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It just changes but you seem to still understand what is happening.With the telephone still to my ear and a look of terror upon my face a I hear a different voice speaking to me, it's my step-father. His voice is trembling and his usually sedate stutter seemed out of control. He was nearly unable to force a single word from his throat.My mother was dead.It was during this nightmarish tableau in my subconscious that I fought to awaken; fought against sheets and terror and an invisible enemy that I couldn't defeat.As I lay in my bed, terrified simply because my intuition told me to be, the telephone beside my bed rang. Normally I am not a skittish person but the shrill sound was ominous. It was my mother. I started shaking inside when I heard her hoarse voice. "It's cancer."The words didn't make sense, for some reason I couldn't comprehend what she was telling me. Cancer? How could she have cancer? She was only 45 years old. Sure she was a smoker, but her lung x-rays were always clear.. If she understood the statistics of law enforcement, the criminal hardcore far outnumbered the thin blue ranks of sworn crime-fighters already working overtime to protect the general public.The lack of aircraft in the sky, the empty highways and the absence of any electronic communications led her to believe that the earthquake, the Tsunami and the floods were only part of the picture with other unknown elements involved that she was totally unaware of mainly because she choose not to get involved in current events for most of her adult life.Alice gathered up her lightest necessities and waited until darkness fell to make the thirty click trip to her uncle’s cabin in the woods. She wanted to get into his hidden cache of weapons and ammo buried behind the outhouse inside the military grade metal storage crates and see if his powdered survival food supplies were still safe under the floorboards in the kitchen. She had no doubt the place had been ransacked several times over by looters.
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