we will risk detection to hear their message? They must realize some of us know these signals can be traced. Some good has come out of this. While shortwave is an entirely different animal, when it comes to cutting through the airway static, receiving internet requires higher frequency. The airwaves must now be clear enough of residual electronic distortion for them to broadcast in these higher frequencies. And, they must have found a way to restore the satellites needed to broadcast. If they can use it maybe we can too.

              Paul overheard other news worthy information. He monitored alerts about plagues breaking out in pockets seemingly everywhere on the planet. He intercepted intercontinental communications from “Trinity’s” worldwide operations. Paul explains he was able to determine there must be a new type of plague. The entire rotting dead, due to the meteor event leading to increasing starvation, is only part of the contributing plague problem. Request for new types of virus medicine suggests this sickness must be different. Evidentially, the current medication is no longer able to work.

Either the viral strain is mutating, or this plague is due to

something new all together. Both are extreme reasons to worry. But, we realize we have divine protection here.

              I finish my meal as the brothers discuss keeping this new information “under our hats.” We figure it will only excite everyone, and there is no need to know-at least for now. My main concern is how I might increase getting the “message of salvation” out to the Irreverent still out there before the plague hits here. We decide to have a secret meeting later to discuss what may lie ahead. I finish the conversation by telling the guys about how I came to find Tiffany. They are fascinated to hear about her miraculous rescue. This event helps reassure us God is on our side.