Deep Freeze: Protocol One, Book 2 (Protocol One Saga)

by Jacqueline Druga

  I set my spoon in the can and watched Tony for reaction.

  Nothing.

  It was a vain attempt to stir him.

  I was tired from the stress but wasn’t going to sleep. It was only eight PM, and it was gonna be a long night.

  Just as I started to have my one sided conversation with Tony again, I saw it.

  A reflection of light. It shined ahead in the snow and grew bigger.

  “Oh my God. I think they’re here.” I set down my soup, jumped up, grabbed my coat and hurried out the door.

  If it wasn’t Protocol One then I hoped it was someone who could help. As soon as I stepped out, I heard the loud motor sound and the scraping of metal on concrete.

  They were plowing?

  I had inched my way into the valet area and when I did, around the corner down River Road I saw the plow. They had taken the long way around and came in from behind the stadium.

  Immediately, I raced to the Humvee and turned on the lights.

  The truck turned up the driveway and stopped just before the canopied valet area. The passenger’s door opened and Spencer stepped out. I wanted to scream. They plowed their way here and certainly would plow us back home. As I raced to Spencer, I knew all would be better. Not only did Duke step out of the truck, but so did Craig.

  <><><><>

  “She did well, with what she had,” Craig said upon examination of Tony. “I brought supplies. So we’re good. I need to get as much light as I can get.”

  Spencer said, “We did bring those battery spot lights.”

  “Get them,” Craig said, “I need a clean area, and I need to brighten that up. I think he has some internal bleeding.”

  “Can you operate?” I asked.

  “I have to. What’s here, Anna? Can you find me a table? Something we can move him to, and an area to operate on that we can clean?’

  “What about the kitchen?” I asked. “The one has a grill with propane you can use for heat. The prep counter would work as a sterile environment. I can get that clean.”

  “Good thinking. We have to work fast. But one thing is important. He needs blood. Before I left, on a hunch I checked his type. B Positive. Any of you B?”

  Both Spencer and I shook our heads.

  Duke said, “I’m O.”

  “That may have to do,” Craig said. “Okay. Spence, get the lights. Dad, you and I will get the kitchen ready. Anna, can you get a hold of this woman. Maybe they have someone in their camp with B blood.”

  “I’m on it.” Before, I made the call, I asked Craig. “What do you think? What are his chances?”

  Very seriously Craig looked at me. “Let’s get that blood in him and an IV going.”

  Prior to all this, we made fun of Craig and his IV obsession, but now I was so happy he was the king of IVs.

  Hurriedly, I made my way to the Humvee and to the radio, switching to the predetermined channel. “This is Anna to Requin. Protocol help has arrived. We are in need of blood type B. If you hear this, if anyone has this blood type, please come to the casino. Tony needs your help.” I paused and then repeated the radio call. I would do so for twenty minutes. That was the plan. Hoping that someone would hear. But I didn’t have to do it the whole time. Within ten minutes, not only did Gail show up, but four others from her camp, did as well. All of them there to help Tony. All of them with type B blood.

  Fourteen – Old Habits

  When Gil began his assembly of individuals he felt were vital to keep the shelter going and for the continuation of our way of life, he put Tony in charge of finding people. Scientists, Security, Agriculture and Doctors. From the list, Gil would wean through them, looking, as Tony put it, for the least likely person I would find interest in.

  More so than qualifications of specialty Gil seemed to judge by that.

  Thank God Tony only presented him with the best.

  Craig was one of the best. He was a young man who knew what he was doing and focused on it as well. I didn’t know his full list of qualifications, but when we returned to the bunker, I had every intention of getting to know Craig better. In the six months that I knew him, I don’t believe I even knew his middle name. Where he went to school. For a brilliant man he deserved more from me.

  I realized after he operated on Tony, without a doubt, that if my son could have been saved, then Craig would have saved him.

  I wondered if when Tony chose Craig if he had an inkling Craig would save his life one day.

  Craig did.

  The surgery took hours. The low temperatures aided in slowing Tony’s rapid heart rate. Craig felt he had slipped into shock. The loss of blood contributed to that. He told me Tony had something called splenic trauma. It was an injury to the spleen from whatever had surged into his gut. He repaired what he could, doing internal sutures as well as external.

  He pumped him full of fresh blood and intravenous fluids. Tony’s heart rate normalized, and while far from out of the woods, Tony was better.

  “We can’t move him. Not yet,” Craig said. “A couple days and we can try. The less we move him the better off he is. I’m still not sure if I have to completely remove the spleen or not. I don’t have a CT scan. For now, I think the bleeding stopped.”

  “What about the head injury?” I asked.

  “Again, without a CT scan, it’s hard to say. Rest will tell us everything.”

  “So we stay put and make the best of it?”

  That was when Duke interjected. “I’d like to sight see.”

  Spencer added. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to finish what you guys came here for. Scan the area, and see who is remaining.”

  He was right. Not only would it be something to do, I would be able to do so without my primary focus being on Tony. We would truly be able to assess the area.

  <><><><>

  As evening really settled in, it was different than the night before. I wasn’t alone, and that made it a much more curious environment.

  We gently moved Tony to the bed we made by the main doors and Craig stayed with him. Duke found and made another source of heat and started a meal for us, while Spencer and I explored.

  “Do you think,” I said to Spencer, “There will ever be places like this again?”

  “Casinos? Well … I think it’s going to be a while. At least places like this.”

  “And Vegas.”

  “God I loved Vegas.” He paused, flashing his light on a dark slot machine. It was one of those video slots, and Spencer stared at it almost longingly. “This was my favorite to play.” He ran his hand over the buttons. “We would take rides to the Casino in Erie. Stay the night. It was a fun time. But that casino was geared mainly for horse racing lovers and older folks. This one …” He peered round and whistled. “…was for the young.”

  “Were you ever here?’

  “Oh, sure. Over here.” He walked over to where we had gotten the couch cushions for Tony. “This place was the big night spot down here.” He tilted back his head. “Can’t tell it now, but this whole pillar lit up.” He walked behind the bar.

  He set his light down on the bar and bent down. I listened as he cracked up the cabinet. Before he emerged into view a bottle of bourbon set on the bar, followed by two glasses.

  He blew into them. “Drink?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Spencer poured us a hefty drink, capped the bottle and placed it in the front pocket of his coat.

  “Is there any more of the good stuff?”

  He looked down. “A few bottles. Why?”

  “We should take a few. In fact, pull them out … I’ll be right back.”

  We weren’t far from where I kept the bags. I walked over to that way, informed Duke we’d be back, grabbed the empty Arctic Armor duffle, and took it to Spencer.

  “How many do you want me to take?”

  “A few, we can load them in the Humvee,” I told him.

  “Any reason why we’re foraging?”

  The use of the word foraging made me
pause. “That is what I’m doing, isn’t it?’

  He nodded.

  “Maybe for things we won’t have in the future. I don’t know. I realize there’s a big country out there. But I am sure a lot of survivors got to things and a lot of things went bad.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Before he placed the bottle in the bag, I swept up duffle. “Just lay them on the bar. There is something I need to get.”

  Spencer muttered out a “what the heck’ but I didn’t answer. There was a short hallway next to the lounge. It had the ATM’s and next to them was the large cigarette machine. The glass was blackened over and I wasn’t sure what condition those packs would be in.

  I kicked the glass with my foot and it did nothing but shake the machine. “Really?” I spoke out loud, looked around and saw an ashtray. The top was metal and I lifted it. Stepping back I gave it all I got and hurled that thing at the machine.

  It cracked the glass, but didn’t shatter,

  At the point of my frustration, thinking of another way, Spencer approached, inched me aside and with the butt of his rifle and the right amount of pressure, he hit that machine and shattered the glass.

  “I weakened it for you,” I said.

  He laughed. “You did. Saw a little crack. Wanna tell me why you wanted in this case so bad?”

  “Aside from the fact that fuck it, I want a smoke, Nelly will love this.”

  “They may be pretty skunked.”

  “They may. It’s been twenty years since I smoked, I may or may not notice, and I don’t think Nelly will care. I think she’s on the last of her stash.”

  Using his gloved hand, Spencer cleared the glass. Ten rows of cigarettes, eight across. Some were ten packs deep. We hit the nicotine gold mine.

  The day before the only two items I noticed were present in that casino, were the cigarettes and booze. With Spencer, Duke and Craig around, I was able to appreciate it more and decided to take advantage of the time and search around. I was certain the untouched Casino offered more treasures other than just ones that weren’t all that good for me.

  <><><><>

  Staring down to the burning orange end of the cigarette, I laughed softly thinking again about the case of tiny fruit drink boxes we found in the storage room behind the kitchen. Why would a casino have drink boxes was one question I had on my mind, until Spencer pointed out they were six ounce boxes of wine. Cute little things complete with straws.

  Peter was going to love them.

  I felt as if we went souvenir shopping in the casino, we had found so much. The back end of the Humvee would be packed by the time we left home. In the gift shop I found a cute little tee shirt for Joie and I grabbed books and stuffed animals for her and the other kids.

  There were still a few more days of item gathering.

  We sat around the kettle fire, a slight breeze kept blowing in through our open door. My cup of tea warmed on the grate and using my sleeve as an oven mitt, I removed it from the grate, added some bourbon, took a sip then hit my cigarette.

  Granted I thought it was stale, but I grew used to it.

  “Why are you smoking?” Craig asked.

  “Because I want to. Please don’t tell me you are getting on me about it affecting my health.”

  “Anna, I have to. I’m the doctor.” Craig said. “And that is your third since dinner. Not to mention you are killing that bottle of bourbon.”

  “Oh my God, Craig,” I said with a hint of disbelief. “I’m Anna by the book. The smoking will not be a habit I keep. Being alone was very tense. You guys are here, I’m relaxing. The nicotine is giving me a little high.”

  “Let her smoke,” Duke said then held out his hand. “I’ll take one.”

  “Dad!” Craig scolded. “You will get back in the habit, I know you.”

  “Who cares?” Duke took the smoke.

  “Might as well give me one.” Spencer said.

  “No.” Craig tried to intercept, but I was faster. Craig waved a finger. “I have to get angry. You have a health condition.”

  Spencer lit the cigarette and coughed. “You think these are gonna hurt me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I got news for you Doc,” Spencer winked. “My Parkinson’s will kill me long before these get a chance to.”

  “I give up.” Craig tossed out his hands. “Lost cause. Give me one.”

  We all laughed. It wasn’t like we were all taking up the habit again, it was just something to do. New rules in a new world, I suppose.

  Craig choked and coughed a lot when he lit up. His father told him it wasn’t marijuana and to quit smoking it like it was.

  Our fine Doc was a recreational marijuana user? No way. We had just started hearing stories about Craig as a teenager when another cough began.

  This one was from Tony.

  “Oh my God,” Tony groaned. “Did I have a bender and wake up in the staircase with Nelly or did you all take up smoking.”

  I shrieked with excitement and raced over to his bedding behind Craig. It was the first he spoke a full sentence since I last saw him. “Tony,” I ran my hand down his face. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I had a bender and I’m in Nelly’s room.” He said. His eyes only opened partially. “My head is pounding. I mean really pounding. If anything else hurts, I can’t tell. Why are you smoking?”

  “Something to do. We found them.”

  “Save some for Nelly. I’m sure she needs them after caring for Joie.”

  “We have three hundred and twenty two packs for Nelly.”

  “Swell.” He closed his eyes.

  Craig inched over. “May I?” he asked.

  “Absolutely.” I leaned down and kissed Tony before I let Craig do his examining thing.

  I felt so much better at that moment. All the tension in my body from the last two days suddenly vanished.

  Tony was awake. He looked better and sounded better. Plus, he was lucid.

  I knew that Craig was worried about Tony not waking and if he did, would he know anything. That still remained to be seen, whether Tony was aware of what happened. His waking was hopeful.

  Before I realized and enjoyed another drink, that one celebratory, I raced to the Humvee to finally deliver them some good news.

  Things were looking up.

  FIFTEEN – INVITATION

  March 5

  “There’s a joke about Pittsburgh,” Spencer said. “They have two seasons, summer and winter. Things can change on a dime.”

  How right he was. We went from the day they arrived, over two feet of snow, to just a couple days later, the sun was shining so brightly, the plowed path just outside the casino began to melt. Weather wasn’t the hold up going home. It was Craig and Tony. Craig wouldn’t let Tony leave. Not yet.

  A part of me agreed. I think Joie needed to see her father somewhat healed instead of arriving on his back headed to bed rest.

  Physical he wasn’t a hundred percent, but personality wise, Tony was back to normal. Once he started lecturing me about trusting people, I knew his road to recovery was in progress.

  The previous night I asked him. “Do you remember what happened?”

  It was a question none of us broached. Especially since Craig told us head injury victims often don’t recall the event and hours prior. It could take days, weeks, even years.

  “I remember thinking the girl was going through the casino, the guy driving around,” Tony said, “I didn’t think it through. I just didn’t want us stranded.”

  Duke chuckled. “Well that failed.”

  “No,” Spencer said. “He got the Humvee back. Painfully, but he did.”

  “Guys,” I scolded, silencing the two men in their ribbing of him. “Go on, Tony.”

  “I’m sorry, Anna, I am. I didn’t think, I really didn’t. I just knew I could catch them. I was right.”

  “So you remember?”

  Tony nodded. “I do. Well not the accident. I remember coming around the corner and seeing h
er. She ran as soon as she saw me, but I caught her and when I did, I saw she was a kid. No older than eighteen. I told her I didn’t want to hurt them, I just wanted my truck back and to take me where she was meeting him. I saw the Humvee and that was it.”

  “They were young,” I said. “The driver accidently hit you. The girl was killed. He took you to a nearby shelter they tried to help you, and when you woke up you came here.”

  “Really?” Tony squinted. “I only remember waking up here. Are you sure?”

  “Um I am very sure. You were not here for an entire day.”

  There was a level of disbelief in Tony as if I was the one misled. But I knew and let it go.

  Pittsburgh was slated for four scouting trips. Spencer, Duke and I did a lot of canvassing with the help of Larry.

  We never crossed the river though and Larry was certain there were a few that remained in the center city, plus he believed a couple on the outskirts.

  He told us, “If you would have seen the southern exodus when the sun came out and the temperatures rose, you wouldn’t believe how many survived.”

  I liked that thought; it gave me hope for the future.

  All in all, on the north side of town, we counted one hundred and eighty survivors in total from nine camps that we found. That was far too many to take, but we made sure we spoke with each of them about the plan to build and expand.

  They would be needed at the new camps.

  So many had skills that could be put to use.

  I did however extend the invite to Larry, Gail and the kids to come along. He declined. I even offered again as he helped get us ready to leave.

  “I’ll pass,” Larry replied. “We even discussed it again last night. No, we’ll wait until you are ready to build those communities. Weather will break, we’ll feel useful.”

  “I appreciate all that you have done for me,” I said.

  “Gail said to give you this.” He handed me a small sack. “It’s that fruit tea you like.”

  I don’t know why but that made me well up. It was a sweet gesture. They knew where we were going, what we had, and they still offered and gave some of what they had.