by S. M. Shade
Lane continues to struggle as I hand him out to Julie and scramble through the window. Troy’s terrified face peeks over the edge of the roof. “Get Julie down, and I’ll lower Lane to you! The sheet isn’t long enough to reach the ground!” He nods and helps Julie onto the ladder, shouting when he’s ready for Lane.
He isn’t heavy, but I’m so weak from the smoke and the burns my arms tremble as I lower him down, and it seems an eternity before Troy shouts for me to drop the sheet. The roof begins to crumble beneath my feet, but I have to wait until Troy lowers him safely to Abby. I don’t want to upset the ladder and take us all down. Just as Abby seizes her son, a small portion of the roof gives way, sending a white hot jet of air up my arm, scorching my skin.
I’m afraid to look, afraid I’ll see the flesh dripping from the bone. Somehow my feet find the ladder, my body trembling violently with the effort to climb down. Almost there. Fuck, I just want to lie in the snow, put out the fire burning its way up my leg and arm. Almost there.
* * * *
I’m burning. Oh fuck, the pain is enormous. I thought I made it out of the fire. I was on the roof. Lane! I have to get Lane!
“The baby!” I cry, jerking upright.
“He’s fine, Angel. Everyone’s fine,” Troy croons, his hand in mine. “Lie back.” He can’t fool me. If no one was hurt his face wouldn’t be so lined with worry. Tears stand in his eyes. For me, I realize. He’s crying for me.
“How bad is it?” I croak.
“You have second degree burns on your right thigh and your upper arm,” Julie explains. “You’ll be okay, dear.”
“It hurts…so bad,” I gasp, tears running down my temples onto the pillow.
“I know. I’m going to give you a shot of Demerol to help with the pain, but I have to clean the burns. It’s going to hurt like hell, I’m sorry. Turn on your side so I can give you a shot.” I realize I’m lying on my bed in only my underwear, but I’m in too much pain to be embarrassed. The cold towel Julie has placed over my thigh slips off as I roll onto my side, and excruciating heat surges through the burned skin.
“Hold on,” Troy whispers when my fingers dig into his biceps. I feel a pinch from the needle before my mind begins to fog. The drug doesn’t exactly stop the pain, but it makes me less aware of it. I don’t care as much.
“Thank you,” I murmur. Drugs or not, the next few minutes are an agonizing blur while Julie cleans and treats the burns. Troy lies beside me with his forehead pressed to mine, gripping my hands tightly.
“Almost done, babe. You’re doing so well.”
“I’m finished, Joseph. I’m not going to bandage the burned areas just yet. I want to keep an eye on them.” Julie turns to Troy. “Don’t let him touch them. Keep the arm and leg elevated on the pillows, and let me know if the blisters begin to burst.”
Troy nods. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Then stop crying.” My grin is half hearted, but it’s the best I can do under the circumstances.
Deep brown eyes full of sympathy stare into mine. “I’m sorry. I can’t stand to see you hurting like this.” His soft lips graze my forehead gently before he curls up against my side.
“The shot helped. I just need about three more.”
“I’ll give you another dose in a few hours. You should try to sleep,” Julie advises.
“Walker?” I ask.
“Slept through it all. I’ll talk to him in the morning,” Troy assures me.
“I’m sorry about your house,” I mumble to Julie, fighting to keep my eyes open.
“It was just a house. You saved us, Joseph. Lane and I would never have made it out without you.” Julies voice cracks. “Now be quiet and get some sleep,” she orders, leaving before I can respond.
Troy lies beside me, caressing my chest. “You were so brave, running into that house. I couldn’t have done that.”
“It wasn’t brave. I didn’t have time to think. It was a knee jerk reaction.”
“It was also incredibly stupid. You could’ve died. You’re lucky you’re hurt or I’d be kicking your ass all over this room. You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t let Abby lose Lane too.”
He regards me closely. “You don’t expect Airen to return, do you?”
I can’t deal with that devastating thought at the moment. It’s too much. “I need to sleep, honey.”
He kisses my cheek. “I’ll be right here.” I slip into a peaceful sleep, comforted by his words.
Julie keeps me doped up through the worst of the pain. I’m wandering around in a haze, flirting with the edge of consciousness, not really awake or asleep. Abby and Troy’s voices float to me in the twilight.
“He’s healing. It looks worse than it is.”
“He saved my baby. You both did, Troy. I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Joseph’s the hero here.”
“Tell him I was here?”
“Of course I will. I’ll radio you when he’s awake.”
“Or if you need anything, Troy. I mean it.”
“I promise. Tell Walker not to worry.”
Finally, I can pry my eyes open for more than a few moments. Troy’s warm smile greets me. “Welcome back, babe.”
“How long was I out?”
“You’ve been in and out for the last two days. How do you feel?”
“I’m starving.”
He laughs. “I’ll bet. Julie wants you up and around today.” My arm is wrapped in a bandage and I can feel the weight of another wrapped around my thigh.
“How bad does it look?”
“It’s nothing that would cost you your contract with GQ.” He grins and kisses me. Smart ass. I snort and sit up, wincing at the pain that radiates through the damaged areas. “It’ll be two or three weeks before the burns heal completely,” he warns.
He helps me clean up and slip on a pair of oversized sweats and a T-shirt before escorting me to the living room. After a bowl of soup and a few crackers, I feel stronger.
“Do you feel up to having visitors? I’ve practically had to barricade the door to keep Abby from camping beside our bed. You should radio her and let her know you’re okay.” His hand is soft when I catch it in mine and pull him to sit beside me.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” I kiss him on his cheek before pressing my lips to his firmly.
“You’re welcome. Now don’t get me all worked up when I can’t do anything about it,” he quips.
“I’m sure you can think of a remedy later.”
“You expect dinner and a show? I knew you were greedy.” He kisses me again, handing me a radio. “Call Abby and Walker. Let them see you’re okay.”
Airen
Eric closes the door before all of our heat can escape. “It looks like a blizzard. I can’t even see across the street.” He runs his hands through his hair and plops onto the couch. “We’re screwed.”
“We need to find another house, one with a fireplace. We’re nearly out of fuel,” I warn.
After a few minutes of staring out of the plate glass window that faces the street, he speaks up reluctantly. “I have an idea. When we were driving in I noticed a sign for a Superstore distribution center. It’s just across the street, set back behind the row of fast food joints. We’d be able to see it if the snow would lighten up. Anyway, there should be fuel and food there.”
“We’d have to walk.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re barely off the crutches. You wait here, and I’ll go.”
“No, I’m going,” he insists stubbornly. “We should eat something warm first and take our packs with us in case we can’t make it back.”
“Let’s do it.” I try to shake the image of Abby pacing the floor, waiting on us to return. Today is the second of December, and we should have been home days ago, but I don’t have the time to dwell on it or feel guilty. We have to keep ourselves warm and fed. I’m comforted by the thought that they aren’t struggling wit
h the same issues. I know they have heat and food enough to last two winters.
An hour later, we venture into the storm. The wind is brutal, slicing through my layered clothes as if they’re made of paper. Even when the snow lets up for a few minutes, the wind whips it up from the drifts and swirls it around our heads, hindering the visibility.
“See that red sign?” Eric shouts over the constant roar in our ears. “Aim for that.”
I nod. It turns out to be a small deli. Most of the windows are broken, but the walls at least provide protection from the icy wind. We duck inside to get our bearings.
“How’s your leg?”
“Why? You want to give me a piggy back ride?”
“I’m barely keeping myself upright,” I snort.
“I’m okay. You see the gray building with the dark roof? That’s it.” It’s not as far as I feared it would be. “Ready?” he asks.
“They better have whiskey.”
Our first problem when we reach the warehouse is finding a way in. It appears to be locked up tight, the dock doors won’t budge. By the time we find a window we can fit through, we’re frozen to the bone. “Let me go first,” I warn, after breaking the window and sweeping away the shards. “It’s a six foot drop.” Eric nods wearily, looking unsteady on his feet.
I scoot through the hole and manage to drop to the floor without falling on my ass. After helping Eric down, we flip on our flashlights and start down the darkened aisle. We’re in a hallway lined with grubby little offices, a breakroom, restrooms, and a lobby. It’s eerily quiet after the roar of the storm.
“Let’s try this way,” Eric suggests, making a right.
“Okay.” We’re both whispering when we come to a large set of rubber flaps at the end of the hall and cautiously step through. Identical grins line our faces as our lights fall on aisle after aisle of unopened merchandise. We just hit the damn lottery.
“First things first. Propane and kerosene,” Eric declares. “Then we see what else we want.”
“We should just camp here. The lobby is small enough to heat efficiently, and there are two couches to sleep on.”
“Agreed.” He smiles.
We explore the warehouse for hours, astounded at the wide selection of goods. By the time we retire to the lobby, it’s warm, almost hot. We have located better heaters and the fuel to power them, and we’re dressed in new thick winter clothes.
There’s an endless supply of canned goods, and though they have surpassed the expiration date stamped on the lids, they seem to be fine. By warming pans of water on the camp stove, we are able to bathe. “We’re going to be stuck for a few days at the least, and that’s if the snow stops soon,” Eric warns.
“I realize that. We were stupid to take this trip in the winter.”
“This isn’t normal Indiana weather, Airen. I would never have done this if I thought we’d be buried in snow and ice.”
“I’m not blaming you.” I grin half heartedly. I’m doing everything half hearted; the other half is with Abby. She and the kids are never far from my mind, but tonight, I feel their absence like a physical weight, dragging me down. And Joseph. Fuck, of course I miss my family, that’s normal, but why does the thought of Joseph’s grinning face send a similar ache through my chest? Shit, if I don’t stop thinking about them I’m going to start crying like a pussy.
I feel Eric’s puzzled gaze. “You okay?”
“Fine. Where is all this global warming the scientists kept warning us would happen?” I demand, clearing my throat.
He snorts. “Global warming causes severe weather at both ends of the spectrum. This,” he waves his hand toward the window, “is what they warned us would happen. Climate change in action.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. Crack a book sometime,” he quips, tossing me a bottle of bourbon.
“You and Abby, worshippers of the written word. You both believe there’s no problem a book can’t solve.”
“Don’t worry, I found something for your uneducated ass too.” He produces a portable DVD player and extra batteries. “If we hook up a generator tomorrow, we can recharge them, but it’s working for now.”
“Uneducated?” I scoff, pulling the box of DVDs over to sort through them. “I graduated from Carnegie Mellon.”
“Great, if I need someone to quote Shakespeare or teach me to cry on cue, you’re first on my list. Pick a movie.”
“Blow me.”
“Nope, no porn.” He laughs. Chuckling, I toss him a movie and he pops it in the player.
It snows for three more days. The building creaks and groans under the pressure of nearly three feet of snow. Eric stares warily at the ceiling.
“Creeping you out?” I ask.
“I don’t have a desire to be buried in a Superstore distribution center. If it starts snowing again, we should move to a house.”
“Fine. I hope it’s over, though. The sun’s out, but the thermometer only reads ten degrees.” I sigh. “It’s going to take forever to melt.”
“Yeah, I can’t even tell where the road is anymore. We were damned lucky to find this place. We could’ve frozen to death.”
“Hmm,” I reply, not really listening. It was lucky. It wouldn’t have been a bad place to spend an entire winter if it were necessary. I’m grateful, but all I can think about is Abby and Lane. How terrified she must be. She always expects the worst and by now she probably thinks I’m never coming home. “I’d give my left nut for a phone,” I mumble.
Eric regards me quietly. “I’m sure they’re fine, man. They’re more than prepared for the winter, even if they’re getting all this shit too. Joseph and Troy will look after Abby and your kids.”
I nod. “I just want to talk to her, and tell her we’re okay. That we’ll be back. She must be scared to death.”
“I understand. There’s just no help for it.” We remain quiet, lost in our own thoughts for a few minutes before Eric hops up. “Follow me. I want to show you something.” He drags me to the southwest corner of the building where sunlight streams through the windows, illuminating a portable basketball goal. He has moved it to a large empty patch of floor, and he tosses me a basketball. “First to twenty-one.”
We wait for nine excruciatingly long days for the snow to melt enough for the outline of the road to be visible. We find ways to pass the time, playing basketball, riding bicycles up and down the few aisles that aren’t too dark, watching movies and old seasons of TV shows. If I have to see another episode of Star Trek, I’m going to go batshit. Eric’s taste in television is worse than his taste in music. I have to get out of here.
“I have an idea,” I announce as we begin another monotonous morning.
Eric glances at me warily.
“This city has to have a way to plow the roads in the winter. If we could find a plow, maybe we could make it home.” I stare at him. “If you don’t want to, just say so, no harm no foul. Last time I talked you into driving on icy roads, you got hurt.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” He looks pensive for a moment before he hops up and heads for the door. “Well, get off your ass and help me search the offices for a phone book. We need the address for the Department of Transportation.” We quickly locate a directory and the DOT yard is only half a mile away. “The sun’s out and it’s not as cold. We can do a half mile in no time. It’s worth a shot.” He grins.
“We should go soon. We’ll need tonight to load up enough supplies to get us through if we get caught out in another storm.”
“Sure, but I think the worst is over.”
“I fucking hope so.” I grin and cover a cough.
“Are you getting sick?”
“Nah, probably the dust. I never get sick. Let’s go.”
It seems we’re finally due some good fortune. We find a large diesel pickup truck with a snowplow attached at the DOT yard. After changing the tires and the battery, it’s good to go. A large tank of fuel near the entrance makes filling our gas cans easy. Eric in
sists on loading half of the truck bed with the sandbags that are stacked along the walls.
“We’ll burn more fuel, but we’ll get better traction so I won’t put us in a ditch.” The sun is setting when we make it back to the warehouse, the truck loaded with supplies that could last an army through the winter. After the last few weeks, we aren’t taking any chances. Eric flashes me a smile before we turn off the lanterns and bed down for the night, and I grin back at him. We’re going home.
Eric shakes me awake just as the sun is rising, a concerned look on his face. Oh hell, what now? “Is it snowing again?” I demand.
“No, the sun’s out. You were coughing in your sleep all night, man. You’re sick.”
“It’s just a cold. I’ll grab some medicine before we go.”
Even with the plow, it’s slow going. There are areas too littered with cars and debris for the truck to traverse. Trees lie everywhere, piled like matchsticks, victims of all the ice and wind. When night falls and we camp in a tiny apartment, we have only managed to make it about thirty miles.
It’s snowing again when we pull back onto the road the following day, creeping along under a stone white sky. “We should at least make it to Vincennes today,” Eric remarks.
I nod. I’ve had very little sleep and it’s starting to wear on me. There’s a dull thudding behind my eyes that isn’t helped by the constant cough that keeps me from sleeping. I just want to get home. We cross into the Vincennes city limits just after dark with snow falling heavily around us. It surrounds the truck, closing us off and making me feel claustrophobic, like Eric and I are the only people in the world.
Another night in another house. Eric insists on starting the fire and making dinner. “Get warm and rest. You look like hell. I’ll throw together some vegetable soup.”
“Make whatever you want. I’m not hungry,” I mumble and wrap myself in a sleeping bag near the fire, promptly falling asleep. My chest aches when Eric wakes me the next morning.