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Faulted

Page 17

by Jacqueline Druga


  In fact, everything was blocked off. It appeared to be they were building something. A fence perhaps or wall? It was still in the early stages and CJ couldn’t tell.

  Both side of the highway were closed with a horizontally parked vehicles just before the turn for the rest area.

  He could see the people on the other side of the highway, they faced west in case someone tried to take that way.

  There was a sheriff’s car ahead of CJ. Three men and a woman, all holding weapons stood on the road wearing bandanas over their mouths like some sort of bandits.

  “What the hell is this?” Guy asked, then pulled out the map. “They’re blocked the way through.”

  “Maybe they’re just checking vehicles as pass into town,” CJ said.

  “Maybe.”

  “I’ll pull a little closer.”

  “Listen,” Abby said. “Show your hands right away. If they won’t let you through, barter. Find their sweet spot. Everyone has a price.

  Guy looked at her. “I’m gonna take it this advice isn’t from some psychology class you took.”

  “No. No, I was preparing for a role. I was playing a waitress in a siege and I researched.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Guy said. “CJ just inch up.”

  CJ did. He parked about fifty feet from the barricade. He informed the others he’d be back and he and Guy stepped out at the same time.

  “Hold it right there,” the officer said.

  CJ raised his hands. “We aren’t armed.” He turned around slowly. “See? We aren’t armed.”

  “Well, that’s all kinds of stupid considering what’s happening,” the officer said.

  “Can we come closer so we don’t have to shout?” CJ asked.

  “You can come closer, you’re not getting through.”

  After looking at Guy, CJ walked toward the barricade and when he approached he introduced himself. “My name is Carter James, CJ, this is my father, Guy.”

  Guy nodded.

  CJ eyed the officer’s badge. “Listen, Deputy Graham, are you in charge?”

  “I’m one of a few in charge. Town’s closed son. There’s no need to speak to anyone in charge. You can’t get through.”

  “We need to get through,” CJ said. “Please. We just need to pass through. We’re trying to get to Las Cruces.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Graham said calmly and oddly polite. “Like a lot of others before you. I’m going to tell you the same thing I told them. You cannot pass through our town.”

  “Why?” Guy asked.

  “People are desperate. They lost everything.”

  “So why not help them?” Guy questioned.

  “We can’t. Our resources are limited. What we have is what we have. There are no delivery trucks coming. No aid. I have to take care of my own, I am sure you understand that.”

  “I do,” CJ said. “We need to get to Las Cruces.”

  “And you still can. Just back track fifteen miles, go south on Three-thirty eight until you get to Animas. Head East on Muir then north on One Thirteen. You’ll pass through two small areas that aren’t going to mind if you pause there. We do. This is only gonna add about an hour or so to your trip.”

  CJ nodded. “Do they ... do you know if any of them have a doctor.”

  Graham seemed to find that amusing, he sort of chuckled. “No.” he shook his head. “No they don’t. Las Cruces does.”

  “Do you?” Guy asked.

  Graham didn’t answer, he looked at Guy with almost a pause.

  “You do,” Guy said.

  “Sir, please,” CJ pleaded. “Please we have a woman. She was injured. She needs help. She desperately needs help. Maybe your doctor …”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “No.”

  “Then please let us through. You can escort us through. She’s already fighting for her life, please don’t make her fight another hour.”

  Graham shook his head. “Sorry. Just go the other way.”

  “What if we barter?” CJ asked. “You said you’re on limited resources, right? We don’t have much food or supplies, I’ll be honest there. But we have that.” He pointed to the truck. “It’s an eight thousand gallon tank and it’s almost full. You can check. Check the gauge. You let our woman see your doctor and it’s yours. All of it. Take it. If you don’t use it you can barter it later. You can’t beat that.”

  “I can help with whatever you’re building over there,” Guy said. “That’s what I did. Plus … I have pot.”

  “Dad!” CJ scolded.

  “Abby said, find a sweet spot. I’m finding a sweet spot”

  “To a cop?” CJ asked.

  Graham looked at Guy. “You really have pot?”

  “Yep.”

  “Dad,” CJ warned.

  “How much?”

  “Lots.”

  “Dad.”

  “How do you have lots?” Graham asked.

  “We were stranded at the San Bernardino Airport. TSA must have made some sort of bust, plus other stuff they had in a locker. Hit the freaking marijuana jackpot. Vapes, oils …”

  “Do you have the actual plant, dry form, seeds?”

  “Yeah, some.”

  CJ shifted his eyes from the cop to his dad. Watching them bounce back and forth, question and answer, wondering when the officer was going to slap the cuffs on his father.

  Graham nodded. “Okay, bring her in. Doc is located just a few blocks in.”

  “Wait. What? Seriously?” CJ asked. “You’ll let your doctor see her.”

  “Yep. We’ll move the Ford for you.”

  “Wow. I offered you fuel and you let us in for pot?”

  “Sweet spot,” Guy whispered. “Don’t push it.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Graham said. “We’re taking your fuel, too. But we need that pot. We have a couple sick people in this town. My wife is one of them. She has MS. I’m thinking ahead.” The officer backed up, and hand signaled his people.

  CJ was still in disbelief of how it all went down, but it didn’t matter. He was happy and relieved. They were going through, and Mindy was going to get the help she needed.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Charles and the convoy arrived in Midland Texas just before nightfall. It was a moonless sky, blackened with dark clouds, but Charles knew the second they pulled into the city limits that there was a glimmer of hope.

  They still had power.

  Or at least had it up and running again.

  They followed the hand painted signs to the relief area. It was an ambitious endeavor. Although it was partially erected, Charles could see they still had a long way to go and crews were working diligently.

  It was set up in the Westridge Park neighborhood of Midland. Specifically in the eight square mile section that where the baseball field, football stadium, sports complex and all surrounded parking areas.

  It was going to be huge.

  The moment he arrived he was greeted and escorted to what he learned was the headquarters tent. There were tables inside a few cots and a canteen of coffee. He had just helped himself to a cup when the Governor walked in.

  “Charles,” Governor Brad Wallerman extended his hand. “Good to see you.”

  “Brad.” Charles shook his head and gave him an embrace. “You made it out.”

  “I wasn’t in town when it hit.” Brad pursed his lips. “Unfortunately my family was there.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  “Me, too. This keeps me busy. I’m focusing. That’s all I can do.”

  “This is quite impressive. How did you do all this so fast?”

  “Well, the shit hit the fan so to speak, I had to make choice,” Brad said. “I could use all of our resources for search and rescue or I could divide it. Looking at the circumstances I had to focus on those who survived. This is one of three in the states. We pulled all of our FEMA resources, then we hit and seized the public places. Unfortunately, if need be we will hit the private sectors. Anti-hoarding laws are in effect.”
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  “How many people are here?” Charles asked.

  “Close to nine thousand. We have even started the registry yet. We’ve taken names of about half. It’s overwhelming and more are coming in.”

  “Communications?”

  “Sparse. We do our best. Most of this is word of mouth, trucks with bullhorns and what was playing on radios from the feds. Unfortunately, the Emergency Alert system cut out about four hours ago. It’s been silent.”

  “I know you were in contacts with our team when I was north,” Charles said. “Anything?”

  “Not for a while. Do you think everything is alright up there?”

  “I hope.”

  Brad exhaled. “To be honest, I can’t concern myself with that. I have to focus on what I can do as a central hub here. That’s my goal. Make this a central hub and headquarters. I can’t sit and wait, for things to show up. If I do that … I could be making a grave mistake. So I am not operating on the notion that we, like every other state, is on our own.”

  Charles heard him and understood. He was there now and ready to do whatever Brad needed, but unlike Brad he wasn’t ready to give up on the president. Not yet.

  Thigs were underway, an effort to save people. How long that would last, he didn’t know. Even though the alert message stopped playing, the word had gotten out. Thousands had arrived and Charles had no reason to believe thousands more would soon follow.

  At least he hoped so.

  <><><><>

  Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado

  “Charles, come in. Are you there?” Parker made the radio call again. “Come in.”

  Nothing.

  He had hit the radio every hour on the hour and had no luck. No call saying they had to stop for the night. No word.

  Parker had to believe they made it.

  “How about on your end?” he asked Colonel Rush.

  “Sir, we have nothing. We have lost our final line out. No communications.”

  “How about outside the United States?”

  “We’re down.”

  “How is that possible? I mean hours ago we were up and running.”

  “The ash hasn’t stopped falling,” Rush said. “It’s still coming down, the volcano is still erupting. The problem is, it will keep erupting. The more it does so, the more ash that comes down on us. The last crew out there reported storms that seemed like something from a sci fi movie. Geographically we are not in a good position and this bunker wasn’t designed with a massive volcanic eruption in mind.”

  “Could we be buried or struck in here.”

  “No, there are many ways out of this bunker. Getting out of here is not the problem, leaving the area is a whole different story.”

  Parker was a man on very little sleep and with a lot on his mind. He had been in the communications room for hours and needed a break. He decided to take a walk and that walk led him to the southwest slop entrance.

  There were soldiers and other personnel in that tunnel, and looked like they had made a home there. Tents and tables set up, cots and sleeping bags.

  He immediately felt a difference in that tunnel. The temperature was colder, there was a slight smell of sulfur and it was loud. He could hear incredibly strong thunder clashes that sent a vibration through him.

  That was when he noticed the blast door was open.

  He wanted to ask about it, but he didn’t. He kept walking to the door. No one camped by it and only a small amount of ash had blown in. That made sense considering beyond the blast doors were another quarter mile of tunnel until the outside.

  As he walked by, people only looked at him. He felt the sense that at some point he stopped being the president.

  Really, he wasn’t anymore. He was useless. At least he felt that way. He imagined presidents before him would feel similar under the same circumstance. Except maybe Ronald Reagan. Parker always imagined that Reagan had a slight infatuation with the end of the world. If the meteors came during his administration, Reagan would be calm. “Well, Nancy, we’re headed to the bunker.”

  But then, Reagan would have left to govern where he was needed … outside. He wouldn’t send his right hand man.

  What president would?

  It was ironic, that as he slipped through the blast doors he walked into a dark tunnel lit only by dim emergency lights. He was a metaphor in his journey … a man walking down a dark path.

  The hollowness of the tunnel amplified the storm. It beat against his ears. He could feel the ash under his feet, it caused his shoes to slide like the stuff on the dance floor.

  He followed the bright light at the end of the tunnel, the exterior spotlights were on. They flickered, but it wasn’t from lack of power, it was from the ash and rain falling in front of them.

  Each step down that tunnel was different. It went from dry to a wet slippery. The rain caused a mist against him. Just as he neared the end, he noticed a sluggish feeling in his walk. He looked down, it was hard to see and he grabbed the small flashlight from his back pocket. His shoes were emerged in a black, thick substance.

  He trudged on, only a few more steps and stopped a few feet shy of the opening when he felt the liquid reach his ankles. It moved in a slow flowing manner from the entrance.

  It was like tar, thick and black. He swiped his hand down his face, then shone the light on his palm. It was black. Raising his head, he took a closer look at the exterior spotlights. It wasn’t just rain falling, it was the same thick black stuff.

  Ash had mixed with water creating like a mud and the stuff rained down from the sky.

  Parker realized if it looked like that in the tunnel, he didn’t want to think about what it looked like outside.

  It was done.

  As long as the volcano kept erupting, the landscape around the mountain would evolve.

  He and the others in the bunker weren’t going nowhere. At least for a while. If they could go anywhere at all.

  <><><><>

  When CJ heard it was a town doctor, he envisioned some man, well past his prime and set in his doctoring ways. He didn’t expect Doctor Michael Leopold, a physician in his late thirties with boatloads of energy and compassion. When they brought Mindy to him, he didn’t exude gloom and doom.

  “Let’s have a look at you,” he said kindly to her.

  “We appreciate this,” CJ said.

  “Not a problem. If you’ll have a seat, I’ll be right with you when I’m done examining her.”

  “Thank you.”

  The doctor’s office looked like it was a hardware store or something at one time. It saw on the corner, large widows. A few minutes after they all sat in the waiting room, a young woman in scrubs walked in. She nodded and headed to the back examining room where Mindy was. She came back out and collected CJ, doctor’s orders.

  “Doctor Mike said you have a nasty wound infection,” she said to him. She had to be in her early twenties, probably fresh out of school. Even her scrubs were newer.

  “I do?”

  “Yep, you do, gonna clean that up and get you some antibiotics.”

  “Thank you. How’s Mindy?”

  “Doctor Mike is tending to her.”

  After he was finished he went back out in the waiting room. Ruben looked beside himself, genuinely concerned. It was more than an employee to an employer.

  “I think he’s in love with her,” CJ whispered to his father.

  “What? Who are you talking about?”

  CJ nodded at Ruben.

  “Don’t be absurd. It’s a parental thing. What does it matter anyhow?”

  He was about to say, ‘it doesn’t’, when Doctor Mike walked in the waiting room.

  They all stood. Except for Carter who was fast asleep.

  Doctor Mike looked at the faces. “It’s not good.”

  Abby said, “She ruptured her spleen didn’t she?”

  Guy looked at her.

  “Yes, she did,” Doctor Mike replied. “I did an ultrasound, that was all I had to do. It’s bad. To be h
onest with you, I don’t know how she is alive. Her entire abdomen is filled with blood, it’s pressing on her internal organs. Her heart and lungs are barely functioning and, I spotted clots.”

  “Can you operate?” Guy asked.

  Doctor Mike shook his head. “I can’t. I mean … if she were stronger, I’d give it a try. Opening her means putting her under and she won’t know her final moments. That, sadly, is where she is.”

  CJ saw it. Ruben stumbled back some in shock. Guy lowered his head.

  “I’ve given her some morphine to make her comfortable. Like I said, I don’t know how she made it this long. She should have passed away from this within twelve hours of the injury. She told me there was no medical help then.”

  “And she kept walking.” CJ said.

  “She knew,” Doctor Mike said. “And she knows now. I was honest with her. You can go back and see her if you want. I know she’d like that.”

  CJ nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I really am. I wish I could tell you something better,” Doctor Mike said.

  A part of CJ knew he wasn’t going to get good news. Mindy increasingly went downhill, her face grew paler. He was hoping for a miracle but was realistic in knowing there were none.

  Guy didn’t spend time with her, and Abby didn’t know her, so they stayed back while CJ and Ruben made their way to Mindy.

  She was wearing oxygen tubing, her face was clean and hair pulled back from her face. Doctor Mike’s assistant had cleaned her up. When he really looked at her laying on that table, the back propped, he saw how swollen she really was. His heart sunk.

  “Hey,” CJ said as he walked closer.

  “Hey,” she replied

  “I know it’s stupid to ask, how are you?”

  “I’m good. Well, not good. But emotionally, I’m okay with this. It’s you two that have to stay back in this world.”

  “Mindy.” CJ lowered his head. “I am sorry this is happening to you. I wish with all my heart you didn’t have to go through this.”

  “But I do. I do. And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking me on this journey. I need to tell you something,” she said weakly. “I never told anyone. Come closer, Ruben, so you can hear.” She waited until they were close. “I lied.”

 

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