Countdown to Doomsday Begins: A Tale of Hope and Despair
Will this be how the world ends? JL and his wife, Lisa, are on the run as if their lives depend on it. And it does. Navigating through a world of famine, death, war and pestilence, they search for a safe place, as their Florida home becomes too dangerous. In Louisiana, a young woman is on the run for her life. Will their paths ever cross? Stay connected for each new chapter.
Countdown to Doomsday Begins: A Tale of Hope and Despair
Chapter 1: Survival and Defiance in 2035
What if the world as we know it has completely unraveled, leaving us to navigate a landscape of uncertainty and desperation? As we transport you to the year 2035, explore the grim realities facing John Lloyd Evans (JL) and his wife, Lisa, as they strive to survive amidst a sweltering climate crisis and societal collapse in White City, Florida. With the constant threat of a government-issued “death notice” looming over them, JL reflects on the events leading up to this volatile future, from the insurrection of January 6, 2021, to a world on the brink of destruction.
Amidst the unforgiving heat and dwindling resources, JL and Lisa’s narrative intertwines with that of Kat, a high school student from Port Sulphur, Louisiana. Her life is fraught with danger under authoritarian laws that threaten her freedoms. Journey with us as we traverse through their stories—Lisa and JL’s struggle against a society that deems them expendable, and Kat’s fight against oppressive laws that jeopardize her future. Together, they offer a stark portrayal of personal loss, resilience, and the enduring human spirit amid the chaos of climate change and political turmoil.
Cat’s daring mission through Grand Bay, Alabama, introduces us to a mysterious old man from a sacred resistance, igniting a spark of hope in this dystopian world. As she clutches her child in the pouring rain, the enigmatic journey begins, revealing the strength of resistance and the power of secret codes. Discover the heart-wrenching choices our characters face as they confront an uncertain future. This episode promises a riveting exploration of survival, trust, and the relentless quest for freedom in a world teetering on the edge of doomsday.
Welcome back to a new chapter, as always ad-free, curated just for you. Those of us at the Leaping Cat Studio want to thank a new sponsor helping produce each episode of Countdown to Doomsday, keeping it ad-free. And now follow the journey. Countdown to Doomsday, chapter 1. To say it was hot would not be an exaggeration. Thinking about that, jail was suddenly startled by the ringtone. He knew that would bring devastating news one day. Then it would require a choice. Jail wasn't good at making choices. He exhaled Not today, he thought as he listened to the announcement. Sunday 18 November 2035,. This is an official announcement from the administration. Noaa, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, predicts record high temperatures. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration predicts record high temperatures. No kidding. Jl thought it's already 112 degrees Fahrenheit here and it's only 7 in the morning.
Speaker 1:John Lloyd Evans, known as JL, lived with his wife, lisa in White City, florida. You might find this story unbelievable. Yet as implausible as it may seem, this is the way it happened. While memory and time obscure certain details, the truth lies somewhere between no longer and not yet. John Lloyd Evans, jl was unaware he was about to embark on what he would later call his pilgrimage. Eleven years ago, in 2024, his world began tearing apart. It was like someone pulled loose thread on a knitted sweater, and the unraveling went unnoticed until it was too late. The sweater was then no more than a pile of yarn. Jl sighed Too hot, he thought. Too worried, too tired. All I want to do is make it through another day.
Speaker 1:Jl hated shaving with a safety razor, but he still refused to throw away his electric shaver, even if there would be no electricity this month or the next. He kept it on a shelf, his display of contempt. The latest from authorities was that his neighborhood would get power in August. Jl remained awful. The screaming tea kettle interrupted his thoughts and JL lifted it from the wood-fired stove. The stove added unneeded heat to the small shotgun house. He shrugged and peered at the cheap thermometer hanging outside the window. The outside temperature was already passing 118 degrees Fahrenheit.
Speaker 1:Survival was a full-time occupation. Food was in short supply, despite the administration's attempt at erecting greenhouses, and farmers were incapable of producing food in this climate. A four-year drought meant there wasn't any grain or pastures for grazing animals. Jl reached down and felt his rib bones. We've all become involuntary pagans. He thought Scrounging and bartering for food was risky, requiring walking in unbearable heat, to one of the administration's, to one of the administration's controlled markets, hoping they still had anything edible in stock when water was available. Armed guards passed out the rations to ensure no one jumped the line. How did this happen, jail wondered? Scientists pointed out warning signs of climate change long ago. And if that wasn't enough, he thought the second US Civil War finally erupted.
Speaker 1:Jl recalled the adage Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind. Well, that about covers it, he thought. Winds sown by the insurrection on January 6, 2021, became a whirlwind of violence spreading widely in what his mother would call the blink of an eye. Pandemic violence and starvation followed. Jl looked down, realizing his hand was shaking and knew his tremors were more pronounced. Accurate news from the outside was heavily censored, but whispered reports of global conflicts, disease and famine trickled in. People whispered about violence, disease and hunger wiping out nearly two-thirds of the world's population Without enough food and water. The White House had ordered state militias to begin identifying people who no longer contributed to the common good, whatever that meant. Soon, names of the elderly, anyone with ill health or handicapped were entered into a database and those citizens began to receive what became known as the death notice. 69 years old. How have I avoided my death? Notice this long. Chapter 1, scene 1.
Speaker 1:John Lloyd Evans Jr was born in rural Pennsylvania on the 2nd of May 1964. Born in rural Pennsylvania on the 2nd of May 1964. His favorite uncle called him JL and 69 years later, everyone called him JL. This morning, as he shaved, he felt a rush of emotion, thinking about his Uncle, chuck. When a hand on his shoulder startled him, he turned and smiled Lisa, I thought you were asleep. How can you shave with hot water in this heat? Jl, in fact, why bother shaving? Every morning they started their day with the same banter.
Speaker 1:Jl turned back to the small mirror he'd taped to the wall when the alarm sounded on both their mobile devices. After five seconds of a shrill tone, the message began 18 July morning report. A disembodied voice echoed from both phones. With today's high temperature expected to exceed 138 degrees Fahrenheit, we advise citizens to shelter in place and check your mobile device for your nearest cooling station. Food markets will remain closed until Saturday due to a lack of supply. Ocean water level has risen another 2.7% since last month. We advise citizens to stay away from the following areas Level has risen another 2.7% since last month. We advise citizens to stay away from the following areas.
Speaker 1:Lisa rolled her eyes, ready with a sarcastic retort as JL held up his hand to stop her. No talking during the morning news report. Lisa, he said. Mouthing the words. The message continued Anyone with a spotty pearly rash as shown in the pandemic guide should seek medical attention immediately. Here's a list of.
Speaker 1:Lisa couldn't contain her fury. Why bother? At the first sign you only have three weeks at most. You're facing a painful death as your lungs constrict your breathing. Lisa picked up on the still steaming kettle. Her anger evaporated. I've saved some dried leaves for a brew. Let's make this a treat. Jl turned to see her holding two slices of lemon. Tears fill in her eyes. She's the brave one, he thought. If she's barely hanging on, what chance do I have? It's Wednesday, he said Death notice day. I know we will get ours today.
Speaker 1:Moments later, Lisa's phone sounded and JL could hardly breathe. Wednesday was the day for death notices. That wasn't the official designation, but everyone called it that. He watched her gripping the phone, her face turning a sickly gray. She looked at JL and expected the official notice from Major Ruckert Perkins, commandant of the 357th Florida Militia, to inform Citizen Lisa Margaret Evans to report to the Federal Building in Fort Pierce by close of business on Friday. She began shaking so hard she had to grip the phone with both hands. Oh, jl, it's only a warning about rising water level on the North Fork of the St Lucie River. Squeezing words out through clenched jaws, jl, his face lathered and holding a safety razor in his left hand, walked towards her just as his phone chimed with the same warning about the water level. Their death notice would have to wait for another Wednesday.
Speaker 1:Chapter One, scene Three as JL sipped Lisa's faux tea, he didn't pretend it was anything other than dried oak leaves steeped in boiling water. It looked like tea and they both agreed to act out their tea ceremony Sugar. Lisa asked no, thank you Milk. No, thank you Milk, no, thank you. It was their unfunny, funny charade, since there was no milk or sugar to be had. Finally, lisa asked JL a question she'd been holding back.
Speaker 1:We didn't get our death notices today, but we both know it's coming soon. She took JL's hand, pleading with her eyes the militias won't be out in this heat. That gives us an opportunity. We need to find that group that helps people escape. I don't want. Let me finish. I have an address. It used to be a barber shop, I was told it's where we can learn more about the help leaving this godforsaken place. It's too dangerous, lisa. What if we get caught? Is it any more dangerous than getting a death? Notice? How far is this building? It's about a 25-minute walk. I was told to expect whoever opens the door to be suspicious, but my contact said she put in a good word for us.
Speaker 1:Chapter 1, scene 4 the landscape was depressing. To JL Today was no exception. The lack of greenery was most disturbing. Even the trees drawing some moisture from the north fork of the river lacked enough chlorophyll, the natural compound needed to give the green color to plants and trees.
Speaker 1:Lisa and JL walked on slowly to conserve energy in the extreme heat. Denuded trees offered little or no protection from the sun. It's uncanny, lisa said, pointing those abandoned houses were once home to families. Look how many have burned to the ground. Whatever happened to those people, lisa? The population of the three counties comprising the treasure coast was close to 650 000 in the 220 census. He shook his. Before the total news blackout we heard the United States lost 53% of its population. Some scientists are claiming it's even closer to 60%. He could tell Lisa was doing calculations in her head. That means our region lost more than 390,000 people jail. Only 210,000 remain. That's right, lisa, and most of those serve in the militia or the administration. She reached for his hand as they walked. Her earlier prediction about the militia avoiding the heat proved correct.
Speaker 1:They reached their destination without being stopped. When the door opened to their knock far enough to give them the once-over, a young man worked hard to look sullen and pouty, despite his inner acne angst. He mumbled instructions as both Lisa and JL leaned into here. When you get your death notice, place this on the front porch. The young man said it was a garden gnome and all three snickered. When your guide sees it, the young man said you'll be told what to do next.
Speaker 1:Lisa and JL were critically close to dehydration by the time they returned home. Lisa pushed open the screen door and rushed to the emergency supply of water she kept hidden. Jl looked around to see if the militia had searched their house while they were away. It looks safe, he said. I don't think anyone's been here that night.
Speaker 1:Heat made it impossible to sleep on the bed. They both spread out on the bare wooden floor. It wasn't much cooler, but enough to hopefully fall asleep. Despite his effort to ignore the sweat and the heat, jael couldn't sleep that night. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts driftcember no november.
Speaker 1:It was 2024, I'm not sure the day, but it was at the end of the month. The elections were over. Going down is in history as the dirtiest ever. Lisa and I talked about the rising number of men and women joining militias and expressed our dismay watching videos of armed right-wing thugs walking around voting sites, automatic weapons hanging over their shoulders. But this November day wasn't about the threat to our sweaty democracy. It involved four volcanoes volcanoes in Russia.
Speaker 1:I remember being in high spirits. We enjoyed grabbing lunch together when we could, and I had dropped off Lisa at the school where she taught. If memory serves, there was light afternoon traffic eastbound on the Crosstown Parkway. You can imagine my shock when I saw the bridge in front of me suddenly rising and falling as if it were a whip Soon. The road created waves of asphalt that rippled towards me. It seemed like I was on some kind of a bizarre theme park ride when the road began to rise and fall. As it reached my car, the median between the lanes of the crosstown plummeted like a sinkhole, producing a deep v-shaped chasm. My car skidded sideways toward the trench. Its broken. Water mains sprayed water as if inviting us to escape the heat, and water mains sprayed water as if inviting us to escape the heat. Soon, water coming from the pipes was reduced to a mere trickle, jumping from the car before it fell. In all the way, I stood hands on hips trying to make sense of what I had just seen.
Speaker 1:Lisa and I knew the peril of climate change deniers. Because of our collective refusal to admit there was a crisis, global climate change had become a problem that would not solve itself. We read a report claiming that average temperatures were rising to a level that made it difficult to meet the world's agricultural needs. Apparently, it also caused the Earth's crust to weaken. Later, we learned, four Russian volcanoes erupted simultaneously. When the inner core pressure found the weak spot of our planet, layers of ash soon spread over the atmosphere. With an ironic twist, temperatures rose as layers of volcanic ash blocked the sun, and then we were plunged into frigid temperatures for three months, even some snowflakes along the equator, but then the ash dissipated and heat from the sun returned with a vengeance. From Virginia through the Great Plains, summer temperatures combined with drought turned grasslands into clay floor, cracked desert soon emerging over the entire earth's surface. It seemed the green of Florida's landscape turned brown as leaves withered and dried until the trees burst into spontaneous combustion. The climate doomsday needle moved close to midnight. Farmers and agricultural workers made heroic efforts and rushed to erect huge greenhouses, but they just couldn't sustain the population's demand for basic food. The supply chain we all used to talk about during the pandemic was no longer an issue. It was simply gone.
Speaker 1:When the Internet was restored in December, I rushed to learn what I could, not just about the United States, but the world. One small report caught my eye. A geologist and an astronomer examined their seismic recordings and they concluded that the Earth's axis had shifted by 11 degrees. The implications of such a shift were unknown. Some scientists and most politicians scoffed at their report. That ignorance would have catastrophic implications. But none of that mattered. As I got out of my car that day, I surveyed the surrounding damage and I didn't know about any volcanoes in Russia. I didn't know about the Earth's shifting axis and how it was about to warp speed climate change. I didn't know it was going to turn large portions of the earth into baked ground like images of the 300,000 acres of the Bonneville salt flats in Utah. I must have fallen asleep because then I woke up to a mosquito soundtrack. To a mosquito soundtrack, chapter 1, scene 6.
Speaker 1:Lisa and JL sat at the top of the porch steps, jl holding the garden gnome, waiting for a sign. They listened to a symphony of crickets and other insects. They watched an emaciated squirrel race by scale in a buttonwood tree. Sirens were a nearly constant part of their background music. Some seemed near most in the distance One sounded a menacing imitation of a European two-tone low-high siren. This isn't any cooler out here, but the walls were closing in on me. Jl, we should be okay sitting here in the dark. Lisa, thugs in the militia trucks sneak around the neighborhoods with their lights off, hoping to catch someone violating the curfew. The neighborhoods with their lights off, hoping to catch someone violating the curfew, but the temperature is still over 110 Fahrenheit at 10 pm. During the day the temps are lethal.
Speaker 1:How did it get to this jail? We heard warnings about the effects of human activity increasing the pace of climate change. Jail side. Then along came the pandemic Lisa distracting us from the environment. Divisions between maskers and anti-maskers Activists urged climate change, saying it wasn't too late. But most politicians lived in climate denial before the, even before the pandemic later became too late.
Speaker 1:We have to decide, jl. Lisa said, bringing him back to the important discussion they they faced. I know you're absolutely right, but why not hold out a little bit longer? Maybe something will change? Lisa hit Jail on the shoulder hard. Don't give me that crap. You know we are long past hope. We'll get our death notice sooner rather than later. Then will you have time to make your decisions.
Speaker 1:She stared into the far distance. Your favorite song should be Should I stay or should I go by the Clash? Damn it, lisa. I know we no longer have friends or family to rely on and saw sickness moisture appearing on his wife's face. He knew she was thinking about their daughter, an early victim of COVID-19 back in 2020. Money is useless anymore. The authorities distribute scrip as a substitute for money, but it looks like Monopoly money rejects. Well, we've made contact.
Speaker 1:Lisa said there has to be a way out. The sound of rapid-firing weapons interrupted her. It sounded like a street battle. Jl knew it could also be only adrenaline-fueled thugs shooting at random targets, perhaps a mother hurrying home with food for her child. It was a game they loved to play. Their targets Not so much. Not so much On the day they got their death notice.
Speaker 1:It was mid-morning and sounds of sirens and automatic weapons continued to follow the air. Jl pulled back the curtain and watched three jacked-up, oversized pickup trucks racing down the street, men and women wearing mismatched camouflage balanced on the back of each vehicle firing randomly into the air. Right on time, gl said, reminding us of who's in charge the loyal troops of Commandant Rucker Perkins, always at the head of every parade, chomping on a large cigar as if he was Che Guevara. Most people wouldn't know who Che Guevara is anymore, jl. Well, that ignorance explains a lot about the mess we're in. Both jumped as their mobile devices rang as if in stereo. Is this it, lisa? Today's ringtone means bad news.
Speaker 1:Jl pushed the screen door and stepped out to the porch, letting the door slam To the east, he saw the colossal flagpole on US 1. With no wind, the flag sagged as if trying to cling to the pole. Looking like a limp dick, he thought. Using his sleeve to wipe sweat from his face, saline-infused wetness stung his eyes. When he could focus, he read the text on his mobile. It listed the rules for the day. We expect temperature readings to exceed 135 degrees Fahrenheit Headquarters has issued a double red heat advisory. Check in at an emergency cooling center near you. Jl knew anyone attempting to reach one of the so-called cooling centers would not survive in the heat.
Speaker 1:Lisa called out from the kitchen they're adding more vaccination sites. I was talking to a woman at the food market last Saturday. She said they were only a decoy to identify anyone like us who have early symptoms of the latest variant. She paused. The virus has mutated into at least 46 variants and over 120 sub-variants since 2019. This latest is the worst, though. Once identified, a person has three weeks and can expect a painful, breath-crushing death.
Speaker 1:Gl couldn't see Lisa's face, but knew she was crying. He didn't know what to say or do. Instead he stared at the cheap thermometer nailed to the siding. It had been stuck at the highest mark, 120 degrees Fahrenheit, for the past three months, maybe even longer. He was staring at it when Lisa came out to join him. Why didn't we pay attention, jl? It all turned into white noise. He replied. Global warming, climate change, phooey. It all pushed off the front page by the latest conspiracy theory. And now Hutchison Island and the rest of the East Coast barrier islands are all underwater. Jl paused. As if that wasn't enough, there was the militia takeover, claiming they were doing it for our own protection. He saw the tears sparkle like diamonds in Lisa's eyes. Now we live a lockdown existence. Each state has its own version of a militia, all controlled by that madman in the White House, I heard. On his birthday next year he turns 88.
Speaker 1:The alt-right is planning a huge celebration that day. What's important that day, jail? Well, the conspiracy nutjobs worship the number 88, lisa. The eighth letter of the alphabet is H. 88 refers to HH, herr Hitler. They see the self-appointed clown in the White House as HH reincarnate. I said clown, but he isn't funny. Like you, I wanted to play ostrich and bury my head in the sand. Lisa said Pandemic famine leaders who kill or order killing on a whim. Now is it too late? I'm afraid so, lisa.
Speaker 1:We hear the rumors, Jail said We've heard about the anti-fascist partisans calling themselves the Sacred Resistance. They fight in the mountains and are rural and rural redoubts. Supposedly, some of those redoubts are like medieval defense emplacements. I hear people whispering about them at the market too. Do you think they have a chance, jail? I want to think so, lisa, I think they may be our only chance. There's a rumor even more disturbing there's a new sweet, generous computer program called ViperByte. If true, it has total access to everyone's personal data, and part of its charm is the ability to identify citizens like you and me who no longer have any value. Someone told me Viper Bites is the program that generates those death notices.
Speaker 1:Lisa looked at JL, her hand resting on his shoulder. I know you don't want to talk about it and escape plan, but it's time she began sobbing. I keep watching for signs of the virus. I know you don't want to talk about it and escape plan, but it's time she began sobbing. I keep watching for signs of the virus. Jail I would rather take my medicine as a free person than face a death notice. It's finally time to make your mind up. Jail. He knew the medicine she referred to were vials provided by the administration, each containing a tincture with an ample dose allowing one to embrace Morpheus, the ancient god of sleep and dreams.
Speaker 1:The administration assured citizens that suicide would be painless. Should I stay or should I go? Jl couldn't get that song out of his head. Then, on Wednesday, both mobiles chirped, precisely at 3 pm the notification. Everyone called the death notice informed Lisa and JL to report to the federal courthouse in Fort Pierce, florida.
Speaker 1:In two days, friday, the 28th of February, at 10 am, lisa turned to JL and began to echo words to the song by the Clash Should I stay or should I go? No need to be snotty, lisa, it's out of our hands now and I'm not ready to end my life by execution or suicide. I say we take our chances on escape and I hope it's not too late. Jl wrapped his arm around his wife. At least we don't have much to pack, just my safety racer, he said, trying for some levity. It didn't work. As they pondered their next steps, jl thought back to another day, in 2022, a time before the volcanoes erupted. It was August 2022 and they lived in White City Ford, the same house. They used to laugh about their daily routine after they retired.
Speaker 1:Jl usually woke up first cursing his enlarged prostate Coffee pot on the morning medication taken. He walked to the end of the driveway to pick up their two morning newspapers. As if on cue, lisa walked into the kitchen yawning and stretching like a cat. I'm not sure I can read this anymore, jl said, slamming the papers on a kitchen counter. That bad, lisa said Worse. He held up a copy of the newspaper the new york times. The over the fold photograph showed a pile of bodies in the ukraine. This has been dragging on for months with no end in sight. Lisa settled into her favorite chair with coffee and the local newspaper. Here's another story, she said about algae bloom and how it's ruining the St Lucie River. What can we do? We're just two people on the wrong side of the political divide. Well, you were in the army, jl. Couldn't you go to the Ukraine and volunteer to fight? Jail looked at his wife to see if she was serious.
Speaker 1:Chapter 1, scene 8, port Sulphur, louisiana, may 2035. Before leaving for school, kat, born Kuluba Bowles, listened to her Safda grandmother explain how she got the name Kat. Your mother, josette, was close to her end. Safda told her granddaughter She'd lost lots of blood when you were born, made no difference to the hospital, can't pay, you're on your way. That's what they told her. Your mother told me she was sitting in a bar trying to come up with a name for her daughter. You, josette, her real name, was Saw two bottles side by side. Kahlua was on the left, bowles on the right. Whatever, josette saw through the haze that night and carelessly took the H from one and gave it to the other. Your name became Kahlua, without an H and gave it to the other. Your name became Kalua without an H, and Bowles with an H, coughing out a lifetime of smoking. Safda continued Close enough for government work, as they say, because two weeks later my baby, your mother, was dead. Kat closed her eyes as she listened.
Speaker 1:Some cats purr and rub against you, planting a subliminal message to either pet them or feed them. Some cats are wary and have a way of hissing when they're disturbed. Cats can be wild, but you rarely see a feral cat. Young Cat felt halfway between the two ends of that emotional continuum. She had a way about her like a cat that hisses when disturbed, like now. Cat was alone and backed into a corner, but it was like that most of the time. For her Nine inches over five feet, cat drew the attention of the high school basketball coach. But Cat was seriously underweight, even if she tried to bulk up with a hand-me-down army field jacket that cost her five bucks at the Sally Ann. Tall and thin Cat was sinewy and walked with the grace of an African stalking cat. At least that's the way she preferred to think of herself. When the end of school bell sounded, cat usually ran like the wind, glad to be back in the open air.
Speaker 1:This day, however, she walked slowly, knowing the expected news wouldn't be good. By the time she got off the bus in Port Sulphur, it was only a short walk to Dr Wilkes' office. She waited in the examining room for what seemed like hours. In fact, the doctor walked in only five minutes later. He always made sure his nurse was with him when he examined young female patients. Today, though, he waved the nurse away and closed the door. I tried. He said If I could arrange it, I would drive you away myself, but if my nurse is listening at the door, as I expect, she will report me to the authorities for you and me even having this conversation.
Speaker 1:According to the new federal law, the death penalty is attached to the mere mention of terminating a pregnancy for a patient. Kat nodded her understanding. She knew that there were checkpoints to get out of this part of Louisiana, meaning certain arrest and death if the database included her name. She later said she didn't know what caused her to shudder at that time. In her heart, though she believed her soon-to-be baby was telling her he wanted his chance at a future. She and Dr Wilkes embraced awkwardly, but the doctor didn't bother concealing his tears. One more thing he said. The state has established their own record of pregnant women. They forward all that data to a national database. I will keep your name off the list as long as possible. He passed her a paper Follow these directions and Godspeed.
Speaker 1:Cat left the office keeping her emotions wrapped in steel bands. She walked out into the steady rain, realizing, after years of drought, it had been raining like this for days now. Street lighting reflected in the water like an evil grin. She had a built-in fear of the Mississippi River on the other side of the levee. Added to that, one of her teachers tried to warn students that the levees were no longer up to their task of holding back the Mississippi's water anymore. All it will take is one hard ring. Cat shook that thought to the side. She was more terrified of how Safta would react to her pregnancy, let alone the need to run off to save her life and the life now growing in her belly. It turned out to be a needless worry. Instead of words, zafra gathered Kat an enormous hug, holding her tightly she whispered to her granddaughter. This isn't the first time in our history we've faced risk escaping to the north. Besides, food is scarce, pestilence prowls like a venomous snake, white thugs are coming for the likes of us. I fear the end of days is near. I even studied the signs of what Christians think about the apocalypse. Besides, I've lived my life. I need you to take everything I give you and run. Run until you can't run no more.
Speaker 1:Cat's grandmother, an enormous woman, pushed herself from her chair. Returning from her bedroom, she handed Cat a small package wrapped in burlap, carefully tied with leather straps straps. Kat examined it. What, kat it's? A slave secretly carried it with her from Africa. It's written in an ancient cipher, a code. It's unreadable to anyone chancing upon it that doesn't know the code. Kat was breathless as her grandmother went on.
Speaker 1:Your ancestors passed the story and this talisman down to each generation. A slave called Maraday Edgefield was a woman from Ethiopia and a Jew. Her Hebrew name was Saba Micaiahs. She was described as extremely tall and well-poised. They say she was the house. You know the word.
Speaker 1:Safton began coughing and Cat waited for her grandmother to continue. I talked to people who know about such things. I'd never heard of a black African Jew before, but this notebook lists names far back and they link you and me to a unique Jewish heritage Zephda, the word was all Cat could manage. Why did you keep it a secret? To keep us safe. White people around these parts don't take kindly to Jews and coloreds, and we're both Best keep such things on the inside. How has it survived? How did she manage to carry it with her? So they have to unwrap part of the leather strapping. A young girl fashioned this strapping to tie around her, hiding it from the observation. Cat's grandmother showed how to wrap it with a strap around each shoulder, tying it so that it rested just under the breasts. This is your proof. Guard it with your life Proof. Cat said. It's proof of your true heritage. Yes, safta.
Speaker 1:Daylight slithers out of a shadowy darkness swiftly in this part of the country. That provided Cat with an opportunity and she crept out after dark with a waking soft With enough light. Cat read the doctor's note again as she bordered the number three ferry across the Mississippi River. On the other side, cat stood in pouring rain alongside Highway 39. It wasn't long until a man in a pickup slowed and stopped. Cat was cautious getting in the truck, keeping her right hand on a combat knife she carried in her pocket. Cat looked again at the note, making sure the description of this man in his truck was a match.
Speaker 1:The old man, sensing her weariness, raised his hands to show he wasn't a danger. He knew pieces of her story and the peril she was in. God placed you in my path, he said calmly. Can't say no to God. Just then Cat felt stirring so the new life inside her and knew she needed rest. She listened to the man until her eyelids closed and she was gently snoring.
Speaker 1:Two and a half hours later the old man stopped the truck. This, here's the exit for Grand Bay, alabama. Figure, you have your head. Start now. The missus and I will have you in our prayers, he coughed embarrassed, handing Cat a note with directions to a bus stop.
Speaker 1:Wait there, someone will meet you. How will I know? You mean? If they're safe, he said, or the enemy? He held up his hands as if praying. There are people who understand the struggle. It's the mission of the sacred resistance to help you and many others along the path of their pilgrimage. Cat nodded her understanding as the misty rain provided cooling relief. Your guide will ask you a question. The man said Will you be off or from? You must say from the west, traveling east. What a strange question. She thought Cat always believed herself to be resourceful, but tonight, standing in the pouring rain, she cried, locking her and the baby in a self-hug until she could no longer see the old man's taillights. Thank you for listening to another episode of Countdown to Doomsday. What's in store for JL, lisa and Kat in their next episode? We welcome your comments and you may contact us At chuck at chuckwaldroncom. Narrated by me, chuck Waldron. Produced by Edna Francis.