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“Holy shit!” Judd exclaimed.
Within seconds, the rain blasted at the window and the wind was so strong, the flame on the fire flickered.
“Do you hear that?” Morgan asked, standing.
It’s the storm.” Judd said.
“No.” she shook her head.
THUMP.
“That.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Judd replied. “Probably a tree or something hitting against us.”
Thump.
Ross pointed. “It woke the boy.”
Dawson rubbed his eyes and walked over to Judd.
“What’s the matter, buddy?” Judd asked. “You can’t sleep? The storm wake you?”
“Bill did,” Dawson said groggy.
“What do you mean? A dream?”
Thump.
“Judd,” Morgan called him. “Something is up.”
Again, a loud crack and clap shook the building.
“It’s the storm.” Judd looked down to Dawson. “So you dreamt of Bill?”
“Yes.” Dawson nodded.
Thump. Thump.
Ross slowly stood and peered to the ceiling. “She’s right. It’s not the storm.”
“I’m scared,” Dawson held on to Judd.
“It’s okay.” Judd embraced. “It was just a dream. What did Bill say?”
The thumping grew louder and faster. Judd stood up, releasing his hold on Dawson.
“He said … run.”
Judd’s eyes widened.
Ross pointed. “The staircase.”
“Stay here,” Judd ordered and walked to the corner of the restaurant with Ross and Morgan.
“Judd, no!” Dawson cried.
“Stay over there.” Judd held out his hand.
Dawson listened. He stayed by the fire while Judd, Ross and Morgan stared at the door.
“It’s quiet,” Ross said. “I thought they were in the stairwell.”
“Me, too,” Judd said.
Morgan shook her head. “They are. You can’t hear them with the storm.”
Judd whispered and pointed to the door. “Did we lock this?”
Ross shook his head. “I don’t think we did.”
“Shit,” Judd said. “It locks from the other side.” He slowly reached for the knob.
Morgan stopped him. ‘What are you doing?”
“If they aren’t in the stairwell, I’m locking it.” Again, his hand reached and again he was stopped.
Ross moved him aside. “Let me. Okay?” He pulled his weapon. “Stay back.”
Judd and Morgan stepped back.
Ross extended his hand.
“This is silly,” Judd said. “There’s nothing …”
With a thunderous ‘crash’ the door flew entirely from the hinges, slamming into Ross and sending his gun sliding across the linoleum as he hit the floor.
Tire Man charged out and behind him raced the twelve kids.
Judd’s first thought was Dawson, and as he turned, Tire Man face palmed him so hard it sent him back crashing into a table.
Morgan ran.
She made it only a few feet, when one of the Bus kids dove on her back. She tried to shuck the child, but his arm gripped around her neck, strangling her. Her only defense was the potato peeler and she jammed it in the child’s arm. He released her and she flew over by Dawson.
She arrived in time to intercept another bus kid who came for him. Lifting Dawson into her arms, she pushed the child away with her foot and ran toward the door.
“Judd!” Dawson screamed. “Judd.”
Get Dawson to safety. Get him out. Was all she could think of. The truck was the best option. She opened the front door and quickly realized that wasn’t the answer. A gust of wind acted like a wall she was unable to push through, it sent her back a foot just as a huge piece of debris flew at the door and bounced off. Then in a split second, the wind pulled back, sucking her through. One arm holding Dawson, reaching for the door, Morgan struggled with her footing. Finally her fingers touched the door. She turned her body to close it when a bus kid leapt at her.
She was fast, darting out of the way, the bus kid sailed through the archway and she slammed the door.
She was far from being safe inside the restaurant. It was mayhem and Morgan was so focused on getting Dawson to safety, she tried not to see all that was going on. Dawson was heavy, and it took a lot to hold on to him, especially when he fought and screamed for Judd.
In her mad dash across the dining room floor of the restaurant, she spotted Sister Helena. One bus kid was on her back, while another flailed her fists relentlessly at her.
In her run by Sister Helena, Morgan grabbed hold of the hair of the fist-throwing little brat, yanked her back to the floor and grabbed Sister Helena’s hand, pulling her with her.
In the kitchen, she raced to the walk in freezer, opened it and put Dawson in side. “Stay here. You’ll be safe.”
She pushed the door closed and turned to help Sister Helena.
The nun was on the floor with the boy on her back. Morgan grabbed the first thing she could, a small pot, and she hit the child with it. When he paused, she used her foot to kick him from Sister Helena, grabbed her hand, dragged her to her feet and pushed her into the freezer.
“Stay with Dawson!” Morgan yelled. “The door opens from inside. Do not open until you hear silence.”
She didn’t stay long, the last vision of them was Dawson running to the door and Sister Helena reaching for him. She slammed the door shut.
They were safe.
Of that she was sure.
No sooner did she turn around, then bus kid ran at her. Morgan charged back, grabbing him in her momentum and carrying him through the swinging kitchen door.
Father Basko.
Ross didn’t understand, maybe it was an advantage, but when he stood from being knocked down, the rabid children never attacked him. They were too busy pursuing Sister Helena and even more so, Father Basko. Seven of them pounced the priest. While Judd engaged in a cat and mouse game with Tire Man. Only Judd was the mouse.
Ross didn’t know where to go first, who to help.
He picked his battle and aimed for Father Basko.
The attacking bus kids were like pit bulls. They pounced, grabbed, pulled and kicked, and each one he tossed off, merely jumped back and returned.
He was so focused on getting the kids off Father Basko, he didn’t realize it was too late.
His feet slipped and he slid in a pool of blood that came from the priest. Ross didn’t want to look, he didn’t want to see what they had done. In the midst of his battle, he saw it. The fire extinguisher hanging by the stairwell. He ran to it, grabbed it and raced back over to those kids attacking Father Basko.
He blasted it and the white substance stunned them. They paused in their attack, rubbed their faces and moved in confused circles.
After dropping the extinguisher, Ross grabbed two of them. He was strong enough to carry them both and he took them to the stairwell, tossed them hard inside, and ran back for two more before the ones in the stairwell could catch their bearings.
He put them in and reached down for the door. Just as he grabbed it, he saw Morgan.
“Here. In here.” Ross yelled.
She raced over with the kid, and using the weight of her body, along with her arms, she flung the boy inside with the others. Ross slammed the door against the jam. It didn’t take long for the door to move from the weight of the kids trying to get out.
“Think you can hold this?” Ross asked.
“I will,” Morgan replied. She pressed her back against the door and locked her legs.
Ross stepped away. He looked for Judd. He was behind the bar, sailing bottles at Tire Man. It distracted Ross enough that he didn’t see the little girl coming, she jumped up at him, fingers digging into his neck.
Holding her to him, bracing her by the scruff of her neck, Ross raged for the front door of the bar, grabbing another child in his run.
He shut and locked the door.
It was less chaotic and Ross lost count of how many kids from the bus there were.
It was under control, at least with the kids. There were three standing calmly in the middle of the restaurant, staring out. One of them had a potato peeler in his arm.
After catching his breath, Ross grabbed a chair, carried it over to the bar. “Enough of this shit.” He lifted it high and smashed Tire Man over the head.
He toppled to the ground. Ross hit him again just to be sure he was down.
Judd stood up.
“You okay?” Ross asked.
“I couldn’t get by him,” Judd said. “He was kicking my ass.”
“Join the club.”
“Dawson?” Judd asked in a panic.
“He’s fine,” Morgan answered. “He’s in the freezer with Sister Helena. Can you guys …” her body bounced. “Help?”
Ross walked over to the fireplace and grabbed the tool box. He lifted a couple chair legs and carried them to the stairwell. “Sorry.” He said to Morgan. “Just hold it another minute.” He grabbed a hammer and nails, placed the nails in his mouth, then lifted a leg to the arch and began securing the door.
“How many are in there?” Judd asked.
“Five,” Ross answered as he hammered. “I tossed two out.”
“Three,” Morgan corrected. “I threw one out as well.” She stepped away from the door, turned and held it with her hands for Ross.
“One is missing” Judd said.
“We’ll find it.” Morgan secured the next leg to the door. He only needed a couple nails, enough for a temporary fix.
“Oh my God, Father Basko,” Judd said.
“I know.” Ross paused in his hammering, looking over his shoulder. Judd was standing by Father Basko’s body, or rather what remained of it. He paused then finished the final nail. “We’ll take care of …” he turned around and caught his breath. “take care of …” His eyes widened.
“What?” Morgan asked, then turned around.
Tire Man was standing, dead eye stare locked on Judd and he held Ross’ gun haphazardly in his hand.
“Judd!” Morgan screamed, “Watch out.”
Judd spun around.
Ross saw Judd dart out of the way, and Ross ran, hammer in hand, toward Tire Man.
The gun went off, a split second before Ross, two hands on the handle of the hammer, like a baseball player, swung upwards with everything he had, landing the hammer claw end first in the base of Tire Man’s skull. Tire Man teetered and the gun dropped from his hand. Quickly, Ross swept up the gun, shifted his body and fired once at Tire Man, hitting him in the side of the neck and taking him down once and for all.
Ross’ heart raced out of control. He bent over, hands to his legs to catch his breath. It was close. Especially when he saw Tire Man with the gun. He was confident, especially with the way Tire Man held the gun, that everything was okay.
He knew he was wrong when he heard the sound of Morgan’s voice like he never heard it before.
Soft, sad and whimpering, “Ross.”
He held his eyes closed tight for a moment and slowly lifted his head and looked.
Morgan knelt on the floor. Blood flowed over her fingers as she tried with diligence to stop the bleeding with her bare hands.
Judd had been shot.
THIRTY-FIVE – RATTLED
“Get me this, get me that, find me this, find me that.” Ross was a plethora of orders and Morgan followed them as fast and best as she could.
Each item, he asked for, she found. Either he had it, or Sister Helena did in her bag.
He was on the floor working diligently on Judd. There wasn’t time to worry about the remaining kids, they could only hope they remained calm while he tried to stabilize Judd.
“Just make sure you keep the Sister and Dawson away. At least until I’m done,” Ross said. “We don’t need either of them seeing this.”
“Should I tell them something?”
Ross looked at her, his eyes cased her bloody shirt. “Not until you change.”
Morgan understood.
“Hey,” Judd said groggily. “What’s all the fuss about?”
“He’s awake,” Ross said. “Hand me the whiskey.”
“It’s a good sign, right?” Morgan asked.
Ross didn’t reply to her, he took the bottle and lifted Judd’s head. “I need you to take a big drink. I mean huge, okay.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been shot, Pal.”
It was long and dragged out as Judd said the word in surprise. “What? No way.”
“Yeah, way.”
“It can’t be bad.”
Ross tilted his head. “It’s bad.”
“But you’re a cop and if you’re fixing me then I’m good. It can’t be that bad.”
“You don’t have a choice,” Ross said. “Plus, you’re in luck. I was a medic in the reserves.”
“Sweet. So how bad is bad?”
“Bad. You lost a shit load of blood.”
“Eh, I’ll get it back.”
Ross exhaled in frustration. “I need you to be quiet and still. Morgan, keep the light close.”
“Ah, you two are talking again,” Judd said.
“Judd, please. Morgan, the vodka.”
“I just had whiskey.”
“It’s not for drinking.” Ross took the uncapped bottle from Morgan. “This is going to hurt.” He poured it over the wound left of his naval.
“Ow.”
Ross smiled. “That was simple. I think I see it. You need to hold still, I think I can get it. Hold the light closer Morgan.”
Judd grunted an “Uh!” loudly.
Ross looked at him. “I didn’t touch you.”
“You’re gonna reach in me with your fingers?” Judd asked, “That’s how President Harrison died.”
“What?”
“They reached in with their fingers and he got an infection and died.”
“Well, there was a bag with rubber gloves and antibiotics,” Ross said.
“Hey, that was me. I got them.” Judd replied.
“Good for you and by the way, it was Garfield, not Harrison.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Now hold still,” Ross instructed and reached into the wound.
The screams carried to them, even through the insulated metal door of the freezer. A long cry out, then another, and then silence.
Dawson scurried to the door and Sister Helena held him back.
“That was Judd,” Dawson cried out. “I know it was. He’s hurt. Judd doesn’t scream.”
“You can’t leave here.”
“Let me go help Judd.”
“Dawson!” Sister Helena scolded. “No. More than anything Judd wants you safe. Honor him, stay put.”
Dawson nodded sadly, then placed his arms around Sister Helena’s waist. When he did he saw the blood and stepped back. “You’re hurt.” He looked at her arms, deep gashes ran up and down them.
“I’ll be fine.” She brought him back into the fold of her embrace. “So will Judd.”
Judd had passed out. He cried out in pain a few times and then his head dropped to the side and he was out. Even though Ross was happy that he was talking, he needed him still and silent.
He was able to pull the shell from his gut but Ross hadn’t a clue how much damage was done. He did his best to seal the wound using everything from a needle and thread to duct tape. After he had finished, they carried him to a sleeping bag near the fire.
“What do you think?” Morgan asked.
Ross shook his head. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. He lost a lot of blood.”
“He said we’re close to Branson. Can we go?”
“You mean like now?” Ross asked.
Morgan nodded. “Yeah, what if w
e go right now? We’ll be there by morning.”
“You hear that out there?” Ross shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“We have to try. They may have a doctor there.”
“I know. Let’s hit the radio again. He has extra batteries. We can keep trying. Once the storm breaks, we’ll head out even if it’s not light.”
“It’s not going to break, Ross. You know that.”
Ross closed his eyes,
“What about them?” Morgan nodded her head at the three children. “We can’t trust them around him.”
“Once we get Dawson and Sister Helena from the freezer, we’ll put them in there.” Ross then groaned. “Oh man, Dawson. He is not going to handle this well. We’re going to …” Slowly, Ross lifted his eyes upward. “Oh. No.” He stood.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked.
Ross heard it, didn’t she?
“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked.
“Do you hear that?”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly.” Ross raced to the door.
“It’s over, we can go. It stopped.”
Ross knew better, he opened the door. The air was still and not a single rain drop fell.
“Let’s get everybody,” Morgan joined him. “We’ll carry him out.”
“No.” Focused Ross stepped out and on to the porch,
“Where are the kids we threw out?”
Ross didn’t answer that question. The night was suddenly quiet. It was filled with an eerie silence and a greenish hue as if the moon was shining through a color gel.
He stepped down the stairs and to the lot, the moment he did he felt the first ‘pat’ to this head, then suddenly it fell around him. He held out his hand to catch the hail that was the size of peanuts. He shifted his eyes around when the pressure filled his ears, then heard the roar. Almost like a freight train in the distance,
He spun back to Morgan. “Get inside.”
“What’s going on.”
Where was it? He looked around. Where? The sky was dark until it lit up with six or seven bolts of lightning that speared through the sky continuously, brightening it.
That was when he saw the first funnel in the distance straight ahead of him, it was huge, as he turned to run back in the house, he saw the second one, it filled the entire sky.