Windburn

by Kenny Soward

  Sara had to admit the woman was a genius when it came to end-of-the-world cooking, and she’d even shooed Sara out of the kitchen when she’d tried to help, which was fine by Sara. She still felt weak from giving blood, plus the drain on her emotions over the past few days had left her feeling ragged. Thankfully, after a few hours of sleep, putting Zoe to bed, and doing a quick check on Todd, Sara was starting to feel somewhat normal again.

  “I need to relieve Dion soon.” Sara sat back and patted her stomach, feeling tired all over again. “I feel bad enough him having to go straight into his shift after this morning, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

  “Don’t worry about him,” Natasha said. “I sat him on the front porch with his new revolver toy and bundled him up nice and warm. Filled him with some fluids and checked on him every thirty minutes.”

  “I appreciate that,” Sara said. “But Dion must feel like a zombie. We need to get our schedules back on track, starting tomorrow.”

  “We will,” Natasha assured her as she swept the plates off the table and took them to the sink. She used a sparing amount of rainwater they’d saved in a bucket to rinse them off and set them in a rack to dry. “Things will get back to normal before you can blink.”

  “With all due respect to you, Natasha,” Barbara said as the nurse turned around and put a hand on her hip. “Things won’t be getting back to normal any time soon. You only saw a piece of what’s going on out there.”

  “By all means, fill us in.” Natasha’s tone was sassy.

  “Sara saw it this morning at the urgent care,” Barbara said, her eyes moving back and forth between Natasha and Sara. “The locals are going crazy without power and no real food supplies. The floods have taken away a lot of homes. Thousands of people have resorted to violence. And the Good Folk are tracking a group of foreigners who are stirring things up and making a tough situation worse.”

  “Mike mentioned that in one of his emails to me,” Sara confirmed. “What exactly do you mean by foreigners?”

  “Well, they dress like regular Tennessee folks, but they ain’t. Some people are saying it’s North Koreans, others think it’s Russians. One thing is for sure: they don’t belong here. They’re trained and well-armed, and we lost four or five good people trying to stop them.”

  “What do they want here in Tennessee?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Barbara shrugged. “We’re pretty sure they blew up the Douglas Dam and blacked-out the whole valley on top of killing a few thousand people with the subsequent flooding. Some say there are other groups spread all over the country, causing some kind of havoc.”

  “Sounds like what we saw on the news before the Cosmic Link connection went dead,” Sara said. “Planes going down. Hits to the trucking industry, and the stock markets crashing.”

  “I didn’t know about the financial crisis.” Barbara pursed her lips as if she had a million dollars’ worth of investments to be concerned about, an expression that made her look infinitely older than her seventeen years. “It makes sense. Total hysteria spreading across the country, and that’s why we haven’t gotten any real help from the military.”

  “They’re out east dealing with the storms,” Sara nodded, thinking of Jake. “And I hope they help my husband get home.”

  Barbara mulled over Sara’s words before her eyes lifted. “There might not be a home for him to come home to unless you put together a plan to defend the mountain.”

  “What do you mean? We’ve got a small army up here. Emphasis on small.”

  “Sure, you’ve got a few guns, some tired people, and some cameras, but that won’t be enough if someone who means you harm takes a wrong turn up this road. You need more defenses, Sara.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Sara nodded, unwilling to let some young woman make her feel inferior, no matter how tall and statuesque she was. “And I was just about to do that before Todd decided to go chasing bad guys around the Tennessee Valley.”

  Barbara didn’t look away, and she didn’t make excuses for Todd either.

  “Now we’ve got to get back to the defense of the hill,” Sara continued, “and I’ve got some ideas on what to do.”

  Barbara nodded, and Natasha looked back and forth between the two women with a degree of uncertainty, seeming to sense the slight tension between them. Then the front door opened, and someone came in and stomped their boots on the floor.

  “Hey, babe.” Natasha walked around the table past Barbara and padded to the front door. She helped Dion remove his boots and his rain poncho and then guided him back into the kitchen. Dion gave Barbara and Sara a tired smile as he sat down with his back to the living room, bringing the scents of rain and wild forest with him.

  Sara leaned over and patted his arm. “How are you doing, Dion?”

  “I could fall asleep right here,” Dion said, wavering in his chair.

  “I want him to eat and drink first.” Natasha brought over a plate full of stir-fried rice and passed it over to Dion. The plate was piled high with a double portion, and Sara was more than fine with that. Dion hadn’t fought much down at Trailmarker’s, yet his help with Todd’s rescue and continued support of Sara and her family was more valuable than anything. The man deserved it.

  At first, Dion picked at his food before his hunger kicked in and he began shoveling the steaming rice and chicken into his mouth by the forkful, looking up apologetically from his plate.

  “That’s good,” Natasha said. “Eat up.”

  “You didn’t have to keep watch right away,” Sara told Dion. “You could have just come inside and slept.”

  “Oh, I fell asleep fifteen minutes after you did,” Dion assured her, talking around his food. “I was basically like a scarecrow sitting there on the porch. Natasha had to wake me up a few times.”

  “Speaking of sleeping arrangements,” Natasha said. “With Tex recovering in the master bedroom, and Todd upstairs, we’re going to have to rethink how we set up.”

  “That’ll be part of rearranging things for defense.” Sara was thinking hard, Barbara’s words having sparked a new flame inside her. The young woman was right, and Sara realized how lucky they were to have avoided an attack by a large group. She’d seen the potential for thuggery firsthand this morning, and she wanted to be prepared. “I was thinking we should commandeer the first two sets of cabins on the mountain. We form a defensive barrier on the road—”

  “A gate,” Barbara interrupted.

  “—a gate. Do you know how to make one?”

  “I grew up on a farm,” Barbara responded flatly. “If there was ever a gap in the fence, we’d fill it. I’ve built gates and fences before, albeit small ones. That said, I reckon I could make a bigger one.”

  “Good,” Sara said with a nod. “And I figure we keep the wounded down in the cabins. There are at least twenty-four beds in all, although it will be bare-bones living. That would give us a consistent presence farther down the hill.”

  “We can place a guard by the gate with a radio and a weapon,” Dion added. “They can hold off anyone coming up the road and buy us some time in case they’re hostile.”

  “Can you work with Todd on a layout for the gate?” Sara asked Barbara, feeling her enthusiasm returning. “It would need to be something we can open and close quickly, yet large enough to keep a vehicle from getting through. I mean, if you think you’ll have time before your people come to get you.”

  “If Todd’s up to it, I’ll leave him with something he can use.” Barbara’s tone lifted, seemingly pleased that Sara had even asked.

  “That’s settled then.” Sara got up from the table. “Consider me on shift, Dion, and get some real sleep. You might have to take the couch until we get the sleeping arrangements figured out.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Dion said, barely keeping his eyes open as he struggled to finish his plate of food.

  “Tash, I was hoping you could give me the rundown on Tex’s condition.”

  “Sure,” Natasha
replied, turning off the stove burners and leading Sara into the master bedroom. Sara stopped at the foot of the bed while Natasha went immediately to Tex’s bedside.

  From what Sara could see, the man was resting comfortably, and his color had returned. His breathing was deeper, and his face was a fraction less gaunt.

  “He looks a lot more alive than this morning.”

  “The new blood made a huge difference in his condition,” Natasha confirmed, hooking up a blood pressure cuff to him and quickly taking his readings. “His blood pressure and pulse rate are much stronger. Now, if he can just avoid infection, he’ll be okay.”

  Natasha stepped back and sat down in a chair she’d pulled up nearby. She yawned and looked at the digital clock she kept on the nightstand. “It’s about time for his dressings to be changed.”

  “Let me do it.” Sara came around the bed with a serious expression.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. We can’t let you have all the fun. Besides, I need to learn, and you need to get some sleep yourself. You’ve been up since this morning, taking care of everyone.”

  “I am truly exhausted,” Natasha admitted, then she stood and moved to the bedside next to Sara. She grabbed some gauze and a large bandage from the nightstand and set it near Tex’s head. After pulling down the blanket from Tex’s chin to expose his bare chest, she indicated the wound. “There’s really not much to it. You just want to make sure to check for any sign of infection.”

  The bandage covering the entry wound on Tex’s right side was only slightly stained, and when Natasha pulled it gently from his skin, Sara leaned in and inspected the perfectly sutured wound. A slight amount of blood oozed from beneath the stitches, and Natasha dabbed it away with a piece of gauze soaked in saline.

  She held the slightly stained gauze up for Sara to see. “A little blood is fine, as long as you can tell there’s no infection.”

  “Got it.”

  Natasha placed a two-inch piece of gauze on Tex’s stomach and squeezed a bit of antibacterial ointment on it from a tube. Using a Q-Tip, she spread the ointment around and then placed it on Tex’s wound, ointment side down. Finally, the nurse took an adhesive pad from its package and pressed it firmly over the wound, making sure the sticky sides adhered to Tex’s skin.

  “Ta-da.” Natasha gestured in mock fanfare and smiled over-exaggeratedly.

  “Wonderful, Nurse Gardiner. Now for the exit wound?”

  “That’s right. Can you help me flip him?”

  “No problem.” Sara went around to the other side of the bed like she’d seen Todd do when they brought Tex in, and together the two women flipped Tex onto his left side.

  “Now this one is going to give us a little more trouble,” Natasha said, allowing Sara to hold Tex in place while she got more bandages. “It’s just a bigger wound, and in a bad spot. If he wakes up on your shift, try to get him to sit up or stay on his side like this. It might keep the blood from draining down.”

  “I can do that,” Sara said as she watched Natasha clean and dress the second wound, which was slightly more bloody but devoid of infection.

  “And if you don’t have anyone to help you keep him on his side, just roll him onto his stomach. Make sure he can breathe, that sort of thing.”

  “I think I can manage that,” Sara nodded, confidently. “How long before his dressings need to be changed again?”

  “Check back in a few hours. If the bandages are stained, then go ahead and change them.”

  “Got it,” Sara said as the two women gently laid Tex on his back. The man snorted and groaned, causing Sara to hold her breath for a moment thinking he might suddenly wake up.

  “That’s a good sign,” Natasha said, taking a small cup of water from the nightstand and holding it to Tex’s lips. The liquid ran across his top lip and down his chin, though he gave no indication of waking up. “He’s going to come around eventually. Try to give him some water every thirty or forty-five minutes. When he’s thirsty enough, he’ll wake up.”

  Sara looked at Tex and then at the stack of dressings on the nightstand. She clasped her hands together confidently. “I’ve got it.”

  Chapter 11

  Rita, St. Louis, Missouri

  Rita walked down the street at a brisk pace, hoping to get to the meals center before it got too dark. Ever since she’d first tried to get money out of the ATM and failed, her family had been living meal to meal. So, a successful trip meant life or death for them. Well, maybe things hadn’t gotten that bad, though they were close enough.

  She hardly glanced up as she passed people. No smile, no hello, or even a simple nod. She knew by now that almost everyone was on edge about everything, and a simple gesture could get you into a fight.

  At least the streets had quieted down after the first food riots. The National Guard and Army Reserves had quickly gotten the mobs under control and then seized all the energy suppliers, food warehouses, and grocery stores before the gangs could, distributing the necessities themselves at a rationed rate to keep the city from falling into total chaos.

  While the military action seemed like something out of a dystopian nightmare, Rita was thankful they’d done it. Her family would have starved without them or froze to death in the increasingly cold weather. The only problem was that she had a handful of repayment slips to take care of once everything calmed down and no way to pay them.

  Rita had tried going to work for a while, although it had only been as a courtesy to her boss. Without any guarantee of a paycheck—or an account to put it in—Rita had stopped going, and she assumed everyone else did, too.

  Back home, Bobby Junior was guarding the house and his sisters with the shotgun her late husband, Steve, had left them, although the boy had never fired the thing. It was all they had in the way of protection. The shotgun, and their courage.

  Rita’s family, her entire support group, was back in New Mexico, and she couldn’t reach them due to the spotty cell phone service lately. Her last text from her sister had been days ago, and the thought of packing up the kids into the car and heading south had already crossed Rita’s mind a dozen times. She had no real reason to stay in St. Louis except for the material goods they’d accumulated, and the children’s attachment to their schoolmates.

  With the edges of society starting to fray, it might be time to take drastic measures.

  A shiver crept up her spine as she turned a corner and saw the big, blaring lights of the distribution center up ahead. Some folks were exiting the supply area with their assigned rations, ferreting them away like bars of gold back to their apartments or homes. Rita angled toward the end of the processing line, which was a quarter of a mile long. It would have normally been daunting, but she’d learned to dress accordingly, bundled in a thick coat and an extra pair of socks. And she always had a book queued up on her iPhone to read.

  Rita picked up her pace and dropped in line behind a young couple with a small child. The mother caught her staring at their daughter, and Rita smiled in a friendly manner, unable to help herself and not expecting the gesture to be returned. Surprisingly, the woman smiled back before she turned to her husband.

  The simple gesture gave Rita a strange feeling of safety and satisfaction, knowing someone friendly was nearby, and she dug into her book with enthusiasm.

  Four hours later, Rita left the meal center with two bags of groceries, another repayment ticket in her back pocket, and a smile on her face.

  She walked briskly up the street, hoping to cover the three miles back to their subdivision in record time. And there was a spring in her step and joy in her heart. Not only had the woman in line smiled at her, but the soldiers had been friendly as they handed out enough food for Rita and her four kids to last them one week. She ignored the growing tension in their eyes as they went about their duties.

  Rita had her groceries, and that’s all that mattered. Her kids would eat tonight, although she would have to watch Bobby Junior, who often got into the b
read and butter when she wasn’t looking. No, Rita would have to be very careful in her rationing to ensure the food stretched a full week.

  If she couldn’t make it last, they’d go hungry for a day or two, and that kind of thing could add up after a while. Rita twisted her head in thought as she cut down a side lane, leaning into a gust of cool wind.

  Maybe she could barter some of her late husband’s tools for some extra supplies and save up for the trip back home like she’d planned. Their Honda was safely locked away in the garage with three-quarters of a tank of gas, and she wasn’t going to waste it on trips to the meal center.

  If they made it to Albuquerque, she could probably even find work, unless things were just as bad there. At least she’d have her family. Of course, Rita would do whatever she could to pay her repayment tickets to the government, although she suspected many likely would not. She imagined thousands of people tearing up their repayment tickets as easily as they did parking tickets, and it made her giggle.

  It was only when she heard a scratch of shoes on concrete that she looked up.

  A fist slammed into Rita’s face, filling her head with stars and knocking her backwards. She barely remembered hitting the ground, though she must have because the next thing she knew she was staring up into the sky. Her mouth filled with a tangy, coppery taste, and her cheeks felt numb.

  A man’s face came into view. He was speaking to Rita, although she couldn’t make out the words. All she could think about were her groceries and getting them back to her family. They’d planned on making egg sandwiches with cheese that night, but she had a sinking feeling the coveted dinner might not happen.

  “…you hear me? C’mon, dummy. Wake up.”

  Shaking her head, Rita rose up on her elbows, spitting blood out of her mouth as her head began to clear. She looked around to see that her groceries were scattered across the ground, although a teenaged girl was picking them up and putting them back into their bags.