As the day winded down, the less Mark talked. His throat felt swollen and he coughed a lot. He couldn’t even finish the broth he had for evening meal, it came right back up.
By night, he was out of the large room and back in the medical area again. An intravenous in his arm, but it kept failing. They said his veins were weak.
When did it happen? How did he turn so fast in a snap of a finger? The nurse explained to him that they suspected he had radiation poisoning, but there was no way to be sure without watching his DNA. It was a wait and see and now… they saw.
He had been in what was called the latent stage, and while he felt fine, it was like a viral hacker entered his body and snuck in damage without notice.
“How bad is it?” Mark asked.
“We don’t know. It’s hard to tell,” the nurse said. “We don’t know how much exposure you had.”
“I was out there the same amount of time as my brother.”
“Each person is different. Some people recover, some don’t. The next few days will tell.”
At least he would live a few days, if the nurse was right. Mark doubted that because he felt like death.
Soon his every thought was consumed with his son and he grew angry with himself. How selfish he was. How unbelievably selfish. He didn’t even think about his actions or how they would affect his son. He said goodbye, believing he would be back.
Now he pictured his son crying and alone. A seven year old boy lost in a devastated world. If something happened to his mother, would little Mark find food? Would he know not to drink water?
It was those thoughts that prompted him to start that letter. Somehow, someway, he would get the note to his son.
While sitting there trying to think of his next line, the door opened and Regis walked in.
“Hey, Little Brother.” He shut the door. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
“I’m sorry.” Regis sat on the bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” Regis smiled.
“I have an IV if you wanna share?”
“No, I’m good. I came to check on you and to see if you want some updates and know what’s going on.”
“Yeah, I would.”
“They haven’t confirmed whether or not we surrendered and are occupied. I would hope and think we aren’t, that the other countries have just as much to clean up.”
“That would suck if they didn’t.”
“Tell me about it,” Regis said. “Zeke, despite my protesting, is moving out tomorrow. He volunteered to help with aid stations and move people to smaller, less populated areas for help.”
“That’s not a bad thing, Rege.”
“I know. I’m just scared for him. He thinks he will be able to find Kit that way.”
“Well, we know she’s in one of two towns.”
“I’m sure we’ll find her because our father is arriving tomorrow.”
Mark sat up some. “He is?”
“He is coming up and they are locating all those people who were supposed to be in New Mexico, they’re moving them and us down there. Here. There. I don’t get why it matters?” Regis leaned forward as if he noticed the notebook on Mark’s lap. “What are you doing?”
“I’m writing a letter to Markie.”
Regis nodded.
“I’m such an asshole, Rege, I am. So much wasted time. “
“There’s still time left,” Regis said. “Maybe after we get you down there and you get better, then we can go north to Washington and look for Markie. Hell maybe even dad knows where he is. None of us talked to him.”
Mark shook his head.
“No? Dad doesn’t, why would he?”
“No, I hope he does. If he doesn’t, I don’t want to go to New Mexico.”
“What do you want to do?” Regis asked.
“I don’t think I have the time you think we have. I think… as soon as I can, I want to go try to find Markie. Give him this letter.” Mark laid his hand on the notebook. “Even if it’s the last thing I do.”
TWENTY-FIVE – Red, Blue, Green
When Abe first met Harland, he found it hard to believe he was a doctor. Although he did first encounter him at the hospital. Harland was on the gruff side, didn’t use big impressive words and spoke short sentences. He was a simple man, but a highly talented one at that.
Even in the shelter, he struck Abe as the crazy kind of guy who lived on a farm growing weed and waiting for the end of the world. That was just Harland’s preferred environment. Once he was in his pocket at the hospital, he transformed into a medical professional.
When they arrived at the hospital that first day, Abe wasn’t worried about radiation or anything, he was just glad to be productive again. Kit was, as well. It seemed as if all her neuroticism about getting ill went out the window when she really saw the ill.
Her first words upon arrival, matched Abe’s thoughts. “Where did all these people come from?”
The town of Maltese wasn’t tiny, under six thousand residents, a lot of which were military personnel. The town had been spared, so where did the people come from?
“Ignorance,” Harland said. “A lot of people just thought after a day or two it was fine to come out. Now they’re feeling that. The injuries, the really sick people, they’re from outside this town. Yesterday, emergency services started going out at night, looking to see if people were walking, camping, making their way from Colorado Springs.”
“That was good thinking,” Abe said.
“Well, if you look at it. If you were spared and your city blew up, where would you go? The next town. How would you get there… walk.”
There were actually a lot of volunteers, but Harland and another doctor were it as far as physicians. There were some nurses and they were needed on the floor and in the emergency care places.
Kit was given the task of checking people in and taking names. That way those with any medical experience could help out elsewhere.
Abe left the hospital and went to the elementary school. They had to move those who had taken shelter there to other areas, and prepare the gymnasium for patients. They only had forty-two cots and Abe was told that wasn’t going to be enough.
How would they get more? He questioned that. They were making a lot of space, and were getting a pretty big set up ready. He learned after a few hours, that Schriever had gone ‘radio silent’ to the small towns, but opened up communication to inform Maltese they would be a bringing in supplies to make them an official medical station. The elementary school was the point of interest.
Abe did what was asked of him and kept working. It kept his mind focused on other things. In the shelter he tried not to show it, but he couldn’t stop thinking of the events. Was his brother alright? Would he ever see him again? What would become of their lives? Somehow, Abe knew rebuilding would never be complete in his life time.
Since he didn’t plan on dying anytime soon, he had a lot of years that he had no idea how he would fill.
Was just surviving enough? How was that possible? He just knew anything the first wave of survivors did was going to set in motion the survival of generations to come. Abe and so many had their work cut out for them. Like right there at the elementary school, Abe would do his part.
Kit was given what she thought was an easy job. At least when she was told what she would do, she thought it would be easy. A sit down job holding a pencil, and taking names.
She also was inside, so Harland said she didn’t have to run back to the shelter after an hour, but she would have to go back and spend twice as much time back there as she did working.