Veil of Destruction (Kessler Effect Book 3), page 21
And for a moment, it wiped the worried expression from his face and from her heart.
Two weeks later the Lopez siblings met at a little house on Palo Verde Street. Akule let her gaze travel around the people sitting in her brother’s living room. He’d been given the use of a house next door to Cade and Harper. It seemed fitting. Akule thought of Pete and Danny and Little Lucy growing up next door to Jack and Olivia and the new baby that would be born in the spring. That image could sustain her through many a difficult night.
She understood there would be plenty of those.
Life was hard.
Every day it seemed to get even harder.
But this evening they were celebrating. Her father sat with Danny in his lap. The boy seemed to have become quite attached to his grandfather. Pete sat beside Paco. Claire held little Lucy. Tanda and Akule rounded out the group, both choosing to sit on the floor.
The living room had a small fireplace that held a blazing fire. The home wasn’t large, maybe fourteen hundred square feet. It was nowhere near the size of Paco’s home in Cedar Hill. And yet it felt right. Being crammed into the tiny living room together brought a measure of comfort against the cold wind blowing across the Chihuahuan desert.
“Great chili, Claire.” Tanda patted her stomach. “Hit the spot.”
“Thank your brother.”
“Paco made dinner?” Akule didn’t have to try to look surprised. “Didn’t know you could operate anything other than a microwave.”
“Yeah, well, since those stopped working my skills have grown.”
No more microwave popcorn or TV dinners or leftover pizza. Akule realized she didn’t care. She could live without those things the rest of her life. What she needed was these people—her family.
Tanda reached over and grabbed the foot of her nephew. “How do you like school, Pete?”
“I like it. We get to play baseball at recess.”
“Are you any good?”
“I think so.”
“He can hit the ball really far, Tia Tanda.” Four-year-old Danny stuck his thumb back into his mouth, something he was too old to do.
They were all coping in their own ways.
“And little Lucy? How’s she sleeping?”
“Better. Paco and I take turns getting up with her.” Claire nudged her husband. “Your turn tonight, buddy.”
Paco groaned and everyone laughed.
It all felt so normal. So right. Problems that weren’t insurmountable. Little things that their parents and grandparents had dealt with.
“I still have trouble wrapping my head around what you’ve done here.” Paco glanced out the window. “A town council, regular patrols, hunting parties, medical teams, even schools. It’s amazing, Tanda.”
“I didn’t do it,” Tanda said.
“Not what I heard, but putting that aside. . .” Paco rubbed at his jawline. “How is it that Alpine has fared so much better than the metroplex?”
“Mrs. Looper and Harper are addressing that very question in the Legacy Project.” Akule had taken to stopping by the writing center at Sul Ross University every afternoon, after her nursing shift. The Legacy Project had been created to document the days after June 6th. Anyone could contribute their experiences. Akule wanted to include their trip to Dallas—all of the experiences, both good and bad, believable and unbelievable. She didn’t want to forget. And she wanted others to benefit from what they’d been through. “Part of the project is gathering people’s stories who have sought sanctuary in Alpine. Describing what they experienced in other places. Figuring out what went wrong and what went right.”
“As to why we fared better here than other places, I believe it’s a combination of things,” Keme said.
“Give us an example.” Tanda leaned back, crossed her arms, and studied her brother.
“The more quickly people accepted that the world had changed, the better they made out.”
“We certainly saw that in Glen Rose, and those people—” Akule drummed her fingertips against her lips. “Remember, they understood the magnitude of what was happening almost immediately, certainly before the power went out.”
“Misinformation certainly played into the equation.” Paco took Lucy from his wife as she went in search of a clean diaper—a clean cloth diaper. “I’m not saying that was done with terrible intentions either. Governing officials probably meant well. They thought they could handle it. Thought they could avoid a collapse.”
“By lying to people.” Claire walked back into the room and handed the square of cloth to Paco, who proceeded to change his daughter’s diaper. “They lied to us. Thought we couldn’t handle the truth. And in the space of time it took us to figure out what was really happening—”
“To separate the lies from the truth—”
“It was too late. Resources were gone. People were frightened and running scared.”
“Which left immoral people—people like Will Martin—in charge. That shouldn’t have happened.” Paco handed the soiled diaper to Pete, who squirreled his nose in a comical gesture. But he carried the diaper and dropped it into a pail on the back porch.
Danny reached for his sister’s finger.
Lucy smiled.
And something in that tableau playing out before her, more than in what was being said, settled in Akule’s heart and touched her soul. They talked for a few more minutes, then Akule, Tanda, and Keme stood. Put on gloves and hats and scarves. Buttoned up the coats they’d never taken off.
It would take someone smarter than her, someone who had a bit of perspective and probably a degree in sociology and psychology, to figure out what had happened since June 6th.
Why it had happened.
How it had happened.
Akule realized she didn’t need to know those things. She kissed her niece and nephews goodnight, hugged Claire, stepped out onto the front porch with her father and aunt and brother.
“This is a good place to be.” Paco stuck his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know if I said it before, but thank you. Thank you for coming to get me. Thank you for saving my wife and my children.”
“Anytime, son.” Keme reached over and pulled Paco close. They stood there a moment, arms wrapped around one another, hearts open to one another.
Akule didn’t remember her father being openly affectionate before. They were changing, and in some ways those changes were for the better.
Tanda looped an arm through hers. “Your father says he saw your mom.”
“I did,” Keme said, pulling away from Paco and smiling. “She was riding Fiona.”
“Mom on a mule?” Paco started laughing.
Akule thought it was one of the most beautiful sounds she’d ever heard.
“I saw her too.” Akule’s voice was soft. All eyes turned to her, waiting, expecting more. But she didn’t have any more. Her mother’s presence had been there as they were trudging toward Alpine. As Dylan was bleeding out and Joshua was trying mightily to continue riding through the pain. She’d seen her mother. And her mother had seen her.
She didn’t need to assign a name to it.
Hallucination.
Desperate, hopeful thinking.
Guardian angel.
What you called a thing didn’t always matter. It was the fact of the thing that counted.
To her surprise, no one questioned her.
Paco squeezed her arm, then turned and went back into his house.
Her father looped his arm through hers. Tanda’s remained where it had been, and the three of them walked down the middle of the street that way.
Through the cold, the night, the uncertainty.
They walked, together, into their future.
The End
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Thank you for reading, Veil of Destruction. I hope you enjoyed the story. If you did, please consider rating the book or leaving a review at Amazon, Bookbub, or Goodreads.
Keep reading for a preview of Veil of Stillness, book 4 in the Kessler Effect series.
Author’s Note
This book is dedicated to my avid readers—those of you who will follow me into any genre. I appreciate you more than I can say.
I visited and thoroughly researched Alpine, Texas and the other locations mentioned in this book. Any changes made within the pages of this book were done so in order to expedite the plot of the book.
In 1978, NASA scientist Donald J. Kessler published a paper titled, “Collision Frequency of Artificial Satellites: The Creation of a Debris Belt.” This paper described a cascading collision of lower orbital satellites, something that has since been termed the Kessler Effect or the Kessler Syndrome. I have done my best to adequately present his theories within the text of this story. Any errors made in that representation are my own.
Many people were helpful in the writing of this book, including Kristy Kreymer and Tracy Luscombe. Teresa Lynn, thank you for making every book better. Also a big thanks to Glendon with Streetlight Graphics for creating covers that match what I’m seeing in my mind.
And, of course, Bob—I love you, babe.
An Excerpt From
Veil of Stillness
A Kessler Effect Novel
Book 4
March 28, 20—
Logan Wright spent an extra hour in his office after seeing his last patient. Betty would take care of the charts and the filing, but he needed a moment to wrap his head around what was happening. What he thought was happening.
His office was in the Sul Ross student center. What had been the student health center was now his medical office. It was where he saw folks who lived on the north side of town. The rodeo office was where he attended to the town’s horses. At least once a day it occurred to him that he was a walking apocalyptic stereotype.
A vet working on people.
Nine months since the satellite grid collapsed.
Nine months of this postmodern life.
He tried to break his practice down the middle—four hours a day with the animals, four hours with the people. The last few weeks it had been more like six hours on each side of that dividing line.
He studied his journal, added in the people he’d seen in the last twenty-four hours, and tried to come up with another explanation for what he was seeing.
There wasn’t another explanation.
The people of Alpine were suffering from malnutrition. If they didn’t get this under control soon, they’d be dealing with a cascading deluge of illness and death.
They couldn’t afford either.
He snapped the journal shut, reached for his jacket, and left the office. He stopped by his small suite adjacent to the administrative center. Designed for visiting professors and other special guests, it included a bedroom, sitting area, bathroom, and small kitchen.
There were no visiting professors since June 6th.
There were no classes, not in the traditional sense.
And while he had a perfectly good home and veterinary clinic on the outskirts of town, it made more sense to be on campus. To be close. To be where he could help in case of an emergency. And there had been plenty of emergencies.
He snagged his jacket from the back of the couch, left his apartment and the building. Turned toward downtown Alpine. His weekly meeting with Cade and Logan started promptly at six. He needed to know if they were seeing the same trends that he was.
Logan had grown up in Alpine. Spent all of his life there except for the years he’d attended college at Texas A&M. But this was not the town that he knew better than the home he’d grown up in. Things had changed, and he wasn’t certain they’d ever change back. Though the temperature was a pleasant seventy-two and the sun cast shadows across the empty streets, he saw very few people.
No couples walking hand-in-hand.
No teens throwing a ball.
No one had the energy for those things now.
He walked with his head down and his hands pushed in his pockets. He hesitated at the door of Miles Turners’ practice which was located in the heart of downtown. Ran his fingers over the words stenciled on the door.
Dr. Ron Fielder, M.D.
Fielder had been practicing when Logan was born. In fact, Fielder had delivered Logan. He’d been one of the first to die. He’d suffered a heart attack the first week. He pushed through the door and attempted a smile for Miles’ receptionist.
“They’re waiting on you,” Anita said.
“Shouldn’t you be home by now?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes darted to the pile of charts, then to the street again, then back.
Unsettled. Unfocused. He was seeing it in everyone.
“Go home, Anita. The charts will still be here tomorrow. I’ll send over one of the Sul Ross students to help you catch up on the files.”
“Really?” A smile broke through her exhaustion. “Excellent. Thank you, Logan.”
She stood, turned in a circle, then snapped her fingers. Opening the bottom drawer, she pulled out her purse, looped the strap over her shoulder. She was nearly to the door, when she turned and said, “Can you keep the meeting short? Miles is looking exhausted.”
“I’ll do my best.”
As he walked back to Miles’s office, it occurred to him that it wasn’t just his patients who were exhausted and underfed. Everyone in this town was. Hell, maybe everyone in the entire world. Their society had depended on large factories, massive farms, and modern shipping to supply what they needed for several generations. Now they were facing the consequences of that trend.
He tapped on the door frame, then walked in and sank into the one empty chair. Miles sat behind the desk, hair askew, dark circles under his eyes. He looked like a first-year resident who’d been on shift for much too long. Cade didn’t look much better. In fact, the man looked like he’d passed thin several months ago. He looked gaunt.
They discussed two patients who were post-op, an elderly woman who had taken a fall and was now staying at the Maverick Inn, and three children with dental issues.
“We need a dentist,” Cade said. “I don’t know enough about that particular specialty to know how to treat these patients.”
“Maybe one will be on the next train into Alpine.” Miles reached down and patted Zeus’s head. The Labrador followed him everywhere.
Logan realized even the dog looked thinner, and he hadn’t risen to greet him as he always did.
“How’s your dog?” Logan asked.
“Huh? Zeus? He’s okay. I mean, older. Moving slower, but okay.”
“We’re all older,” Cade joked.
“Maybe that’s not the problem.” Logan tapped his journal, but he didn’t open it. He didn’t need to. “I think we’re all suffering from malnutrition...even Zeus.”
Miles sat back causing his chair to creak and crossed his arms. “What are you seeing on your side of town?”
“Folks coming in with sleeping issues. They’re exhausted, but claim they can’t sleep.”
“That can be due to any number of problems.”
Logan began listing the symptoms he’d seen most frequently. “Weakened immune system, hair loss, irritability, brain fog.”
“Careful. You’re stepping on my toes now.” Cade scrubbed both hands across his face. “I thought it was just not enough sleep and worrying about Harper.”
“Speaking of Harper, how many pregnancies do we have?”
“None of my patients,” Miles admitted.
“And none of mine—except for Harper.”
“And an increase in dental problems. . .” Logan stared out the window, at the setting sun and the empty streets. “I think most if not all of these problems are due to malnutrition. And it’s only going to get worse.”
“Okay.” Miles drew the word out. “What do you suggest we do about it?”
“Go to Tanda. She might have some suggestions.”
“Even our esteemed police chief—”
“And friend,” Miles cut in.
Cade nodded. “Even she can’t produce food out of thin air.”
“I think we need to go south. I need to go south.”
“South? Like Mexico?”
“Rio Grande Valley. Think about it. Citrus. Potatoes. Even carrots and sugar beets. It’s all grown in the valley.”
“It was all grown in the valley. We don’t know that they’ve managed to grow anything since June 6th.”
“So we go. We find out.”
“And pay them with what?”
“I don’t know.”
Miles stood, stretched, and reached for his jacket. “Anyone want to bet Tanda is still in her office?”
“I think she sleeps there,” Cade said.
Logan followed them out of the building and down the street to the police department. He had no doubt that Tanda was in her office. He also was willing to bet she would not be eager to endorse their plan.
So he needed to make her see that it wasn’t an option.
He’d been thinking for months about trade routes.
It was past time that they went about creating one.
Because one thing they all agreed on was that no one was coming to save the people of Alpine. Even if there was a functional government, and he wasn’t sure he believed there was, Alpine would be one of the last places to receive supplies. The feds had bigger problems on their hands—problems like New York City, Los Angeles, Chicago, Houston.
The good folks of Alpine couldn’t wait on Big Brother to sweep in and save the day. The good folks of Alpine were going to have to save their selves. Which was exactly what they’d been doing for the last nine months.
