Death of All Life on Earth Iii: Evil Emerges

By Don McComber

Early in the Period of Death, the drug cartels of Central America and northern South America welcomed the millions of people from the north into their gigantic pens from which there was no escape. The pens were dozens of miles on a side; it was hell on earth, as the only thing there was to eat was each other. The gangs survived the apocalypse by trading, killing and eating these millions of victims. And when the captives were gone, the gangs ate each other. But some survived.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Apr 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781698701080

Don McComber

He was born and raised in a tiny prairie town, had a career as a scientist, traveled the world and developed a deep respect for American Heritage. He writes about those exceptional people who risked everything to come to this land of freedom and promise. These are the people who gave their lives to create a new country called America.

Book preview

Copyright 2020 Don McComber.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-1-6987-0109-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6987-0108-0 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Trafford rev.    04/30/2020

21816.png www.trafford.com

North America & international

toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

fax: [phone]

CONTENTS

Preface

Shadbolt

Search

Reunion

Mountains

Prairie

Colony West

Friends

Colony Wars

War In Mexico

Horse Culture

Lost

Epilogue

PREFACE

I n the first book of the series, Death of Life , mismanagement of the war on carbon resulted in a loss of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and the subsequent death of all plants, then herbivores, then carnivores, then mankind. A decade into the Period of Death, a young woman from a North Dakota ranch, and her twin twelve-year-old children started south in search of a sanctuary. They needed to find a place with food and shelter because their ranch was out of food and overrun with mud. On the very first day of their trip south, Mandy’s husband was killed and a little later, she and her children were separated. She spent the better part of the next decade searching for her children. She fought eaters, starvation, and loneliness for years and survived every heartbreaking hardship you can imagine until she finally found them.

The second book Death of Life II tells the tale of the growth and expansion of the tiny survivor colony called Little Paradise in the Black Canyon. The Period of Death led into Bad Times just as the earth started its recovery. Mandy’s youngest son Keith William, born a Mexican desert, and her step son Noah, explore the Denver area for possible relocation of the colony, and kill the gang of men painted like zebras who prey on all they encounter. With the help of a woman, Judy Hertz, whom they rescued along the way, Keith and Noah are able to escape imprisonment and torture, then vanquish the zebra gang only to run into another gang of tyrants that control a large women’s colony. After they free the women, they travel to the outlying colonies of Peetz, Torrington, and Hill City to try to consolidate them into one large colony on the west edge of Denver. Along the way they encounter starvation, a gang of eaters and killer weather. Finally though, they had rid their world of bandits, eaters and thugs and had settled down to a period of peace and tranquility. They thought!

Death of Life III continues the story starting with the struggle of a young woman of the prairie, Mary Shadbolt. She had to leave her tiny, failing colony so the younger ones would have enough food to survive a little longer. Her story of survival provided the Colony of the West with needed inspiration. But the emerging issue was that not all surviving colonies were of free men and women working together for a better life; there were a number that used fear, slavery and intimidation. Early in the Period of Death, the drug cartels of Central America and northern South America welcomed the millions of people from the north into their gigantic pens from which there was no escape. The pens were dozens of miles on a side; it was hell on earth, as the only thing there was to eat was each other. The gangs survived the apocalypse by trading, killing and eating these millions of victims. And when the captives were gone, the gangs ate each other. But some survived. Will the freemen of Little Paradise and other colonies of the prairie unite and fight the slave colonies, or will they perish?

SHADBOLT

S he walked straight south on the old highway from Peetz. She knew not where she was going; but she did know she was leaving all she had ever known behind, and that wasn’t much. She was born over a dozen years into the Period of Death and never had seen a green plant; she had never known anything but starvation, strife and suffering. Her little colony of survivors had lived from the giant granaries and had been able to drive all those who would take their food supply, away. But the world of death that surrounded them didn’t recover quickly enough to keep them alive and slowly they starved or died from the scurvy. Repeatedly, the last few years the older folks had to walk away to a certain death in the countryside so there would be more food for the younger ones. The colony had dwindled down to twelve and it was her turn, at age 21, to leave so the others could live a little longer.

Mary Shadbolt could barely remember her own Mother, who had patiently taught her to write in coherent sentences so she could take over the entries in the sacred diary. She was weak, but walked stridently into the warm sunshine of spring, singing All Creatures of Our God and King, (Assisi circa 1225) as she went. In the time before the Period of Death, everything would have been turning green, plants would be sprouting from the ground and the leaves would be bursting on the trees. But now, there was no growth, all the ground was bare just like a desert. Erosion from the rain and floods as well as the wind had covered everything with dried mud or dust. What trees there had been were long gone and most of the buildings had been covered with dust that turned to mud when it rained. Layer on layer of dust and mud finally caused most of them to collapse and become buried. Mary knew that if she dug into these mounds, she could find utensils, tools and clothing that could help her survive. But, it was food she needed. She carried a large knife, several changes of clothing and a good lightweight sleeping bag.

The flowers and fruits that in thee grow, let them His glory also show, Mary continued. She was praying and singing as she went. It was only her first day out from Peetz, and she was now hopeful that she could survive. If she could make it to the river valley twenty miles or so to the south, maybe there would be some roots she could dig in some low spot. It had been a long day and she could see the edge of the river valley ahead. She again prayed from the oldest hymn she knew, And thou most kind and gentle death, waiting to hush our latest breath. The sun was just above the western horizon as she reached the crest of the river valley. At first she didn’t believe her eyes and questioned what she saw. Down in the river valley ahead of her she could see dozens of patches of pure green. She stood and stared. Praise, praise the Father and the Son.

Mary found a low place filled with soft dirt that had been warmed by the Spring sun and snuggled down into it half covering her sleeping bag, for a good night’s sleep; tomorrow she should be able to find something to eat. During the night, she started having abdominal cramps again from the lack of food. She tried to drink water to alleviate the pains, but they persisted until morning. When she rose, she was so weak and disoriented she didn’t know which way to go to find food. Her vision was blurred so badly she couldn’t trust herself. She fell and sobbed and wiped her eyes trying to clear them. She was so close to survival, God just give me one more hour, she pleaded. But it was not to be, Mary tried repeatedly to rise and each time could not maintain her balance and fell. She continued to pray and cry, but finally gave up and resigned herself to death. Be gentle God and let me come to you without pain. You know we have all lived in hell and now it’s time to go on to heaven. As she closed her eyes, she could feel the warm sun shining on her face and the pain in her abdomen vanished.

There were a half dozen surviving colonies spread across the southern part of what had been the United States. They were all made up of people that had found them by chance during the Period of Death in a mad search for some way to survive. Nearly all of the people had come from the north and had been separated from their loved ones somewhere along the way. Some had left their people and gone south searching for a place of sanctuary planning to return to get them, and were unable to comply. Others had started south with their families only to become separated and were struggling to return to some pre-agreed location for rendezvous. When the earth started its recovery, there were dozens of people, mostly men, who found themselves wanting to go back north and find their loved ones. They needed to establish once and for all, whether or not their families survived. John Pierson had left his family in their farm home in Nebraska more than a decade before searching for a place of safety to which he could take them. When he stumbled into the colony in Galveston, he had given up on survival, but as the years slipped by, and the world started its recovery, he had to know one way or the other about his wife and kids. He had started north in early spring, and followed the greening of the plants north with the warm weather. He was in no hurry and realized that he had to stay with the growth or starve. When he crossed the fresh tracks of someone up on the north crest of the South Platte River Valley, he was startled. He sat and studied the tracks and could tell it was a small person in homemade moccasin style footwear. They were taking short strides and wandered left and right in a kind of unsteady gait. They could not be far away. But he couldn’t stop; he had less than a hundred miles left in his quest. It was late in the afternoon and he should have found a spot to spend the night, but he decided to follow the tracks.

When he came across the body lying in a low place facing the south, the first thing he noticed was the person’s sunburn. To sunburn, you had to be alive. He got down on his knees and leaned his ear down to the person’s face and could hear a faint breath. It was a young woman, a very pretty young woman. But this was neither the time nor place for romance. At first he spoke softly to her with no response. Then he patted her on the cheek and spoke a little louder. Wake up ma’am. She smiled, but still did not open her eyes.

I’m no ma’am, she said.

Wake up Miss.

That’s a little better, and she opened her eyes and looked directly into a pair of piercing blue eyes framed by a head of curly auburn hair. She had never seen a man without a full beard and hair down to his shoulders, but this one with short hair, a smooth face and sensuous lips was devastating. She felt her heart jump and her skin tingle, but she hid her reaction. She was able to focus and said in a startled voice, Who the hell are you?

I’m John Pierson Miss, and I’m on my way to Valentine Nebraska to find my family.

The only colonies to survive in the whole area were either in Lincoln or Peetz, she replied. I don’t know where Valentine is, but if it’s not close to Lincoln, you are wasting your time. The colony in Peetz is nearly dead. That’s where I’m from.

I’ve come all the way from Galveston to find out if they survived and will not give up now madam.

I’m not a madam either; my name is Mary Shadbolt the last living person from five generations of pioneers.

Pierson had a bag of clover that he put into a small pot and warmed the whole thing over a small fire. Mary ate slowly and had dizzy spells off and on throughout the evening. When her hunger seemed to be sated, she tried to listen to Pierson’s story, but went to sleep and breathed in deep and regular breaths. As the fire burned out, Pierson sat and watched her face in the flickering light and became infatuated with the sturdy young woman. But he slapped his own cheek and said, Wake up dummy, you’re married.

Pierson figured he was just about at the northern extreme of the green zone because of the stunted nature of the green growth, so he decided to stay with Mary and get her settled in a survivable situation before he went on north. On the southern crest of the river valley, he had noticed in the low places scattered signs of domestic vegetable plants just beginning to get some good growth on them. He discussed his situation with Mary and they both agreed that it would be good if he stayed and helped her find a survivable spot and find or build a solid, warm hut in which she could live. He also told her of the signs of domestic vegetables he had seen on the other side of the river valley and figured that would be a good place for her to make her stand. Then he would return if he could, as he would know where to find her. She was infatuated to the core with the man and even though he was much older, she said she would wait for him to return, one way or the other. So, they found a good spot on the south facing side of a steep arroyo up away from the drainage down the middle, but next to enough grass that they could use to build a sturdy sod hut. Most of the time there would be at least a trickle of water within yards of her hut, and even during the dry months of early fall, she could find water down hill in the creek. Most importantly, she had a good patch of clover and a large stand of cattails down at the bottom of the hill. In the low ground around the cattails, large flocks of geese were moving in and if she could learn to kill them, they would be her source of protein.

During the years they were together, it was obvious the two were attracted to each other. The facts that Pierson may have a wife and children and that he fathered dozens of children at the Galveston Colony, didn’t bother Mary a bit. This was her very first contact with someone with whom she could feel close, and she was not going to spoil it with jealous ideas. She loved to watch him every third evening as he took out his straight razor, stropped it on his leather belt, and with a small cup of water, carefully shaved his whiskers. He had a pair of small scissors and used them to trim any unruly curls that seemed to grow more rapidly that the rest of his head hair. He did it without a mirror and usually to the flickering light of a dwindling evening fire. Her heart melted when she watched the man, but she knew that number one, his wife might still be alive, and number two, he would probably never return. So don’t let your heart go all a flutter, She told herself. Now she knew, the intense emotions depicted in many of the romance novels she had read, were real.

They finally finished the little one room sod hut and had used sheets of plastic on the roof and walls to protect the structure from washing away with the rain. It had a small hole in the peaked top to let out smoke from the stone lined hearth in the center. They were close enough to the nearest town, which they guessed was Sterling Colorado, that Mary could strip wood from the ramshackle buildings for firewood. They had assembled a collection of utensils and tools that would help her survive in bad weather. She didn’t know it at the time but it was the cattails and geese that would keep her alive, and she would gradually grow to dislike the taste of both. John taught her how to shoot the compound bow they found in one of the collapsed homes of the forlorn little town. She wasn’t a very good shot for many months, but didn’t have to be. The geese were so comfortable and fat, they let her walk right up to them and sometimes all it took was a long shovel handle to do the job. But it was meat and she knew it was necessary for her survival.

The day finally arrived when John said his goodbye and walked off to the northeast. She watched him for a while and when he crested the hill at the horizon, he turned and waved and shouted something she couldn’t understand. She waved back and yelled, I love you. After it had slipped from her mouth, she was glad that he probably couldn’t hear it. Summer was just starting and everything in the low places that had been filled with sediment during the Period of Death was growing like mad. The soil there was so rich and loaded with seeds, she could see new plants exploding from the soil almost daily. It was something with which she never became accustomed. Days passed slowly and she was consumed in preparing for winter. She killed several geese each week and noticed that something was dragging away or eating the innards she left where she killed them. It was odd, because there had been no large animals around for decades, but now it was probably the coyotes that had come north with the greening of the countryside. As long as they left her alone, there would be no problem.

Late one day in the fall of that year she was sitting on the top of the adjacent hill watching the sunset, when she saw a small pack of coyotes trot across below her. They had become accustomed to eating the offal from the geese she killed and began following her when she had her bow with her knowing that an easy meal was coming. When she saw them, she stood and yelled, Hello friends. They stopped and stared at her not knowing what was happening with this strange animal; then went on their way. They had become dependent on the plethora of geese that were also following the greening of the landscape northward. When they turned and trotted away, Mary sat back down and thought of her brief encounter with the man John Pierson and wondered what ever happened to him. It had been months since he left and he surely had time to come back, something must have happened, and she hoped it wasn’t bad. If she looked to the far west, she could see the setting sun shining off the mountains and wondered if that was there the colonies of survivors were located. She told herself, she would give it a year for the man John Pierson to return, then she would set out to the west to try to find some other humans. A year went by and she had become so comfortable with her life, she thought to give it another.

Over the years, she had made several trips back to Peetz to retrieve some of her books. The last time she visited the big grain silo and the rundown buildings there, she noticed the sacred diary had disappeared. Someone had been there and taken it, but she had no idea from where or to where they were bound. It had been the explorers from Little Paradise that had taken the diary, and they had read her entries. One of them even speculated that she may have survived, but the issue was then forgotten. She also foraged through the small towns around and it was usually books that she took back to her hut. Mary slowly had become a hermit; one of the coyotes had befriended her and even slept inside the hut each night. She spoke to the animal constantly and it followed her faithfully, but never let her touch him. She called him Jeremiah. It was a small male that had been driven from the pack, so she gave it friendship and it gave her an extra pair of eyes and ears plus a very sensitive nose that she would need.

SEARCH

J ohn Pierson