Read The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3) Online

Authors: Deborah D. Moore

Tags: #prepper survivalist, #disaster, #dystopian, #end of the world, #prepper, #post apocalyptic, #weather disasters, #strong female lead, #apocalypse, #supervolcano

The Journal: Crimson Skies: (The Journal Book 3) (31 page)

“I can be just as stubborn, Sister Doris.”
Mark winked at her. “Father Constantine is this town’s spiritual
leader now, and we need him. If he protests, remind him he still
needs to baptize the new babies.”

I left the Sister two extra masks and more
surgical gloves. She’d need them.

 

~~~

 

Outside, a confused Mark asked, “What was
that about telling Mom?”

“It seems that Father Constantine is Sister
Doris’ biological brother. She is totally devoted to his wellbeing,
so I don’t think we need to worry about the care he’s getting.”

Mark was reaching for the door to the
hospital when James opened it. “I’m glad you’re back. There are
five new cases and three more deaths,” he stated. “I don’t know
what to do.”

“James, there isn’t anything
to
do. If
anyone shows up here, send them to the camp,” a very weary Mark
told him. “It’s late and I’m exhausted. We’re going home. I’ll see
you in the morning. Send someone if you need me.”

 

November 24

The Sisters moved quickly getting the empty
Camp Tamarack open and functioning as a field hospital, a triage
center, and a morgue.

“Do you have enough supplies, Sister? What
about help?” I asked Sister Agnes. I handed her a box each of masks
and gloves that we retrieved from the medical supply van.

“So far the only supplies we need are these,”
she said, holding up the boxes I’d delivered. “Marsha gave us a
number of large jars of bouillon. Most everyone here is too sick to
eat, though they do manage to get down a cup of broth. As for help,
well, few want to willingly expose themselves to a deadly virus,
and we’re making do with assistance from Gray.”

We walked out into the cool afternoon air.
The sun was straining to be seen through the ever-present muddy
clouds. The fake cobblestone walkways were cluttered with road
gravel and stray leaves. The air was strangely quiet, except for an
occasional hacking cough from behind closed cabin doors.

“Even though there are enough buildings to
separate people, we’re keeping them together for ease of care,” she
explained as we passed a dark building. “The men are here, while we
put the women next door. They may be sick, even dying, but their
modesty is deeply ingrained. The ones that are the saddest are the
children. At least one parent is staying when a sick child arrives,
unfortunately that parent is usually sick too, and dies before the
child.”

This tour was making my heart hurt.

“Over here is the morgue,” Agnes told me when
we came to the last building. We rounded the corner and were
blasted by an icy chill coming off Lake Superior. The building’s
roof hung low and the dirty windows were shuttered closed. “We’ve
been open for twenty-four hours and have had that many die. A new
mass grave was dug this morning, so Sisters Margaret and Lynn have
been busy preparing the bodies.” She stopped and turned to me. “Are
you up for this? It’s shocking even if you know what’s coming.”

We stepped inside. Table after table was
filled with mounds of lifeless forms covered with unmoving sheets.
I lifted a corner and quickly dropped it. Another vision filled my
mind, one of lifeless bodies stacked on a mattress in the school
gym. I shuddered.

“Why are they all nude?”

“We have been made fully aware by the colonel
and Mr. White that we cannot afford to waste anything. That goes
double for clothing, Allexa.” Her voice was soft and gentle, and it
held an edge of reality that comes from having seen some very bad
things. “When someone is brought in, their information is recorded.
Any jewelry or watches are put in an envelope with their name and
held for the next of kin, if there is one. We remove all their
clothing and set it aside for laundering; same for shoes.
Eventually it will all be available for the taking at the gift and
supply shop.” She smiled at me. “You’re shocked, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I… I guess I am. The more I think about
it though it’s the logical thing to do. There’s no good reason the
survivors should be deprived of something they could use.”

“Exactly, and those here don’t care. They are
with God now, their souls are at peace. Even though these bodies
are just empty vessels now, they are treated and handled with the
utmost care and respect, Allexa, be assured of that.”

“I quite honestly don’t think I have it in me
help you here, with the living or the dead, but is there anything
that I
can
do?” I asked, still mesmerized by the horrific
sight in front of me.

“As a matter of fact, yes, there is something
we very much need done and can’t spare anyone to do it. Will you
take this clothing to the laundromat? Your son’s wife is running it
now, isn’t she? Perhaps she can wash and fold for us,” Sister Agnes
suggested, with a faraway look in her eyes. I wondered how she
compartmentalizes so well.

 

November 24

“Joshua,” I called out. “Are you here?” I
walked down to his house and didn’t see him outside like he usually
was.

“Oh yes, Miss Allexa, I’m on the radio
talking to one of my new friends,” he answered, a gleeful tone to
his voice that I hadn’t heard in way too long.

“I hate to interrupt you, but could you raise
Mathers Lake? I need to talk with Mr. Collins and I don’t want to
drive all the way out there.”

I heard him sign off and start with a calling
out jargon that he apparently was taught.

“Here you are, Miss Allexa, they’re getting
Mr. Collins for you now,” Joshua said, relinquishing his seat to me
and handing me the headphones.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure, Allexa?”
Art said a few minutes later.

“It’s twofold, Art. First I wanted to make
sure you were aware of the flu that has hit Moose Creek so you can
keep your people away from here and safe.”

“Yes, I heard. How bad is it?”

“Bad. We’ve had three dozen deaths so far and
dozens more sick. So please, keep yourself isolated. If there are
any medical emergencies, you can reach Mark through Joshua, or you
can come straight to the clinic or here,” I offered.

“I understand. And the other thing?”

“Peter used to be the township handyman. We
need to see him about the town’s water pumps. He’s the only one who
knows where the well pumps are and where the generator is located.
Those in charge, Colonel Andrews and Tom White, have been careful
about being masked and gloved whenever they are in contact with
anyone, so they have escaped getting sick. I’ll make sure Pete gets
protective gear before talking to them, so he’ll be safe. We really
do need him for an hour or two though. Please.”

“Your family has been more than kind and
generous to us, Allexa, even after our rough start. I will make
sure he comes to see you tomorrow,” Art assured me. “Anything
else?”

I thought for a moment. “How are the kids
doing with the mystery novels?”

Art laughed. “They have blasted through them
twice. It’s refreshing to see them interested in reading again.
They would love to have more if you can arrange it.”

“Of course. Have Pete bring those back and I
will give him another batch to take back. And one more thing, Art,”
I said quickly before he hung up. “I’m curious about something.
What did you do with the hides from the deer you sent to the
kitchen?”

“Over the past year one of my men has gotten
exceptionally good at tanning. We don’t waste anything,” he
replied.

“That’s good to know, Art, and I’m glad the
hides are being put to good use. What are the finished hides being
turned into?”

“A variety of things, and right now shoes are
high on our list, since the kids seem to grow out of everything so
quickly. Next time you come up I’ll take you on a tour of our
tanning factory.”

 

~~~

 

“Are you going into town soon?” I asked Mark.
He looked tired even after a full night’s sleep.

“Yes I am. I need to give Father Constantine
his antibiotics and relieve James for a while. Will you come with
me?”

I smiled, knowing he enjoyed my company even
when we had unpleasant tasks to perform.

“Yep, and I need to stop at the school for
some more books for the Mathers Lake kids. Art says they love the
young adult mysteries. Pete should be coming in tomorrow, so I need
to let Jim and Tom know . I hope you don’t mind that I don’t want
to go out to Camp Tamarack again. It’s just too depressing.”

 

~~~

 

We drove Mark’s fuel-efficient little gray
compact to Carolyn’s old house. I’d like to find another way to
refer to it, and I don’t know what to call it yet. The Nunnery
doesn’t sound right and it isn’t a chapel.

We let ourselves in as usual, and called out,
but no one answered. Father Constantine was still in bed, still
propped up to keep his lungs clear. Although he was sleeping, I
could see his color was better.

“Father Constantine?” Mark said, placing his
hand on the Father’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered open and he
smiled.

“Good morning, Doctor. It is morning, isn’t
it?” He coughed, and I was happy to hear that the rumblings in his
chest were not as deep as before. Perhaps he was beating this
flu!

“Close enough,” Mark said, grinning. He must
have noticed the improvement too. “Time for me to listen to you
breathe again.” He pulled out his stethoscope.

I wandered about looking for Sister Doris.
She wasn’t in the luxurious kitchen that Carolyn had loved so much,
which had endless amounts of oak cupboards and granite counter
space. I finally found her in the back room that overlooked Lake
Meade. She was sitting in an overstuffed purple chair facing the
picture window, enjoying the picturesque view. Blood dribbled from
the corner of her mouth when she coughed. She had hidden her
sickness from us very well. Sister Doris opened her bloodshot
eyes.

“How’s Connie doing?” she asked, and coughed
again, spitting up more blood.

“He’s doing much better, thanks to you,
Doris.” My voice cracked and I could feel the tears starting. “Why
didn’t you tell us you were sick? Maybe we could have helped.”

“Taking care of my brother was always first
and something I had to do on my own. He’s such a good man, Allexa,
and he must live. I owe that to him, and I promised our parents I
wouldn’t leave him, and now I must. I’m dying,” she stated simply
in a subdued voice. “I need to talk with him.”

 

“Mark,” I said, after leading him away from
his patient, “Doris is in the other room, very sick, and feels
she’s dying. She wants to see Father Constantine. Is he strong
enough to go there? I don’t think she could make it in here.”

We helped the priest walk with us on either
side. He was still very weak and we sat him down in a soft chair
across from Doris.

“Hey, little sister,” Father said softly.
“Did you catch my cold?”

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled.
“Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.” She paused to cough,
bringing up more blood. “Oh, Connie, I need your blessing and the
Last Rites.” Her voice was barely audible.

His face fell, and the tears gathered in his
deep brown eyes. He placed his hand on her head and began the Latin
incantation,
"Per istam sanctan unctionem et suam piissimam
misericordiam, indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid per visum,
audtiotum, odorátum, gustum et locutiónem, tactum, gressum
deliquisti."

We backed out of the room to give them
privacy.

I leaned into Mark and sobbed.

 

~~~

 

Gray and Eric arrived in the township
ambulance and quietly brought the gurney inside. We waited until
Father Constantine made his way down the hall a half hour later,
using the walls to hold himself up.

“She’s yours now, Doctor,” he said
emotionlessly, and he sat down in the nearest chair, staring at the
floor through his hands folded in prayer.

Mark checked Doris’ vitals and pronounced her
dead. I felt like I had been kicked in the chest. I moved back down
the hall to wave the gurney forward. A few minutes later they
reappeared with the still form of Sister Doris covered in a pink
sheet. I barely had the strength to open the door for them.

I knelt down in front of the priest, his head
still bowed in prayer. “Father Constantine, do you want to go with
Doris, or ride with us when we take her to the other Sisters?”

He finally looked up at me, bewildered. “Yes,
of course,” he struggled to stand. “I’ll go with her.”

 

The ambulance followed us on the long winding
road inside the Camp Tamarack gate. We stopped at the last building
on the right, the morgue Sister Agnes had taken me to. She and
Sister Margaret came out on the short front porch. As I got out of
our car, I could see the confusion in their eyes; we had not used
the ambulance for body delivery before.

When Father Constantine slowly got out of the
back, they both ran to him, relieved… until the gurney was pulled
out. Sister Agnes straightened her back, walked over to the
shrouded body, and lifted the colorful sheet. When she saw whose
body it was, she crumpled to her knees and gave out the most
mournful wail I’ve ever heard.

Sister Lynn had been tending patients in
another building when we arrived and started running toward us as
Sister Agnes went down. The three Sisters and the priest gathered
around the body of their beloved family member, holding hands,
praying, and crying.

“I know this is asking for a special favor,
Allexa,” Sister Margaret said tearfully, “but… we can’t bury her in
this mass grave. We just can’t.” Tears spilled down her cheeks
again.

“We will find room in the Catholic cemetery
for her,” I promised, my own heart breaking for their loss.

 

~~~

 

We laid Sister Doris to rest the next
morning, dressed in her full habit, in the front of the sanctified
ground. Jason had spent all night working on an appropriate grave
marker, etched with flowers and smiling children.

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