REVENGE: Shelter Book 6 (The Shelter)

by Ira Tabankin

  “You’re not taking her away?”

  “Jay, see me in a couple of hours. Go help the others; we can save many if we act quickly.”

  Jay walks to the next body he finds on the ground. A soldier is rocking back and forth, there’s a bleeding hole in the back of his head, the back of his uniform is burned and ripped apart by the shrapnel. Jay rips his own shirt into strips which he wraps around the soldier’s head.

  “Can you hear me?” Jay asks looking into his dazed eyes.

  The soldier just stares ahead, rocking and rolling back and forth, like an agitated autistic child.

  “Come on, let’s try to get you up and to the SUV so we can get you to the shelter.” He knows the soldier can’t hear him or is in a state of shock. He tries to gently help the soldier to his feet. Gripping him under his arms, the soldier screams in pain. Remembering his back. Jay uses his knife to cut the man’s shirt off. His back looks like it’s been ripped open. Jay shakes his head not knowing what to do. Tears fill his eyes when he feels a soft hand on his shoulder.

  “Jay, let me help him. I have some drugs.”

  He looks up to see the bandaged bloody face of Wendy, one of their two nurses, bending over him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Good enough to help those much worse than me. There are trucks coming to take the wounded to the shelter. We’re going to set up triage rooms. Jay, there’s a row of not so badly wounded to your right, why don’t you take these bandages and help patch them up?”

  “Okay. I’ll do what I can. What about him?”

  “I’ll get some help to move him to the shelter. We can’t do much for him here. I’m not sure we can do much for him, except alleviate his pain. We have a lot of morphine. I’ll deal with him.”

  “Wendy, are you sure you’re okay? I see blood soaking through your bandages.”

  “I caught a couple of pieces of shrapnel, I only need a few stitches and I’ll be fine.”

  Shaking his head, Jay looks at all of the destruction around him, “There are so many people wounded, I can’t believe it, plus we still have those trapped inside the caved in shelter. Has anyone heard from them since the roof gave in?”

  “I don’t know. I came when the call for help went out. I was exiting my SUV when the bombs exploded.”

  “Wendy, how many were killed?”

  Wendy turns her face away from Jay, she doesn’t want to look into his eyes, she keeps her head moving left and right, “I don’t know. Many of the soldiers right under the bombs caught the worst of it. They had just arrived when two flashes of light lit up the sky and shrapnel rained down on everyone under the exploding bombs. I got knocked down and knocked out. When I woke, my head was bleeding. All I saw was hell all around me. I forced myself to begin helping people, I saw Doctor Basco, bleeding yet helping some of the most seriously wounded. I ripped a shirt off one of the bodies; I tied it around my head so the blood couldn’t get in my eyes. Jay, I took a shirt off a dead body. I feel bad about it. I stole from the dead.”

  “He didn’t need it. You did. We have to do everything we can to survive. We all do. Wendy, we’ll survive and be stronger than before. I’ll help bandage the wounded, please help this soldier, I don’t know his name. His name tag is covered in blood.”

  “I’ll do all I can for him, she pushes an IV of morphine into the soldier’s arm.

  Jogging to the rows of wounded. Jay begins opening the sealed packages of bandages to cover the wounds. He wonders, is this what hell looks like? Is this what my brother sees every day? My God, GOD, why? Why did you allow them to strike us when we were trying to save our friends trapped underground? What kind of evil strikes when we were on a rescue mission? Are they aligned with the dark side?

  Jay’s thoughts are interrupted by the calls for help and water. He moves to those crying. Thinking of the man sitting in the White House, you may have thought you won. I promise you, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you pay for this. I didn’t want a war, I didn’t want people to die and suffer. We struck your grid and then offered to rebuild the damage so you would get a small taste what could happen in a real war. You struck our rescue mission. You were aiming to take me out. You’ve made this personal. If it’s personal, you want. You can have it. I’m not going to kill you; I’m going to make you suffer like you made these poor people suffer. I’m going to bring you pain like you never imagined existed. You tried to kill Lacy, my wife; you’re a hell-spawned demon. I’m going to make it my goal to watch you suffer and then when you think you can’t endure any more, I’m going to unleash all of the horrors of hell upon you. I’ll have my revenge on you, even if dooms my soul, I will have my revenge.

  Jay works for hours without looking at his watch or stopping for a break. Stretching, he’s startled when he feels a tapping on his shoulder. Looking up he sees Fred staring down at him. Jay stops wrapping the bandage around a woman’s arm when he looks up again, seeing Fred’s face lined with tear tracks and dried blood. Jay stands wrapping his arms around Fred, who breaks down crying in Jay’s arms.

  “She’s gone. She’s gone! I found her. They killed her. Jay, they killed her. My life is over.”

  “Sit with me, talking will help, tell me everything.”

  Fred screams, “I want to kill him. He also killed my sons; I found both of them crushed under a pickup that flipped over from one of the bombs. My family is gone. I have nothing left to live for. I’m resigning as your assistant. I’m going to D.C., and I’m going to kill the son of a bitch. I’m going to stick my rifle up his ass and shoot him until the bullets come out of his mouth.”

  “Fred, where are the bodies of your family? Let’s pray for their souls together.”

  “In the first row of the dead.”

  Jay slowly guides his crying friend towards the line of bodies; all are lying under dark green military tarps. Only their boots, shoes or bare feet extend from the bottom of the tarps. They stop in front of the line of bodies. Looking at the two rows of the dead, Jay’s eyes fill with tears matching the tears flowing from Fred’s eyes.

  “So many, so many innocents. They were on a rescue mission. They weren’t even armed. Fred, trust me, we’ll get our revenge. I promise you, you will be standing next to me when we taste our sweet revenge, we’ll be side by side when we win. I won’t rest until he pays for what he’s done.”

  “Thank you. I knew you’d understand.” Hugging each other, Fred whispers, “How’s Lacy?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I really don’t know. I thought she was gone; I was holding her when Doctor Basco took her to the hospital. I think it’s time to find out how she is, I lost track of time helping the injured. First, let’s kneel and pray for the souls of your family.”

  The two kneel in the dirt and mud offering their prayers for Fred’s family. Others pause; they remove their hats or helmets as they silently stand behind their friend and leader, listening to him and Fred pray. Many are moved to tears listening to the heartfelt words filled with reverence and love that come from Jay’s mouth. When he’s finished, the two help each other up, Jay wraps his arm around Fred to hold him steady.

  “Come, let’s go find her together. We’re not needed here; there are lots of people better trained than us. They’ve already gotten most of the wounded patched up. We’re just getting in their way.”

  “Jay, I think you should clean up before you enter the hospital.”

  “Why? Are you saying I need a shower? What’s wrong with the way I look?”

  “You look like an extra in a horror movie.”

  “I feel like I’m in a horror movie; you don’t look much better, my friend.”

  They drive five wounded to the shelter where they are helped inside by the compound’s teens; their ever present helpfulness has kept the shelter going through many altercations. Entering the shelter Jay and Fred step over bloody bandages and the wounded lying everywhere. The walking wounded are helping those who are too wounded to walk. Jay pauses to talk with everyone.
He kneels to those who can’t stand. He whispers words of encouragement to everyone. He helps adjust their bandages, he hands each person a bottle of water. He next helps sooth a crying child who’s clinging to his wounded father. He spends time with everyone, he holds a young teenager he doesn’t know in his arms who’s crying about never seeing his mother again. Jay leans over, brushing hair out of the teen’s eyes, whispering,

  “I promise you, you’ll see her again, tell me where she is, and I’ll have her brought here.”

  “We lived about twenty miles south, on a small farm. I came to help in exchange for supplies.”

  “Give me your address, I’ll have someone go get your mother, if you want, the two of you can stay at my house. We have plenty of room.”

  “Mr. Jay, you really mean that?”

  “Yes, I do. I give you my word. I’ll have your mother here tonight. The two of you will be my guests, you’ll want for nothing. You’ll have all of the supplies you’ll ever need.”

  The young man buries his head on Jay’s shoulder crying tears of relief. Jay pats his back, making sure not to touch his wounded left side, “We’ll get even, and you and your mom will bask in our victory.”

  Fred smiles watching his friend do whatever he can to help each of the wounded. He knows what to say to help everyone. He cares for everyone. He feels their pain. We’re lucky he came here. Jay looks up at Fred,

  “We have to help where we can. So many are in such pain. They were trying to help when he attacked them. I feel the hate burning in my belly. I’m going to get even for everyone who was injured or killed today. First, we’ll care for our wounded, we’ll bury our dead, we’ll rebuild and then, on our time, we will get even. I promise you, we will get the last word.”

  Unknown to Jay one of the local town’s people is a reporter for their small local town paper. He’s been following Jay all day. The reporter’s story is titled, “A day in the life of the President.” He records Jay holding Lacy in his arms yelling into the sky, he records Jay assisting the wounded. Images of him ripping shirts to use as bandages, he captures images of Jay comforting Fred and the two of them praying over Fred’s dead family. The reporter records him holding and comforting the wounded teen, he doesn’t know what Jay said to the teen, only that the boy’s face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. The hundreds of images show a dirty, bloodstained Jay kneeling next to the wounded. He shows Jay comforting a crying child. Images of Jay on his knees praying with his people. Neither Jay nor Fred realize their actions are being recorded. A picture of Jay’s blood stained, tear stained face while he holds the crying baby is the lead photo of the story which is published all over the Confederacy. The story goes viral around the world in minutes. His story is seen by tens of millions.

  The reporter tells the story of the attack from the people of the shelter’s point of view. The images, many he published in black and white show the pain in Jay’s eyes; they show how the Confederate’s President responds to the attack on his people. The reporter posts them on the internet to show everyone the type of person who is leading the Confederacy. The story takes both the North and South by storm. Jay becomes an instant folk hero. People post they want to help; millions of dollars are pledged to help the wounded. People line up to give blood. Police carry additional medical personnel to Jay’s farm to offer their assistance with their sirens screaming. The entire Confederacy pledges their support to their President. Jay’s called an honest man, a man of the people, a man who risks his life helping the wounded. A man who easily relates to the average person, because he is one of them. A man who strongly believes in God. A man who isn’t afraid to pray in public. One who isn’t afraid to possibly offend another’s religion, he allows all religions to openly pray. Images of a line of people, Jews praying next to a Roman Catholic priest and a Southern Baptist minister, black, white and Hispanic working hand and hand prove to all that the New Confederacy isn’t the same country it wasn’t in 1850. The last image in the post is a shot taken with a telephoto lens showing Jay’s blood and dirt stained face streaked with tear tracks, the image shows a new tear forming in his eyes while he carries the body of a dead soldier draped in his arms toward a pickup truck.

  The reporter locates and posts images of some of the bomb fragments, proving the site was bombed. One of the pictures shows the ‘made in the USA’ mark, proving the North attacked Jay’s farm. He writes the attack wasn’t committed against soldiers; the attack was carried out against a rescue mission who were trying to help the people caught in the new shelter’s cave in. The reporter makes it very clear; this was an act of first-degree murder, not an act of war.

  @@@@@

  The President of the Northern States, unaware of the story and images, stands in front of the cameras in the White House Press room. The room, as usual, is packed with hand-picked people, most of them friendly and strong supporters of the President.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve received a report saying the President of the Confederacy has suffered a massive cave in at one of his construction sites. One of our satellites has captured images of hundreds of wounded and dead. We stand before the world’s press this afternoon to offer our unconditional aid to the Confederacy in this, their time of need.”

  “Mr. President, do you know what caused the cave-in?” asks the ABC White House reporter.

  “We have no idea. We got lucky when one of our satellites caught a couple of images showing rows of wounded and dead. We don’t know what caused it or what they were building. We assume the President didn’t prepare a proper environmental impact survey to fully understand the implications of his digging anywhere he wants to. There are reasons why the EPA and other agencies have to prepare detailed surveys, some lasting years, before a decision can be made if the local area is safe for digging. Unfortunately, cave-ins and injured are the price one sometimes has to pay for disregarding the common sense rules we in the Northern States have come to accept as best for all.”

  “Sir, a follow-up. There are rumors of an aerial attack against the President of the Confederacy. Do you have any comment?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It was a cave in. We don’t fly warplanes over the Confederacy. It’s against our treaty. Why would we do that? The people of the Confederacy are our friends. They’re helping us rebuild our grid and water treatment plants. It’s very unfortunate the people in the South decided they want to live differently from the rest of us, but we have to remember, they’ve always been a little different from us. They live a life in some ways with one foot in the past. They strongly cling to their Bibles and guns. Neither are very useful, as we’ve seen today.”

  “Mr. President, Fox News, how do you explain the images of flipped over and burning vehicles? How do you explain images of bomb fragments?”

  “Maybe the shock wave from the cave in blew them over. There’s no proof those metal fragments came from a bomb. Next question.”

  “Sir, a follow-up?”

  “No, next question, please. You, there, NBC.”

  “Sir, do you have any idea how many people were killed in the cave in?”

  “I’m sorry, we don’t.”

  “Mr. President, CBS News, have you been in touch with the President of the Confederacy?”

  “I’ve placed a call; however, he hasn’t returned my call yet.”

  The room is filled with the sounds of people whispering, none can believe another country’s leader wouldn’t quickly return the president’s call. Many of the reporters wonder if the stories about the President of the Confederacy are accurate. The stories that he’s crazy and wants to be a dictator.

  “Mr. President, NBC, are you sending aid to the South?”

  “Thank you for asking that question. I’m happy to announce we’re sending ten C130 cargo planes filled with support people and supplies to the President’s farm.”

  “Sir, Fox News, …”

  “Not you, does anyone else have a question?”

  “Sir, CBS, d
id you say ten airplanes of aid? Wasn’t it a just a single cave in?”

  “Yes, it was, however, we’ve seen there is a large number of wounded who may need assistance.”

  “Sir, a follow-up question, are you sure the Confederacy is going to allow ten airplanes to cross their border?”

  “I hope so; we are escorting the cargo planes with fighters in case the Confederacy misunderstands our aid flights. It’s our moral responsibility to provide aid to those less fortunate than us, it’s who we are as Americans. I don’t believe that the rural area of Tennessee the President calls home, is able to provide the amount of aid the cave in is going to need. We consider human life to be sacred, if the Confederacy can’t provide sufficient aid to those who need it, we will.”

  “Sir, is this an aid flight or an invasion?” Asks the Fox News reporter.

  “Security, please remove the reporter from Fox News from the White House, revoke her credentials, she’s not to enter the White House again.”