Winds of Ares: An Apocalypse Thriller

by Druga, Jacqueline

  Billy nodded. “Den!” he called out.

  “Yeah.” I heard Den’s voice behind me.

  I looked; Den was standing there with Sturgis.

  “Radio in, tell the teams we’re headed in with a priority two,” Billy said. “And why in God’s name are you holding a bottle of Vicodin?”

  “Her,” he replied. “She had them.”

  “I was looking for antibiotics, I swear.”

  “I believe you.” Billy reached down to Lane. “Den, help me carry him out to the truck.”

  “Can we go with you?” I asked. “Please.”

  “There’s no room,” Billy replied. “But we’ll get someone up here ASAP to get you to Beckley. Have that eye looked at.”

  I muttered a ‘thank you’ watching gratefully as they lifted Lane. “I’ll be there shortly, Lane,” I said. “I promise you.”

  It didn’t dawn on me until they were outside, putting him in their truck, that it registered what Billy had said to me.

  “My eye?” I faced Sturgis. “What’s wrong with my eye?”

  “You don’t know? You don’t feel that?” Sturgis asked. “It’s pretty bad. Looks like you got hit or something went in it. You don’t feel that?”

  I shook my head. “No. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I figured you knew. I didn’t want to make you self-conscious. I just thought you were brave not complaining.”

  “Honestly, my whole body is numb.”

  “Well, it is gonna hurt like a doozy when that numbness, worry and adrenaline wear down, you’ll be regretting tossing those Vicodin over to the fire guy.”

  His words made me chuckle. I was sure he was right about feeling the pain later, but I couldn’t worry about that.

  I never would have believed we would have wandered into a rescue from Beckley.

  That had to make Sturgis feel better as well. If they had some sort of medical center operating, then Beckley was a lot better off than most of the places I had seen. If that was the case, then chances were good his family was fine.

  ✽✽✽

  It was a little longer than I expected for the other truck to arrive. It was a small fire chief truck. But there was room for both of us and for my bag.

  The chief winced with an “Oh, yeah, okay that’s bad.” As he looked at my eye.

  I’m thinking, ‘what the hell? How am I not feeling whatever is wrong with me?’

  He grabbed a white, instant ice pack, shook it and manipulated it then handed it to me.

  It was supposed to be some sort of miracle quick cold, but it didn’t feel cold at all.

  I never understood those things. We had them on hand at the soccer games when Carlie would play.

  The trip to the Beckley wasn’t long. There was a lot of damage I saw on the way. Not as much as Daniels. A lot of buildings still stood intact, although they were in some way touched by the mega storm.

  The temporary medical center was set up in the parking lot of the VA Hospital. A four story brick building with damage on the east part of the structure. It was missing windows and part of the roof.

  Tents were erected across the lot; after cars had been moved.

  From what I could see when we pulled up, it extended into the front lobby of the building.

  Sturgis asked me if I needed him to stay and I told him to find his family, then he could worry about us.

  It was a blur. Because I came in with the fire department, I bypassed the check in line.

  I was wished luck by the fire chief. And ushered into a golf cart with my bag and three other people.

  The driver zipped us across the lot to a large white tent erected by the front entrance.

  I walked inside, chairs were set up and partition curtains. I gathered people were being treated on the other side of the partitions. I heard cries, moans and screams.

  “Just have a seat,” said a man wearing scrubs and holding a clipboard. “Someone will be with you to treat you folks.”

  “I don’t want treated.” I rushed to the man. “I need to find my husband first.”

  “Well, I can …” he turned. “Whoa. Wow. That eye is bad.”

  “Yeah, but my husband is, too.”

  “When was he brought in?”

  “Not longer than an hour ago. The fire department brought him. He’s sick. I’m not even sure he gave them his name, Billy, took him.”

  “Oh, yeah, Lane, the Walgreens guy.”

  “Yes.”

  “This way. Doctor Raya is treating him now.”

  He led me to the back of the large tent, and as we neared the last area, I could hear a woman’s voice.

  “Please take it easy, Lane. We’re almost there,” she spoke soothingly.

  Suddenly, Lane coughed violent, like I’d never heard him cough. A mixture of a cough and gag.

  “Good luck,” the young man told me, leaving me at the curtain.

  “Almost there, help us out. You can do it. I got it,” she told him.

  Lane released a long choking gag.

  What was going on? It sounded like she was coaching my husband to give birth.

  Little did I realize, in sense she was. As I slowly parted the curtain, I saw the older woman with salt and pepper hair leaning over Lane’s face. She wore a mask and it looked like the large tweezers in her hand were in Lane’s mouth.

  There was another woman, younger on the other side, trying to hold him down.

  Lane’s body jolted and shook as he gagged. Then her arm moved slowly back, and as she withdrew her hand, clutched in the tweezers, she pulled a long thin brown object from his mouth. It had to be at least two feet. Wiry and thin, I couldn’t tell what it was.

  When it cleared his mouth, Lane sat up some and lunged the upper half of his body over the bed and with an upheaval sound of regurgitation and cough, water shot from his mouth along with traces of blood.

  “Oxygen,” Doctor Raya called out.

  The nurse immediately, put oxygen on Lane’s face.

  “Breathe,” Doctor Raya told him. “Take a breath. Better?”

  Lane nodded.

  “Good. Good. Now … watch how fast you get better.” Doctor Raya placed her hand on Lane’s wrist and glanced at the nurse. “Get him set up with an IV so we can move him into Intermediate Care.”

  I don’t think she even knew I was there. She seemed genuinely surprised when I asked, “Will he be alright?”

  Doctor Raya jumped a little. “Oh, you scared me. I … my goodness, we need to treat that eye.”

  “My husband. He’s my husband. Will he be alright?”

  “He will be.” She walked over to me. “I’m hopeful. He’s very strong. He had debris in his lungs, which also trapped water. I can’t believe he didn’t die. His oxygen levels were unbelievably low. But … we have him on steroids, trying to bring that fever down. But I think it will now that we’ve cleared his lungs. He needs to be on antibiotics for a few days. We’ll be moving him to an observation tent. Where he’ll get good care. Okay?”

  I nodded and stepped toward Lane. “Can I just stay here until you move him?”

  “You can stay here until we call you to treat you. Okay?”

  I nodded again and walked over to the cot.

  The nurse smiled at me.

  “Thank you for helping him,” I said.

  “Not a problem. I’m going to get him hooked up and then have someone get to you right away.”

  I thanked her again. My eye could not have been that bad. Lane never said a word, nor really did Sturgis.

  It didn’t hurt, so to me they were overreacting. Lane’s health was way more important. Besides, it was just an eye injury. How bad could it be?

  ✽✽✽

  To say I was shocked was an understatement when Doctor Raya told me another day and I would have lost my eye. In fact, she wasn’t even sure I was out of the woods with it.

  I argued with her about it, that I was fine and could see, until she covered my good eye and I saw how blurry ever
ything was.

  Was it my emotions, my adrenaline that covered the pain? It didn’t start hurting until they pulled the half inch piece of wood from my eye. It bled and the fluid buildup was released.

  They put a patch on my eye and Doctor Raya wanted to hook me up to an IV with antibiotics as well.

  “I can’t,” I told her. “I have family on the other side of the river. They’re waiting. I told them we’d be there tomorrow. We got separated and my radio died.”

  “Well, you obviously can’t walk there, and you can’t drive.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Your depth perception is going to be off. You could crash. How about … trying to reach them by radio. You really should be under care like your husband.”

  Radioing them was a good suggestion, but I could tell she was busy and didn’t really have a lot of time to babysit me.

  She instructed a male volunteer to take me to the rescue workers tent to try a radio there.

  He took me there in a golf cart, told someone inside what I needed, and the man handed me a radio.

  There were police, fire fighters and others in there. They looked exhausted. Some sat in chairs, some laid on the ground. There was a small meeting going on in the corner and I sat at a small table with a radio.

  I tried for at least an hour, every channel I could. There was no luck to be had. The radio probably died for Martin, too. I knew he didn’t have a charger.

  I sat at the table, clutching the radio, feeling defeated.

  “Hey,” the young voice called to me. “How’s your husband?”

  I lifted my head. It was Den. “He’s better. Thank you so much.”

  Billy walked in the tent after him. “Oh, good, you got that eye taken care of. How’s Lane?”

  “He’s good.”

  “What’s wrong?” Billy asked.

  “I’m … I’m trying to reach my family. We got separated at the bridge. They made it across. We didn’t. Last I spoke to them by radio they were meeting me on the other side of the bridge south of here. Tomorrow and … I just don’t know how to get in touch with them or get there.”

  He just stared at me.

  “I’m sorry.” I waved my hand. “I know it’s not your problem.”

  “No that’s not it,” Billy replied. “I was just thinking. Den, wasn’t someone saying they were headed across the river? She wanted to go today, but she’s still pitching in.”

  “Oh, yeah. She did say she wanted to head out before tonight.” Den said. “Alice. Her name is Alice.”

  Billy snapped his finger. “That’s it. Why don’t you find her? Go ask Alice. See if she’ll take her.”

  I jumped up. “Alice. Her name is Alice?”

  “Yeah,” Billy answered. “She arrived yesterday right after we got hit. She’s been pitching in.”

  “Tall woman, around your age, long sandy hair. Kinda tough looking?” I asked.

  “Sounds like her.”

  “Oh my God.” My heart raced. “Can you take me to her?”

  “Do you know her?” Den asked.

  “Oh, God, I hope.” I placed my hand on my chest. “I hope it’s her.”

  “Then I’ll go find her,” Den said. “Stay here.”

  I agreed, feeling backwards, finding my chair and sitting back down.

  Alice.

  I thought she had left.

  It would be a miracle if it were our Alice. I tried not to get my hopes up. Because what were the odds it was really her?

  I sat there waiting for what seemed like forever, then finally I was impatient and decided to go look for myself.

  As soon as I stepped from that tent, I saw Alice making her way with Den.

  She froze, stopping completely in her tracks. When she saw me, she didn’t look happy, she looked scared.

  “Oh, God, Jana, tell me Martin and everyone is okay,” she said.

  “They are. We got separated. Me and Lane are the ones not really okay.”

  She exhaled with a smile and rushed to me. “Oh, good.” She embraced me. “Not that it’s good you guys aren’t okay, but everyone else is fine.”

  “What happened?” I asked. “You left to go back.”

  She shook her head. “It got real bad, Jana. I mean, we were backtracking from the storm. I managed radio contact with some guy in Denver. Nothing is left. So, we turned around, to try to find you guys.”

  “I’m sorry you couldn’t get home, but I am so happy to see you. Now we just have to find Martin and the others.”

  “Then what do you say, Nick Fury, I go get the truck and we find the others?”

  “I say that’s a plan.”

  “Be right back.” Alice flashed a smile and turned to go the other way.

  Den was still there, quietly listening. “See,” he said. “It all worked out.”

  “It did. Why … why did she call me Nick Fury?”

  He pointed to his own eye.

  With an, ‘Ah’, I put two and two together about the eye patch, and I just shook my head with a smile.

  I felt so much better about everything, and Alice was definitely a welcome surprise.

  TWENTY-FOUR – JULIUS

  In the three hours it had been since I had seen Lane after they moved him to the Intermediate Care tent, his improvement was remarkable.

  While far from being out of the woods, the nurses believed he was on his way to getting there.

  They had him in a curtained off area in the large tent. There were about twelve others there, and medical personnel were in there constantly with their patients.

  His fever hadn’t broken completely, but it had come down. They were pumping him steadily with medication and a steady flow of oxygen through his nose, it helped him breathe easier and took away the color of death he had before.

  He was groggy and still out of it, but he was talking some.

  Before I sought out Lane, Alice had told me, “It’s a one way trip today. By the time we get there, find them, it’ll be getting dark. We go and stay wherever we find them or wait until tomorrow.”

  She showed me the map and how we would take the smaller, southern bridge where we were supposed to meet Martin in case he was camping there. If not, then head north and find the welcome center.

  “I’m worried,” Alice said. “The doctor wants you on antibiotics, too. Should you be running around?”

  “I’ll be fine. Anita is there when we find them. They can give me some pills,” I said.

  “Not like the hard stuff, right?” Alice asked. “I heard you were searching out Vicodin.”

  I laughed. “I didn’t even know what I had grabbed.”

  “I thought so. Well, whatever you decide.”

  It was a tough decision. It really was.

  I wanted to find Martin and the kids, along with the others. I wanted to see for myself they were alright and let them know we were fine. On the other hand, I really didn’t want to leave Lane.

  Without getting into details how I was going, I asked what he thought I should do.

  Even in his half ‘out of it’ state, he answered. “Go. Go find them. Come back tomorrow. What are you gonna do? Watch me sleep? I would think you did that enough in our marriage.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll do,” I said. “Lane, why didn’t you mention my eye was bad?”

  “You hurt your eye?” he asked.

  I pointed to the eye patch.

  “I didn’t notice.”

  “Neither did I.”

  Alice called out, “Knock-knock and stepped into the partitioned off area where Lane and I were. “No door. I couldn’t knock.”

  “Look who came back,” I told Lane.

  “Hey …” he said slowly. “I knew it.”

  “Looks like you ain’t riding in any rodeos any time soon, cowboy,” Alice joked.

  “If there ever is again, I will.”

  “I’m sure you’ll start one. Did you decide, Jana?” Alice asked.

  “Yes. I’m ready. Let’s go. Lane ne
eds to rest.”

  “Then let’s do this. Hey …” She pointed at Lane. “Get better.”

  Lane gave a thumbs up.

  I said my goodbyes to Lane and Alice, and I headed out to find the rest of our group.

  Those who had left with Alice stayed behind because we were returning.

  When she said the truck was ready, I expected to see her rig. She had dumped it for a smaller more fuel efficient truck. A fifteen foot box truck with the wording, “Herbie’s Hubcaps Service’ on the side.

  We drove on the original course I had planned out, back through Daniels and taking Route Three to the bridge.

  The river seemed high to me and the current was strong, so much debris floated in it.

  I told Alice about our water funnel and how everything happened. I mentioned Sturgis and how I wanted to find him.

  He was just one of many people we met along the way.

  One of many I would think about, wonder about. The towns we passed through were flattened and the ones that were holding down the front lines.

  There was no one there when we crossed the river, we even drove a few miles and saw nothing.

  The ground was muddy and there was no sign of any tracks.

  We took a deeply tree lined and winding road north, passing a town called, Hinton. At least that was what the sign said.

  The town was flooded, water came nearly to the road. The farther north we drove, elevation increased, and we arrived at where the Mary Draper Ingles Bridge used to be.

  “Holy cow,” Alice stopped the truck, opened the door and stepped out facing the empty space. “Holy cow, this is insane.” She looked over her shoulder at me. “You survived this?”

  “Yeah, we did.”

  Alice whistled. “The Little House on the Prairie Bridge is gone. And you spoke to Martin after?”

  “The Visitor Center is a mile or so from here.”

  She stood there taking in the sight of the missing bridge, then returned to the truck.

  We arrived at the visitors’ center, the building was in great shape, no broken windows, only a few scattered tree limbs. There was no sign of Martin and the others. There was some indication they had been there, footsteps and horseshoe prints in the mud, and then we spotted something else.