A few minutes later, the other air horn started blaring and the noise was almost unbearable. I thought I heard someone screaming. First it sounded like a man’s voice; then I thought it was a woman’s. The dogs were barking wildly again, and I thought my head was going to explode.
Mom and Papa had started firing their guns out the back windows. I couldn’t see any more intruders in the front yard, and Alex shouted at me to help Mom and Papa in back. I ran to the dining room on the southeast side of the house and opened the window. A few men were crouching in the bushes along the driveway and I shot at them, wounding at least two. They yelped and all of them started running toward the highway. Gram or Granny threw another grenade, this time out my window facing the backyard and I heard another scream over the blare of the air horns, which were beginning to wane in volume.
Papa shouted, “They’re on the run now! Let’s chase ‘em off!” I don’t remember ever hearing Papa so excited.
I went back to the living room and Alex and I went out on the front porch, while Mom and Papa went out the back door. I knew we were getting low on ammunition, so I saved my bullets, shouting at them instead, using words that I would never be allowed to use under normal circumstances. I figured I’d apologize to Mom and the grandmas later.
The intruders were running north, in the opposite direction from the Thomas’s’. I heard the sound of hooves coming from the south and soon saw Dad and Calvin galloping over the hill toward the fleeing men. Alex and I ran to the barn to look for our horses and found them cowering in a stall. We coaxed them out, jumped on them, and joined Dad and Calvin in the chase.
We slowed our mounts to a trot when we got near the men; we wanted to run them off, not confront them. From behind, I counted thirty-two of them. I couldn’t believe so many people would band together like that to cause mayhem. I guess, like the Guardsman had said, desperate times called for desperate measures.
After we had run them several miles up the highway, some scattering off into the woods as we went, the remaining two dozen or so were exhausted and dropping like flies. We didn’t know what to do with them then. None of us had ever dreamed of that many marauders showing up at our farm, and we didn’t have a plan for what to do with them once we fought them off. We slowed the horses to a stop and just stood there looking at them.
One of the guys turned around and started running straight at Dad’s horse, screaming like a banshee and with a look of crazed fierceness in his eyes. Dad yelled for him to stop, but nothing fazed him; he just kept coming, an axe raised over his head.
Dad had no choice but to shoot him. I could tell Dad didn’t want to do it. Hell, none of us did, but like I said, he had no choice.
After that, the remaining men just sat or lay down in the road in surrender. Some were injured with gunshot or shrapnel wounds, some with burns from the grenades. We backed our horses up until we were about forty yards away from them so we could talk about what to do next. I mean, we didn’t want to just let these guys go to start terrorizing our neighbors. We couldn’t very well run them all to town, either. Our jail only has two cells and, even if you stuffed three or four of them in each cell, that didn’t even come close to holding them all.
Alex half-jokingly suggested we should just shoot them all, but none of us really wanted to gun down now-defenseless men.
We were sitting there on the horses, letting them rest and discussing what to do, when over the hill came several of our neighbors on horseback, led by Rick Thomas. Rick told us that they had come to help, and the other men left their horses by us, walking to the bad guys and tying their hands before tying all of them together like a chain gang. Again, it looked just like a scene out of an old Western until Donald Banks and his son David, who was a year ahead of me in school, rode up in their wagon made from the bed, axles, and wheels of an old pickup truck and pulled by two horses. That was just a little too surreal for me, and I had to blink twice to bring my brain back to modern times.
In the back of the pickup-wagon sat five wounded men, the worst of them with bandages covering their wounds, and down the middle of the pickup bed lay one dead guy, half covered up. I had seen dead people before, at funerals and such, but never one that I may have killed; I had to look away and pretend everything was cool.
I was kind of relieved when Donald said, “You guys better get back home and tend to your family. Alex, your mom told me to tell you to get back right away ‘cause your wife needs you.”
Alex took one look at Dad and kicked his horse into a gallop toward home. Dad nodded at Donald and said, “Thanks, we’ll do that.”
First though, he asked Rick what they planned to do with the bad guys. Rick said that they had decided to tie them up and take them into town, where the county sheriff could hold them while Doug Arnold called the highway patrol or the National Guard over his short-wave radio. He figured they would have to be kept in the school or something until someone came for them.
Dad then told them all goodbye and thanks, and signaled for Calvin and me to follow him. I took one last look at the sorry gang of would-be zombies and kicked my horse into a trot. Suddenly, the adrenaline that had floated me along through this adventure left my system, and I was exhausted. I slumped over my saddle horn and daydreamed of my bed back home all the way there.
Chapter 21
When we got to our house, I didn’t even have to tell my horse to head to the barn. Tired as we all were, we first had to unsaddle and rub down the horses, give them some hay and put them in their stalls to cool down. Calvin and I took care of Alex’s horse too, as he was understandably in a hurry to see Robin.
By the time we made it into the house roughly fifteen minutes later, Mom and my grandmas had already bandaged Papa’s head, duct-taped pieces of cardboard over the broken windows, and cleaned up all the glass. Dad wanted Calvin and me to go with him to check the farm for damage, so my hopes for reuniting with my pillow were crushed.
When asked how Robin was, Mom answered, “Not too good. She may be in labor.” She shook her head and added, “It looks like it’s going to be a hard one.”
“Anything we can do to help?” Dad asked.
“Just go do your thing and I’ll call you if we need anything,” she told him.
We went out and walked all over the property, checking every detail. It looked just like you’d imagine a battlefield, with burned places here and there, splatters of blood in the grass or on the gravel of the driveway, pieces of bloody clothing, an occasional weapon dropped in haste or thrown at the house, trampled grass and broken tree branches. But the only real damage, besides the broken windows and some damage to the siding of the house, was a part of the paddock fence wire that was down, apparently cut in an attempt to get at our horses.
Luckily, the mule and/or the donkey scared them off, and the horses and cows were too spooked to try to escape the paddock later. It took only a few minutes to fix the fence, and Dad said we could clean up the rest the next day. It looked like my pillow and I were going to be reunited at last.
As soon as we got to the porch, however, I could tell that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. We could hear Robin’s moans and stifled screams even through the closed windows and doors of the house. I suddenly remembered hearing a woman’s scream during the battle earlier and wondered if it had been Robin.
The sound bothered all of us. We knew Robin was no crybaby. Beside Mom, she’s the toughest girl I know. Hearing her in pain like that almost made me want to cry, and I think it must have affected Dad and Calvin the same way, because we all felt that cleaning up the yard was suddenly the best idea in the world.
By now it was well past lunchtime and I began to feel hungry, but I didn’t want to go in and bother anyone in the house. Gram and Granny soon called us to the back porch and brought us sandwiches and hot coffee. Granny told me after we’d eaten that Robin had been asking for me. I thought I should be flattered that she would want me, out of our whole family, at her side but honestly, it just gave me butt
erflies. I went in anyway and crept up to her room, hearing her weak moans all the way. I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her.
The poor girl lay flat on her back on the bed with her belly sticking up so high in the middle that it hid her face when I first walked in. Her face was pale and covered in sweat, her eyes dull and filled with pain. Still, she managed a little smile at me and whispered for me to sit by Alex, who was kneeling beside her head, holding her hand, stroking her hair, and occasionally wiping her face with a damp cloth. He looked almost as bad as she did. There were tears in his eyes and I could tell he would have given anything to trade places with her.
She reached over with her other hand and grabbed mine. Her hand felt hot and cold and clammy at the same time. Between gasps and moans, she was able to say to me, “Don’t be scared, Bracken. It’ll be alright.”
Imagine that: her lying there, looking like she was at death’s door, and reassuring me. Like I said before, you just can’t help but love Robin. At that moment I was willing to take the pain for her just like Alex.
She spoke again, “When Skylar comes, tell her not to be afraid either, okay?”
I don’t know where she got the idea that Skylar would be coming. She wasn’t due for another couple of days. But, sure enough, she showed up later that afternoon, riding double on Rick Thomas’ horse on his way back from town. I guess it must have been women’s intuition that told Robin Skylar would come; maybe it was some kind of unwritten rule between women that they helped each other at a time like this. In any case, there she was. Rick also told Mom that someone had ridden over to the next town to get the doctor and would bring him over as soon as he could.
Mom had given Robin some strong passionflower tea, which had helped her with the pain, and she was able to sleep a little between contractions. She was asleep when Skylar arrived, so Skylar sat on the back porch and talked to me for a while. She kept hugging me close and saying she couldn’t believe I’d been in a battle that morning.
She also said something that made me very happy. She said she never wanted to leave me again, and that gave me an idea for a Christmas present for her.
Robin woke up then and called for Skylar, and I didn’t see her again until the sun set that evening, when she came down to get something to eat. Mom was up with Robin, whose moans were getting even louder. Sometimes she would start to scream, and then it would be cut off abruptly like someone had kicked her in the stomach and knocked the air out of her. Mom told me earlier that the contractions were doing just that—knocking the air right out of her. Granny and Gram made us all a nice dinner, even though we found it hard to even taste it, knowing what Robin was going through.
After we ate, Skylar and I went out on the back porch again. The weather was unusually warm and it was a nice break to sit out there, even if we could still hear Robin’s cries. We decided to take a walk out to see the horses and, as we walked, we talked about having kids. Frankly, neither of us was too excited to have any at that point, seeing how hard it was on Robin.
We noticed the eerie glow of an Aurora Borealis gaining strength in the northern sky while we watched the horses, and we wondered if there had been another CME to cause it. Not that it mattered anymore. There were no more power grids to take down, at least not in our part of the country. The only thing we had to worry about now, according to the National Guardsmen that had visited us in the spring, was increased radiation in the atmosphere, but that didn’t feel like much of a risk after what we’d been through today. It was just an intangible, colorless, odorless “thing” in the air.
As we were walking back to the house, hand in hand, we heard Robin let out a blood-curdling scream. We looked at each other, and then started running. When we burst into the house, Alex was hollering down the stairs, “The baby’s coming! Hurry!”
Skylar ran directly up the stairs, but I stayed in the living room. I’d always thought it was just an urban legend that you needed to boil water for a birth, but Granny took a kettle of boiling water and poured it into a tub and set it aside to cool. When I asked her what it was for, she said that it was to wash the baby off after it came out. Gram piled my arms up with fluffy towels and sheets and told me to take them upstairs. I didn’t want to go up there with all the blood and who knew what else, but she shooed me off toward the stairs and I didn’t really have a choice.
When I got to the room, Mom said, “Good, Bracken, we need your help.”
I almost fainted when I saw blood on the floor under Robin’s legs. Robin was half-standing, with Alex on one side of her, holding her up, and Skylar on the other side. Robin had her nightgown pulled up over her huge belly but, thankfully, the way she was leaning over made it so I couldn’t see the baby or anything. I could tell that Skylar wasn’t quite strong enough to support Robin, so I took her place after laying the towels on a chair near Mom. Mom was kneeling on the floor in front of Robin, and Skylar knelt down beside her. Mom grabbed a towel and laid it in on the floor under Robin, and then another one, which she draped over her arms.
“I see the head!” Mom said excitedly. “Keep pushing, honey, you’re doing great.”
“Where’s the gawdamned doctor?” Alex yelled and Mom gave him a withering look.
“This baby’s not going to wait for the doctor, Alex,” she murmured. “Robin’s doing just fine without him. Okay, honey, now push again.”
Another contraction hit Robin like a bull kicking her in the stomach. I wondered if she thought about her dad then, and if she could identify now with the pain her dad must have felt before he died. As the pain died down, Robin’s body sagged between Alex and me and I thought she might have passed out, but another contraction hit within a few seconds, and she straightened up and started pushing again.
I don’t know how she could stand it. The contractions were so strong and she could barely catch her breath between each of them, let alone make any noise. The moaning and screaming from before was gone now, replaced with a cycle of bearing down, then almost passing out breathlessly. This went on for a long time; it felt like hours.
At one point, my arms were aching so badly that it was all I could do to keep from dropping her. That was when Dad came to relieve me. He first tried to take Alex’s place, but Alex just shook his head and stayed by his wife’s side. I was really proud of my big brother then, for his strength and his devotion to his wife and baby.
I started to leave, but Mom said to stay, she might need me. I took a seat at the side of the room, as far away as I could get, which wasn’t too easy in a room as crowded as that one was. I could tell by Mom’s face that she was beginning to worry and at one point, she said, “I think the head may be stuck. I may have to make an incision.”
I myself almost passed out at that, but Robin just nodded. Mom picked up her pair of sewing scissors, the ones she uses to snip threads, and poured some alcohol over them. She paused and took a deep breath before doing what she had to.
After that, things went pretty fast. Mom said, “Here it comes!” and Robin gave a big push. Next thing I knew, Mom was holding the baby in the towel, still connected to Robin by the umbilical cord. Robin slumped back toward the bed and Dad and Alex laid her gently on it, her legs still hanging off the end.
“It’s a boy!” Skylar said exuberantly and, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Alex and Robin both smiled weakly.
Alex kissed his wife tenderly and pushed some pillows up under her head and back so she could half sit up. Mom laid the baby on Robin’s partially flattened belly and Robin put a shaky hand on his head. For a moment, she just stared at him with happy tears in her eyes. Then it seemed another contraction hit her, because she stiffened up and Mom quickly handed the baby to Alex. It was so funny; Alex was so surprised, he almost dropped the baby, but he recovered in time and held him, all bloody and gooey, up to his cheek.
I thought the drama would be over since the baby was already born, but Mom said that she still needed to deliver the afterbirth. Just the sound of that alone ma
de me want to head for the hills, but Mom had a job for me.
She told me to grab two spring clamps that I recognized from our workbench in the barn, and even though they’d already been sterilized, she had me pour alcohol over them again. Then she told me to clamp them onto the umbilical cord about two inches apart from each other while she sterilized the large pair of shears we use for trimming the horses. She offered them to me to cut the cord, but I refused in the midst of my wooziness, and she ended up doing the job. I had to get away fast when Robin had another contraction and the afterbirth came gushing out. I did almost faint then and had to sit down fast, while Skylar laughed at me.
Skylar helped Mom clean up the floor, the sheets, and Robin, and the grandmas came up with the wash basin, the water in which had had to be heated up again, and gently washed the baby while he mewed like a newborn kitten.
The baby never cried out loud like most newborns, but you could tell by his beautiful pink coloring that he was healthy. After he was bathed, Granny put one of his diapers and a warm flannel gown on him and gave him to Robin. She was exhausted, but holding the baby seemed to give her new life, and she and Alex smiled and cooed over him. We all left the room then and let them have some time alone with their new son.
About an hour later, just after midnight, the doctor finally showed up. He explained that he had been held up treating the wounds of the marauders, some of which were quite serious. He had almost lost one who had a bullet lodged near his heart, but he was stable when the doctor finally left to come here. He went right up to Robin’s room and checked on mother and son, cutting the baby’s umbilical cord shorter and attaching a special clamp to it. He also weighed the baby and took measurements.
Teenage Survivalist Series [Books 1-3] Page 13