Erika closed her eyes and heard two gunshots but felt no pain. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Dave on the ground. He had turned his back to her, why, she wondered. Why did he turn away? Concerned for Vince, she spun back and saw him with his mouth agape.
“Holy cow, baby, are you alright?” Vince asked. He was lying on the floor, in shock and awe of his wife.
“I’m alright,” Erika replied, catching her breath. “What happened?”
“It was Henry. Untie me,” Vince demanded quickly. He’d watched the whole thing happen. Henry came up behind Dave while he was focused on Erika. Henry shot Dave before he could shoot Erika, but Dave turned and shot Henry on his way down. “Go check on him,” Vince told her. “I’ll get Greg.”
Erika ran over to Henry. He had already turned himself over. “You saved me again. What were you thinking, old man,” Erika jested with tears in her eyes. She could see this was very bad. The bullet had ripped through his chest.
“Don’t you cry for me,” Henry sputtered. He was choking on bubbly blood coming out of his mouth. “I wasn’t gonna let you youngsters have all the glory. . .listen, you just go on surviving. . .you. . .youngsters. . .are the only. . .hope.” He exhaled one last time and his spirit left him.
Erika leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Thank you.” She closed his eyes with her hand.
Vince walked up behind her. He was supporting Greg’s weight on his shoulder. “Erika, look,” he gasped.
As Erika looked up she could see a red sun rising in the east. It cast its light down upon a group of people cheering in the camp. It was over, and they had won. The prisoners mustered their strength, armed themselves, and came in upon the gang full of fury. The people of the camp had decided that this was their chance to escape Doug’s monstrous rule. They helped the prisoners to overrun the remaining gang members and let the other fighters that were out front in. The people took their freedom into their own hands, and Doug was dead.
Chapter 25
The battle was much larger than anyone anticipated. Now there were more decisions to be made. People needed time to heal before they began the long trip over to the Lotus Camp. Luckily, Rob’s whole team survived. They hid and used guerilla warfare to keep the front-gate guards occupied. When they finally did rush the gate, Jimmy broke his arm and Tom was shot in the leg, but they were alive.
Rob took charge and quickly got things in order. He directed the people with medical knowledge to set up a trauma center. He was pleased to hear that this camp stored lots of medical supplies and among the survivors was a doctor. The gang took control of drug store with a pharmacy here. They completely raided its contents, even though the building itself was turned into rubble. The doctor was a man named Stan. He was a hostage of Doug’s. They kept him alive because he could patch up the wounded after their raids. Stan was thrilled by the sudden change of management and stepped forward immediately to volunteer his services. Erika, Vince, and Greg were all among the injured taken to the trauma center to receive care. Vince was bruised badly but not broken. Erika was in the same bruised state, but Doug broke three of her ribs when he was kicking her on the floor. Greg was messed up pretty bad. He’d dislocated his shoulder and his knee was the size of a grapefruit.
Rob knew that cleaning up this mess of a camp would take time. First thing on the agenda was to take care of the dead. No one in the camp was happy with the amount of death surrounding it, and they all knew the right thing must be done for those poor souls. The old rotting bodies scattered out behind the camp, and the heads hung as trophies around it, were piled and burned. The casualties from the battle would receive a proper burial. Next, they needed to take stock of the supplies that were here, and this compound was loaded with them. These supplies would have to be organized, prioritized, and readied for transport. All this work meant the timeline they were supposed to maintain would be utterly blown.
The group that came in on the attack was very concerned that their friends and families would be worried about them not arriving at the Lotus Camp in the time frame they planned on. The Auburn gang was rounding up horses, after the demonstration of the animals’ versatility in this harsh new landscape. There were a dozen of them, so Rob sent Randy, Michelle, and Steve to ride immediately and inform the group that already left for Lotus what happened and that they would be delayed. They ate, rested for a beat, and set off on their mission.
Then Rob met with the new leader of the Auburn refugees, Gloria. She was a nice lady with dark eyes and black hair that was going grey. Her Mexican heritage was obvious, and she took charge with a Latin flare of authority. She was pivotal in rallying the people of the camp to rise up and take down the monstrous individuals that were holding them under their thumbs. She was fed up of living in fear. Her husband Jose and her son, Jose Jr., were fighting with the Auburn gang, but they were just following orders to keep themselves and Gloria safe. In actuality, they were waiting for the right moment to get away from the compound. When they saw it, they took it, but Jose died in the struggle. Gloria focused her pain on saving all the people she could, and now those people looked to her for leadership.
She knew all the ins and outs of the food preparation and domestic needs of the camp. She immediately directed her people to cooking, cleaning the soiled clothing, and supply organization. All the people with any carpentry skills were sent to task building wagons for horses and carts that people could pull as well. Everyone would have to do their share to maximize the amount of the valuable supplies they could carry. Anyone who needed clothing because theirs were destroyed in the fight or they were living as slaves were given new clothes. The clothing was piled high, raided from the surrounding clothing stores. There was no way to carry all the supplies this group stocked up. Food and medicine would receive the highest priority.
The trauma center was little more than a covered area set up outdoors because of the limited indoor space. A cool September wind swept across Erika’s bare shoulders as she sat up. Holding the blanket to her chest to keep herself covered, her eyes focused on a pile of clothes with the tags still on, sitting next to her. There were new, clean jeans and a fresh black T-shirt. A sports bra that was just her size and underwear still in the packaging sat on top of a camouflage hoodie. There were even new socks and a pair of boots next to her moccasins.
She began to reach for them when she heard a voice in a German accent say, “You may want to clean yourself up before you get dressed.”
“Who are you?” Erika exclaimed. She was exhausted when she was taken to the trauma center and didn’t remember much that transpired. Hoping their victory was reality and not some sick dream she’d conjured in an unconscious state, she asked, “We won, didn’t we? Doug is dead, right?”
“Yes, yes, don’t you worry,” he reassured her in his thick German accent. “We won and Doug, thankfully, is dead. My name is Stan and I’m a doctor,” he explained.
“Oh,” Erika answered slowly.
“Still feeling dizzy, are we? Don’t worry, it will subside, but your ribs are going to hurt for a while. Look. . .there’s a shower over there,” he told her, pointing to an area with a water tank perched above a blanket-surrounded box.
“A shower? Really?” she asked in disbelief. Erika loved showers and it had been months since the last one she took, at home in her cozy house.
“Yes, a real shower, but it’s going to get well used today. You better get to it. Then we’ll put some fresh bandages on those wrists and wrap those ribs tight to minimize the pain,” Stan said. His voice was smooth and comforting.
Looking down, she saw the vibrant bruising along her rib cage. Her gaze went to her wrists. They were covered with dried blood that ran down into her hands. “Well, that’s some more scars to add to the list,” Erika commented sarcastically.
“I’d ask about those, but I’ll wait till you’re ready to share,” Stan stated, attending to a patient beside her. Working in his profession, he saw many things and knew how sensitive talking about her
amount of excessive scarring could be for a patient.
“Thanks,” Erika told him, happy he didn’t want to talk about it. Her head was still foggy with sleep as she rose, wrapping her blanket around herself. Her ribs surged pain through her body as she moved her arms. She winced but remained quiet. This was not the first time she’d dealt with the pain of broken ribs. Her martial arts practice caused a couple in the past.
“Here, take this,” Stan instructed her, watching her move. He knew the pain she was feeling must be excruciating, but he was taken aback by her lack of reaction to it. He took mental note of her pain tolerance level, understanding she must have endured a lot of it. He held out two Ibuprofen.
“Is there enough? I can handle the pain,” Erika asked, concerned about the lack of medication.
“I see that. You look like a very tough girl. It is just a couple Ibuprofen and we have plenty. Take it,” he insisted. “It will reduce the inflammation.”
Erika took the pills with a drink of water that Stan brought her. She marveled at how cool and refreshing it tasted as she swallowed the whole glass. As her taste buds revived, her stomach growled, smelling the delicious scent of food cooking.
“Mmmm, that smells good,” she murmured to herself.
“I want you to take it easy on water and food, sport. Your ribs are broken and with no x-ray I can’t tell if they spurred in toward your stomach or your lungs for that matter. You’ll need to keep that stomach small and I wouldn’t recommend any fighting or physical activity for a while,” continued Stan. “Anyway, shower first, now go,” he ordered.
“Okay,” said Erika. She immediately liked this man; no one called her sport except her grandfather and it conjured fond memories of him in her head. She projected these loving feelings onto Stan and he deserved it. He was very kind and had an excellent bedside manner.
Stan stooped down and picked up her pile of clothes, knowing if she attempted this motion, it would be very painful for her. “And here’s a backpack for your old ones if you want them. All your weapons are piled over there,” he instructed her, pointing to an organized assortment of weapons all waiting for their owners to recover them.
“Thank you,” said Erika, “For everything.”
Taking the clothes from him, she headed toward the shower. Erika was intrigued by the its design. A big plastic tank was stacked on top of a wooden box. The tank was heated from the sun. Besides the arduous task of getting water up there, its design was simple. The wooden box was surrounded by rugs. Erika remembered seeing ones like these displayed for sale in a nearby department store. They were the same rugs Doug lined his den with. Erika shuddered at the thought. Inside the wooden box was a tube that let water out of the tank on top. She understood the mechanics. To unleash the water, she needed to pull on the rope and uncap the hose.
Erika stepped in and removed her towel. She looked down at her body and rolled her eyes. The scars from the steaming hot plastic were now covered in bruises that came to a vibrant peak of color around her left ribs. She pulled on the handle to start the water flowing and began to rinse away the dried blood that clung to her skin. She thought about how much blood she cleaned off her body since the beginning of all this madness as she let the water run through her hair. Reaching for a bar of soap, she noticed there was real shampoo and conditioner too. Erika was thrilled. Many days passed since she washed her hair with anything other than bar soap. The shampoo smelled like coconut and she washed her hair vigorously, lathering the shampoo into a thick sudsy lather. She pulled the cord that released the water, washing the bubbles away. Then, she squeezed a large blob of conditioner onto her hand, massaging it through her scalp. She gave it extra time to work its magic as she lathered the soap all over her body. Rinsing for a final time, she remembered the silky feeling conditioner gave her hair. It was smooth and soft, and she could run her fingers right through it without hitting one snarl. The luscious smells of the soaps filled her nostrils and the shower reinvigorated her spirit.
The pain medicine was kicking in and Erika was feeling better as she reached for her clean clothes. The familiar smell of new clothes reminded her of happier times. She thought back to how her husband always insisted they wash any new clothes before they wore them. He was right. There was a flame-retardant chemical they used on new clothes that could be dangerous. Maybe that additive would be a benefit now, she chuckled to herself. Savoring the smell and the crisp feeling, she put on each new article of clothing. There was a bench outside the shower for dressing. She approached it and sat down to put on her boots and pack up her old things. Her shirt was in the trash. Doug had destroyed it anyway. When she looked up from her bag, Vince was standing there with a pile of clothes.
She jumped up in a joyful bounce and without words they embraced and held one another tightly. The pain of the hug was intense, but Erika didn’t back away. The discomfort was entirely worth it. Tears rolled down both of their faces.
“I thought I lost you. . .again!” Vince sighed.
“You should know by now, you’re not getting rid of me that easily, silly,” Erika jested back.
“I love you, Erika,” he said very seriously, completely ignoring her sarcasm. Rarely did Vince use her actual name and it amplified the power of his statement.
“I love you too, Vince,” Erika replied, looking deeply into his eyes. They could feel the love swirling around them like a ball of fire.
“So, you’re done? I missed all the good stuff?” Vince teased with a sparkle in his eye.
“Oh yeah, little Miss bruise-scar body,” Erika grumbled.
“Now, you better knock that shit off. You’re still my beautiful woman,” Vince insisted. He hated when she put herself down. “Did that shower make you feel better?” he asked, quickly changing the subject.
“I feel freaking awesome. They have coconut shampoo and conditioner in there, babe, real shampoo and conditioner! Here, smell,” Erika demanded, putting her head toward him. She shoved a handful of hair under his nose.
Vince inhaled deeply. She smelt so good to him. He wrapped his arms around her again and squeezed.
“Ow, ow, ow,” Erika yelped.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Vince quickly let go and backed away a little. “You’re just so beautiful. I could just eat you up.”
“Look at this,” Erika said and lifted her shirt to expose her ribs.
“Damn. . .that looks awful, babe,” Vince commented, wishing he could have kept her away from that asshole.
“I’ll heal. God knows, I’ll heal,” she told him, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you better get your stinky butt in that shower. You need it, bad,” Erika said with a teasing look. She was waving her hand in front of her nose.
“All right, all right, don’t get your panties all wrinkled up,” Vince said with a wink. “That’s my job,” he added quickly, stepping into the shower stall to avoid a smack to his bottom from Erika.
Erika sat back down on the bench to put on her new socks and boots. New boots, she commented to herself. She always hated new boots. They were stiff and took time to break in. However, with the feeling of coolness in the air, she assumed the waterproof boots would serve her better than moccasins. The feel of the air told her that rain was on the way. In California the rain only came with cooler weather. She was from the Midwest where there were warm summer rains. It was one of the weather patterns Erika missed from her childhood.
When she was done lacing up her boots, Erika went to meet with Stan. Despite Erika’s protesting, Stan wrapped her ribs in an Ace bandage. Erika admitted that it did feel much better to have them wrapped. Plus, the bandage limited her movement, so she didn’t accidentally bend at a painful angle. Soon they would be on the move, and Stan had a feeling that Erika was not going to sit on the sidelines.
By the time Stan was done working on Erika, Vince rejoined her, fresh from his shower. They went to visit with Greg before they left for the food area. Greg was in a particularly bad mood. The combination of the condition of his knee
and dislocated shoulder prevented him from moving very much.
“I can’t even use crutches because the crutch sits in my armpit and hurts my shoulder,” Greg huffed. “I’m gonna have to go to Lotus in a pull cart with the supplies.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get there, Greg,” Vince assured him.
“You’ll be good as new in no time,” Erika added.
There was no cheering him up, though, so they left him pouting like a baby.
The camp was coming alive. The people of the camp looked well rested. They were all on the move. Most of them were headed the same direction as Vince and Erika: to grab some food before checking in with their assigned team. There were many more people than Erika previously assumed and with the smell of food in the air, spirits were high. Erika noticed another smell in the air. Outside of the camp, in the old graveyard, a fire was still burning. Thinking of all the bodies they saw there, Erika knew it would take a long time to burn. Looking at the smoke, she shook her head in disgust. It was unbelievable to think that people who acted so civilized could turn to this level of horribleness in less than a few months. No one understood how fragile the world was, Erika thought, we just took it for granted.
Sitting down to eat, they were joined by Rob. He wore his long, dark hair in a ponytail. It swayed back and forth as he proceeded to fill them in on all the plans while Erika and Vince ate.
“You already sent riders back to the Lotus Camp?” Vince confirmed.
“One of the first things we did,” Rob told him.
“That’s great, now Mom and the kids won’t worry,” Erika commented.
“We’re packing up right now, but all the supplies need to be sorted and the dead have to be properly cared for,” Rob explained.
Erika noted the smoldering smell coming from that direction. “It’s a unique smell,” Erika said, wrinkling her nose.
“It’s taking longer than we anticipated to dig all the graves. We’re just doing mass graves now, but there’s a lot more bodies than we thought,” Rob declared, looking concerned. “But, at least they’ll be more taken care of than what was going on here.”
The Changing Earth Series (Book 1): Day After Disaster Page 23