The Road North
Book II of the Scavenger and Scout series.
By
Phillip D. Granath
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2018 by Phillip D. Granath
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the expressed written permission of the author.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my wife Abby, my son Gage and my daughter Rowan for their love and support as I pursue this new and exciting dream that is writing.
I would also like to thank Abby, Maggie and particularly Jeremy Wilson, and his never ending supply of cigars, for their support throughout the struggle that is my creative process.
And finally I would like to thank my extended network of fellow EOD techs, veterans and fans that continually inspire me. This Wasteland has grown to be as much yours as it is mine.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Best Kept Secrets
Ulterior Motives
Going Downtown
A Reckoning
Simple Math
Fast and Dangerous
The Devils of Phoenix
Mixed Signals
The Heart of the Matter
My Tower’s Keeper
Rite of Passage
Hidden Treasures
Into the Desert
On the Hunt
Back Trail
Hard Choices
The Rubicon
Through the Storm
Hard Broke
The Dead of Night
No Other Way
In Search of Answers
Uninvited Guests
Homecoming
Out of the Darkness
Epilogue
Best Kept Secrets
Kyle sat bolt upright in bed, and not for the first time, found himself alone. In the distance, the bell rang again and again. He stood in the dark and quickly pulled on his pants. In the next room, separated by just a plastic curtain, a lamp flared to life, and he could hear Anna moving around, preparing, and he knew immediately that she had already been awake. Forgoing his shirt and shoes, Kyle slipped through the plastic curtain and into Anna’s ad-hoc emergency room.
Located in the back of the City Council building the room had once been filled with cubicles and covered in a thin lime green carpet. The carpet was gone now and replaced with several layers of blue tarps, a covering that wouldn’t soak up blood and when needed could be quickly replaced. Sections of the cubicle walls were now repurposed as dividers on the far side of the room, separating three cots intended for patient recovery. The center of the room was dominated by a large steel table, the kind of thing you would have been found in any welding or machine shop.
Anna stood next to the table now, carefully laying out a selection of gauze, forceps, and bandages, trying to prepare for whatever was about to be brought kicking and screaming through her door. Kyle caught himself for a moment as if seeing his wife for the first time. Anna’s long dark hair was held back in a ponytail, a red bandana was already tied around her neck, ready to be used as a mask when the patient arrived. She wore a dark blue rubber apron that stretched all the way to the floor, but it still wasn’t enough to hide her swollen belly. Sometimes he forgot she was pregnant, especially when he saw her for the first time each morning. Then he would remember, and spend the rest of the day trying to forget. Anna looked up at him then, held his eyes for a moment, and then turned back to the table.
“Sterilize the table, and if you’re not going to put a shirt on, at least put on an apron,” she said.
Kyle blinked and then looked down at himself, realizing he was still only wearing pants.
“Ahhhh, yeah,” he replied.
Retrieving the apron and his own bandana from its hook on the wall, Kyle pulled on the cold rubber and tied it behind his back. He quickly moved to the cabinet and retrieving a bottle of vodka poured a small amount on the center of the table, before wiping it down with a clean rag. As he wiped, he realized he could no longer hear the bell.
“The bell stopped,” Kyle said, suddenly feeling the need to fill the silence.
Anna didn’t reply, she just kept adjusting her tools, so Kyle added.
“I guess that means Coal is on his way back.”
“Or it means that someone is already dead,” Anna replied.
Kyle just nodded, not sure what else to say. Things had never been the same between them since Anna’s rape. Perhaps sensing his thoughts, she placed a hand on her swollen belly and leaned against the table with a sigh.
“Maybe you could get me the stool from the other room?” Anna asked.
Bur Kyle didn’t hear her words and remained rooted in place as he stared pointedly at Anna’s midsection. Not for the first time he was wondering whose child grew inside of her, his or one of the men who that raped his wife. They had never spoken of the attack or the resulting pregnancy, and as Anna’s belly had grown, so had the distance between them.
“Kyle, are you listening to me?” she demanded.
“What?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! I’ll get it myself, go outside and try and to help Coal!” Anna shouted as she stormed from the room.
Kyle opened his mouth to speak but then paused, unsure if he wanted to apologize or shout back at her. He stood there dumbly for a moment before giving up and heading towards the door. Anna found the stool in the dark of their room, she paused there for a moment leaning against it and let out a quick sob. She heard Kyle push his way through the double doors leading outside and was glad he wouldn’t see her like this.
Kyle pushed through the double doors and out into the night, his bare feet touched the loose gravel, and he immediately regretted not putting on his boots. He glanced back inside, for a moment considering if he should go put them on, then shaking his head decided against it. Anna was in one of her moods again it seemed, and he’d rather go without than face her again. He knew she must be frustrated with the situation and angry, probably even more so than he was.
Since Anna’s rape and the subsequent violence that Kyle and Coal had orchestrated in its wake, many things had changed for the town. Water was now distributed fairly, and it seemed that between the City Council and the Black Jackets that the streets had been, quite begrudgingly, made safe again. But this was still no place to try and raise a child. Added to the fact was that Anna was the only one in town even remotely qualified to deliver a baby, made the prospect of her giving birth even more troubling. Kyle knew Anna well enough not to even broach the topic of having an abortion. She had been raised Catholic, and though few left these days kept much stock in religion, Anna did. But he would be a liar if he said that the thought had never crossed his mind, and though she had never said it, he would bet that it had crossed hers as well.
A high-pitched whine followed closely rattle of wooden wheels announced Coal’s return. Kyle shook his head, suddenly thankful for the distraction, and propped open the doors to the clinic. The sharps glow of LED highlights lit the side of the building as Coal pulled the electric car into the compound, pulling a heavy wooden wagon. The car, originally intended to rove the surface of Mars represented the last piece of working electronics in the town, and as far as Kyle knew, the world. The wagon that had been intended to carry them north across the desert was now repurposed into the town’s only ambulance. The buggy’s hard plastic wheels screeched to a halt in front of Kyle, and the dark-eyed Indian gave him a shit-eating grin.
/> “Morning Tonto!” Coal shouted.
“Technically I think it’s still nighttime,” Kyle replied, as he moved toward the back of the wagon.
Coal’s brow furrowed and leaping from the driver’s seat, he took a moment to look up at the stars.
“You might be right, pale face. Give or take 15 minutes or so.”
“Damn it, give me a hand back here!” Kyle shouted.
Coal moved to the back of the wagon and helped Kyle lower the heavy backboard. Inside the wagon two patients lay on old army cots, covered in a layer of plastic sheeting.
“What’s their status?” Kyle asked as he climbed into the back of the wagon.
“Well, I’m pretty sure that guy is dead,” Coal said pointing at one of the victims, “And she is almost dead.”
Kyle glanced at the dead man, his face was white, and his eyes were half open. Kyle leaned over and gave the man’s eye a quick poke, the eye didn’t blink, and Kyle turned to the patient. The woman was unconscious, her color was just a shade better than her dead friend’s. The woman’s midsection was wrapped in a thick layer of bandages, in Coal’s typical “more is always better” attitude. A second bandage was wrapped around her leg and appeared to be still leaking blood.
“Damn it Coal, what am I looking at here?” Kyle shouted applying pressure to the bandaged leg.
“Two stab wounds to the guts, another in the leg and a damn fine bandaging job if I do say so myself,” Coal replied proudly.
At that moment, in a clatter of hooves, a pair of Black Jacket’s on horseback rode into the compound. Their horses were breathing hard, and it was apparent to Kyle that they had chased Coal all the way from the scene of the attack.
“Howdy Boys! What took you so long? Stop for a quick buggering?”
“Fuck you Coal!” one of the officers shouted in reply.
In the blink of an eye Coal’s demeanor changed, and the Indian shifted his weight ever so slightly. He let go of the side of the wagon, freeing his hands, and suddenly both Black Jacket’s became very aware of the cavalry saber and bone-handled hunting knife that Coal wore at his waist.
“Say it again,” Coal demanded.
“God damn it, we don’t have time for this!” Kyle shouted.
The three men held their stare for a few moments longer, Coal looked ready to pounce, while the Black Jackets looked more likely to flee.
“She is fucking dying! One of you two get down here and help me move her. I want the other one to take both horses and go get Gabriel. He’s an old man and can be a pain in the ass, so tell him the council’s offering him a double ration of water, if that won't do, then offer him a triple, but no more than that,” Kyle ordered.
The Black Jackets exchanged a quick glance, and then the younger of the two stepped down and moved to the wagon to help Kyle. The other man took the reins and after staring at Coal for a moment longer, he spun his horse around and led both animals out into the street at a full gallop.
“Good dog, go fetch!” Coal shouted after him.
As Kyle and the remaining Black Jacket lifted the wounded woman in the plastic sheet, Kyle shouted at Coal.
“You’re unfucking believable! Of all the times to get in a pissing match with people that are trying to help us!”
Coal turned, a look of surprise on his face, “What? Me? They fucking started it!”
“Clean the wagon out, get ready to go again, it may be a busy night,” Kyle shouted.
With the Black Jacket’s help, Kyle carried the woman through the open doors and into the clinic. Anna waited next to the table, her gloves and her mask on now. As they entered the room, she held her hands up in frustration and gave Kyle her usual raised eyebrow look.
“Don’t even ask,” Kyle said, as they deposited the woman on the table.
Kyle pushed the Black Jacket aside and taking up a pair of shears began cutting away the victims clothing, as Anna did the same on the other side. During the day a pair of nurses would be on hand to help, or more accurately a pair of woman that had volunteered to help. But here at night, Anna, Coal, and Kyle worked alone.
“The leg first,” Anna announced in her all business tone.
“Did they get an artery?” Kyle offered.
“If it was the artery she would be dead already. Now come over here and get ready to irrigate the wounds, I’m going to try and seal it up.” Anna ordered, and then looking up at the Black Jacket added, “You get ready to hold her down, this is going to do more than just tickle.”
The young Black Jacket suddenly looked like he would have rather stayed outside and dealt with Coal’s threats. Reluctantly he moved to the head of the table and put his hands firmly down on the woman’s shoulders. Kyle moved around to stand next to Anna and grabbing a plastic squeeze top bottle of sterilized water stood ready.
“I’ve already sent for Gabriel,” Kyle said.
“Good,” Anna replied with a nod.
After Pauli’s death, the clinic found themselves without someone with type O- blood, a universal donor, on hand. The problem was that since they had no way of testing people’s blood type, they had to rely on people old enough to have known their blood type at the time of the collapse. With the help of the City Council and the promise of extra rations of water, they had been able to find three universal donors in town willing to share their blood. Anna had made up a rotation, trying to ensure each volunteer received as much recovery time between donations as possible.
“Well she can’t wait, you know that crotchety old bastard, he’ll want to argue and bitch about coming out in the middle of the night. Here we go,” Anna said.
With a quick and practiced motion, Anna cut away the blood-soaked bandage. The stab wound was perhaps three inches long, with clean edges, from which blood started to flow freely the moment the bandage was pulled away.
“Irrigate,” Anna ordered.
Kyle obeyed, spraying the wound down with the bottle and momentarily flushing away the blood. Anna immediately inserted a pair of wide forceps into the wound forcing it open.
“Again!”
As ordered, Kyle sprayed down the now open wound, and Anna immediately began dabbing the insides with an alcohol-soaked wad of gauze, trying to clean out the wound.
“She’s lucky, it looks like whoever stabbed her used a real blade, not a jagged shiv or piece of....”
Suddenly the woman’s leg jerked upward, yanking the forceps free from Anna’s hands. She started to scream thrashing back and forth on the table. Anna threw herself down on top of the woman’s kicking legs, trying to hold her still, and overturning her tray of tools in the process.
“Hold her down god damn it!” Anna screamed.
“I’m trying!” the Black Jacket shouted back.
The young man still had a hold of the woman’s shoulders, but now used his weight to leverage her back down on to the table. Feeling his hands, the woman screamed with renewed vigor and tried to kick away from him.
“Her legs!”
Kyle responded by pouncing on the injured woman’s feet and pinning them at least for the moment in place. Blood was now flowing freely down the table, the wound on the thigh still wedged open by Anna’s forceps.
“Kyle, the suture!” Anna shouted.
Kyle looked down out Anna’s tools, now spread across the floor in a pool of alcohol, and spotted the curved suture needle tied with a length of dental floss. He tried to reach for it, but the moment he took his hand from the woman’s feet, she began to kick again.
“Fucking tie her down if you need to!”
Kyle glanced around again, looking for anything he could use to tie the woman’s legs. After not seeing anything in easy reach, he reached inside of his apron and after a little effort managed to pull off his belt. He quickly wrapped the leather belt around the patient’s legs and then clasped it down tightly. He stepped back, waiting a moment to see if it would hold and when it did he bent down and scooped up the suture. Kyle stepped over and handed the needle and thread to A
nna.
“Sterilize it again,” she shouted at him.
“But It landed in a pool of Alcohol!” he protested.
“Fucking sterilize it again!”
Still gripping the needle, Kyle cursed under his breath and then ran to the corner of the room he retrieved the bottle of alcohol and gave the suture a quick dousing. He then ran back to Anna and handed over the needle, which this time she accepted. Taking the needle from him, Anna ordered, “Here, hold her knees.”
Kyle switched places with his pregnant wife, throwing himself down across the struggling patient’s knees. Anna pulled the trapped forceps from the wound and squeezing the bloody edges together tightly began to quickly stitch it shut. The woman continued to scream, her cries guttural senseless things, but her struggling slowed. Kyle wondered if it was from the blood loss or perhaps if she had just tired herself out. Anna completed the suture, pulling the last knot tight and sealing the wound. At nearly the same time the injured woman stopped struggling entirely, her body going limp.
“Is she dead?” the Black Jacket asked.
As if in reply, the woman let out a deep snore.
“No, just unconscious,” Kyle replied.
The Black Jacket looked like he may be sick at any moment. Kyle grinned, he doubted the young man had ever dreamed his duties would include surgical assistant when he joined the street gang. Then Kyle turned to look at Anna, and his grin vanished. Anna’s face looked pale and held a blank expression, her eyes fixed on the ceiling for a moment, as if trying to remember something important. One of her hands rested on her swollen stomach, the other reached out as if to grab the edge of the table, but missed, and Anna pitched forward. Without a thought Kyle threw himself at her, sliding across the bloody floor, and just managing to half catch her as she fell, her head narrowly missing the edge of the table.
“Anna!” Kyle pleaded.
He cradled his unconscious wife, for the moment just happy that she was still breathing.
“What in the fuck is all this about?” shouted a gruff voice.
Kyle looked up and found Gabriel standing in the doorway, accompanied by his Black Jacket escort. The old man gestured from the woman on the table and then down to Anna.
The Road North Page 1