Scott asked, “How so?”
“You’ve just survived an ordeal that would have killed most men. And now you’re volunteering to off on another dangerous adventure.”
“And you think I’m crazy?”
“Crazy? No. But I think it’s very admirable of you. And maybe a little heroic too. I know those guys are working hard to save this city, and I know they need all the help they can muster to get it. Good for you, for volunteering to help them.”
“Doc didn’t tell me I’d be out of here in a couple of days. It seems the chief knows something I don’t.”
“Doctor Joco left orders to remove your Foley tube and waste bag today. You’ll get your last bag of saline tomorrow. Once you’re peeing 300 milliliters a day and your waste is solid, we’ll let you go home. But I have to warn you, that won’t happen unless you eat all the food we’re giving you and drink plenty of water on your own. You’ve been leaving some of the food on your tray. That’s a no no if you want to get out of here.”
“How come?”
“Two ways, actually. Your body is a lot smarter than you give it credit for. If it thinks you’re not getting enough nourishment, it’ll digest your food slower, so it can get as many nutrients from it as possible. That will make it longer before your waste is solid, and can lead to constipation. Secondly, the doctor won’t release you if he doesn’t think you’re strong enough to take care of yourself. And you’ll need nutrients to do that. Nutrients that come from food. The smart thing to do, from your perspective, is to eat whatever we bring you, whether you like it or not.
“In fact, since you’re going to be a cop when you get out, you should ask for seconds. You’re going to need to be strong to do what those guys do.”
“Oh, well in that case, please bring me extra of everything.”
“Even the green Jell-O you’re always complaining about?”
“Yes. Even that.”
She finished making annotations on his chart and looked out the window.
“It’s cold outside today, and a bit stormy. Do you want the shades open or closed?”
“Open, please. I was watching the storm clouds roll by before everyone came in. I’ve always liked thunderstorms, and the way they wash away so much of the dirt and grime.”
“Well, I guess from that perspective, you’re right. They’re a good thing. There’s a lot of ugliness out there now that I’d like to see washed away.”
She headed toward the door, then had an afterthought and turned back toward him.
“You asked if I thought it was crazy for you to accept a job as a policeman, after all you’ve been through. The truth is, I do. Think you’re a little bit crazy. But I’m glad you’re doing it. The chief was right. They do need more men like you. I’ll pray for your continued safety when you leave us and start your new journey.”
“Thank you.”
-16-
Robbie walked Chief Martinez back to his car and returned to Scott’s room. He walked in with a broad smile on his face and said, “All right! I’m looking forward to working with you, my new friend. I think you’ll love it!”
“Robbie, are you in a hurry to go somewhere?”
“Not really. I was heading over to John and Hannah’s house so I could call your people and give them their update. I can wait a little longer to tell your boys their old man’s gonna be a cop. What’s up?”
“Sit down for a minute, will you? I want you to tell me a little about what we’ll be doing.”
Robbie pulled a chair over to the side of the bed.
“Well, it’s nothing like what you saw on the old reality shows like Cops. No high speed police chases and slapping the cuffs on people. I haven’t made an arrest in a month.”
Scott must have looked surprised, so Robbie elaborated.
“There are very few crimes of violence any more. There were when the blackout first happened. More than we could keep up with. People with old grudges were killing each other, thinking they could finally get away with it. And to be honest, most of them did. A lot of rapists took advantage of our depleted numbers and just went crazy, raping women they’d had their eyes on for awhile. A lot of people wanted to commit suicide but didn’t have the guts. So they just started attacking people one after another, until an angry husband or boyfriend blew them away. There was a lot of violence among the looters initially. They broke into houses, shot everybody inside, and then took whatever they wanted.
“But gradually things changed. The victims started shooting back, and many of the looters found themselves dead on somebody’s front porch. The homeowners dragged the bodies into their front yards and left them there to rot, as a warning to other looters so stay away or suffer the same fate.
“That’s how we got rid of a lot of the looters. Most of the others finally figured out it was safer to knock on the doors and ask if there was anyone left alive inside, than to just break in. They were able to determine which houses were abandoned, or which houses were now tombs for families who’d already committed suicide. And they figured out those houses were a lot safer to loot.
“Little by little, most of the violence went away. I’m not saying there aren’t bad people out there. The sad fact is, there are a lot of people roaming the streets who have committed murders, assaults or rapes. But the acts themselves have mostly dissipated. And whatever crimes they’ve committed in the past, they’ll likely get away with. We don’t have enough officers to investigate homicides, or anything else for that matter. And even if we did, throwing bad guys in jail would accomplish nothing. The judicial system is no longer operating. Most of the judges are gone like everybody else. The courthouse sits abandoned, except for a bunch of homeless people who have taken up residence there because it’s the downtown drop point for the food trucks.”
“So if I won’t be arresting bad guys, exactly what will I be doing?”
“Mostly disgusting things that will turn your stomach. We’re trying to keep the citizens calm by making a visible presence. We stop by each of the block leaders’ houses daily, or at least every other day, just to ask if there are any problems we can quell for them. Then, in our spare time, we go from house to house, knocking on doors and hoping we don’t get shot.
“Most of the houses no longer have survivors in them. Maybe one out of five do, at best. Some of the others are empty, and we mark those with a big checkmark on the front door with orange spray paint.
“The remaining houses still have bodies inside. Suicide victims. Usually whole families who ran out of food and just couldn’t take it anymore. And sometimes murder victims, whole families just wiped out by marauders. That’s the worst part of the job. We have to drag the bodies out to the street and put them in a pile on the pavement. It’s a disgusting job, and you’ll vomit the first few times you do it. And the worst part of it is, many of the victims are children. And many of them are decayed to the point where the bodies fall apart, and you have to go back to pick up arms and legs that fall off as you drag them.”
“Is the National Guard still coming by to pick them up?”
“No, the National Guard’s numbers have dwindled too. Many of their members couldn’t handle the stress and just stopped reporting. Some of them committed suicide themselves. When their numbers dwindled to the point where they couldn’t keep up with the bodies, they just stopped doing it. Now they focus on food distribution only.”
“Then who picks up the bodies?”
“Nobody. We carry two five gallon Jerry cans in the trunks of our squad cars. We put the bodies in a pile in the street, douse it with diesel, and set it on fire. Then we move on.
“The fires typically burn themselves out after a few hours, but the bodies don’t completely burn. So when we come to a pile that’s anything more than ashes and bones, we douse it and start it burning again. After the second or third burn, the flesh is pretty much gone and all that’s left is a pile of ashes and bones. The winds will eventually scatter the ashes, and some day I suppose there will
be enough city employees with working vehicles to gather the bones and dispose of them.”
Robbie looked at Scott and smiled.
“You’re turning green, my friend. Should I call a nurse? I heard a rumor that there’s a few of them running around in here.”
“No. I’m okay. It just seems… incredibly sad, that so many people had to end up in such a way.”
“You won’t find anyone around here who disagrees with you, Scott. If it were up to me, I’d give every last one of them a funeral and a proper burial. But when the dead bodies outnumber the living two hundred to one, there’s no other way. And the CDC says the sooner the bodies are burned, the sooner the plague will run its course. And the less chance of a second plague taking hold. So it’s got to be done.
“And to be honest, as bad as it is, it could have been much worse. FEMA has been taking its helicopters to every city in Texas trying to assess each city’s needs. They say that a lot of cities and towns have just ceased to exist at all. They’re just ghost towns.
“San Antonio may be a city of ashes and bones. But at least we’re still here.”
Scott didn’t know what to say. He hoped he was up to the challenge.
It was as if Robbie could read his mind.
“Don’t worry. You’re tough. After what you’ve just survived, you’ll do fine. And if you throw up occasionally, we won’t make fun of you too much. We all do from time to time. It’s just a reminder that we’re human, that’s all.
“Now, I’m going to go call your people and give them a report, so that I can go home and get some sleep afterwards.”
“Do you have family at home waiting for you?”
Robbie grew melancholy.
“No. My family’s dead.”
He said it with sadness. But mostly just matter-of-factly. Like he’d long ago accepted that it was what it was, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He saw the look of horror on Scott’s face.
“I’ve learned to deal with it, Scott. It was the only thing I could do. Either deal with it or blow my brains out. Then I decided that the best way to honor the memory of my wife and our baby was to save as many others as I could. So other families wouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.”
“I’m sorry, Robbie.”
“Thank you, Scott. I appreciate that. Now, then. I’m going to tell your family that you can’t go home for awhile, so you’ve decided to become a cop instead. Anything else you want me to tell them?”
“Yes, please. They’ll be worried that I’ll get shot again. Would you tell them what you told me about most of the violent bad guys being gone?”
“Sure. Anything else?”
“Yes. Tell them I love them and miss them.”
-17-
Four days later Scott was suddenly mobile. All of the tubes had been removed from his body, and he was walking to and from the bathroom unassisted. He was still incredibly weak, but getting stronger by the day.
He had Nurse Becky to thank for that. She was nagging him unmercifully to eat every last bite of whatever food they brought him, no matter how disgusting it was.
“I’m sorry. There’s just something wrong about forcing humans to eat broccoli soup,” he’d protested.
“You’ll either eat it or I’ll put it in a syringe, and inject it into your backside. And not only will you eat it, you’ll enjoy it and then ask for more.”
She was making him walk to the end of the hallway and back, three times a day, always at his side to support him and catch him if he got dizzy or lost his balance.
They were becoming fast friends, and he was learning a lot about her. Her name was Becky Tomlin. And she, like Robbie, had lost her entire family. She’d enlisted Robbie’s help, and the help of John Castro, to bury them all in a mass grave, in her back yard. In that regard they were luckier than most. At least they had three people to say prayers over their grave, instead of just being dragged into the street and set on fire.
Becky said the hardest thing she ever had to do was to watch as John and Robbie shoveled dirt upon the body of her three year old son and nine year old daughter. They’d placed the body of her husband in the grave first, so that his body wouldn’t crush theirs. But that meant the children would suffer the indignity of having dirt thrown in their faces.
Becky said she saw that vision in her mind for weeks following the burial, and it tormented her.
She finally left the house. It was just too painful to walk through that doorway every day. And the two mile walk to and from the hospital every day was wearing her out.
Now, she slept on an extra mattress on the floor of the hospital’s cafeteria.
“It was once a bustling place to be,” she told Scott. “Full of laughter and conversation and gossip. Now, even though we have our generators working, we keep it dark in there on purpose. It’s become a place to sleep, no more and no less. There are twenty one of us in there now, and since we run three shifts, someone is always sleeping. The laughter and gossip is long gone. All that’s left is soft snoring and an occasional nightmare.”
“Have you thought of moving into one of the vacant houses nearby, with some friends, so you can at least get away from this place and unwind?”
“Actually, I have thought about it. Many of us have. But the sad fact is, we don’t know what we’d do away from the hospital. It’s all we have left. It has replaced our families, our homes, our very lives. Without the safety and security of this hospital, we’d be lost. And many of us would give up.”
She’d paused in their walk down the hallway long enough to look Scott in the eyes.
“The day I buried Eddie and Lisa and Johnny in my back yard was the worst day of my life. There were many days in the weeks that followed when I wanted to join them. To just take an overdose of something, or blow my brains out. I think the only way I got through that was knowing I could still do some good. I could still help save some of the others. It gave me a mission. A reason to go on.
“I’m afraid if I ever tried to break away from the hospital, I’d remember how easy it would be to join my family and let someone else do this. And I’m afraid I’d just give up and stop, when there’s so much left to do. Like it or not, this damn hospital is the only thing keeping me alive. And the only thing keeping me from going insane. I know it sounds ridiculous, and you probably think I’m crazy, but in a way, this hospital and the people in it has become my new family. It’s now my support system, and patients like you are my new mission in life.
“Instead of raising my children and then pushing them out of the nest to do some good in the world, I’m helping patients get better. Then I’m pushing them out into the world to help others. To grow crops, or burn bodies, or become cops. It’s become my new mission in life.”
Scott almost asked her how her family died, but caught himself. It didn’t really matter, and might cause her additional pain. If she’d been able to accept it as it was, then he certainly could as well.
-18-
Tony Pike was a scumbag by anybody’s standards. He’d grown up in Kerrville to a single mom who didn’t care if he ran the streets and got into trouble. In fact, she preferred it that way, because she felt safer when he was gone.
By the time he was seven, he’d already learned he could bully others into getting the things he wanted.
It was ridiculously easy. He already towered over every other one of his classmates. He simply demanded their lunch money, and threatened to beat them to a pulp if they refused.
Early on, a couple of the kids told their teachers. After Tony waited for them after school and left them beaten and bloody in the streets, the other kids took note. After that they accepted it as an unfortunate inevitability. They’d avoid Tony as much as they could, but if they were one of the hapless few he’d stumble across when he made his daily rounds, they’d pay up without complaint.
He graduated from that, of course, to shoplifting from retailers in the neighborhood. After he’d been banned from all th
e mom and pops, he stole a bicycle with saddlebag baskets to carry his spoils, then started biking to the big blue and red box stores half a mile away.
It was a little bit of work, but the payoff was much better.
By fourteen he’d been in and out of juvey three times. He’d heard it was hard. In reality, it was laughable. He was just as big a bully in juvey as he was on the outside. If anything, it just made him tougher.
His mother made a cake for his fifteenth birthday. But he never saw it. He’d been on a drinking and terror binge for three days with his running buddies already, and wouldn’t come home for two more.
His mom ate a piece of it herself, sitting alone at their small kitchen table, and gently placed the rest into the garbage.
When he was seventeen, Tony stumbled across his father at a strip mall he was casing. His father didn’t recognize Tony, but Tony knew who he was. Even though he hadn’t laid eyes on the man in almost ten years.
He beat his father into a bloody pulp, and probably would have beaten him to death if a patrol car hadn’t happened by and intervened. He was still pounding the unconscious man when three cops pulled him off.
He was threatened with adult jail for the first time for the incident, but Tony had scoffed.
“Ah, he’s my father. He won’t press charges against his own son.”
But he was wrong. His father was only his father through happenstance. To hear the man tell it, “That bitch lied to me and said she was on the pill. If she hadn’t lied, Tony wouldn’t have ever been born.”
That statement, more than any other, explained Tony’s miserable life quite nicely.
And he did indeed press charges, but Tony got the last laugh. While serving a two year sentence for felony assault, Tony met some powerful people.
One of them got out a few months before Tony and arranged for Tony’s father to disappear permanently. In several different pieces, in several different places.
They never found the body, and even if they had, they couldn’t have pinned it on Tony. He was locked up at the time.
Rise From The Ashes: The Rebirth of San Antonio (Countdown to Armageddon Book 3) Page 7