Each step he took, he heard the rain. It was heavy and it sounded as if it fell hard and steady.
That had to be a good sign, it had to be. Rain was washing it all away.
He emerged into a small open area, probably the reception area and he could see the street. A hot mist blew in with the slight wind along with the smell of burning rubber. He covered his mouth, with the flashlight still lit in his hand he walked to the door frame of the busted double glass doors.
Outside he watched people move on the street, small fires burned. Across the way he could see people huddled inside the building.
He also saw the orange and yellow glowing fog hovering above the street. Terrence figured that would go away soon with the rain.
Stepping outside he felt the heat increase, it had to be over a hundred degrees. The rain sizzled against the ground and was so heavy it stung with every drop that landed on him and rolled down his face.
Turning to his left, Terrence took in the vision of the sky. Dark as night and it was only five pm. In the distance a burning glow illuminate the sky.
The world was on fire.
It was time to go back in.
Turning, Terrence saw it in the lit beam of his light.
The rain. It looked different. He ran his hand down his face then shone the flash light on it.
Black.
The rain was black as tar and the puddles formed with black liquid.
Instantly Terrence panicked and ran back inside. What was he thinking? What was wrong with him? He didn’t return to the garage, instead he sought out the rest room off the reception area. He flew inside, set the flash light on the sink, pulled off his tee shirt and turned on the faucet. He splashed his face frantically, but the water slowed down and stopped before he could wash off his arms. He spun, grabbed the flashlight and pushed open a stall. He shone the light in the toilet bowl, the water was clean and Terrence dropped to his knees by the commode, he frantically used the water in the bowl to wash his arms, head, face and hands. When he was done, sitting on the floor, he leaned against the stall and immediately sprung forward as the metal of the stall stung his back. His insides trembled and Terrence wanted to scream over his own stupidity.
He took a moment then decided against looking for the water heater. He would do so when he had a clearer mind. Right then and there he needed to see his family.
He also needed to rest.
He went to the second garage level, and went to his car, to find another shirt. After he placed it on both Macy and his mother asked if he was alright.
Terrence simply replied, “I’m tired. I need to rest.”
He looked around. Kira, his youngest was curled up on a seat that had been removed from a van, and Mylena was seated on a van bench seat perched against a wall near their car.
Terrence saw enough room there and joined her. He sat down with his side against the seat, facing her. He was afraid to put his back against anything.
“Are you okay, Daddy?” Mylena asked.
“Yeah, baby.” He reached across and stroked her hair.
“Don’t you feel well?”
“I’m fine.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I’m tired. I need to rest. It’s been a long bad day.”
Terrence leaned to his side, placing his head against the concrete wall. It was cool and felt good against his head. He may not have been truthful to his daughter about feeling well, but he was telling the truth about it being a long bad day. For Terrence it really was a long day, he just didn’t realize how bad it actually was for him.
TWENTY – Life or Death
Up until that very moment in time, Deana regretted never having any kids. Now she found herself thanking God that she had no children to worry about. She hadn’t prayed in years and the words she muttered weren’t for help, they were, ‘Thank you.’
Her faith was tested earlier in life when she was young by things she’d now considered drivel. She went back and forth between ‘is there, or isn’t there’ a God. If indeed there was a God, then Deana couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that he would let this happen.
She was well aware that she was taught that God gave man free will. Free will be damned, it was beyond that. If there was a God, he should have stepped in and stopped this, instead he abandoned man.
If mankind was so stupid to blow themselves up, then perhaps humanity deserved what it got.
Maybe not all of humanity. For sure the lawmakers and leaders. Certainly not the child that lay on the operating table before her.
Procedures were raw and not as sterile as she liked. Deana wasn’t a doctor. She was a nurse practitioner who hadn’t had hands on interaction in years, she had gone the administration route. All the doctors were busy and those seasoned nurses that remained suddenly got their field MD, whether they liked it or not.
Her heart broke for the little girl that she worked on. The child was no more than three years old, someone found her on the street. The person that found her and brought her in said she had been tossed among the rubble, probably from the blast winds. Her leg was broken in two… literally, her skull fractured and the skin on her face and chest badly burned. Yet, she was still alive, fighting and breathing… whimpering in pain.
Deana’s heart broke for her.
She sedated the child heavily while she worked on her leg and an aide cleaned her wounds.
The entire time the little girl they called Mary was sedated, Deana begged in her mind for the child to pass. ‘Please little one, let go. Go in your sleep so you don’t have to wake up and feel anything.’
That wasn’t going to happen, it was too easy.
Little Mary, who did nothing in her life to deserve the pain she was destined to suffer. She was strong enough against her injuries, however, she probably wasn’t going to be strong enough against the radiation sickness that would soon pulverize her tiny frame.
Mary would be like many others.
Horrifically sick.
Early after the bombs fell, the initial patients seeking treatment were cuts from glass, minor wounds and burns. With each passing hour the severity increased. By evening throes of people who were closer to D.C., but survived the blast, were making their way through the ruins, unknowingly trudging through high levels of radiation.
The evening patients came in covered with a black soot.
Deana knew that the highest levels of radiation came after the first hour, pretty much anyone that came in before evening received a lethal dose. By nighttime they were already exhibiting signs of severe radiation poisoning. She told another nurse that those who came in that first day, who walked outside and were exposed, wouldn’t last seventy-two hours, if they were lucky. That was the reality of it. Another reality was the patients already in the hospital, moved to the hallways or not, were exposed to radiation. Although low levels it would still accumulate, and sadly within five days they too would suffer the consequences.
It was a mess. They were too close to the city to be safe from lethal doses, and even if they were spared because radiation moved east, they would get fallout from other areas.
The truth was, hoards of people came to the hospital, but too many to help and shelter properly. They had to close the doors and turn people away. People didn’t leave, instead they camped out just beyond the door, huddled by campfires consisting of contaminated wood. Injured and scared they waited for a bed in the hospital to open up. A bed that would become available only when somebody died. Unfortunately, those outside the door in the radiation wouldn’t live as long as those inside.
Deana made decisions that she never would have believed she would have to make in her lifetime. If it was up to her she’d squeeze them all in, but there wasn’t enough room. Those who crowded the corridors, garage and basement, were waiting for help that was beyond those inside to give. Bodies burned so badly they weren’t recognizable. Charred and sick, there was nothing that could be done for them accept to try and make them comfortable. Then came the moral dilemma. Use what little mediation they had on those who would die anyhow within twelve hours, or save it for someone who would live?