Born In The Apocalypse

by Joseph Talluto

  The lack of information bothered Joe the most. He liked knowing what was coming in a line of work that was notorious for not having the same thing happen twice regularly. Joe contemplated the possibilities for how his day would go on his drive down Interstate81. After that, the inevitable thirty-plus mile drive across three S-curve filled mountains waited for him. Why did he call in the two green rookies? Why was he calling in everybody? As Joe thought this over, his phone chimed in with a text message from another co-worker, Josh.

  ALL HELL BREAKING LOOSE IN GRUNDY, it said boldly.

  What the hell? Josh was not one to panic in times of conflict, either. Joe had run Josh’s first cardiac arrest with him after passing his National Registry Intermediate test and he and Josh had performed like a well-oiled machine without so much as a word between them. A good partner knew what to do and what to expect and knew how to read his partner’s thoughts as what to do next. Joe was at a loss as to what his longtime friend was thinking at this moment. The curiosity got the best of him, and he dialed Josh to find out exactly what the hell was going on, seeing as how there had not been that kind of message from his friend since, well, ever. The phone rang one time and Josh picked up immediately, as Larry had not ten minutes earlier. The conversation that followed was hard to hear and even harder to comprehend as Joe started up the first mountain. From what he could understand, there was an explosion underground at one of the mines in Buchanan County that had released some sort of toxic gas underground. As if that was not bad enough, there had been almost simultaneous explosions at over two dozen mines in the county and reports of similar incidents in McDowell County, West Virginia and Pike County, Kentucky. The symptoms of the affected miners sounded like a combination of anaphylactic shock and febrile seizures. The injured miners acted as if they had allergic reactions as well as spiking a ravenous fever of around 105 degrees. Their airway would nearly close off as they lost brain cells from the brain nearly cooking in their skulls.

  Josh had said that there were already at least a hundred patients at Grundy’s hospital alone and more were expected, as there was just not enough help to go around. Grundy was a small town in the far end of Southwestern Virginia and right smack in the heart of coal country. Coal was what kept the town going even in the age of the “carbon footprint”. Miners would risk their lives every day to bring the soft, black gold out of Mother Earth and they were happy to do it, even if it meant that they might not get to see the light of day again should the unthinkable happen. Today, however, it seemed that Mother Earth was fighting back, releasing her own brand of defense to the intrusion of man into her depths. Being a spot on the map on the edge of nowhere also meant that there was not much to go around in the event of a catastrophe. Josh also mentioned that it seemed that death was inevitable for those that were poisoned, as nothing was working at the hospitals. No drug that was available was working right at the moment and it seemed that the doctors were grasping at straws as what to try next.

  As Joe listened, he could not help but think that there was something else to the disaster. There was more to it than just some miners hitting a methane pocket a couple thousand feet down. The sheer scale and number of patients and was happening was all too coincidental for something that simple. It was, after all, three counties and three different states involved in all this. He dismissed the theory that it was just bad luck. He tried to come up with some sort of rational explanation as to what was going on when he lost connection with Josh. Cell service at the bottom of the first mountain was spotty at best.

  “Shit!” Joe exclaimed as he lost connection. He would not get service back until near the top of the second mountain, nearly fifteen minutes away at best. He thought to himself, hope for the best, and plan for the worst. That was his mantra throughout most of his life. Joe prided himself on being prepared in most everything from weekend cookouts to “Weekend Warrior” training at his Army Reserve unit. In his eleven years as a reservist, he had been in a number of areas around the world that if you were not prepared, you would end up dead, or worse. Captured with no way out and no way to help one’s self was not the way to go out.

  Joe began to run through in his head of what he had with him in his car that could be of use in a mass-casualty incident. He had his W.A.L.K. (Warrior Aid and Litter Kit) bag with him as well as his Combat Medic kit that his brother-in-law has snagged for him “off the books” from Ft. Hood. He doubted the W.A.L.K. kit would do much good in this situation because they would already have plenty of backboards and litters available, though it was nice to have in the event of an unmanageable situation.

  As Joe drove towards Tazewell, he began to think about his wife, Buffey and his nine-year-old son, Rickey. He had left early in the morning, much earlier than he had planned, without so much as a “see you later” and had headed out the door. He thought of how alone they would be without him there, and it bothered him greatly. Joe and Buffey had been inseparable friends since the day they had met, and they were still that way, nearly ten years later. They had met through a mutual friend at the rescue squad that they were both on and had immediately hit it off. Buffey was eight years older than he was, but she shared the same love of everyday life that he did, and it showed in the fact that Joe had convinced her to try video games. She beat him at Battlefield on a regular basis from that day forth. It tickled him to no end that his girl could kick any dude’s ass at any first-person shooter. Joe decided he would call her in a few hours after all the commotion had died down, and to tell some good “war stories” from the inevitable headline-grabbing incident that was currently going on in Grundy.

  As Joe neared the top of the second hill climb towards Tazewell, he regained service on his cell phone and was immediately greeted by three different text messages from as many different people. The first message was from Larry wanting to know what was taking him so long. He would let that one go for the time being, just give Larry a good smack upside the back of his head later, and tell him to chill out; he was going as fast as he could. The second message was from another coworker, Missy, who was Star’s only female employee at the Tazewell station. She was very smart and one of Joe’s favorite partners to work with. Missy had aspirations of taking a career in law enforcement, and definitely had the demeanor for it. She had the patience of a saint. She warned Joe that he was going to be partnered up with David, one of the rookies that had recently started working at Star Ambulance as well as a recent graduate from EMT class.

  Great, Joe thought. I’m going to be stuck with the buzzard-looking moron that might as well been the door gunner on the space shuttle.

  David was notorious in his short stint with Star Ambulance for telling of all the supposed lives that he had saved in his short time as an EMT and as a combat medic in the Army. Joe and his colleagues had called him out on most of his lies, yet he persisted on what a badass he was. Never mind the fact that he looked like a cartoon buzzard from some 1960‘s Looney Tunes episode. Tall, lanky, and goofy looking were not appealing characteristics, as well as the fact that he was a compulsive liar. In addition, he was stuck with Star’s other resident window-licker, James. Short, fat, and dumb was no way to go through life but that did not seem to stop him from getting a job alongside Joe and his well-trained coworkers. James was blessed (or cursed) with the personality of a wet dishcloth and did not care to lie to anyone to get his way. Joe did not like having him around at all. To him, James seemed like he could be dangerous, given the right circumstances.

  The third message was a voicemail from Josh who informed Joe that the miners that had not died in the initial explosions were being taken by ground and by air to a number of hospitals. A dozen or more helicopters were coming into Grundy Municipal Airport to transport them by air to trauma centers in Charleston, Winston-Salem, Roanoke, Bristol, Kingsport, Johnson City, and Pikeville. The rest of the injured were being taken to local hospitals in Grundy, Richlands, and Joe’s local hospital in Tazewell. Bluefield, Lebanon, and Wytheville hospitals were antici
pating arrivals as well. Josh went on to say nearly every emergency room within seventy five miles was receiving injured miners. The affected group of people were numbering around two hundred fifty, with no official word as to what caused the event or what was being done. Chaos and disorder were ruling the day. Josh had a pang of fear in his voice that Joe had not noticed before. Something did not seem right.

  Now well past the last climb of his journey to work, Joe had plenty to digest as well as a gargantuan feeling in his gut that was telling him something was amiss. Larry and Josh were both freaking out. His wife was still none the wiser that far away from home, the world was coming apart at the seams. The incident looked like a full twenty-four to forty-eight hour shift ahead. He would not be getting home anytime soon. The influx of family members and outside help was going to wreak havoc on the small mountain area. The scope of the accident assured him that he was going to have to sleep at work until the situation calmed down. At least he had two MRE’s (Meals Ready to Eat) in the trunk from his last field training exercise. He also had a case of water that he sipped on when there was too much month at the end of the money and could not afford the fast-food luxury.

  * * *

  As he neared town, Joe began to notice the traffic on the normally quiet Route 16 was picking up, as well as seeing what was going to be the first of many medivac helicopters. The choppers were flying off to the south, likely headed towards hospitals in Tennessee and North Carolina. He headed toward the main four-lane highway and immediately wished that he had stayed on back roads instead. He had never seen a traffic jam of this kind of proportion in a county that had less than thirty thousand residents. Vehicles lined the east and west bound lanes to the point that it was impossible to get on the highway, let alone get anywhere fast. Joe reached down and flipped the dash lights on in his car, installed back in the day before he was paid to do what he did. The red and white LEDs quickly lit up, but to no avail to the passing motorists. Cars were moving at a snail’s pace and a few drivers rolled their windows down to ask how their loved ones were doing or where they were being taken after seeing that a person of authority was trying to get through.

  “How the hell should I know?” Joe mumbled under his breath as he turned down the emergency lane to get moving toward the station. He made a point not to make eye contact for the next few miles until he reached his destination, which looked like a free all-you-can-eat buffet at a fat kid’s birthday party. People were already lined up outside the station wanting to know what passing travelers had just asked of him not five minutes earlier. Joe got out of his car and a young woman immediately hounded him. She looked to be around twenty years old, and was asking about the whereabouts of her boyfriend.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, I just got here I don’t have any more information than you do,” Joe said as calmly and sincerely as he could muster. Joe looked around at the irritated people standing in the doorway of the station and drew his gaze back at the woman.

  “How is it that this many people know about all of this already, anyway?” he asked.

  “It was all over Facebook right after it happened. Everybody is posting about it!” The woman said, a little too gleefully.

  “Oh, I see,” Joe said, trying to act as if he gave two shits about Facebook. Damn social networking is going to be the end of us, he thought.

  “Hey Joe!” A voice rang out from behind the doorway; it was Jamie, Star Ambulance’s resident gun nut. Jamie had a collection of weapons that would make the National Guard Armory look like the sporting goods section at Wal-Mart. He was a great guy. Jamie was in his early forties but had the sophomoric sense of humor of a sixteen-year-old kid. He looked worried, very much contrary to his normally calm demeanor.

  “Be right there, man!” Joe responded and slunk away from the woman who was now using her cellphone. Probably posting more useless bullshit on Facebook, Joe thought.

  Joe opened the trunk and got his personal three-day assault pack out of the back of the car. He stuffed his two MRE’s and a couple bottles of water as well as his CamelBak. The water bladder was still relatively full from last weekend’s hike that he had taken. His tactical tomahawk and bowie knife were both still in the bag as well, also from his outdoor excursion. Probably not going to get any chance to get this stuff later, he thought, and closed the lid. He made his way through the crowd of people into the station. Jamie caught up with him in stride.

  “I don’t like the look of this,” said Jamie nervously.

  “Me either, dude, it sounds like this is the real deal from what I’ve heard from Josh down in Grundy,” Joe replied.

  “How bad are we talkin’ here?”

  “Somewhere in the neighborhood of 250 miners, not including collateral damage from all the people trying to get around to the different hospitals. Hell of a mess.”

  “Jesus Christ, man.” Jamie grabbed his belt and noticeably shifted something underneath his shirt.

  “You packin’ for this?” Joe asked sheepishly, knowing Jamie probably had at least one gun on him right now.

  “Damn right I am! You don’t think I just keep ‘em around ‘cause the look pretty in the case do ya?” Jamie said with a shit-eating grin.

  “Good,” Joe said, relieved that Jamie had his back if the shit hit the fan, and essentially, it had.

  Joe did not have time to further his conversation with Jamie as they walked into the station’s living room where most of his coworkers stood and waited. There was Donnie, a tall, dark haired father of two whom, like Joe, had served his time in the military and had got out when the getting was good. Then there was Andrew, a young, skinny EMT from Marion, near where Joe lived; Kody, an English major who was also one hell of a Paramedic, Kody did the job to pay his way through school. And, last but not least, there was Aaron a.k.a “Cornbread,” a big guy with a bigger smile and, like Joe, shared a love of video games. Of course, the two rookies, David and James were there as well. They were all too busy having conversations with one another to notice that Joe had come in, so Joe headed towards Larry’s office instead. Larry was on the phone with his wife, as it appeared, and was consoling her and telling her to get the kids ready to go if need be. Joe waited until he had finished his conversation and gave Larry a puzzled look.

  “What’s up with that?” Joe asked nodding to Larry’s phone.

  “Paige is just worried about the kids being exposed to something,” replied Larry.

  “Should she be?” Joe asked.

  “I’m not sure at this point. There’s some people coming in from the CDC and some people from the US Geological Survey to try and find out exactly what happened.”

  “Why do we need the CDC? It’s not contagious, is it?”

  Larry paused and opened his mouth as he was going to say something then shook his head in a You wouldn’t believe me if I told you kind of look and smiled nervously. Larry motioned Joe to follow him into the living room. “All ya’ll need to hear this,” he said. Larry and Joe made their way into the living room. Joe had a seat near the door and waited to hear what his boss had to say.

  “Can I have everyone‘s attention?” Larry said. “We have a ton of work ahead of us, so I’m gonna make this as short as I can. There is some unsettling news to go with all of this. We have had reports of some people being attacked and hurt pretty bad. Some of these miners that they are bringin’ in – miners that you guys will be taking care of, transporting, assisting flight crews, and assisting the hospital with – have hurt people. We don’t yet know what is wrong with these fellas. You will need to take all body substance isolation protocols very seriously. There are some rumors goin’ around that people have been bitten and seem to contract the same illness and symptoms that the miners have. Whatever this is, it seems to be contagious. That is no big deal compared to the fact that, according to rumor, these miners were already dead when they took a bite out.”

  “Wait, you mean like zombies?” asked Joe.

  “Dude that’s fuckin’ stupid,” chortled Ja
mes.

  “Shut the hell up," Joe fired back, glaring at James. “Have you ever watched a zombie movie before? Shit like this is how it all starts; some kind of unexplained accident happens and then people start fuckin’ eatin’ each other.”

  “Are we seriously having this conversation?” Larry interjected, obviously not interested in the subject. “The truth of the matter is that Tazewell Hospital is overrun with a hell of a lot more patients and problems than personnel and solutions. We are going up there to help in any way that we can. If they need doughnuts, go get ‘em, if they need you to do things out of your certification level, do ‘em, if they need you to transport...”

  “Lemme guess, do ‘em!” James said, laughing.

  “Unless you want a new job that involves touching other people’s shit with your hands, I suggest you do what the fuck they tell you,” barked Larry at James with an emphatic finger aimed at him to drive the point home. James mumbled under his breath and sat down on the couch, rocking back and forth. All of the workers of Star Ambulance looked over to the couch at James. He was not being the pillar of reliability that they needed right now.

  “Crew assignments are as follows,” said Larry, getting back to more pressing issues. “We will be running three-person crews since we only have three trucks available. There will be one ALS person and two BLS people per truck “I will be with Missy and Andrew in Unit 41. Joe will be with David and James in Unit 49, and Cornbread and Donnie will be with Jamie in Unit 33.”

  “What about me?” Kody said with a frown. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  “I need you to hold down the fort here at the office. Our dispatch is going to be useless for this, so all calls are going to come through the station here to avoid confusion as much as possible,” said Larry.