Petriclysm

By Amanda Ross

At precisely 7:30pm on September the 23rd, Hazel Lewis and Nick Webber witness the crash landing of a 747 in downtown Seattle. The city falls into an uneasy silence. When their parents fail to come home that night, Hazel and Nick break curfew, leaving Anvac, a small community where they have been forced to live since refusing a government-issued vaccination.

Embarking on a cross-country adventure where people are left to survive any way they can, Hazel, Nick and a few friends they meet along the way try to unravel how a one-world government could turn billions of people to stone.

Avoiding pernicious Sweepers and other lethal agents out to cause them harm along the way, Hazel, Nick and their friends ultimately must decide whether or not to eliminate those who rule the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098356897

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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN: 978-1-09835-688-0 (print)

ISBN: 978-1-09835-689-7 (eBook)

To my students who always encourage me to

write more. This one’s for you.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Epilogue

Prologue

September 23

Chaos. Turned. Order. That’s how it all started. One minute I’m in school trying to stay awake in class and the next minute they’re sending me home. Why? What’s happening? I didn’t have a chance to really ask these questions. Not until I walked through the door of my home and saw my parents sitting around the table, both their heads were stooped in quiet, intense conversation. My dad was never home this early. Was he sent home, too? And my mom, was she off from the hospital today?

Even after a few months I still didn’t have any answers. The news was on a repeating loop saying the same thing day in and day out. Even alternative news sources couldn’t give me much more information. It was mostly speculation and attempts at fixing the problem. Isolation seemed to be the best cure, but intense, extended isolation made the cure worse than the disease to put it mildly—even the most introvert-hardy have a limit as to how much alone time is too much. Then they took away our holidays and asked us to give up more of our autonomy for the sake of the vulnerable. I laugh. It’s always for the children and now they’re just expanding their reach, but since when have I benefited? I’m glad I have my parents. I don’t have any siblings. The tax on an extra child was too much at the time my parents would have considered one. Now, siblings are a rarity and only the richest of the rich can afford more than two children. Population control, environmental issues, yadda yadda yadda.

Eventually I got to go back to school but was sent home several weeks later. Again. And now? I don’t go to school at all. They won’t let me even though the majority of the population is now free to do so. I can’t go to the movies. I can’t leave Anvac. That’s where we eventually moved after things started settling down into what the authorities called, The New Norm. My parents had to give up our house and most of our belongings. We were instructed to take only the bare necessities. They took our phones and our computers. I was allowed to keep my old iPod, an ancient bricklike thing that can only play music. Sometimes I feel like I’m living in the Dark Ages. Maybe I am.

Every night at precisely 9pm they cut off our power. It doesn’t come on again until 6am half an hour before all the adults jump on buses and head to work. The old yellow school buses now army green wait just inside the gates each morning for them. My parents work a 10-hour shift in some kind of factory before being bused home. I don’t know exactly what they do. They’re kind of vague about the whole thing and don’t like to talk about it. I guess I will find out when I come of age and have to work for my own food rations.

Me? I get to stay home all day. It’s not quite the vacation it sounds like. Even though I found high school dull, it was definitely more entertaining for a 16-year-old than wandering the two rooms my family now occupies. I stay inside most of the time. It’s safer not getting too familiar with others. I mainly try diverting attention from my growling stomach or the fact that I am now able to count my ribs; I stay busy doing things that don’t require a lot of energy. We subsist on government rations which are never enough, especially for a growing teenager. Thankfully, I don’t think I’m going to grow much more. Short people unite! was my rallying cry at school when someone brought my height to my attention. Like, gee, thanks I had no idea I was short. [Insert eyeroll here.]

Anyway, I spend much of my time trying to keep our apartment clean which isn’t hard, document as much as I can here, and read books from the library. When the government created Anvac they accidentally included a public library within the fences. They only realized their mistake after it was fenced in and never bothered to remove the books or block us from entering the building. We have a self-appointed librarian who helps us find useful things to read using a very old card cataloguing system. I mostly read books on survival, how to live off the land, how to build a shelter, and so on. They’re some of my favorites. Why these books in particular? I’m planning for my future; our future. A future where we’re able to leave the city. It really is daydreaming at this point, but one can never be too prepared.

Who are the we in all of this? Well, me—Hazel—16, my mom and dad, and my best friend Nick, who’s 17, and his dad. When I first arrived in Anvac, I would walk along the perimeter fence looking out into the rest of the city where I used to live. I liked to stare up at the tall buildings surrounding us and watch the reflection of the sky in their brilliant windows. The sun shining back, the clouds skimming from one building to the next. Anvac was blocked on all four sides so seeing the sun happened at noon and in reflections. As I walked the fence, I always hoped that a friend from school would happen by and tell me what was going on in the rest of the world, but then I remembered my last few weeks at school and decided to give up. Some people walked the perimeter of the fence at night to try and gather news, hiding in the shadows as far from the front gates and watching eyes of the guards as possible. I didn’t know how difficult it would be to live without knowing what’s going on in the world. I took for granted the ability to access information anytime I wanted. Same with a lot of things actually.

It was on one of my walks along the fence when I saw Nick coming from the opposite direction looking for his friends. It was exciting and kind of sad for both of us to discover we were on the same side of the fence. We’ve been more or less inseparable since. I know he still walks the perimeter sometimes hoping his mom will come and find him. But she doesn’t and she won’t. I can always tell when he’s been out looking again. The rejection is sometimes hard to hide.

Since no newspapers are allowed into our small community and no one owns a TV or radio we get news from covert operations within Anvac. Turns out a lot of the citizens are quite resourceful. The information is then passed from one person to the next telephone-style, but by the time it reaches our house I’m never quite sure whether to believe it or not. Sometimes we hear about wars around the world or outbreaks in other cities. We even heard about a new government—a government that erased all borders—yeah, right.

Sometimes people escape Anvac but are eventually brought back. If they try again, the authorities roll in a mobile guillotine and execute the individual in the center of Anvac. It’s quite primitive if you ask me. And gruesome. I always avert my eyes since we are forced to attend. It’s meant to be a deterrent to those of us living here. Sometimes it does the opposite, though, and those desperate enough to leave this life volunteer for a quick exit.

Once I found a newspaper rolled up and stuck through the chain link fence on the backside of Anvac. It was so well hidden that I’m sure it was meant for someone else to find. I read the headline: First President of the World Elected. Wait? What? They were right? I didn’t know what to make of what I was reading so I rolled it back up and replaced it. I told my parents about finding the newspaper and the headline later that day and they swore me to secrecy that I wouldn’t tell anyone I had seen it; that I wouldn’t repeat what the headline said. I asked if they ever saw the news when they were at work. Both of them turned away and remained silent.

I still have hope and so does Nick that things will eventually get better, that maybe our rations will be increased, or that they’ll simply let us leave. We like to dream of such things, it’s why we read and why our parents encourage us to learn as much as we can about life in the country and about our history. If we don’t have hope, we have nothing. And for the record, I am getting out of here one day.

Chapter 1

The kids of Anvac gathered near the gates trickling in by ones, twos, and threes a little after six to await the arrival of the adults returning from work. This nightly ritual was punctuated with hushed conversations between small groups of friends and even smaller pairs of siblings. A lone group of three siblings—the only one of its kind in the community—stood a little apart from the others. The oddity of their existence and the palpable envy at the obvious former wealth these three represented kept them from mingling with the larger crowd even though they were now all equals. A growing air of expectancy and impatience for the meager meals that would follow permeated the atmosphere as time marched slowly toward their parents’ arrival. The crowd paused at intervals to listen intently for the tell-tale sound of buses rumbling down the vacant streets.

Wending his way through the cumulating throng, Nick saw Hazel casually walking toward the bus stop to wait for her parents. He waved as he spotted her across the street trying to get her attention, her long reddish-brown hair swaying from side to side, her full lips slightly pursed in concentration as her dark brown eyes scanned faces. Nick, once very muscular, was tall and lean like a willowy beanpole. He could easily see over most of the heads of the growing group, his shaggy dark hair added a punctuation mark to his height. He successfully caught Hazel’s eye with his dark blue gaze, and she threaded through several small groups to join Nick on the opposite side.

Hey Hazel, he smiled broadly, his left front tooth missing its corner. No buses, yet? It was 6:30pm and the buses should have been rumbling down the street arriving in Anvac. They usually ran right on time. Timeliness was part of the new order. Having heard the phrase Time is Money often enough it wasn’t surprising that a government would keep to a strict schedule.

Haven’t seen them, she smiled back warmly glancing toward the closed gates. "I hope they get here soon. I’m starving and can’t wait to be a little less starving. She said this last with as much sarcasm as she could muster. He understood the sentiment and his stomach growled in agreement. He chuckled at the sad truth. Neither of them really thought there would be enough to eat again and counted on the fact that as things settled more into the New Norm" there would eventually be even less. They stood there waiting, occasionally shifting weight from one leg to the other watching the guard shacks on either side of the fence for movement. Whenever the buses arrived the guards would go out and open the gates to let them in and then wait until all passengers were unloaded and the buses had driven out again before closing them. Nick and Hazel could see shadows moving inside the shacks, but the windows were tinted so not much more could be seen.

More youngsters showed up at the bus stop waiting for their parents to get home. As the arrival continued to be delayed more kids arrived. Some who normally waited inside the confines of their small apartments shyly gathered with the others. By seven the size of the group had doubled. Conversation had dwindled to a bare minimum; words were used sparingly as minutes marched on. The guards still made no move toward opening the gates.

Where are they? asked a little girl in a thin t-shirt with a faded picture of a rainbow and frayed jeans several inches too short. A shrug came from the boy she addressed, a little taller than she in clothing even more worn. The group remained quiet, but the tension was growing. Hazel observed the group. Here were kids of all ages quietly waiting for their parents. No playing, no fighting, no crying. All of them painfully thin in shabby clothes calmly waiting for three green buses to arrive. They learned early on the rules for waiting at the gates. If they misbehaved the guards would punish them. Some guards were nicer than others and would admonish them with a warning, other guards gave no warning and unleashed pent up anger through the liberal use of nightsticks. And now, after months of rations, the kids had no extra energy to play or fight or even cry. They simply waited.

Pariahs thought Hazel, looking around again We’ve all been marooned. She smiled remembering how she used to yell Maaaarrrroooonnnned just like her friend’s parrot did whenever it was left alone in a room. I wonder if that crazy bird is still alive.

Eventually every child in Anvac was standing at the gates. Hazel recognized a few faces but didn’t know any names. Even though the community was relatively small, no one talked much. There wasn’t much community in the community. Just like communist countries or Hitler’s Germany, they’d learned in the early months of Anvac that the less people knew about one another the better.

The anxiety and restlessness were growing. Seven twenty-nine and still no buses could be heard coming; the guards could no longer be seen in their shacks. The sun had already set and purple streaks painting the sky were all that remained of the day. The power would go out in little more than an hour and a half and then the only visible light came from the higher windows of the buildings surrounding Anvac. Useless for anything. The streetlights had kicked on, enveloping the silent crowd in an orange glow, the buzz amplified in the stillness.

Nick nudged Hazel and beckoned her away from the crowd, now swollen to about 100 kids of all ages. Once they were some paces away from the group he said in a hoarse whisper, Listen. He looked back over his shoulder at the group, No, seriously. Listen. What do you hear? She paused, cocked her ear toward the city and away from the mumbling crowd.

Nothing, really, maybe a few cars idling in the distance? The buzzing streetlights? Hazel responded with a look of confusion. Then several things happened at once, cars in nearby intersections sounded like they were colliding one right after the other. In an instant, a distant drone became a deafening roar overhead. The scraping of metal bounced off the tall buildings around them. Everyone looked up just in time to see the underside of a 747-passenger plane flying overhead, its right-wing disintegrating as it skimmed the side of the nearest skyscraper sending sparks showering over Anvac. Kids automatically ducked and shielded their heads, then looked once more at the tail of the plane as it cleared the gate. In seconds the sickening crunch of the plane colliding with a building directly in its flight path resounded through the empty streets. A deep sienna-orange, black edged, cracking fireball burst into the sky like an immense thunderhead momentarily blinding the audience. A moment later soundwaves roiled over the stunned group with a flicker of heat that rustled untamed stands of hair like a warm breeze on a summer night. All the kids looked toward the explosion and then chaos ensued. They scattered to all points of Anvac crying and screaming, some attempted to open the gates forgetting about the guards in their fear, most running for home before more disaster could strike. Then all was silent. The typical city noises—cars driving, horns honking, air brakes discharging—the general hum that one typically tunes out was gone. No cars were passing by on invisible streets, no more planes flying overhead, nothing. And, ominously, no sirens rushing to greet the downed plane.

Hazel, I don’t think the buses are coming, Nick grabbed her hand leading her, snaking his way through the oncoming rush of bodies toward his apartment.

Chapter 2

All through the night there was silence followed by more silence. After a couple of hours Nick suggested they go outside to try and ascertain information that might help them find their parents. It was obvious that the stillness bothered Nick. Even though he didn’t much care for the city noises, the absence of them was much more troubling.

Hazel grabbed the raggedy green sweatshirt she’d worn to the bus stop and pulled it over her head, running hands through static-y hair to catch the fly aways and then, by habit, gathering the long tendrils into a loose ponytail. She quietly followed Nick down the steps and out into the cool night air, their movements furtive and hesitant. They moved from shadow to shadow trying to go unnoticed by the kids who may be watching from their apartments or who also may have broken curfew.

It felt weird to be out after curfew. Nick looked left and right to double check that there weren’t any guards. None were visible and the gates were still shut tight. Yet another aspect of all this weirdness. There were usually sentries posted at the gate each night to ensure that the citizens of Anvac stayed put; they would patrol the streets at random to keep people on guard. Nick and Hazel made their way to the tallest building within the fence. It was only five stories high, but from the roof more of the city was visible. There seemed to be fires all over the city, but still no noise. No sirens, no cars, no planes flying. No one, except them, even alert to the fact that something was wrong. Nothing but the streetlights in the city and some in the buildings were on. The power in Anvac had gone off at nine. At least some things were still working like they should.

What do you think is going on? Nick asked. Hazel jumped at the sound of his voice in the silence.

I really don’t know, she whispered back. Where are our parents? They didn’t come home. Do you think they’re okay?

Who can tell, he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. Maybe we should find out. I know of a weak spot in the fence that’s easy to get under.

Are you serious? What about the authorities? What if we get caught? Hazel’s dark eyes narrowed with worry, then widened in excitement at the possibility. She tried hard to remind herself of the consequences of breaking the rules but was giddy with the thought of leaving Anvac.

I don’t think we have to worry about the authorities right now, he said, looking toward the guard shacks for any sign of life. Although the shacks were kept dark at night, the usual glow of a cellphone could be seen. Tonight, nothing. He peered over the side of the building and could see shadows moving. Look, he said quietly, pointing. Hazel snuck up next to him. She could barely make out three small dark shapes walking to the fence that ran beside the back wall of the building. They watched as one of the shapes found an opening in the chain-link fence where someone had cut it sometime in the past. It was so cleverly hidden that only those who knew it was there could see it. The other two shapes ducked under, the third following then slipping out into the night. It was that easy.

Well, Nick started, we aren’t the only ones with a similar idea. What do you say? Want to leave Anvac?

Hazel smiled broadly, Yes! Let’s go! So where should we start? She looked back at the spot where the three shapes had slipped out.

First, we should gather what we can take with us. Like food, clothes, matches.

Matches?

"Well, yeah, you know, stuff like that. Things that might be very important to have, just in case.

In case of what? she cut him off.

In case of whatever may be happening out there. We have absolutely no idea what’s going on and I want to be prepared. Like they taught in Boy Scouts. You know the motto ‘Be prepared.’ I mean, I was just shy of becoming an Eagle Scout before the Great Wave, he grinned.

And you read too many post-apocalyptic books, Hazel gave playfully.

Well, and that, too. But you don’t have any room to talk either—Miss I’m-Going-to-Live-on-a-Farm, he needled her in the side. She jerked to the side and stifled a laugh being highly ticklish. So…bring what we need, but not too much? We should be light on our feet. We’re just going to find out what’s going on. We might come straight back here. I really don’t know, he stood. Hazel followed him back down to the street.

They got back to Nick’s apartment where he filled a small black backpack with useful items including all the food rations he still had on hand and a box of waterproof matches. Even with all of the food, Nick’s backpack was still relatively empty and light. He only had one thick sweatshirt and a raincoat that he threw in just in case, changing into his least worn pair of sneakers, and a dark blue trucker’s hat for good measure. Hazel liked the hat; it was an added touch of incognito. At her apartment, she grabbed essentially the same things, a light blanket, her journal, a hippie book with a pencil drawing of a girl on the front called Living on the Earth and three ballpoint pens just in case. Nick raised his eyebrows at the book and Hazel shrugged; he has his fiction; she had her how to live eco-friendly reading material. Then they slept. Nick on the couch.

Nick couldn’t fall asleep, being excited at the prospect of leaving Anvac and simply being worried about his dad, so after some time he went and roused Hazel. She was already awake, just waiting for him to get up. Before setting out they sat down for the largest meal they’d consumed in months. Even though this final meal in Anvac, as Nick termed it, used up a lot of their rations it was better starting out on full stomachs with energy and it felt really good to have eaten enough for once.

Light was barely entering the sky as Nick led the way to the far side of Anvac where the fence was easy to pull up. Hazel ducked under as Nick held the fence, pushed his bag through and followed. They were now both outside of Anvac for the first time in 18 months. Hazel took a deep breath, even the air felt freer. Hazel wanted to dance and run and skip and shout at the sheer exhilaration of being outside Anvac. But she refrained, they still had no idea what was going on. So, they proceeded with caution staying close to the buildings and walking as noiselessly as possible. The city was silent, unmoving with the exception of random buildings still on fire scattered throughout the city. Smoke was starting to accumulate at the street level, cutting down on visibility.

Several large pieces of debris from the crashed 747 littered the sleeping streets. It was a fresh reminder that something was very wrong. The charred pieces, most likely from the wing, had a sobering effect on Hazel. Between the accumulating smoke and plane debris, her mind wandered to the people who’d lost their lives, wondering how many more may have been affected by whatever was going on. She still relished the thought of being away from Anvac, but what was the price of her burgeoning freedom? An awareness that something much more serious and maybe much more dangerous going on grew to full wakefulness inside. Her thoughts turned to her parents. Where were they? And with that, all excitement at newfound freedom vanished.

Nick understood Hazel’s first reaction to being on the other side of the fence, but he’d quickly reined it in. He was deeply concerned with getting to the bottom of everything before celebrating. No matter what, something—something BIG—had happened. What could cause a city to simply stop? Not the grid, the people. The first thing he’d noticed was the lack of people walking down the streets. Usually, the hustle and bustle of the early morning would permeate the atmosphere. Buses going from stop to stop, individuals looking down at their phones while intuitively avoiding other pedestrians. But today? Nothing.

Hazel kept quiet, her eyes darting now to different points along the street looking for anything that could account for the stillness. A few times she thought she saw individuals peeking out of curtained windows in apartment buildings, but she couldn’t be sure. A cat raced out from behind a bush and she jumped, nearly letting out a scream. Her heart pounding long after the fright. Where was everybody?

About three blocks from Anvac, they came to a large intersection where several cars were smoldering in the middle, obviously having collided. The bodies of the drivers were still sitting behind the wheels. It looked as if no one had even made a move to get out or to help. Nick started looking around a little more and pointed to the other cars sitting at the lights. Each car was pushing on the one in front of it in succession, indicating which two lanes had a green light at the time whatever it was happened. The cars were kept in place by the wrecked vehicles in the intersection. Drivers who had been at red lights were still waiting, feet steadfastly locked on brakes, immobile. Every driver regardless of direction was still behind their respective wheels. Not a single driver had attempted to get out. Some vehicles were still idling while others appeared to have run out of gas. Nick looked toward the next intersection and could make out through the haze the same scene repeating itself. It was most likely the same across the city. All the streets were packed. It had happened during rush hour. He walked up to the nearest car and tapped on the window. The driver made no movement. After a couple of tries, Nick lifted the door handle. It was locked so he moved on to the