“What about my friend Sarah?”
“What about her?”
“What did the surgeons decide to do?”
“They’re transporting her to Wilford Hall. Her husband is helping her to get some things together, and we’re taking them both with us. We’re leaving in about an hour or so.”
“What are they going to do with her?”
“They’re going to remove a section of her skull. That will give some relief to her swollen brain and allow them to get a good look at it to see if there’s any permanent damage, or any clotting they’ll need to remove. It’ll also relieve the tremendous pressure on the brain and prevent any further damage.”
“How long will she be that way?”
“Hard to say. That’s not my specialty. My understanding is that it might take a week or two for the swelling to go down enough to put the skull back in place.”
“And she’ll be awake the whole time?”
“No. They’ll have to put her to sleep. They’ll put her into a medically-induced coma.”
-22-
Bryan walked dejectedly down the main hallway of the big house, toward the exit door. He looked to be in more or less the same mood he’d been in when he came back with Bryan Too and Brad a few hours before.
This time he carried a small black suitcase in his left hand. On his right arm was a still dazed and confused Sarah.
Sarah still felt like a fish out of water. She hadn’t left her apartment since she arrived, taking her meals at her bedside or on the living room couch. Her husband had been at her side almost every moment, except for earlier that morning when he’d gone out with his friends for a couple of hours. When he returned he was distant and moody, and didn’t mention where they’d gone or what they’d done.
Several of the other residents had come by since her arrival, to cheer her up and let her know they were there for her. One of them, Sami, had brought several digital photos of Sarah doing various things around the compound with Bryan and the others.
It was unmistakably her, although she had to ask constantly who the others were in the photos.
It turned out that Bryan was telling her the truth after all. And despite the fact he’d beaten Nathan severely, he seemed a genuinely nice man who truly cared for her.
But she still didn’t know him from Adam. Didn’t know any of them. Why did the photos look alien to her? Why did this whole… place, seem unfamiliar? Why couldn’t she remember?
She had accepted what everyone was telling her now, that she was one of them and had been kidnapped. But the whole thing was hard to wrap her arms around. The loss of her memory. The fact that she’d been taken advantage of by her kidnapper who convinced her they were happily married.
The fact that she’d been repeatedly raped and forced to do all manner of other disgusting things to him.
The doctors coming had only made things worse. They won her trust. They obviously knew what they were talking about. They spoke with great knowledge and confidence. They’d reassured her and told her the procedure could only help her. To delay it could make things very much worse.
She’d agreed to go with them, and let the stranger she knew as Bryan accompany her.
As for the rest of them… the strangers lining the hallway to say goodbye and to hug her and wish her well? She felt no closer to them than she did to the doctors.
She turned back to the group of strange faces just before she walked out the door with Bryan and the medical team and managed a weak smile.
“Thank you” was all she could say.
It was a start. As the group disappeared through the door several of the women who’d been holding back tears started crying openly. They didn’t want this Sarah, who seemed so distant and confused.
They wanted their old Sarah back.
Most in the crowd knew the details of Sarah’s captivity and recovery. Most of them, except for the children, knew that Bryan and the others had captured the kidnapper and brought him back to the compound, where he’d spent a restless and miserable night tied up in the bed of a pickup outside the gate.
The rumors had been circulating all morning. That Bryan and a couple of the other men had taken the man somewhere. That they’d come back without him and kept to themselves. And that they’d told no one where they went or what happened there.
No one knew where they’d taken the man. Most assumed they’d turned him over to the authorities to stand trial.
Some hoped they’d just dumped him somewhere, still hog-tied, to die a slow and miserable death from dehydration.
The more optimistic prayed that the men had done the right thing and turned the man in.
The less so wished him a speedy journey into the fiery pits of hell.
As Bryan and Sarah passed by the pickup truck she looked at it, wondering what had become of the man who’d been tied up in the back.
But she didn’t ask Bryan. None of them would.
-23-
“Mommy…”
Hannah hoped she was dreaming.
“Mommy…”
She wasn’t.
“Mommy…”
She opened one sleepy eye.
“Oh hi, Mommy. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
She scooted back on the bed and lifted the covers. Little Markie crawled in and snuggled next to her. He was cold. She wrapped an arm around his little body and pulled the covers around his neck to help warm him.
“No, honey. Mommy was awake. Did you need something?”
“Nope. I was just lonely and wanted to cuddle.”
Hannah reached her free hand behind her to see if Mark was still in bed. He was there, having rolled to the far edge, and was still sleeping peacefully.
She closed her eyes and started to nod off again.
“It’s raining outside.”
Her eyes remained tightly closed as she sleepily responded.
“How do you know, little sailor?”
“‘Because I looked out my bedroom window.”
“Uh huh.”
“I like the rain.”
“Uh huh.”
“I like the way it smells, and the way it makes everything soggy.”
“Uh huh.”
“I like to run in it and get wet.”
“Uh huh.”
“But you and daddy sometimes get upset when I walk in and drip water all over the place.”
“Uh huh.”
“But I still like it. Can we go out and run in the rain, Mommy?”
“Mommy would rather keep on sleeping, sweetheart.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy. I thought you were woked up.
“Awake, honey. You thought I was awake.”
“Okay. Are you awake, Mommy? Because you sound like you’re awake, on account of you’re talking.”
“No, honey. Mommy’s still asleep. See, my eyes are still closed.”
“But how can you be talking if you’re still asleep?”
“Because Mommy is magical, sweetheart.”
“Oh. Then instead of going out in the rain can you show me some magical tricks?”
“Will you let me go back to sleep first?”
“Sure.”
Markie grew quiet and buried his little face into Hannah’s shoulder.
She was lucky in that she got almost a full two minutes of rest before he started up again.
“Daddy talks in his sleep sometimes.”
“Oh, Markie… I thought you were going to let Mommy get some more sleep.”
“Sorry, Mommy.”
He snuggled against her again.
And his words gnawed at her.
A couple of minutes later her curiosity got the best of her and she asked him, “Markie, what kinds of things does Daddy say when he talks in his sleep?”
“Oh, all kinds of things. About the fishes at the lake and about what a bonehead Uncle Bryan is, and about how you look in your red teddy. Mommy, do you have a red teddy bear? ‘Cause I haven’t seen it. I’d like to see it. Maybe
he can be friends with my brown teddy bear.”
“No, honey. I’m sorry. My red teddy bear ran away.”
He laughed.
“Mommy, don’t be silly. Teddy bears can’t run.”
“Mine could. ‘Cause he was magical, just like Mommy.”
“Are you ready to show me some magical tricks now?”
She sighed, just a little bit exasperated.
“Sure. I’ll show you a great one. But you’ll have to help.”
“Yay! What do I do?”
“All you have to do is lay here with Mommy, perfectly still and perfectly silent, for ten minutes. Do you know how long that is?”
“I think so.”
“Okay, good. That’s what you have to do for this trick to work. But you have to be perfectly still, and perfectly silent, or the trick won’t work.”
“Yay! What will happen if I can do it?”
“Then you’ll put your Mommy to sleep.”
“That’s not much of a trick, Mommy.”
“Oh, you didn’t let me finish, little sailor. If you can lay here, perfectly silent and perfectly still for ten minutes, your Mommy will fall asleep. And when I wake up, I will walk like a Frankenstein monster to the kitchen and get you a cookie.”
“Wow! Like a Frankenstein monster?”
“Yep.”
Markie lay his little head against her shoulder. Hannah relaxed and prepared to enjoy ten minutes of silence.
After five minutes she opened one eye and snuck a peek at her son, who was sound asleep and softly snoring.
Her last thought before falling back asleep herself: kids are such suckers.
-24-
An hour later those lucky enough to be in the main hallway and dining room were entertained by an amazing spectacle: Hannah, in a housecoat, walking stiffly along. Her arms were stretched out in front of her, her hands balled into fists. She dragged her feet on the floor as she went, and her upper body rocked from side to side. With each step she let out a loud grunt.
Markie walked along beside her, giggling every step of the way. For those who gazed in curious wonder, he explained.
“She’s a Frankenstein monster.”
That seemed to satisfy the curious.
Of course she was.
They went about their business, and Hannah the monster led little Markie to the kitchen, where she handed him a homemade pecan sandie from the cookie jar.
Then she magically went from monster mode back to Markie’s mom.
A deal was a deal.
“Okay, honey. Mommy’s back. You fix yourself a glass of milk and go find a table you like. I’m gonna fix me some coffee and I’ll join you in a minute. Okay?”
“Sure, Mommy.”
Hannah said hello to the women in the kitchen, and Karen tenderly hugged her.
“How are you feeling, honey?”
“Better, actually. I was worried that I might lose my foot, but the doctor told me yesterday it looks like I’ll be able to keep it after all.”
“That’s good, sweetheart. We’ve all been watching you, and we’ve been worried. It was obvious that something has been bothering you, that you were under a great deal of stress. I’m glad your doctor has put your mind at ease, so you can stop worrying and focus all your efforts on healing.”
Hannah hugged Karen a second time and said, “Thank you, Karen. I didn’t know it was that obvious.”
She intentionally didn’t mention the foot wasn’t the only thing causing her stress.
Hannah finished preparing her coffee and joined Markie at the crayon table.
Each of the tables in the dining room were specially made to use as recreational as well as dining tables. Each seated four persons, and each had a drawer beneath the tabletop.
Each table was inlaid with a board game of some type, or another activity.
Markie had chosen his favorite table.
Emblazoned across the table top were very large words, Color Time!!! in purple cursive letters. A large cartoon dinosaur held a red crayon in one three-clawed hand and a blue crayon in the other.
The dinosaur was smiling, obviously kid friendly, and wearing a green hat.
While he waited for his mom, Markie had taken a coloring book and crayons from the drawer and was practicing his artistry.
“Well, that looks pretty good, Markie, honey. But I don’t think firetrucks are supposed to be purple.”
“Sure they are, Mom. You told me that in my imagination anything is possible. Remember?”
“Good point. Color away, little man. Did you enjoy your cookie?”
“Yes. It was yummy. Can I have another?”
“Nope. Daddy said he’d be here shortly after he got his shower. We’re gonna have breakfast then.”
“Why didn’t we just wait for him? He didn’t get to see you when you walked like a Frankenstein monster.”
“Well, because Daddy would have yelled at me for giving you a cookie before your breakfast.”
“Oh. I don’t want Daddy to yell at you. So okay, no more cookies.”
“Good job, dude.”
Hannah felt a hand upon her shoulder and turned her head.
“Oh hello, Frank.”
“Hello you two. My, that’s a great firetruck, Markie. But I thought firetrucks were supposed to be black instead of purple.”
Hannah slapped his hand, still on her shoulder.
“You’re not helping, Frank.”
“Mommy says anything is possible, Mr. Frank. Even purple firetrucks.”
“You know what, son? Your mommy is absolutely right. And it’s a great looking purple firetruck indeed.”
Frank turned his attention back to Hannah.
“Are we still on for the ten o’clock meeting?”
“Yes, sir. We’re waiting for Mark. We’re going to have some breakfast, and we’ll be there on time. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
“Well I’d absolutely love to, and thank you.”
Frank took the chair beside Markie and directly across from Hannah.
He studied her face.
“The swelling’s gone down. You almost look like you did before the crash, except for the bruises. And they’re much lighter today.”
“You mean I’m starting to look like a human again, instead of a big black and blue basketball head?”
He smiled.
“I wasn’t going to phrase it exactly that way, but now that you mention it…”
She kicked him under the table.
“Ouch! I thought your foot was bothering you.”
“Only the left one. The right one works just fine. And you’re lucky I didn’t wear pointed toes this morning.”
“I guess so. I guess Frankenstein would have looked pretty ridiculous shuffling down the hall in heels, huh?”
Markie forgot the firetruck for a moment.
“Did you see her? She was going ‘argh’ and everything.”
“Yes, Markie. I saw her. She was pretty funny, huh?”
“Yes. And she gave me a cookie too. But we can’t tell Daddy that, on account of Daddy might yell at her for letting me have a cookie before my breakfast.”
“Mommy did what?”
The question came from behind Markie, in his father’s voice.
Markie sheepishly said, “Uh-oh.”
Hannah sheepishly said, “Busted.”
Mark kissed her on the scruff of her neck.
“A cookie before breakfast, huh? That sounds like something I’d give him.”
Hannah said, “Yeah, well… I beat you to the punch today.”
“You guys ready to eat?”
Frank and Hannah stood.
Frank replied, “I’ve been ready, slowpoke. Just been waiting for you.”
Hannah told Markie, “You stay here and finish your firetruck, little sailor. Would you rather have bacon and eggs or pancakes?”
“Pancakes please.”
The three left Markie and went through the serving line, then retu
rned and ate a leisurely meal. Not a word was mentioned about NASA, Cupid 23, or the meeting that would follow their breakfast.
All three were chomping at the bits to get to the matter at hand, but were held back because they wanted to include several others in the discussions.
And because little Markie was the world’s worst secret keeper. If Markie caught wind that another meteorite might be heading toward the earth, everyone in the compound would know it within a couple of hours.
And without any details regarding the odds of a strike, many would panic.
For none of them wanted to have to survive another frozen world. Not for seven more years, or for seven more days.
As they ended their meal Frank looked at the clock on the dining room wall. It was a large Mickey Mouse clock, placed there in a moment of fancy by Sami the year before.
According to Mickey’s gloves hands, there was still half an hour before it was time to meet.
Frank excused himself.
“I’m going to go and write down all the questions I have. There’s about a zillion of them, give or take a few. Then I’ll round up the others and meet you in the lounge.”
-25-
The six of them gathered, stone faced and solemn. Hannah had told each of them only that there was a chance of another disaster coming. And she’d asked the same thing of each of them: to keep it from the others for the time being.
Not because the others didn’t have a right to know. But because they needed a game plan of sorts before they told everyone else to prevent panic and chaos.
These, for the most part, were the core of the group. The people who’d been there from the beginning. The people who’d set up the mine they’d used as shelter from the cold for seven long years.
The old timers, for lack of a better term.
Even Bryan was there, having left Sarah’s side for a few hours to take a break from his bedside vigil.
Hannah took the floor as soon as the last person arrived.
“I’ll save you all the particulars, but there’s another meteorite out there in space. It may collide with the earth and it may not. Sarah and I knew about it before Saris 7 struck the earth, and even back then nobody at NASA could agree whether it was an imminent threat. All the focus was on Saris 7 and what to do with it, and Cupid 23 got forgotten. By me, by Sarah, apparently by everybody else.
A Long Road Back: Final Dawn: Book 8 Page 9