The Cleansing

I survived. There were survivors other than me. Some praised God for their survival, some were looters, some were just pure evil, but most of the population had been annihilated. Why did we live? I am really not sure how to answer that, other than the fact God had a purpose for us.

Yes. I was one of the folks that believed in God and thanked Him. I still lived and though there was nothing, that I could see, there was something somewhere. It was my intention to find what I searched for.

A heart-wrenching scream came from a sinkhole. I tried to ignore it. Those people could not be helped. I could hear so much pain in those sobs, it brought tears to my eyes. I had no choice. The voice inside me said you must help, do not let them die alone.

I stumbled to the sinkhole and realized it was a lot deeper than I first thought. It was so dark down there, and I could hear not just one, but many voices blending as one, begging for help, begging for life, and begging for death.

It was like climbing down a mountain with no trail, my journey into the sinkhole. I was scared, probably more scared than I have ever been in my entire life, yet I continued on. No, I must go back. I have to go back, I did not think this through.

To travel into the darkness unknown, I must have light. Going down was a lot easier than climbing back up. I had a lot of trouble getting a grip on the dirt and maintaining hold. God had my hand though. I could feel His push, I could feel His strength, and though I had survived much and had no sleep in a long, long time, I felt alive.

I made it to the top without incident and now my problem was to find light while dodging the fire that still raged, and avoiding the live power lines that were swinging in the breeze. My breath was coming in gasps for dust and ash was swirling strong.

Clothes, purses, money, and many objects littered the ground. I ripped a piece of cloth from a shirt and covered my nose and mouth. It seemed to help somewhat.

Another mighty rumble and the moans and screams were silenced. I could have been in there, I could have been swallowed up in that sinkhole like the others that I had thought to help. I cried as I thought of the people that were buried alive and though I prayed for them I was really glad that I was not one of them.

Once again God had seen fit to rescue me.

Part 2

I wandered away. I had no destination in mind. I had no money, no car, and mad laughter burst forth. Why would I need money? What good would a car do? Gas was fueling the flames of cities, and the cars were in sinkholes, burned, totaled out, and only God knew what else.

Yep, looks like it is back to the Stone Age. My laughter turned to tears. The farther I walked the more bleak things looked. I had a deep thirst, but nothing for miles around.

Once this area had thriving farmland with a huge pond full of catfish. Mr. Baker had a bunch of goats running loose near the west side fence. They kept the grass cut close and gave enough milk to cook with.

The east side held a herd of cows, must have been two hundred in all, and off a corner to the right was a big old red bull named Bully. Yeah, we all thought it was a funny name for a tough old bull, but it sorta grew on ya.

A big two story white frame house sat back towards the edge of the woods. Used to be some good smells coming from the kitchen. I could taste it now, fresh apple pie…well maybe I cannot taste it now.

My throat was closing for lack of moisture. My breath was shallow and the pond, tears that I had tried to hold back ran full force down my cheeks, the pond was full of dead cows, debris, and some kind of fuel. Looked like Bully had fought to the end. Well, there was no drinking out of that pond.

My steps were staggered now. Several times I fell, and several times I forced myself to get up. I saw the house in the distance, or what was left of it. Maybe, just maybe. One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other.

And then I heard a familiar sound that turned my self-pitying tears into happy tears. I looked and sure enough one of the milk goats was alive, and it looked to be full of milk.

Chapter 3

I was closing the distance to the house, and by the look of things, it was not doing too well. The back corner was tilted, leaning against the trees in the forests, shards of glass were scattered about, falling from the broken windows. I took a deep breath. So what was my plan? If I could make it inside before it leaned too far, and grab a few things, I might be able to get back

out before another incident. I needed something to put the goat’s milk in any way. After I milked the goat I could drink and rest, but for now, I needed to get inside that house.

Each step I took the goat followed. I was staggering now, having a lot of trouble walking straight. I was tired, hot, and thirsty, but I knew I had to move forward. I pushed on. Finally, I reached the house and cautiously stepped onto the porch, and took a slow light step. Okay, so it held. Another slow step, and another, till I reached the door. It hung on one hinge but as I grasped the handle the whole door fell off landing with a loud thud. I jumped and my heart jumped with me.

There was safe passage to the kitchen, but not beyond. This is where the goat stopped, waiting, watching. I almost took a step, before I looked. There was a huge hole in the middle of the kitchen floor. Floorboards scattered about, nails sticking up, and a damp musty smell, but across the room, I saw a most beautiful sight. It was an unopened 2 liter Pepsi. I knew it was hot, but right now it did not matter.

If I could ease my way around the edge of the hole and hold tightly to the counter, I could possibly reach it. I kept telling myself as I eased myself around, I would not look down in the hole, but I did. I shivered. It was a massive hole, very deep, and dark.

I made it to the Pepsi and reached for it, at the same time I felt the floor shift. I held tightly to the counter and felt it sinking into the hole. I only had one possible choice. I jumped and prayed that God would see me safely to the other side, and He did. I ran the goat following and made it out just as the whole house caved into the massive hole.

Well, I did not find anything to put goat’s milk in, but I did have a hot 2 liter, Pepsi. The goat looked up at me and I patted it on top of the head. I opened the Pepsi, and I drank and drank, and even shared it with the goat.

“Hey goat, you need a name.” At that moment flames shot up from the hole and I ran, good thing too because an explosion threw debris everywhere. I figured I was at a safe distance, so I stopped to catch my breath. “Now what?” I asked no one in particular, seeing as how there was no one there anyway. Evidently, the goat thought I was talking to her because she took off running like something had spooked her. “Hey goat, goat come back, I need you. I will give you a name.” But still, the goat ran so I had no choice but to catch her. With the last possible strength, I had, I chased that darn goat. She was teasing me too. I would almost catch her she would watch and then take off running. Finally, I knew where she was going. I could not believe my eyes.

In the midst of all the chaos, smoke, fire, dust, and green, poisonous water, sat a big red barn. It was in perfect shape. The door was open, and I could see hay baled, and from where I stood no damage inside or out.

Thank you, Lord, for giving me a place to rest. I followed the goat inside. I do not know why but at that moment she became Nessie.