Terror Comes to Turtle Lake
By July, it got rather hot, and sometimes I slept with only the mosquito netting over me. This was the time when the horse flies and deer flies were at their worst. It seems like I swatted thousands of them as their burning stingers dug for my blood. Much worse than mosquitoes.
Each time I called Julie, things got more urgent. There was no Fourth of July celebration that year for anyone. Fires had burned over half the forest in the country and smoke was everywhere, combined with dust from the dried-up soil where the crops had failed—most of the Midwestern crops failed, dried out and burned. Town after town burned, driving their occupants onto the roads, seeking shelter wherever they could. Little was found. Those that had shelter were reluctant to open it to the multitudes looking.
California was producing crops, but water was getting scarce there, like before, and the price of gasoline and bio diesel was too great to ship most of the crops out of the state. Unknown territory where, more and more, law was breaking down and trucks were hijacked. The cities were breaking down. With no electricity, water, or food, city dwellers were abandoning the cities en masse. As a result, unless a city dweller had cash and a destination in the country, he/she would have to join a group of anarchists to survive. Without being in an armed militia for protection, the city was hell. The second amendment was in full use as people sought to protect themselves and their loved ones with lethal force.
Julie reported that the smoke was so bad sometimes that it burned their eyes and throats, and made breathing hard. I smelled it, too, from time to time. There was a general pall in the sky from smoke that had reached the stratosphere and encircled the globe. I didn't know it at the time, but, as a result, the next three years would be much colder, before the real heat set in from all the carbon dioxide in the air and methane released from the tundra as the permafrost melted.
Julie also reported that Frank and she had been busy putting moss and fern cover over every root cellar and hideaway that they had so that they would not be discovered by marauding gangs—something they had learned from locals—that gangs were now in the area.
I figured by the end of July I would reach the point where I would be flown out, Little Pine Lake, just off the river I was on that continued on to Hudson Bay. But I was anxious and didn't want to wait any longer to head home. While I was enjoying my sojourn, Julie and my parents were constantly on my mind and I just had to get there, no matter what. Over the next two days, I called my charter plane service over and over and only got a message, "We are out of the office, but leave a message and we will call you back as soon as we can. As I got no call backs, I became more anxious and begin to think I wouldn't hear from them again. Thoughts of being stranded so far north haunted me.
I needed to go south and the charts that I had from my GPS stored on my smart phone indicated that I would have to do a lot of portaging to go south and pick up the Boundary Waters into Minnesota to the St. Croix River and Indianhead country. If I had to go south myself, it was that or risk Hudson Bay. The next time I called Julie, I broke the news.
“Hi, Julie. I hope everything is okay there. I've got good news and bad news. Do you want to hear it?”
A frightened voice came on the line. “Oh, am so glad you called. Uncle Frank and I have been hiding here in the woods all day. It's too confining in that hideout hole, so we are out in the woods, about a mile from the cabin, hoping they won't come this way. Luckily, we heard them coming a long time before they got to the cabin and we both headed out with backpacks to this hole we dug that we crawled into for about an hour until we came out here in the brush.
Mosquitoes are biting me right now and it's not pleasant. Every once in a while we can hear them shooting and whooping it up, so we won't go back until they have left. I sure hope we have something left to go back to. I heard they burn places like ours just in spite. Luckily, we have caches all over and a couple of tents we can live in until we build something back if they burn everything down. Most of our stuff is buried and grown over so they can't find it. Now all I have to do is make sure they don't find us. Still, I'm scared…”
“I'm sure glad that you have Uncle Frank to help you. Frank, (Frank stuck his head in the picture. His hair and beard were now pure white and more unruly than ever) thank you so much for helping Julie get protected from the awful things that are happening.”
Uncle Frank's gruff voice was very clear. “Well, it's the best I can do. I ain't sure whether I'm doing enough, though. From what I hear, those bastards can be really mean and take away everything you have… kill ya. I'm going to make sure they don't get a chance to rape your sister. We'll be hidin' like groundhogs if they come this way. And we both got rifles and pistols to let them know that we mean business if they try to take us. In the meantime, we'll hide and will do them no harm unless they try to harm us.” Frank's taut face disappeared from the screen and was replaced by Julie’s worry lined one.
“I'm going to sign off now. Don't want them to hear us or run down my battery. I will text you if we get in trouble and I can't call. I sure as hell hope we've got something left of the cabin after they leave. It's getting dark so it looks like we may have to spend the night out here. I'll call you tomorrow because I don't want my phone to ring if they're anywhere near. I love you. Bye.”
“I love you too, Julie. Put your phone on vibrate so that it won't make a sound. Will also look for text messages from you. And Uncle Frank. Take care of my sister for me. Bye now.” I tried to look and sound normal but knew I didn't.
I must've covered 40 miles the next day, every minute worrying about them, paddling hard with the current. Finally, after I made camp and ate a squirrel that I had snared overnight in my previous camp, I couldn’t wait any longer and made a call even though Julie had told me not to.
A strained voice came on the line so I knew that it was her. Her phone was set to automatically lock out anyone who tried to use it except her. “Hello, I'm so glad you called. We have been too busy to call you back and I just started to relax and try to get to bed just now. They left sometime last night. We snuck back to the cabin and knew what we would find, because we saw it burning in the night. For some reason they didn't burn the boathouse, but they took the boat. We still have the canoe that we hid in the woods and most of our supplies., furnishings and equipment—all buried. That's what we've been doing all day. Digging up stuff that we had buried so that we can get this place back in order and build a cabin by winter. This time, we will build further from the water and the road and leave the burned-out cabin for anyone else to find, thinking no one lives here anymore.” She sounded exhausted.
“Okay, that's a relief. At least you've minimized your loss and have a plan that will do you well in the future. You really don't know how many more marauders there are out there. I just had a tasty squirrel and cattail root dinner with mushrooms and made at least 20 miles today with all the portages around rough water and rocks. I figure that I'll be at my turning south point in about five days. I still don't know if I can make all the portages and the 500 miles yet to go to reach you by fall.” We said our goodbyes and I worried selects weak dreams…
I figured about right, and, in four days on July 30, I reached my take-out point just off the river and the trail to Little Pine Lake. The lake was deserted, except for a well-stocked lodge and cabins that the bush pilot used to bring people and guides fishing on the lake, privately owned by the company. As was a tradition in the North Country, a note on the door said, “Welcome to this sanctuary. You may use it if you wish, but leave it better than you found it.” Like finding a diamond in the rough.
I immediately planned to spend a couple of days recuperating from the strenuous run I had just made and restock. Somehow, I knew no one would come to my aid. All of my calls and messages hadn't been answered. More and more when I called, I got, “This circuit is no longer in service” or a fast busy signal indicating a problem with the circuit. While the satellite, with its solar panels, continued to relay calls, its earthly designations, including cell phones, were rapidly disappearing. I hoped that wouldn't happen to Julie's phone. Unfortunately, I was wrong. And I have been wrong many times since.
I took a hot shower. I made hot meals on the propane stove, much of the lodge was powered by windmills and solar panels. I luxuriated in a wonderful bed and hot shower. I tried to contact the outside world through the Internet. Many websites were no longer available. The only news that could be found was CNN and it was all bad. The exodus from the cities of the United States had an immediate and dramatic effect.
Millions died trying to find food and water from heat exhaustion, dehydration, starvation, and smoke and dust inhalation. Thousands died from gunshots as those that had protected their stores from those that had not. Even those that were survivalists and had stores of food and water found themselves driven out by fires, smoke, dust and marauders. At one point, it seemed the entire country was burning. Once these fires got into the cities, they burned without stopping for days or months and gave off toxic clouds of smoke from all the chemicals and plastics that were incinerated in the buildings. Some of the cities burned so hot they created firestorms reaching over 100 miles an hour. The hot breath of death, if not from the sun, was everywhere from the forests to the cities.
It was no better in Europe or South America where the rain forests were on fire, having experienced drought for the first time. In Central America, millions walked northward, only to find nothing to eat or drink in the United States after they crossed what used to be the Rio Grande and was now nothing more than a dry caked mud riverbed. When the rains did come, they were muddy deluges that caused floods and mudslides. Hurricanes devastated coastlines throughout the world in the tropics and dumped torrential rains on the temperate zones, only to turn to drought again after the floodwaters receded and the mud rapidly dried.
Each day that I called Julie, it got worse. “Hi, I don't know where to begin. They keep coming back and now we hear gunfire in the distance all the time. We are making our cooking fire on the ashes of the cabin so that it will look like no one is here. At noon today, we had to interrupt our lunch, quickly put out the fire, and run to our hideout again because they came.
Fortunately, they make so much noise we can hear them at least a half mile away. It doesn't look like we have any chance of rebuilding until they're all gone. I don't know if this is the same group that came the other night or not. From all the gunfire, there may be several groups fighting each other. We try not to be seen from the water, because there are boats on the lake all the time and we believe that they are marauders, too. When I first came there were only fishermen on the lake. I'm really scared now that they will find us or we will get too exhausted trying to hide all the time. How are we going to prepare for winter if they keep harassing us like this?” I could hear her sobbing in the background.
“Julie… Julie… You know I love you and would be there to protect you if I could. Please get your wits about you and deal with this as best you can. You've got the right strategy. You just have to wait them out. After they've got all they want or need, they'll leave… Or kill each other off. You have stores they don't know about and can't find. You'll just have to outlast them. That's all.”
“Okay… It just gets too much, that's all. I need to sleep now… too tired. Bye.”
“Bye… Sweet dreams. I'll call tomorrow…” I was really worried and anxious. I wanted to get on the plane and fly there--now! So far, they had escaped detection, but I didn't know how long before something terrible would happen. I started to cry. It wasn't long before something did.
The next day, around noon, I finished up my morning chores around the lodge and was contemplating how I might get to Julie and Frank faster before winter, when my phone rang. It was Julie, and she was hysterical.
“Oh my God… They've done it! They're setting fires and the woods are all so dry, so tinder dry, that the fires are everywhere and the smoke is getting almost unbearable here. We may have to leave soon because a wall of fire is about a half-mile away and coming our way. The only thing we can think of is packing some stuff in the canoe and getting out on the lake and covering our faces with wet cloth to block the smoke.” She was crying loudly, clearly panicked.
“Now, now… Try to think. Try to think of everything before the fire gets there. Loading the canoe is a good idea, try to stay near the shore so that you won't be seen out on the lake or they may try to come and attack you there. Let Uncle Frank help you. I know he knows what to do. Call me anytime. I haven't left here yet. I'm stocking up on food for my trip south. Take care and beware. Keep your guns handy and surprise them if you have to. Kill them before they kill you. Don't give them any opportunity. Remember… call me.”
“I will… I will…” Julie hung up without saying goodbye.
I was so frustrated and powerless that I wanted to smash the phone. But I contained myself, knowing I would need the phone, if only to hear more of their plight.
