With that she walked out of the room, and Scott was left to his own thoughts. He wondered how things were going back at the compound, and hoped everything was running smoothly in his absence.
-13-
Scott dozed off and thought he was dreaming when he heard voices again. Then he recognized one of them as Nurse Becky’s and slowly opened his eyes.
A tall thin man with olive skin stood over him.
“Well, Mr. Harter. Welcome back to the world of the living. You’ve been asleep a long time. How are you feeling?”
Scott managed to nod his head. He hoped the doctor understood.
He seemed to.
“That’s good. I’m sure you remember none of your ordeal, so you’ll have to take my word for it. You’ve come a very long way.
“I have some good news as well as some bad. Your white cell count is pretty much back to normal now, and that means we’ve whipped the infection from your wound. We’ll be taking you off of antibiotics very soon. Your wound is healing very well, and one of my interns will be removing the external sutures this afternoon. The internal ones will dissolve on their own.
“There’s bad news too. You were out there without a mask, and were exposed to the plague. Thus far you haven’t displayed any of the symptoms, which is why you’re in this ward instead of under quarantine. However, we’re going to monitor you closely, and the moment you show any sign of the disease you’ll be transported out of here immediately.
“It may be that the penicillin you were receiving for the infection in your wound protected you from the plague. It’s possible that you had it and have ridden out the storm and are now immune. But we have no way of knowing that. You should assume that you were exposed and are a carrier.”
Scott reached for his pad and scrawled, “When will I be released? And when can I go home?”
“The policeman who brought you in said he was a friend of yours, and he explained your situation. The first of your questions is easy. As long as you continue to progress, you can expect to be out of here in a week or two. First we’ll get you eating again, then try to regain use of your digestive system. Once you can expel everything normally, and are strong enough to get around on your own, we’ll kick you out of here.
“As for going home, that’s a bit more complicated.”
The doctor must have seen the look of disappointment on Scott’s face.
He elaborated.
“Look. You were out there unmasked. If you’re lucky, you’re only a potential carrier now. If you caught it, you’ll come down with symptoms at some point and we’ll have to hit you with antibiotics again. It’s also possible, like I said, that you already had it and the penicillin we gave you for your wound took care of it. If that’s the case, we’ll probably never know. Right now we’ll have to go with the assumption that you’re at least carrying it.
“Whether or not you decide to go home right away depends on how much you love your family. That’s very blunt, but unfortunately it’s reality. Robbie tells me that right now they’re in a safe place, and that’s great. But if you are a carrier and go back to them, you could kill them all. Or at least the most vulnerable among them.”
Scott scribbled, “Do you mean I’m stuck here forever?”
“No. Plagues normally run through an area, do their damage, and then dissipate. Sometimes they come back for a second round, but usually not. Indications are this one will run its course and won’t be back. The latest estimates from the CDC say that we’ll ride out the storm within the next few months. In the meantime, I’d strongly suggest you stay here. It’ll be safer for you, and certainly safer for your family as well.
“I’ve got to get back to my rounds, but I’ll be back to see you tomorrow. Are there any other questions I can answer for you before I go?”
Scott was in a daze, but it had nothing to do with his wound or his weakened state. He was trying to wrap his head around the idea of being away from everyone he loved for several months.
He looked at the doctor and weakly shook his head no.
As promised, an intern stepped in as the sun started to drop low and its light cast shadows in the room. He turned on the room light, and Scott was relieved that the hospital had power.
The intern seemed to read Scott’s thoughts.
“They finally got the generators repaired a few days ago. The wiring was insulated against power surges, which protected it from the EMPs. But we couldn’t get the power back on until the generators were working again. Before then we were doing everything we could during the day, and then working by candlelight at night. It was medieval. Simply awful. I’m Jeff, by the way.”
Scott managed to squeak out a single word.
“Scott.”
“It’s easier on your throat if you whisper, Scott.”
He tore open a suture removal kit, which was essentially a pair of tweezers and a small pair of blunt scissors in a sterile paper packet.
“Okay, we’ll do the front side first. Then I’ll have you lay on your side and I’ll do the other side. You ready?”
Scott whispered “yes,” and was surprised to see that Jeff was right. It didn’t hurt his throat to whisper.
Jeff poked at his wound, and said, “It looks like it’s healing well. You’ll feel some tugs, but it shouldn’t hurt.”
It took almost half an hour to remove the stitches. Jeff applied some type of cream and bandages to both sides of Scott’s shoulder. Then he eased Scott back onto his back.
For the first time, Scott could see a strange man standing in the hallway watching. He wondered who the man was, but didn’t ask.
“Okay, no bleeders, no discharges. I didn’t see any sign of localized infection. I think we can safely say you’ve survived your first gunshot wound. Let’s try to make it your last one too.
“We’ll change your bandage daily, and will keep an eye on both wounds. When you move around in bed, be gentle. We don’t want you to reopen the wound and have to restitch it. Any questions?”
Scott shook his head no.
“Okay, then. I’ll get out of your way and let you spend time with your visitor.”
“Thank you,” Scott whispered.
Jeff walked out of the room and the strange man came in from the hallway.
Scott recognized the man’s voice immediately. No introduction was necessary, but he got one anyway.
“Hello, Scott. I’m Robbie.”
-14-
Although the two had never met, at least formally, it seemed that Scott had found an old friend. And he had a lot of questions.
He asked, in a hoarse and painful whisper, “They told me the police found me and brought me in. Was that you?”
“Yes. Joyce was worried sick about you. She and Hannah asked me to go look for you, and I found you unconscious in your living room. You were in bad shape. They tell me you died twice on the operating table.”
“Thank you, Robbie.”
“Don’t mention it. You saved the life of my best friend. And you know what they say,” he smiled. “No good deed goes unpunished.”
“Does Joyce know I’m alive?”
“Yes. I’ve been coming by here every other day, after I visit John upstairs, to check on you. Then I go to John and Hannah’s house to give them an update. They’ll be glad to hear you’re awake.”
“How’s John doing?”
“His involuntary mobility is increasing. That’s doctor speak for ‘he moves his arms and legs in his sleep.’ They tell me that’s a good sign. For a long time he just laid there like a tree trunk. So I guess any movement at all is a step in the right direction.”
“Can you give Joyce and my kids a message for me?”
“I was going to ask what you want me to tell them.”
“Would you tell them I’m going to be fine, but the doctor says I have to stay here until the plague plays itself out?”
“Sure. I’ll tell them. I suspected they’d tell you that. Do you have any plans on w
hat you’ll do in the meantime?”
“No idea. Stay at my house and help the survivors grow crops, I suppose. I’ve learned a little bit about farming from a friend of mine. Is the National Guard still going around handing out food from the back of trucks? Maybe I can help them too.”
“Yes, they’re still doing that, but they won’t let you volunteer. They stopped accepting help from civilians a while back. A lot of the volunteers were stealing the food for their own families or giving extra rations to people they knew.
“I have a better idea, if you’re interested.”
Scott gave him a blank look.
“Ever think of becoming a cop?”
It hurt when Scott laughed, and he quickly stopped. But he could tell by the look on Robbie’s face that he was serious.
“No. I mean I’ve never thought about it. And I’m pretty sure I’m too old and out of shape to go through your police academy.”
“There is no police academy, Scott. There hasn’t been one since the blackout. Most of the instructors are dead now. Those that survived are working the streets with the rest of us. And we’re woefully undermanned. These days we’re doing everything by OJT. On the Job Training. We find good men who are willing to help, team them up with an experienced officer, and they learn as they go.”
Scott smiled and whispered, “If you don’t mind me saying so, that sounds like a hell of a way to run a police department.”
“Well, I agree with you on that, my friend. But under the circumstances we don’t have a lot of options.”
“But you don’t know me from Adam, or anything about me.”
“My best friend John trusted you enough to place his wife and daughters under your care. Obviously he has faith in you. And you almost got yourself killed saving his life. Those two things are all I need to know.”
“Well, thank you for that.”
“Think about the offer, Scott. The Chief of Police has the final say-so, so you’ll have to meet with him. But I’ll vouch for you.”
“Okay. I’ll give it some thought.”
“I’m headed over to John and Hannah’s house to call your people. I’ll stop back by the day after tomorrow and check up on you again. In the meantime, get your rest and get well. In my next report, I want to tell Joyce you’re out of bed and jogging around the hospital to get in shape for your new job.”
“Yeah, right. Thanks again, Robbie. I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for you.”
“And John wouldn’t be upstairs if it weren’t for you. Karma’s not always a bitch. Sometimes it’s pretty good at repaying debts. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
Robbie walked out of the room and Scott closed his eyes to think. He thought what a kick his sons would get at the prospect of their father becoming a cop.
He smiled. “Officer Harter.” It did have a nice ring to it.
Then he drifted off to sleep.
-15-
“Hey, you awake?”
Scott had been pondering his future when Robbie Benton rapped his knuckles on the door frame.
“Oh, hi, Robbie. Come in.”
Robbie stepped in, followed by a tall thin man with graying hair and a very distinguished demeanor.
“Scott, this is our Chief of Police, Mike Martinez.”
Martinez reached across the bed to shake Scott’s right hand.
“Nice to meet you. Scott. You know, you’ve already got a reputation as a hero with SAPD officers. Your risking your own life to bring medicine for Officer Castro was above and beyond. I’ve been a fan of John Castro since his first day on the force. He fought hard just for the privilege of joining us. I don’t know if his wife told you about his background. He was a one legged war hero. Most disabled vets would have hung it up and lived out their lives on their pensions and been happy. But not John. He fought hard to prove himself capable of being a cop. He fought even harder to prove those who said it couldn’t be done wrong. And he showed everybody what he was made of. He was and still is a great officer. And for me personally, he became a great friend. And almost a second son.
“He’s a hell of a cop. And he was almost brought down. Not by a felon’s bullet or in a high speed pursuit, but by a damn virus caused by decaying bodies. And by his own body’s allergy to penicillin.
“And he would certainly have died if you hadn’t risked your own life to save his.”
Scott looked up at Chief Martinez and noticed a tear in the man’s eye. It was obvious that John Castro meant a lot to him.
The chief continued.
“There are a lot of things I hate about this job. I’ve had to visit several young wives over the years to deliver terrible news about their husbands being killed or critically injured in the line of duty. I’ve hated those times.”
He suddenly smiled, which seemed to Scott to be totally out of place. Behind him, Robbie bit his lip, trying his best to hide his own smile.
Scott was confused.
Martinez went on.
“There are other things about this job, though, that I thoroughly enjoy. Like having the power to tell my officers to back off and let me be the one to share occasional good news. Like Officer Benton, for example.
“Officer Benton was chomping at the bits to rush down here and give you a bit of good news. But I held him back. I told him to hold his tongue. I told him that there’s only one chief in the SAPD. And that’s me. And sometimes I just pull rank, because, well, because that’s the kind of son of a bitch I am.
“So I told Robbie to keep his mouth closed. That I wanted to be the one to tell you that John Castro woke up last night. And that he wants to see you.”
Scott caught his breath, and smiled.
The chief went on.
“He’s still dazed and confused. He’s been asleep for a long time, so that’s understandable. But when I told him you might become a peace officer he smiled. When I told him he could take you under his wing and become your training officer, he smiled again. That tells me he approves of the idea.”
Now it was Scott’s turn to speak.
“But I’ve never been a police officer. Never wanted to be. Never aspired to it. When I was a kid, and my friends wanted to be policemen, I wanted to be a fireman instead.”
Martinez laughed.
“Well, it’s not for everybody. And I won’t twist your arm. But let’s just deal with the facts here. The first fact is that you can’t leave San Antonio for the foreseeable future without putting your family in great peril. You’re going to need something to do to occupy your time, or you’ll go bonkers.
“Fact two: The San Antonio Police Department is critically manned. We’re doing all we can to help as many people as we can, but the sad reality is we don’t have enough officers to do everything we want or need to do.
“Fact three: Regardless of what your aspirations were when you were a kid, you’re the type of man we’re looking for. You put your ass on the line to save someone you never even met. That alone told me everything I needed to know to decide I wanted you to join us. The decision is yours, of course, but I think you’d be a good fit with our department.
“Of course, it’s hard work. But there are some benefits. We eat the same FEMA rations as everybody else, but they’re delivered to the station so you don’t have to stand in line for an hour to get them. We have transportation and the bad guys don’t. And by the way, thanks for that. I understand you are the one who introduced John Castro to the guy who told us how to get our squad cars running again.
“The city counsel has created a program called ‘Houses for Hours’ for city employees. Since money doesn’t exist anymore, they saw a need for a means to pay workers for their trouble. The city has seized thousands of homes from people who have committed suicide or disappeared. Any city employee who works forty hours per week for a year gets their choice of the available houses, no strings attached. And a guarantee that they won’t have to pay property taxes for ten years.
“Here’s the biggie, Scott.
I know you already have a home outside the city. You may not need or want another home. And you may not be willing to commit for a year with us. You may want to run home to your family the moment the CDC gives the all clear and says the plague is through with us.
“And I wouldn’t blame you for that. Hell, I’d do the same thing. But if you’re the kind of man I think you are, you’ll figure that since you’re going to be here anyway, you’ll want to help wherever you can. If you’re the kind of man I think you are, you’ll realize that you can help a lot more people riding around with John Castro than you would sitting in your house waiting for the plague to go away.”
Nurse Becky walked into the room to record Scott’s vitals, and put an old fashioned thermometer in his mouth.
Chief Martinez said, “Hey, that reminds me of an old joke. Do you know the difference between an oral and a rectal thermometer?”
Scott, unable to speak with the thermometer under his tongue, merely shrugged.
“The taste.”
The chief laughed. Scott suddenly looked panicked. Robbie grinned and Nurse Becky just rolled her eyes.
Scott decided at that point he liked Chief Martinez. They had the same sense of humor.
Martinez said, “Well, think about it. Let Officer Benton or Officer Castro know if you want to join us, and I’ll bring you a badge and swear you in. If you choose not to, then I wish you well and thank you for everything you’ve already done, on behalf of our great city.”
He held out his hand and Scott took it.
Martinez turned on his heels and headed for the door, but Scott stopped him.
“Chief?”
Martinez turned and said, “Yes?”
“I’ve already been thinking about it. Count me in.”
“I’m confident you’ll be a fine officer. The doctor told me you’ll be out of here in a couple of days. I’ll be back to see you before then.”
Nurse Becky waited until Martinez and Robbie were gone before she smiled and commented, “You’re a sucker for punishment, aren’t you, Mr. Harter?”
Rise From The Ashes: The Rebirth of San Antonio (Countdown to Armageddon Book 3) Page 6