by P D Platt
Daveek looked through the back glass of the car, watching as Solomon approached, carrying the weight of death in his arms once again. Covering his face, Daveek began to sob.
“I’m so sorry, Daveek,” Skye said as she gently patted his back. “Benny tried to save her.”
Skye moved to the rear of the car and opened the trunk for Solomon. Placing the boy gently inside, he whispered, “You were a courageous young man. Thank you for trying to help her.”
Solomon looked upward into the darkening sky and closed the trunk as rain began to pelt the ground.
___
After returning home, Skye managed to pry some detail from the rescued girl. It was as the adults suspected: Benny had fallen to his death trying to save his little sister. Solomon was glad they’d brought the boy’s body with them; a burial would help give Mia some closure. It also shook him even more, etching the image of Benny’s horrific expression permanently into his memory.
Mia told them how he’d broken the window and tried to climb down using the sheets, but the knots had come loose and he’d fallen. She’d called down to him, but he hadn’t answered and hadn’t moved.
After losing both of her parents, Mia had now lost her only sibling. Life could be exceedingly cruel.
Mia struggled with the retelling of her ordeal, wringing and intertwining her fingers as if the fidgeting were somehow a coping mechanism to aid concentration. “The mean man saw us playing in the yard. He asked Benny if our parents were around. Benny told him they were dead. Then he asked if we had other family.”
Skye took hold of Mia’s anxious hands. “It’s okay, sweetie. Take your time.”
“Benny told him about Uncle Kal…He lives at the beach. We go there every summer.”
Skye helped Mia finish the story. “But the mean man lied, didn’t he? He told you he’d drive you to your Uncle Kal’s house, but he didn’t.” As Mia nodded, Skye wrapped her in another hug. “We can take you to your Uncle Kal, okay? You can trust us. We promise we’ll never let anything else bad happen to you, alright?”
___
While Mia rested, Solomon returned to the Freemont house to dig three graves for her family. Although the earlier heavy rain had helped to soften the soil, it remained physically demanding work. However, it was the only act that could ease his troubled mind; his physical weariness paled in comparison to all the senseless loss they’d experienced. He wanted to do something tangible for the poor little girl who’d endured so much.
That evening, once Mia had finally eaten, the group returned to the Freemonts’ home. Solomon had already buried the bodies and marked each grave with the family member’s name, written in black marker on small wooden crosses he’d fashioned out of scrap wood. Emily and Daveek sprinkled the grave tops with flowers from nearby yards. By causing them to focus on everyone they’d lost, the ceremony became a therapeutic experience for them all.
Their tears soaked into the freshly dug soil, becoming part of the earth once again.
Chapter 16—Outreach
Wednesday, March 11
Skye and Solomon both knew the minuscule likelihood of Mia’s uncle still being alive. If he were, wouldn’t he have traveled to check on his family by now? However, they decided to make every effort to locate him, starting with attempting to find an address for him at Mia’s house. Although she tried, she couldn’t remember anything definitive about where he lived. All she could remember was that he lived near the beach and how much fun she’d had there with her family.
They had another mission as well: to check on Daveek’s other friend—Lorenzo. In the chaos following Emily’s abduction, they’d never made it to his house. They decided to check the Richlands’ residence first, planning to take everyone with them, so they could keep them safe in the car as before. One adult would stay with the kids at all times while the other investigated inside.
That was the plan.
Once everyone was loaded and ready, Solomon made his way toward the car, but, as a sudden hot wave of lightheadedness overwhelmed him, he collapsed before making it to the car door.
He awoke to find himself stretched out on his sofa, a damp washcloth covering his forehead from temple to temple. The hot swarm that had dizzied him had vanished, replaced by a comfortable chill.
“Welcome back,” Skye said as she removed the washcloth from his face. Solomon made a feeble attempt to sit upright.
“Whoa. Hold on there.” Skye pressed down on his shoulders. “You need to stay still. I don’t feel like picking you up again. You’re a lot heavier than you look.”
Gritting her teeth, Skye rolled up his pant leg. “Your wound’s festered.” She wiped his painful leg with a damp towel. “When did you last dress it?”
Solomon had to admit he couldn’t remember. With his attention focused on more immediate and critical issues, he’d ignored the dog bite after his second bandage application. All he knew was that his leg throbbed, the pain radiating from his ankle and encircling his lower leg all the way up past his knee. The intense agony now commanded his full attention.
“You need antibiotics. There’s no other way around it,” Skye stated bluntly. “And I have an idea where we might get some without a lot of fuss—”
“Where?” Now he’d become consciously aware of it, Solomon’s pain had intensified. He was ready for drugs. No doubt the signals had been there all along, but the mind focuses on what it needs for immediate survival. Now that things had settled somewhat, his body forced him to pay attention, as mind and body worked in remarkable unison.
“Okay, hear me out,” Skye said. “The Skylark Assisted Living Center.”
“A nursing home?” Her suggestion confused him.
Skye remained excited with her idea. “Well, assisted living, but close enough. It’s only a few miles away, and they’d keep a stock of commonplace medicines—”
“—and it probably hasn’t been looted because no one else is likely to think of it. Smart.” Solomon sat up slowly. “So…how do you know about this place exactly?”
“I had a grandmother that lived there for a few years…until her passing,” Skye said. “No. Lie back down.” She propped a pillow under his leg. “The kids can stay here with you. This will have to be a solo mission for me.”
“Fine. But promise me you’ll go check on the Richland kid first,” Solomon pleaded.
Skye nodded. “Sure.”
Although he disliked the idea of her going alone, Solomon knew her decision was logical. In his current state, he’d only be a hindrance. It made sense for him to keep the kids here in the safety of the house.
“Skye?” Solomon said as he took her hand. “Thank you.”
After giving his hand a quick squeeze, she departed.
___
Keeping her promise, Skye headed straight to the Richlands’ residence, following the directions on the children’s carefully drawn map, which showed two oversized palm trees marking the yard. Skye took her own car, preferring to drive something with a bit more power. Apart from its banged-up trunk and non-working taillights, the car was mechanically sound. Its throaty revs soothed and reassured her.
Fast cars had interested her ever since she was a little girl, when she’d chosen to play with Hot Wheels cars instead of dolls and other traditional ‘girl’ toys. However, Skye disliked the ‘tomboy’ label, a term she considered demeaning and offensive.
Her father had allowed her to be herself, which in turn, had distanced her from her traditionalist mother. She’d loved her father for allowing her to be an individual, and it saddened her that her mother had not.
As promised by the children’s colorful map, two large palms bordered the corners of the single-story ranch. When exiting the safety of the car, the dull metal barrels of her shotgun poked out first; she’d been on edge since their run-in with the kidnapper. No one, no matter how innocent or law-abiding they might once have been, could be trusted. Not anymore.
A colorful egg-themed flag flapped on the porch column, c
elebrating the season it would now signify in perpetuity. Skipping steps, she hurried herself along. Her repeated knocks on the bright red door went unanswered; not a peep of sound came from within. Discovering the door was locked, Skye cupped her hands to the narrow side glass and peered inside—picture frames and knickknacks lay about in disarray. Either someone had already ransacked the place, or the occupants were just plain messy.
After shattering the door’s sidelight with the stock of her shotgun, Skye reached inside to unlock it. Pausing for a moment, she sniffed the air drifting through the busted opening; her nose detected an unpleasant odor, but not one of death. It was more of uncleanliness—the smell of old garbage perhaps.
The absence of the familiar stench of death presented a couple of possibilities. Either no one had died here, but someone might still be around, lying in wait for an unsuspecting victim to enter their trap. Or the place might simply be abandoned.
Her mind raced with wild possibilities, and if it hadn’t been for the urgency of obtaining treatment for Solomon, she might have proceeded with more caution. But, based on the chaotic state of the house, she hastily decided to make a quick sweep of the place, just to make sure Lorenzo hadn’t been left alone and scared.
Inside the house, drawers had been emptied, closets held only empty hangers, and clothing lay strewn across the floor. The pantry had been stripped bare. These people had packed and left in a hurry. Perhaps they had family elsewhere they needed to check on, or maybe they’d simply left in a frenzied panic.
A photograph hanging in the hallway caught her attention: a smiling woman and a boy, both in gaudy festive sweaters. The boy looked to be no more than five or six in the photograph. A few other snapshots lay scattered on shelves and bookcases, left behind in the haste of packing. All displayed the same woman and boy at various ages. Lorenzo must be the only child of a single mother.
Lorenzo’s room had been cleared out as well, suggesting they’d both survived. Skye hoped that was the case and they were somewhere safe. She smiled down at the little snapshots again, grateful that neither had been left without the other. It seemed to be the first and only happy ending for the families in this neighborhood.
She left the house, content in the knowledge that no one had died here or been left alone to suffer. She knew the others would be relieved to hear some good news for a change. On her way out of Halcyon Place, Skye stopped in at Solomon’s house to let everyone know what she suspected had happened. “It looks like they packed and left in a hurry. I’m sure Lorenzo and his mom are fine.”
Her news was well received and seemed to lift the children’s flagging spirits. Death and loss had left everyone exhausted. Skye knew Solomon was worsening when he could only manage a feeble smile in acknowledgement of her findings.
She told the children to take care of him while she went for help. “Make sure he drinks lots of water.”
Emily made her chuckle when she gave a crooked salute with her tiny hand. “Yes, ma’am.”
___
Skye berated herself for not thinking of the poor souls at the nursing home sooner, especially as she had firsthand knowledge of the place. But she’d had more personal and immediate concerns—like dealing with the death of her father and rescuing helpless children.
As she approached the turnoff to the nursing home, her mind wandered to memories of her countless Sunday visits; she’d usually come at least twice a month to see her grandmother. Her dad’s mom, she’d been the only surviving grandparent that Skye had formed a relationship with. After her grandmother’s mind started to fail, the place had become depressing, clouded with unpleasant memories toward the end. She’d never imagined she’d return.
This nostalgia for her grandmother stirred memories of her mother. But, unready and unwilling to deal with that at the moment, she quickly pushed these away. That was for another time and another place. Although she couldn’t help but wonder if her mom was okay. Wherever she was.
She walked across the empty parking lot, choking on the heavily smoke-infused air. Today’s gusty winds were undoubtedly fanning new, unchecked fires in several directions. Recent rainfall hadn’t been enough to quell spring’s initial dry spell, which, no doubt, would have exacerbated the intensity of any flames.
Plastic bags and leaves piled high against the sliding glass doors of the care facility’s entrance. Pressing her palms on the thick glass, she tried to push them sideways, but they wouldn’t budge. Skye peered inside at the small waiting area—it was just as she remembered, minus a receptionist. The only light filtered in through the front windows, projecting an eerie shadowbox impression onto the walls within.
A metal park bench sat nearby, positioned under the shelter of the wide, canopied entrance. Skye slid the bench toward the right-hand door, lining it up with the middle of its framed glass. Leaning into it like a bobsledder, she picked up her pace, gaining momentum as her heeled boots dug into the brick walkway.
A reflection ahead made her look up, causing her to stumble forward against the bench as it slowed.
The doors slid open.
A silver-haired woman stood in the narrow gap between the open doors. Tucking her hands into the big pockets of her burgundy nurse’s smock, she asked, “May I help you?”
The woman’s calmness astounded Skye, who’d fully expected to be yelled at for trying to break in. Instead, the woman stood relaxed and still, her entire face radiating a warmth, centering around her welcoming eyes and natural, unprompted smile.
Skye wiped invisible perspiration from her forehead as she smiled sheepishly at the woman through the opening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was anyone here.”
Opening the door wider, the woman motioned Skye inside. “Do you need help with something?”
“Yes, but not me. My…friend has an infection from a dog bite. I was just looking for antibiotics for him.”
“I’m sure we’ll have something here to help your friend. What are his symptoms? How much has it spread?”
“High fever. Lightheadedness and fainting. Almost his entire lower leg is discolored and swollen.”
“Sounds like your friend needs an IV and plenty of rest and fluids. But you’ll need to get him here. Oh, I’m Karen by the way.”
Skye took her offered hand and gratefully squeezed it. “Skye.” The woman seemed equally as fascinated and relieved by the existence of another friendly face.
“How many people are here with you?” Skye asked, looking up and down the hallway, checking for a bustle of activity.
“Initially, seven of the forty-eight residents survived,” Karen explained. “But I lost two more within a few days. I couldn’t keep up with everyone. And when the emergency generator ran out of fuel, it made things even more difficult. I’ve used the last of our oxygen supplies, and Ms. Brenna needed her weekly dialysis treatment—of course no one’s alive to transport her, much less operate the clinics.”
“So, no one came back to help you? I mean…you’re the only one that…?”
“Cared? Perhaps. Or maybe everyone else died or had too much to deal with themselves. I didn’t have anyone anyway, so this has been good for me…you know, to have something to focus on and keep me busy. Stops me thinking about the empty world out there,” Karen explained as Skye followed her down the hallway.
“How have you managed?” Skye asked.
“I moved the deceased to the west wing and sealed the doors to keep the other wings livable. That way we still have access to the kitchen and dry storage…the infirmary and the day room. It’s worked out well so far,” Karen explained before busying herself with changing the bedding in one of the rooms.
“You’re truly remarkable—for what you’ve done here.”
Folding her arms, Karen leaned against the wall and studied the ceiling, finally pausing in her work. She took a deep breath, and Skye figured it must be the first break this lady had taken in several days. At that moment, Skye regarded Karen with awe. She was an angel in a world devoid
of light; her selflessness outshone a thousand dark souls. This remarkable woman had stayed to comfort those who remained, helpless and alone.
“Our biggest concern at the moment’s water,” Karen admitted, jumping right back into a quickstepped march down the hall to the next room. “Luckily, we had a water delivery two days before everything went to hell. We have six of those jugs left, maybe thirty gallons’ worth, which should last another week or so. But with no running water, we’re going to run out of usable toilets before long. Since we can’t flush them, we’ve been rotating through the available bathrooms and closing them down afterward. There’s only six of us left, so it’s not too bad yet. We have dozens of bathrooms.”
Skye chatted with Karen, filling her in on the ordeals they’d endured thus far and what little she knew of the outside world. When she mentioned the three children, Karen’s expression transformed, lighting up with a smile that bloomed across the delicate lines of her face. “I adore children,” Karen said, her eyes beaming with delight.
Karen pressed Skye for more details of Solomon’s leg, seeming concerned he’d been left alone with the children in his debilitated state. When Skye described Solomon’s infection in detail, Karen’s smile faded, and her expression returned to an attentive stare.
“Please, bring your friend here straight away. From what you’ve said of his symptoms, the only proper way to treat him is with an immediate IV antibiotic infusion. Besides, I believe the company would do us all good,” Karen said. “The children won’t pose a problem here. As you can see, it’s a safe facility.”
After thanking her profusely, Skye left, promising to return within the hour.
Chapter 17—Recovery
The needle didn’t hurt a bit, proving that either she was incredibly proficient, or he was too out of it to notice. The bed alone was a huge relief, greatly reducing the pressure of his burning leg. That magic liquid dripping into his veins also provided powerful reassurance as it supported his body in its fight against an invisible invasion. Moreover, a burden had been lifted, knowing Emily wouldn’t have to face this terrible new world without him.