A Hard Rain: Book Two Of The Shift Trilogy

Chapter 7

Rochelle, Virginia

Rochelle Sovereignty

December 21, 2012

Three years ago tonight Chris and Brandon came up with the idea for the Mayan End of the World Party. The devastation of the Great Suck that followed in the months after 7/11 and the Obsidian War was still on everyone's minds and was just beginning to soften in its raw intensity. He, Meredith, and kids were at a Solstice celebration being hosted by the local Unitarian reverend with Brandon, Anne and their boy when the thought occurred to Chris. He vaguely remembered seeing a series on the History Channel about doomsday prophecies. The prophecy getting the most attention on the show was related to the Mayan calendar, which ended on the winter solstice December 21, 2012. Its ending was supposed to herald the end of the world though there were several competing theories as to what exactly would cause the end. A sour memory flashed as he recalled lying on the futon listlessly watching the TV series late in the evenings during height of the panic-fueled, insomniac weary months before the Shift hit. Chris had decided at the Solstice party—he only went there for the free beer—that he was going to host the Mayan end of the world and make it a big celebration.

The yellow farmhouse Meredith and he had built a few years ago had a sizeable living and dining room, but it was rather cramped for tonight's festive gathering. Aidan and Rhiannon, dressed in their jammies ran with other children who were likewise dressed for bed. They wouldn't be going to sleep anytime soon though, not with this crowd. Chris and Meredith were trying to make sure there was enough food and wine to go around. Brandon had hobbled over with his one leg—the other one he had lost in an improvised explosive device hunting bandits—and started DJ'ing on the Stirling record player, and was drinking as much of the wine he lost to Chris in poker as possible while his boy carefully handed him priceless LPs to play.

The generator Chris slapped together helped to keep the lights going, but power was still spotty at times. The speakers took up a lot of energy. This was costing the Jung's quite a few Byrds, but what the hell? It was the end of the world, right?

"All...my...friends know the low rider....

The low...rid....er...is a little higher"

People boogied to War as though they never knew what had transpired over past five and a half years. The assault rifles stacked with the coats in one of the guest rooms stood as a reminder. But then again, nobody traveled without at least a sidearm on them. Even within the relative safety inside the settled lands, people still traveled with a weapon. There always was a scant chance that a small cadre of bandits had slipped through the wire and was looking for an easy meal.

A freezing waft announced the arrival of another guest. Chris walked over to see Kendra Baraka and a young man shaking off the cold.

"Hey, guys! Glad you made it!"

Taking off her white poncho, Kendra was dressed in a sleeveless glittery blouse, her arm still bandaged. The young man, one of the farmers, gawked foolishly like young men did when they found themselves on a date with a woman way out of their league.

"Thanks for the invite, Cap, I mean Chris."

Chris had asked Kendra and the gunnery sergeant to drop the ranks between the three of them when they were off duty, something that Jon had asked of him when he and Jon hung out just the two of them. Jon wasn't here, as far as he could tell, though with the crowd, maybe he was and he just didn't see him. Jon probably was stuck at the Christmas party at the Visitors' Center. That was the price of leadership.