“I know.”
“Why not have him stay here? He can stay with me. I give you my word, I’ll watch him. I’ll put him to work, but he’ll be safe here.”
“Harland, I can’t ask that of you.”
“You’re not,” Harland said. “We’ll need him around here. We’re gonna start our long term plan for the town and lots of hands are needed. Trust me.”
“I do. And…” Kit exhaled. “I accept. My mind is so cluttered right now, I think I need to work and help out.”
“You sure?” Harland asked.
“Yes. Very. Thank you for everything,.” She started to walk but stopped. “Harland? What’s next?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what’s next? I mean, what do you think is the best we can expect”
“That’s an awfully big question, Kit. I’m sure some are preparing long term and some are only looking at what tomorrow brings. No one can say. I can say this. I don’t know what will happen with the rest of the country, but here in Maltese…” Harland said. “It’ll be tough and hard work, but we’re gonna be okay. I believe that.”
A part of Kit did too. She didn’t worry about Maltese. She saw how they got it together to help others. It was the rest of the country she was worried about and she hadn’t scratched the surface of knowing the reality of what was beyond that small county in Colorado.
THIRTY-ONE – Hurtles
It was a Thursday, at least Regis believed it was Thursday when they left Schriever. They rested on the plane, even though the bench seats were uncomfortable. Regis truly believed some car or truck would be waiting there to take them to Spokane. A truck was there, he drove them as far as Ritzville, Washington, but he then had to go west on I-90 to deliver supplies.
Even though Mark’s son lived in a house with his mother off of I-90, they were still over fifty miles away.
On foot.
The flight was hard and the six hour drive in the front seat of the supply truck wasn’t easy. Both Regis and Mark were sick. Mark barely stayed awake and rested his head on Regis’ shoulder the whole drive.
Stan the driver was kind, asking if they needed to stop at all. Regis knew they had to push forward.
Arriving at Spokane was starting to become more of a dream that a destination. By the first evening they were in Ritzville so they stopped there for the night.
A hand painted sign read, ‘No Stragglers’ and a man in a pickup truck at the exit stood watch. He insisted he was following the rules for his town, but offered to let them sleep in the truck until day break.
That was the first night. The sun rose and set three more times and they were felt no closer to Spokane than they did when they stepped off the plane.
They ate crackers and water and soft foods because they were unable to chew, or keep anything down. Every part of Regis’ body hurt, his legs weakened after a hundred feet of walking, they spent more time stopping than they did walking.
They had the highway to themselves and it was for the most part barren. A few abandoned cars were scattered about and they took advantage when they found one.
What were they thinking? Regis wondered. They were so weak to begin with, did they actually think they’d make it all the way there?
Regis never said anything about quitting, neither did Mark. They’d move forward for as long as they could. Even if Regis wanted to quit, he wouldn’t. For Mark’s sake, they kept moving.
Each foot, each mile, they staggered. Legs wobbling, until they reached the point where they held on to each other, locked arms, just to keep standing.
Mark whimpered when he saw the ‘seventeen miles’ sign.
“I can’t. I can’t.” He stopped, dropping to his knees.
“Okay, we’ll stop, come on.” Regis helped him up. “We’ll rest over there.”
“We been walking for four days. We aren’t going to make it.”
“We’ll make it.”
“Rege, I’m so sick.”
“I know, me too.” Regis led him to the side where they rested against the metal barrier on the shoulder of the road. “Sit. We’ll take a break.”
Mark waved sluggishly. “I don’t think I can.”
“We’re close. We’re so close.” Regis said, reached in his bag and pulled out some water. “Come on. Take a drink.”
Mark shook his head.
Regis then sipped the water and swished it around his dry mouth. He could feel the sores in his mouth tighten each time he moved his jaw. After another drink, he forced the bottle to Mark’s mouth.
Finally, he sipped and coughed half of it out. Swiping his hand across his mouth, Mark closed his eyes and groaned. “I thought we’d get there. I did. I’m sorry I did this to you.”
“No, no. I want to be here.”
Mark dropped his hand to the road. “I just…”
“What?”
His fingers made a scraping sound and he lifted his hand. “What’s this?” He lifted his hand showing the gray substance on his finger tips. “Why is there ash?” He squinted his eyes then moved his leg back and forth. “There’s ash everywhere.”
Regis was getting ready to answer, then he heard it first, the sound of a motor, he looked left to right, then saw a truck coming down the highway.
It took everything Regis had to stand, but he did and waved out his arms.
An older woman drove the pickup truck, and she slowed down. The back of the truck was filled with wood.
The window wound down. “I haven’t seen anyone on this road in days. You headed to Four Lakes?” she asked.
“No,” Regis said. “Spokane. We need a ride.”
She stared at him for a moment and shook her head. “I can take you as far as Four Lakes.”
“That’s still ten miles out,” Regis said weakly. “Please, my brother needs to get to his son. We came all this way from Colorado.”
“I can’t take you to Spokane,” she said. “I really can’t.”
“Why?”
She hesitated then said. “Get in.”
Regis grabbed the door and lowered his head. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” After opening the door, he hurried to get Mark. Though still sick, he felt energized.
The last leg of the journey wasn’t going to be so hard after all. They would be there soon.
They made it.
It was a few days shy of two weeks since the bombs had fallen. Though traces of radiation still lingered in the air, Deana moved people from the basement to the floors of the hospital. Not many of the floors, just enough to clear the overflow.
She didn’t have a choice. There were so many sick and injured they covered the entire area outside. Along with respiratory ailments, cholera had spread.
How did she get to that point?
Macy looked horrible, she had dropped weight, battled minor radiation sickness and just didn’t look well. She started volunteering just so she could be near Terrence. His mother and Mylena rarely left his bedside.
Deana needed Macy’s help, but wanted her to leave. For her safety and health, as well as June and Mylena’s.
Terrence was the first person they moved to an upper floor.
During the week that he was there, they pumped him with antibiotics, gave him blood and did all that they could.
Terrence was knocking at Death’s door, but apparently death wasn’t ready to let him in. One doctor gave him a fifty-fifty percent chance of survival, and if Terrence maintained his course he was going to beat it.
He had a long road ahead of him. He’d be weak and ill for awhile, but he stood a chance of living. In fact, they believed he was going to survive.
“Take a break,” Deana told Macy. “Walk with me.”
Macy wiped the sweat from her brow and accepted the hand sanitizer offered by Deana. “Something wrong?”
“No, not at all. You need a break.”
“I like to keep going. Plus the stories are fascinating. There’s a man in there….” Macy spoke as she walked. “That saw D.C.… Said it’s rubble, but you can still make out the capitol dome and part of the Washington monument.”
This caused Deana to pause. “You said the dome and Hiroshima came to my mind.”
“Mine, too.” Macy stepped though the doors and outside. “Even this is bad.”
Deana looked around, she didn’t do that much. It was clear that even twelve miles from the bomb, the area was hit with a hard blast wave. Most windows were shattered, some buildings toppled from the damage. Everything was dusty and dirty.
They walked across the grounds, passing people who had set up camp.
“At least the fires stopped burning,” Deana said.
“This world will never be the same. What are we supposed to do?”
“Honestly.” Deana faced her. “I think that after things calm down, after a lot of the death has passed, we all should head west.”
“West? Why west?” Macy asked.
“Because I think most damage is on the coast and north of here. It’s a guess. My father once gave me a map that showed the best places to be it the event of an all out nuclear war.”
Macy laughed sarcastically. “Really, is there such a place?”
“Okay, well, areas least likely to be hit. I think we should head that way. I’m sure there are places that aren’t destroyed. In fact, that map is at my place and that is the reason I called you out here.”
“You want me to get the map?”
Deana shook her head. “No. I want you to take Mylena and June and leave the hospital. Go to my place. You’ll need to take my car, it’s in the garage. It might be tough to navigate until you leave the area, but I’m sure, if this area is still standing, my place is fine.”
“Someone could be in there.”
“Yeah, there may be and it might be looted. If it’s not, it’s the best place for you to be with the kids. Not here. Every day it gets worse. Every day you are here you stand a chance of catching something that isn’t curable right now under these circumstances.”
“Cholera?”
“Yes. It’s getting bad. So go. I have Terrence and I will keep an eye out for him. I’m sure Mr. Leonard has my housing plan locked down tight. He knows you so there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I don’t want to leave if Terrence could die.”
“I can’t say for sure he won’t, but I can say for sure, he wants you to put Mylena first. Get her out. Stay…” Deana blinked twice at the odd sound of loud motors. Rumbling motors of diesel engines. She hadn’t heard any ‘car’ sounds in days. She turned her head when she heard air brakes.
“Oh, wow.” Macy stepped forward pointing to the street. “Military trucks. Big, ones, too.”
Deana peered out to the eight vehicles pulling up and stopping by the hospital grounds. Large trucks with canvas covering. “It’s the military alright. Unfortunately…” she looked at Macy. “It’s not our military.”