by Kirby Howell
“I’m fine. I just need to find Connie first. Then I’ll do whatever you need. I promise.”
“It looks like Shad found her,” he said, pointing. She was three aisles over, about halfway down the golden room. I broke contact with Grey, rushed past the people between us, and dropped to my knees beside her cot.
She smiled as I leaned over and hugged her gently. Her light blonde hair smelled like smoke, and her eyes were red-rimmed. She was stretched out on her side, a white sheet covering her from the waist to her knees, where it was folded up to leave her calves exposed. The skin on the left side and backs of her swollen calves was heavily splotched with raised patches of angry red and pink scales.
“Are you okay? Are you hurting? What can I get you? Have they been taking good care of you?”
She laughed lightly and put her index finger to my lips to shush me. “I’m fine. I’m fine. My legs are burned. They’re keeping an eye on them, so they don’t get infected. One of the women here already put medicine on them. I’m sore, but I’m fine.”
Grey knelt down beside me and lifted the covers a little higher, revealing further burning. I heard Shad’s intake of breath as the full scope of her injuries were revealed, and I understood why she was on her side.
“Try to keep the cover off these burns, Connie. I don’t want anything sticking to them as they heal. There doesn’t appear to be any sign of infection so far. Shad?” Grey said, drawing his gaze from Connie’s burns. “Find a couple cushions or a spare pillow to elevate her legs above her heart, okay?”
“On it,” Shad stood and darted away quickly.
Grey dug into his backpack, pulled out a bottle of gel and handed it to me. “I want you to apply this liberally to all of her burns.” Then he turned to Connie, “It will have a numbing effect and help ease your pain.” She nodded a thank you.
“I’m also going to give you a shot to help with that.” He reached deeper into his bag and pulled out a needle and bottle, prepped the injection, and then slid the needle into the soft pink flesh of her hip. “I’ll come back and check on you later. Try to get some rest.”
Connie again nodded her thanks, and Grey turned his eyes back on me. “I’m going to check out the rest of the room and get started on the more severe patients.” He stood and looked down at me briefly, then hitched the bag onto his back and headed for JR and Kathy, who were talking with a young Asian woman.
Connie smiled at me when I turned back to her.
“You have no idea how relieved we are that you and Rissi are okay,” I said. “We were all so worried.”
Connie tried to slightly shift.
“Are you comfortable on your side like that?” I asked.
A pained expression clouded her pretty face. “It’s worse on my back because of the pressure on the burns. I think a pillow between my knees will help.”
“Shad’s finding something. He’ll be back soon.” I smoothed some of her dirty hair back from her forehead and set to gently applying the gel Grey gave me. She still grimaced every time I touched a new swollen red patch of skin with the ointment.
“I guess this should be a lesson to me,” she said between clenched teeth. “When jumping under a craps table to escape a ball of fire, always make sure to tuck your legs in, too.” She chuckled through her grimace.
“You saved Rissi and those other kids,” I said quietly. I wanted to tell her how brave she was, and how relieved I was she was safe. I wanted to tell her how much she was like an older sister to me, how much Rissi and her classmates loved her, how much Shad depended on her, and my suspicions of Daniel’s feelings for her. I wanted to tell her about Sarah’s texts and my troubles with Grey. All of these things crowded in my head, but none made it past my lips. They didn’t seem to want to move.
“Hey,” Connie whispered. “It’s okay. We’re okay. We’re all together now, and as soon as I’m up and about, we’ll all go back to Hoover.” She reached for my hand and held it firmly with her own steady, strong one.
Not wanting to upset her, I set to straightening the sheet across her torso, folding the top down evenly.
“Where’s Rissi?” I asked busily.
“In the guest quarters. She’s been down here keeping me company. Daniel’s started calling her...” she interrupted herself with a giggle, “the nurse from hell.”
I laughed aloud and quickly covered my mouth.
“Every time I start to fall asleep, she asks what she can get for me, and what she can do. I’m thankful he finally made her go lie down late last night. She’d been up since the accident yesterday. I know she means well, but it’s been so nice having a few hours of peace.”
“That sounds like our Rissi,” I said. “I’d like to see her, just to let her know Ben and I are here. Do you know which room she’s in?” I asked.
“Room 212 with all the other kids. Why don’t you go on and find her. I’m going to try and rest a while longer.”
“I need to help Grey here for a little while first. Then I’ll go wake her up.” I hugged her again and then found Grey, who was inspecting a gash on an unconscious man’s forehead.
“Connie looked bad. Is she going to be okay?” I whispered.
“It’s worse than I’d like it to be,” he admitted. “But as long as we can keep any infection at bay, I think she’ll be fine.” He lowered his voice and drew closer, “If all else fails, I could even slip her some of the E-Vitamin I have left. Don’t worry about her.”
“Thank you,” I said. I took a deep breath and touched his arm, letting it linger. I saw the surprise register on his face. “Thank you for taking care of her. You have no idea how much it means to me.”
“I think I might,” he said, his blue eyes focused on my own.
“Where should I start?” I asked, and then averted my eyes quickly as I saw him pick up a wickedly curved needle threaded with black string. “What’s that?” I gasped.
He paused. “It’s a surgical suture. He needs about fifteen stitches.” He scanned the room, then pointed to Shad. “Why don’t you go see who Shad has helped so far? Start assessing what kind of condition everyone is in. Come get me, JR or Kathy immediately if you can’t find a pulse, or can’t feel someone breathing or if you find uncontrolled bleeding.” He nodded at me, smiling encouragingly. “You can do this, Autumn. You’ve done it before, remember?”
I nodded and, with a lingering backward glance at him, made for Shad. Grey was right. I had done this before. When Karl shot Grey at the radio station, I didn’t pass out or throw up when I saw the wound. While I would never be as cool and clinical as Lydia, I hoped to show Franklin that Grey made a good decision in letting me come in.
I joined Shad on the far side of the room with the young Asian woman I’d seen before. He was helping lift a patient while she changed the sheets under him. When he finished lowering the semi-conscious man back on the fresh sheet, he noticed my approach.
“Almost looks like you know what you’re doing,” I said.
“Beats digging sand, plus I made a new friend.” He motioned to the woman and wiggled his eyebrows. She was strikingly beautiful, with flawless bronze skin and the most peculiar eyes I’d ever seen. In this light, they appeared violet. I wondered if it was her real eye color, or if she was wearing contacts. She smiled brightly at me and extended an elegantly thin hand out to me.
“Hi, I’m Vonna,” she said. I shook her hand and introduced myself.
“Vonna is Franklin’s daughter,” Shad said. That caused me to stare at her for a moment longer. They didn’t resemble each other at all. For one thing, he wasn’t Asian. Vonna giggled at me when she noticed the new scrutiny.
“Well, I call him Dad, but he’s not my real father. He was the first person to find me after The Plague hit. I’d met him before that though, in between shows.”
“Shows?” I asked.
“I was a performer in Les Papillons before everyone got sick,” she said as she tucked the folded sheet under her arm and brushed the smooth, raven h
air from her face. “Franklin was the IT guy here, so we’d call him if we had problems with the computers that controlled the lights and rigs and stuff.”
“Is that why you all stayed at the Egyptian? Because of Franklin?”
“Yeah, partly. He knows every nook and cranny of this place. He’s worked here since it opened, and after the gas riots, he kinda became the leader.”
“Vonna’s a showgirl,” Shad said meaningfully to me. I recalled our conversation earlier this morning and rolled my eyes.
“I told you, I wasn’t that kind of showgirl! There were no tassels on my costume,” she said, swatting at his arm. “Come on, Autumn, let’s start on the other side of the room.” She led me away from Shad, who was still grinning, as he turned toward the next cot.
“My costume did have tassels, but I’m not telling him that,” Vonna whispered, grinning.
“That’s probably a good move,” I assured her.
“I don’t mean to sound weird, but it’s really cool to finally meet you,” Vonna said with the faintest hint of a blush.
“Oh,” I said, taken aback.
“We’ve all heard about you here in Vegas, what with so many Hoover people coming and going these days.” Then she lowered her voice, as if embarrassed to tell me the rest. “You’ve kind of become a post-plague legend. The famous Autumn Winters, savoir of Los Angeles.”
I couldn’t stifle a laugh. “That’s hardly true.”
“No!” she said a little louder than she meant to, then lowered her voice. “But it is. I mean, you did go to the radio station and broadcast your message before leaving, right?”
“Well, yeah. But I hardly ‘saved’ anyone.”
“You’re too modest... like your mother,” she added with a sincere smile. “I always liked that about her in her interviews. She was so genuinely modest when people praised her performances, and she’d credit it to the writers and directors. It must’ve been so amazing being her daughter.”
I was caught breathless for a moment, then nodded my head. Yes, it had been amazing. “Thanks,” I said, quietly. Then she took my hand, and we set to work.
We worked for several hours, moving down the seemingly endless rows of people waiting for attention. I changed bandages and bedding, fluffed pillows and braided a few women’s hair. I talked pleasantly to the people who were awake while I worked on them, and it wasn’t long before everyone realized who I was. I answered the same questions over and over, but it didn’t bother me as much as it usually did. They were glad for the company, and I was glad to give it.
A few hours later, I looked up to find Grey standing motionless across the room, watching me. I automatically looked away so he wouldn’t know I caught him staring, but couldn’t stop myself from glancing back. He didn’t seem at all embarrassed and gave me a small smile, his tired face lighting up for me.
I couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he’d left town after our conversation on the dam weeks ago. We’d be here in Vegas with only Kathy and JR, who were wonderful at what they did, but had nowhere near Grey’s expertise. I thought, selfishly, that I was also beginning to like having Grey around again. For so much of the last year when I was alone at The Water Tower, and even after Ben and Rissi joined me in hiding, I’d daydreamed about Grey. He became my safe place. And little by little, he was regaining that place in my heart, despite my effort to keep him at a distance.
I sighed and cleaned carefully around a cut on a sleeping man’s shin. Elevated voices made me look up. Daniel had joined Grey and now gestured aggressively to him. Grey’s arms were crossed, and he had a stormy look on his face. What could have caused Daniel to be angry with Grey? Had he found out about the missing medical supplies? What else would have made him go through the climb to get back inside the Egyptian so soon?
I strained my ears to listen, and when I couldn’t quite make out the exact words, I quickly bandaged the man’s cut, grabbed my small bag of supplies and moved a little closer, pretending to examine a sleeping patient I’d already tended to.
“How could it be broken?” Daniel said harshly. “Didn’t you check it before you left Hoover?”
“Of course I did. It worked fine,” Grey answered, rubbing his tired eyes.
“You must not have packed it carefully enough –”
“I packed it carefully, Daniel,” Grey argued. “A ride in the wagon and some sand shouldn’t have rendered the radio useless.”
“Well, it’s dead now. Something had to happen to it,” Daniel protested. “Things don’t just fall apart.”
Grey held his hands up in exasperation and an air of finality. “I don’t know what to tell you, Daniel. I took the utmost care of it. The importance of a communication device is not lost on me. It worked when I packed it. It doesn’t now. We’ll have to see if Vegas can lend us something until we get it working again.”
Daniel sighed heavily and seemed to calm when his red-rimmed eyes found and then lingered on Connie’s sleeping form across the room. “This all would be a moot point if that idiot, Randy, would’ve fixed the radio in the plane like I asked him to last week. I don’t know why Westland puts up with that guy.”
“I can talk to Ben about trying to fix ours,” Grey said apologetically.
“I don’t mean to be so harsh. I’m just sick and tired of all of this.” He sighed and Grey gave him a silent look of understanding; then Daniel disappeared through the door. Grey immediately turned back to a patient, his shoulders hanging a little lower than they usually did.
I exhaled. No wonder Daniel was mad. Until a radio was fixed or found, we wouldn’t be able to communicate with Hoover if we needed more help.
I went back to work on the remainder of my patients, but it wasn’t long until I finished my rounds, cleaning and bandaging every wounded soul in the room. I stopped in once more to check on Connie, but she was sound asleep. I pulled a blanket farther up on her and tiptoed away, glad she was finally resting. I looked around the room and noticed Grey behind the wet bar, cleaning his tools in the sink. He still seemed low after the public disagreement with Daniel. The way he leaned against the counter, shoulders slouched and head bent, made him look smaller than he really was. I watched as he sighed deeply and blinked quickly, as if trying to keep himself awake. He looked exhausted. I felt a sudden desire to go talk to him.
“Is that sanitary?” I asked, sidling up next to him at the sink.
He held up a top shelf bottle of vodka.
“Seems to be your disinfectant of choice.”
He nodded, but didn’t smile.
“So, what’s going on?” I asked, watching him splash more vodka across a small pile of suture needles.
“Well, there’s only minimal infection from all the burns for now. There’s always that risk in a non-sterile environment, but so far, we’ve been lucky.” His voice sounded deflated.
“Oh, well that’s good, but that’s not what I meant.”
His ocean blue eyes came up to stare at me for the first time in the conversation, and their perfect clarity stunned me. He was so beautiful. I wasn’t surprised I was still drawn to him. I forced myself to release the breath I’d sucked in.
“With Daniel?” he asked, and I nodded.
“I... didn’t think you’d noticed me,” he said.
“Of course, I still notice you. How could I not?” I said before I could think. I paused a moment, waiting to see how he reacted. Heat rose in my face as I saw the corner of his mouth lift slightly. I charged ahead to avoid further embarrassing myself with this line of conversation. “What happened with Daniel? Why were you guys fighting? You never fight.”
“We’re cut off from Hoover. We need to get in touch with them to report our arrival and the situation here, and we can’t. Daniel’s frustrated.”
“Vegas never had a problem talking to Hoover before. Why can’t we use one of their radios?” I asked. It was a little intimidating to think we were completely cut off.
“They just got the power up before we got
here, but the main radio was damaged in the explosion. Apparently they’re having a hard time locating another working radio.”
“Franklin will find something. He seems pretty industrious.”
“He is. I’m sure he’ll find something suitable.” He dried his hands and gazed at me. I could see the wheels turning in his mind.
“What?” I prodded him along.
“I wonder if Morse code would transmit through the static. Daniel said it powered up fine, it just wouldn’t transmit audio. But that’s assuming, of course, that there’s someone at Hoover who knows how to interpret the code.”
“Let me guess, you know Morse code?” I knew he spoke several languages, from living all around the world in his very long life, but Morse code seemed specific.
“I learned it during the Battle of France. I recorded it all in my journals, which I lost a few months later during the Blitz. Took me years to recall everything well enough to write it all down again. Though, I suppose I lost it all again, because I left it at the underground hideout in Hollywood after The Front found us.”
“The Blitz? You were in World War II?!” I said, a little too loudly.
His eyes sparkled with the hint of a smile, and he put his index finger to his lips. “Shh,” he mouthed and then continued, “I’ve been in most of the world’s major conflicts, Autumn. What better way for a historian to record things than to witness them firsthand? I enlisted as a reporter early on, during my time in London. Most news sources can’t be trusted to relay accurate information during wartime. Too much propaganda.” A wide smile spread across his face as he watched my astonishment grow.
It never failed to fascinate me when he casually said things like this. Remembering he’d been around for so long was startling, but he talked about his past with such ease, as if the person next to him had similar experiences. I shook my head in awe. “No wonder you were so good at getting around Los Angeles after The Plague. You’ve probably seen worse than that... than this even,” I said, looking around at the room full of patients.