Timtown

Foreword

Man has a long and exciting history, but in relation to the span of time it is miniscule. The future holds all the possibilities for our species. Today we are on the verge of the greatest exploration ever undertaken by our civilization. We have left the bounds of our planet to begin the search of the stars.

Scattered among the galaxies are trillions of suns like ours. A fair percentage would likely have planets revolving about them. The miracle of Earth most certainly cannot be a single incident. To believe that we are unique is just a grand ego-trip.

Now imagine a sun like ours, born a million years before ours was. Now look at our progress in space already. In another two hundred years we will have reached all the planets in our own solar system, and in a thousand we will be headed to the stars. In a mere five thousand we will be deep into the cosmos. What will our potential for travel be, in say twenty, thirty-thousand years? Remember that sun that is a million years older than ours. What then if it has a planet just like Earth revolving around it?

A few years ago, writers used alien beings and or settings from Mars, Venus, etc., to create their fantasies. Our technology has advanced to the point where we have taken a close look at these neighbors, and the possibility of intelligent life there is diminishing. Now we realize that our ability to go beyond these close planets is possible. Just because we don’t find what we are looking for over the first hill means nothing. Once we crossed that first hill, we then knew we could cross others. It’s just a matter of searching all the hills.

It’s great to be alive in this fantastic age of accelerated learning, but our lives are too short. I wish to be around when we do travel to the stars, but it is not possible so I will have to be content to imagine such adventures.

Timtown

Introduction

In a high planetary orbit, the deep space probe makes its final calculations that will take it and its cargo away from the blue green planet.

Its cargo is a product of both the planet below and the technology that created the probe.

The time is short, in seconds the engines will start and the probe will leave the planet’s fringes and head into the vastness of space on its mission.

The mission is the cargo. The cargo is the probe’s only occupant. The occupant is a terrible mistake, he does not belong and he must go.

The probe will use a simple ion propulsion system to move it a safe distance from the inhabited planet. When it is far enough away to insure that no damage will occur to the planet’s fragile ecosystem, the warp drive will engage and within two minutes the probe will be out racing light itself. It will continue to accelerate to many times the speed of light, and will travel for many centuries before it will allow the occupant to assume control. Records of its course, speed, and departure will not be recorded in its memory banks so it will never be able to return to the planet again. Thus the planet will never have to fear the occupant again.

Chapter 1

Still a kid

The Quad-racer whistled down the dry, rock-strewn riverbed, the young rider expertly directing the machine between the many rocks and scattered bushes. The high-pitched buzz of the engine echoed off the tall, rocky hills and cliffs that dictated the path the river must follow. The machine had been a Christmas present for Tim Randell. Since then, he had been able to spend extended periods of time exploring the mountains he was now leaving behind. He never got tired of exploring the barren, rocky canyons and the hard-to-climb peaks. They held a strange attraction for him. Old Indian legends told of some ancient taboos concerning this part of the range, but over the years even the Indians had forgotten the reasons for their superstitions.

*

As the bike brought him closer to town, his mood slowly darkened. He wondered if all fifteen-year-olds hated to go home. He flashed back to the wonderful days when his family had been together and happy.

I’ll never forget the days in Wisconsin, he thought, when Mom and Dad were together, and my big brother Arty was a healthy, fun-loving guy. Arty, how proud I was of him, tall and strong in his uniform. I used to brag about him constantly. Arty was going to fly to glory, driving the enemy into submission with his screaming jet fighter, but now he’s lying in a VA hospital, kept alive by machines.

The setting sun started to touch the mountains out to the West as he raced from the desert into town. It’s going to be a great evening. Spring is making the nights warm again. He hit the first street, accelerated the Quad full out.

Tim braked the four-wheeler hard, barking the tires as he reached his driveway. He made a tight, sliding, ninety-degree turn, pulled a wheelie, and stopped inches from his garage door. Satisfied, he opened the door and parked his four-wheeler inside, but hesitated entering the house. He knew it would be no different in there than it had been for some time now. His mother would be lying on the couch in an alcoholic stupor. He walked back to the open door and stood watching the sky change colors to the West, as the sun moved farther and farther below the mountains.

He spotted a girl, a couple of blocks away, walking up the street toward him. It was his best friend, Ann. She was a couple of months younger than him, tall and gangly, with pretty green eyes and medium-length blond hair. Tim’s mom said she would be a real beauty someday. Tim waved to her and waited.

Tim liked Ann. She was the first friend he made when they moved to Mountain Cove. It was a pleasure to have her as a companion. She was someone who loved to explore like he did. Someone who was a day dreamer like he was. Someone he could always talk to, about anything, whether they agreed or not and laughter was always possible between them.

Hey, darling, Tim called, as she approached the end of his driveway.

How was the trip? Ann asked as she walked toward him.

Great. I went all the way up the East Branch and then over to Salt Valley. Part of me felt like I wanted to just keep on going.

That wouldn’t solve anything, would it? Ann said.

Hell, I don’t know. I can’t see how I can do any good here.

Come on Tim, your mother needs you. There’s no one else she can count on. You know that, Ann said as she headed into the garage.

Count on me for what? Shit, I doubt if she even knows who I am anymore. Tim started into the house opening the door to the kitchen for Ann.

Don’t be silly. It’s just really hard for her that Arty might be dying. She went through a lot for you guys.

Yeah, I know, but I wish that damn doctor would have just kept his mouth shut and—

And what? Ann exclaimed, interrupting. Oh, by the way Mrs. Randell, Arty died a while back, but I thought it would be best if I didn’t say anything to upset you.

Okay, okay, I get your point. It’s just Mom wasn’t doing too bad until he called and warned us what to expect.

I take it she isn’t any better then? Ann said as they went into the kitchen.

Look for yourself, he said and headed for his bedroom.

*

He stood looking in the mirror. He was trying to formulate the problem he was facing and sometimes looking at himself in the mirror made him think better. For a moment, he scrutinized his features. He had light brown, thick hair. His light brown eyes were okay, but he didn’t have dark, full eyelashes like Ann. He watched his nose as he rotated his head. It wasn’t too big, just sharp. His mouth was kind of thin, but he had a great smile and a strong chin. Generally, his features and that he was six feet tall and fairly muscular were all satisfactory to him. He was a guy so he didn’t have to be too particular. Anyway, that’s what Ann was always telling him. Despite how close they were, he still didn’t really trust her at times. She might be putting him on or she might not.

Did you notice the dogs barking? Ann asked, walking in.

What dogs? What’s that got to do with anything?

I don’t know, I was just wondering. My brother’s dog has been yapping all day, and my dad is getting pissed. Brillo Pad has been acting up too, prancing around, pawing the ground like crazy. I called the vet and he said not to worry. If she was sick, she wouldn’t be so hyped up, she’d be laying down.

Your horse has always been tough to handle. That’s why I gave her the name.

And she thanks you, I’m sure. What’s weird, though, is the vet has had a lot of calls today. Everyone’s animals are spooked, but he can’t think of anything that would cause it.

They’ve spent too much time around people, and they’re finally cracking, Tim said.

Oh, ha ha, and how long are you going to continue to admire yourself? I’m sick of looking at you already. I think I’ll cook something and see if your mom will eat.

Yeah, go ahead. I don’t know if it’ll do any good, but you’re welcome to try.

Tim picked up the picture of Arty he kept on his dresser. It was taken just after his brother left flight school. Arty was handsome, his features smooth and rounded, whereas Tim’s were sharper. Arty was, at the time, about the same height Tim was now, but a few pounds heavier. That was the strange part. The last time Tim had seen his big brother—before the crash—Arty towered over him. Tim was only nine and Arty was already full-grown. After that, as Tim grew, Arty was mostly flat on his back. For a while Arty was able to sit in a wheelchair, but even then his withered body needed to be strapped in and it gave him the appearance of an elf. The last four or five years, Tim could easily pick him up and carry him.

After they moved to California things got better for a while. Arty came to live with them, accepting his situation with grace and dignity. It was a full-time job for his mother, but Arty made it worth it. He was cheerful and his voice was loving and reassuring. He had learned to make the most of his situation. His useless body didn’t interfere with his brilliant mind, but eventually it started to weaken and a year ago Arty had to return to the hospital. Now he was staying alive only with mechanical assistance and that would soon end according to the doctors.

Tim decided to quit torturing himself. He put the picture down and headed for the shower. When he stepped back out of his bathroom, Ann was just returning to the bedroom.

I got her to eat a tiny bit, but that’s about it. She’s really out of it, Tim. You’ve got to do something.

What? You give me a good suggestion and I’ll hop right to it. Believe me, I will.

I don’t know, but there has to be some relatives, somebody.

Mom’s family is all dead, and I have no idea where Dad, or anybody from his side, is.

You never told me why he ran out on you guys.

I don’t remember too much. I was really young when Arty left. I know my dad was really proud of Arty, and I guess a little jealous.

Why was he jealous?

"Oh, that was something my mother used to kid him about. I guess he was a pilot and flew a bomber. It flew really slow compared to Arty’s jet. Anyway, one thing I do remember was Dad telling Mom not to worry because the U.S. Navy was so powerful that nothing would happen to Arty. She was really worried when Arty left, but my dad just kept guaranteeing her he would come back okay.

I sure remember the day the two men in uniforms came though. It was horrible. My dad wasn’t at home, and my mom wouldn’t go to the door, so I had to. They said that they had a message from Arty so I didn’t think anything was wrong. Those poor guys, they had to go into my mother’s bedroom. She was sitting in the corner, frozen stiff, crying. I didn’t know why she was so scared, but she knew something was wrong. At first I didn’t know what was happening, but the way my mother was acting, it made me get scared. When my father came home he told me Arty’s plane had been shot down and Arty was hurt really bad. My mom was screaming at him, saying it was his fault for letting Arty go in the first place. He left the house and came back a couple of times that evening, but she kept screaming at him. When I got up the next morning, he was gone. That’s the last time I ever saw him.

It sounds like your mom kind of overreacted.

I guess, but I still think he shouldn’t have just run away. We needed him more than ever and he just took off. It was too much for Mom to handle all by herself. Look what’s happened to her. My mom’s tried so hard. You know the double shock of Arty and then Dad was really tough on her in the beginning, but she took it in stride and was there for Arty and me. When Arty was living with us she was happy. You remember that?

Oh, yeah , your mom’s sweet. She’s so much stronger than mine. She’d never let my dad push her around like my mom does.

I knew she was lonely though, said Tim. I used to hear her crying at night sometimes, but she always toughed it out. It’s just since Arty had to go back that she’s been acting this way. I always figured she’d be okay, she’d snap out of it, but since the doctor told her that Arty was slipping away, I don’t think she cares anymore.

Well, tomorrow we’ll do something! stated Ann.

Yeah, tomorrow’s always a better day, isn’t it? Tim sneered.

Hey! Look, jerk , tomorrow is the day we have to do something. Otherwise, you’re going to lose her.

I still have no idea what we can do though , Tim said in anguish.

I don’t know either, but we will get some help for her.

Yeah, you’re right, but let’s get going. I don’t want to think about this anymore today, okay? Tim said.

As they were leaving the room, he glanced over to his desk. Tears came to his eyes.

Why the hell do I keep that damn thing?

What thing?

That thing, the reminder. Tim pointed at the model of the F-14 Tomcat his father built when Arty was on the carrier. So many times Tim had wanted to smash it, but it remained on his desk undamaged.

Why the hell hadn’t Arty’s F-14 been so tough? Tim asked as he turned and walked out of the room.

*

Tim and Ann had made plans to meet some friends farther down in the cove. On the two-mile trip down the hill they continually commented on the fact that all the dogs in town were barking.

When they arrived at their destination, one of their friends, Paul was struggling with his German shepherd . The dog was pulling on its leash to the point of choking itself, and no amount of action from Paul could calm it.

Paul! shouted Tim. Can’t you keep that dog quiet? He’s got all the others going nuts.

He must smell poon-tang and wants to get loose, replied Paul.

I hope he can handle it by instinct. If he needs your advice, he’ll get no sat—is—fac—tion! Tim said, mimicking The Rolling Stones.

I get no rest, man, no rest at all, Paul shot back.

You get nowhere is what I hear, giggled Ann. Man, what is with the goddamn dogs?

Got me, Tim said. Maybe the coyotes are around tonight? They like to upset the peace and tranquility every chance they get.

*

Tim and Ann crossed the street to the park to get away from the commotion that started when Paul’s dog attacked a girl’s dog.

Until tonight that shepherd was the friendliest of dogs, Tim said to Ann as they sat on one of the park tables.

I saw the Deputy today, Tim commented.

Where? It’s been a while since he’s been around, Ann replied.

Coming out of the Walls.

Ann shuddered. It figures that creepy dog would be in that creepy place.

Just because your horse won’t go in there doesn’t make it creepy.

"Hey, Brillo is still better than Mechanimal.

Mechanimal was the term she used for Tim’s Quad-racer. They’re argument was as follows: the horse didn’t break down, but the Quad-racer didn’t poop all over, gas was cheaper than hay and the machine was faster, but the horse could go more places, et cetera.

Yeah, but that horse hates me! declared Tim.

Yeah, well, you don’t complain too much when you climb on behind me because the bike can’t go any farther, Ann finally added.

But the stupid horse wouldn’t go into the Walls, countered Tim.

Stupid? My dear, she’s just smart, Ann said. That place is spooky, even the dogs don’t like it in there, except for weirdo Deputy that is.

The Walls, as Tim had named the place, was a deep canyon cut down through the lower mountains by running water. Heavy rains would soak the mountains above and as the water poured down on its way to the valley below it cut through a ridge, sculpting the Walls. They rose vertically to a hundred feet in some places. The bottom had small pools full of sand and many rock waterfalls that the moving water had shaped over hundreds of thousands of years. The canyon was dry most of the time, but during periods of rain it would fill with rushing water. It was about two miles up the riverbed from the town. It was a cool, quiet, beautiful place. Large pieces of the rock walls had split and fallen making the terrain jumbled and chaotic for its entire three hundred yard length. From the pools you had to look straight up to see the sky.

Tim would spend more time there, but the animals made such a fuss about going into the canyon it made Ann nervous. Tim had to admit that he had been slightly apprehensive once or twice. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had the feeling the rocks were listening to him.

Of course, I’m just being silly, he had told himself.

Deputy Dog was the exception of the animals. He would eagerly accompany them into the Walls. The Deputy, as Ann called him, was a stray that had been around for a few years. He was a strange dog because he didn’t bark and he didn’t beg. When Arty was living with them, the Deputy would sit out on the back patio with Arty. After Arty left, Tim would often see him around his house, but the Deputy was coaxed in only once. He sniffed around, went into each room briefly, then went back out the front door and left. Tim tried many times after that, but the dog would never enter again.

His eating habits were peculiar. Even a juicy piece of meat didn’t spark any great enthusiasm in him. He would calmly take the meat and disappear to eat it secretly. He didn’t bother with the other dogs, and they totally ignored him. Not with any distain, but as if he just didn’t exist. Also, Brillo Pad was not nervous with him around as she was with the other dogs. Tim had the feeling that he was an observer or a spy. Ann, of course, told him how silly that was.

*

Tim had gone silent and let Ann talk for a while. He couldn’t get his mind off Arty and his mom. When Ann realized he wasn’t really listening she became quiet too.

After a while, she asked him, Worried about them, aren’t you?

More like scared. It’s like when the soldiers came to our house years ago. My mother’s drinking like that because she’s scared. She knows Arty’s not going to make it so she’s going to give up too. I don’t know what to do. I can feel myself being all alone real soon, lamented Tim.

His eyes started to fill with tears, and his mind flashed back to Wisconsin. He was racing along the ice on his skates with Arty close behind.

*

Look out! I’m going to get you. I’m going to get you, shouted Arty. Tim’s small legs were pumping like crazy and completely out of control. His mom and dad were standing in a snow bank along the skating rink, and they were laughing, cheering the game on.

Faster, Tim, faster! Don’t let him catch you. Faster, his father shouted.

*

Tim returned to the present. It’s so unfair, he spoke softly.

About Arty and your mom?

Yeah, I feel so helpless. I need to do something tomorrow—you’re right about that—but what? I’m fifteen in a grown-up world. I don’t have anyone to help. Tim finished with a big sigh.

I help, don’t I? Ann sounded hurt.

Oh, of course, but you’re also just fifteen and living at your house is no picnic, I know that. I don’t think I could put up with what you do.

What the hell can I do about it? said Ann. I’m stuck just like you. You don’t have anyone. I don’t have anyone who cares. I wonder which is worse.

At Ann’s house a woman was a second-class person. Ann’s complaints or any thoughts of elevating her position were not acknowledged.

Ann always set her sights high. All her mother said when she expressed her wishes was, Honey, you’ll just frustrate yourself with those impossible dreams.

I wonder what’s out there, she said, looking up at the stars.

Whatever it is it’s too far away, and we’ll never get the chance to go there, said Tim. What brought this on?

I’m just thinking exciting thoughts. Did Arty ever talk about flying?

Oh, sure. I think that was the hardest thing for him to accept—that he couldn’t fly anymore. He told me speed is the greatest thrill, the best drug. Arty says that’s what the term rush means to him. That is what’s so unfair because now he can’t even move.

*

Tim got up and walked over on the grass and laid down, Ann following. The grass was cool and comfortable , and the breeze was sweet and refreshing. It would have been one of those perfect nights, but the dogs continued to howl and yelp. In the far reaches of the din the coyotes joined in the confusion.

Those dogs are scared shitless! exclaimed Tim.

Oh, come on, what could scare them that much?

I don’t know, I wonder if we should be scared too, he whispered.

The barking started to subside almost as if on cue. In a matter of moments the din was gone. Tim sat up and listened. There was not a sound as the insects had fallen silent too. The group of kids across the street had noticed the silence too and they in turn had quit talking.

What’s going on? Ann asked.

I don’t know, this is weird, man, Tim said as he thought he detected a far away rumbling. He lay back down on the grass putting his ear next to the ground and he thought he heard the earth sort of sigh.

Chapter 2

Earthquake

And then the earth broke! In a sudden, tremendous release of energy the solid ground that had always been the stable base of everything real or imaginary leaped into motion. One-second Ann and Tim were lying on the cool grass and the next moment they were thrown violently sideways, then thrown violently upward . They were temporarily suspended in the air and then they were slammed back to the ground. Tim was disoriented immediately. He tried to get to his feet, but as he tumbled and bounced he had no idea which way was up or which way was down. He was slammed onto his hands and knees, but when he applied pressure to his legs to gain control the ground dropped again. Unimaginable power was being released causing deafening sounds of thundering, roaring, and crashing.

Unreal! Fricken unreal! Tim realized he was shouting at the top of his lungs, but the noise was so overpowering he could barely hear himself.

He had given up trying to stand and was in a semi-state of panic and delight. He was watching the pizza parlor across the street. One moment it was below him, the next it was above. Then it collapsed in a shower of dust and sparks. The trees were being whipped back-and-forth and one was thrown completely out of the ground.

The animals had known. They had sensed this, but how, was Tim’s first cognizant thought?

The violent shaking decreased somewhat, and he was able to gain some control with the ground. Ann was lying flat on her back a few feet away. He managed to grab her and felt that she was limp. He felt for her face and turned it toward himself. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was hanging open, spittle at one corner.

You okay? Please be okay, please, Tim pleaded.

He didn’t get an answer at first, but she finally blinked and was looking at him with a questioning expression. She was confused, but okay.

Huge fireballs shooting into the night sky brought him all the way back to reality. Ruptured gas lines mating with severed electrical lines were producing huge, fiery explosions all around them. The broken power lines crackled and danced like they possessed life. The earth was still emitting growls and rumbling like it had been mortally wounded.

*

The valley where they lived rested at mostly sea level behind a coastal mountain range. It was known for its sand, swaying palms, golf courses, tennis courts, swimming pools, nightclubs, and tan people. It was surrounded by mountains some of which rose to eleven thousand feet. The mountains kept most of the rain out and the heat in. With the clear skies and warm temperatures came the people.

At the base of the mountains to the North a line of stately palm trees hardly catch a glance. They grow there because a crack in the earth allows moisture to seep up from below and nourish them. The crack is a seam between two of the giant plates that form the Earth’s crust. The plates of the crust travel on top of the liquid core of the planet, maybe a few inches a year. Most of the time, these plates slip by each other, but sometimes they catch here and there. When they catch a portion of the Earth’s crust stretches. When it has stretched too far something breaks and the result is an earthquake.

The plates below this valley had been stretched to their limits. When they broke they produced an earthquake of tremendous magnitude. It was recorded as an 8.8 on the Richter scale. The valley of fun and sun was now a graveyard.

*

Through the noise of the disaster, explosions, ominous rumblings from the tortured earth, another sound was evident. Screams and wails of anguish were coming from all directions. The human suffering had begun.

What happened? Oh my God, what’s happening? Ann shouted as the earthquake’s intensity subsided. Tim was holding her, and she was shaking badly.

A damn earthquake! Unreal, a fuckin earthquake! he shouted. Outta sight! Shit, I don’t believe it! Did you feel the power? Pizza Palace just fell apart! Man, what a trip! Tim was both elated and scared, but mostly excited now that the quake was over.

You sure it’s not a war? Oh geez, I’m scared Tim. What is happening?

It was an earthquake. I’m sure. See, it’s all over. We’re okay. It’s over.

Tim and Ann were free of injury, but when they crossed the street to the fallen pizza place the situation was far different. It was a grim scene and the first time either Tim or Ann had seen death. It was eerie because moments before everything had been normal, but in such a short time, everything had been reduced to rubble. Now there were the injured, the dying, and the dead, all of them lit by the fires burning around them.

*

Sometime after midnight, Ann and Tim started toward the top of the cove and their homes, scared of what they would find there. Ann had been strangely calm and remote since the quake, but the continual aftershocks made her freeze every time they happened. Half a block from the park, the street they had taken disappeared. The ground had split and the far side had fallen twenty feet. The split continued as far as they could see in both directions. They worked their way to the left for a hundred yards before the fissure offered a way down and across. All around them, all the structures were destroyed, many of them still burning. Many people were hurt or dead, but the two kids had no time—or will—to stop and help. What mattered most to them lay a long way ahead.

People dazed and in a panic constantly confronted them, begging and pleading for this and that, but there was nothing the kids could do. Ann kind of wanted to stop, but Tim pushed on. All about them terrified people wandered, some with meager belongings, some with nothing, not even their senses. The ultimate disaster had occurred, and all order had disappeared. Thousands of people were experiencing it together.

What would become of them ? Tim thought.

*

It took six hours to travel the distance back to the top of the cove. All along the way it had been the same: houses destroyed, the land twisted at crazy angles, fires. The worst was the suffering. The survivors were confused, and there was nowhere to turn for help. It was obvious that police, fire fighting, and medical assistance were first, inadequate, and second, stranded. Any kind of transportation was impossible. The quake made every street impassable to anything other than foot travel, and even that was difficult and dangerous. The earth was still shaking from continual aftershocks. With so many fissures in the ground the earth could swallow a person at any moment. At one point, they witnessed where part of a house had slid into one of the cracks. Three people were trying to salvage some articles from the house and had made the mistake of climbing down into the fissure. A sudden aftershock causing a collapse of dirt and rock spelled their doom. It was traumatic for Tim and Ann to watch the dirt cover them and not be able to help.

*

It was getting lighter as they finally arrived at Ann’s house. The eastern sky was turning a delicate rose color with shafts of deeper red probing up into the dark sky. Tim had never seen a sunrise like that before. He realized all the smoke and dust in the air was responsible. The rising sun was lighting up just a sliver of the horizon. Not much of the light was able to penetrate the dirty air. The mountains to the West were dark and completely hidden. The mountains to the South, where the Walls were located, were dark too, except some of the dawn had reached the Walls. Tim strained his eyes at the canyon. He could just barely see the top of its outline, a soft blue, jagged line. Tim looked quickly to the East where the Sun would be coming up.

The light is red, no pink, maybe a little on the orange side, but definitely not blue.

He rubbed his tired eyes and looked toward the Walls again. There is a soft blue light coming out of the Walls.

Yes. . .no. . . maybe? He squinted. Then he concentrated and focused his eyes as well as he could. He was sure that he could see some blue, but then again he wasn’t positive. He blinked again, but he still wasn’t sure. He stared at the canyon for a few more moments, but the red from the sunrise was capturing the mountains.

I’m probably imagining it. This has been the longest night of my life, and imagining a few things should be no surprise.

*

Ann and her family lived in a large, stone and reinforced concrete Spanish bungalow. The quake had damaged the house severely, but miraculously all her family had escaped serious injury, receiving only minor cuts and bruises. Her brothers were in the swimming pool when the quake struck. The pool was dug into a hill that fell away. It broke open, spilling the water and its contents into neighbor’s yard below.

Sammy said he had been on some good rides—Disneyland, Magic Mountain, But nothing like that! he explained wide-eyed.

Brillo Pad was safe and only had a light coat of dust to show for the ordeal. She was calmly eating flowers from the side of the neighbor’s house. Before the quake, the animals had sensed in some way the forthcoming event and had been terrified. Now that it was over, the animals were calm. The unending aftershocks did not seem to bother the horse or any of the other animals.

How did they know? Tim asked as he watched the horse.

Who? Ann asked.

The critters! Tim replied quickly. I can’t believe I was so stupid!

What are you talking about?

The animals! Come on, think! They knew the quake was coming. We had a warning, but we were too stupid to realize it. I mean, shit, think of all the people that got wrecked because they didn’t pay any attention to the animals.

Well, just because some dogs barked—

Barked? You call that just barking? Something was wrong and they knew it! I don’t know, but it just seems so incredibly stupid that we didn’t pay attention.

You already said that! Ann snapped.

Well, I think that maybe we’d better start to pay better attention, don’t you?

Oh, Tim, don’t be so dramatic. The worst is over. We’ll be okay now. Ann was trying to lessen the tension, but she had been listening to Tim. I do remember reading about animals behaving strangely before an earthquake. We had a warning, and had indeed ignored it. We have been dumb," she admitted to herself. We’ll be okay, she reminded Tim. Please?

*

It was only six blocks from Ann’s house to Tim’s, but now it seemed like miles. They had gotten to within half a block before they could see the house. The second half of the block had tilted away from where they stood, and Tim’s house had slid off its foundation, though it had moved only a few feet. It was twisted and sitting at a strange angle. Terror gripped him because the last memories of his once happy family were in that house and now the house lay damaged before him. Although the house had moved, it was mostly intact. The garage had separated from the house, but had not collapsed, and there had been no fire.

All the doors were jammed, so Tim entered through his broken bedroom window. Inside, the house was a shambles. Most of the walls had come apart and pieces of the ceiling covered everything. Tim’s mother was still lying on the couch where they had left her.

Tim rushed to her, followed closely by Ann. A few pieces of plaster had fallen on her, but she had suffered no apparent injuries.

Come on, Mom, got to get you out of this mess before it all falls down.

She moaned slightly as he picked her up, but otherwise gave no response.

Shit, she’s so drunk, she slept through the whole damn thing, he mumbled as he made his way outside with her cradled in his arms.

Ann brought the cushions from the couch along and arranged them on the front lawn for Tim to place his mother on. He wiped as much of the dust off her as he could, then returned to the house to retrieve whatever was worth saving.

*

He was inside only a couple of minutes when he heard Ann scream.

He rushed back outside.

Ann was kneeling over his mother, shaking her.

What the hell’s wrong? he shouted as he ran to them.

She’s not breathing, cried Ann. Damnit, she quit breathing.

Bullshit! She was okay a second ago, Tim cried and reached down to check her.

What the hell? Oh Christ, this can’t be!

He bent over her and put his face down to hers and put his hand on her chest. He couldn’t feel her breath, and her chest was still.

Mom! Damn it! Daaaamnit! Wake up! he pleaded.

He performed mouth-to-mouth, then pounded on her chest. He repeated his clumsy attempts to revive her repeatedly.

Ann held her wrist, trying to find a pulse. She was crying softly. Tim’s mother was like a sister to her. She had always been a confidant, a friend, and was always encouraging. Ann was sure she was dead now.

Tim continued his lifesaving attempts for a while longer, but his hope and energy ran out. He remained kneeling over her body for some time, then stood up and walked into the remains of the house.

Ann stayed, holding the dead woman’s hand. She was afraid to let go. When she did, it would seem so final. For the first time since the disaster struck, Ann had time to really cry.

Tim wandered through the rubble of his house in a daze, finally sitting on the couch where he had found his mother. Inside his head the thoughts made no sense. He would flash to this, then to that.

Arty, Mom, school, fires burning, friends, fun, sadness, death. It went on and on, until he snapped upright and said, Shit!

He took a slow look around the demolished house and the ruined belongings. Through the front window he could see Ann sitting with his dead mother.

What is to become of me? Where will I go?

He happened to glance down to the base of the couch. There among the fallen pieces of plaster, next to the ashtray and bottle of whiskey was a prescription bottle. Tim recognized it as his mother’s sleeping pills. It was empty and it had been full just the day before. Mother Nature had not been responsible for her death. Thousands had lost what one had not wanted.

*

Tim and Ann sat at the end of their block which was fifteen feet higher than it used to be. He remembered the days when he had to walk half a mile to the nearest mountains to get a good view of the city. Now, from the end of his block there it all was.

How convenient, he said.

What’s convenient? Ann asked.

Ah, I’ve just been trying to find something good out of all this.

"

?" She looked at him with a quizzical, challenging look on her face.

I don’t know if you would appreciate my conclusion.

Try me, just for the hell of it, she said with her head cocked and a scowl on her face.

Well, I used to think this town was so boring. You remember, nothing natural. All the blocks rectangular, the streets all straight, flat, all the trees planted in straight lines. You remember what I always thought. Nothing wild or beautiful like the mountains or desert. What the place needed was a little jazzing up. Tim swept his arm around. Nothing boring about it now, huh?

How can you think like that? Ann asked astonished. Aren’t you scared? Jesus, Tim, I’ve always known you were a little off the beam, but I hope you don’t consider this fun?

Got to look forward, not back.

The future looks real bright. You’re right, as usual, she said with a sneer.

At least there is a future, Tim countered quickly. You and I have been somewhat lucky, don’t you think?

Ann put her head on her knees and looked straight ahead. I guess. She looked back at Tim. Are you really looking ahead, or just can’t handle looking back?

I don’t know? I mean, I suppose I should be really affected. No, that’s not the word. Uhhmm, traumatized? Yeah, traumatized is the right one. . . but if I—

Affected? Traumatized? What are those words supposed to mean?

Oh, you know, like I should be crying or something, and um. . .I don’t know, just some kind of mourning or something like that, I guess. I mean, my ah, uh, my mother. My mother just died. Tim wrapped his arms around himself and sighed. Just a little while ago, my mother died. Tim sighed again and was silent for a few moments. I’ve known her all my life and now she’s gone. For as long as I live, she’ll never be there again.

You should cry. You’ve got every right, said Ann.

Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know.

Well, I think that you have a lot to be sad about.

Well, sad is okay, but anything more? There wouldn’t really be any purpose to it. Mom’s dead and that’s that! She was killed in an earthquake. Tim knew the empty pill bottle would forever be his secret. Maybe that was why he was able to handle her death so calmly. She had been in such misery here and now she was someplace else.

I feel so bad for you, you don’t know, said Ann.

Save your sympathy because there’s a lot of people that are going to need it more. It’s one hell of a mess, and I think the worst is still to come.

Phew, if you’re right, I hate to think about it.

*

It was late in the afternoon when Tim and Ann—with the help of her father and two brothers—had brought his mother’s body to an emergency aid station. The military had been quick to establish such places. The earthquake was centered in the valley, and damage outside was minimal. Surprisingly, the great bureaucracy of the government was beginning to handle the situation. Every possible man and machine was converging on the area.

Because of the number of the dead and for health reasons, the burial system was as follows: The family and friends were notified by loudspeaker as to the time of the removal of the deceased. The corpse was tagged with a number, and the location of the burial would be supplied later. A chaplain said a short speech for each helicopter load, about twenty bodies. As each helicopter lifted off, a group of people would salute its departure with wails and sobs. The group would then disperse and make room for the next one. The magnitude of the disaster had left people with only enough strength to mourn those close to them.

As the ship carrying his mother grew small in the sky, Tim felt a strange power flow through him. He was now a survivor, one that was left to carry on.

*

Tim made his way back to his house to collect his things. He was going with Ann and her family to live with some of their relatives. There was no hurry, though, because the authorities said it would be at least four days before they could open any roads to the point of travel.

Tim stood in his bedroom doorway, surveying the damage and trying to decide what to take. His belongings weren’t in good shape. His inexpensive stereo was worth even less now. His bedroom door had come off its hinges and had made him the proud owner of two speakers and nothing else. The guitar, which he had never mastered like he had vowed to, was sticking out from under his desk, the neck broken. It was for the best, though, because when he had decided to learn to play it, there had been numerous threats on his life.

At least now the music from the guitar would be as good as from the stereo. The dream had come true, He chuckled when he thought about it.

His golf clubs were jammed between his bed and the wall. He pulled the bed back and removed them. Half of them were broken. No loss there, he said to himself. They’ve pissed me off for the last time. Touché!

In the center of the room, Tim had hung a mobile that Ann made for him. She made it with no special pattern or objects. It’s just balanced out, she had explained. It had a mummified lizard, an unused condom, a small, empty picture frame with, My only true friend, inscribed on the bottom, and numerous other silly objects. The lowest level of the mobile had a collection of braided loops of yarn. Caught in the loops, at the proper angle to simulate flight, was his F-14 model.

That damn thing survives no matter what. For the first time since Arty was hurt, I have no urge to smash it. Too much has happened to worry about things past. Besides, Arty was just in the wrong F-14. What happened to him was no fault of this little plane. He left it where it was and turned away.

He returned to the living room and pulled the couch over to the large window and sat down. The sun had dropped behind the mountains to the West and soon it would be dark. He had been awake for more than a day, and this was the first time he had taken a breather. He laid his head back to rest awhile.

Tim was numbed by the quake. In the past few hours, he had witnessed the complete destruction of his home, of his town. Many of the people he had known were dead or missing. He had carried his mother’s body to be buried in a place not of her choosing. He had listened to a tribute to her, meant for convenience, and then had said goodbye with turbines screaming and dust flying. He was full of confusion and grief. The hectic day had taken its toll on the young man, and deep sleep captured him quickly.

Chapter 3

Tony & Cyclops

Something wet crossing his face woke Tim up. The first thing he was aware of was it had gotten dark. He felt for his light and switched it on. The wetness had come from Deputy Dog licking his face. The dog was sitting a foot from his head, looking straight at him.

Hey, buddy, glad to see you, he said softly. He didn’t want to scare the dog off. The Deputy was never one for physical contact. Man, I’m glad to see you made it boy. Glad to see you made it.

Tim looked at his watch. He had been asleep for hours, and it wouldn’t be long before the sun came up. He had promised Ann that he would come right back. She would certainly be worried by now, so he jumped up and began collecting his things. He packed an assortment of clothes in his large camping bag. He got his portable radio and all the extra batteries. Then he filled his mountain pack with as much canned and dry food as it would take. He went to his mother’s room to get the money stashed there, along with the bank books and the folder with all their records. He carefully placed the picture of his mom, Arty, and himself in his smaller pack. In the nightstand next to her bed, he ran across the pistol she kept there. Without thinking much about it, he slipped it into the small backpack. The Deputy stayed right at his side.

Out in the garage their van had been bounced around, but other than some scratches, was okay. The Quad-racer was upside down. The gas had run out, but it was also okay.

Quads spend plenty of time upside down, but you can always drive them away.

The Deputy was pawing at something in the corner, and Tim went over to see what it was. It turned out to be his pellet rifle. He was really loaded down already and didn’t see any need for it. He turned to walk away, but the Deputy grabbed his pant leg and tried to pull him back. The dog had been shadowing him constantly, and now this strange behavior?

The quake must have really shook him up, but it doesn’t make any sense. The other dogs were now acting like nothing had happened.

Tim had to pull away from the Deputy to get out of the garage. The dog was barking and growling, and going constantly back to the pellet rifle. Tim walked away from the garage, and the dog finally gave up and followed.

Tim walked into the backyard and looked toward the Walls. It was still dark, and now there was no doubt about it, someone was in the canyon. It wasn’t completely discernible, but there was a light coming from the Walls.

Maybe a campfire? But the light has a strange blue shade to it, a sort of neon quality. A neon light in that canyon doesn’t make much sense, though. Any people in the canyon now don’t make much sense either. All the food, water, medical attention, and shelter are the other way. The trip up there must have been one hell of a risky one too, with all the tremors. He shuddered when he thought about being in the Walls during the quake.

The Deputy started to growl. At first, Tim couldn’t figure out why, but then he heard voices approaching from around the house behind his.

Some of the neighbors coming back for their stuff, no doubt, just like I have.

A light was coming around the corner of the house, and Deputy was growling louder now.

Hush, damn it, said Tim.

The light moved past the house, and Tim saw two figures behind the beam, moving toward him. They closed the distance to him and suddenly he recognized them. It was a man who lived with his sister a few blocks over, and Tony, one of the town punks.

Tony was the resident bully, but a couple of months ago he picked on the wrong person. Since his drubbing, he had been quiet and less threatening, but as he spoke to Tim now, the old menacing tone was back.

Hey, Tim, old buddy, how’s your mom? Tony’s laugh was sinister. I hope the earthquake didn’t spill all her booze. It’s been tough getting to the liquor store lately.

Timmy, what’cha got there? the other man asked.

Oh man, this guy is scary. I can’t remember his name, but the neighborhood kids call him Cyclops. He came toward Tim with a large knife gleaming in his hand. Behind Cyclops, Tony came carrying a long gun. Tim’s mouth went dry. Deputy Dog was growling. The hair on the dog’s back was standing up. It would do him no good to run because the pack on his back was too heavy, and the man would be on him before he could get it off. Cyclops walked up to him and stuck the knife up into Tim’s face. The look in his eyes and the sneer on his mouth warned of danger.

Tony, the man said, half turning back, but not taking his eyes off Tim, you say this kid’s mom is a lush? I sure could use a drink. He turned back toward Tim and moved his face closer, the smell of liquor and bad breath was strong. "Now, kid, which one is your house? I think I’ll take a look. Is your old lady there? Maybe I’ll say