by Kit Tunstall
I walked with the group into the hospital, not missing the fact they surrounded me. They were all clearly aware of how inept I was, and once again I questioned my instinctive decision to come along. I tried to force aside those thoughts and focus on the task at hand.
There were bodies outside and inside the hospital, and people had died on the floor in the waiting room. It was a sad sight, seeing all the people who had fallen and had no one to even give them a proper burial. Thankfully, there was still a fairly clear path through the floors, though we had to occasionally step over a fallen body.
Once we cleared the main floor, taking the stairs to the third level, which the directory had identified as Labor and Delivery, we found far fewer people by the third floor. There weren’t that many dead bodies at all in the lobby, and as we moved into the main part of the hospital floor, we no longer saw dead people lying on the floor or in waiting rooms. I didn’t look at the rooms, certain I’d find more dead bodies, and I couldn’t handle seeing that.
The women on this floor would have been here to give birth to their babies during the worst virus in the history of humanity, and the sights I would see would burn into my retinas. I’d never be able to forget them, and with Maisie in such a precarious position, I didn’t even want to contemplate how many women and babies had died here.
I kept my eyes focused ahead on the hallway, relieved to see the path was clear. We reached the NICU section, and it took three of the men to force the door open. They had heavy security, and of course no electricity. The generators had given way long ago, but so far our flashlights, combined with the early morning sunshine, had provided enough illumination to direct our path. Thank goodness hospitals were big on windows.
When we reached the NICU section, I stood in the middle of the floor, taking Ben’s hand. “I’m sorry, but I can’t search the rooms. Once you find an empty one, I’ll help retrieve supplies.”
He nodded, seeming to understand.
I watched them split into two teams, searching the nearest rooms. The first two rooms must have yielded horrors, because the men came out looking pretty awful, but at the third room, explored by Ben’s team, Jerry came to the door a moment later and waved me in before calling to the other team to join us.
I entered the room, finding it blessedly empty. It appeared to have everything we’d need, or at least everything that was on Grace’s list, and we packed it up quickly. A lot of the equipment was bulky, but we were determined to make it all in one trip and not have to come back. I took a large duffel bag that Clint held out to me, almost groaning under the weight, but determined to schlep it down the flights of stairs and back to the car.
After we had secured the supplies, we hurried back to the Suburban, and I was surprised to realize it taken us a little less than fifteen minutes from the time we’d left the car until we returned. Time felt like it was still ticking away much too quickly, but I felt some slight optimism that maybe we’d make it back before Grace had to undertake the cesarean.
We were just about to pull out when an SUV pulled into the parking lot behind us. The men tensed, and I gripped my gun as Ben cursed softly. We sat there for a moment, and he was watching the mirror intently. I turned around, surprised to see the driver’s door open and a single man step out. There were five others remaining in the car from what I could count, so clearly this wasn’t a show of aggression.
With another curse, Ben opened his door, and I turned to grab his arm. “What are you doing?”
“It’s that other group, the ones who shot at us. We’ve all steered clear of each other, but this is the first overture they’ve made. I have to meet him.”
I shook my head. “No you don’t. We have to get back to the camp. Just drive away.”
He let out a small sigh. “I’m going to make it quick, but if they’re showing any signs of diplomacy, we need to act on that. With the Fort Glacier people out foraging as well, we can’t watch ourselves as effectively if we’re looking out for two enemies. It’s better that these people are our allies, or at least our neutral companions, rather than another threat. I promise I’ll be quick.”
Before I could protest further, he slipped gently from my hand on his arm and slid out of the car. I watched with bated breath as he approached the stranger, both men holding their hands out in a gesture to suggest they were harmless. They met halfway between the vehicles, engaged in a quick, but intense conversation, and then Ben gestured to the back of the Suburban before nodding to the other man and turning to rush back to the car.
Relief swelled as soon as he slipped inside and closed the door. As he put on his seatbelt, I was sure I wasn’t the only one waiting to hear what had happened. Impatiently, I asked, “Well, what did he want?”
“He wanted to warn me of a heavy military presence starting to make itself known in the area. Right now, he estimates they have about twenty soldiers, and none of them are friendly or open to negotiation.”
“Fort Glacier,” I said softly.
Ben nodded. “I told them who it was, or at least who I suspected it was, and Collier warned me where they’re foraging today. They had a run-in with them yesterday afternoon. We’ll alter our route. We’re lucky we didn’t run into them earlier, since the way we came in was only a couple of blocks over from where they’re foraging.”
I leaned back in the seat, relieved at how the meeting had turned out, and glad to know it had been useful and might save us a run-in with Fort Glacier.
Ben went the opposite direction from where we had entered, taking what seemed to be a circuitous route thru the city. More than once, he had to go around a pileup of cars by driving on the sidewalk, and once, we had to pause long enough to push three vehicles out of our way so the Suburban could make it through, but once we were back on the highway leading out of Helena, we made good time again. Judging from the way the wrecks on the road had been moved to the side, I assumed that had been part of what the guys were doing when they went out daily. They must have been ensuring they had a clear route. I was grateful for it now.
Ben sped down the highway, driving faster than was probably safe, but we all felt the sense of urgency to return to the camp, both to deliver the supplies to Grace for Maisie and to be back in our safe haven. It struck me that it wouldn’t necessarily be safe for long, especially if Joshua had returned to Fort Glacier and crumbled by now.
Suspecting I was there and knowing I was there were two separate things. They might not have been willing to enter with guns blazing until they had confirmation I was at Camp Utopia, but once they knew for certain, I doubted they’d let a little thing like the possible casualties of twenty-eight people, counting Maisie’s baby, or even my possible injury or death, stop them from the retrieval mission.
Chapter Twelve
When we arrived back at camp, we discovered Grace was in the middle of performing the cesarean. The baby wasn’t going to wait any longer to come, and both she and Maisie were in distress. I helped haul in the equipment, but I stepped back and allowed others with more mechanical skills than me to figure out how to assemble it all.
Grace was too busy with the daunting task before her to offer much assistance, so we were relying on our memories of how it had been put together when we disassembled it all. Working together, they had the incubator and all the sundries associated with it set up and running within a half-hour.
I jumped with surprise when Grace said my name, almost barking it. “Yes?”
“I’m about to take out the baby, and I need you to take her. You’ll have to clear her airway and try to keep her stable for a little while.”
I frowned. “I don’t have any medical training. Shouldn’t you be the one to do that?”
She looked up at me, just briefly, but her eyes revealed her deep concern. “Maisie’s bleeding heavily, and I can’t stop in the middle of the surgery to check out the infant. You’re just going to have to do your best.”
I remembered telling her something along the same lines and nodded
as I moved closer. I went to the sink and washed my hands thoroughly before taking a towel from the stack and laying it across my arms. Cautiously, I approached Grace and Maisie, my heart stirring with pity when I looked down and saw the fear in Maisie’s eyes.
Grace would have had to use either a local anesthetic or something that would block the pain by putting it in her spine, because we didn’t have the necessary equipment to perform general surgery. I wish we’d thought about it while we were at the hospital, but there hadn’t been any time to waste. We should definitely see about outfitting a proper surgery room for Grace, I thought idly, as I met my friend’s terrified gaze.
Maisie was pale and sweaty, and I wasn’t certain if she was feeling some pain or just afraid of what was happening. I would have taken her hand to squeeze it, but I had just gotten mine sterilized, so I gave her a smile instead, trying to encourage her to continue fighting without touching her.
Grace pulled the baby out and laid her on Maisie’s stomach, clamping the umbilical cord and cutting it before moving the baby into my arms. She was small and quiet, with slightly pinker skin than I had expected, but her eyes were open. She just wasn’t crying.
“Is she all right?” asked Maisie.
“We’re going to do the best we can for her and you,” said Grace.
“Can I hold her?”
“Not yet, Maisie. Sofia is going to take care of her while I finish taking care of you.”
I made the mistake of looking briefly at the incision as I moved away with the baby, and nausea surged in my stomach, burning a hot trail up my esophagus. I barely managed to choke it down again as I quickly averted my eyes and turned to the area the men had arranged for the baby. I didn’t even know her name “What are you going to call her?” I asked Maisie.
“Lila,” she said, her voice sounding slurred.
I laid Lila on the incubator table and dried her with the towel. She seemed to be breathing, though it was raspy, and I didn’t really know what Grace meant by clearing her airway. I asked Grace, and she walked me through it, and though it eased Lila’s breathing a little bit, she was still clearly struggling.
With Grace’s verbal instructions and assistance from Ben, who had remained behind, we managed to figure out the manual respirator, deciding to wait for Grace before trying to hook up to the ventilator if Lila needed that. It would require intubating her, and there was no way I was going to do that with a helpless infant since I had no experience. I could tell Ben felt equally ill at ease at the idea, so we just continued to rhythmically squeeze the oxygen bag as we waited for Grace to finish Maisie’s surgery.
Suddenly, Grace cursed. “Ben, I need you here now.”
I took the bag from him, squeezing in the same careful pattern Grace had told us about as he turned and rushed to her side. I didn’t know what was happening exactly, but it was clear Maisie was in trouble. I angled my body to glance over my shoulder while still being able to squeeze the oxygen bag and was alarmed to see Ben was currently trying to resuscitate Maisie. Clearly, she had stopped breathing. I held my breath as he pushed down on her chest before pausing to breathe into her mouth. He did that several times without a response.
“You’re going to have to shock her. We have a unit over there.” Grace gestured with her head toward a shelf, and Ben must have known what he was looking for. He grabbed it, and the P.A. walked him through what to do with it. I held my breath the first time he pressed the button, and Maisie’s body jolted off the table. I could have sobbed with relief when Grace said, “She’s back with us.”
After that, things seemed to move rapidly. Ben remained by Grace’s side, I guess ensuring he was available if Maisie left us again. Grace finished the operation within twenty minutes, and then turned to evaluate Lila. She looked exhausted, and she was covered in blood, but there was also a hint of elation in her gaze. I smiled at her, and from the way her eyes crinkled, I think she was smiling back from behind the mask. “Good job, Grace.”
“I think they both might make it.” She turned her attention to the baby, and I moved away slightly, giving her room to work. I acted as Grace’s assistant once she made the decision to intubate the baby, handing her the supplies, but turning my head away before I could witness the actual procedure. Lila was so tiny, and I was certain anything could go wrong in the process. Anything could go wrong with any of us, but Lila and Maisie were in immediate peril.
More than an hour after we’d returned, Grace finally declared she didn’t need us any longer, at least for the moment. She asked Ben to send a couple of people willing to help her out, and it was clear she needed some rest too.
Before leaving the infirmary, I stopped to check on Maisie. She was still asleep, but her breathing was even and regular, and though she was wan, she wasn’t deathly pale. I was hopeful my friend would recover from the traumatic birth and soon be the one standing vigil at her daughter’s bedside. Within a few weeks, maybe Lila would be healthy enough to leave the infirmary and join the rest of the residents in the camp.
If the camp remained. The thought made me stumble as I walked out of the tent, abruptly recalling the suffocating sensation of Fort Glacier bearing down on me. I was too exhausted to dwell on the fear at the moment and stumbled into the tent I shared with Ben, glad to have a supportive arm around my waist. By unspoken agreement, we moved to the mattress and collapsed across it. I didn’t even bother to undress or take off my shoes. I was simply too exhausted after the morning’s events.
Over the next week, Maisie quickly improved, though Lila wasn’t faring quite as well. She was still on a ventilator, though Grace had been able to reduce the amount of oxygen she received. We all held our breath, fearing any complications that might arise. One of the men on a run had thoughtfully grabbed Grace two medical books dealing with the subject of prematurity, so she was a little more knowledgeable on what to look for and expect now, but it was clear she lived in fear of any of the complications arising. We were all realistic enough to know we didn’t have the resources or the skills to treat her if she developed something like a brain bleed or any of the other myriad complications that could arise.
There was a pall cast over the camp as we all waited to see if the first baby born at Camp Utopia would become its twenty-eighth member or the fifth person to be buried in the makeshift cemetery edging the property.
In an effort to distract myself, and also to help keep the camp running smoothly under the strain, I threw myself into work, along with volunteering for duties that weren’t part of my assigned roster. By the time I fell into bed each night, I barely had the energy to make love with Ben before falling into a deep sleep. I knew I needed to slow down a bit, but slowing down meant thinking, and thinking led to thoughts of Fort Glacier, and what they could do to this camp.
I half-expected them to come knocking at any moment, but as more days passed, I cautiously dared to hope Ben’s assessment of Joshua had been correct, and he wouldn’t betray me to Fort Glacier. I knew I should leave to keep everyone else safe, but I was too frightened to do so. I didn’t want to leave the place that had become my home, and though Ben would come with me, it wasn’t an ideal solution. The two of us alone out there didn’t stand much of a chance.
I was in the garden when I heard a rumbling sound. I looked up, eyes widening with fear when I saw a military truck stop at the entrance of the camp. I was certain it was Briggs, though I couldn’t be absolutely sure of the person’s identity from the distance where I was as the driver climbed out of the truck. Two other people emerged from the other side, and I was trembling when I saw they each carried some kind of assault rifle, clearly military-issued. I didn’t know guns well enough to identify them even if I’d been standing directly in front of them, but they were terrifying to look at.
Acting purely on instinct, I moved away from the garden to the kitchen, finding Joel. “I need to go into the root cellar.”
He nodded, already aware of what I meant. We’d discussed this contingency shortly after
their first search through the camp, so we had a tentative plan in place. He opened the trap door for me, and I stepped inside, grimacing at the dark, tight confines. I crouched down, fumbling for the flashlight I’d left on the shelf for just this purpose as the door above me closed. I heard the scrape of furniture moving across the boards they had placed down as part of their makeshift kitchen floor, and I hoped it wouldn’t be too obvious that the heavy industrial fridge had been rearranged to cover the spot.
I was well and truly trapped, and my heart thundered in my ears as I struggled to control the panic. I didn’t think I was claustrophobic, but it was difficult not to be when I was enclosed in this tiny dark space, technically buried alive with the weight of the heavy appliance barring my exit. I wouldn’t get out of here unless someone let me out, and the thought made my stomach churned with nausea. My head spun, and I started breathing shallowly.
I was perilously close to a panic attack, and I couldn’t afford to lose control like that. If I screamed or in some other way brought attention to my hiding space, they would find me.
Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on nothing, emptying my thoughts as well as possible as I controlled my breathing and didn’t open my eyes to see how close the walls pressed around me. Slowly, I managed to relax enough to at least lean back a bit. I rested my butt on what I tentatively identified as a large can, though of course I had no idea what kind of can. I was lightheaded, and sweat beaded my brow, but I fought for each breath, managing to inhale and exhale as smoothly as I could until the calm overtook the panic.
I lost track of time, perhaps even starting to drift off to sleep, though I don’t think I was that relaxed, when I suddenly jerked at the sound of the appliance above me being moved. I held my breath, waiting to see who was on the other side of the trapdoor.
When it first opened, the light nearly blinded me, since I’d had my eyes closed most of the time and had been in near-perfect darkness. At some point, I must have turned off the flashlight in my panic, and I hadn’t realized it. To go from total darkness to the sunlight streaming in suddenly made me blink and obscured the identity of the person standing above me for a moment.