Without Summer Chapter Three
See Prologue for Disclaimers and Chapter Warnings
See Chapter Two for previous chapter
Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
There were two kinds of Preppers in the days before J-Day: those that prepped and those who believed. Those that prepped for the possible end of the world (as they knew it), assumed that they would see it coming. They watched the news, read all the papers, and they pored over countless internet websites about the ‘Prepper’s lifestyle’ and surviving disasters.
Many thought that an uptick in foreign wars, or the collapse of the world’s stock market, or maybe even rising gasoline prices would herald the ‘end of the world’. They bragged about their preparations to each other in survival chat rooms while they diversified their accounts, and hid money under their mattresses. They stocked up on six months’ worth of provisions and bought a gun to scare potential robbers. They never really thought that anything could happen. It was just the ‘in’ thing to do. Their preparations were nothing like those of the believers…
-The Years Without Summer: A History by Unknown
Twenty-five years before J-Day:
An endlessly blue sky over lush forests greeted Miranda as she stepped down onto a tarmac that was mostly hard packed gravel and dirt. The simple runway that the single piston Beechcraft Bonanza G36 had landed at was the only one present at the small, private airstrip. As loosened dust from the landing blew up across the tops of her Christian Dior, Miranda acknowledged that she might not have been dressed appropriately for the trip. But then again, this was an impromptu trip. Her assistant had nearly had a paroxysm when Miranda announced that she was going to be out of the office for the rest of the day. ‘Oh, well,’ Miranda thought with an amused smile, ‘Alicia would get over it.’
“Miranda,” a voice called to her over the noise of the pilot powering down the aircraft. She looked over to see her realtor jog over the tarmac towards her. He was a rather non-descript man, average height and weight. He wore a simple grey suit and tie with a white shirt, nothing expensive just... average. He was a man who easily blended into the background when not needed. He shook her hand and walked her over to the soft-top jeep that he had waiting to take her the six and a half miles to the cabin.
The trip was relatively short and Miranda enjoyed the passing scenery as the realtor spoke about the property that he planned to show her. Miranda exited the jeep when the realtor came to a stop in front of a large, rustic-looking log cabin at the edge of a lake. The property, situated in the bowl of a valley and the mountainous peaks overlooking the area appealed to something in her. She slowly walked over to the quaint pier that jutted out into the water and watched as the clouds cast reflected shadows across its tranquil waters. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the brisk, air.
"Well what do you think?"
Startled, Miranda turned at the question, her eyes opening to focus on the new person who had joined them. He leaned against the cabin next to the open doorway with a cocky smile gracing his model gorgeous features. The man, Daniel Beacon, looked to be in his late fifties and was in good shape by many standards. He was also brilliant, Miranda knew, from his reputation. A contractor by trade, Daniel had the habit, a gift really, of designing and building real estate oddities that someone with Miranda's increased income (courtesy of her new position as Editor and Chief of American Runway) and convictions might be inclined purchase after a little renovation.
‘Like this cabin for example,' Miranda thought. She strolled unhurriedly away from the cabin's picturesque views and past the two men that stood sentry beside the doorway. She strolled across the room taking in everything. The cabin was fully furnished. It contained four bedrooms and three bathrooms and had an open floor design with several windows that created an overall feeling of spaciousness in what could be a confining space.
Throughout the cabin, the walls were a light periwinkle blue with cream trim but the hard wood floors and cabinets were a deep chocolate. Entering the kitchen area, she ran her fingertips across the granite counter-tops, taking simple pleasure in their smooth texture. A back-splash of glass colored in cool toned blues, grays and coppers contrasted neatly with the stainless steel appliances in a way in which Miranda approved. Overall, it was a lovely space. However, the cabin itself was not the real reason why Daniel had brought the property to Miranda's attention.
"I'm assuming you like it," Daniel's voice drew her from her thoughts again as she reentered the main living area.
Miranda raised an eyebrow at his words, turning to regard him where he stood near the sitting area's central fireplace. He stood with a wide stance and arms akimbo reminding Miranda of some kind of Peter Pan figure. 'A boy,' Miranda thought, ‘One who never wanted to grow up.’ She reminded him with a wry smirk, "You know what they say about 'assumptions' Mr. Beacon.”
"Granted," Daniel, conceded the point, properly chastised. He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets self-consciously, as if he had heard her earlier thoughts. Still smiling, he asked, “So do you like it?"
She nodded minutely. "However, this wasn't exactly what I was imagining when you said you had 'the perfect property' for me and my needs, Daniel."
He broke out into a huge grin and clapped his hands together sharply in the quiet air conditioning of the room. "That's because you haven't seen the best part yet!"
Daniel led her back into the kitchen and over a large set of pantry doors. The doors were slatted with interchanging strips frosted glass and the same dark chocolate wood that was prominent throughout the rest of the kitchen. He pushed the doors aside and Miranda followed him into the spacious, walk-in style pantry.
When they reached the back, Daniel opened a utility box and pushed several of the switches from one side to the other. Miranda was pleasantly surprised when a section of the wall in front of her swung in and away from her. The door slid smoothly, its gears, hydraulics or air compressors barely making a sound as he revealed the hidden hallway.
“Where does this lead?” She asked, peering around his shoulder as he further pushed the door open. The hall, whitewashed to take advantage of the soft LED lights that marked its passage in spaced intervals, was stone not concrete as was the floor. As Miranda followed Daniel down the hallway and down a flight of stairs, she could feel the temperature drop dramatically.
“I took into consideration, the ideas and concerns you sent me in that email.” He said in reply, “And I know this is me assuming again, but I made some initial renovations that I think you’ll approve of.” Miranda counted two more descending flights of stairs before they came to another door sealed with a wheel bolt lock. “There’s a vacuum containment airlock on this door,” Daniel explained, before showing Miranda how to cycle through the lock. “It acts as a decontamination chamber.” Miranda looked up at him sharply. “Don’t worry. There is no decontaminant in the system as of yet. I won’t ruin your clothing,” he assured her.
“If you do, you’ll be paying the dry cleaning bill.”
He waved off her threat and ushered her inside ahead of him. The lights inside the airlock turned on automatically. “This door has to lock and the air cycle before the door will open on the other end.”
“Could the outer door be jammed?” She asked, watching as he sealed them in. The sudden noise and blast of cold air rapidly cycling through the 4x6 airlock nearly drowned out her question.
Daniel nodded at the direction of her thoughts, “That’s why it’s a manual lock.” He raised his voice so she could hear him over the decontamination procedure. “Normally, an electric lock will seem to have more security than a manual one, but even though I have the area beyond the door sheltered against a localized EMP, an electric lock could be damaged by something as simple as a short in the wiring. With a manual lock, you just have to worry about the manual parts.”
The decontamination cycled down to a stop. Not knowing if he had answered her question fully he added, “If all else fails, I’ll show you the failsafe when you buy the property.”
“More assumptions, Mr. Beacon?” Miranda teased quietly with a smirk crossing her face. Daniel stepped through the airlock and lifted a hand in a courteous fashion to help her through. She took it and looked down as she took careful steps into the room, noting absentmindedly the non-slip mat on either side of the doorway. He stood in front of her when she looked up, his larger frame blocking her view of the room. Seeing the faint glint of amusement in his eyes, she raised an eyebrow in a ‘Well? Carry on,’ gesture.
He waved her forward, stepping aside as he did and Miranda got her first glimpse of the space beyond. She stopped still, marveling at the sight. “No assumptions,” he assured her. Miranda could hear the smile in his voice. She tried to keep her thoughts hidden behind a blank mask because it was foolish to let a seller know how much you wanted something. However, Miranda really, really wanted this property.
Miranda had a feeling that she had failed. She could feel Daniel’s eyes on her face once again and here was no way she could keep the awe and naked want off her face. She could feel his satisfaction at her yearning radiate out from him like sunlight and she hated him just a little bit.
“No, not an assumption,” he stated clearly, “certainty.”
TBC... Chapter Four
See Chapter Two for previous chapter
Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
There were two kinds of Preppers in the days before J-Day: those that prepped and those who believed. Those that prepped for the possible end of the world (as they knew it), assumed that they would see it coming. They watched the news, read all the papers, and they pored over countless internet websites about the ‘Prepper’s lifestyle’ and surviving disasters.
Many thought that an uptick in foreign wars, or the collapse of the world’s stock market, or maybe even rising gasoline prices would herald the ‘end of the world’. They bragged about their preparations to each other in survival chat rooms while they diversified their accounts, and hid money under their mattresses. They stocked up on six months’ worth of provisions and bought a gun to scare potential robbers. They never really thought that anything could happen. It was just the ‘in’ thing to do. Their preparations were nothing like those of the believers…
-The Years Without Summer: A History by Unknown
Twenty-five years before J-Day:
An endlessly blue sky over lush forests greeted Miranda as she stepped down onto a tarmac that was mostly hard packed gravel and dirt. The simple runway that the single piston Beechcraft Bonanza G36 had landed at was the only one present at the small, private airstrip. As loosened dust from the landing blew up across the tops of her Christian Dior, Miranda acknowledged that she might not have been dressed appropriately for the trip. But then again, this was an impromptu trip. Her assistant had nearly had a paroxysm when Miranda announced that she was going to be out of the office for the rest of the day. ‘Oh, well,’ Miranda thought with an amused smile, ‘Alicia would get over it.’
“Miranda,” a voice called to her over the noise of the pilot powering down the aircraft. She looked over to see her realtor jog over the tarmac towards her. He was a rather non-descript man, average height and weight. He wore a simple grey suit and tie with a white shirt, nothing expensive just... average. He was a man who easily blended into the background when not needed. He shook her hand and walked her over to the soft-top jeep that he had waiting to take her the six and a half miles to the cabin.
The trip was relatively short and Miranda enjoyed the passing scenery as the realtor spoke about the property that he planned to show her. Miranda exited the jeep when the realtor came to a stop in front of a large, rustic-looking log cabin at the edge of a lake. The property, situated in the bowl of a valley and the mountainous peaks overlooking the area appealed to something in her. She slowly walked over to the quaint pier that jutted out into the water and watched as the clouds cast reflected shadows across its tranquil waters. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the brisk, air.
"Well what do you think?"
Startled, Miranda turned at the question, her eyes opening to focus on the new person who had joined them. He leaned against the cabin next to the open doorway with a cocky smile gracing his model gorgeous features. The man, Daniel Beacon, looked to be in his late fifties and was in good shape by many standards. He was also brilliant, Miranda knew, from his reputation. A contractor by trade, Daniel had the habit, a gift really, of designing and building real estate oddities that someone with Miranda's increased income (courtesy of her new position as Editor and Chief of American Runway) and convictions might be inclined purchase after a little renovation.
‘Like this cabin for example,' Miranda thought. She strolled unhurriedly away from the cabin's picturesque views and past the two men that stood sentry beside the doorway. She strolled across the room taking in everything. The cabin was fully furnished. It contained four bedrooms and three bathrooms and had an open floor design with several windows that created an overall feeling of spaciousness in what could be a confining space.
Throughout the cabin, the walls were a light periwinkle blue with cream trim but the hard wood floors and cabinets were a deep chocolate. Entering the kitchen area, she ran her fingertips across the granite counter-tops, taking simple pleasure in their smooth texture. A back-splash of glass colored in cool toned blues, grays and coppers contrasted neatly with the stainless steel appliances in a way in which Miranda approved. Overall, it was a lovely space. However, the cabin itself was not the real reason why Daniel had brought the property to Miranda's attention.
"I'm assuming you like it," Daniel's voice drew her from her thoughts again as she reentered the main living area.
Miranda raised an eyebrow at his words, turning to regard him where he stood near the sitting area's central fireplace. He stood with a wide stance and arms akimbo reminding Miranda of some kind of Peter Pan figure. 'A boy,' Miranda thought, ‘One who never wanted to grow up.’ She reminded him with a wry smirk, "You know what they say about 'assumptions' Mr. Beacon.”
"Granted," Daniel, conceded the point, properly chastised. He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets self-consciously, as if he had heard her earlier thoughts. Still smiling, he asked, “So do you like it?"
She nodded minutely. "However, this wasn't exactly what I was imagining when you said you had 'the perfect property' for me and my needs, Daniel."
He broke out into a huge grin and clapped his hands together sharply in the quiet air conditioning of the room. "That's because you haven't seen the best part yet!"
Daniel led her back into the kitchen and over a large set of pantry doors. The doors were slatted with interchanging strips frosted glass and the same dark chocolate wood that was prominent throughout the rest of the kitchen. He pushed the doors aside and Miranda followed him into the spacious, walk-in style pantry.
When they reached the back, Daniel opened a utility box and pushed several of the switches from one side to the other. Miranda was pleasantly surprised when a section of the wall in front of her swung in and away from her. The door slid smoothly, its gears, hydraulics or air compressors barely making a sound as he revealed the hidden hallway.
“Where does this lead?” She asked, peering around his shoulder as he further pushed the door open. The hall, whitewashed to take advantage of the soft LED lights that marked its passage in spaced intervals, was stone not concrete as was the floor. As Miranda followed Daniel down the hallway and down a flight of stairs, she could feel the temperature drop dramatically.
“I took into consideration, the ideas and concerns you sent me in that email.” He said in reply, “And I know this is me assuming again, but I made some initial renovations that I think you’ll approve of.” Miranda counted two more descending flights of stairs before they came to another door sealed with a wheel bolt lock. “There’s a vacuum containment airlock on this door,” Daniel explained, before showing Miranda how to cycle through the lock. “It acts as a decontamination chamber.” Miranda looked up at him sharply. “Don’t worry. There is no decontaminant in the system as of yet. I won’t ruin your clothing,” he assured her.
“If you do, you’ll be paying the dry cleaning bill.”
He waved off her threat and ushered her inside ahead of him. The lights inside the airlock turned on automatically. “This door has to lock and the air cycle before the door will open on the other end.”
“Could the outer door be jammed?” She asked, watching as he sealed them in. The sudden noise and blast of cold air rapidly cycling through the 4x6 airlock nearly drowned out her question.
Daniel nodded at the direction of her thoughts, “That’s why it’s a manual lock.” He raised his voice so she could hear him over the decontamination procedure. “Normally, an electric lock will seem to have more security than a manual one, but even though I have the area beyond the door sheltered against a localized EMP, an electric lock could be damaged by something as simple as a short in the wiring. With a manual lock, you just have to worry about the manual parts.”
The decontamination cycled down to a stop. Not knowing if he had answered her question fully he added, “If all else fails, I’ll show you the failsafe when you buy the property.”
“More assumptions, Mr. Beacon?” Miranda teased quietly with a smirk crossing her face. Daniel stepped through the airlock and lifted a hand in a courteous fashion to help her through. She took it and looked down as she took careful steps into the room, noting absentmindedly the non-slip mat on either side of the doorway. He stood in front of her when she looked up, his larger frame blocking her view of the room. Seeing the faint glint of amusement in his eyes, she raised an eyebrow in a ‘Well? Carry on,’ gesture.
He waved her forward, stepping aside as he did and Miranda got her first glimpse of the space beyond. She stopped still, marveling at the sight. “No assumptions,” he assured her. Miranda could hear the smile in his voice. She tried to keep her thoughts hidden behind a blank mask because it was foolish to let a seller know how much you wanted something. However, Miranda really, really wanted this property.
Miranda had a feeling that she had failed. She could feel Daniel’s eyes on her face once again and here was no way she could keep the awe and naked want off her face. She could feel his satisfaction at her yearning radiate out from him like sunlight and she hated him just a little bit.
“No, not an assumption,” he stated clearly, “certainty.”
TBC... Chapter Four