Wild Bill Stern approaches us as we watch the ambulance pull away. “We’re splitting you up. Sky, you’ll go with Rob Townsend and his group. Jewel, you’re with Dan Jones’s group, Storm is with Hunter Smith and you’re with me, Pax.
The men Bill mentions are members of the tribal council. Rob is the pharmacist and leader of the Paint Clan. Dan owns Blue Mountain Construction and leads the Blue Clan. Hunter runs the hunting shop and heads up the mixed martial arts dojo where Storm trains. He’s the leader of the Deer Clan. Bill Stern heads up the Wild Potato Clan. I think it’s fitting that he owns the grocery store.
I tap my wristband. Let’s keep the link open. We can keep our folks informed, too. Everyone agrees and we follow our groups to the vehicles. I ride with Wild Bill in his enormous truck with oversized tires.
“We’re going downriver. If anyone got swept up in the flood, that’s where we’ll find them. Pray we find living survivors.” I send up a quick prayer. I am not looking forward to this.
We don’t speak any more until we get to the staging area where we split up into teams. Some teams head farther upstream and Bill and I go downstream toward a swirling morass where two creeks have overflowed and run into each other. Broken trees and the splintered remains of cabins mixed with oil and trash, shift and eddy in the current. It’s impossible to see into the muddy mess.
I let my scent guard down, sniff and immediately wish I hadn’t. Nothing is worse than the smell of a corpse; even a recently deceased one. I follow my nose and point to a bank where I spot a pale hand sticking up through the mud. It’s no wonder cadaver dogs get depressed.
Bill uses a trowel to dig around the body until he finds the face. The way his mouth turns down and his eyes grow sad it’s obvious that it’s someone he knows. He calls it in and marks the spot next to the body with a circle of bright yellow spray paint.
We move farther downstream and I sniff the air, hoping to get a whiff of someone alive. I find a boy and girl hugging each other and shivering on a tiny island near solid ground, but not close enough for them to cross. He looks to be about ten and she’s even younger.
“Where are your folks?” Bill shouts. The boy shrugs and shakes his head. They must have been separated. I hope the body we found isn’t their father.
I wrap a rope around my waist and Bill ties the other end to the tree. Thanks, Mom, for making me wear my waders.
I’ll let her know you said that, Sky answers.
I nearly trip and fall into the sludge, but manage to push through. The little girl climbs up on my back, wraps her legs around my waist and her arms a little too tightly around my throat. Her brother’s eyes are so wide with fear I’m afraid they might pop out of his head. He nods when I tell him to wait. “I’ll be right back for you. I promise.”
It takes several minutes to fight my way back to shore where I hand the girl over to Bill. He quickly wraps her in a survival blanket. By the time I get back to the island, her brother is shivering so much I’m afraid his teeth will shatter. He manages to climb onto my back and hold on long enough for me to get him to safety. Instead of taking the blanket Bill offers him, he snuggles in with his sister. Bill calls for a backup team on his radio and we wait. I sit next to the kids and pull them into a hug. After a while, their shivering slows and they greedily accept the water and granola bars Bill hands them.
A deputy comes to get us, driving Bill’s truck. The giant tires give it better traction than the police SUVs. I climb into the back seat with the kids and Bill turns up the heat. Then he and the deputy go dig out the body, lay it in the bed and cover it with a tarp.
By the end of the day, six bodies have been found, eighteen people are still missing, and dozens of families are homeless. Every muscle in my body aches; especially my heart.
FORTY
JEWEL
“Lady, I’m hungwy,” a child’s voice drags me out of a dreamless sleep. Child? I sit up and nearly fall out of the narrow cot I’m in and wish I could stuff the sudden memories back into the dark. Floods, pain, blood, broken bones, cracked heads, fading auras and dying animals; it’s all too much and my eyes fill with tears. I feel a tug on the blanket and stare into the face of a little girl no more than three years old, with pleading eyes and a thumb in her mouth. I wipe my hands over my face, stand up and remember that I went to bed fully clothed so as not to waste time this morning. Sky did the same. She’s asleep in the cot next to mine. On the other side of Dad’s office, the boys’ cots are empty. They were asleep when I tumbled into mine last night. They must have left before daybreak this morning. Six more cots are lined up in the spacious office; most of them empty but obviously slept in.
“Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you some breakfast.” We go upstairs to the kitchen and I turn her over to her mom who’s busy scrambling eggs. All of the furniture is pushed against the walls to leave room for cots in the middle. Our house has been turned into a triage and treatment center until the injured can be taken to area hospitals. The medical experts who were able to get here, including Sequoia, are staying in my bedroom and the guest rooms. Mom didn’t want to separate families, so the children of many of the injured are here, too. Some of the kids are also in need of medical treatment.
Dylan and Coral have opened their home to the folks who aren’t injured or sick. I wish they all had access to the alien tech that protects our houses, but it might not have prevented them from being washed off the mountain.
Sequoia and a couple of doctors are talking quietly to patients. I recognize Miss Allen, our school nurse. Both Pastor John and Pastor Mike are here. I spot Marla asleep on the couch next to the cot holding Mrs. Snow. Her reptilian appearance disturbs me, so I grab a cup of coffee and go back downstairs to wake up Sky. Mom follows me down.
“We need you girls here today,” she says while Sky stretches and sits up with a yawn. “Until the weather clears and helicopters can safely land, we’re the hospital. We have basic medical supplies, but we’ll need you to tell us who’s most critical and where they’re hurt. We expect that more people will be coming in today.”
By the time we return upstairs, Marla is up, holding a plate of food on her lap. I watch her help her mother sit up and offer her something to drink. I tap my wristband for Sky and when I get her attention, I nod toward Marla.
She’s no different than we are. We’re hybrids, too. I think we should try to be her friends.
The difference is, she’s part Dracan and we’re part Allaran. How do we know what abilities she has? I don’t know if we can trust her. Sky is frowning, and I’m afraid she’s right.
Let’s give her a chance. She did say she owes us one. I don’t mention that her weak aura, scaly skin, and sharp teeth give me the creeps. I’m determined to get over it, knowing I’m the only one who can see her as she is.
Sky breaks the connection and a second later opens the link with all of us. Pax, where are you? Is Storm with you?
Storm’s with Wolf and another team and I’m back with Wild Bill. We’ve found a few more survivors. The ambulance is headed your way.
Have you found any more bodies? I ask.
No, Jewel, and I sincerely hope we don’t.
Same here, Buddy, Storm chimes in. Wolf and I are combing some of the most remote locations beyond the Dome. Haven’t found anyone yet, but we’ll keep looking until we’re reasonably sure it’s clear up here. You girls stay out of trouble in that nice dry house. If the rain doesn’t stop soon, we might need gills.
I laugh and walk over to Sequoia. “What do you need me to do?” I ask.
The morning flies by in a blur as we tend to the injured. New people come in waves as the ambulances drop them off. Sky and I team up and go from bed to bed. She picks up pain signals projected by the patients, and I find where the injury is by spots in their energy field, which appear to be muddied versions of their natural aura colors. I soon realize that the mustard-yellow streaks mark places where bones are broken.
I find a patient with a severely faded
aura over an injury. The doctor looks worried as he uncovers the wound. It looks infected and I turn away, feeling sick to my stomach. Sky sends reassurance my way until I feel better.
Marla helps the doctors by fetching bandages, splints and supplies. She knows a few of the patients and stops to encourage them. This is a side of her I’ve never seen, and I’m beginning to think we can actually be friends.
Mom and the ladies have prepared soup and sandwiches for lunch and laid it out on the breakfast counter cafeteria-style. Sky and I get lunch for those who can’t stand in line. Once everyone has been fed, we get our own lunches and take our plates downstairs for a break. Marla follows us.
Be nice to Marla, I tell Sky. She’s been really caring and helpful today.
I’ll try. I notice she isn’t saying anything out loud, which isn’t like her.
“How’s your mom?” I ask Marla.
“Why? What do you care?” she snaps, her voice as sharp as always.
Sky rolls her eyes at me. See what I mean? She is not our friend and doesn’t want to be.
It takes me a second to rein in my temper, but I know that if I were in Marla’s place, watching over my injured mother, I might be irritable too. I turn to Marla and say, “What makes you think I don’t care?”
Then Marla does the unthinkable. She apologizes. “I’m sorry, Jewel. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but it isn’t fair to you. You did save our lives, after all.”
Sky and I look at each other in disbelief, but I quickly recover.
“No problem. We’re all under a lot of stress. I’ll be glad when this is over.”
~~~~~
Throughout the afternoon, ambulances bring more injured people to us. Mom and her helpers are kept busy preparing food for the crowd. Some of the new arrivals are starving and get a bowl of nourishing soup right away. Supper is cooking in a row of crock-pots, and once again, I’m thankful for the Cherokee women.
The boys come in after dark, dragging their feet, slouched over with fatigue. They both have muddy auras and I rush to them, concerned that they’re hurt.
Their pain is on the inside, Sky assures me. They’re hungry but not injured. We haven’t heard from them since this morning, but when I ask for an update, they both shake their heads.
Not now, Jewel. Pax’s thoughts sound tired. Sky reaches for his hand. We need to get cleaned up and eat first.
Marla helps us get supper to the bedridden patients while the boys hit the showers. The front door has been opening all day and we barely notice when Sheriff Green and Max walk in. They shake the water off their jackets and remove their boots. The sheriff is warmly welcomed and Mom fixes a plate for him.
Max spots Marla on the couch with a tray of food on her lap helping her mother eat. “Hey, girl,” he shouts. She shushes him and he ignores her warning. “Have you been here all day?”
Sequoia rushes over to him and says something too quietly for me to hear. He looks like he’s about to argue with her and then thinks better of it. Instead, he turns to Marla and speaks more quietly. She has a disgusted look on her face. I wonder what she sees in him.
He suddenly grabs her hand and pulls her to her feet. She drops the food tray and yanks herself away from him.
“Leave me alone!” she hisses. Everyone in the room turns to stare at them.
Storm and Pax must have come in while our attention was on the drama. They make their way through the rows of cots, and Pax gets down to pick up the dishes and splattered food. He doesn’t say anything. Storm, on the other hand, has plenty to say.
“Max, if you can’t behave like a human being, then please leave.”
“You’re one to talk about humans, Storm,” Max replies. “You and your hybrid friends….” His words end abruptly and he covers his throat with his hands. His feet rise several inches off the floor, but Storm isn’t touching him. His face turns red, but I see that he’s breathing. I’m surprised Sheriff Green hasn’t interfered yet, and by the look on Max’s face, so is he.
“You know what I’m capable of.” Storm’s steely look belies his quiet, steady voice. “When I release you, put on your jacket and walk out of here.” At that, he lets him go.
“I’m going to get something to eat,” Max says, still defiant.
“Not here,” Storm replies.
An ambulance driver who’s finished eating offers to take Max to the Fletchers. Sheriff Green nods at his son and indicates he should go with him. Before he leaves, Max glares first at Marla and then at Storm. “This isn’t finished.”
I bring a fresh tray of food over to Marla, who looks angry enough to throw it. Her aura momentarily brightens, and I realize her reptilian appearance no longer revolts me.
I can’t see her like you can, but I’m starting to like her, Sky says in my head. I wonder if I projected my thoughts, or is she getting better at reading them?
Storm helps Mom and the ladies clean up after supper. I can see the exhaustion on my mother’s face and her aura has lost some of its brightness. I hope she and the ladies get some sleep tonight.
The four of us invite Marla to join us in the office to watch the news. We’re hoping for some good news, of course, but lately everything has been about terrible weather and disasters around the country. Still, it’s better to know what’s coming than to be ignorant of danger. The children who share our room are already asleep and we keep the volume on the television low.
*****
Breaking News: “Sustained winds of 45 miles per hour and heavy rains hampered rescue efforts throughout the Great Smoky Mountains today. Countless cabins were washed away by flooding and at least fifteen people have been reported dead so far. The number of casualties is expected to rise as rescue efforts continue.”
“The mountain slide in Blue Mountain combined with adverse weather conditions has cut the area off from surrounding hospitals. We’re getting reports in from law enforcement that several homes are being used as shelters and first aid centers. Roads are too badly damaged to allow rescue vehicles in from the outside, and all choppers are grounded until the weather clears, including our own news helicopters.
“The storm system is expected to move out early tomorrow morning. We expect clear skies and calm winds tomorrow. The change in weather should help the rescue efforts. We’ll keep you updated. - Kyle Johnson, reporting for Cherokee Nation News.”
*****
Sky, Storm, and Pax are asleep before the news is over and I turn off the TV. Marla goes back upstairs to be with her mother and I lie down, thinking my mind is too busy to sleep. I’m wrong.
FORTY-ONE
The boys are once again gone when I wake up, but Sky is still asleep. When I get to the kitchen, the sunlight streaming in through our enormous windows is a happy surprise. The thwop-thwop of helicopter blades sounds like heaven to my ears. Soon paramedics are loading the most seriously injured people onto gurneys for their ride to a real hospital.
More patients are up and able to get their own breakfast, and even those who can’t and are conscious have smiles on their faces. It is such a relief that the storm is finally over.
I step out on the porch and see several news choppers hovering over the woods. Two of the Sentinels gleam high above them, mine and Sky’s. A chopper warms up and takes off from the field in front of our house. This one carries Marla and her mother.
Sky comes outside holding two cups of coffee, and hands me one.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say to her. “Do you remember the symbols on and around the tetrahedron on Sequoia’s blanket?”
“Sure, I remember,” she answers. “What about them?”
“It doesn’t look like we’ll be busy here today. I’ll grab my laptop from my room and we can find a quiet place to look them up online. I’d love to know what they mean.”
“Can’t we just ask her?”
“She’s not here right now. We might need to know what they mean when we find the artifact, and there’s no telling when Sequoia will have time to e
xplain them to us, or if she even can.”
“Let’s do it.” Sky nods and we head to my room. I knock on the door and enter when I hear no answer. The laptop is in its case on the floor of the closet. I don’t disturb any of our guests’ items and we quickly retreat to the hallway and close the door.
“Where to?” she asks.
“Mom and Dad’s room. I don’t mind if they come in, but I’d rather not let anyone else know what we’re looking for.”
“Do you remember what they were?”
“I have a pretty good recall of shapes. Let’s start by looking up Cherokee symbols and see if we recognize any.” We plop down on my parents’ bed and open the laptop.
Sky? Jewel? Pax calls over our link. Where are you?
We’re in my parents’ room. I answer. Where are you?
Storm and I are coming back. They’re calling off the searches. It feels like we’ve covered every square inch of the county and there are no more cabins to search. The choppers will be able to see more from the air.
It’s a good thing we’re sparsely populated up here, Storm breaks in. I’m looking forward to a hot shower and a little downtime.
I don’t tell them how glad I am that they’re coming home, but Sky shoots me a look and smiles. I know she feels the same.
Our search brings up some of the symbols I recognize, but the overall patterns are different. If I remember correctly, in the middle of the tetrahedron is a circle with a cross in the center, cutting it into four equal sections. One website says it depicts the four seasons, another says it’s the four directions and yet another claims it represents fire, air, water and earth.
“I remember figures in each of the quadrants, two males and two females.”
Terra's Call (TetraSphere Book 1) Page 16