“In fact, no one will know unless you tell them. It’ll be our little secret.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Now then, can I continue?”
“Yes.”
She placed two sanitary napkins over the soaked gauze pads. They overlapped just a bit over the center of the wound. Then she pulled out a reusable elastic bandage with Velcro strips on each end.
She held one end of the elastic bandage with her thumb, next to one end of the wound, and wrapped it over the pads and to the side of Frank’s body.
“Arch your back, old man.”
He ignored the slight and did as he was told.
She wrapped the elastic bandage around his midsection and fastened it to itself using the Velcro fastener.
“How come you stopped using tape?”
“Because we’re going to be changing the dressings several times a day. Tape is fine for the first few times, but eventually I’d be pulling off considerable amounts of your skin. I don’t think that would make you very happy.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Think you can do it yourself?”
“Piece of cake.”
“I’m going to do it a few more times. When I think you can walk I’m filing for divorce and kicking you out of my tent.”
She smiled.
He thought she had a lovely smile, but again he didn’t mention it.
Instead he asked, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“How come my guts didn’t spill out?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he sliced me open right below my navel.
“I’m not the smartest guy in the world, but I seem to remember from high school biology that I’ve got some pretty important things down there. Livers and kidneys and spleens and stuff.
“How come those things didn’t come falling out of there?”
“You were lucky. The wound didn’t penetrate the abdominal cavity. If it had, it would have sliced open all of those ‘spleens’ and other stuff, as you put it. You’d have been a goner.
“Do you remember when you used to go to the doctor every year for your old man checkup?
“Yeah.”
“Remember how the doctor always told you to lose those extra twenty pounds you were carrying?”
“It was fifteen pounds. But yeah.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you ignored him. Because those extra twenty pounds saved your life. The sword sliced through that and left the abdominal cavity intact.”
“It was fifteen pounds.”
“Whatever.”
-28-
It was as solemn an occasion as anyone could remember.
The bodies of seven once-vibrant young women lay side by side on the floor of the mine, in the far reaches of Bay 20.
Each woman had her eyes closed, her hands crossed upon her midsection, and looked as though she were sleeping.
Charlotte’s best friend Melissa was clutching her favorite teddy bear.
And just so the others wouldn’t feel “left out,” each was provided their own stuffed animal.
It was Markie’s idea.
Markie, or Mark Junior, was the son of Mark and Hannah. He was ten years old, but would argue that point, preferring “going on eleven.”
“It’s not fair for one of them to have a teddy bear and the others don’t,” he explained.
He offered up two of his own teddy bears, “on account of I’m way too old to play with them anymore.”
But two additional bears weren’t enough.
He made the rounds of the other children in the mine and solicited stuffed animals from them as well.
Not all of them were bears. There seemed to be a shortage of teddy bears in the mine.
But that was okay, he said.
“Stuffed other stuff will do.”
And so it was that the bodies which lay in repose on the mine floor each had a fuzzy creature tucked beneath one arm.
A monkey, a unicorn, even Shamu the whale.
The point, as Markie explained it, was that none of them would ever be alone again.
Bryan, who in his early twenties kicked around the idea of majoring in theology and becoming a minister (before he learned he could make more money as an engineer), led the service.
It was solemn and respectful.
Most eyes were on Charlotte, who went to her friends one by one and knelt before them to say her goodbyes.
As she moved on from each of the bodies, Karen and Debbie followed close behind to wrap the women in white sheets.
Charlotte broke down several times. Hannah, standing beside her, wrapped her arms around her each time and patiently waited for the tears to subside.
Charlotte wasn’t the only one shedding tears.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Even hardened men who normally would have looked away to try to hide their tears were crying unashamedly.
In the back of the group were four men who felt partly responsible for the deaths.
They reacted to the scene unfolding in front of them in different ways.
Bill Brady and Richard Sears looked at their feet, ashamed for the roles they’d played.
Mayor Al never looked at Charlotte. Not even once.
Instead of watching Charlotte his eyes wandered from one body to the next. He tried to envision them as they were in life. Living, laughing, loving.
Marty felt the same shame as the three men at his side.
But he also felt something else. He felt anger.
Not only at the men who’d initially sent the women into the cold. He’d already punished them for that.
No, he also felt anger at himself. At the weather. At the meteorite which had rendered the earth frozen to begin with.
At everything in general.
He’d volunteered to cover the bodies after the service was done.
He’d volunteered the help of his three partners in crime as well.
They’d gotten several pats on the back and atta-boys for the offer. Everyone in the mine thought them almost saintly for volunteering for such an unpleasant detail. Especially since they didn’t even live there.
If they only knew.
He didn’t volunteer for the burial party out of benevolence. He did so out of guilt.
Of the mine’s residents only Mark, Hannah and Debbie knew the truth: that they were complicit in the women’s deaths.
Marty thought Charlotte to be the most forgiving person he’d ever met.
It just seemed awkward, several minutes before the service started, for Charlotte to seek him out in the crowd and to hug him and thank him for coming.
And then to heap praise on him for volunteering his services.
By all rights she should have been cursing him out. Perhaps beating him with her tiny fists.
And rightfully blaming him for the loss of her friends.
He wanted to tell her himself: “I’m no saint, Charlotte. I’m the devil in disguise, and I’m not worthy of any praise.”
But he restrained himself.
Debbie told him and the others the last thing Charlotte needed at this point was more stress.
“Would you tell her that the men at the orphanage are all dead? They’ll never hurt another human being again.”
Debbie almost questioned him. Almost asked when and how the men died.
Then she thought better of it.
Some things, she decided, were better left unsaid.
After the funeral the group moved down to Bay 8 for a memorial service.
All those except for Marty, Brady, Richard and Al.
They stayed behind and retrieved shovels from behind a huge pile of powdered salt Bryan had brought up from the very end of the bay.
And one by one they worked together to place a large mound of salt over each body.
They knew the bodies wouldn’t decompose, but would mummify.
The salt would absorb the bodily fluids and prevent the skin from
breaking down and decomposing.
And that was good.
Because Charlotte was told of the compound outside the mine where she would move with the group when the thaw came again.
She was told of the small cemetery in the back of the compound, where several other loved ones were buried.
And she expressed an interest in moving the bodies there someday for a proper burial.
In the meantime, she’d asked Debbie, would it be okay to come here, to the mounds, to visit her friends?
“I think I’d find solace there, kneeling by their bodies and talking to each one.”
Debbie assured her it would be okay.
Then she found Bryan and had him set up lighting in the bay.
Lighting which would bathe the mounds with a soft glow, night and day, so Charlotte would never have to worry about being able to find her friends in the dark.
Mark was the last one to walk away, and he couldn’t help feeling a bit of déjà vu.
Seven years before, almost to the day, the group had placed his mother Phyllis in the same repose.
At this same place.
She died of natural causes and was the first of their group to die in the mine.
Now she rested peacefully in the back corner of the compound.
Mark didn’t like seeing loved ones die.
Or innocents either, for that matter.
He hoped this was the last time they’d have to do this drill before the thaw came.
He couldn’t know it now, but it was a pipe dream.
For there would be others.
-29-
Looking back, it was a minor miracle the situation at Kelly Air Force Base didn’t turn into a bloodbath.
Perhaps it was because it happened so quickly, and in such a confusing manner, that the crowd couldn’t really tell the good guys from the bad.
The hundreds of spectators who’d camped out for three days to see the bunker breached and the occupants inside taken prisoner stood and watched in stunned silence.
They were kept at bay by the long line of Security Forces patrol cars which separated them from the spectacle taking place outside the bunker.
And the security policemen standing on the other side of those cars, their M-16s aimed in the spectators’ general direction.
They saw, with a measure of satisfaction, as two of the security policemen put their old base commander, a one-star general named Swain, in handcuffs.
They’d been told that Swain had abandoned them to freeze to death, while taking his family and retreating to the relative comfort of the bunker.
Then they were confused, as another man they didn’t recognize approached the situation and appeared to be trying to gain Swain’s freedom.
A couple of the spectators actually raised their weapons when they saw the cuffs being taken off of BG Swain and placed instead on the two colonels who’d led the operation to take over the bunker.
The same colonels who’d announced to the crowd they were the new base commander and his vice commander.
As they raised their weapons, though, the security forces raised their own.
The spectators very wisely realized they were outgunned and lowered their rifles.
It would do nobody any good for bullets to start flying with women and children present.
Besides, the spectators were fascinated by the whole thing and anxious to see how it played out.
If they died, they’d never be able to see the end of the drama.
In a bizarre scene of controlled chaos, colonels Wilcox and Medley were placed into the back of two separate patrol cars, with a guard posted by each car as though they might try to escape.
It was nothing more than overkill and dramatic theater, sure. But it was a measure General Mannix took to let the crowd know he was in charge.
General Mannix lifted the same microphone Colonel Wilcox had used a few minutes before to send his own message over the public address system.
“Some of you may recognize me. My name is Lester Mannix. I am the Chief of Staff of the United States Air Force. Those of you who are Air Force members work for me. I strongly suggest you behave yourself in a manner which will not bring dishonor to yourself and to our service.
“Behind me, in the line of people who were illegally forced out of our shelter, are other faces you may or may not recognize.
“Included are the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Marine Corps General Hal Yates. The Secretary of Defense, Mr. Jason Stiles. The new President of the United States, Mr. James Hawley. And the Vice President, Mr. Tom Prince.
“Those of you who have been told we have been hiding in this bunker have been misled.
“None of us want to be here. We all have homes and neighbors and extended family members. That’s where we’d rather be.
“I personally have a home outside of Langley, Virginia. I’ve lived there for many years. I raised my children there. If I had my choice, I would have hunkered down there with my grandchildren and ridden out the storm with them.
“I know I can speak for everyone else behind me. The President and Vice-President could have stayed in Washington. They could have retained their staffs and security details. Everything would have been provided for them. They’d have ridden out the freeze in relative comfort.
“Those of you who are students of constitutional history know that the leaders of the United States are required by federal statute to provide for the continuation of power in the event of a national emergency.
“This provision was written into the constitution in the earliest days of our nation, by forward-thinking statesmen whose names you may recognize:
“Thomas Jefferson. George Washington. Benjamin Franklin.
“The forefathers did not specifically foresee a meteorite crashing into the earth and causing a catastrophic freeze. They dealt with situations which posed potential threats at the time.
“Another war with England, perhaps. Or a turf war with Native Americans.
“They foresaw the need to protect this nation’s leaders in times of great threat, so they were available to reconstitute and rebuild the government when the threat passed.
“Without the succession and protection doctrine, the United States would cease to exist. After the thaw there would be no one left in power to carry on.
“For the same reason the President and his cabinet takes to the air in an airborne command post during a nuclear war, we must take action to protect the leaders of our nation during natural disasters as well.
“Without this doctrine you might be survivors. But you would no longer be Americans.
“During wartime you might not like it when you are sent to the front lines to fight while the Secretary of Defense stays behind in the Pentagon, out of harm’s way.
“But you go anyway. Partly out of love for your country, and partly because you understand the Secretary has his own mission to perform.
“Continuity of the United States government is essential for the good of us all. I implore you all to return to your homes. Provide for and care for your families as best you can.
“God willing, we will all get through this ordeal. And then we can begin the rebuilding of the United States and make her what she once was.”
-30-
General Mannix left many things unsaid.
He implied, but never directly said, that no effort had been made to rebuild the United States to that point. And in fact it hadn’t.
The federal government knew from the beginning the second meteorite was on its way. They knew they had a window of only two years or so to start the recovery from Saris 7, before Cupid 23 would dash all their progress and send them back to square one again.
So they didn’t even try. Instead they kept Cupid 23 a state secret and used their two year window to prepare for the second freeze. To build their bunker and to collect crops and meat to place into it.
They took advantage of a great number of citizens to provide a comfortable shelter for the
elite and powerful.
In essence, they took from the many to benefit the few.
General Mannix might have a point in saying it was essential they protect the leaders of the country to provide for the continuity of government once the crisis passed.
But there was at least one person in the crowd who was rightly pissed off about the way they went about it.
Nathan Stowe was an anarchist.
Before the internet went down he was one of those people on social media who were always advocating for chaos.
He constantly called for the overthrow of the government. He helped sow the seeds of racism in the hopes of starting race wars.
Whenever there was a protest in town he showed up with a sign. It didn’t matter much what was being protested. If he agreed with the cause he protested for it. If he didn’t he counter protested.
Nathan Stowe was a man with a chip on his shoulder. He was a man filled with hate, and it wasn’t necessarily directed at any one person or group.
He was an equal opportunity hater.
He despised everybody.
He looked around him at the crowd as General Mannix made his point.
To his amazement, the rest of the crowd seemed to be buying it.
They all seemed to accept that General Mannix and his group had the right to live in what was undoubtedly a plush bunker while the rest of the citizenry would struggle every day to survive.
No one asked the general why, if they knew to prepare for the second freeze, that they told no one else so they could prepare too.
No one pointed out that yes, it might be necessary to keep the President and his cabinet and high ranking military officers safe for continuity purposes. But why did they have the right to take all their relatives in the bunker with them?
After all, the Vice-President’s brother had nothing to do with the continuity of the United States government. He was a real estate salesman, for crying out loud.
The first lady’s sister was a lobbyist. Her husband was a retired telemarketer. Her grandchildren were just snotty rich kids who likely couldn’t even spell “government.”
Final Dawn: Book 12: Where Could He Be? Page 10