Virgis

By Sara F. Hathaway

“Fighting for freedom doesn’t always require violence... This country was founded upon principles and laws to unite unique peoples under one system. There’s always an alternative to violence.”

After the Great Quake devastates global infrastructure, defense contractor Cole Virgis and his team attempt to restore order to the chaos. Tasked to assist displaced survivors by moving them into FEMA camps, Cole realizes these Americans are becoming second-class citizens. Torn between his commitment to helping people and following the government’s tyrannical orders, Cole returns home to Peach Springs, Arizona, to avoid the issue and lie low. When disaster strikes again, and he becomes a climate refugee, Cole must decide where his loyalties lie.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara F. Hathaway
• Release date: May 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215790793

Sara F. Hathaway

Author Sara F. Hathaway is an individual with an insatiable urge for learning. She grew up in the woods of Michigan, fishing, hunting, gardening, canning, and horseback riding with her family. She loved to learn about the stories of times past from her great grandparents and grandparents. She learned about a time much different from our own when a trip to the grocery store was not all it took to make sure your family was fed. She delighted in the outdoors and learning how to survive there without the trappings of modern life.After moving to the rural mountain landscape of California, she attended The California State University of Sacramento and graduated with a bachelor’s degree in General Business Management. She managed many businesses, all while working on the manuscript for her fictional novel, Day After Disaster. Eventually she realized that her passion for the outdoors and learning about survival techniques outweighed her passion for the business world. She took her marketing skills and applied them to launching a successful platform for her first novel, Day After Disaster and its sequel, Without Land.Sara still lives in Northern California with her husband and two sons where she is at work on The Changing Earth Series. She delights in helping other authors find the same marketing success and enjoys her time that she gets to spend honing her survival skills while teaching these skills to her sons.

Book preview

One

"I thought you said you lived alone?" a woman asked Cole Virgis.

He stood at a table in the farmers market in the small town of Peach Springs, Arizona. His smooth face was freshly shaven, and his camel pants and t-shirt were crisp and sharp. I do. Store-bought tomatoes never taste as good as fresh tomatoes, Cole said with a smile.

You don’t like white tomatoes? she asked. Her spindly red hair fell about her face as she placed the bushel of tomatoes into a box for him.

He chuckled in response.

That’s still a lot of spaghetti, she commented when he was quiet.

If I can them, I can have quality sauces all year long, Cole replied.

The woman smiled curiously. You do your own canning?

There’s plenty you don’t know about me, Ginger, Cole commented with a flirtatious smile.

Her freckles highlighted her beautiful face as she blushed a deep red. That will be thirty-five dollars.

Here you are. He held out his hand, savoring the soft touch of her skin as she took the money. I’ll see you next week.

You’re going to be in town that long? she asked, pushing a wisp of red hair behind her ear.

Cole smelled her fresh scent in the breeze. So far, that’s the plan. Thanks, Ginger.

Anytime, Cole, she replied, watching him go.

Cole returned to a wooden cart he pulled into town. He enjoyed the two-mile walk home. It allowed him to observe the neighborhood and get to know his community better.

Pushing the white picket gate open, he traversed the concrete path around the back of his home. He took the box out of the cart and entered through the back door.

The quiet of the home filled his ears as he crossed the space to the kitchen. He reached for two large pots and pulled on the faucet to fill them. The noise of the running water did little to quell the silence of the home. He went to the living room, grabbed the remote, and turned on the TV. Clicking on the volume button, he turned it up loudly. It was an emergency broadcast discussing the severe rains pounding the Rocky Mountains. Images of cars buried in the flood water and homes being washed away filled the screen.

He listened to the stories of the survivors as he descended a flight of stairs into an underground store room. Entering the room on the left, he picked up a cleaning kit and three rifles off the wall.

Returning to the stairs, he watched as the reporter described a massive series of tornadoes hitting the plains. Cole looked at the TV as he placed the rifles on the table on a cloth. A vast swath of the United States had been leveled by the tornado. The images of the damage flashed on the screen as he went to check the water. It was boiling, so Cole put a couple handfuls of tomatoes into one of them and began dipping the jars into the other.

He absent-mindedly watched the story about a new tax tariff on lumber as he sanitized each jar. Before long, the tomato skins were splitting. Pulling them out of the water, he put them in cold water and added more tomatoes to the boiling water. He turned to the sink, skinning the warm ones while watching the news discuss the emergency powers the FEMA board would be allowed to exercise in this national emergency. He chopped up each tomato as the skin left it and put them in the sanitized jars he had lined up on the counter.

He carried on this way until all the tomatoes had taken their turn in the boiling water and the jars were full. Putting another small pan of water on the stove, he warmed each lid before carefully applying it with the collar. Then he boiled the full jars in the large pot he had sanitized them in.

Sitting down at the table, he set to clean one of the rifles while he waited for the appropriate time. The TV programming went to a commercial as his phone began ringing. Looking down at the bright screen, Dwayne McClintock’s ID appeared.

Cole pushed the button, declaring, This is Cole Virgis.

Virgis, I got a contract for you. Your flight leaves first thing in the morning. You’re flying into Sacramento. Lunch is on me. Chappee, Monroe, and LePier will meet you at El Primero.

Yes, sir, Mr. McClintock. I’ll be there, sir, Cole replied, listening to his timer buzzing.

Sounds like your lunch is ready, McClintock noted.

No, sir. I’m canning tomatoes. Gotta be ready for a rainy day, Cole countered.

McClintock’s voice was almost solemn as he replied, Looks like that day might be here sooner than we thought. I’ll see you in Minneapolis.

I’ll be there, sir, Cole assured him.

Cole hung up the phone, haunted by McClintock’s comment. He finished canning and listened to the jars popping as they cooled and sealed. He finished with the rifles, and, after making himself some food, he went to sleep early, curious about what the morning would bring.

His plane was on time in the morning as he left Flagstaff headed for Sacramento, and the meal at El Primero hit the spot after the quick flight.

They make a good burrito here, Tim Monroe commented as he finished his food.

But they never give you enough shells for the fajitas, Bill Chappee commented in a harsh southern accent. He wore a rugged look well on his long face, and a small ponytail hung down his back.

We’re going to have to leave soon. Where the heck is he? Cole wondered.

LePier said he would be here, but he just came in from mission two days ago. He was looking forward to time with the family, Monroe commented, rubbing the white napkin across the brown skin on his face. He had an average-sized build and eyes that always seemed at ease.

Then he should just stay, Cole countered, throwing his napkin down on the table.

I’ll do nothing of the sort, LePier announced in a French accent as he approached. He was a tall, slender man with jet-black hair and a tiny mustache.

Chappee’s face spread into a broad smile, and he greeted the man warmly.

Why don’t you stay, LePier? Cole asked. I’m not even sure what this is about.

Because I need the money, sir. We’re trying to save up to take the family to France.

A man has to do what a man has to do, Cole commented, pushing out his chair. We better get moving.

As Cole and his crew hustled out into the fresh air, Cole smashed into a young lady rushing through the door. The collision had rocked them both.

I’m sorry, miss, he told her, impressed by how well the woman had maintained her balance.

It’s my fault, the young lady declared, pulling her long brown hair into a ponytail. I’m late, and traffic was a mess out there.

We better get going then. Be careful, miss, Cole advised.

Have a nice night, she replied politely, rushing into the restaurant.

Come on, Virgis. You heard what the lady said, Chappee declared.

Everyone’s always in a rush, Monroe commented. His voice was smooth, and his cap shadowed his face

McClintock will have our asses if we miss this flight, LePier interjected.

Two hours later, they were boarding the plane.

Cole Virgis, how nice to see you, the pilot declared as he took off his jacket, preparing for the flight.

Oh no, if I had known you were flying this plane, I would have chosen another, Cole laughed, shaking hands with the man.

You know what they say, any landing you can walk away from . . .

Is a good landing, Chappee interjected with a smile.

The whole team is here? the captain wondered.

We sure are. Got called in yesterday afternoon, Cole admitted.

Let’s get you boys in the air, then, the captain concluded, heading for his seat.

They found their way to their first-class seats, and Cole melted into it. His belly was full, and he looked forward to a few hours of shut-eye before landing in Minneapolis. The plane taxied out to the runway and took off without incident. Just as Cole was about to close his eyes, he watched the attendant hurry by with a worried look on her face. Her eyes were flushed with fear, and a whiff of nauseating perfume wafted by with her and lingered after she was gone.

Listening to the rumble of the plane, Cole leaned into the aisle to see into the cockpit. The attendant left the door open, and her conversation with the captain worried him.

Chappee, the captain looks nervous about something, Cole commented.

Chappee looked at him, lifting his eyebrows. He replied sarcastically, Maybe the underwear bomber is on the plane.

It’s not the underwear bomber, Cole replied, annoyed with Chappee’s response.

If you’re so curious, why don’t you go ask him? Chappee suggested, looking out the window and letting his eyes close.

I think I will.

As the nervous chatter in the cockpit increased in intensity, so did Cole’s curiosity. Standing up, he approached the cockpit.

Sir, you can’t… the attendant began, but she stopped, recognizing Cole.

Cole, thank God you’re on this plane. Go on in, she told him.

Now he knew something was up. He stepped through the tiny door, asking, Is everything okay, Captain?

Look out the window, Virgis! the captain directed.

Looking out at the horizon before them, the mountains stretched out in the distance, but something strange was happening.

Is that water? Cole wondered, looking at the mysterious shape moving across the land.

I’ve never seen anything like that, the captain admitted, staring in awe out the window.

Watching the wave destroy everything in its path, the captain held his course.

It’s headed to the Folsom Dam! the co-pilot commented, craning his head to watch the wave’s progress.

Do you think it will hold? Cole asked, moving close to the window.

We’re about to find out, the co-pilot announced. He paused, watching the wave’s progress. The dam never stood a chance as the massive wave overwhelmed the system and smashed the concrete to shreds.

The co-pilot inhaled deeply, declaring, Oh my God! It’s gone!

It will hit Sacramento next, Cole admitted sadly, analyzing its progression.

And here’s what’s left of the Auburn Dam, the captain added, pointing out the window.

The dam had cracked down the middle, and the winged structure lay in shambles on either side. The water was let loose and anything downstream would be flooded.

You have to warn Sacramento, Cole suggested.

The captain picked up a radio and stated, Sacramento air control. We’re watching a giant wave headed in your direction. Pausing, the pilot listened for a response. The radio crackled eerily until the pilot pressed the button again and declared, Sacramento air control, this is Flight 459. Do you copy?

Listening again, the static was all they heard.

Where are they? Cole asked.

The pilot tried again. Sacramento air control, this is Flight 459. His voice pleaded for a response. Do you copy?

Try Reno, the co-pilot suggested, listening to the crackling noises.

The pilot switched radio frequencies, trying to connect with Reno.

"Reno air control, this is Flight 459. Do you copy?" he asked urgently.

To his surprise, a voice answered him.

Flight 459, this is Flight 1123. Are you receiving me? a woman inquired.

Copy that, Flight 1123, the pilot responded.

Are you reaching the control towers? she wondered.

That’s a negative, Flight 1123.

We’re supposed to be putting this bird down in Sacramento, she declared.

I’m not sure there’s any land left to land on, Flight 1123. Did you see the dam break? the pilot inquired.

The woman responded in shock, I’m looking at nothing but water.

I’d suggest turning that bird towards Reno, the pilot suggested.

Copy that, she replied.

Cole watched the two pilots look at each other, wondering what to do next.

Should we keep going to Minneapolis? the co-pilot asked.

I think so, the captain responded.

What about the people who have families down there? the co-pilot inquired.

Cole asked, What about the people with families in Minneapolis?

The pilot looked at Cole, thinking about his words.

Virgis, we might need you and your men to help keep order on the plane, the captain admitted.

Without hesitation, Cole responded, You can count on us.

Cole returned to his seat, knowing he needed to brief his men on this turn of events. Chappee was looking back and forth between Cole and the window with a wild look in his eyes. His tiny ponytail that stuck out below his hat bounced back and forth.

Did you see what happened out there, Virgis?

Needing the man to focus, Cole shushed him and added, We may have to help maintain order.

LePier leaned across the aisle and asked Cole, Are we landing? My wife was down there!

Cole’s heart ached for his friend, but this was no time for dissension. He needed his men ready to be the voice of reason.

No, LePier. There’s no runway left down there. We’re continuing on to Minnesota.

LePier shook his head a little and his brows furrowed with concern. Let me just say I strongly disagree with this decision, sir.

Noted, Cole acknowledged. "Now, get ready to do some crowd control.

Yes, sir, LePier responded, frustrated.

Two

Cole sat in his seat, listening to the nervous chatter explode across the plane. The attendants moved from row to row, trying to reassure the people. Finally, the woman he had encountered previously approached Cole.

Virgis, sir. We need you. The people are scared, and I’m afraid we’re about to lose control. You’re trained for this type of thing. Can you talk to them? the attendant requested.

I can try, Cole responded, gathering up his courage.

Come with me, she requested, leading him to a radio receiver in the front of the plane.

Cole took hold of the tiny plastic receiver. Taking a deep breath, he pushed down the button.

Can I have your attention, please? He paused, waiting for the eyes of the people in the seats to come to rest on him. We will be arriving in Minneapolis shortly. What we witnessed in Sacramento was not an isolated event.

The passengers started chatting nervously. Cole could see the fear in their eyes and feel the air grow thick with tension.

What’s happening down there? a man asked.

Are you saying the disaster wasn’t just in California? a woman asked.

The situation on the ground is unknown, Cole admitted as the people’s voices grew louder.

Great job, Virgis, Chappee commented sarcastically.

Cole shot him a condescending look before pushing the button and declaring, I’m going to need everyone to stay calm.

A man in a window seat stood up, inquiring, Can’t you just radio down there?

The nervous chatter was getting uncontrollable. Cole knew he needed to get the passengers to refocus fast, or he would lose control altogether.

I understand you all have questions, but right now, I need anyone with medical or emergency training to raise their hand, he instructed.

Several hands went up into the air, and the murmuring of the voices quieted.

Please keep them up. The men you see in the aisles will help you relocate to the rows closest to the exits, he told them, releasing the button. Go organize them, boys. It will keep them busy.

Good call, Virgis, Monroe said smoothly.

As his men stood up to follow Cole’s command, he spoke into the mic again, When we land, your groups will be given regions for assessment. That is all for now.

He hung up the microphone and turned to go back into the cockpit.

Wait a minute, a man declared, grabbing Cole’s arm. Have you had radio contact with anyone down there?

Cole looked at him, unsure how to respond. He didn’t want to create more chaos when he had just gotten control.

All I can tell you is right now, it’s spotty.

Overhearing their conversation, another woman inquired quietly, What the hell’s going on down there? My family is down there.

Noticing other passengers taking an interest in the conversation, Cole replied shortly, Look out the window, and you’ll know as much as I do right now.

Turning abruptly, Cole left into the cockpit. Cole could feel they were starting to descend. The smoke was thick as the plane dipped underneath the white layer hanging in the air. The men gasped in awe. Fires stretched out everywhere, and cars were smashed across the jagged roadways.

Virgis, do you see this? the captain asked as Cole approached.

What do you think the airport looks like? Cole responded.

Everything is on fire, the co-pilot said in a breath.

The airport should be coming up on the horizon now, the captain noted.

Cole strained to see their destination in the distance. The smoke obscured almost everything from view, and gigantic flames fueled their black plumes.

Oh, crap! Cole gasped.

That’s a lot of smoke. The fire must have gotten to the fuel reserves.

The pilot’s focus was elsewhere. Look at the runways!

They’re all cracked, broken like eggshells, the co-pilot despaired.

What are we going to do? Cole asked, seeing the men’s focus slipping.

The captain was quiet for a moment, thinking about Cole’s question. Finally, he suggested, We could put it down on the lake.

The co-pilot’s face furrowed with concern, and he countered, This isn’t 2009, and that is not the Hudson down there, Captain.

Everyone survived that landing, though, the captain countered.

We have enough gas to try for Duluth. Maybe it wasn’t hit as bad, the co-pilot suggested.

The pilot looked to Cole. What do you think?

I’m not the one you should be asking. They are, Cole responded, pointing out at the people on the plane. Their lives were in peril, and Cole felt they should have a say in their fates. The pilot and co-pilot nodded at Cole in agreement.

Returning to the plane’s cabin, the man who had stopped him asked, "Are we going to be able to land?

Cole didn’t answer him. He picked up the microphone and spoke into it while looking at the man.

You can see as clearly as I can what we’re up against, so here are our options. He paused for a moment, looking up at the crowd. We can land the plane on the lake or fly on to Duluth and see if it’s better up there.

The people on the plane ignited with chatter over the options Cole presented.

The woman with the pesky man up front questioned, Is it safe to land on the lake?

Safer than landing on the runway, Cole commented, listening to the people debate the options. After a few minutes, he decided to restore order. Okay, quiet down. We’re going to have a vote. All those in favor of flying to Duluth, raise your hand.

Cole paused, counting the hands in the air. About twenty-five percent of the occupants were in favor of this option.

Now, everyone in favor of landing on the lake, raise your hands, he requested. Assessing the number of hands in the air, their opinion was evident. Looks like we’re landing on the lake. I need everyone to follow the safety instructions, and your attendants will help you if you have any questions, Cole directed them before turning to his men and the assembled attendants. Get the life vests ready and ensure they know how to use them.

We’re going to have to have everyone with mobility problems organized, the flight attendant suggested.

Make it happen, ladies and gentlemen. Make sure those people know what to do and the medics are ready to react, Cole commanded.

Yes, sir, they replied, quickly assisting the people on the plane.

Cole turned back and reentered the cockpit.

They chose the lake, he told them.

We heard, the co-pilot said, disgruntled. He was not happy with the task in front of them.

We’re dumping fuel now. This bird needs to be as light as possible when it comes down, the captain explained.

Does the crew have the passengers ready? the co-pilot wondered.

"They’re ready. We have the medical personnel gathered and the flotation devices deployed. They’ll have the slides prepared when we land.

You better return to your seat, Virgis. It’s going to be a bumpy landing, the captain instructed.

Cole felt the plane circling around in a wide arch as he returned to his seat. The captain lined up the lake in his sights and started descending through the streams of thick smoke rising through the air.

Three

The plane shook fiercely as they skipped off the water, but the pilot fluttered the engines and brought them down safely. The bumpy ride left the medics busy. Most of the people, adorned with their yellow life vests, waited in quiet awe for the emergency doors to open and the rafts to be inflated. The fires burned brilliantly in the distance, and the noise of destruction shattered the night.

The boats were filled with people and headed toward the shore. Cole hung back with his team, the medics, and the pilots, ensuring everyone got off safely. Cole knew that was all he could do for them. As the rafts floated toward the shore, sirens sounded in every direction. Their noise blasted over the screams sounding from the city.

They rowed towards the shore in silence. The shock from the devastating scene unfolding in front of them rendered them mute. Aiming the raft toward the group of them gathering on the shore, the pilot finally asked, What are we going to do now, Virgis?

Pushing any trace of emotion from his voice, Cole replied flatly, I have to report to Mr. McClintock with my team.

So, that’s it, then? the co-pilot chimed in, shocked Cole would abandon them.

Look around. Nothing that I can do will dent this chaos. I need to get my team to our destination where we can make a difference. I’m sorry, guys, but that’s the plan.

Travel safely, my friend, the pilot told Cole, understanding his decision.

What will you do? Cole inquired.

I have to go home. My husband and daughter were waiting for me to return, he replied.

Safe travels to you as well. Great flying today, Cole responded, walking away with his team.

Chappee’s face wore a look of concern as he joined his companions. It feels kind of wrong, leaving them there like that.

I know, Chappee, but look around. We have a responsibility to get to our designated location. I think we should stick to that plan, Cole responded, turning his head as he watched a building explode into a ball of flames.

The screams were deafening as LePier hustled to keep up. I agree with Virgis. There is nothing we can do here, and we have come this far. We might as well complete the mission, and McClintock will know what happened in Sacramento. He’ll figure out a way to get me back there.

In that case, let’s pick up the pace, boys, Chappee urged them.

Just calm down, Chappee. We need to blend in and make sure we do not draw attention to ourselves, Cole insisted. Get out in front of us and make sure we’re not walking into a shit show.

Yes, sir, Chappee responded, walking off quickly in front of the team.

Cole watched the sun setting and scanned the men’s gear. LePier, cover up those reflectors on your pack. They’ll shine like the sun in the dark.

It wasn’t supposed to be my battle bag, LePier commented, noticing what Cole pointed out.

They walked slowly, stopping often to reassess the chaotic environment they were attempting to navigate. Cole didn’t want to interact with anyone. It would lead them down too many rabbit holes, and no one could be trusted in this desperate situation.

You’ve been awfully quiet, Monroe. What are your thoughts? Cole wondered.

Monroe’s dark eyes looked up at Cole as he spoke softly. I don’t make the orders, sir. I just follow them.

Then that’s what we’ll do, Cole agreed.

Armageddon strikes, and it’s business as usual for a team of soldiers, Chappee chuckled as he returned from his scouting mission.

We need a vehicle, sir, or our E.T.A. is going to be blown, Monroe interjected, thinking about their orders.

Get out your map. Where’s the rental yard?

Chappee slowed, looking at them curiously. Do you think anyone will be there?

No, but vehicles will be, Cole responded.

Folding his map back up, Monroe directed, It’s this way, sir. We can blend in with the buildings if we stay close to them.

Sure, as long as no more quakes happen, Chappee commented.

Staying off of other people’s radar is worth the risk. Let’s move out. LePier, Monroe, you’re on point.

The team navigated the enflamed city of Minneapolis. It broke Cole’s heart to hear the cries for help go unanswered, but there were too many to help them all. He could be most effective at McClintock’s side. Their rapidly moving march slowed as the team approached the rental lot.

It’s just around this bend, Monroe directed quietly.

LePier joined them, pointing out a group of prominent men. Eyes on the big boys over to the left, he warned in his French accent.

"I see