by Bobby Akart
She pushed it behind her back and out of his view. “Is there anyone to lend them comfort? Anyone from the church?”
“Are you volunteering?” he asked. “If so, I’ll get you a candy-striper uniform, but you’ll have to get rid of the gun.”
Isabella closed her eyes slightly and scowled at the man. When she didn’t immediately say anything, he used the silence as an opportunity to be on his way. Isabella walked back into the central hub just as Chapman was finishing up at reception. A scuffle had broken out near the entrance as several people had forced their way past the police officers guarding the entrance to the emergency room. One of the officers used pepper spray on one of the men, causing everyone to begin coughing and wiping their eyes.
Chapman put his arm around her waist and pointed toward the east wing, where they’d spoken with Dr. Rambo earlier. They made their way through several groups of people until they were alone.
“I guess now we just wait.”
Isabella frowned and shook her head. “I am thankful for the ambulance people and the doctor. So many are not receiving help. It is very sad.”
Chapman looked down the corridor at the line of gurneys. Some of the patients could lift their heads to look around; others appeared to be asleep or dead.
Shouting could be heard again near the admitting desk, so Chapman led Isabella deeper down the corridor. “We’re lucky. I hope I’ve made the right decision.”
“You had to, Chapman. Unlike these people who have been left to die alone, your father has a chance.”
Chapman’s face brightened. “You know what? It doesn’t have to be that way. Like you, I am very scientific minded and not religious, really. That said, I do believe in the power of prayer to comfort those who are ill and on their death beds.”
“Oui. I am not a doctor, but I can give them hope and strength.”
Chapman kissed her on the cheek and led her down the hallway. They stopped at the gurneys and spoke with any of the patients who were awake. They listened to their concerns and offered a prayer, which seemed to give them some peace.
They allowed the patients who were asleep to continue resting. Chapman sighed. “The best thing for an illness is rest. However, as morbid as it seems, we should make sure they’re alive.”
Isabella walked ahead as Chapman comforted an older man who was a homeless drunk. The man had served in the Middle East and was never able to get over the trauma of the horrors he’d witnessed. He had lived on the streets of Indianapolis, his hometown, until one day he was transported to a shelter in Fort Wayne. Now he was going through severe alcohol withdrawal.
When he finished up with the veteran, he caught up to Isabella, who was standing over a man wearing camouflage clothing. She turned to Chapman and said, “He is asleep. He smells terrible, like death. But he is alive, just sleeping.”
Chapman approached and suddenly stopped. He shook his head quickly and wiped his eyes. Then he approached the gurney to study the gaunt face of the man who was passed out.
“Levi?” he asked, reaching for his brother’s hand. It was cold, so he rubbed it and squeezed it at the same time. “My god! It’s my brother. Isabella, this is Levi!”
Chapman tried to shake his brother awake.
Isabella immediately became concerned, as Levi didn’t respond to his brother’s touch. She reached across the gurney to press two fingers against his neck. Levi had a pulse, which immediately caused Isabella to smile and turn to Chapman.
“I will be right—” she began until Levi suddenly responded.
His eyes began to flutter and then slowly opened. “Chapman? Are we dead?”
Chapman began laughing uncontrollably. “No, man. We’re not dead, but you smell like ass. Seriously, were you raised by wolves or something?”
Levi managed a smile. “Yeah. I heard an angel. She’s French.”
Chapman and Isabella began to cry as they held each other and then smothered Levi’s hairy cheeks with kisses.
“She’s not an angel,” began Chapman.
“Yes, I am an angel, mon ami. Just not that kind. It is very nice to meet you, Levi.”
Levi began to cough and tried to roll over, but he grimaced in pain. “Damn, I feel like shit all over.”
“We’re gonna try to take care of that,” said Chapman. “Damn, brother, it’s good to see you. Everyone’s been worried.”
Levi held his arm up. “Where am I?”
“A hospital in Fort Wayne,” Chapman replied. “Do you remember anything about how you got here?”
“Nah, but thanks for coming to pick me up.”
Chapman looked to Isabella, who shrugged. Now was not the time to concern his brother with their father’s illness. He wanted to focus on getting him treated.
“No problem. We’re gonna find a quiet place to get you cleaned up and then see what can be done about the pain you’re havin’.”
“Carly?” asked Levi.
“She’s home with Mom and the kids. They’re all fine.”
Levi craned his neck to look around the hallway. “Did Dad come with you? I’ve gotta tell him about—”
Screams filled the hospital as the lights flickered and then went dark. The steady hum of equipment stopped. The fizzle of the fluorescents ended. The sound of the air handlers abruptly halted.
And in an operating room directly above the Boone brothers, their father lay on a stainless-steel table with his gut splayed open and two surgeons holding his bowels in their hands.
In complete darkness.
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Table of Contents
Dedications
Acknowledgements
About the Author, Bobby Akart
Author’s Introduction to the Geostorm Series
Real-World News Excerpts
Epigraph
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
&nb
sp; Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Copyright Information