“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.”
Her name was Catherine and she offered to take Regis and Mark to Spokane. Just before they arrived, just before they could see for themselves, she told them, “Spokane is gone.”
Mark’s head bounced with the movement of the truck, he was barely conscious and unaware of anything that was being said.
“How?” Regis asked. “We heard it was spared.”
“The bomb landed a few miles north of Spokane, most of it was just blasted away. It came in the middle of the night. There was no warning. Most people never knew it happened. I wanted to let you know. I can turn around.”
“No,” Regis said, holding his brother close. “We need to find his home.”
“It’s going to be hard. There are very few landmarks left.”
“Is the highway still good?”
“For the most part.”
“Then we’ll try. She lived on this end of the city, maybe their area was spared.”
Maybe their area was spared.
That was wishful thinking.
Catherine was wrong, there were some landmarks that survived. A part of a sign, skeleton remains of a brick building. The entire residential area was flattened, as if a tornado swept through or an earthquake. Cars were rolled on their sides and tossed about.
Catherine was able to make her way down the exit, the street was covered with debris.
“See that yellow sign?” Regis pointed to it. “That’s the muffler place. If you can get us close, Mark’s house was three down from there.”
Clearly there were no houses. There was nothing but that sign. But it was enough of a landmark to get Regis there.
“Just get us close.”
Catherine nodded and drove as close as she could, putting the truck in park. “I can wait. I’ll help you….”
“No, you can go, thank you so much.” Regis gently nudged Mark. “Hey, we’re here.”
Mark had slipped out of it, he was confused and he looked around. “We’re where?”
“Home.”
It registered, Regis saw it. Marks hands gripped to the dashboard. “It was supposed to be here.”
“I know.” Regis opened the door. “Let’s go, Little Brother.”
“Are you sure?” Catherine asked. “I can help you and I’ll wait.”
Regis helped Mark from the cab of the truck, secured his arm around him. “No, Catherine, thank you. This is the end of the line for us.”
“Good luck.”
Regis nodded and closed the truck door. He turned and began his walk. It wasn’t far, he could make out the outline of the muffler shop. Holding on to Mark, they staggered through the debris that ranged in size from matchsticks, to entire walls.
He didn’t hear Catherine leave for a while. He guessed she waited in case she was needed, or they changed their minds.
That wasn’t going to happen.
The small residential street had once consisted of wood frame houses. Now it was flattened, for the most part there was nothing recognizable.
The house wasn’t far from that muffler shop, in fact, Regis remembered parking there when Mark had a party and he drove all the way from Tacoma to attend. He hadn’t been at Mark’s before and almost walked up to the wrong house. He remembered the white column poles on the next door neighbor’s fence. One of those poles still stood, giving Regis his marker.
Mark’s house was blue, and when Regis saw a few broken slats of blue siding, he knew he arrived. “You’re home,” Regis said sadly.
Finally it seemed as if Mark snapped to reality, he slowly stood upright, stepping from his lean into Regis.
Like a newborn infant trying to cry, Mark made a weak, aching sound of pain as he walked forward away from Regis to the larger mound of debris.
“Mark,” Regis called out.
Mark kept walking, then he stopped, his arms extending, and with a long, agony filled cry, he dropped to his knees.
It was the last of his energy, the last of his soul screaming out, and Regis knew it.
“Markie!” Mark screamed, then the scream turned into a sob. “Markie.”
Frantically, his arms moved as he tried to dig through the rubble and Regis hurried to him.
“I have to find… find him.” Mark moved a board, then another, he tried to stand but fell back down. His hands bled from glass he grabbed.
“Stop.” Regis knelt next to him. “Stop. We don’t know. They could have gotten out.”
Mark shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’ll never know. He died not knowing how I felt. Thinking… thinking I left him.”