The Pulse Effex Series: Box Set

by L. R. Burkard

  As it was, little Mrs. Wasserman ran and dragged him by the arms after taking a deep breath and holding it in. It’s a miracle she got them both out—but she fell down herself afterward. The children’s shouting alerted the rest of us.

  I hurried with a few other people to the Buchanan’s cabin where Blake is on a sofa in the big living area, surrounded by his family and Lexie and Mrs. Martin. (Mrs. Wasserman was helped, on shaky legs, to her own cabin, but it looks like she’ll be fine.) Blake, however, is terribly groggy. Hardly responding to anyone.

  Mr. Clepps and Mrs. Philpot—just when we need them—are still with Jared! We have no oxygen to administer; no medicine to give that will help! All we can do is monitor his pulse and wait for him to wake up fully—and pray.

  I found our encyclopedia and looked up methane poisoning—all it talks about is how methane is formed on farms mostly by cattle, not only in their waste, but primarily in their digestive gases. It didn’t help. I guess I need a medical book on methane poisoning. I sure wish we could call an ambulance.

  I’ve never seen Lexie so distraught. Roper came in from lookout duty and put an arm around me. We gathered in a circle around Blake and prayed and prayed.

  And now all we can do is wait.

  Wait to see if Jared’s amputation will save his life.

  Wait to see if Blake will be himself again.

  I keep wondering, Oh Lord, how long? How long!

  Chapter 33

  SARAH

  So this was Plan B! An opening in the wall! But where would it lead?

  In the dimness of the hallway, Tex’s hand nudged my arm.

  “C’mon, dumplin’. Grab a tote and follow us.” Angel hung on to Kool’s collar as he snarled and barked, straining to free himself . Pound! Something rammed the door from outside. We heard scuffling.

  “Hurry!” Angel whispered tensely. And then Kool wrangled loose and tore towards the door. He jumped at it, barking furiously—and, before Angel even got close enough to grab his collar again, a shot came through the door—and Kool, without a sound, flopped to the floor.

  “Noooooo!” I yelled. Angel stood there frozen, staring down the hall at the animal.

  Tex had to take her arm. “C’mon, hon. Just leave him.” Tex adored the dogs as much as any of us. Kool's loss would be keenly felt by him but he issued directions, keeping us on task, making us move despite the numb grief creeping over our minds.

  “Lower your head,” he said, nudging me back towards the portal. It was a sliding door but it felt like a portal to me, as though I was in a science fiction world where magical doorways appeared just when you needed one. If only we’d taken Kool through this doorway before he could run off! I held onto Angel ahead of me and, crouching slightly, passed through the opening from the murky darkness of the house into a deeper, thicker, darkness. I could see nothing. I felt a blast of cooler air hit me but I might as well have been blind.

  Hands took my arms, moving me gently back against the wall. Tex said, “Stay right here. Do NOT move.” Something in his voice told me he meant business, so I stayed put. But was this their idea of safety? Staying crammed behind a wall like sardines in a can?

  He and Richard, from what I could tell, were going back and forth from the hallway to this dark recess, bringing all the supply totes that were stacked there.

  “Angel? Are you in here?” I asked.

  “I’m here, Sarah.” She sniffed. She was crying for Kool. “I’m keeping the door open for the men.” Her voice was sad. I listened while Tex and Richard brought all the boxes and totes from the hallway into this dark domain. I could understand why they wanted the stuff: We had essential things in those totes but what I didn’t understand was how we’d use any of it if we were stuck here. Sure, we were on the other side of the wall but how long could we hide here? Even Anne Frank had a whole apartment to live in when she and her fellow Jews went into hiding during World War II.

  I could still hear pounding at the door. My heart was in my throat. The image of Kool on the floor was fresh in my mind and I wasn’t feeling a whole lot safer just because we’d entered a hidden recess.

  “Keep this door open,” Angel said.

  Tex said, sharply, “Where you going, hon?” I heard Angel’s voice come wafting as she went further away. “I’m grabbing our chickens!” Tex gave an exasperated snort.

  I stayed huddled there, wondering what good any of this would do—it seemed impossible to me that we’d survive once those marauders gained entry to the house. Noisy chickens seemed like the last thing we needed!

  When Angel was back with her chicken (only one, it turned out, because the others went squawking off in all directions) Tex said, “Richard, you in here?”

  “Yup,” came the answer.

  “Okay, we got our stuff, I’m gonna close us in,” Tex said.

  “What are we doing?” I whispered. “How can we stay here?”

  “Shhh!” Angel said. “Hold onto me and follow.”

  Behind me I heard a whoosh and a whump as the door in the wall shut. The darkness was complete.

  Tex struck a light using a cigarette lighter—and relief flooded over me. Until I realized we were on a wide ledge of dirt and rock. Looking around Angel’s short frame, I saw it ended a few feet ahead. She put out a hand to stop us. “Don’t move, Sarah. I want you to watch what I do—and then do exactly what you see.” I peered ahead of her to see what came after the end of the passageway. It was a sharp drop—into nothing.

  “C’mon, do what I do, Sarah,” Angel said again. She turned around to face me, slung a burlap bag holding the chicken over one shoulder, and got on her knees. Moving slowly, she inched backwards towards the drop.

  “What are you doing?” I hissed. “You’re gonna fall!”

  “There’s a ladder there,” she said, calmly. “You just need to find it with your feet.” And then she began descending. She put her legs over and then soon was disappearing until finally her head went out of sight. The last thing she said before vanishing was, “Turn around and get on your knees!”

  “Go on, girl,” Tex’s deep voice came from behind me.

  I swallowed, turned around and got slowly onto my knees. My hands were on hard, packed dirt and my backpack felt suddenly heavy. What if its weight pulled me over before I’d found my footing on the ladder?

  “I need to take off my pack!” I said, and stopped to do so. Then I started backing toward the edge just as Angel had. My foot went over the side and I felt—nothing. Air! Frightened, I pulled it back up. “There’s no ladder!” I gasped.

  “Shhh,” Tex said. “It’s there, just put your foot down lower, you’ll find it. It’s very straight—built into the dirt.”

  “Here,” Richard said, taking my hand. “I’ve got you. You won’t fall. Find the top rung.”

  Again I dangled my foot over the side, and reaching down, swung my leg around to find the first step. I’ve heard of taking a leap of faith but this felt like suicide. I was nearing panic level when my leg brushed something protruding slightly—I’d found it! I planted my foot on the rung.

  Tex had gotten to his knees and now he held the cigarette lighter out over the edge. Peering down, clinging to Richard’s hand for dear life, I could see the next step. The ladder was vertical, not angled, which made it harder to descend and I didn’t relish going down further. Beyond the next step, I saw only darkness.

  Angel’s voice came up from the dark: “C’mon, Sarah, you can do this. It isn’t that bad,” she chided.

  “What do I hold onto?” I fretted.

  “I’ve got you,” Richard said, firmly. “Just get on the ladder with both feet and then you’ll be able to hang on.”

  Tex squeezed in next to Richard and grabbed my other hand. Between the two of them (and since I had no choice) I got both feet on the ladder. “Okay,” I said. “Don’t let go! Now what?”

  Richard let out a breath of impatience. “You keep going.”

  “Don’t let go, yet!”

&
nbsp; “We won’t. Don’t worry!”

  I realized I’d have to let go of their strong hands in order to proceed. Gingerly, I released Richard’s hand but told Tex not to let me go, yet.

  Clinging to him with one hand, I felt around with my other for something to grasp. When I felt the wood of the ladder, relief shot up my spine. Slowly I felt around for the next step—but it didn’t materialize.

  “The next step is too far!” I cried.

  “If I can climb up and down this ladder,” chided Angel, who was at least three inches shorter than I, “then you can, too!” That seemed reasonable. I slowly dropped one foot—it felt like a long drop—until I found the next rung. Finally I had to let go of Tex’s reassuring hold, and I went down the next step. Almost immediately I saw Richard’s feet coming over the edge above me. I had no choice but to keep going. Each step felt like a shot in the dark. When I finally reached bottom it was with immeasurable relief.

  Angel lit a battery-operated lantern, and its glow revealed we were now in a small circular area, a cave, I guessed. There were two red children’s wagons in one corner, and a single passageway leading out—where it led I was yet to discover. Angel put a hand on my arm. “I didn’t know you were afraid of heights.”

  I was embarrassed but shaken. “If I could have seen where I was going, I would have been fine.”

  “Watch out,” she said, “Give your brother room.” I stepped aside just in time for Richard to hop off the ladder beside me. He handed me my pack. He had taken both our packs, which made me feel more embarrassed.

  “Heads up!” Angel cried. Suddenly I saw a huge wooden crate coming down from the ledge to the right of the ladder. It was on a pulley system and inside it were a couple of the totes we’d taken from the cabin. When it landed with a thud on the ground, Angel said, “C’mon, get these totes out so Tex can fill it again. Move them onto the wagons.”

  I was beginning to see there was a method to their madness. The wooden crate came down five times and each time, we emptied it and sent it back up to Tex. Richard loaded the red wagons until they could hold no more.

  Angel picked up a tote bag filled with kitchen stuff. “Take whatever you can carry,” she said, to me. “Then, come, follow me. The men will pull the wagons.”

  I grabbed a box that was very heavy but Tex stopped me and took it. “Here, this one’s more your size, dumplin’.”

  I would have argued with him but I was still feeling shaky. I took the lighter box. Besides, I had no idea how far I’d have to carry it.

  I turned and followed Angel, feeling awed by what was happening. Angel and Tex really did have a Plan B! They’d been prepared for something like this—for when they’d have to abandon the cabin. I still had questions, though. How long could we survive underground? What would we eat, beyond what we were bringing with us? What if that gang liked the cabin and decided to stay? Would our presence be detected if we made noise?

  I swallowed my questions and concentrated on following Angel. The passageway had many turns, each one just big enough by a hair for the wagon to maneuver. After a few minutes we went by a passage that went off to the right. “Where does that lead, Angel?”

  “It’s a dead end.”

  Tex added from behind us, “It’s a decoy tunnel. Gives an intruder something else to do before finding us, hopefully.”

  I don’t know how long we walked but we passed two more decoy tunnels. Somehow it was hard to track time underground—I had to fight claustrophobia, and minutes ticked on like hours. And then Angel came to a stop. In front of her was a large, narrow steel door. It reminded me of the hatches that submarines use.

  Angel took out a heavy key chain and only then did I notice all the locks on the door—seven of them. She opened each one methodically. I had the distinct feeling she was very familiar with the procedure. Then it hit me: this was where all those supplies had disappeared to! She’d been bringing stuff here all along without our ever knowing it.

  Finally, with the locks open, Angel used her whole body to shove against the door. It began to open with a slight creak, revealing that it was thick and insulated. It even had the wheel on the inside to open and close it like a submarine door! It was evidently waterproof—and probably fire proof, too. Angel and Tex never ceased to amaze me. We were just about to go inside but Tex said, “Shh!” Angel froze, leaving the heavy door ajar. Above us, but as though far away, I could hear thudding steps like people running, pounding the floor.

  “They’re in,” Tex said, in a grim voice.

  Angel pushed against the door again and it opened all the way. I followed her in, feeling like Alice in Wonderland. The interior was dark except for where her little lantern shed a circle of light. All I could tell was that we had entered a room. The men left the wagons outside, and started carrying in the contents. Angel moved farther in and a motion-detector light came on. I blinked, looking around me in astonishment. We were in an apartment!

  Chapter 34

  SARAH

  I set down the box and let the pack slide off my back. The place was so homey I felt immediately relaxed but hurried to explore. There was a living room and kitchen area, much more modern than what was upstairs. Above, we lived like colonials—heating and cooking with a wood stove or over an outdoor open flame. Here there was a glass-top stove, a microwave, even a toaster! I caught myself gaping and then shook my head. What was I thinking? We had all this stuff too, back at the apartment. The pulse had rendered it all useless. Even down here, there couldn’t be any electricity. All the huge transformers in the country had been fried by the pulse—Richard had explained it to me more than once.

  Richard let out a low, admiring whistle as he carried a tote full of kitchen supplies past me. Tex said, “We’re fairly soundproof but to be safe let’s keep the noise down.”

  I continued exploring, going further along the underground home, which seemed to be long and narrow—it was like a submarine—only much prettier. Tight hallways led to a bedroom and, all the way at the end, a bathroom with a shower! We’d been using an outhouse. I had an insane desire to sit right down and try the system for the sheer joy of flushing. But I figured it probably didn’t work and so I headed back towards the others, retracing my steps along the narrow passageway until it widened into the main living area.

  “It’s like a long submarine,” I whispered admiringly to Richard.

  Angel smiled. “Yup. Something like that.”

  Richard sighed and fell onto a sofa—he seemed no more impervious to the homey atmosphere than I was. “I gotta hand it to you,” he said, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back. “This is really…impressive. I can hardly believe it!”

  Angel smiled. “We figured if we had to resort to living here, we ought to make it as comfortable as possible.”

  Richard said, “You sure did that.”

  Tex crossed his arms, looking at Richard on the sofa. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he said. “We still have to take these wagons back for more supplies.” When they left to do so, Angel and I unpacked. As I did, looking around at the cozy furniture and pretty décor, I had a feeling of euphoria—this apartment seemed even better than the cabin!

  When the men had returned and brought in the rest of the boxes, Richard turned to Tex and Angel. “So you really did have a Plan B! I was beginning to wonder.”

  Angel smiled. “We even have a Plan C,” she said, grinning. “Sort of.”

  Richard’s brows went up. Curious, we followed her as she motioned us to a closet. Two doors opened outwards. When we peered inside, there was a row of four fat backpacks hanging on hooks, each labeled with a name.

  “These are our fail-safe packs—Call them Plan C—in case we ever have to vacate in a hurry.”

  “You made one for me and Richard?” I asked, surprised.

  “I’ve been filling them for weeks,” she said, proudly.

  I was deeply touched by this thoughtfulness. Tex had come up behind us. “Now, don’t touch these except to
familiarize yourself with what’s in them. They are strictly last resort. They have enough food and supplies for four days or so.”

  “Can I take a peek?” Richard asked.

  Angel nodded. “Sure.”

  Richard took down the pack with his name and began rummaging through it. I was content to watch him, leaving mine on its hook.

  “Wow!” Richard said. “This is good. It beats the pack I’ve been using.”

  “Over here’s body armor,” Tex said, moving to an adjacent cabinet. He opened it to reveal a neat row of firearms. There were rifles, pistols, boxes and boxes of bullets, ammo cans, and other things. The body armor was folded on a shelf.

  Richard reached for an armored vest. “Cool! Why didn’t we use this upstairs?”

  Tex looked sheepish. “In all the excitement, I never thought of it.”

  “Can I try this on?” Richard asked.

  Tex looked amused. “You shouldn’t need it down here but go on. Let’s see you wear it.” Richard removed his shirt, put on the body armor, and was about to replace his shirt, but Tex stopped and handed him a different one from the closet in camouflage green.

  “Here. We’ll do a dry run. See how geared up we can get you.” Richard allowed Tex to help him strap a Glock to his ankle with an ankle holster, and accepted other gear, including a knife, a second pistol, and a rifle, which he said was an AK. Richard slipped on the heavy pack that Angel had prepared. Afterwards he stood there, undeniably pleased, knowing he looked like a fully equipped soldier—ready for battle.

  “Well, son, you look like a force to be reckoned with.”

  I stifled a smile, hoping Richard had noticed that Tex had called him son. I’d never heard him do that before! It was proof that Tex really cared for my brother. After Angel and I oohed and aahed over him, Richard put everything away, and we got busy unpacking more supplies. We only made a dent in all that had yet to be put in cabinets or in the storage room but it was a start.