 
**The Day Time Ran out**

unabridged updated version

Darrel Bird

Copyright 2010 by Darrel Bird

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords License Statement

_This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author._

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth. Revelation 6:8

Atlanta burning

At the CDC Atlanta Dr. Vernon Sedgwick hooked the air supply hose into his bio suit and opened the door of the level 5 bio containment where a fresh slide of the virus lay ready.

He nimbly moved manipulator control then gave the glass slide a final bump as it slid under the electron microscope.

Although the germ was small it couldn't hide from the best microscope in the world. "No Sir my tiny friend, you cannot hide your face from me no matter how small you are. Come to poppa now and don't be shy."

He began adjusting the microscope a micro meter at a time and as the dimness cleared a shining metallic like figure came into view. He stared at what had already killed half of Atlanta. The virus resembled a vortex, so unlike the Ebola virus which killed quickly enough, but this thing was twice as deadly.

He jumped when the virus he thought was dead exploded into a fireworks of color then settled back down, only this time it was larger and more ugly. Fear like he had never known filled his gut.

"Lacy...Lacy!

"Yes doctor Sedgwick?"

"I thought you said you treated this virus before it was handed off to me?"

"Yes sir...it was."

"Then why is it still alive?"

The slender good looking woman on the other side of the inch thick glass stared at him for a moment.

"We did treat the virus Doctor, you know I don't guess at those kinds of things, that's why I work in level 5.

"Well...never mind it's just as good, get suited up and come in here."

"Doctor, you know the two of us are not supposed to be in there at one time, it's the rules!"

"Well to hell with the rules, just get your pretty ass in here; the rule makers are mostly dead!"

The 29 year old graduate of Nova South Eastern and Cal-tec donned the bio suit quickly and stepped through the airlock door as it slid behind her and sealed.

"What are you so excited about?"

"This...take a look at this."

He readjusted the microscope until the vortex virus was again clear; she stared at it a minute then jumped back as it bloomed again like a beautiful but deadly flower.

"Oh God!

As she stared into the microscope he reached over and hit the button that would seal their fate. She did not hear as the oiled 2 inch bolts in the door slid softly closed.

He reached into a drawer and as she stared at the image he put the gun close to her temple, just touching her bio suit and pulled the trigger, then he aimed the gun at his own head and pulled it again.

The first time Atlanta burned was during the civil war, the second time it burned was when the war against a man made virus was lost and Atlanta would never burn again.

The bio suited bodies of Dr. Lacy Miller and Dr. Vernon Sedgwick would watch over the bio containment level 5 long after the suits finally rotted off heir bones and blank eye sockets as a testimony to what man could do to himself. They would stay a hundred feet under ground while Atlanta sank into oblivion.

The virus hunter

Iris Pritcherd had worked for W.H.O since college, and was presently attached to the Atlanta Center for Disease Control when the call came in from Chicago that people were sick with a virus the doctors didn't recognize. The CDC told her to take Fred Limpkin, and go see. That suited her fine as she was madly in love with Fred Limpkin. At the CDC they called him 'The Lumpkin.' That bothered Iris not at all because he was a handsome catch with a good personality.

A virus didn't worry Iris, because she had chased virus's all over the wide world, and came out unscathed. She had returned from Africa the month before, tired, lonely, and looking for something different than poorly built, poorly furnished outback bush hospitals.

Dr. Lyle Richards, also of W.H.O took her arm at the airport, "When you get there, and find out what's what, report in immediately, it's probably nothing those hick doctors can't fix by themselves, but we get paid for the routine."

"Yes doctor." She said, but her thoughts were _asshole_ as she followed Fred through the gate to board the plane. She didn't like Richards because he treated her as if she didn't know what a virus was. As she walked down the covered ramp to the plane she remembered Africa, where all the interesting stuff was. She had hoofed it through jungles to find the first victims of some real nasty stuff such as Ebola.

After they were in the air she laid her hand on Fred's leg and squeezed, "What say we take a little me time when we land? A day won't hurt."

"They told us to go directly to Chicago Medical Center didn't they?"

"Well for cripes sake Fred, if you don't want me just say so!"

"I didn't mean that Iris, of course I want you." _The sex is too good to pass up_ flashed across his mind like a rock skipping across a pond. He looked sideways at her out of the corner of his eye as if she could detect his thoughts. Of course she didn't know that he was using her just for the sex. He knew the women they worked with laughed at her behind her back, because they knew him as the biggest woman chaser in Atlanta.

"Lets just both turn off the phone, and have some fun for once."

"Ok, I'm for that." Fred returned.

They got a hotel room in down town Chicago Tuesday at six pm, and slept late the next day. They didn't emerge from the hotel room until Thursday morning at nine AM. They caught a cab to Chicago Med holding hands with Fred thinking, _Thats the best time I've had in years_ , _she is like a teenager_!

As soon as they walked up to the front desk they knew immediately that something was terribly wrong, and instinctively realized their mistake, because the hospital was swarming with sweating doctors and nurse's, and there were beds in the hallways almost out to the front desk.

The woman answering the phones hardly looked up as they announced who they were, she just slung her head at the hallway, and continued talking on the phone. They walked slowly toward the hallway when they spied a doctor, "We are here to see Dr. Johnson?"

"Second floor, take a left and down the hallway... last room on the left."

They made their way between the beds, found the elevator which took a full eight minutes to make its way to the ground floor. Three nurses took the elevator with them and they saw fear in the eyes of those nurses. There were beds in the hallways of the second floor too as they made their way to Johnson's office and knocked.

"What, What?" They heard someone yell on the other side of the door. Iris pushed the door open to find Dr. Johnson on the phone, "Well get me someone in Atlanta!" He screamed and slammed the phone down, "What the hell do you two want?" He said glaring at each of them.

"I'm Dr. Iris Pritcherd from Atlanta."

"Where the hell have you two been? We've got a pandemic going on here!"

"We came as soon as we could." She lied.

He tossed a piece of film with a picture of the virus, "We don't know what this thing is, and we think the incubation period is twenty four hours."

"But that's almost impossible Dr." She had looked at thousands of viruses and this resembled none of them.

"Yeah well if you don't believe me the hallways are full of specimens, with fresh coming in all the time."

"But, we need to find the original carrier to isolate the virus Doctor, that's our job."

"No way in hell to do that, a third of Chicago has it." Iris looked doubtful at the doctor.

"Go down to the front desk and interview, and at least you can determine the approximate time of incubation until death." He sighed. "I have to get back to work."

_Incubation until death_? Her mind was whirring, and she had forgotten all about Fred. He followed her along like a lost puppy. He already knew he was in trouble, because he had skipped all the serious diseases, and bluffed his way along for years. Iris was the brightest star in his heavens.

At the front desk she caught hold of a nurses sleeve, and explained who she was. The nurse looked relieved, and took her to a young girl of about seventeen. Iris began to question the girl to determine when she got sick.

"I got sick yesterday about four PM, and I came to the hospital last night about midnight. Do you know what is wrong with me?"

"Probably just a bad case of the flu dear." But she knew she was lying through her teeth. She stayed with the girl until she took her last breath at five thirty that evening.

"Lets get out of here Fred, there's nothing we can do here."

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the hotel. I've got to get some sleep, I'm aching all over from the trip, and from rutting with you." She looked at him accusingly.

"That was your idea." He reminded her.

They were able to catch a cab back to the hotel. She called Atlanta when she got up to the room, "We know." Atlanta said. What Atlanta CDC didn't tell her was that they got the information from Los Angles Mercy hospital. By eight that morning Atlanta had written them both off as being useful.

By the next morning they were both aching and feverish. That afternoon they made feverish love, laid back sated, sick, and would be dead by eight that evening. Two days later the hotel burned down, and there was no trace of them existed any more.

Before Dr. Johnson died he would have said, "At least they got a little time to themselves." Because Dr. Johnson was a kind man to really did care for people of all ilk.

The Road

Virgil and Jan Grissom were just a normal couple, living in upper end of Beverly Hills. They weren't part of the show crowd. Virgil had an auto repair shop, and Jan was a dental assistant at the local dental clinic. They did pretty well for themselves, just living their lives before _the day_.

They still remembered the hell-fire and brimstone preacher who had come on television, stomping around on the stage and warning about the things to come, but they didn't believe him. He had made his way out of the missions to Costa Mesa, where they had some sort of Christian televised show that ran 24 hours a day. This preacher was sort of weird, and sounded like he was from the south. It was entertaining when he got really lathered up; he would yell and scream about something called the great tribulation.

Turns out the crazy sucker wasn't so crazy after all, because in one short month, everything went from business as usual to hell in a hand basket, right after he preached his best sermon yet. Virgil and Jan sat on the couch that Sunday morning, eating popcorn and having a good old time watching him stomp and yell and wipe sweat off his face, while spit was flying everywhere. They laughed until they hurt. It was one month before the day that the preacher preached his last sermon down in Costa Mesa. The TV station closed the day after he preached it, and they must have all gone home.

Virgil had just gotten a contract to take care of a fleet of cars for the Hollywood crowd, and they were in the dough. It looked good as far ahead as they could see, until the day some Muslims stepped off a plane in Chicago with a load of a brand new blood-sucking germs with an 80% kill ratio. The rag heads didn't get far, after they broke the beakers, before they were dead too, was Virgil's thought on it, but it didn't change a thing just because they were dead. The germs killed quickly and painfully. Filthy looking sores broke out on people, and they were dropping like rocks.

Other planes landed in New York, Cleveland, Los Angeles, and Orlando, and the world as they knew it ground to a halt inside of a week and a half. The plague spread like wildfire blown before the winds of high speed travel. People rushed to the hospitals and killed the doctors and nurses and the people in the hospitals with what they brought with them. The ones who were just getting well got sick all over again; only this time they didn't survive. The germs quickly made their way to the CDC, and killed the workers by the droves. People fled from the cities to the farm land, only to kill the farmers. The truck drivers with their loads of freight died en route to the cities, and the trucks rolled to a halt on the freeways and the interchanges.

Some fell dead with heart attacks as they saw the waves of death coming at them from every direction. Some sat and hugged their money to their chest, just in case it would buy them a day or two. It didn't. The grocery stores ran out of food in a day; the gas ran out next. They guarded the hospitals with automatic weapons, and killed anyone who tried to break through the lines; yet it wasn't nearly enough. The National Guardsmen died too, with their weapons in their hands.

The wheels of the industrial nations quickly came to a stop, and the Bedouins died in their tents in the desert. The gray horseman galloped back and fourth across the land, his steed rearing and pawing the air, a hideous smile on his face. As he rode to and fro across the earth, hell followed after him.

Los Angeles quickly became unsafe for the few survivors to come out of their houses. The wicked became more wicked, and they had the run of the gun shops. They had all the weed and dope they could smoke and shoot up their nose, and they killed for the sake of killing. They would kill a man for a dime, when they could get money for free just by walking into the stores and banks.

So far, the germs hadn't touched the Grissoms, or they were some of the lucky ones who were immune to this thing; only time would tell. They kept hoping things would get better, so they holed up. But they stayed too long, as most other people did. Finally, the city water ran out, and it was time to go. The other survivors must have realized the same thing, because it was as if a message was sent along an invisible wire, "Get out of Dodge, and do it now."

"Virgil! What are you doing?"

"Just a minute, will ya?"

Virgil took one last look around the house, slammed the door, walked outside on the lawn and looked at the shop his father had built for him, then back at the neat ranch style stucco house.

He looked on past the house to the oak studded hills where he had carefully removed the underbrush so that forest fires could not overrun his house and shop buildings. The repair shop had only six bays, but it had furnished them a living.

_Sorry I have to leave it Dad._ The thoughts of his father saddened him; he had been a good father, a kind father who listened.

He walked to the loaded four wheel drive Land Rover. They were going to try to make it out of Beverly Hills by way of the Tujunga Canyon road, and then up over the hump and down to the interstate 5 after they cleared the Grayson Ranch, which lay atop of the mountain. His brother-in-law lived just outside of Porterville, and he had advised them to come on up, but Virgil was afraid they had stayed too long in the Los Angeles basin.

They wouldn't be able to get over the freeway that led out of Los Angeles; it was too clogged with wrecks and desperate people with guns who wanted anything that rolled. Virgil had made a trial run the day before, and it was just impossible. His only hope was to catch the freeway at Castaic junction, and then head north. In order to do that, they would have to make their way through Burbank over the back roads. He figured the roads would be somewhat clear past Castaic.

Anyway, they couldn't stay here, and perhaps there was food or fuel in the San Joaquin valley. There was food in the houses along the way, but no one dared to go foraging in them, because before the people at the CDC croaked, they had warned the people of the rampant disease that would be fermenting in houses with dead bodies soaking in the heat.

Virgil got behind the wheel and started the big Land Rover. He had the car behind their house for the last fifteen years. He had overhauled the engine and the transmission, intending on restoring the vehicle completely. On a whim last spring he had completed the job. Now he was glad he did, because if anything could make it over those roads, the Land Rover could.

Jan looked across the seat at him with fear in her eyes. She didn't want to leave the house at first; she just couldn't get it through her head that this had happened, and that her comfortable world was gone so quickly. She longed for the hair parlors and the Bunco dice games once a week with the girls. Now everything was a mess. Her hair wasn't professionally done, and she was mad as hell at anything she felt took away her comforts.

She was skinny, black haired, with a pretty face and cute turned-up nose, and it was love at first sight. He had met her at his high school basketball game. They had gotten married after high school and settled down in the quiet North Hollywood neighborhood where his father had built the garage for him.

Now it was all gone. Almost every one of their neighbors had died in the first week of the epidemic. Virgil wondered how or why they both had not died with them.

"You ready honey?"

"Yeah...Virgil, do you think we can make it to John and Nell's place?"

"I don't know, Jan, but if anything can make it, this old Land Rover will."

"I gave you a hard time about this thing lying in the back yard all those years. I'm sorry, Virgil."

"It's ok, honey. I know it was an eyesore, but it was my dad's car, and I just couldn't part with it after he passed away. Fasten your seat belt; here we go."

The car shifted smoothly as they pulled out onto the street and headed toward the Tujunga Canyon road. The scene was surreal. Beside him lay two pump shot guns, and a 357 Magnum was in a holster he had on his gun belt. It was a German-made replica of the Colt 45 revolver some guy had given him to fix his car, along with the western type gun belt. He had hung the pistol in the closet, only to practice with it from time to time up in the hills behind the house. He had gotten fairly good at hitting what he aimed at with the thing.

"You look like a cowboy with that thing strapped on." She smiled at him out of her hazel eyes. "The girls better let you alone."

"I can handle all the girls who come my way." He winked at her.

When they got into the canyon, about a quarter mile up, they rounded a bend, and came upon a large German Shepard dog eating at a dead body. The dog growled and snarled at them as they gently skirted the body. Virgil saw his wife cover her eyes as they passed the ugly scene.

All of a sudden he remembered the sinner man lyrics.

Oh Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?  
Sinnerman, where you gonna run to?  
Where you gonna run to?  
All on that day

He laughed, _You got that right, the song fits, but I'm gonna run anyhow, I got no other choice._ He looked sheepishly over at his wife, but her attention was on the narrow road.

The road snaked ahead through the hills that were choked with oak and underbrush on the left side and the canyon on the right that was equally choked with trees and underbrush.

They had gone maybe another half mile when they came to a stalled Arrowhead water truck that was cross ways in the narrow road. No one was in the truck. Virgil got out and began to take out a tow chain he had stowed in the back of the Land Rover. He hooked the chain to the truck and walked back to the Land Rover. A man and a woman roared up on two Harleys, and stopped about 50 feet away.

Pot shots and lions

Zack and Rosy Taylor had a pretty good life together until people began to get sick. They owned a small one bedroom house that had a three car garage out back. They lived ten minutes away from Disney Land on a quiet street in Anaheim California. They belonged to a small Harley motorcycle club, and when they went on long rides with the club they were generally in the saddle from early morning until late evening.

After work at the construction company where he was foreman, he worked on both their bikes, and those of a few friends from the club. When people began to get sick the news media said it was a strong strain of the flu, and he believed them for a while, until a weekend came and the club of 13 riders left to get on the 605 freeway to ride to the hills for a day of riding the twisties.

Right away they began noticing cars parked on the shoulders of the road with no police out writing tickets. As he was the leader for the day he looked through his rear view mirror and saw the bikers staring at the cars.

When they came to an over pass there was a car with a person in it with his head leaning against the driver side window. He gradually slowed to stop beside the car. He waved at the others to stay on their bikes, and he walked over to knock on the window. He saw no movement, and he opened the door. He caught the man before he fell to the pavement, and he could see the man was dead. One of the bikers walked up behind him, "What the hell? Is he dead?"

"Yeah, he's dead alright. Looks like he's been dead a while."

"Where's the police at Zack?"

"I don't know Boyd, how am I supposed to know that?"

"I don't like the general looks of the whole world." Another biker said as he hawked a loogy on the pavement."

"Geez that's nasty Spike, do you have to do that here?" Rosy looked at the brother in disgust.

"Sorry Rosy, I guess I'm coming down with a cold."

By that time the whole group was standing staring at the dead man. Rosy slipped her hand in his, "Poor man." She said in a low voice barely above a whisper. Rosy was so short he had to talk to the top of her head if she wasn't looking directly up at him.

"Rosy, I don't think we better ride today, lets get on the over pass and split back for home." He turned to the others, "Me and Rosy are going back home but before we go home we'll stop at the Memorial hospital to try to get some information. Its just three blocks off the freeway."

"Ok, call us if you find out anything." Boyd said, and they began to climb back on their bikes. When they came to the hospital exit the group waved back as they motored on down the freeway.

Zack pulled his bike as close to the front entrance of the hospital as possible, but the parking lot was filled to overflowing. "Stay here Rosy, while I go check with the desk."

"No, I'm going with you."

He knew it would do no good to argue as they had been married ten years, and she was a spitfire, "Rosy, I don't know what I would do without you."

"I don't know what you would do without me either, you big lug." She smiled up at him. When they got near the entrance they saw the two soldiers with M-16's at the ready. He walked up to one of the soldiers who looked at him with cold eyes, "What's going on here?"

"Theres no room in the hospital, are you sick?" The soldier looked up at Zack and took an instant liking to him.

"No, I'm just trying to get information."

"My advice to you is to go home and stay there, my partner had to kill a man this morning who tried to break through."

"That bad huh?"

"Yeah, that bad." He whispered, "My partner and I have been thinking we'll bug out in about an hour after the captain comes by, then they'll overrun this place like a steam roller running over dog crap. We got folks too ya know."

"Ok, well...good luck soldier, you guys always been on my like list."

"Good luck to you man." The soldier reached out his hand, and they shook hands. The soldiers hand seemed to linger a minute before he withdrew it ,and Zack could see the wheels turning in the mans head.

"Lets go Rosy, there's nothing here."

Back at home they sat and talked about an hour about what they had seen, then they heard a pop down the street, and then another one, "That was a pistol Rosy." He got up off the couch and went to the bedroom to retrieve his forty five auto off the top shelf of the closet. He threaded the holster onto his belt and holstered the weapon.

"Is that necessary Zack?"

"I don't know Rosy, looks that way though."

"Whatever you say Zack." He handed her his snub nosed thirty eight.

"Don't you even take out the garbage without this."

"The garbage is your job."

"You know what I mean."

"Uhuh."

They had plenty of food, and Zack always kept plenty of water bottles stacked in the garage for when the club came over, but the gun shots came more often as the week passed into the next. They kept tabs on the rest of the club members by phone until the phones went dead, then it became too dangerous for Zack to ride to check on the club members. Nine of the club members had already died or left town, he didn't know which. Boyd came to their house once, but never came again.

"I wonder how Bill and Linda are?" Rosy said.

"I just don't know honey. If you want I'll try taking a run to their house."

"No, we have to think of our own safety. Zack, I don't think we are going to be able to stay here much longer."

"I've been thinking the same thing babe. I've been installing an extra small gas tank on the bikes, I'll have it done by tomorrow. I installed them in the fiberglass saddle bags. It'll give us an extra two gallons if we have to hit the road.

That evening as Rosy was taking a shower the water stopped running, "Zack! The waters off damn it!"

Zack walked into the bathroom with a slim plastic bucket and opened the back of the commode, "Ok, stand there and I'll rinse you off."

"Thats cold Zack!" Rosy exclaimed as he began to pour water over her head.

"Do you want the soap?"

"Don't be a smart ass, just pour."

She stood there shivering as he wrapped a towel around her shoulders, "Want to make out?"

"You would say that at a time like this...Zack, it's time to go isn't it?"

"It was time to go the day we were going for a ride, and found a dead body on the 605 freeway. Amazing how we get so attached to one place."

"Thats ok, I am glad we stayed. This was our first home together. I love you so much Zack."

"You know how much I love you Rosy."

"Yeah, but you better not stop telling me. A woman has to hear it."

"We'll sleep in our bed tonight, and pack the bikes at dawn. We need to be on the 605 by seven."

Zack was up before dawn with a flash light in his hand packing the bikes. It was good daylight when he went in to wake his wife, "Get up honey, time to go, I have everything on the bikes."

She was instantly awake, "You should of woke me."

"I wanted to let you rest as long as you could. It will be a long day, I have us a bowl of fruit on the table. The coffee is made too."

"You're such a hero."

"You may not think so before this day is out."

The air off the ocean had a slight chill to it as the Harley's grunted to life, "Stay right behind me, but stay in my rear view."

"Ok." She let out the clutch a little on the big Harley and inched it forward. He let out his own clutch and they were moving. The morning seemed peaceful, but for the junk scattered in the streets and in front of some of the houses. There was broken front windows in some of them, and it reminded them that this was not a normal day in L.A.

They reached the 605 freeway on ramp and turned north, but before they got to the bottom of the on ramp Zack stopped his bike. There was a solid line of stalled cars on both lanes. They sat there idling the bikes, and stared at the tangle of cars.

Zack circled his finger over his head to signal Rosy, and then began turning his bike to go back the way they had come. When they got back to the house the front window was broken. They found a brick in the living room floor.

"Bastards!" Rosy exclaimed.

"No use getting excited, we can't stay here, we just have to figure how we are going to get out."

"Do you think we can use the number ten East?"

"Even if we could I don't want to end up on the desert. Do you remember the old fire road at the end of Tujunga canyon road? I was over it once, and it goes all the way over the mountains. The I-5 would be clear up there. We should come out at Castaic Junction."

"Yes, but can we climb fire roads with street bikes?"

"We might. At least it will get us out of the L.A. Basin if we can make it through Burbank. We can try to take side streets through North Hollywood, and pick up the Tejunga canyon road. I figure we can make it in four hours in the least."

"Ok big boy, lets go."

They threaded in and out of side streets that he wasn't familiar with, and sometimes had to double back. They had no more than crossed over into North Hollywood and met a lion coming down a street toward them.

Zack stopped quickly and sat the bike watching the lion, "What the hell is that?" Rosy asked.

"Its a lion, don't you know a lion when you see one?"

"Well...what's it doing in the street?"

"I guess someone freed the zoo animals as there would be no one to feed them."

The lion saw them and turned off through some hedges. A mile further down someone shot at them from a house. The bullet zinged off the concrete in front of Zacks tire, and he gunned it. He was going fifty miles an hour when he came to a sharp curve, and he felt his back tire slip a little. As soon as he got through the curve he checked his rear view, and was relieved to see his wife right behind him. He pulled over to the curb and stopped the bike, and his hands were shaking.

Rosy was calm, "That was close." She said.

"Are you ok? I nearly lost the bike back there."

"I'm ok, I saw what was happening with your bike, and I got slowed down enough to get through the curve."

They had to take more side streets which meant more backtracking, and by the time they reached the Tujunga Canyon road Zack was ready to call it quits for the day. Their mental systems were ready to call it a day too, because they had seen so many dead on the way.

Zack cut the engine on his bike, "Lets find a place to hole up for the night."

Rosy breathed a sigh of relief. She got off the bike, pulled off her helmet and shook out her hair.

"There is lots of daylight left." She said.

"Yes, but the dark may find us up in the Canyon. There's a house over there with a for rent sign on it so its probably empty. You stay here while I go check it out."

She watched him disappear around the side of the house, and then saw him open the front door. He lifted on the garage door and it raised easily. She cranked her bike and ran it into the garage. She went through the garage entrance and saw that the house was completely empty. He came through the door with their sleeping bags and spread them out by the large front window.

By the next morning at dawn they were both somewhat refreshed. They rolled the bike out of the garage and into the street. They started the bikes and entered the Tujunga canyon road for the long climb over the mountain.

Friends

"Need any help?" the man called out.

Virgil thought they might be part of one of the motorcycle gangs out of L.A and he listened for other bikers coming behind them, but heard nothing. There was not much wind in the canyon and he knew he would be able to hear more bikes heading this way.

The man was dressed in full leathers and so was the woman. She was a tiny woman and she looked out of place on the large bike.

"I might need someone to steer the truck," he called back. The man cranked the big Harley and pulled it closer; the woman stayed where she was. Virgil saw her hand go into her leather jacket, and he knew she had a gun in there. The large man got off the bike and walked over to the truck and got in.

"Pull until it gets to the edge of the road, then stop, and we'll push it over the side, ok?"

"Ok," Virgil said, as he cranked the big Land Rover's engine.

The chain went taut as the jeep pulled the truck to the edge of the road. The man got out as Virgil unhooked the chain; he unhooked the other end. They both walked to the back of the water truck, and with a good shove the truck rolled over the edge of the canyon road and crashed down through the underbrush to come to rest at the bottom of the canyon.

"Thanks," Virgil said, as he gathered up the chain.

"You're welcome," the big man replied. "You think maybe you might want a couple people riding along with you?"

Virgil looked warily at the man's bearded face, stained teeth, and half shell helmet. He tried to read the man's eyes, but the eyes told him nothing, as if the man took things as they came. "How do we know we can trust you?" He looked at him flatly.

"You don't, but I don't figure any of us have much of a chance with just the two of us."

Virgil thought a minute. "How good do you ride those things?"

"Buddy, I was born on a hog. How good can you drive that thing?" he said, pointing at the Land Rover.

Virgil laughed, "I can drive it, and I can fix it. I owned a garage a ways back down the hill."

By this time, the woman had walked over from the bike, and stood a few feet away, listening to the two men talk. She said nothing. Jan was looking suspiciously at her; she had a plain face, and a hard look about her. The crow's feet around her eyes and the streaks of gray in her long black hair announced that she was in her mid to late forties.

"You planning on going over the mountain and coming out at Castaic?"

"Yeah, that was the plan." Virgil's instincts were in full gear, as he appraised the situation. He liked the man; he didn't know about the woman. "So you think we might do each other some good?"

"We might. Hell...I'm just taking things as they go."

"Where did you come from?"

"We came out of Anaheim. It's pretty rough back there. The people who survived are killing each other right and left; we figured we would scoot."

"Were you part of some biker group down there?"

"We had our Bro's, but the most of them died. I don't know what happened to the one or two that lived, the club fell apart fast."

Virgil couldn't exactly place why, but he trusted the big man. He had a Lone Wolf patch on his jacket, and that was encouraging too. "I'm Virgil," he reached out his hand. The big man took it into his huge paw. His hands were rough and cracked from hard work.

"I'm Zack Taylor, and that there is my wife, Rosy." He indicated the woman in the leathers. "Come on over Rosy; we're going to do a ride along with these folks."

Rosy came walking over and extended her hand. She had grease embedded in her long nails, and she looked gravely up at him.

"Jan, get out and meet these folks." She got out of the jeep and came around. The women eyed each other up and down, and then as if some silent communication passed between them, they gave each other approval of some kind.

_You can never figure women out._ The thought passed through Virgil's mind like a fleeting bird, and then he was all business again. "Since we are going to do this thing, we need to trust each other explicitly; do you two have any food?"

"We got enough for three or four days in our saddle bags; how much you got?"

"About the same; maybe a little more."

Zack glanced up at the embankment, then back down the road, "You ready to ride? It's not safe sitting still for very long. Some people camped and were killed back down the road; both had shot gun blasts to the chest. The world has gone crazy, man."

"Yeah, let's roll."

The Ingathering

The two cranked their powerful engines, and the two big bikes made a loud racking sound that broke the silence of Tujunga Canyon. Virgil started the Land Rover and moved slowly up the canyon road. They passed house after house with their neat landscaping already becoming overgrown with weeds. They saw no one in any of the houses.

_A brush fire will take out every one of these houses._ Virgil thought as he maneuvered the land rover around the steep curves.

They soon came to the end of the paved road, and from here on, it would be just a pig trail of a road on over the mountain.

Virgil stopped the land rover and walked back to Zacks bike, "I've only been over this road once, years ago, it is just a forestry road now, and it may be washed out in places, if you need anything honk your horns."

"These street bikes aren't that great off road, but dirt bikes can't haul as much. We'll just have to see how it goes." Zack said, indicating the road ahead.

The Land Rover began to seesaw back and fourth on its heavy springs as it started the steep climb. The road snaked back and fourth up the mountain as the oak gave way to conifers. Although the state forestry maintained the road fairly well, it washed out often in heavy rains.

"Do you trust these people?" Jan yelled above the noise of the Jeep's groaning engine and the roar of the two bikes right behind them.

"Yeah, I trust them for now. Even so, you keep your hand on that shotgun, and if they make a wrong move, kill them both."

"I don't know if I can do that," she said, as she hooked her hand around the grab rail over the glove box of the jeep.

"You better, if you want to live," he said, matter of fact. She looked sharply at him.

"You have got to realize that things have changed, honey, and the world has just taken a huge dump on us. It ain't civilized anymore, if it ever was." The conversation came to a halt as the Jeep began to buck and sway up the steep mountain road, and the Harley's screamed, grunted, and spun their wheels while trying to get a grip on the loose gravel that coated the road.

I took them two hours to navigate the mountain road and come to the top of the mountain, and Virgil stopped the Jeep and killed the motor. The two bikers pulled up along side, and did the same. All they could hear in the silence was the sowing of the wind through the pine forest. It was about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun was baking the pine trees while the smell of pine needles and resin soaked the air.

They looked behind them at the Los Angles basin, and saw that the air was clearer than they had ever seen it, the tiny houses stood out crystal clear as dots in the valley below. The germ had taken care of what the EPA could not.

"What say we camp here for the night, Virgil? From here we have good vision, and a clear field of fire."

"Sounds good to me, Zack. If we keep going, it's going to put us in the low land around Castaic Junction; more dangerous there."

They looked across the hills; a forest fire burned somewhere up past Castaic Junction. Virgil reached into the Land Rover and pulled out his binoculars to have a look. He could see two gas stations and a grocery store at Castaic junction clearly through the lenses, but he saw no one. He swept the binoculars further on toward the smoke and saw the flames licking up to the sky. The fire, being swept through the grass and trees by the wind, had already jumped the freeway, with no one to fight the fire. He gave the glass to Zack, and waited while Zack scanned the visible terrain. He noticed with approval that Zack scanned the terrain with great care.

"I think we need to get off the road and back up into the trees a way for the night...There's no telling who might come in behind us. I don't think we have to worry too much about people trying to get into Los Angeles, but there are some mighty bad people trying to get out, though," Zack said, as he handed the binoculars back.

Virgil thought about that a minute. "Yeah, far enough back to make a small fire; it gets cold up here at night."

"Let's do it then."

Zack walked over to the big motorcycle, and cranking it up, he spun off over a clearing to their right, and headed for a grove of pine trees. They gathered fire wood for the night, and the girls opened cans of food, and began heating it over the fire.

Dark came slowly to the hills, and the air cooled swiftly. Zack threw another stick of wood on the fire as they began to huddle close to it in the night chill.

The pines blowing in the breeze gave off eerie shadows in the light of the camp fire.

"Virgil, do you think this is what the Bible speaks about in Revelation?" Zack looked at him intently, rubbing his hands together.

Virgil looked sharply at him, "You read the Bible?" he asked, surprised.

Zack, with his bearded, tough looking face, in his motorcycle garb, and his wife with her hard looks, looked right out of a Hell's Angels gang of cut throats, dopers, and thieves. "Yeah, I read it from time to time, I never did know how to take it...too many unusual things that are said in it, like a donkey talking to a man and such, but I have read most of it."

"I don't know, Zack, a preacher who has been coming on TV for a while now has been saying something like this was going to happen. I thought he was pretty loony, but now I'm not sure but what he was crazy like a fox."

"Yeah, I heard him talking about the four horsemen of Revelation. Society fell so quickly; one day we're having it pretty good, then the next, BAM!" Zack said, striking his hands together.

"You guys are giving me the creeps." Jan leered at the both of them. She looked out of place from the rest with her Clara Paget designer jeans and her cover girl make-up.

Rosy just sat and looked around at the three of them, her face stoical. Suddenly, she looked at Jan and snarled, "You might try getting your head out of your ass lady, or haven't you noticed we are not in the best position to go getting on our high horses here."

Rosy hadn't said two words since they hooked up, and Jan looked at her plain face with surprise, "What do you know about it?"

Rosy turned and looked at her, "I know enough to start getting my head on straight, and you better start doing the same. My mom was a Christian. I didn't believe her, but I do now!"

"Cut it, the both of you! We don't have the luxury of fighting here. If this is going to start, we're beat already."

"Zack's right, girls, we better start trying to think...all of us. Zack, do you believe this is what the Bible and that preacher were talking about?"

"I wasn't sure before, but I took a Bible class at UCLA for extra credit, and I remember explicitly what it says in Revelation about one of the horsemen... 'And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him.' If you look at all the financial woes the whole earth has been in, then along comes this, it begins to make sense. Yeah, I believe we are right smack dab in the tribulation time," Zack said, as he spat at the fire.

"You went to UCLA?" Virgil looked at Zack in surprise.

"Four years; right out of high school and into college."

"You don't look like a college grad."

"What does a college grad look like?"

"Well...they are not usually the biker variety."

Zack grinned at him. "I started riding when I was eleven years old, then I started fixing my own bikes, and I have had a love affair with bikes ever since. I didn't get to ride much in college, but when I got out, I decided I didn't want the business world, so I took a job in construction and became the foreman. That gave me time to ride. I met Rosy here, after a club party, and we hooked up; we've been together nine years now. What about you? What's your background?"

"Oh, nothing much...I always loved tinkering with cars, so as soon as I got out of high school, dad built me a garage, and he helped me run it until he passed away a few years ago. Mom passed away right after. I just don't think she could live without dad; she took pneumonia and just faded away. I guess I was lucky to have parents who could afford to give me a start."

Rosy suddenly sat up, "You know, it's almost like we were meant to meet. With the combined experience you two have, we might be able to survive this."

Virgil and Zack looked sharply at her plain face, and Virgil saw a wisdom there he hadn't seen before.

"You may be right, Rosy; neither of us wants to harm the other, and I think we can make a pretty good team."

Zack held his hands out to the fire and stared into it in deep thought. Finally he spoke. "I don't know about you all, but I am going to start praying and living the best I can. Maybe the God of that Bible has something for me to do yet. I don't want to hold out false hope, because if this is what I studied about in Revelation, its going to get worse...far worse, but I don't want to spend an eternity in hell, after going through hell on this old earth."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, buddy."

"Me too," Rosy chimed in.

Jan just looked at the three of them and snickered. Her face looked pinched in the glow of the fire light.

Rosy looked at her and spoke, "My mother was a Christian; she took me to church up until she died. I was only fourteen at the time. I slept around until I got hell beat out of me. We lived in East LA until Mom passed away. Dad had left us years ago, when I was a baby. When Mom passed away, I lost it a little, I guess, but now I'm glad she took me to church regularly."

"Zack saved my life when a pimp tried to beat me to death... Zack came along down the alley on his bike and whipped him to a bloody pulp. I thought he was going to kill him. He put me on his bike, and I've been with him ever since. Times were always hard in East LA, never knowing where your next meal was coming from."

Jan looked humbly at her with new respect in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Rosy."

"Nothing to be sorry about, sis. If I hadn't of had hard times, I don't believe I would be able to face this; plus, it gave me Zack." Zack put his arms around her shoulder, and tears came into her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away with the back of her hand.

Virgil looked at the two of them, and was glad he had found them. Jan was humbled by the poignancy of the moment, and she slipped her hand into Virgil's and looked up at him. "I guess I better start giving my man some respect." She smiled.

"Guess you better, and I guess I better start taking better care of my woman."

After a while they crawled into their sleeping bags, and soon the sounds of regular breathing of the sleep of the exhausted came to Virgil's ears, but he lay awake a long time thinking of the conversation that had taken place between the two couples.

A night bird gave its sleepy call across the top of the mountain, the wind sowed through the pine trees with its soft voice, and for the first time in his life, he thought deeply about God, and he prayed until he slept.

At day break, Virgil gently shook the others awake and they silently loaded the bikes and the Jeep. No one said anything as they quickly packed. The bikes roared to life, and the Jeep growled its displeasure at the whole situation.

Jan crawled into the Jeep and they started the long slow downgrade off the mountain and away from Tujunga Canyon and the life they had left behind forever. The bikes popped and the Jeep groaned as they made their way down the last steep road, and started the gradual climb toward Castaic Junction.

By 9 o'clock Castaic came into view. They stopped the vehicles while Virgil scanned the two filling stations and the store, a half mile away with the binoculars. He thought he saw movement at the side of one of the buildings, but he couldn't be sure, and he didn't see it again.

"We better go in slow and easy," he said, as he slipped the binoculars between the seats. They drove on slowly toward Castaic; Jan held the shotgun between her legs as they drove. The scrub oak gave way to pasture land the closer they got to Castaic junction. As they pulled up under the overhang of one of the filling stations, something began gnawing at Virgil's gut. He couldn't put his hand on it, but something just did not feel right.

Zack and Rosy pulled up beside them on the bikes, but left the motors running. Virgil eyed the grocery store across the street from the Chevron station, and again thought he saw movement. Just then, a door opened in a metal outbuilding, and a man came out with a rifle in his hand; two more emerged from the back of the filling station.

"You got gas mister, and we want it."

Two more armed men emerged from the grocery store. Zack just looked at Virgil, drew his forty five automatic and started shooting, taking out two of the men closest to him. Virgil dove over Jan and opened the door, pushing her out and to the ground. He came up shooting the 357 Magnum at the three who came out of the grocery store, hitting two and putting a bullet through the other man's leg. The man went down, his leg splintered by the heavy bullet. One of the men started running up the road toward the freeway. Zack jumped on the hog, and chased the man, firing as he went. The man went down in a pool of blood a hundred yards away.

Zack came riding back, and asked, "Did we get them all?"

Virgil was standing by the Jeep, injecting a shotgun shell into the barrel of the 12-gauge. "There's one lying over there; I think I hit his leg."

"Kill him, Virgil. If you don't, I will."

They walked over to the man who lay there groaning, his leg was crooked and bent back under his body where the bullet had taken out the bone.

"Please help me; I'm going to die if you don't."

"You're going to die anyway, mister. You chose your path to follow. Now you're going to follow it to hell.

"No...please!"

Virgil shot the man through the head, and then turned and walked back toward the Jeep, he had spatters of blood on his face. Jan looked at him with horror in her eyes. Rosy was her stoical self; she just turned and got on her bike.

Virgil stared hard at her, and read her eyes. "You didn't even fire the shotgun...Woman, you better get the craziness out of your skull, forget the fingernails and the hair do's, and begin realizing that world is gone. Those people would have killed us and raped you till you died."

Jan looked down. "I just can't kill people like that." The tears leaked down her face, make-up beginning to run.

"Then you'll die, and I can't help you. You have to do your share or you will take others with you."

Zack walked over to Rosy, taking her pistol and smelling the barrel. "It's been fired," she said. "Why don't you guys go and see what you can find in the grocery store, while I talk to her, OK?" Rosy looked at them and winked.

"Ok," Zack said. Virgil followed him toward the grocery store. "Let's give them a few minutes, but only a few; we've got to go."

"Yeah," Virgil replied.

The grocery store had been stripped of everything; they walked to the shed in back of the station, and found a hand pump with a long hose attached. Zack carried the pump to the locked fuel tank.

"Find something we can get this lock off with."

Virgil walked into the garage bay of the filling station and came out with a pair of bolt cutters. They were able to obtain about four gallons of dirty watery fuel from the very bottom of the tank. They filled the vehicles with the spare clean fuel and then poured the dirty fuel into the spare cans.

The two women came up just as they were strapping the can onto the back of the Land Rover.

"She'll be alright now," Rosy spoke up.

"We can't depend on her," Zack replied.

Rosie's eyes blazed at Zack. "Now you listen to me, Zackery Taylor. You don't know a damn thing about women, and you never have, so shut your trap!"

Zack looked at his wife in amazement; he had never seen her that way in all the time they had been together, and she had certainly never spoken to him in such a manner.

"I think she means it, Zack." Virgil grinned at him.

"We've got to get along, and we have to depend on each other. That's just all there is to it." Virgil gathered Jan into his arms. The tears leaked out again, but she had a different look about her.

"I can do it; you'll see."

"I know you can. Let's get on the road before we have more trouble. I think I heard a car coming down the mountain."

A pickup with two people in the cab and two on the back with guns pulled under the overhang of the filling station just as they climbed onto the freeway, heading north. They stared as they passed the blackened land the fires had left behind. The land looked surreal in the face of what had just taken place, but it looked fitting for such a time and place as this.

They came upon a Winnebago 30 minutes up the road, and a young girl got out and stood in the middle of the road. The Winnebago took up almost all of both lanes. Virgil stopped the Jeep in front of the girl, and she came around to the driver's door.

"My folks are sick; can you help us?" she said in a small voice.

"I doubt it. Do they have the plague?"

"I think so," the girl said.

"Please Mister, they are all I have. Everybody else is dead."

Virgil thought a minute, he looked out over the strata at the side of the road where the road had been sliced through the hills, and the rock strata leaned up at a crazy angle from the pushing of the tectonic plates, the motorcycles idling behind him. Zack and Rosy cut the engines and walked around to the door.

"What's going on?"

"The girl wants us to look at her folks; she thinks they have the plague. What the hell," Virgil said, as he got out and walked to the door of the camper. He held a handkerchief over his nose and mouth, and climbed in. The man was already dead, and the woman gave it up just as he was taking her pulse.

He climbed out of the camper and walked back to the girl. "They're both dead now, honey."

"Oh no!" The girl looked at them, stricken. Jan put her arms around the girl, and pulled her close. The girl sobbed.

"Do you want to go with us now? We have to go." Jan motioned Virgil to get in the Jeep.

Zack and Rosy went back to the bikes, and Virgil waited while Jan whispered some words in the girl's ear. Soon, she led her to the door of the Jeep, and the girl crawled into the back seat.

"Lay down in the seat, Honey." Jan moved stuff farther toward the back, and the girl lay down. Jan tucked a pillow under her head.

"Drive, Virgil."

Virgil started the Jeep and skirted the camper, then on up the freeway that led to Bakersfield and points north. The girl slept the sleep of the exhausted as they wound their way to Gorman, which lay at the top of the "grape vine." There they would make the long steep descent into the valley.

The road was cluttered with vehicles, cars, trucks, campers; but for the most part, they were on the side of the road, where people had pulled over, too sick to drive, and had died in them. Everywhere they looked, the buzzards wheeled overhead.

A little further on, they came to another stalled vehicle in one lane of the freeway. A man got out of the car and stood in the middle of the other lane. Virgil honked his horn, but the man would not move, so he pulled to a stop about 30 feet in front of the man. Virgil glanced over at Jan, who had the shotgun trained on the man, her finger on the trigger.

"We don't mean any harm to you," the man said. "We just need help."

Virgil looked over at the car. There was a woman with two kids, looking scared. He saw no one else. Virgil got out of the Jeep and walked toward the man, his hand on the butt of his revolver.

The man was dressed in slacks and a white shirt with narrow suspenders holding the gray slacks up, he looked like a banker, or perhaps a lawyer with his perfect haircut and clean shaven face just beginning to show a five o'clock shadow.

"You going to shoot me with that thing?"

"I might. It depends on you. Where did you come from? Is anyone sick?"

"I came from Ventura. No, no one's sick, I'm a doctor...they're mostly all dead back there. I picked the woman up on the way, then the two kids. Her husband died on the way out of LA; the children's folks died too. I just couldn't leave them. Did you see a gang back down the road a ways? They tried to way lay us at Castaic Junction, but we ran. They didn't hear our car coming up, and we saw them ducking behind buildings, so I figured they were up to no good."

"They tried to take our gas. We killed them," Virgil said simply.

"Do you figure there will be more on the roads like that?" the doctor asked.

"There'll be more... people are either decent or not, and they will turn the way they are bent."

Zack and Rosy killed the bikes, and Zack got off and walked slowly up. He just stood listening, and said nothing.

"I think my car overheated; it doesn't seem to be out of gas. I don't know anything about cars; too busy going through medical school to learn much about them. Do you know anything about them?"

"I'll take a look, but we can't stay here long; too dangerous."

"I appreciate any help you can offer."

Zack already had the hood up. "Busted water hose; top one," he said simply.

"I have some extra hose in the jeep. Yours is a preformed hose, but I think we can get the straight one to work."

Virgil rumbled around in the back of the Jeep, and came back with the hose and a flat screw driver. He had the hose off and another one on in about five minutes. He got the 5-gallon Jerry can of water off the Jeep, and filled the radiator. The woman and the children sat silent all the while. The boy looked to be about eight, and the girl about six.

"You kids hungry?"

"Yes sir," said the boy, politely. "We ain't eat since yesterday."

"I'll get you something to eat," Jan said.

Jan took the children to the other side of the Jeep, and began rifling in the back for food for them.

"What are your plans?" The doctor looked at them intently.

"We, meaning Zack and I, have been talking that over. Jan's sister and her husband have a ranch just outside of Porterville, which lays the other side of Bakersfield. We have sort of worked on a plan to build up a strong hold. I've been up there and it's a pretty good location, with the mountains on the back side of the property, and a river running right near the house.

"We may have to plan on defending it, though. People who are bad will get worse and try to take everything they can by force; we don't aim to let that happen."

"Sounds like it might work for a while."

"Well..., it seems to Zack and me to be our responsibility to try and help others, instead of dying quickly ourselves, as long as we have a say in it."

The doctor held out his hand, "My name is Jack Perkins, the kids name is Bobby and Linda Bailey, I don't know the woman's name. She hasn't spoken a word since we found her."

"Glad to meet you doc."

The doctor looked off over the hills, "Do you think this is what the Bible talked about in Revelation, Virgil?"

"We have talked about that too, and yes, we think it is."

"I have never been a religious man. I guess eight years of medical school took care of that, but I am beginning to be a believer. If this is correct, we may be able to tell what to expect just by reading the Bible. I aim to do that as soon as I have the time."

"Right now, we have to keep rolling."

"Do you think we might be able to tag along?"

"I was hoping you would say that, Doc. We could use your skills as a physician. We may be able to offer you some protection in return. Can you shoot?"

"No, I'm afraid I never learned to do that either. I took an oath to save life, not take it. However, that probably doesn't count anymore; I'll do what I can."

"How about it, Zack?"

"I think we need him. Let's get back on the road."

They started the little cavalcade – the two children, the Doc, and the woman, following Zack and Rosy.

Virgil noticed the woman hadn't said a word. He thought she was probably still in shock, possibly from losing her husband and family. At Gorman they drove slowly past some people camped there, but they didn't want to take chances with them. The people just stood and looked at them as they passed on the freeway a few hundred feet away. _There's some safety in numbers_. Virgil thought as they passed the party camped at the gas station and restaurant that was Gorman, but at any rate the people didn't show any sign of hostility toward them. He supposed they might be headed for Oregon, or northern California. He wondered if the ranch would even be there.

Virgil stopped at the head of the grapevine, and walked back to the vehicles. "Everybody be sure and check their brakes; it gets really steep going down the mountain." Zack and Doc just nodded, and Virgil got back in the car for the long descent into the valley below. Funny, he thought, before this, I have crossed the pass a hundred times, and never even thought about checking my brakes. How things have changed in such a short time.

Halfway down the grade they came upon a semi-truck jack-knifed across the road. Its trailer had turned over and lay on its side across the freeway. Virgil stopped the Jeep, and walked around the cab of the truck. No one was around. He came back to the motorcycles. "I think we can make it around in front of the cab of the truck, Zack. "You two follow the Doc, then catch up and retake your position...No, on second thought it might be good if you follow the Doc the rest of the way. You can maneuver better than he can."

"Sounds good to me."

He patted Zack on the arm and climbed back into the Jeep. It turned out to be a little tricky to skirt the truck and stay out of the ditch, but they went around without incident. They rode on for the better part of an hour, driving slowly, until the outskirts of Bakersfield came into view. Then they exited off the I-5 and onto the 99 freeway, which led all the way to Sacramento.

Virgil again stopped the Jeep, and walked back to Zack's motorcycle. "I think we better not try to stop in Bakersfield; it's too dangerous. We'll go straight on to the Porterville cut off, I'm going to drive faster going past Bakersfield, if nothing gets in my way."

"I was thinking the same thing, buddy."

Virgil turned, got into the car, and drove on. Before they got into Bakersfield, they could see the smoke from the fires. Bakersfield was burning.

By the time they got to Wible Road and the highway 58 cutoff, the smoke was so thick they could barely breathe. The freeway was choked with overturned, wrecked, and burning cars. He wondered what was going on in that town, but he dared not stop or slow down, as he skirted the wrecks as fast as he could. _The sooner we get through here, the better I will like it._ The thought rolled through his mind as he skirted another wreck.

Just outside of Bakersfield, they approached a wooden barricade across the freeway. Some men with guns stood in front of the barricade. He stopped the Jeep and got out and walked around to Zack. "Barricade about 200 yards up the road." He stated simply. It's being guarded by armed men, Zack."

"Well, to hell with them, man. We ain't stopping; let's plow through them. I'll use your Jeep and Doc's car as cover."

"That's what I was thinking. They may be local militia, but we can't take the chance."

He walked on back to the doctor's car. "Doc, there's a barricade up the road. We are going to try and punch through it, no matter what happens, don't stop, ok?"

"Ok, Virgil."

"You kids lay low in the back seat. Lady, you better get down too." The woman looked at him with blank eyes, not saying anything; she didn't move to comply either. _I wonder if she will ever make it back to the real world._ The thought slid through his mind quickly, and he turned to the job at hand.

Virgil walked back to his Jeep and got in. The big Land Rover had an iron brush guard on the front, with a heavy winch mounted on it. He drove slowly toward the barricade, and then punched the gas pedal to the floor board.

The men guarding the road saw what was happening and scrambled to get out of the way as the Land Rover roared toward the road block. The car crashed through the barricade at 60 miles an hour, breaking up the wood as it went. He heard a shot ring out and saw Rosie's bike wobble in his rear view mirror, but the bike straightened up and came on, the Doc following in hot pursuit.

He kept going for more than a mile before he slowed the car, stopped, and pulled over. He got out and walked back. "Everybody ok?" He looked at the small group.

"I think I'm hit," said Rosy. "My arm."

"Doc," he called, "can you come take a look?"

The doctor got out of his car and walked forward. Rosy was pulling her heavy leather jacket off. When she did, he saw the blood showing through her sleeve in the fleshy part of her upper arm. He took some sharp scissors from his medical bag and began cutting the sleeve away from the wound.

"That's my nicest blouse, Doc."

"We'll get you another one." He grinned at her.

Zack frowned at the wound, "Damn, it don't look bad, but that was close."

The doctor began swabbing the wound with an alcohol swab. "It's just a flesh wound. She'll be ok in a few days." He put some kind of salve on the wound, and then bound up the arm with gauze.

"Will you be ok to ride, Rosy?" Zack asked her tenderly.

"Yeah, I'll be ok, Zack. Let's go," she said, as she began pulling on her leather jacket.

"I ought to go back and shoot every one of those sons a bitches," Zack said angrily.

"Zack, we can't afford that kind of thing." Virgil looked at him. "And you know it. We have to keep our heads if we are going to live long."

"I know it." Zack got on the Harley and cranked the big bike up, but he looked mean. Virgil got the idea that if anyone touched his Rosy, they were in mortal danger.

He walked to the Jeep and got in, cranked up, and drove on. It went smoothly the next five miles until they came to a sign that read "Porterville next exit." The little cavalcade pulled in at the Chevron station, and a man walked out of the front door. He had a blue work uniform on, with a greasy rag hanging from his back pocket. They saw no sign of weapons on the man. They looked around suspiciously, but saw no one else.

He walked up to Virgil's jeep, "You need gas?"

"Yeah, how much do you want for it?"

"Man, I don't want anything for it, what do I need money for?" The man looked at him in amusement. "Besides, you have to pump it from the ground yourself; no power."

"We'll pump," Virgil said with a grin. "What are you doing still here, if I might ask?" Virgil looked at the friendly man.

"Got no place to go." He looked at Virgil seriously. "Been following the news that people bring in. This thing has circled the globe and then some, the way I get it. People dying like flies. All my employees are dead, and so I alone am here. I buried them out back," he said sadly.

Virgil liked the man right away; he was fifty-ish with graying hair and a rugged face. They pumped the gas out of the tanks into cans furnished by the station owner. "Seen any bad men or gangs?"

"I've seen a few, but they haven't given me any trouble since I just give them what they want. Where did you folks come from?"

"LA basin."

"How is it down there?"

"Bad, and getting worse. We had to fight a gang down at Castaic Junction; it wasn't a pretty sight. We picked up the folks in the car on the way to Gorman. The kids lost their family, and so did the woman in the car."

"That's really tough," the man said sadly. I am divorced; my ex lived in San Francisco with my kids. I don't know how they have fared."

Virgil saw tears start to gather in the man's eyes. "Why don't you come with us? We are heading up to Porterville to my brother-in-law's ranch." He knew he should have consulted with Zack on this, but he blurted it out before he knew he was going to, and the man's sadness touched him deeply.

"I might just do that. You seem to be some decent folks, and there's not much gas left to pump anyhow." The man seemed in deep thought for a minute. "Yeah, I think I'll tag along. You know you are a natural born leader, don't you?"

"Me?" Virgil said. "No, I'm not a leader."

"Yes, you are," the man said, as he looked deeply into Virgil's eyes. The man's eyes twinkled a little.

"Come on over and meet the rest. What's your name?"

"Gus Malloy."

They walked over to the cavalcade just as Zack was finished with the last car. "Zack, I want you to meet Mr. Gus Malloy; this here is Zack Taylor." Virgil gave introductions all around. "I took it on myself to invite him to go with us." Zack just looked at him, but he knew Virgil well enough by now to trust his judgment.

The little group began to pile into the vehicles, and Gus fell in behind in his Ford pickup. They drove the remaining miles to Porterville without further incident. They passed through deserted streets. The pipes on the Jeep and the motorcycles echoed through the streets, and they saw no movement at all. If there were any people, they were staying behind locked doors.

The line of vehicles circled the dam, and began the climb toward the ranch. Soon they were in the foothills, and came to the locked gate that was across the road to the ranch. Virgil got out of the jeep, and walked over to the gate. He shook the lock, and a voice came to him from a copse of trees a few feet away.

"There is a rifle trained on you, mister. You better turn around and go back to where you came from."

Virgil slowly raised his hands. "This is my brother-and sister-in-law's ranch. They invited us here."

"You say John is your brother-in-law?"

"That's right; my name is Virgil Grissom, and this is my wife, Jan, sitting in the Jeep."

"You will have to stay there until I can get someone up to the ranch to verify you. I suggest you don't move a muscle in the mean time. We have orders to shoot to kill."

"Fair enough; could I sit in the Jeep? I'm pretty worn out," he called back.

He heard some words he couldn't make out; then the voice answered, "I guess that would be ok. I better not see any weapons, though. You get in there and sit still."

Virgil turned and climbed back into the seat of the Land Rover. He saw a man leave up the gully and come out a hundred yards up the road on a horse. He knew the ranch lay a half mile up the road, and it would take a while before anybody could get back. He stared at the rolling hills that rose one after the other to the smoky air of the Sierra Nevada range.

Cattle occupied those hills and draws, enough meat for many seasons, but he knew in his heart their lives would probably run out before too many seasons had passed.

"I wonder if Nell is ok," Jan said, while she fidgeted in her seat.

"No use letting your imagination run amuck, honey. Whatever has taken place here, has taken place, and there's nothing we can do but accept it."

"Yeah, I know, but my heart is pounding."

"I know, Jan. I'm scared too, but we have to get tough in a hurry."

"I love you, Virgil."

"I know, and I love you too."

"What will we do if they won't let us on the ranch?"

"We'll do what we have to, to survive; either here or there, I guess. I was thinking that if they don't allow us on, we could maybe find a ranch further on into the Sierra Nevada's and build a strong hold there. Many people, I think, will head for northern California and Oregon. This is our best bet here if John or Nell is still alive, we don't need the snow in winter."

"Nell is such a sweet sister; always has been. Do you remember how they helped us when we were first married?"

"I remember. John always seemed to be a good sort too. They were...are...a good match."

"Are we a good match, Virgil?"

"Naw, but I make do."

She grinned and smacked him on the shoulder. "Aww! That hurts."

"Baby!"

They sat and talked quietly as the minutes passed, and then from around the bend in the road, they saw two horses approaching. Then the horses disappeared into the gully where the man had come out on the road.

"I figure there's good cover from where they went in to the gate."

"Yeah, I don't see them," Jan said.

Soon a figure emerged from the trees; it was their brother-in-law, John Harris.

"Well, if it ain't Virgil and Jan! I had about given up hope you two were even still alive. How was the trip up, Virgil?" He hugged Jan, and wrung Virgil's hand.

"Pretty rough, I picked up some others on the way, John." He introduced Zack and the others to John.

"I trust your judgment Virgil; if you brought them I know they are ok."

"I hate to ask, John, but do you have room on the ranch for us to hole up?"

"We'll make room, we have been building steady now for a week. We have been hauling lumber from Waite's Lumber in Porterville. It's just there for the taking, but it won't last long, I'm afraid; so we are getting it as fast as we can.

"No one tried to stop you?"

"No, not so far. Say, let's get you all up to the ranch. He turned and locked the gate back as he led them through. "Keep a sharp eye, Jody."

"Sure will, boss," the man said, who had spoken from the trees. He had never shown himself, and Virgil knew they meant business.

They stopped the vehicles a few yards away from the main house. Nell came running out and hugged her sister close; both were crying tears of joy. Nell hugged Virgil and said, "I am so thankful you guys are safe. It's been almost too much the last few days."

"We are glad you are safe too, but I doubt if many of our kin folk made it through the first weeks of this."

"Come on in and we'll fix you all something to eat."

After introductions all around, they trooped into the house. Virgil observed the new out buildings, small huts really, and the lumber stacked around with markers stuck in the ground outlining more buildings.

The sun was setting in the west, and the men sat out on the porch and talked while supper was being prepared by the women.

John began to speak, "I want you all to hear what I have to say..." He hesitated, as if he was getting what he wanted to say together for the first time. The men waited silently.

"There have been people dribbling in, good people; it's almost like there is a magnet in this ranch, and they are being drawn to that magnet. I believe God is drawing people here for purposes unknown to me right now, and I may never know, but I believe he is."

"There have been many reports brought in of people having to fight some really mean people to get here. I never was very religious until late, but I have been reading the Revelation in the Bible." Zack glanced sharply at Virgil with knowing eyes.

"Somehow I believe that we are living in the time of the plagues mentioned in that Bible. Nell thinks so too, and so do a lot of others. What do you all think?"

"Something's going on," Zack spoke up. "I have been reading the Bible for a while now, and I came to the same conclusion; we are in the time of the apocalypse. Virgil and I talked about this on the way up. I'll let him tell you what he thinks, though."

"I am of the same mind. We had to kill some bandits at Castaic Junction. I didn't care for it, but I knew I had to. Zack and I talked about forming some kind of stronghold."

"That's what we are doing. I don't know why we are doing it; I only know we are. I want to talk more about this, but let's wash up for supper. I know you all must be starved."

After supper, the men gathered on the porch, and John began to speak again. "Here is what I think, although I can't be sure. God has let us live for his own purposes. I don't know what they are, but I think the people who were born again were taken to God's heaven in the first day of the plague. We unbelievers were not taken. I think the Holy Spirit the Bible speaks of has withdrawn his influence here on the earth. That means that if we obtain salvation, we will have to go on faith alone in what that Bible says.

"Furthermore, we will be killed just because we believe in the Bible and what it says. It seems like every one of the people that have been drawn to this ranch are ready to believe in that Bible."

"We have to work together and finish whatever it is that God wants us to do. We have to have commitment to love and care for one another until the very end."

"How do you know this John? I think you are right on, but how did you know it?"

John looked seriously at his brother-in-law, "I just don't know how I know it Virgil. I just know it, that's all."

"But John, shouldn't people start showing up with some kind of mark on them? I haven't seen any mark, even on the ones who tried to kill us."

"Watch closely, the ones who drift in here and won't join in the Bible studies, won't pray, they will leave and not come back. They carry the mark, the mark is on their soul."

They prayed over their meal that evening, a strange ritual for any of them.

The Way Home

They talked way into the night, and then John announced it was time they all turned in. "Nell will help you all get bedded down. Some of you will have to sleep in the other cabins; some of you can sleep here."

Virgil awoke the next morning to the sound of skill saws, generators, and hammers banging on wood. He went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet and some brownish water came out. He washed his face and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. The women were just finishing washing the dishes. "Why didn't you wake me?" he complained.

"John said to let you sleep. He wants to talk to you. He's out back feeding the animals; he'll be in shortly," said Nell. Jan looked at her, but said nothing.

Virgil walked into the living room, and sat down in one of the four easy chairs spaced around the big room. The furniture was covered western style; everything spoke of the early west. Indian blankets hung on the walls, and over the fire place hung an old Winchester and a pair of spurs. Nell had a good eye for decorating in a certain theme. He closed his eyes; he was still tired, but felt a lot better. John came in a few minutes later, and took the chair across from Virgil.

"Virgil, I am too old to lead this group. I talked to Zack, Gus, and the doc, and they all say they would pick you; you're a natural born leader."

"This situation is not going to get any better, and there is no future to look forward to here on this earth. If this is any indication of the scriptures spoken in Revelation, then three more of the horsemen will ride."

"I paid no attention to the Bible before this, and I should have. I put my faith in the wrong things; now I have put my faith in God. I believe that men on the earth are under judgment, a last chance to accept what the Bible tells us, as it were. All the years his Spirit drew me, and I didn't listen. Now we have to go on faith alone, either accept or reject, as you can see by the things you saw on the way up. Many men have gone all the way bad, and they will come after us, because they will hate what we have here."

"Daily Bible studies will be the norm, and the unbelievers will depart from this group, never to return. I believe there are probably groups like this all over the world, the ones who will believe, and the ones who will not. There is just no middle ground any more, and I believe you know this."

"I want you to lead this group of budding Christians, protect them, and fight for them or die for them, if necessary. I want you to think about it. Don't give me your answer today. Take your time, because what you commit to will either make you or break you."

San Francisco Blues

Dwight Turner unlocked the door to the Chop Shop, the business he had run for eight years. They built choppers for whoever could afford them, but now the business was gone, and all there was left were the bikes that were unfinished.

He opened his tool box and selected some wrenches and knelt by his latest creation; it was to be a bagger for a lawyer type who had come in and contracted for the bike, and he had paid the money up front.

All the bike needed was to tighten up the bolts that held the engine to the frame. He tightened the four bolts and walked over to the corner of the shop and picked up a Harley trunk, and he mounted that behind the seat of the bike.

He then stood back and lit a cigarette and viewed his completed work. The bike hadn't called for a trunk, but it did now. The lawyer was dead and so was the rest of his crew. The money the lawyer paid was in a dead bank account in a dead bank a few blocks away, but it would never do him any good, those vaults would never open again.

Tomorrow he would stock the bike with food and water. He was going to leave San Francisco for good. He intended to check and see if his sister was still alive in Stockton, and the bike was his best bet at making it there what with the clogged free ways.

He closed the shop door and walked down the silent street in the commercial section of San Francisco. He heard a gun shot, in the distance, and wondered who had died at the end of a bullet this time.

Gun shot wounds weren't something new to him. He had dealt with it most of his life, and he was getting sick of it.

Now he was free of the club and free of the bikers demanding free work and parts for their bikes. He had joined a club thinking it would be good for business. That was a big mistake as it turned out the, club was just a front for drugs and gun running. The bikers had almost bled him dry.

He walked back to the hotel and climbed the first flight of stairs to his commandeered hotel room _, funny how things have turned out;_ he thought, _before all this only the rich could afford to stay here, now the rich are dead and anybody can stay here._

The next morning he opened the shop doors, cranked up the chopper and drove it out of the shop, leaving the shop doors open to whoever wanted anything out of it.

The lawyer had ordered a full blown S&S engine that had cost him over fifteen thousand dollars. The engine gleamed like a diamond in the early morning sun. The usual fog had put off coming ashore this morning, a fact for which he was thankful.

He threaded his way across the Oakland Bridge, making his way between the stalled cars; he tried not to look at the bodies that were lying in repose every few feet that he made. The bridge was a solid traffic jam and he could barely thread the bike through the stalled vehicles.

He caught the Sacramento-free way and headed east. It was almost impossible to get down the freeway, and he knew without the bike he could not have made it at all.

Eight hours later he came to Sacramento. As he came to an overpass, he heard a shot ring out and at the same instant his right hand rear-view mirror exploded into shards.

He gunned the bike and he didn't hear another shot, "Probably some crap head just shooting to terrorize me." He said as he kicked the throttle.

He rolled on out of Sacramento toward Stockton, taking the old 99 interchange and in two hours, he rolled into Stockton.

He went straight to his sister's house and parked the bike in the drive way. He knocked on the door, but no one answered. He turned the knob, and the door opened freely.

He found the corpse of his sister lying across the bed, and he fled from the house.

_Where to now_? He wondered as he came to a straight stretch on the freeway south and gunned the engine. The bike leapt like it had been shot out of a cannon, the 1800 cc S&S engine shoved the bike to a hundred miles and hour, then a hundred and twenty, and he still had more throttle as he rocketed down the freeway.

He saw three bikes ahead and began to throttle down. He reached down and lifted the 45 out of the side holster as he began to pass the bikers.

One of the bikers pointed a gun at his head, and he shot him off the bike as he passed and gunned the bike full throttle, the wind screaming past his ears.

He kept the bike at a steady ninety miles an hour for the better part of two hours, barely missing an over turned truck in the freeway.

He slowed down and found an exit and followed that out into the country until he came to an orange orchard by the side of the road, he turned down one of the rows of Orange tree's until he was hidden from view of the road and cut the bike's engine.

He made a fire and opened a can of beef stew just as the sun went down. That night he dreamed of a ranch he came to, and there were people working the crops along a river bank.

The next morning he reheated the coffee from the night before, and sat thinking. _I probably should have turned north to Oregon, and I could still go back, but I feel like going south toward Bakersfield first, then I may cut across and hook the I-5 back north_.

He threw the coffee on the fire, and after he repacked the bike he left the orchard and turned back the way he had come. When he got to the freeway, he turned onto it heading south.

He had gone no more than a mile when he came upon a couple attempting to fix a flat and without a good reason he stopped along side the car to help.

"Need help?"

"Thank you." Said the man, "The wheel nuts seem rusted on this old car, guess it has been a while since they were off."

He took the lug wrench and attempted to turn the wheel nut. "I see the problem; someone turned the lug nuts too tight and striped them; I doubt if we can get them to hold when we put the spare on. Look...I can go back up the road ways; I saw a car sitting at a house; it may run."

"I hate to put you to all that trouble sir."

"It's ok, but one of you will have to go with me to drive the car, and the other one will have to take the risk of staying here alone; I hate it, but looks like the only way."

The man thought a minute and looked at his wife, "Its better you take your chances with this man than to stay here alone."

"I'm afraid for you Dan, I don't want to leave you alone."

Dwight walked to the bike and took the 45 pistol out of the side holster, "Here, put this under your shirt, and if you need to, shoot to kill. We'll come back as soon as possible."

"Can I trust you with my wife mister? She's all I have."

"Yes."

"Get on lady, we have to hurry; it's not safe to sit very long." She climbed on the bike behind him, and he turned the bike back north. They had gone about five miles, much further than he thought when they came to the car. There was a body in the driver's seat. He pulled the body to the side of the road and switched on the ignition; all the lights lit, "So far so good." He cranked the car; the engine cranked slowly, but after a few growls it fired off. He revved the engine a bit to warm it up, "Ok, get in and follow me; I aim to go fast so don't fall behind; we have to get back to your husband."

"Ok."

He was impressed with the woman as he accelerated the bike to 75. They soon pulled up to the car where the man was waiting.

Dwight walked back to the drivers' window, "Kill the car; we need to talk a minute."

The woman killed the engine and there was silence. "First... introductions, my name is Dwight Turner."

"We are Dan and Pam Ramsey, pleased to meet you Mr. Turner."

"Call me Dwight, may I ask why you were going south?"

"To tell the truth Dwight, I don't really know why; I just felt like going south is all."

'What do you think has happened?"

"My wife and I think we are in the tribulation spoken of in the Bible."

"I think you are right, but why do you think we are still alive?"

"I don't have a clue unless God has something for us that we need to do. I wish I had paid attention to the Bible way before now, but we have to deal with the here and now, not sit and drown in regret."

"Do you want to travel together for a spell?"

"That would be good; we would have a better chance of making it with more than just the two of us."

"Ok then, let's siphon enough gas out of your car to fill my bike. If I turn off somewhere, feel free to go on by yourselves. Let's roll. I'll not go faster than 50 and as slow as it takes if the road is blocked."

They motored several hours until Dwight saw a sign that said Porterville exit, and he stopped in the right lane and walked back to the car.

"I think I am going to head for the mountains about here. You can follow me or not."

"I think we'll follow; I don't feel like we should go any further south."

"Ok then."

Vacations End

Dan and Pam Ramsey had planned for two years on their month long vacation at their cabin just across the Washington state line in British Columbia Canada. They had decided on no cell phones or any other form of interruption. The only way in to their cabin was by plane. Dan had built the short runway years earlier that would accommodate their small Cessna. The plane was already packed for the return trip home to Sacramento.

Dan turned and looked at the cabin, and wished they could stay longer, but it had been hard enough to get enough practicing dentists to fill in that long. Three dentists had promised to run his office by taking turns.

Dan cranked the engine on the Cessna 172 and began his taxi down the short runway. The plane bounced along, the runway not exactly smooth.

"I hate this thing!" Pam yelled above the roar of the engine as the planed picked up speed.

Soon the plane smoothed out as the plane lifted them above the dense forest below. Pam felt bad, as usual, for complaining about her husbands beloved plane.

"Do you remember when you got the idea to mount extra tanks and fly us to Hawaii?"

"Probably would have made it too." He grinned at her as he pushed the choke in on the small aircraft.

"I'll be glad to get home. I'm going to take a nap." She laid the seat back as far as she could against all their stuff, laid her pillow against the side of the plane, and was soon asleep.

Dan put the plane on auto pilot and relaxed. He thought of all the times he had dragged her from one place to another in the plane. He also knew she had never cared for flying like he did, yet she loved him enough to go along with it. He looked at her relaxed face and he regretted having forced her to do something she didn't really want to do.

_I'm damn selfish is what it it, and I need to think of her more than I do._ The plane droned away the miles.

The sun was almost down when the city of Sacramento began to take shape. He looked over and saw that Pam was asleep again, and he reach over to gently wake her.

"Are we home?"

"About five minutes until we land. There's some coffee left in the thermos."

"Yekk! I want some orange juice. My mouth tastes awful."

Dan began to circle the plane for the end of his runway. He reached for the Radio. "Hello tower, this is Cessna 1462 requesting land on runway 34."

All that came back was static. "Hello Sacramento tower, this is Cessna 1462 requesting permission to land on 34."

He waited a full minute thinking the tower people might be extra busy, and then called again with no answer.

"Why aren't they answering Dan?"

"I don't know, maybe the radio has lost transmit or something."Well, we have to land, because we are almost out of gas." He began to loose altitude as he nosed the plane toward the end of runway 34.

The plane bounced a little as a crosswind tried to pull his plane toward the edge of the runway. He saw why as soon as he caught sight of a wind sock. The tower usually would give him the wind direction and he felt a little eerie. The tower people had never failed to answer in all his time flying. He pulled the plane back toward the center of the runway, as the plane slowed. He taxied the plane slowly as he threaded his way to his hanger that belonged to the pilots association.

"Hold your foot on the brake, the wind is up a little." He exited the plane and ran to the hanger door. He used his remote, but the door didn't move. He went through the small door into the silent hanger, and walked to the big door to use the chain to pull the hanger door open. Again that eerie feeling tugged at his insides as he raised the door by hand.

He walked out to the idling plane and revved the engine a little to guide the plane through the hanger door where he cut the engine, he got out and pushed the plane to its resting place inside the hanger.

"I was about ready to pee my pants, I'm going to use the toilet in the front office."

"Ok Honey, I'll get the stuff to the car."

Their car was parked in the private parking lot off to the side of the hanger, and he headed for the car with a load of bags. As he began to make his second trip he heard a blood curdling shriek from the inside of the hanger. He ran through the hanger door to meet Pam running toward him.

"What the worlds the matter?"

"The...the...there's a dead man in there, I think it's Alvin the mechanic!"

"Stay here, I'll go see."

"Don't go in there Dan!"

"I have too... just stay here."

He walked through the the back door of the office and found the man in blue coverall's lying in the middle of the floor. It looked like the man had been dead for at least a week. His face was laying in vomit. He turned away quickly and the smell of death permeated the room. He walked behind the desk and picked up the phone, but only got silence on the phone.

Pam had come to stand at the edge of the door, "He's dead isn't he?"

"Yes, run out to the car and get the cell phone please Pam."

"Ok."

He heard her feet slapping the concrete as she ran. In a few short minutes she was back and handed him the cell which had been stored on the car battery. He flipped the cell phone open, and turned it on. "Huh." I can't get a signal."

"Is the battery dead?"

"No, its showing full."

"I'm scared Dan, you know that office has never been neglected even for one day."

"It didn't dawn on me until now, but I didn't see any movement from the air either. Something is very wrong. Where the hell is everybody?"

"Lets just go home, I want to call Mom."

"Ok, go start the car while I lock the hanger doors."

In a few minutes Dan pulled the car out of the parking lot and proceeded toward their home which was just a mile away on 56th street. They only had to get the one freeway entrance ramp and then get off at the next ramp and follow that street a short distance to their house. It was coming on dark when they climbed the entrance ramp to the freeway, and not a car was moving, no headlights, nothing, and Dan had the eerie feeling they had been lifted off planet earth, and sat down on a strange world. He could tell that Pam felt it too as she sat looking around with her hand over her mouth, and he saw stark fear in her eyes.

He stepped on the gas, quickly came to the exit ramp and turned north on the typical American suburbia street that led to their home. He slowed down and saw trash littering the once clean street. He saw the broken windows in what was considered homes of well to do people. He heard two gun shots that sounded like it was just a street over, and it caused him to swerve the car a little. He stepped on the gas, and quickly came to their driveway.

He pulled into the driveway, and shut off the ignition. The silence was overwhelming. All they heard was a night bird somewhere in the trees that lined the street. Not a light shown in any house, and the street was dark as there were no street lights on. Their house looked untouched. Pam clung to him as he keyed the lock.

He flicked the light switch, but no light. That was when his military training kicked in. He remembered the war zones, and Dan Ramsey began to get his rear wired tight.

"Dan, I'm really scared."

"Lets not go panicking honey, it won't do us good. I'll get the flashlight out of the trunk."

He opened the door. The room smelled a little musty so he left the door open. "Sit down while I check the house." He checked the fridge and the freezer, they both stank of spoiled food. He checked the cupboards and they were neatly stacked with canned goods.

The house looked as if it was untouched since they left.

He returned to the living room, and saw that Pam had closed the front door. "I can live with musty, but not with the door open." He shined the light on her face, and saw that her eyes were tear streaked.

"Yeah, did you lock it?"

"Does a Bear poop in the woods?"

"That's my brave girl."

"If I wasn't with you, I'd be running down the street shrieking my head off."

Dan quickly found the candles and lit four of them, and with light they both began to feel better. He pulled the curtains closed on the front window so the light could not be seen from the street. He returned to the car, and found his .45 caliber service pistol and threaded the loop of the holster through his belt. He then carted the baggage into the front room.

He dug out the little wilderness camp stove and sat it on the table with two candles. He opened a couple cans of beef stew, and poured it into a pan, then sat it on the little stove.

"I don't think I can eat Dan."

"You have to eat. I don't think we can stay here Pam. I heard a gunshot a couple blocks over. Something has happened to the authorities here, and Sacramento was already getting to be a dangerous town. We need to get out into the country."

"Where would we go?"

"South on the 99 freeway if we can."

"Why south?"

"I don't know, I just feel like we should go is all. Did the phone work?"

"No."

After they ate Pam said, "I'm not going to bed, I'm going to lay down on the couch."

"Ok, I'm going to make good use of my Lazyboy recliner."

About an hour later he heard his wife begin to snore, even though she swore up and down she never snored. Some time during the night he slept, and when he awoke light was showing around the curtains. Pam awakened a short time later, and with water from the cartons of bottle water, she cleaned up as best she could.

"We'll pack the car with extra cloths. canned goods, water, sleeping bags and the camp stoves. You pack our toiletries and don't forget toilet paper."

"Oak leaves won't do?"

"I can tell you are feeling better. We'll leave as soon as we get the car loaded. We can always come back here, but I want to get on out into the country to see what that looks like."

An hour later they pulled out of their driveway. On the way to the freeway they passed a car with a dead body they hadn't seen the night before. Pam's eyes were large as she took in the condition of the neglected streets and houses.

Dan sped the car up as they entered the empty I-5 freeway. They saw nothing but an occasional car on the side of the road. When they turned off onto the 99 freeway south, the stalled cars became more frequent. After they were on the 99 a while they came upon and overturned semi-truck. They were able to skirt around the truck, nearly scrubbing a chain link fence.

Near the little town of Galt Dan brought the car to a screeching halt beside one of the stalled cars that had a body behind the wheel.

"What did you stop for? You nearly ran me through the windshield!"

"I want a closer look at the man in that car."

He opened the car door and walked the few feet to the other car, but the car was locked. he opened the trunk of their car and found the hammer he had stored. _A hammer for every nail, as the saying goes. No, theres no saying like that...maybe tool for every job? Quit it, don't lose it now._

He drew back and smashed the car window, and drawing on his medical gloves began to examine the mans face. There were signs of a little bleeding from the eyes, but the most telling sign was the blotchy bruising in a swelled neck and face. He sucked in a deep breathe and staggered backwards, because the stench had become to much to handle. The man had simply died in his own blood and vomit before what ever he had killed him.

He ripped the gloves off, and cranked the car, "I think some kind of plague has killed the people."

"Will we get it?"

"Maybe...probably...I just don't know. Its obvious that not everybody has died, at least yet, because whoever shot a gun last night was not dead."

"Dan, remember reading something like this in the Revelations, do you think it could be something like that?"

"Could be...yeah, I think it might be. We need to find people who are not shooting at us. Maybe if we do things might become more clear. We were gone for a month, and this thing could have started the day we left for all we know."

When they came to Stockton they had to slow to skirt an over turned pickup. As they circled the right side of the truck, a shot rang out, and a bullet shattered the glass in the back window of the car.

"Holy crap!" Dan yelled as he floored the gas pedal. He thought he heard another shot, but no more bullets hit the car.

"It's not safe on this road Dan!" Pam hit him on the shoulder, she was crying.

"Calm down, he didn't hit us."

"Didn't hit us? Is that all?"

"Honey, I don't think there is a safe place any more."

He kept his speed at between seventy and eighty miles an hour except when it was too dangerous to go that fast. He was thinking about stopping to eat when he heard the back tire explode, and the car began to fishtail. He got the car stopped.

"Darn it. That was an almost new tire, we must have hit something sharp. You just sit here, and I'll dig the spare out."

He pulled the bags out of the trunk, and found the doenut tire under the floor mat' the little jack was bolted to the top of the tire. He found the tire wrench under the tire. Finding the notch under the side of the car he began turning the handle of the jack. He stopped to listen, but heard only the leaves rustling in a nearby tree. He cursed under his breath as he remembered to start loosening the lug nuts first before he raised the car.

He tried to turn the first lug nut, but it was turning hard, in five minutes he was sweating profusely. "If it takes me this long to turn one lug nut, we'll be here all day."

Pam leaned her head out the window, "Is it stuck? Do you want me to help?"

"No, I'll get it eventually."

"Dan the hero."

He ignored the remark and kept turning the lug nut but not without great effort. He cursed the car manufacturer, their wives and their dogs. He was so busy working at it that he didn't hear the speeding motorcycle until it was almost upon them. He was on his knee's as he felt for his side arm. The man on the shiny new motorcycle stopped about ten feet away.

Absence Of Malice

Dwight cranked the chopper, and they took the exit toward Porterville. When they came to the Chevron station, it was deserted. They found the hand pump just laying in one of the lanes. He tried pumping gas and was able to fill the bike and the car.

"Thoughtful of someone, I'm surprised there was any fuel left in the tanks." Dwight stood by the couple's car, "Lets roll on to Porterville, go around that and on toward Springville."

"Do you know the area?"

"I was up here once. My wife and I went up above Springville camping in the red woods."

"Ok Dwight, we're with you, let's do it." Dwight looked at Dan Ramsey, and was glad he had stopped to help them.

When they arrived in Porterville Dwight saw a pickup parked at the lumber company, and there was a couple of people loading lumber. He decided to try approaching them as the bad ones, he'd seen weren't interested in lumber.

He stopped the bike in front of the truck, and a voice came from the back of a pile of lumber, "I have a rifle trained on you mister." The other two men stopped working and came over.

"We're not looking for trouble," said Dwight, "We're looking for the decent folks; I'm Dwight Turner, and this is Dan and Pam Ramsey in the car. Do you have any news?"

"I'm Cole Marston." The man reached out his hand," Where did you come from?"

"I had a bike shop in San Francisco. You can ask Dan where they hail from; we hooked up a few miles back down the road. The only others I've seen shot at me. I shot back."

"Very nice bike, wish I had one of those to just trundle around on." Marston grinned.

"Why did you come this way, if I might ask?"

"Mister, we are right in the middle of the tribulation period; we have to hole up somewhere, and the mountains seem as good a place as any, but to tell you the truth I don't know why I even came south."

Marston gave his partner a knowing look.

"I'm going to stick my neck out and tell you something I may regret; we are building a strong hold just east of here. What did your partners there in the car do before this all started?"

"We had a dental practice in Sacramento and Dwight there is a mechanic" Dan answered.

"You don't say? We have our load, if you want to follow us back to the ranch, I can't guarantee you they will take you in, but we can try. You both have skills we need."

"Lead the way then."

Virgil Grissom rode his horse down through the draw, and remembered all the words that John had spoken to him that day, a year ago. John had died a week later of a massive heart attack. Nobody but Nell knew of his condition.

Virgil took out the binoculars and carefully scanned the hills around him, and spotted the four wheel drive pickup climbing up the back side of a hill. There were four of them riding the pick-up bed armed to the teeth with automatic rifles. He sighed and got on the radio to the other outposts, "Dwight, get the others ready."

He patted the shoulder of the mare he was riding.

"Might as well get to it, girl; we got it to do." He turned the mare wearily down the gully. He prepared himself for battle he knew was coming. He knew he had been chosen to lead this group home, or die trying, and he knew if he died, someone else would step in and lead them home.

The beast slithers yonder

Virgil sat his saddle on a hill a mile from the ranch house and scanned the horizon, seeing

no one, and he sat thinking as the horse went at the wild flowers that grew in abundance.

The Ranch had been attacked six times in the last month with the loss of two good men, and one of the children had been hit in crossfire. The doc had saved the Childs life, but she would remain crippled as they had not had the medical facilities it took to do much for the leg that had been shattered by a large caliber bullet.

He felt fortunate that he had Doc plus Pam and Dan Ramsey as medical people.

The funerals were the hardest as most of the time it left grieving wives, children and always friends to take the loss, pick up and go on.

Sometimes the weekly prayer meetings helped, sometimes it didn't help all that much, and sometimes he wondered their purpose for further existence, at other times he just began again, taking one step at a time, putting one foot in front of the other.

After some time thinking back over the time since they had first arrived there, he made up his mind.

"Zack, this is Virgil, do you hear me?"

He heard Zack's portable radio crackle to life "Go ahead; this is Zack."

"Zack, can you get every one of the men together at the big house for a meeting at four o'clock? Everybody but Jody and Donaldson, put them on the gate."

"Sure boss, what's up?"

"Tell you at the meeting, and quit calling me boss, I've told you a dozen times. Where is Dwight right now?"

"He's patrolling the ranch on the Porterville side, just like you told him."

"Dwight is a good man."

"Sure is boss, see you at four. Out."

He grinned. He knew Zack wouldn't give an inch, and he wasn't about to tackle the big man to find out, anyhow he knew if he ever did he would have Rosie to deal with, and she was one tough gal. Not that he would ever fight with either one of the couple he had come to love and respect so much.

There were forty two men living at the ranch now, nearly a hundred people all together including the women and children. One or two of the men tended to be a little lazy, but all of them were baptized under fire to even get to the ranch, and none of them were afraid.

As he rode his horse up to the ranch house, his eyes took in the cabins that had been quickly thrown together. They were built fast and really weren't meant for cold weather, yet he had not heard a complaint, if they complained, it was done in private.

He walked out on the long porch where groups of the men were gathered together talking in low voices. As soon as he closed the door the men went silent. They knew something was up as Virgil was not in the habit of leaving so much of the ranch exposed for any length of time.

"Fellows, up until now, we've just been on the defensive, and they keep picking us off. It's time we did something about it. I am going to assign six men to range further out. I don't like having to do that, but if a large group comes at us, they can wipe us off the face of the earth."

"We have enough horses. Zack will take two men and an extra horse in case one goes down, and I'm going to do the same. Zack will patrol toward Porterville and Bakersfield, and I will patrol toward Lake Isabella. For one thing, I want to see what's happening out there. I also want to see who, if anyone, is in Walker Basin. Walker Basin is an ideal strong hold position, and there might be a stronghold of Christians there."

Dan Goldman held up his hand, "Yes Dan?"

"There might be some bad people there too, don't ya think?"

"Of course, but we risk our lives every day just getting up in the morning...I think it might be worth the risk to find out. There may not be anything at all there, but if we don't range further out the risk is even greater."

Another man held up his hand, "Just speak up Donaldson, this ain't school man!"

"What if we have to kill people?"

"We have two choices...roll over and let them kill us, or fight, there is just no in-between measures here...is there?"

"Yeah, but is it wrong to fight? I'm not afraid of the fighting; it's just that I have doubts."

"Don't we all have doubts? Can you sit and watch while murders, rapist and thieves come in and kill your wife and children or your friends and neighbors?"

"I don't reckon I can do that, it just ain't in me to do that, it...it's just that I have these feelings."

"I know, and I reckon that goes for every one of us, but if we go into a fight with doubt, someone is going to die."

The rest of the men were shaking their heads in the affirmative to what he said as he looked around at the grave faces, yet faces that were resolute to whatever came their way.

"Russell, you will run the ranch operations from now on and Dave Johnson, you will take charge of the guards, pick one or two men to help with whatever the women folk need."

"Let's get some rest boys; we are leaving in the morning at nine. Each of us will pack enough food for a week. Zack, take one shot gun and rifles for each and make sure you take enough ammo, we'll do the same."

After the meeting broke up, he and Zack entered the house and were met by Rosie and Jan at the door, the both of them looking worried.

"Now don't you girls start in on us." Virgil said as he sat down heavily in one of the easy chairs. Nell came in bringing coffee.

"Virgil, I don't like the idea of you going so far away from the ranch." Jan looked sick with worry.

"I know, but we have to do this, I don't see as we have any choice, and we need to get some news about what is happening out there."

"Can't Rosie and I go with you?"

"You know you can't, you have to watch the kids." Rosie and Zack had adopted the boy and Jan, and Virgil had adopted the girls they had picked up along the way to the ranch.

Rosie was her usual stoical self; she looked worried, but said nothing. Nell suggested they say a prayer before bed so the five of them prayed earnestly for their safe return home.

The next morning they ate quickly then began to pack what they would need for a week while Curt Doyle saddled the horses and brought them up from the barn.

Many of the people were there to wish them well, and say prayers for them, and then the people looked on as they rode away down the road.

When they got to the Porterville road, Zack turned right toward Porterville. Virgil, and his two partners went left toward the Sierra Nevada's, they would turn southeast on the road that led past Jack Flats and on up to the Greenhorn summit.

They stopped at the Kilgore ranch which was owned by David Kilgore and one of his four sons who had not been taken by the plague.

They rode up the drive and tied the horses to trees in the front yard. Kilgore met them at the door with a double barreled shot gun.

"Oh, it's you Grissom, the next time you come up it might pay to give a shout."

"Hi Dave, what if you are no longer in control of this ranch, and I shout out, then what?"

"You have a point boy, but I don't aim to lose control."

Virgil knew Kilgore was a stubborn and fiercely independent man. He had tried to talk him out of the two of them living out there all by themselves, and he figured it was only a matter of time before they were both killed and the cattle taken.

"I'll give you boys one cup of coffee each. We are down to the last of it just now, and where are you headed?"

"Thanks but we can share some of ours with you...do you have any tobacco? Ben there still hasn't overcome the habit."

"Yeah, we have some loose tobacco, but you fellows all better break the habit because there sure ain't none in the stores no more...or much else for that matter. Raiders from outside have been coming through here regularly."

"How have you kept from getting shot? We've been attacked at least six times in a month and a half.

"We take off back through the trees, there's a little cave about two hundred yards in back of the house, these men who come through here are killers, and we lose a little food to them."

"Some day they are going to take you by surprise Dave. You know you're welcome to come live with us."

"I appreciate that Virgil, but we'll be staying on here...Cullen, get that loose tobacco for Ben. Come on in boys and make yourself to home."

"We can't stay Dave. We have to be moving along and get as far as we can before we make camp."

"You still haven't told me where you boys are riding horse to."

"We are on a scouting trip to Lake Isabella and maybe on to Walker Basin; we want to try to find out where these raiders are holed up, and also try to get some news of what is happening in the outside world."

"Well, we would go with you, but we have to make ready for winter; it gets cold early up this high."

"Its ok, we think we will be better off with a small scouting party anyways."

"Ok, mount up boys and let's get as far as we can today."

Cullen came out of the house and handed the tobacco up to Ben, "There is some papers in there for some roll your owns."

"Thanks Cullen, I appreciate it, that'll stave off the wolf for a few more days anyhow. If I run out of tobacco and get grumpy these cusses might shoot me."

They bid farewell to the Kilgore's and rode on.

"Ok boys, keep your eyes peeled for anything that moves, we don't want to run into an ambush."

They rode on the shoulder of the paved road to keep the noise of the horse's hoofs down, and the dirt shoulder was also easier on the horses steel shoes.

They passed a few houses, but there was no sign of life in any of them. Once they got passed Jack Flats they were on a gravel road. The road was washed out in places, and Virgil was glad they hadn't brought any of the bikes.

Virgil stopped to open a gate into a pasture. On the other side was a good clump of trees. They could camp in the trees, and the smoke from the camp fire would be filtered through the leaves of the trees. He was hoping that would give some cover from any passers by even though they could smell the smoke from a camp fire.

They tied the horses in the trees, then put nose bags on them and fed them oats. Afterward, they gave the horses water with the same nose bags.

The next day by noon they were half way up the Greenhorn summit, and by dark, they were on the other side.

They camped in an empty house that sat a way back in the trees off the road and started on at nine the next morning, giving the horses a good rest.

There were many houses on the side of the paved road, but they saw no signs of life at all. Virgil figured any survivors were in the town of Lake Isabella.

They stopped on a hill overlooking the town of Lake Isabella and tied the horses in some trees, then went on a way on foot. Virgil began sweeping the town with the powerful binoculars he had obtained from the sheriff's station in Porterville.

As he slowly moved the binoculars, suddenly his muscles tightened at the sight he was looking at.

"What do you see Virgil?" Ben asked, he had stopped rolling his smoke when he saw Virgil stiffen up.

"I don't know... there are some soldiers down there, but the markings are like nothing else I have ever seen." The marking he was looking at was a red lighting bolt with a white circle over it. The trucks had the same markings, but nothing that would indicate they were U.S. Army trucks, " Here Ben, take a look." Ben had served in the Army for six years.

Ben looked carefully at the markings on the trucks and the soldiers uniform, "These are not U.S. markings on the trucks or the uniforms, they look European or maybe middle East even, but they are sure not U.S...I'd stake my life on it.

"We need to go around to the north and pick up the Walker Basin road...if there's anyone up there, maybe they will know what's going on. Let's get back about a mile, then cross the north fork of the Kern River above the town. Let's go."

It took them two and a half hours to reach the North fork of the Kern and make the crossing because it was a slow go to avoid the town. They had to negotiate thick brush to get there.

They watered the horses and continued on until they came to the Walker Basin road north of Lake Isabella.

It was almost dark when they came in sight of the Walker ranch house. A man appeared out of the trees, "Hold up there, there are weapons trained on you, so don't bother with yours."

"We mean you no harm. We are from the Porterville area. We wanted to find out if anybody was up here." We thought we might get some news is all." Virgil said.

"Just stay right there until I get back, what is your name?"

"My name is Virgil Grissom."

"Ok, I'll be back in a few minutes, just don't make any sudden moves and don't go milling around. He turned to the trees, "Danny, if they try anything kill them all where they stand."

Virgil figured the man was going to the main house that lay up the road a piece; the main house sat on the side of the road. He could see an older bunk house and some newer buildings that had been built in the pasture; the new fence and post were obvious.

"Looks pretty much like they've done what we have." He whispered to Dave.

"I wouldn't bet too much on it; we need to be ready to fight if we have to."

"I have a feeling we won't have to, if they were predators, they would have killed us for the horses and supplies."

Soon they saw the man coming out of the house and in ten minutes he came up to them.

"I'd shake your hand mister, but we are the guards, and we just can't afford to get close to you."

"I understand... no problem with that here."

"Well, leave your weapons in that wooden box over there, then go on up. Better not be any hidden weapons on you. You will be searched and if they find any on you bigger than a buck knife, they'll shoot you dead."

"Ok boys, let's shuck our weapons...all of them."

As they rode slowly up to the house Willard spoke, "I don't like putting ourselves at the mercy of anybody."

"I know...I don't either, but that's the only way we are going to get close enough to any strong hold to obtain anything these days Willard, so don't get antsy; I think we'll be ok."

They tied the horses to the fence and walked up to the porch. When they got to the long porch, a man came out. He had a pistol in a holster on his belt."

"Keep your hands where I can see them while I search you."

When he finished searching them, he motioned them to the door, "Open it." The man said.

They opened the door which led to a comfortable sitting room. There were four men sitting in easy chairs with drinks in their hands.

A gray-haired man who looked to be about seventy years old greeted them, "Come in and sit." He indicated the couch, "What can we do for you?"

"My name is Virgil Grissom; this is Ben Payne, and the other is Willard Duke. We just want news of what's happening. We have a place on the other side of the Greenhorn."

"We hope you understand if we can't give you more than that about our exact location, we have people we are responsible for."

"We understand, but you can understand if we are very suspicious of anyone coming up this road from Lake Isabella."

"Because of certain markings?"

"That might be it, yes."

"Do you have anything to do with those markings?"

The mans eyes were very wary now; he glanced over at the other men, and Virgil knew it was time to fish or cut bait before these men got too nervous.

"I'm going to be very up front sir; we think we are in the tribulation. We have several families trying to survive. Bad men have attacked us time and time again. Men who come to kill without warning or without mercy. We don't want to harm anybody; we believe in the bible, and we are Christians."

The man looked sharply around the room, "Ok, what do you want from us?"

"As I said, we just want news of what's happening out there. We've reached a point that information is paramount to our survival."

"It sounds like you are the same as us. Ok, here is what we know. Those soldiers down there in Lake Isabella are Europeans, and they're not friendly. They are rounding up people and embedding an electronic chip in them. If they don't take the chip, they kill them. They were in Los Angeles first, now they have an outpost in Bakersfield."

"We think it is the mark of the beast the bible speaks of. The best we know is that they never get out of the main squad, which is about a hundred strong. They are well-equipped and, they all carry assault rifles. They have mortars and machine guns. They are well supplied and well trained soldiers.

"They have their own rations, but they take by force what they find to live on. After they implant the chip...by force if they have too, they give people a book of rules; we were able to obtain some of the books. We'll let you have one to take back with you."

"Are you men hungry?"

"We brought our own food, thanks. Are there more coming from over seas do you think?"

"We think so, the title of the book we are going to give you is 'Plenty for all', but we think by the time they are through, the only way you will get any of that plenty, be it buy or barter, is to get that chip."

"Have any of your people gotten the chip?"

"No, we are all Christians here; we don't want...and are not going to accept...anything these people have."

"You're fairly exposed here you know."

"If they come, we will just fade back into these hills."

Virgil stood up and held out his hand, "We thank you sir; we'll go and camp back down the road a mile or two, so as to not bring you any trouble from us."

"None sense; we'll feed you and bed you down here for the night; I'll have one of the men bring up your weapons. You all can sleep on the rug right here; we'd give you beds if we could. You can wash up in the bathroom; it's down the hall and to your left. We have plenty of left over for you to eat if you don't mind them. Your horses have already been grained and watered."

"Not at all and thank you again."

They brought their gear and sleeping bags. The other men bade them good night, and they tossed their sleeping bags on the floor.

The next morning they saddled the horses early. The man didn't return, but a woman gave them each two sandwiches and an apple for breakfast.

"Thank you for the food ma'am." Virgil said as they took the sandwiches.

"You're welcome sir; you understand that the men are just taking precautions by not showing up to see you off."

"We understand perfectly, God bless you and yours."

"God bless you all, and God speed you home."

They collected their weapons, which were lying just outside the door on the porch, then mounted and rode the way they came.

A guard came out on the road when they reached the place they had been stopped the day before, and held up his hand.

"Mister, the boss told me to tell you to turn east when you get to the 178 highway, go east about a mile, there is an old stop sign just off the road. Then go west on the old log road that will lead you across the Kern and that will take you back to the Greenhorn summit. He says to tell you it will be safer and easier traveling for you and your horses."

"Thank you very much and tell your boss, we appreciate everything you have done for us."

The man stood in the middle of the road looking after them, he waved once and walked back into the trees.

When they got back to the place indicated they found the old stop sign, it was rusted and full of bullet holes. They found the old log road; it was covered with trees, and the track was dim, but they were able to follow it back to the Kern and on up to Greenhorn summit.

Virgil rode as fast as he could down the mountain to the valley below, then made a right down the dirt road that would take them past Jack Flats and Kilgore's Ranch.

When they got to the ranch, they saw no sign of the Kilgore's.

Virgil tied his horse and walked to the door and knocked, but no one came to the door.

Virgil got a bad feeling in his gut. He had no reason to have it; the Kilgore's could be anywhere, yet he had an oppressive feeling in his gut just the same.

He knocked again and waited...still no sound. He started to turn the knob on the front door and door gave under the weight of his hand.

He walked through the darkened living room calling Dave's name, then walked on into the kitchen. Both Dave Kilgore and his son were lying on the floor in a pool of dried blood.

He walked over and felt for a pulse, but found none.

"Aw Dave, I wish you had come with us." He whispered in the quiet room. Death had now taken the whole Kilgore family, just as it had so many families.

He walked back outside to porch, "Willard...find a shovel, and Ben you can help me carry them out, both the Kilgore's are dead."

"What happened Virgil?" Ben asked.

"Both of them have been shot; it looks like they were sitting at table having coffee, and they never saw it coming. Let's get them buried and get on home as quick as we can. Those murderers are probably still in the area."

Ben help Virgil pull the two bodies out of the back door where Willard was already digging a hole in the back yard.

Virgil found another shovel and went to work on the other grave, "Just go down about three feet; we don't have time to go deeper."

Ben relieved Willard, who was already painting. After a few minutes, he handed the shovel back to Willard, "I gotta quit smoking...I ain't worth hoot for stamina."

"Well don't worry Ben. The cigarette makers aren't making any, and it won't be long until time takes care of it for you." Virgil replied as he dug.

Soon Ben and Willard relieved Virgil, and they quickly finished up the last hole. They each grabbed a body and lowered it into the holes.

Virgil began tossing dirt over the grave when Ben spoke up, "Ain't we going to say something over them boss?"

"No, just get the dirt over them and let's get a move on, we've done all we can here. We probably should have just left them lay, but I just hated too, but boys, its getting to where it makes no sense at all to bury the dead."

They quickly finished, threw the shovels down by the grave and remounted the horses. Virgil led out kicking his horse into a trot.

"Boss, we can't go to fast, or we'll wear the horses down before we reach the ranch." Ben said as he rode along side Virgil.

"I know it Ben, but I want to make it as far as we can before we have to stop again. We should have been home yesterday, and they might be worried, and I don't want them to split up the ranch folk to come looking for us."

Sixteen hours later they pulled the tired and jaded horses up to the ranch gate where Jody met them and opened it for them.

"It looks like you boys have been riding hard." Jody said as they walked the horses through the gate.

"Yeah Jody, radio up to the ranch and have someone get the horses water and give them plenty of grain, then I want a meeting at the big house with everyone attending but the guards."

"The women too?"

"Everybody but the kids."

"Ok Virgil, I'll get on it. Glad you three are safe."

"Did Zack and his crew get back yet?"

"Yeah, they got back yesterday, but he didn't say what they found, said he only wanted to tell it once and would wait for you."

"Yeah, Zack ain't much for words. Get a couple of the other men to stand guard when we have that meeting, I want you there Jody."

"Ok, I get you; I'll get a couple of the late comers."

" Jody, did I ever tell you how much I appreciate you?"

"No need Virgil, I've been a ranch hand all my life, and I just work for the brand."

"I just wanted to say it."

"Same here boss, and that goes for you boys too." He reached up to shake Virgil's hand.

Virgil kicked his horse to a trot toward the ranch buildings a half-mile away.

Virgil felt the tiredness really kick in as the ranch house came into view, but then he saw Jan walking out onto the porch, and some of the tiredness fled.

As the tired horse made the last 15 feet, he was out of the saddle with her in his arms. She kissed him almost fiercely, "Hello cowboy." She said as she leaned back and observed his now weathered face under a one-week beard.

"How ya doin' cowgirl? Been ketchin' any strays?" He said in his best John Wayne mimic.

"I only have one stray, and he just rode through the gate. How did the trip go?" She asked seriously.

"I've got news, but I'd rather tell it to everyone, I'm beat Honey, as are the boys. I've called a meeting for four this evening. Is Zack around? I need to talk to him first."

"He's in the house with Rosy."

When he walked in the door, he found Zack in an easy chair with his feet up, "Hello boss." Zack said as he came through the door.

"Hello yourself, I see you're making yourself comfortable." Virgil smiled.

"I get special privileges after riding that danged horse for days on end; I wasn't made to ride a horse. I didn't even know they made them any more until we got here."

"Why didn't you let the horse ride you, isn't riding him a little unfair?" Virgil laughed.

"I suppose you want to know what we found." Zack said, turning serious.

"That's the idea buddy, so what did you find down there?"

"Well for one thing, there's no food much left at all, and for another thing, there's an Army in Bakersfield, and they ain't friendly. We barely got out of there with our hides."

"Do you think they trailed you?"

"No, we circled around then got on some pavement and walked the horses easy like then struck off through the hills again and circled back home. I get the feeling though that they don't want to put too much effort into chasing just three men though, I'm thinking they are after more in numbers; I just don't know why."

"I think I know why; we made it to Walker basin, and there is about a hundred soldiers in the town of Lake Isabella. I've called a meeting at four; you'll tie it together when I report to all the folks if it's ok with you."

"Yeah, its ok Virgil, I don't think I'm going to be pleased with the information if you've already called a meeting boss."

"I don't guess it would do me any good to object to calling me that would it?"

"No, you still don't see yourself as a leader, but Gus saw it, John saw it, I saw it, and I'll do whatever you can cook up brother, and everybody else better, or they got me to deal with."

Jan and Nell walked in from the kitchen with heaping plates of plain, but good food. The two ate quietly as the women went back to the kitchen to do the endless chores.

Virgil finished eating first and mopped the last bit up with a piece of bread, then he sat back to sip his coffee; he was unaware that they were drinking the last of the coffee. Jan had found it and made sure all the men who went on patrol had some.

Virgil looked at his watch; it was three o'clock, he knew the men would be drifting in to the porch pretty soon, "You know Zack? We haven't thought of watch batteries, and I haven't seen a wind up watch in ten years.

Zack looked over his coffee cup at the man he had come to think as his own brother, "I got a feeling you won't be needing those watch batteries Virgil."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know Virgil, no reason, I just got a feeling that something is going to happen real soon, and I ain't one to put much stock in feelings either."

"Maybe so, we shouldn't make ourselves comfortable; that's for sure."

"I don't think there's much danger of that, we haven't been comfortable since the first days of the plague."

"Well, let's get finished up and get ready for the meeting."

Virgil went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up the best he could in the short time he had, then walked out onto the porch.

The stronghold was already gathered in small groups talking quietly. Jan, Nell and Rosy followed him out of the door.

He looked out on the faces who turned to look at him; he felt small and timid before this group, he had sworn to John to lead. He wished with all his heart that John was here. He caught himself and got rid of the wishful thinking, and that seemed to give him renewed energy and heart.

"Ok folk, quiet down, the man has something to say" Jody spoke from where he sat on end of the porch. He threw the stick down he had been whittling on and put his buck knife back into the pocket of his jeans.

The talking tapered off until everyone was quiet and Virgil spoke, " Folks, the first news I have is both Dave Kilgore and his son are dead; we think raiders; they were alive when we went to Lake Isabella, but we found them dead when we came back, and we buried them out back of their house."

"How did they die?" Someone asked.

"They were both shot while they were having their coffee."

"I've known Dave since we were in grade school." Mark Braden said with tears in his eyes.

"I tried to get them to come on down to the ranch, but he just wouldn't, they were both very brave men; they lived independent men, and they died independent men."

"I reckon that's the way he wanted it" Braden said.

We made it clear to Walker Basin, but we found there is about a hundred soldiers in the town of Lake Isabella. We scouted around the place until we came to the Walker Basin road, we found a stronghold about like this at the Walker ranch. The men told us that the soldiers were rounding people up and injecting a chip into them, promising them plenty if they took the chip. The soldiers are killing the ones that don't want to go along.

"Who are these soldiers Virgil?" Gus Molloy asked.

"We think they are a mix of maybe U.S and European troops, the men we talked to say some of them spoke perfect English and some broken English. They have some strange insignia, a lightning bolt through a white circle. Ben says they ain't U.S.

"The thing is folks; they may come here, and we have to know what we want to do, either fight or run back into these mountains."

"It'll be winter soon boss, and we won't be able to survive up there, I'm tellin' you that ain't an option."

"I don't think I know your name sir?"

"I'm Jess Renfro; I moved over while you were gone, my wife and I had a little place just outside of Springville; she died a week and a half ago, so I decided to throw in with you folk, that is if you don't mind, I know how to work."

"No I don't mind Jess, but do you know why we're here?"

"Yeah, we are right smack-dab in the tribulation."

"Do you know these mountains well Jess?"

"I've hunted them all my life, an I'm tellin' you; you can't survive in them. One or two men maybe could, but that would be doubtful."

"How many of you want to fight if the soldiers come? You heard the man; you either take the chip or fight. I have a book they are giving out; I'll pass it around for you to read...after you read it, I don't think you will want the chip, because you are swearing allegiance to a man who claims he has come to save the world. He's over there in Europe somewhere claiming he's the Christ.

"The men at Walker Basin say that when people take the chip, they then take all your food and dole it out as they see fit. You got to show the number in the chip to get your own food back. They think it's the mark of the beast, and I personally believe they are right."

"Personally, I'm going to fight beside anyone who wants to fight. I'll need an answer by tomorrow noon on who is staying and who is going. If you are not going to fight, I want you gone."

"I guess that's all. I do want to say I appreciate every one of you."

"Do you think they will come Virgil?" Someone called out.

"I just don't know; I think so though."

Virgil turned tiredly back into the house and sat down heavily in one of the easy chairs and closed his eyes.

August passed into September as the people worked tirelessly to get ready for the winter months. Virgil posted guards further out on the roads.

Zack and Dwight were on the guard post that overlooked the road toward Elkhorn Mountain. They glassed the road every thirty minutes or so, but the boredom had sunken in because there was hardly any traffic on that road at all. The horses munched peacefully where they had staked them out. They each spent four hours on and four off and Dwight was sleeping soundly.

Zack shook him awake, "Hey Dwight, what do you make of this?"

"Huh?" Dwight said, rubbing sleep from his eyes, he rose up to take the binoculars.

"Look at that spot that you can just see way up yonder by the Gordon place."

Dwight trained the binoculars on the place indicated. He stiffened up, "Looks like a jeep; I can't make out the markings, but the man is looking through binoculars further down the road; he has a whip antenna on the jeep, and it looks like he is talking into a mike."

"Can you see on past him?"

"No...wait a minute, I think I see the front of another vehicle, but it's hidden by the trees."

"I'd better get Virgil on the radio; they are probably not monitoring this frequency, but I'll use the code just in case."

As Dwight kept the glass on the jeep, Zack got on the walky talky. "Virgil this is Zack, do you copy?"

In about a minute a voice came back, "Zack, this is Jan; Virgil is out back; you want me to get him?"

"Yeah Jan, go get him, I see an Antelope."

In about three minutes Virgil was on the radio, "Zack, I understand you see an Antelope?"

"Yeah, do you want me to kill it; we need fresh meat."

"No, just keep an eye on him to see where he gets water. If you see the herd, then call me."

"Dwight, when they move, try to get a count on how many trucks there are, if that's the soldiers from Lake Isabella, we radio it in, then split for the ranch."

"He's moving forward Zack, and the truck behind him has moved into view; it's loaded with men."

Dwight watched as truck after truck came into view, "I count fifteen trucks all loaded with men Zack, and they're picking up speed."

"Ok, let's get outa here and head for the ranch, looks like Virgil was right."

"Virgil, this is Zack, there is a large herd heading for the river; we're breaking camp now."

"Ok Zack, I'll get supper on the table."

As Zack and Dwight were racing toward the ranch, Virgil had already sent word to the people around the ranch and had called all the guards in except those guarding the road toward Porterville.

He had no more than seen Zack's horse coming up the ranch road when one of the Guards called in, "I see more Antelope boss, there is five of them, and they are fat."

"Ok Pablo, better come on home, the tomatos are getting ripe." In two minutes, Pablo Garcia and Snake Johnson were running their horses toward the ranch.

The men had gathered at the porch, and they were armed, "Boys, get the women, every able body who can shoot. We'll meet them at the road and if shooting starts; we can fall back toward the main house. Put the children in the house behind the main house and leave one woman with them."

"Put the women behind the first Berm. If we fall back, then they fall back to the house and barns. Any questions? None?"

"Ok, don't nobody shoot unless you get my signal, or they shoot first; we don't want to fight a war that we don't have too, besides, we are out numbered three to one. Let's get down there and see what these idiots want."

The men had already dug fox holes and set up protection in the trees. When the Jeep stopped at the ranch road, Virgil stepped out to the front of the gate. He eyed the man in the passenger side of the Jeep. The man was about fifty years old, and of a medium build.

"Good day Sir." Said the man as he looked around him suspiciously. "Is there people at this ranch?"

"No...just me Virgil lied.

"I see...do you mind if we have a look?"

"What do you want to look for, I've done told you it's just me."

"If it proves there is anyone besides you, it will be counted against them as resistance you know."

"Resistance to whom, may I ask?"

"The Army of the New World Order."

"And just who is this New World Order?"

"Why the mighty king, haven't you heard? We'll give you a chip, and with that number that's on it you will have plenty."

"What if I already got plenty?"

"Why...uh...you share it with your neighbors of course!" The man stuttered.

"My neighbors meaning you and that Army you have there, isn't that right?"

"Well...we'd be part of that of course."

"What if I don't want to share it?"

The mans eyes narrowed, "Then you'll die."

"You'll be the first one dead mister."

The man's eyes went wide, and he started to raise his arm. Virgil shot him off the Jeep; the man hit the ground and grabbed his gurgling throat where the .357 Magnum bullet had torn out his throat.

Immediately, there was a cacophony of rifle and shot gun fire as the men rose from the foxhole's and opened up on the convoy.

The men from the convoy exited the trucks to the other side of them and began to open fire with automatic weapons.

The first one that fell was Jody, who got up and ran toward the trucks screaming and firing his rifle. "Darn fool!" Zack yelled.

The firing became heavier as the soldiers began spotting the people. "Fall back! Fall back!" Virgil called, and began to fall back toward the trees, firing his weapon as he went.

Zack calmly continued firing systematically as he spotted a body to aim at and his fire was deadly accurate.

"Fall back Zack, we gotta get them away from those trucks!"

"I'm coming, don't wait on me!"

The men began falling back firing as they went. Virgil saw four men go down in the hail of bullets that followed them.

When they got in back of the trees, they had clear ground all the way back to the first Berm. When the women saw the men coming they opened fire on the trees to provide cover for the men.

Virgil jumped behind the Berm and saw Jan a few feet away laying behind the Berm and firing her rifle.

He crawled over beside her and looked over the Berm. There were men beginning to come out of the trees toward them.

"Hold your fire until you have them in your sights and don't miss honey. Are you ok?"

"Yes Virgil. I'm not the same person that you left Beverly Hills with."

"I knew that, I mean are you physically ok?"

"With the exception of being scared to death? Yeah, I'm ok."

"Keep your head down, and start moving back toward the house with the rest of the women."

"I'm not moving until you move Virgil." She stuck her rifle over the top of the berm and fired twice hitting two of the soldiers.

"Damn woman, I sure ain't her boss." He muttered, and took another shot over the berm. The soldiers were meeting withering fire from the berms, and without their leader, they began to lose their will to fight. He saw a man wave his arm back toward the road, and the soldiers began moving back. The people behind the berms kept up a steady fire as they did, but pretty soon the firing fell off. "Hold your fire, hold your fire!" He called up, and down the line. He stood up, and cupped his ear, then he heard the trucks cranking up down by the road.

The people were carrying the wounded back toward the house that could not walk. He walked over to Zack, who had stood up also, "Zack, send a few men to follow those soldiers, and make sure they keep going. I think they've had enough, but just make sure."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to see how many we lost, and how many we might loose; I don't suppose doc can do a lot in the makeshift hospital of his."

"Yeah. Hey you Donaldson, grab some of the men, and come with me." Zack called, as he glanced along the line of stretchers as wounded men were being carried toward the house; some followed limping.

That evening he walked his horse down through the gully that led to the guard post half expecting Jody to call out, but he knew the call would not be coming. Jody was dead.

An Accounting

The next morning Virgil sent word for a meeting, and the men gathered in front of the porch in the cold November air.

Virgil held up his hand, and the talk quieted immediately, as if they were just waiting for him to speak, "Men, we lost eleven including Jody, and the new man. Eight more are shot up pretty bad, but doc says he thinks they'll live."

"That graveyard back there is getting mighty big Virgil." Ben spoke up.

"I know it Ben, but we can't loose heart, and give up; we knew this was coming." He saw a few of the men nodding their heads, "Boss, what we do with those dead soldiers out there? There are at least a two dozen of them."

"You, and Willard can take six men, and bury them in shallow graves today, meantime; I've got to send Zack, and one other man to try to sneak into Bakersfield. I don't think Isabella will send more troops, but they might send more from Bakersfield, and anyway, I need someone to get a closer look at what's going on down there. Let's get it done folks, we have funerals to do later today."

One other man spoke up, "They ain't enough of us left to fight, if they come at us again boss."

"Well, let's just see what we can learn in the near future, we may not have any choice."

The men disbanded to their various jobs, and Virgil walked back into the house, and sat tiredly down in one of the easy chairs. Jan came in from the kitchen, and eased into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her.

She whispered, "Have I held up my end Virgil?"

"Right now I'm holding up your end." He grinned at her.

"Silly, you know what I meant."

"You've done really great honey, more than I could have asked for. You're some wife, did you know that?"

She smiled, and kissed him on the cheek.

Zack came down the stairs, and sat down in a seat across from them, "What are you two love birds up to?"

"I've got to get back to being a house slave." Jan said as she got up, and headed to the kitchen.

"Zack, I hate to ask you, but I need you to take one man, and try to see what's going on in Bakersfield. Do you think it might be possible to get in there, and out without getting caught?"

"It might be possible for two of us, if we got there after dark; we could try to sneak in about sundown. What do you want to know?"

"Can you see if you can find someone to open up to you with information?"

"It would be risky; we would have to approach someone we don't know, but I'll do it."

"Just try to get information from the regular folk, but don't try to talk to the military."

"When do you want me to go?"

"Tomorrow, if that's possible."

"Ok, I'll try to get good night's sleep, but the boys are digging graves as we speak, and we have to bury our dead."

"Yeah, that. I told Ben to come get me when it's time."

"Well, it looks like its time boss; he's coming this way now."

Virgil arose with a sigh, "Ok, let's get it done."

About that time, Ben opened the door, "It's time Virgil."

The three walked out onto the front porch and down the steps, then around the house, and to the growing graveyard that sat about three hundred feet from the house. The bodies were laid out by mounds of dirt, and covered with sheets.

The people were already gathered around the eleven grave sites. They looked at Virgil as they walked up.

"Folks, I really am not experienced at this, and so far we haven't had a minister, so I want to do my best. Let's pray, Lord... we commend these our friends, and brothers to you, who paid the ultimate sacrifice. Amen. Let's bow our heads and have a few moments of silence."

As Virgil bowed his head, he could hear some of the people's silent weeping, and he felt worse than he had ever felt, knowing these people had grown close.

"Amen." He said, and turned towards the house. The same young men who had dug the graves began filling them in. He stuffed the tears back down, and he felt like an old man.

"Who do you want to take with you tomorrow Zack?"

"I'm going to take Willard. He don't talk much at all, and I don't feel like talking; I just want to get in there, and get out."

"It's a risky thing I'm asking of you brother."

"Probably wouldn't be worth doing, if there wasn't any risk, you reckon?"

The Crosses

The next morning Zack and Willard rode out for Bakersfield. They would ride past the Kilgore ranch, then hook the county road which would take them in the back way through Oildale, a suburb of Bakersfield. Willard was his usual stoical self as he rode, his face told nothing. They rode silently past the Kilgore ranch with only the sound of creaking saddle leather, and an occasional snort of a horse.

Eventually, they came to the county road that would take them down out of the foothills, and to Oildale. The road was paved, but they rode on the dirt shoulder, and sometimes off the road completely. They passed other lone houses, and ranches, but saw no signs of life in or around them. They came to a boggy creek, and turned down a fence line road to camp by the Creek. They followed the Creek down about six hundred yards before stopping. The Creek had lots of Willows growing along it, and the soft wood off dead Willows was easy to break up into fire wood, and they quickly had a small fire going.

Zack fished a can of Spam out of his saddle bags, along with a can of tomato's, and a loaf of home-made bread, that was to be their supper. "Spam... I like Spam, but most folks don't like it."

"I can eat most anything, long as it's not still movin'." Willard said. He had wolfed down his half of the can of tomatoes, and handing the other half to Zack, had begun on his Spam sandwich.

"Where did you come from before this Willard?"

"My wife, and I had a little cabin back up in the high country west of here; she died, and I just couldn't stay in that cabin, so I lit out, and found the ranch."

"So you are used to horses, and stuff?"

"Yeah...you gettin' used to riding yet?"

"Yeah, I would still prefer a Motorcycle though."

"Never had much use for'em myself...you done talkin'?" Willard laid his head back on his saddle, and pulled his hat down over his eyes.

Soon, there was nothing but the sound of crickets, and frogs along with Willard's gentle snore. Zack thought back to all that had taken place since they had left the L.A. basin behind. He walked a little way away from the camp, and sat with his rifle. He would wake Willard at midnight to stand guard until just before daylight.

Willard woke him just as the sky was growing pink in the east. The nights had grown cold, and he shivered as he pulled on his coat and his boots in the early-morning light.

"let's get up some breakfast, and take our time, we don't want to get into Oildale before along toward sundown."

Willard turned toward a dead Willow tree, and began to break dead wood, saying nothing.

They had a leisure breakfast, then fed the horses with the nose bags, and checked the horse's hoofs for any rocks embedded in them. By that time, the sun was getting high, and they rode on, stopping often to rest the horses. By the time they came to flat ground the sun was just going down.

The horse's clopped along by the side of the road, not making much sound, "What is that up there Zack?"

"Where?"

"Up there on that electric pole."

"Can't make it out from here."

The sound of the soft clop of the horse's hoofs, and the creak of saddle leather accompanied them as they drew closer to the object of their interest.

"My God..." Willard's voice trailed off.

Then Zack realized why. There was a new two by six nailed to the electric pole, and a body hung with its arms nailed to the two by six, and its feet nailed to the pole with large spikes. As they drew closer they could see that the man was stripped completely naked, and the blood had run into the ground below his feet. His facial features were completely erased.

"That man was beat to death." His skin hung in tatters off his face and chest.

"I ain't never seen anything this bad Zack, and I was in the war."

"I guess that's the new societal conceptions of morality."

"What?"

"Never mind, just something I read in college."

"Looks like another one up ahead."

"This is beginning to look like a place we don't want to be Willard."

They passed the gruesome spectacle, and rode on. The last one of five people was a woman, stripped completely as the others. Zack leaned to the off side of his horse, and vomited. When he straightened up in the saddle, he saw tears rolling down Willard's face.

They were entering the outskirts of Oildale before Willard spoke again, "Zack, if I get out of here alive...I'm not ever coming back for any reason."

"I'm with you on that hoss, let's just turn down one of these streets, see whether anybody will talk to us, get our information, and get the hell out of here."

"How about this one coming up Zack?"

"Good as any, if we find someone who will let us in, keep a sharp eye out for a radio, or walky talky. We don't want to stir up this den of wolves."

They turned right off the main drag, and down a dark street, until they came upon a house with the flicker of candle light in the living room.

Zack got down, and tied his horse to a porch rail, "Keep your hand on your gun Willard; I'm going to knock on the door." He walked up the concrete steps to the door, and knocked.

A man pulled back the curtain, and looked through the glass at him, "Hello; we are strangers in town!" Zack called out.

The man opened the door a crack, "What do you want?"

"We just came in out of the hills, and would like to come in and get warm."

"We don't have any food mister."

"We have our own food, could we maybe come in, and get warm?"

"Have you got horses out there?"

"Yes sir, we do."

"You better hide them in the back yard. I'll let you in the back way, tie your horses to the fence, and they can graze on the yard, ain't like its been mowed in a while."

They rode around the house, and through a chain-link fence gate, and then ground tied the horses, so they could graze in the high grass.

The man held the door open for them to come into the house. The man was about sixty five years old; his bearded face looked honest to Zack. A woman, sat in an old easy chair looking scared out of her wits.

"My wife is crippled, and can't get up; my name is Floyd Tennyson if you fellows care to introduce yourselves."

"I'm Zack Taylor, and this is Willard Mosley." Zack held out his hand, and Floyd shook it; Willard did the same, then turned toward the woman, and nodded, "Ma'am." He said tilting his hat.

The woman still looked frightened, but relaxed a little. Zack noticed Floyd's hand was rough, which meant he wasn't a bean counter. He and Willard took seats on the old, but comfortable couch.

"To get right to it Floyd, we would like to get information before we proceed into a town we know nothing about; we thought maybe the local people would be able to help us more than, shall we say... the government?"

"I understand. First of all, I don't think it would be a good idea to go across the bridge into Bakersfield."

"We saw the crosses outside town, what was that?"

"Those were some of the people that said they had turned Christian, and wouldn't take the chip. There's been a lot more I'm sorry to say. I had to let them inject their chip to feed my wife. They said they would give us food, but they haven't, we're starving anyway. Before you came up tonight we were going to end it."

"End it?"

"Yes, we have some pills, and we were going to take them, and go to bed."

"I'm sorry Floyd."

"I'm sorry too, but we have been married over 40 years; we'll go together."

Floyd's wife spoke up for the first time, "I didn't want Floyd to have to die on my account. It's not his fault, I am so crippled up."

"Rena, you know we have to finish this life together, now hush up."

"Isn't there soldiers in town?"

"Oh yes, but they are all liars; they promised they would be helping us get back to normal, but they are not even making an effort at raising crops, they're just scavenging what they find. They are feeding themselves plenty, but they are giving the people so little they are slowly starving."

"What's keeping the people from raising their own food?"

"The soldiers are; there was a group got together over at Rosedale, and the soldiers rounded them up, and executed some of them. The soldiers said they had to wait for authorization from Israel. That's where they say the Christ is, and that he will send word soon, but Zack, that man ain't no Christ, he's a devil, a Christ wouldn't do what they are doing. I hate to tell you boys, but you've come to a bad place, and its best you ride on out of here tonight, and don't come back to Bakersfield no more."

"I've got something I want you to have; I'll be right back." Zack went out to the horses, dug through his saddle bags, and came back through the door.

"Here, I want you to have this; it's a Bible, and maybe you would take a couple of days, and read it. Can you get that chip out of you hand?"

"Oh yeah, it's just under the skin...see?"

Zack saw a little hump about the size of a grain of rice, "Want me to dig it out? I'd dig it out, and read that Bible."

"Yeah, if you would, please go ahead, and dig it out, I don't want it."

Zack heated the end of his buck knife with a match, and lanced the skin, then squeezed, and the chip popped out, "Mind if I take this along with us tonight?"

"Go ahead, I want it out of the house, and I don't want to see it again."

Zack carefully wrapped the chip in a piece of paper, and then stuck it into his pocket to show Virgil.

"We have to go before we are spotted...Willard, can you do without food for a day or two?"

"Yeah Zack, I know what you are thinking, I'll get it." He got up and walked out the back door.

"I hate to leave you folks with no help, I really do."

"You have helped us more than you know, if just to know there are still free people out there. That's enough for us Zack."

Willard walked in, and dumped their food on the table, "You boys don't have to do that."

Floyd looked at the food in amazement.

"Yes we do. It's not much, but it will give you a little longer to read that Bible before you do what you feel you have to do."

"We'll go now; God bless both of you."

Floyd got up to shake their hand, and his wife asked, "Could you lean down so I could hug the both of you?"

They both leaned down to hug the woman who had tears in her eyes. Her face had grown old with constant pain, but her blue eyes were alive with spirit, and looking into them Zack saw the eternal spirit resting there.

They both shook Floyd's hand, walked out, gathered the horse's reins, and stepped into the saddle. They turned the horses quickly down the main drag, then kicked the horses into a run, until they cleared the town of Oildale, then headed out into the hills, leaving the road behind.

They rode steadily for several hours before again coming to the county road that would take them home. It was about three hours to sundown when they came to the Creek again.

"We have to rest the horses, or we will be walking back Willard."

"Yeah, but let's ride further down the Creek, I don't want to camp anywhere near this road."

"I know what you mean buddy...lead on."

Willard rode down the Creek about a quarter mile before stopping, "I'll gather wood while you water the horses, plenty of grazing for them here."

Zack watered the horses, then removed the saddles, and by that time Willard had a small fire going. They sat the rifles down near the saddles then leaned back on the saddles to rest.

Willard tapped him with his boot, "Would you look at that?"

A rabbit hopped up to the outskirts of the camp, and sat there sniffing the air. Zack eased his hand to the extra .22 rifle, raised it and fired, and the rabbit flopped over. Willard walked over, and picked it up, "Supper." He announced, grinning.

After they cooked the rabbit, and had it eaten Willard leaned back against his saddle again, "Zack..." He fished around for words, his lips moving.

"Don't you think it's a little strange the first house we went to was them folk? And now this consarned rabbit, now that beats all I have ever laid eyes on in my whole consarned life. We gave them food and a Bible, which is what they needed, then this here rabbit just hop's right into camp, which is what we needed."

"Willard, that's the longest sentence I have ever heard you use." Zack looked at the man, and grinned.

"Well goldern it, its something to talk about ain't it?" Willard looked at Zack with a perturbed look on his face.

"Yeah Willard, it is."

"Well...I know we was just part of two miracles, even if some folk could take issue with me on it, but how come God would give us a rabbit, yet not protect our group from getting shot up like that?"

"Willard, you saw those crosses back there, maybe death in this day, and time is a gift a whole lot bigger than a fat rabbit, or a few cans of food with good folk to share it with."

Willard looked at him steadily for thirty seconds, "I reckon you might be right at that." Then he pulled his blanket over him, covered his eyes with his hat, and three minutes later Zack could hear his soft snoring. Somewhere a night bird called its sleep song, and Zack Taylor laid there tossing, and turning, wishing for morning for he was restless to get back to the group.

The next morning when the east began to lighten under distant pink clouds, they hurriedly saddled the horses, and rode back to the county road that would lead them back to the only place they called home.

That afternoon they rode past the silent Kilgore ranch house, the only sound was the horse's hoofs chuffing in the dirt, and the creak of saddle leather. Willard pulled on his horse's reins, stopped and looked at the house where his friends had lived.

"Whoa up horse, what are you looking at Willard?"

"I reckon you was right about what you said yesterday."

"I hope so Willard." He kicked his horse into a trot.

They came to the ranch gate, and Ben stepped out to unlock the gate, "Thanks Ben."

"What did you boys find out?"

"Tell you at meeting Ben, right now both of us, and these horses need some grub, and rest too."

Zack, and Willard walked the tired horses on up to the ranch house. A man walked up to take the horses, and Zack walked into the house, and flopped into one of the easy chairs. Rosy came running in from the kitchen, lit atop him, smothering him with kisses.

After fifteen minutes, he tiredly climbed the stairs, and slept three hours before coming back down. When he re-entered the room, Virgil was sitting in a chair going over the endless lists of chores that ran the ranch.

"So, how bad is it? Do you want to tell it to me, or the whole group at meeting?"

"Willard spoke more than four words at one time Virgil."

"That bad huh? Well, it's best to tell it at meeting then." He sighed. "We'll crowd in the barn at nine in the morning. It's getting too cold to meet outside."

The next morning the group stood in silence with shocked looks on their faces. Their breathe steaming in the close air of the barn as Zack told them about the crosses, and about the executions for attempting to raise crops. There was only the sound of an occasional horse stomping in a stall. When he finished Virgil stood at the head of the group, "I don't expect they will come here until the spring, but they will come, and we will have to fight again. This has been a long hard road for all of us, and I know some have probably thought about giving in, but dying by a bullet might be the easiest way out."

"We are forced to forage farther out as most of the houses, and all the stores have been picked clean."

"Yeah, Ben has quit smoking." Someone remarked loudly, and the group laughed.

That seemed to relieve the stress, "Ok. I need four groups of two men each with pack horses to forage for food, and ammo. The AR-15's, and the AK-47's we took off the soldiers gives us the automatic weapon's we need, but we need ammo for them. We'll have to send out two vehicles to search for fuel up the interstate, and that's going to be the most dangerous assignment. If there are no volunteer's names will be pulled out of a hat. Ok, that's all I've got for now, so let's get back to the business of surviving the winter. All the volunteers gather in front of the main house in two hours."

Zack fell in step with Virgil as the group filed out of the large barn, "Virgil... is there a chance, we might be better off to run up the interstate toward Oregon, or maybe even into Oregon?"

"Sure I've thought about it, and I've heard talk about it. I guess it just boils down to whether we want to die on the road running from some Eastern block trash who's sitting in Israel claiming he's Jesus, or whether we want to die like American's, and die at a place of their own choosing."

"Yeah...I guess, sorry for bringing it up, I for one, am against the idea, but I've been asked by a few to put it on the table."

"And well you should. Now is not the time though, we need to get through the winter."

"Yeah, there's that."

"Well, let's get up to the house, and get ready to send out foraging parties. You don't go on any of these; I want you to get rested up for a while.""

November passed into December, and the people decided to set up tables in the barn, so that all could have dinner together on Christmas day. They built tables out of saw horses, and leftover plywood for the occasion. The barn was cleaned, and fresh straw was scattered over the floor, and the plywood tables set end to end with sheets spread on top.

December 25th came with about an inch of snow upon the ground in an unexpected cold snap. The ladies quickly brought the steaming dishes, and set them on the tables. Donaldson, being the oldest man in the group, was chosen to say a few words after prayer.

He stood up at the end of the table and began, "Ladies, and gentlemen; I suppose it is very fitting that we have this dinner together in a barn, for that is where our Lord was born, the best I understand. I think we will all be dead by this time next year, but it says in the Bible, We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.

Wherefore we labour, that, whether present or absent, we may be accepted of him, so let us be thankful in all seasons, courageous, love one another until the end when the work in this earth is done. Amen?"

There were amen's all around the tables as they partook of that Christmas dinner together.

That night it warmed, and the next day the snow was gone by noon. That night Virgil lay on the bed with his hands laced behind his head.

"Virgil?" Jan raised herself up on her elbow.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think God allowed Donaldson to see into our future when he said that about us not living through another Christmas?"

"That is certainly within the realm of possibility...yes I believe that is what was happening."

"Virgil?"

"Yeah?"

"You are a different person than the mechanic I married."

"Do you want that mechanic back?"

"No."

She started to say something else, but then heard his gentle snoring, and knew that he was asleep. She reached over and kissed him.

January, then February came and went as the small group struggled to survive on the last dregs of an economy long gone, and March saw the last of the diesel fuel, and there would be no more electricity even for the Doctors small hospital.

Virgil sat atop the hill in back of the ranch scanning the Porterville road through his binoculars, when he saw a long line of trucks loaded with troops emerging from around a bend in the road, and knew that the end for the little group of Christians had come.

The end
