Winds of Ares: An Apocalypse Thriller Read online

  WINDS OF ARES

  An Apocalypse Thriller

  Jacqueline Druga

  Copyright © 2021 Jacqueline Druga

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Winds of ARES

  ONE – RUNNING

  The sky will be pink at an odd time of day…

  Bright pink like a little girl’s hair ribbon.

  Just above the horizon with spirals of smoke like trails.

  All shades of pink.

  Beautiful, foreboding.

  The sign that it is time

  The beginning of the end.

  Written eloquently, it sounded like a poem rather than a final warning. It was eerie to me, ringing in words I knew would be the truth. My husband called it overly dramatic and just plain ridiculous.

  I understood. It was easier to believe none of it was true. None of the warnings or information. But I was stuck in the mindset of wondering if disbelief was worth the risk.

  There was so much information to process. Granted, I had been listening and reading it for a long time. It was still a lot to take in and write down. I had to copy it all by hand or print it, because eventually there would be no internet and no way to access the social media group where all the information was stored.

  The group started out small, I was one of nine in the beginning, and it grew to three hundred and twelve. Not a ton of people, and not nearly enough to spread the word.

  My husband, Lane, didn’t really think much about it at first, then as time passed and the date grew nearer, he would joke with me. He would send me links to stories about people who sold everything on the predicted apocalypse word of a preacher.

  I wasn’t getting my information from a preacher; I was getting it from a scientist.

  I was ready, more than ready. At least I believed I was, and sadly, the impending end of the world coincided with the end of my marriage. There really wasn’t time to file for a divorce. It would be useless anyhow.

  So, I left. I finished getting everything ready and left for the safe haven nicknamed Olympus. A placed deemed the only survivable location on the North American continent.

  Yeah, I knew it sounded nuts. I even questioned my sanity when I thought about saying it out loud, “Hey all. I’ve packed all this stuff because the world is going to end.”

  I stayed quiet. Even though there still was plenty of time to get there, I wasn’t waiting around in my broken home.

  There was somewhere we needed to stop anyhow. Without Lane, we had an extra spot at Olympus, and I knew exactly who I wanted to bring along.

  It would take some convincing, but I was sure he would come.

  Under the guise of a long overdue vacation, we packed up, left at sunrise and drove the three hundred miles from Albuquerque to Amarillo.

  By ‘we’, I meant me and the kids.

  They weren’t mine biologically, but they were mine in every other sense of the word.

  My niece and nephew, Carlie and Reese were twelve and ten years old.

  When Reese was just about two, my brother-in-law was driving back with him on a simple trip to the store. He had taken pain medication for his back and had a freak bad reaction. He passed out behind the wheel and crashed. It killed him instantly and broke both of Reese’s legs. His bones were still soft and forming, that helped, but his left leg was never the same and he walked with a limp.

  Reese was a great kid, so smart, yet naïve.

  Carlie was such a protector, snarky at times, but I guessed it was her age.

  My sister, Elise, was a young widow and did so well with them or so I thought. She was what I would call a modern day hippy. She smoked a lot of weed, worked as a horticulturist, but always took care of her kids.

  They were happy, well adjusted, clean and fed.

  Never did I question her. Perhaps I should have.

  When Carly was six and Reese was four, my sister dropped them off at my house so she could go work on a special project.

  She never returned.

  Two years after her husband’s death, I thought her life was together.

  No calls were answered, no texts went through. All attempts to reach her were futile.

  We filed a missing person’s report with the police and nothing was found.

  It took for Martin, the kids’ paternal grandfather, to hire a private investigator.

  Elise was alive and well. She didn’t want to have contact and was living in Wyoming in some sort of cult with a guy she had met.

  The police said I was lucky. Too often mothers who find a new man, and no longer want their old lives, get rid of their children in a permanent way.

  Instead, she left them with me, to raise as my own.

  I never told the kids what their mother had done. I loved my sister and the kids too much. I didn’t want them hurt or have any scars, so I bent the truth a little. I gave them a story and reason they accepted.

  My explanation was good enough for them and me.

  When my sister returned, not if, she could tell them the truth.

  Of course, that was my thinking before things started to get intense. Now, I wondered if I would ever see my sister again.

  With as much love as I had in my heart for her, I loved the kids and I needed to get them to safety.

  The RV was old. It was built like a tank. Carlie commented how she thought we were taking a ride back in time rather than Texas.

  The camper was paneled inside with wooden cabinets and floral patterned upholstery.

  It was clean and cute in a nostalgic way.

  I purchased it used, of course. I believed it would get me to Olympus and that was all I needed.

  Unfortunately, it petered out four miles west of Martin’s ranch and two blocks from Skip’s Automotive.

  It was a blown hose. Skip told me it would be ready the next day then ‘she’d’ be good as new. Referring to my RV as a woman.

  I wasn’t thrilled about the cost, but I had that amount remaining on my credit card. In less than a week, money would be useless, I was sure of that.

  There was some concern about leaving my packed RV in Skip’s care. Granted everything was locked tight in the back room, but it was everything we needed and our extra contribution to Olympus.

  We each grabbed our bags we had ready for our time at Martin’s and waited on the street corner for our ride.

  “What is that?” Reese pointed to the broken phone booth.

  The glass walls of it were cracked and dirty and there wasn’t any phone.

  “It’s a phone booth.”

  “A what?” he asked.

  “Years ago, before cell phones they were they only way to call someone when you weren’t home,” I replied. “Like if this was before cell phones, I would use that to call Martin.”

  Carlie immediately walked to it. “There’s nothing in here.”

  “At one time there was a pay phone,” I said.

  “Aren’t all phones pay phones?” Carlie asked.

  “Yes, but instead of monthly, you’d put a coin in there and you could make a short phone call.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea,” Carlie backed up. “No cell phones, this kind of makes you pay for something you need. Bet they made a fortune”

  “Yep.” I nodded. “That was the concept for pay bathrooms and f
eminine protection dispenser boxes, too.”

  She looked at me with a ‘huh’ expression, then Martin pulled up. Thankfully, the pay toilets and feminine protection dispenser questions would be put on hold.

  Martin stopped his huge pickup truck, causing a little dust to fly up behind his rear wheels. He stepped out of the truck with wide open arms and waited for the barrage of hugs from his two grandchildren who yelled out, “Pap!” when they saw him, dropping their bags and running his way.

  I like Martin a lot. He was a good guy. He wasn’t a daily, ‘hands on’ grandfather, but he did what he could with the distance between him and the kids.

  He ran his ranch, and it took up a lot of his time. He had weekly video calls with the kids, never missed a birthday, came to visit us twice a year not including Christmas and he took the kids for two weeks every summer.

  Martin had that typical rancher look about him. All in denim except he wore a baseball cap. He was a tall man and fit for his age. I never ventured to guess what his age was. If he was old enough to be my brother-in-law’s father, he was old enough to be mine.

  He lost his wife years before I had met him and had already gotten back into dating. In fact, I don’t recall ever seeing him with the same woman twice.

  I didn’t see Martin as someone hard to handle and women leaving him. I figured he probably just got bored and dumped them.

  He didn’t get bored with his grandkids though. I watched him focus only on them, hugging them both tight and with love.

  “You guys get bigger every time I see you,” Martin told them. “I got a new horse yesterday. A wild one. I’ll be breaking him all week. It’ll be fun for you.” He opened up the back truck door. “Get in.”

  He walked over grabbing their bags. “Hey there Jana, you’re looking good.” He kissed me on the cheek. “No Lane?”

  “No Lane.”

  He took my bag and tossed it in the back with the kids’ stuff and I walked to the passenger seat and got inside.

  It smelled like cigarettes and old coffee in the truck, but it was tidy.

  “Alright,” Martin announced as he slid in and shut the door. “We’re off. Who’s hungry?”

  Both kids called out, “I am!”

  “Excellent, I already have Rosie on the late breakfast.”

  Rosie was his housekeeper and had been forever. She often brought her own grandkids to work with her when mine were there.

  Martin pulled out and on to the road. “Other than breaking down, how was the drive?” he asked.

  “It was good,” I replied.

  “I’m surprised. Usually, you don’t hear about Subaru’s breaking down on a three hundred mile drive.”

  “It wasn’t the Subaru.”

  Carlie spoke up. “We rode in the RV?”

  “RV?” asked Martin in shock. “When did you get an RV?”

  “Last week.”

  “Don’t be too impressed,” Carlie said. “It’s old.”

  “How old?” Martin asked.

  “Not that old,” I responded.

  “Now, why in the world did you need an RV to drive here?”

  Not wanting to get into it right there and then, I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wanted to.”

  “Well, when Lane gets out here make sure he follows you back.”

  “Lane’s not coming.”

  “Does he have a show?” Martin asked.

  Reese answered. “She left him.”

  “Left him?” Martin glanced at me. “What does ‘you left him’ mean?’

  “I left him and can we not talk about this in front of the kids?”

  “If they know you left him, they know something is up. How is Lane doing with all this break up stuff?”

  Before I could answer, Carlie did.

  “He doesn’t know,” Carlie said.

  “What? Your husband doesn’t know you left?”

  “Martin could we … could we just wait to talk about this, please? Please?” I shifted my eyes as a way to point to the kids.

  “Yes. Yes, we can. And will.”

  “Thank you.” I slouched some in my seat and turned my attention out the window.

  It could be said it wasn’t really any of Martin’s business, but in a sense it was. What Lane and I did with our lives, affected his grandchildren.

  I had a lot more to tell Martin than about the dissolution of my marriage. Much more than could all be said in the short four mile trip in a pickup truck.

  TWO – OMNI MISSION

  With Martin’s ranch seeming so far off the grid, the kids and I resolved ourselves to a tech free visit. I wasn’t expecting internet, let alone the amazing speed we picked up.

  Maybe it was the wide open area and clear sky that just made conditions too perfect.

  He had the greatest front porch ever. One of those big wraparound porches with comfy rocking chairs lined up like he was expecting company. The weather was so perfect I could have stayed out there all night.

  Plus, I had a great signal.

  There were a lot of notifications from our Olympus group. Particularly comments on a post about when we should get there.

  Some, like me, were already on their way. There were a few worried they wouldn't get there in time.

  The advice was if you don’t get to Olympus before it starts, journey slow, take cover, and watch the sky.

  Easy enough. But that wasn’t my worry. I’d be there with the kids in time to help set up.

  The screened porch door opened with a squeak and slammed against the frame. When Martin stepped out, he had two bottles of beer and handed me one. Then he paused to light a cigarette

  “Nice night,” he said.

  “I thought you quit smoking.”

  “Let’s try this again.” He sat down next to me. “Nice night.”

  “It is. I thought you quit smoking.”

  “I did and started again. Drinking, too.” He smiled. “Talking to the new boyfriend?”

  “Huh? No,” I laughed my response. “Please. It’s my scientist friend I met in a group.”

  “Scientist friend? From the weather service?’

  That made me laugh again. “Ya know what’s funny, is when he friend requested me, he thought I worked as a meteorologist there. I had to tell him I was a Chief Listening Officer.”

  “What exactly is that? You did that for Burger King, too, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, your job all day is to watch social media for people talking about the company.”

  “Sounds like a cake job.”

  “It’s very stressful, Martin.” I took a drink of my beer. “One missed tweet and it can be your job.”

  “Is it the stress that made you leave Lane?”

  “Of my job? No.”

  “Did he turn into a drunk? I know a lot of rodeo people who do.”

  I shook my head. “Not Lane.”

  “Is he beating you?” Martin asked. “I heard a lot of rodeo men beat their wives.”

  I scoffed. “Please. No. I would beat him in a fair fight.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Women. He has a little thing on the side,” I said. “Mary Sue or Betty or some old fashion cowgirl name.” I looked at him. “What? No comment about how a lot of rodeo men cheat?”

  Martin shook his head. “That would be labeling.”

  “You’re funny.”

  “But he isn’t beating you.”

  “No!”

  “Then you can work it out.”

  “No.”

  “Affairs can be forgiven and not repeated. Beatings cannot.”

  I stood and walked to the railing. “Martin, I am not going to stay with someone who has affairs. I’m not. And don’t give me the old man macho response it was something I did.”

  “I’m not saying it was. I’m saying it takes two to make a marriage work and two to make it go bad.”

  I shook my head. “Marriages can be bad, but there is no reason to stray. None. I worked my job, I was there. I took ca
re of the kids and cleaned the house fairly well.”

  “You’re right. But don’t you think after twenty years you owed him a note?”

  I paused in taking a drink. “Who told you I didn’t leave a note?”

  “Carlie.”

  “Oh, she has a big mouth.” I returned to my seat. “He knows.”

  “Because you told him you knew about the affair.”

  “I didn’t tell him anything. Can we not talk about this?” I asked. “I have more stressing things to worry about.”

  “Sure. I take it leaving your husband wasn’t the reason you packed up a beater RV and came here?”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Is it a financial problem?” he asked. “I can help.”

  “No, Martin, I’m here …” Before saying anything else, I looked to see if the kids were in earshot. “I’m here because the world is going to end.” I turned my head to look at him when I saw him choking on his beer.

  “Sorry.” He wiped his mouth. “I was just not expecting that.”

  “I did kind of just blurt it out.”

  “Is this something that’s going to happen soon?”

  There was something pacifying about his tone. “You don’t believe me.”

  “I believe you believe it. When is this supposed to happen?”

  “Probably it will start in the next week. It could happen as soon as two days.”

  Martin nodded slowly. “That’s concerning.”

  “See, make fun, I was going to ask you to join us at the safe haven.”

  “What is that?”

  “The only place on this continent that won’t be touched.”

  “And you have access to this place?”

  “Martin, you’re making fun of me.”

  “How is this supposed to happen?” he asked.

  Again, I looked over my shoulder.

  “Are you making sure the kids don’t hear?”

  “Yes.”

  “You dragged them in an old RV and weren’t going to tell them where you were going and why?”

  “I don’t want to scare them.”

  “Oh, of course not. Now, how is this going to happen?”

  “Geo-warfare.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Geo-warfare. It’s a type of bomb. Instead of nuking the enemy you freeze them or drown them or whatever. Different types of bombs.”