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pt. XII Croatoan

pt. XII Croatoan

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pt. XII

The Earth wobbles. And because of this wobble the planet can be closer or farther away from the sun. It is not on rails after all. During the time of the dinosaurs, the Earth was the closest it had ever been. During the Great Ice Age, it was at its furthest.

With gravity and physics being constant in 1586, the Earth dipped deeply and moved just far enough away from the sun to inflict a mini ice age on the Earth. The equator experienced Fall for the first time since the Last Glacial Maximum, which occurred approximately 20,000 years before that. This time the ice sheets were certainly far from their furthest extent, but there was much potential for them to have done so. Humanity suffered greatly for almost two decades.

Especially those unlucky enough to find a pristine island on a beautiful coast of a newly discovered continent to call home.

“Year two and there is still no sign of a return from England, I demand we seek solutions that are not suicide,” said the baker's wife, still plump but a lot less employed since her home and business was flushed into the sea.

“The queen has not forgotten us.” the interim governor, Ananias Dare says pointing out at the crowd with a jabbing forefinger for emphasis. They are all members of the Roanoke colony, the survivors anyway, and among them many of the local Indian tribes facing the same problems have joined them. He is angry and it is coming out in his voice. Even he, a man with no formal education, knows that acting out in anger will only make things worse. The clouds are red. The wind is frigid and smells of snow. It’s June, for Christ's sake. Things are bad. Mini earthquakes keep shaking things up, daily. One occurred an hour ago knocking down the remaining portion of the church. They are getting it from both sides. An intemperate ocean on one side and an unstable earth on the other. This impromptu community meeting is a desperate attempt to get answers from a man who has avoided finding any by throwing himself into the effort of saving the colony. Fifty healthy individuals remain from the original 115. The number jumps to 80 with the children willing and able to work. Around 7 are bedridden, but that doesn’t last long with the bedridden joining the dead before long. The rest are assumed with Jesus, but hope remains and he refuses to add many names to the roll of dead because of it.

“We must consider moving further inland, maybe even taking up the Croatoans on their offer,” another man demands. He is bare-chested and wearing a kilt with sturdy mid-length leather boots. He is known as a dedicated member of the colony. His words have much weight.

“Never,” a woman near the front says almost too quiet to hear.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Why wouldn’t she abandon us?” another voice calls out. The man attached is red-faced and desperate. “She calls her favorite back to England and he takes all her favor with him. Even God has abandoned us. We are all dead to her. We died the moment John White stepped off his tender in London.”

Another quake. Soft. Not bad this time. The leaves fight each other harder in response.

“There is no mail service across the Atlantic, no daily newspapers. Weekly or yearly for that matter, also. Anything could have happened. The Rapture, another plague, War with Spain. Hells, the whole of Great Britain could have fallen into the ocean for all we know, but you’ve lost faith in our blessed mother so easily? She would want us to survive. She would demand it!” Dare’s voice is tired his body weak with weary and why shouldn’t it be? Since the storm, it has been nothing but work. Work re-digging the well. Rebuilding barns and homes. Even the church was reduced to splinters. They haven’t even calculated the full number of dead, some are still under rubble and already going back to the Earth. The smell was only tolerable in that nothing could be done.

“This is a failed colony!” This man wears the leather breeches and slippers of the Croatoan people, who have taken great interest in helping the residents of Roanoke Island. Without them, it is likely they would never have prospered and gotten to this point.

“You would have us join them?”

“They took amazing losses lately also.”

“They are not from Roanoke, why should we join them? They should join us.” Dare’s wool British-style shirt is open to his sternum and stained with earth and blood. He has been in talks with an elder of the Croatoan people. Calm and reassuring, they passed a pipe and quietly studied each other through their language barrier. “Their chief claims the Mother is angry and until she finishes her tantrum, all of her children should tremble. I believe God wants us to remain here and wait for Governor White’s return.”

The crowd grows hostile at this.

John White left him in charge, left and never came back. Ananias Dare hates his father-in-law for that even more now that he is a widower who not only just buried his wife but also two of his children, the youngest two. Sally and Rose, nine and ten. He watched helpless, as they washed out to sea. He shudders thinking of their end. He almost wishes God would let him swim out after them. But no, he has a mission to save those that are left. Even those who have come to him for help. And maybe he is obligated because, over the last three years, none of them could have survived alone.

It is while this near riot is taking place that a giant sinkhole suddenly appears in the exact center of the colony. And then through that sinkhole trudges a track-laying train engine shaped like a wedge. And in that train? How about the great Spanish Inventor Jerónimo de Ayanz y Beaumont?

Senior Beaumont is famous for railroad tracks and for going to the Americas in 1588 and not coming back. He was declared dead 25 years later.

When did he die? Did he ever die? These are both very good questions, questions with no answers especially for Rick as he continues to fall through the fog.