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Chapter 38: Hitchhiker

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Thursday–Early Morning

Rick is drawn to the activity in the distance. Lights from police and fire vehicles flash dimly, dulled by a dusty fog. Inches of dirt covers the ground. He can make out a narrow road; raised above the rest of the landscape. He walks to the flashing lights. The sun is rising with a burnt orange hue.

Rick approaches carefully. He doesn’t expect to see Black Guard here, but doesn’t know where here is, so caution is in order. The last thing he needs is to get captured and taken to New Zion, or worse, back to New Arcadia. As he walks to the lights, more cars, and trucks zip past, heading to the site. People exit their cars and rush to see what has happened. Rick stands among people marveling at a crater in the ground. At fourteen hundred feet in diameter, it looks enormous. The impact is fresh. Wisps of steam rise from the dirt. 

As the morning sun rises, it dissolves the deep shadows in the hole, revealing a two hundred fifty-foot-deep crater. There is no fiery molten rock at the bottom, just smoldering dirt. Rick observes the police and emergency personnel. They’re standing around talking. No one is injured. There is no damage, except for a giant hole in the middle of a field. The officials and city folk are looking at the crater and talking amongst themselves.

Rick stands at the crater’s edge and understands what happened to the railcar. A meteor impacted Earth directly over the path of the high-speed rail smashing the tube, cutting power, and sending a burst of air down the tunnel, causing the railcar to derail.

More people arrive to ogle the crater. It’s something most people would never expect to see in their lifetime. The local people view the crater as a curiosity. Rick sees it as a warning.

A group of young men, in their twenties, arrive in pickup trucks and run to the edge of the crater, gathering near Rick. “Oh shit! Look at that crater. I told you it was an asteroid,” says one of the young men.

“Whoa, that 'oid musta been huge!” says another.

“I heard asteroids have gold and diamonds in em. I bet there’s a huge meteor buried down there!” a third young man exclaims.

“Remember when my family went to the Diamond Crater in Arkansas. That crater has tons of diamonds. My brother found a bunch,” says a fourth man.

Two of the young men run to their pickup, returning to the crater’s edge with shovels. “I’m digging me some diamonds,” says one of the young men holding his shovel.

“Not if I get there first, sucker. Finders keepers. Whoo-hoo!” says the shovel-wielding man, as he goes over the edge and runs down the steep slope into the crater. His competitor follows, jumping off the raised rim of the crater, landing on both feet in the soft dirt, stumbling and almost falling forward as he runs down the slope, shovel in hand, yelling after his friend.

“Those diamonds are mine, Wyatt. Gold and diamonds, here I come! We’re gonna be rich!”

The police chief watches the two men run into the crater and yells after them. “Wyatt and Benjamin; you two be careful. This here is Wagner’s land. If you find anything, you need to take it up with Mr. Wagner, ya hear!”

The other two young men stand next to Rick. He can tell they are anxiously considering whether to join their friends. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, but he can’t help himself. He turns to the young man who told the others about Diamond Carter. “You know the Crater of Diamonds, in Arkansas, isn’t a meteor crater. It’s volcanic.”

The young man looks at Rick, surprised to see someone he doesn’t recognize; someone not from town. “Huh?” He frowns at Rick for attempting to spoil his fun. He runs into the crater yelling, “It’s volcanic!”

Rick calls out to the young man running down the crater’s slope. “I don’t mean this crater is volcanic. This is clearly a meteor impact and I suspect you’ll be seeing more craters like this soon.” Rick looks to the last young man who is contemplating his run into the crater.

The young man pauses. “More craters? What do you mean?” he asks with a frightened expression.

Rick is afraid of sounding like a crazy lunatic, so he chooses his words carefully. “This is the beginning of a massive asteroid bombardment. You need to find protection from the asteroid storm; someplace that will shelter you from the impacts.”

The young man looks at Rick as if he’s speaking Chinese. “You’re fucking crazy, man. You one of those doomsday fanatics? Bomb shelters and shit? Where you from? You ain’t from round here, I knows that.” The young man stares at Rick for a moment. His questions don’t require a response. Rick can tell the guy is trying to sort things in his brain. Then he runs over the edge of the crater and down the slope, calling after his friends. “Leave some a them diamonds for me, assholes!”

Rick realizes that the crater is entertainment for these people. They have no concept of the coming danger. How could they? They will misunderstand anything he says. What he believes is about to happen is beyond most people’s comprehension. Maybe Colonel Cruikshank was right; you can’t warn people. Rick turns away from the crater’s edge and walks to the highway.

Rick walks along the two-lane highway. Inches of dirt cover everything. He can just make out the asphalt ribbon. He surveys the flat, dry landscape surrounding him. The air blast from the meteors impact has laid the trees flat.  Power poles lie like fallen dominoes. Everything, once green, is now brown. It feels good to walk. The air is clearing. It’s a sunny morning. He has renewed confidence and hope. Even if he walks home, he will get there.

Cars whip up clouds of dirt as they pass. The novelty of the crater is waning. They’ve seen what there is to see. It’s a hole in the ground. People go on with their day. A white sedan passes slowly then stops fifty yards ahead. The driver leans over to the passenger side and pushes the door open. 

Rick runs to the open door and looks in to see a thin-faced man with long gray hair. “Need a ride, brother?”

“Sure. Thanks,” Rick says, as he sits in the passenger seat.

The driver sticks out his hand. “I’m Keith. Where you headed?” he says, as the car moves down the highway.

Rick is instantly comfortable. There’s something about the man’s calm presence that sets him at ease. Rick takes the driver’s hand in his own. The grip is strong and warm. “I’m Rick. Thanks for the ride. I’m heading to Los Angeles. Back home to my family,” Rick says.

“Los Angeles? Well, I’m afraid I can’t get you that far. I’m driving to town. I can drop you at the Greyhound AutoBus station. Not sure when the next bus comes through, but you can ask them.” 

Rick considers taking a bus to Los Angeles, but without his band to pay for a ticket, no paper money, and no ID, the bus is not an option. “I’ll just keep hitching rides. Probably faster than waiting for the bus. Thanks, though.”

The driver stares at the narrow highway observing the morning light. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it? Dusty, but beautiful. Did you like the new addition to the local landscape? I guess God figures we need a conversation piece. Gives the townspeople something to gab about.”

Rick fidgets in his seat. The last person he told of the coming disaster ran into a crater. Rick must try again. If he can save lives, it’s his duty to do so. Wasn’t that his argument with the colonel? 

“Keith, I don’t want to frighten you or appear like a weirdo, but please listen to what I am about to tell you.”

Keith wrings his hands on the steering wheel. “Isn’t that how weirdos always start their stories?” Keith laughs. He looks at Rick, who is not laughing. “Sorry, but you stepped into that one. Go ahead. Shoot.”

Rick turns in his seat to face Keith. “I’m an astrophysicist. I work in a lab at Cal Tech. That crater, your new landscape feature, was caused by a meteor falling to Earth from space. The short story is, there will be a lot more meteors. The Earth is entering a period of heavy asteroid bombardment. There will be hundreds, maybe thousands more impacts like that. The entire human race is at risk. We are all in grave danger.” Rick pauses, waiting for Keith’s reaction.

Keith doesn’t say a word; instead he reaches in his pocket, pulls out an old smartphone and hands it to Rick.

“I know. I got the message, just like everyone else. In fact, I received the same message one hundred times or more. Annoying, if you ask me.”

Rick flips through the photos and reads the message. “Thank God. Somebody got the news out about Perth. You say everyone got this message?” He hopes Courtney and Uncle Rob received the message. 

“Yes, everyone. Most likely dozens of times. I thought it might be a hoax until we got our very own crater. The TV news is constantly talking about Perth, but I don’t watch. The wife watches,” Keith explains.

Rick realizes he has a smartphone in his hand. He can call Courtney! He cradles the phone as a prized object. “Do you mind if I use your phone? I need to call my wife. I’ve been out of touch for a few days.”

“Sure. Go right ahead. She must be worried sick.”

Rick pokes at the screen. When he sees digits, he realizes he doesn’t know her number. He usually asks his band or touches his wife’s image to call. Rick speaks a voice command requesting information, but the call does not connect. He tries again. Nothing. He notices a message on the screen: No Service. 

Rick hands the phone back. “No luck?” Keith asks.

“No Service. The blast must have knocked out cell towers. I should have known it wouldn’t work.” 

“Power’s out in town as well.” 

Keith doesn’t seem upset by the news of an asteroid storm which puzzles Rick. Meteors are falling from the sky, there is no power or phone service, yet the man driving the car appears calm.

“Meteors destroyed Perth. You have an impact crater near your town. I have warned you there will be more impacts. Aren’t you afraid?”

Keith smiles peacefully. “Why be afraid? I have faith in God. His will be done. We’re not in control. His landscaping project proves that, don’t you think?”

Rick studies the man who speaks with a tranquil smile and bright blue eyes before replying. “I agree we are not in control, but you can gather supplies, find protection. You can prepare to survive what’s coming. The people at the crater acted like it was an amusement. Come see the big hole. Yep, that’s a big hole, now get home. If everyone got the message about Perth, don’t they understand more destruction is coming?”

“You are certain more meteors will hit?” Keith asks seriously.

“I’m very certain. It would take too much time to explain, but I have it on high authority. Earth and every living creature will suffer over the next several weeks,” Rick states emphatically.

Keith nods. “High authority, eh? I didn’t tell you. I’m the pastor of a church in town. I know a thing or two about high authorities. But you’re right. If there are more coming, I need to help protect church members and townspeople. How do we hide from asteroids?”

“I know a place that should be safe.” Rick looks around at the stark countryside. A town comes into view. There is less dust. The trees are green, houses and buildings are not far off. “What’s the name of your town?”

Keith answers proudly. “Burwell, Nebraska. Population twelve hundred and forty. Your escape to the great outdoors, Calamus Lake, and home of Nebraska’s Big Rodeo.”

“Nebraska?” 

“I realize Nebraska isn’t the glamour spot of the country. Most people pass us by. We kinda like that. Let’s us live in peace.”

The car pulls off the highway onto a road, then down a dirt driveway, coming to a stop in front of a one-story brick house. “You say you know a safe place for our people?”

“Back at the storage facility. There’s a unit with a ladder. You can get hundreds of people down—” 

“Tell you what. Come on in the house. You’ll meet my wife, Haylee. Have some breakfast and tell us all about where we need to get to. Then, we’ll let you go on your way to your family.”

Rick follows Keith into the small house. Haylee works over a gas stove. The two men sit at the kitchen table. She pours coffee and serves up a hearty country breakfast. Rick tells Keith and his wife about the ladder in the storage facility and the rail tunnel below. “The tunnel isn’t wide, but there should be plenty of room.” 

“Getting people together will be difficult with the power out and phones down. We’ll need supplies and provisions. How long you expect we need to stay in the tunnel?”

“This landscaping, as you call it, is just beginning. I don’t believe the main event has started. The bombardment might last a few weeks or a few months. I honestly don’t know. But I am certain the frequency and intensity will grow stronger before it subsides.” Rick stops talking when he notices Keith’s blank stare, which he takes to mean “Just answer the damn question.”

“Plan for a month,” Rick answers succinctly. Keith nods, showing appreciation for the simple answer.

Haylee sets a small plate of food for herself on the table and joins the men. Keith sums up the plan for her. “Honey, all we have to do is convince the townsfolk that rocks will fall from the heavens. They should all climb down a hole and live in a tunnel for the next month.”

“Sounds simple enough, dear.” 

“You know, I feel the lord has put it on my heart to preach a sermon this Sunday on natural disasters. It reminds me of Isaiah 45:7: I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the Lord, who does all these things. More coffee for you, Rick?”

Rick covers his cup with his hand to signal no more coffee. “The sermon sounds wonderful, as long as you promise you’ll be giving it from inside the tunnel.”

“Sunday is just a few days away. We need time to prepare, and with the phones down, it’s the best way to gather the congregation to give them the message.”

“Keith, you can’t wait. More impacts could come without warning. You must find safety. If not for yourself, think of Haylee and your church family,” Rick pleads. 

Haylee stands, taking the plates from the table. “Concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only. It will take you longer to get home than to get the entire town of Burwell down that hole,” says the pastor’s wife.

Keith winks at his wife. “That’s right. Come on. Let’s get you on your way to saving your own family. May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.” Keith leads Rick to an old blue pickup parked under a carport. “Take my truck. She’s old, but she’ll get ya there. The tank’s full. Should get you to Denver before you need to refuel.”

Haylee tucks a wad of one-hundred-dollar bills into Rick’s hand. “This should buy you enough fuel to make it home.”

Rick is grateful. “It’s too much. Are you sure?”

“We’re sure. We’ll be sitting in a hole for the next month, while this old truck is getting blasted to smithereens by space rocks. Better to let you get some use out of it.”

Rick opens the door and climbs into the truck. He puts both hands on the steering wheel and his foot on the brake. The normal process to initialize an older AutoCar. Nothing happens. Rick shakes the steering wheel and gives a voice command. “Start.” Nothing. “Drive to Denver, Colorado.” Again, nothing happens.

He looks around the ancient truck interior. Rick gives Keith a troubled look. Keith reaches into the truck and turns the ignition key. The gas engine starts up and roars with power. “Like I said. She’s old. You still remember how to drive yourself?” 

“Oh, sure. I just. Yes. I can drive myself. It’ll be fun. Like old times.”

Keith uses the hand crank to roll down the window, then closes the truck door. “Just head back out to the 91 East, then south on Highway 183, and follow the signs to Denver. You should be there in about six hours. It’s a ten-hour drive from Denver to Las Vegas, then you’re nearly home. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be holding your wife and kids in your arms.”

“Keith, Haylee your saints. How can I ever thank you?”

“You just saved the whole town. It’s the least we can do to thank you. Drive safe.”

“Now, be sure to give your kids a hug from old Keith and Haylee,” says Haylee.

Rick thanks them again, then drives the old blue pickup out of the carport and down the dirt driveway. Keith and Haylee watch Rick drive down the dusty road until the truck is out of view. 

“It’s a great joy to help another human being. He seemed kind of pushy though about this asteroid situation. It must be that big city stress.”

“He seemed sincere. I’m glad we could help him get home,” Haylee says.

“I’m not so sure about rounding up the townspeople and herding them into a tunnel. Meteors falling from the sky is frightful but moving everyone underground for a month seems like an overreaction.”

“Take it up with the mayor and the police chief. They’ll know what’s best for the town,” Haylee says as she walks back into the house.

Keith looks to the pale blue sky. It’s a beautiful morning. Birds fly from tree to tree. Small butterflies flutter in the soft breeze. Keith is known to take long pauses and gaze in wonder at the beauty of God’s creation. Haylee’s screams from inside the house startle him from his reverie.

“Keith. Keith, oh God. Come see! Oh, dear lord,” Haylee cries.

Keith rushes into the house. “The power’s back on,” mumbles Haylee, as she stands in front of the TV, holding her hands over her face.

Keith freezes as he watches the news report. “An area northeast of Washington, D.C., was struck by a large meteor.” Video streams from a helicopter news crew flying over a huge crater. The immense area of destruction caused by the impact is hard to comprehend.

“The crater is over three miles in diameter, but the damage extends many miles beyond the crater. The epicenter was the town of Laurel, Maryland approximately fifteen miles from Washington, D.C. Everything for miles beyond the crater is buried. The only objects we can identify are buildings tall enough to rise above the deep fallout and whatever lies above the dirt, is burning.”

The helicopter flies away from the crater to Washington, D.C. The cameraman pans over the landscape. Dirt covers everything. The landscape, for miles past the crater, looks like a midwestern town wiped out by a tornado. Pieces of human existence—houses, cars, clothing, and home appliances—are strewn around like trash. 

The news switches to another reporter standing in front of a broken Washington Monument. “The base of this time-honored monument stands, but the top third of the tower has toppled to the ground. Everywhere around me buildings are burning, and two feet of dirt cover the city. The death toll may surpass two hundred thousand.” 

Keith holds Haylee tight and kisses her cheek. Keith speaks softly, staring at the news report. “Rick is right. We need to get the town in that tunnel. I’ll drive to the police station and talk with Chief Harper.”

Haylee stands silently, staring at the TV nods in agreement.