Earth's Survivors, page 167
"Their outpouring was great," the older man said.
Jeremiah simply nodded his head as he turned back to the crowd.
"They are my people, Jeremiah, even the ones among them who do not believe, or have yet to believe... They are all of them my children, and I love them all, Jeremiah."
Jeremiah was surprised to feel tears running down his own cheeks as he watched the crowd. "Does this mean they decided?" Jeremiah asked.
"No, Jeremiah, it does not. It simply means they have decided to decide. I cannot say where they will go from here, or even whom they will follow. It is one thing to decide, and yet an entirely different one to follow," he paused briefly as if thinking.
"Things that will soon come to pass, will be great to overcome, Jeremiah," he paused again, looking out over the crowd.
"Will they follow?"
He continued "...It is not certain."
"But you know, Lord, don't you?" Jeremiah asked. "You kin tell what will happen can't you?" Jeremiah had turned away from the crowd and now faced the older man beside him.
"It is never certain, Jeremiah. Certainty would take choice away, and choice must be maintained. It is up to them. They can walk entirely away from the fight if they choose, or they can stay and fight the fight. Either way the choice must remain."
Jeremiah reached up and brushed the tears from his cheeks, as he listened. When the older man had finished he nodded his head in agreement.
"I know that," Jeremiah said, "you told me, Lord. It's just a hard thing to understand, or even think about. I don't know what I kin do, Lord, but I'll do whatever you need me to."
"I know that, Jeremiah," the older man said. "Do you know what I need you to do, Jeremiah?"
"I think I do, Lord. Just to do whatever I kin to convince them."
"That is true, Jeremiah, but I mean right now."
"Not completely, Lord," Jeremiah answered.
"Just to believe, Jeremiah. It is going to be hard to do. It has always been hard to do for all of my people. This is not a choice that is, has, or ever will be an easy choice to follow once it has been made."
"I know that, Lord, and I do believe."
"I know you do, Jeremiah, but you see me. You see me standing in front of you, and so you believe that I truly am. That will not be any longer. You will have to find me in your heart where I have always been. You will have to go back to the acceptance that you felt, before you had ever met me. I will listen from your heart, and that is where I will live. If you need me you will have to trust that I live in you. Do you understand?"
"I believed before I saw, Lord. I always did, and I always will. Do you mean you won't come and talk to me?"
"Jeremiah, how can someone make a choice that is based on faith, without faith?"
"I understand that, Lord, but it don't explain the why of it. If you want people to believe, you should just appear to them and they will. Wouldn't they?"
"It is not the same thing, Jeremiah. You believed before you saw me. You believe now that Maggie waits for you, and that physical life will continue to go onward. Why do you believe that Maggie is waiting for you, Jeremiah?"
"Well... Because you told me, lord, and because I seen her myself. You took me to her," Jeremiah replied.
"Yes I did, but how do you still believe, when you cannot see her? What is it that makes you continue in your belief that she is still waiting for you?"
"You, Lord," Jeremiah said, "you told me so."
"But if I were not here, would you still believe, Jeremiah? You do not need to see me to believe. You only need to believe that I am there. If you believe, it makes it real for you. That is faith, Jeremiah. The belief in something you cannot see, nor touch. That is why faith must also be, in order for choice to be. I was not here yesterday, but you believed. I walked with you but you did not see me. Yet you did believe in me. Do you understand, Jeremiah?"
"I do, lord," Jeremiah said, he paused briefly. "But, I will see you again won't I?"
"Of course, Jeremiah. You will see me when you leave here. You will see me when you no longer require your physical body. It is not a long time, Jeremiah. That is not to say that the time you will still require your physical body is short. It may or may not be. I cannot say. Jeremiah, it is faith. Faith is what you have had, and faith is what you must continue to have."
"I do understand, Lord," Jeremiah said. His eyes seemed sad as he spoke, betraying the heaviness his heart felt. He turned back out to the large crowd of people who were still speaking below, after he answered. They were still talking and sharing with one another, and didn't seem to be the same dispirited crowd of people he had walked through just a few hours earlier when he had come into the city.
"Lord, I will see Maggie again won't I?" Jeremiah asked as he stared out into the crowd. He waited for the older man beside him to respond, and after a few seconds when he had not, he turned to find out why.
The stone steps were deserted as Jeremiah looked across them. The older man was gone.
Jeremiah drew a deep breath, and let it back out in a sigh. He stepped slowly up the last stone riser, and walked into the old court house. His heart felt heavier than it ever had, and the longing for Maggie seemed much stronger. You're right lord, he thought to himself, as he walked into the old stone building. It's a hard go, just believin', but you're right.
Below him in the vast crowd two separate groups had formed, and their lines could be seen with ease. It was distinct now, and the two groups were drawing further apart from one another as the seconds ticked by. They spoke only among themselves, only to those in their own group.
The larger group was still gathered around the now vacant police cruiser, and the smaller group began to drift farther away to the other side of the street where Main street fronted the War Memorial. They almost seemed in ignorance of one another as they coalesced, and drifted further apart. Presently the smaller group struck off down East main, towards the north side of the city. A few men in the lead of the smaller group, urging them farther away, almost herding them.
The larger group felt them go. It was almost as if they tugged at their souls as they went. But they had made a choice, and their leaving seemed to actually uplift the spirits of those who stayed behind.
Jeremiah sipped at a hot cup of coffee he had gotten from a tired looking woman inside the old court house, as he watched the smaller crowd move away. He sat on the top step and watched until they disappeared down East Main street.
Frank and Jessie
In the crowd below, Frank stood holding Jessie close to him. When some others had left and joined the smaller group he had been afraid that she would also go. She hadn't. Of the small group that had made the trip from Watertown, most had stayed. Dave had left, as well as Mike and Gina. One minute they had been there, and the next they were walking away towards the other group that was forming.
Frank had been sure that Lisa would leave with Dave. They had seemed to be growing close. But in the end he had simply turned and left her standing with the others, walking the short distance to the smaller group. She had seemed hesitant, about to follow, but instead had turned her back on the smaller crowd and remained. Frank felt saddened by their leaving. He knew, and suspected they knew, that they were making some sort of choice. He was not positive what kind of choice he had made, other than that for him; it was the choice of good. It was equally clear cut to him that the other choice was evil, or bad. He did not go beyond that in his thinking. He was only glad that Jessie had made the same choice.
Jeremiah stood from the stone steps, and walked slowly down the risers to the crowd below. He walked to the police car, and stood close to Jimmy. He turned and looked at Jeremiah, and Jeremiah could see the tracks his tears had left as they found their way from his eyes and across his face. He did not seem to be sad though. He had a soft smile on his face as he spoke to Jeremiah.
"Did you see?" he asked, as he looked back over the crowd of people. "I didn't have the slightest idea of what I was going to say when I got out of that stupid car. I just talked, and it's kind of funny, but I don't even remember everything I said," he looked at Jeremiah as though he might not believe him.
"I kin understand that real well," Jeremiah said softly, "been there myself a few times. I ain't sure it matters what you said, so much as you said what you felt had to be said."
Jimmy nodded his head in agreement. "Did you find the man you were looking for?" he asked.
"You might say he found me," Jeremiah said. "But if you mean have I spoke to him yet, I ain't. I'm hoping he's still in this crowd somewhere."
Even though Jeremiah's statement hadn't entirely made sense to him, the young man nodded his head.
"Buy you another cup of coffee?" Jeremiah asked.
"Sure. Sure," Jimmy replied. He turned and walked back towards the old court house building with Jeremiah. They mounted the worn stone steps, and went inside.
Apart from the older woman behind the long table serving coffee and sandwiches, the inside of the building was empty. Everyone had left and gone outside into the night air. Some to leave, and some to decide to stay.
"Back for seconds?" she asked with a smile as Jeremiah and Jimmy approached the long table.
"Maybe so," Jeremiah said, smiling back, "maybe even thirds."
"They done out there?" she asked, motioning towards the dark outside the doors.
"As done as they can be," Jeremiah said. "I ain't so sure, that a thing is ever really done, but I suppose they're mostly done."
She nodded her head as he spoke, and when he finished she handed him a fresh cup of coffee. As she handed another steaming Styrofoam cup to Jimmy, she spoke. "Made up my own mind yesterday," she said. "I just figured it was time, so I did. What's next?" she asked.
"Well... I ain't sure myself," Jeremiah said. "I suppose it's time to stand and fight," he leveled his eyes at her as he spoke.
"It's what I figured," she said. The smile did not leave her face. "I'll stand with you, and you can take that to the bank."
"I believe you will," Jeremiah said.
"Me too," Jimmy said. "I'm with you."
"I believe you too," Jeremiah said, "but I want to make it clear, it ain't me you'll be making a stand with."
"I know that," Jimmy replied calmly. "I knew when you walked up to the car, like you were just out for a Sunday stroll. I think I made up my mind before you left, and to be honest I'm glad I did," his eyes were calm as he spoke, matching his voice.
Jeremiah turned back to the woman behind the table. He knew her name from his last trip in to get coffee. "Bess?"
"Me too," she replied. "I know the difference between following God and following a man. I'm glad he brought you though, Jeremiah, I was beginning to think we'd be here forever before somebody showed up. Whether you admit it, or want to take the credit for it, you got us moving. It's important. I suppose you were just doing what you felt was right, but you didn't have to. I guess that's why I'm glad. You didn't have to, but you did." Bess poured herself a cup of coffee as she finished.
"Bring it with you, Bess," Jeremiah said, "bring it on outside. People kin get their own coffee if they want it."
Jeremiah turned and they walked as a group down the stairs, back out into the crowd.
FIVE
Seattle
Joe and Arlene
The trek out of Seattle was much harder than Joe and Arlene had thought it would be.
It was close to noon before they reached the outskirts of the city and decided to try to find some kind of four wheel drive vehicle at one of the many dealerships that dotted I 405. They had hoped to leave via I-90 and cross Mercer Island, but after a two hour walk, most of which consisted of crawl-walking over the tops of stalled vehicles, they had been forced to turn back when they reached the edge of Lake Washington. I-90 was gone, and nothing but blue-green water stretched away to the island.
They had debated back tracking to 520, and crossing the lake there instead. Joe had pretty much let Arlene decide. She was, after all familiar with Seattle, and he was not. In the end they had decided to head south down 5.
It had been slow going until they reached the Martin Luther King Highway. The stalled traffic had been much lighter there, and they had been able to drive part of the way by cutting into the parking lots of fast food restaurants, that dotted almost the entire length of the highway. Getting a car had not been a problem; there were several used car lots along the highway. They had used the parking lots to swing around the worst of the traffic, and that had worked well until they reentered 5. It was hopelessly packed with stalled traffic. They had left the car, which had sounded as if it was close to dying anyway, and struck out on foot again. Arlene led the way as they cut cross lots through Renton Municipal Airport, and eventually they came to 405.
Crossing the dead airfield had been unnerving for both of them. Many of the runways had cracked, and either lifted skyward, or tilted down into the ground. Several blackened skeletons of large aircraft dotted the airfield. Most of them were so badly burned that they had been unable to tell what they had been before. Joe thought a couple of them may have been military aircraft, but as badly twisted as they were it was impossible to be sure.
One large 707 sat tilted skyward on a chunk of runway that had separated from the surrounding pavement. The plane looked untouched, and almost as though it was some sort of rocket ship waiting to be launched skyward. Luggage, some burned, some untouched, was scattered across the airfield in every direction, and many of the suitcases were burst, with papers and clothing scattered everywhere along with other personal effects. There were bodies too.
On their way through the city they had seen very few bodies. It had been unsettling to Arlene. Almost as if everyone had just decided to leave at the same time. The bodies they had seen had not been killed by the Earthquake. They bore gunshot wounds, and appeared to have been dead for only a short period of time. Possibly only the last two or three days, they decided.
The bodies at the airport were concentrated around the terminal building. The huge glass windows were peppered with holes, and in some cases completely blown inward, as if a battle had taken place for the terminal. Most of the bodies inside were concentrated behind the long rows of seats in the main lobby, as if they had been trying to use the seats for cover. It had apparently done no good. They paused only briefly, wondering what had occurred before they moved on. The overwhelming stench in the shattered terminal building drove them out. The wrecked planes, where they had expected to see bodies scattered all around, were empty.
Occasionally they heard gunfire around them, and twice explosions from the downtown district behind them had startled them. They had hurried along fearing the sounds, but fearing more the possibility that the owners of the guns might find them.
Joe explained, with only partial success, that a battle had begun, but Arlene had found it hard to accept. They walked in silence across the remainder of the shattered airfield, and they were both glad when they left it behind them.
They walked slowly towards a truck dealership on 405. Here, like the Martin Luther King Highway, black topped parking areas fronted all manner of fast food restaurants, which bordered both sides of the strip. It wouldn't necessarily assure a way around the stalled traffic, Joe realized, but it appeared as though it would give them a much better chance of getting by.
They walked together to the back of a used car garage and pushed up the steel overhead door. It took a few minutes to move a couple of the cars out of the way, so that they could drive a pickup out of the garage and onto the lot out front.
Joe drove the truck across the grassy lot, and stopped at the rear of a gas station to look for a state map. Arlene followed him into the deserted station.
She filled a paper bag with some groceries, mostly canned goods, while Joe opened the map and studied it on the counter at the front of the station.
"Looks like the best way out," Joe said, "Is still going to be 90. We should be able to skirt around most of the traffic, shouldn't we?"
"Believe it or not, I don't really know," Arlene answered. "I mean I live here, or did, but I didn't get out of the city at all, or hardly ever, so I don't know what its’ like."
She paused and looked at Joe as he bent over the map. He smiled as he spoke.
"I actually understand that," he said. "I didn't really know a lot about getting around outside of Watertown. I guess you learn how to get to the places you need to get to, and that's about it. No real big deal though. According to the map there are a lot of loops, sort of side roads that go around, and run parallel to 90, and hey, we've got four wheel drive, we can cut through the fields if we have to, right?"
Arlene shrugged her shoulders, as she replied. "I guess?" The attempt at humor was not lost on her, and she flashed a smile at him as she shrugged her shoulders again. "I guess if the cows don't mind."
Joe grinned back, and they both laughed a little as they walked back out to the truck.
"You know," Joe said as they climbed into the cab of the truck, "we should stop and pick up a couple of sleeping bags, and maybe a tent too. We still need to pick up a couple of rifles as well." He didn't want to alarm her, or make her start to worry, by bringing the subject up once more, but the truth was that he was fairly worried himself. If there were armed people running around killing whoever they chose too, it would be kind of stupid, he thought, not to have weapons. Arlene had the pistol, but Joe wasn't sure it would do a lot of good. She surprised him when she not only agreed, but didn't seem to lose her smile when she did.
"I think it would be stupid not to carry a rifle," she said, echoing Joe's thoughts, "you know much about them?"
"Not really," Joe confessed, "I've never even shot a rifle, you know, just never learned, I guess, or even wanted to. I think I could learn though. You know anything about them?"
"Well, now that you mention it, I do. At least a little. Not from shooting one, but more from seeing them. There are a lot of pawn shops on Longwood, sort of goes with the territory, I guess. That's where I got this," she said, holding up the small pistol, "there has to be a sports shop out here somewhere." Almost as she spoke Joe spotted one across the crowded interstate.
