Free Gaia Dreams (Gaiaverse Book 1) by Pamela Davis

handle disposal of the dead.
The bulldozer is quiet as workers take a break from their horrifying task. They
are using the bulldozer to shovel bodies, the dead of Los Angeles, into the
pit. Due to unseasonably high temperatures, and the lack of any facilities
large enough to cope with the problem, officials have no choice but to perform
mass burials, hoping to prevent the spread of disease. Many of these bodies
could not be identified since survivors are so separated across the city and
travel is near impossible. Most people will never know where their loved ones
are buried. This death pit is only one of four, and officials expect that more
will be needed. As one worker told me moments ago, tears streaming down his
face, 'We have no choice. We have to do this to try and save the living.'
Casualty estimates as of this morning put the number of dead at 308,537,
however, that number is expected to climb dramatically in the days ahead as
more bodies are found in the rubble that is now Los Angeles. This is Maria
Santiago, live from the City of Angels, for SNN."
    Sonoran Desert, Arizona
    Margaret sighed as she was put on hold for the
third time. Her hand was sweaty against the plastic of the cellular telephone. "Oh
well," she thought, "at least they didn't hang up on me yet." It was her sixth
call of the day. She was trying to get someone in some kind of authority to
listen to her prediction of a massive hurricane that would hit the Gulf coast
in two days. Margaret had watched the portable television with its satellite
dish for the past day searching for any meteorological reports that would
indicate a tropical depression forming anywhere near the Gulf. Of course, there
weren't any reports like that, but she had hoped there might be some indication
of the storm to come, giving people time to evacuate. A voice from the phone
interrupted her thinking.
    "Hello Ms....Larson is it? I'm Andy Jordan, one
of the meteorologists here at KNBS Biloxi. Ms. Larson, I've checked all our
satellite reports and there is no sign of any potential hurricane forming
anywhere near the Gulf. So you don't need to worry."
    "But, can't a hurricane develop quickly? I'm
just saying I think you need to be aware that this one could happen suddenly,
without much warning...." Her voice trailed off as she realized there was no
way to make him believe her.
    "Look, Ms. Larson. I don't know if you think you
are some kind of psychic or just someone who is frightened of hurricanes, but
with these storms we generally have several days and sometimes a week or more
to warn the public and prepare for any emergency. Today's technology allows us
to know what is happening in the atmosphere minute by minute. Now, I'm sorry,
but I have a broadcast to prepare so I need to run. We appreciate your calling
and hope you watch--"
    "Wait! Don't hang up yet, please!" Margaret said
firmly, attempting to keep desperation out of her voice. "Mr. Jordan--Andy,
thank you for taking the time to hear me out. Did your secretary take down my
number earlier?"
    "Er...yes, I have it here."
    "After this hurricane hits--and it will hit in
two days--afterwards, if you are still alive, please call me. Remember what I've
told you. All the oil rigs in the Gulf will be destroyed, thousands of people
will die and more will be homeless, oil refineries in Texas and Louisiana will
be wiped out and, well, I guess that's enough to tell you. Just promise me that
you'll remember what I've said--and Andy, when it starts, get to high ground
and safety early on."
    "Uh, sure, Ms. Larson. I'll be sure to be
careful. Now, I really have to go. You take care of yourself, you hear?"
    Margaret slowly pulled the phone away from her
ear, the dial tone sounding as ominous to her as the air raid sirens she
remembered from childhood when the schools would rehearse an attack by the
Soviets and have them all hide under their desks. "And my warnings are about as
effective as the duck-and-cover strategy would have been too. He didn't