The Lieutenant brushed himself down and scowled at James and Pete, then realising he had been a little abrupt apologised. ‘I’m very sorry. We’ve ah, been under so much pressure. Look, all I can tell you is that we have been told there’s major structural damage to the city and wide spread flooding. It’s not only LA. Other major cities all around the world have been hit. It’s the worst natural disaster in modern history. We don’t know when, or even if you’ll be able to return. Every hotel room and accommodation house in Vegas is full up.’
‘What are we supposed to do?’ A passenger cried.
‘The army will send over food and bedding, I suggest you make yourselves comfortable here in the plane, at least you’ll have a roof over your heads. Most people have been forced to sleep in tents out in the freezing desert.’
They left Simon to deal with the babbling confused passengers, and as James and Pete escorted the Lieutenant to his jeep he asked, ‘Is there anything more you care to tell me Lieutenant? Why is it so cold?’
‘I don’t know, we’ve been bombarded by cold gale force winds for hours. The situation’s very bad sir. We don’t know if we’ve got enough food to feed everybody, supplies are dwindling fast. Survivors from all the flooded coastal cities have fled into the hills where there’s no access to the normal supply of food, so we’re dropping food and clothing. It’s draining our supplies here as fast as we can bring them in. People are angry that the army has taken over, but it was the President himself who declared Martial Law.’
‘You mean Washington’s been affected too? James asked incredulously and the Lieutenant nodded.
‘Surely it’ll be okay when the flooding recedes?’
‘That’s the worst part. We’ve been told the sea level has risen by thirty to forty feet, and it’s not gone down!’
‘What the hell happened!’ James said, running both hands desperately through his hair. ‘We all thought that Australian guy was nuts with his predictions of massive earthquakes and tsunami?’
‘Yeah well he wasn’t, as it turns out he was being conservative. I don’t have the time or the energy to discuss it now. I don’t have any answers.’ He said starting the jeep motor. ‘The Generals are keeping a tight lid on things. I suggest you go back to your passengers, you’re still responsible for them you know.’
James shivered as he glanced at his watch. ‘One am! Hell, it’s been one long day!’ He muttered to Pete. He was tired and confused, and after his conversation with the Lieutenant, worried sick. What was going to happen to them? They both stopped dead as small flecks of snow began to fall onto their shoulders.
‘I don’t believe this!’ James said turning around with his arms spread wide. ‘Bloody snow? In June, in Las Vegas?’
Pete shrugged his shoulders and they hurried back to Flight 712.
Chapter Forty-two
Mt Rockwell, June 9
Laura Forrest sat on the single bed facing the bare pale blue walls of the small room she occupied, that carried a plate on the outside of the door identifying it as cube 24 in block eight. The room was about three metres square and the floor was covered with cheap carpet. It was sparsely furnished with one small table, two chairs, a bedside table with a curious oval light protruding from the wall above it. The bed resembled something out of an old Mash episode was covered by a light grey chenille spread. There was no need for blankets, as a steady stream of warm air filtered into the room from a silver-foil tube above her head. This room was located off a short hallway that led to the front door. The other rooms, a small kitchen, bathroom and lounge area were reasonably furnished but not something Laura was accustomed to.
Other community rooms such as a large canteen and leisure centres were located on the ground floor of each block. The restaurant where General Porter had dined, and others of a similar nature were reserved for the higher ranking service personnel. It was definitely a two-class society and Laura had no doubt she was second-class. The only thing she was grateful for was that she was free to go wherever she wished since the press conference. She wished to go home, but military personnel were only permitted to travel by Veto to the Capitol. A curfew of nine o’clock was imposed and was mostly adhered to, except Laura did hear of some infractions which resulted in the perpetrators being thrown into the local jailhouse. She gritted her teeth and remembered the few days she was imprisoned there. She was a guest now and was no less angry, she may as well be living on the moon.
There was a telephone beside her bed which was for internal communications only. She picked it up and dialled cube 32 in block sixteen. Maxime jumped on the bed and nudged her softly and received long warm strokes from her mistress.
Josh Harrington’s familiar warm voice answered, but it was thick and slow.
‘How’y doing Josh?’
‘I’m okay. It’s lonely here though, nights are the worst.’
‘You want to talk about it?’
‘No… No amount of talk will bring them back. How about you?’
‘I’m fine. Bored out of my mind. This curfew’s driving me crazy. Just wanted to say hi to a friend. I didn’t feel like going down to the community room to mingle with people just as depressed as me.’
‘Well, if you’re ah, looking for scintillating conversation you won’t get it from me.’
‘I didn’t expect it. Is there anything I can do?’
‘No. Thanks Laura. I have to get through this myself. I wonder how Nick’s doing. Have you heard anything?’
‘No. I’m worried sick. The last time I saw him, I told him it would be the last time, I was breaking it off. Now I’ll probably never see him again. I hope he’s okay.’
‘Oh… Good timing Laura. I bet he didn’t take that too well.’
‘At least he doesn’t have to worry about me now, he’s free of that tie.’
‘He’ll always worry about you, that’s the kind of guy he is. He’s a survivor. He’ll be okay.’
‘Yeah, we’re all survivors, but will we ever be okay again?’
‘Goodnight Laura.’
‘Night Josh.’
Josh replaced the receiver, clutched his head and sobbed. He remained there several minutes trying to stop the flow of tears. Then he rose and paced the room thinking about the recent events. He had prepared his wife and three children for evacuation, but when the warnings came she had panicked, packed the children into their station wagon and fled from the house to find Josh. Inevitably she had become entangled in fleeing traffic and became boxed into a huge traffic jam. Josh held a high level position in the Science Department but he did not have the clout to commandeer a Veto to pluck her from the stranded panic-stricken escapees. He did not even have a photo of them, as everything they had of value in the world had been packed into the wagon. There was a distinct pain gnawing inside his chest and a hollowness inside his head that would not go away, even in his sleep it threatened to swallow his very being. Guilt tore at his soul for remaining alive, when they had probably perished without being given the chance to say goodbye. He wondered if he could live without them. What was the use of going on? He was bitter and lonely and survival seemed pointless.
On the morning of the third day Laura was visiting the operations room and had been sitting outside in an adjoining room that was usually reserved for the President. She sank down into the high-winged lounge chair and swivelled it away from the television monitor on the wall. Sitting in this position she could not be seen by anyone entering the room. She had begun to drift off to sleep when the door behind her opened and she heard two lowered voices. Something in their tone made her freeze and she strained to hear what they were saying.