Evacuation (14 page)

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Authors: Phillip Tomasso

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Post-Apocalyptic

BOOK: Evacuation
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Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

Erway assured me she could finish up on Cash without us.

“I’ve got guns,” Jason said. “Come with me.”

I stopped at the doorway, “You’re good?”

“We’re going to be fine,” Erway said. She even smiled. That made me the most apprehensive. All along, it had been the tone that bothered me. The tone, that was honest. I knew where she stood. She wasn’t feeding me bullshit. The smile, that fucked with me. A mental fuck at that.

The whole downstairs of the cabin had shutters over the windows. The shutters were on the inside. I liked it. Zombies, if they could, had to first break the glass, and then figure out a way through the wood shutters. Door was solid and locked. Place was like a fortress.
“Guns?” I said.

“Here,” Jason said.

Hall closet. Jeremy pulled open the door.

“How is he, Dad?” Charlene asked.

“Erway got the bullet. I think he’s going to be okay,” I said.

Charlene’s lower lip quivered. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I got mad at the captain and I shot him. I shot him and then his crew started shooting at us. But they were going to leave. He was going to leave you and everyone else stranded out there.”

“It’s okay, honey. I’m not mad,” I said. It wasn’t going to be enough. I needed to give her more. She needed more. “I’m proud of you. You stood up for me. You did the right thing.”

Vitale had tried to station Spencer by the boat to prevent just such a thing from happening. Where had he been? What had gone wrong there?

She hugged me.

I looked at the closet, but clearly, it was no closet. Dave disappeared inside, with Sues behind him, Palmeri and Crystal. It must lead to another room. The cabin didn’t look that big when we came up on it. I’ll admit I’d been preoccupied with Cash.
With everything. Feeling overwhelmed was becoming the norm, and I didn’t like it.

“Come on,” I said. I took Charlene’s hand and led her to the doorway. I went in first and emerged into a room that looked like something out of a movie. AK-47s lined one wall. Gun safe doors stood open showcasing a variety of rifles and shotguns. Another wall held both compound and recurve bows over a work table where it looked like feather fletching were homemade and affixed to arrow shafts. The floor was stockpiled with pallets and boxes of ammunition, and there was no shortage of swords, hatchets and machetes.

After using guns the last day and a half, many might disagree, but I prefer the machetes and swords. You didn’t run out of steel the way you did ammo. You could only carry so many rounds with you. I’d take a gun or two, stuff my pockets with ammo, but I wanted to get my hands on the machetes and swords, and strap them around my waist, and to my back. That’s what I was thinking.

“Seen this coming?” Palmeri said. She slowly spun in circles, as if trying to take it all in. I had to agree that it was a lot to process.

“Yes,” Jeremy said. “Not zombies, but something. Fall of the government. Got democrats and bleeding heart liberals running things. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Not zombies.”

“You said that, not zombies,” Jason said. “We believe there is nothing wrong with stockpiling a little peace of mind. This room, everything inside here, it’s our peace of mind.”

Jeremy bounced up and down. “Got another room, twice the size of this room with all kinds of food, and water, and sup—”

“Enough, Jeremy,” Jason said.

Jason was the big brother. That much was evident. And the smart one. He didn’t like his little brother giving away too much. After all, we were strangers.

“Take what you think you’ll need. Got bars on the outside of the windows upstairs. No shutters. Be a perfect place to hit targets out on the lawn,” Jason said.

I couldn’t agree more. We grabbed what we thought we would need. I fit a belt around my waist, and affixed both a broadsword on one side, and a twelve inch blade recurve hunting knife on the other. I slung a machete in a leather sheath over my neck and shoulder. The blade had to have been twenty-five inches long.

Charlene stood beside me and I looked at her. “What are you doing?” I said.

“You don’t want me to have a gun,” she said.

“You’re right. I don’t. Wish things could be like they were before.
When there were no…no zombies. That’s not where we are anymore, honey. We’re far, far away from that place, from that time. I don’t want you to have a gun, but what happened to your brother—that wasn’t your fault. You’ve shown me over and over that you are responsible, and that you can handle the truth and handle what is going on. I don’t want you to have a gun, but Char, I
need
you to have one,” I said.

“Chase! Chase!”

It was Erway. Charlene and I locked eyes.

We left the weapons room and ran back for the bedroom. Erway was at the door. “He’s awake.”

I studied her expression. She gave nothing away.

Charlene grabbed my hand. It wasn’t subtle. She was telling me there was no way she wasn’t coming into the room this time.

We walked in. I pointed to the right side of the bed. Charlene went there. “Hey, little brother,” she said.

She couldn’t hold it together. The tears rolled down her cheeks, but she smiled. She wore a mask made of smiles.

I took the left side of the bed and knelt there. Took his hand. “Hey, buddy,” I said.

“Dad,” he said.

“Yeah, Cash, what?”

“Did you kill my mother?”

It wasn’t the question that I expected. I stared at him, felt Charlene staring at me.

“You came looking for us, right?”

“Of course, I did,” I said.

“Where did you go, when you were looking for us?” His words came out slow.
A whisper. His lips were dry, cracked. “Where did you look for us? You went to Mom’s house, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Cash, I did.”

“When you got there, did you kill my mom?”

I looked up and over at Charlene. She seemed to wait for the answer, too. They did not need to hear the truth.

“No,” I said. “I did not. I didn’t kill her.”

Charlene’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t believe me.
I saw it in my head. Their mom on the bed, the shattered picture frame on the hardwood floor. I used a shovel. Tried to flatten her skull with it, but swing after swing had done little to stop her until I used the blade of the shovel and separated most of her head from her shoulders.

I cringed. The memory felt horrible, and knew I’d relive it time and again once this nightmare ended.
If it ever ended.

I had to give more. “When I got there, we searched the house for you guys.
For the two of you. We found your mom’s husband,” I said.

“I had to chop his hand off,” Charlene said. Was she smiling?

“We killed him. We had too. But when I was upstairs, I found your mother,” I said. “She was in one of the bedrooms, looking at a picture of you kids…”

She had been in a bedroom looking at a picture.

The zombies at the fence had figured out how to climb higher by standing on corpses like step stools.

“Dad,” Charlene said.
I hadn’t killed their mother. What I did might have been worse. Don’t think I ever expected them to ask me about it. Not sure, I’d have handled it differently, regardless. “I left her there,” I said. “I closed the bedroom door. I left her in the room with pictures of you two.”

“Do you think that made her happy,” Cash said.

I closed my eyes. “Yes, buddy. I think that made her happy. She has memories of you guys to keep her happy.”

Memories.
In her infected state, did she have memories? Was it possible?

“Is he sleeping?” Charlene said.
“Dad?”

I watched his chest. It didn’t rise. It didn’t fall. “Erway,” I said. “He’s not breathing!”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

I’d been sound asleep when Julie woke me up with a nudge. Working two jobs, when I had time to sleep, I slept.

“What is it?” I’d whispered. Don’t think I’d even opened my eyes.

“The baby,” my ex-wife had said. Charlene was five years old.
Hardly a baby.

“What does she want?”

“Not Charlene. This baby,” she said.

I opened my eyes. Julie had the bedroom light on. She was dressed, her packed bag for the hospital by the door. “Is it time?”

She shrugged. “Contractions started about an hour ago. They’re less than three minutes apart already.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” I said, lifting myself up onto an elbow.

“If it was nothing, I would have let you sleep. I assumed they wouldn’t get so close together so soon.” She stood by her bag, with one hand on the doorknob.

“Doctor told us the second delivery will be faster than the first. Your body already knows the routine. Dilating and effacing,” I said, and threw off the bedspread. “I have time to shower?”

“I don’t think so. I waited as long as I could.”

I picked up the phone, “I’ll call our parents and get Charlene ready. You sit down, just rest. Try to relax.”

A contraction must have hit, because her face contorted. She gave the doorknob a white-knuckle grip. She breathed quick, shallow breaths in a steady rhythm.

I jumped up and led her back to the bed. “Sit, please. Just sit.”

I called my mother first. She said she’d call Julie’s parents. Everyone would meet at the hospital.

“Okay. Keep doing your breathing. I’m going to dress Charlene,” I said. I went from our room to Charlene’s. We’d need a bigger place. This two-bedroom ranch was not going to cut it. Having Charlene sleep in her own room only just happened. With a crib in there now, she’d never get any rest while sharing space with a baby.

I stood over her bed. She was balled up under blankets. Strands of hair were sticky with sweat and stuck to her face. A hug-pillow was between her arms. The hug-pillow that I’d bought for her. I had one, too. So when she slept in her own bed like a big girl, she could hug her pillow, and I would hug mine, and it would be like we were napping together. It didn’t just make her happy; it made me happy.

I wondered how happy she’d be to have a little brother or
sister?

I peeled back the blanket, but she didn’t stir. “Charlene,” I said.
“Honey?”

Her eyelids fluttered before opening.
“Daddy?”

“We need to get up, get ready. Mommy is going to have the baby today.”

Her eyes opened wider and she sat up. “The baby’s coming now?”

I nodded.

She got right out of bed. I watched, amazed, as she changed her clothes and grabbed her suitcase on wheels. “I’m ready!”

“What’s in the suitcase?” I said.

“I have toys, puzzles, books, sippy-boxes and snacks. Mommy said it could take a long time, so I should pack things to keep me busy.”

I kissed her nose. “Mommy is a genius!”

The hospital was less than seven miles away. It took us nearly twenty minutes to get there. It was just after midnight, so there was no traffic. We did catch every red light, but mainly because I drove thirty miles an hour, and as soon as I saw amber light, I slowed to a stop. Was I a little apprehensive about getting into an accident? Yeah, you could say I was.

We pulled into Emergency. At the sliding doors, I stopped the car. I helped both women out and grabbed a lone wheelchair. “Sit. I’m going to park right over there,” I said.
“Char, take care of your mom until I get back.”

I parked, hurried over the sliding doors and pushed Julie into the hospital, her bag on my shoulder, while Charlene followed alongside, wheeling her suitcase.

“Chase,” Julie said in a whisper. I lowered my head as I wheeled us to the front desk, past security. “I haven’t felt the baby since we left the house.”

“He’s resting between contractions,” I said.

“Chase, something’s wrong.”

I stopped at the desk. The woman there stared at the three of us. My wife had her hand on her bulbous belly.

“We need to see a doctor. Our doctor. Julie, did you tell our doctor we were coming to the hospital?”

“I did. I called him just before I woke you up,” she said.

“We need to see our doctor, please. He’s going to deliver our baby,” I said.

The woman smiled. “What is your doctor’s name?”

Brain fart. I had no clue.

“Give me my bag,” Julie said. I did. She unzipped it and took out some forms. “Everything is there. Admittance forms are all filled out.”

“Mom’s a genius,” Charlene said.

My parents entered the hospital and I walked Charlene over. “We’re going to be going in. She’s got stuff inside the suitcase to keep her busy.”

“And I brought a pocket full of change for the vending machines,” my father said. He took Charlene by the hand. “We’ll be fine.”

My mother gave me a kiss. “How’s Julie?”

“Says the baby isn’t moving,” I said.

My mother shook her head. “Everything’s fine. Go be with her.”

I joined Julie as she was being wheeled through automated doors that had swung open.

Once in a delivery room, the nurse hooked Julie up to a baby heart monitor. We all watched the blips dance across the screen as a roll of receipt-like paper steadily spit out of an opening. The nurse tore off about ten inches of paper.

“How’s it look?” I said.

“The doctor will be right in to explain things. In the meantime, please change into the hospital gown,” the nurse said, smiled, and left the room with the printout.

“Hate when they do that,” Julie said, pulling off her clothing. “She knows what the monitor says.”

I just nodded, helping her into the flower print gown. No point arguing over what a nurse can and can’t tell patients.

We didn’t wait long before a doctor entered the room, but it wasn’t Julie’s obstetrician. She looked at the monitor as she said hello and introduced herself.

“Julie, if I can have you
place your legs in the stirrups, please.”

I stepped aside.

The doctor parted Julie’s knees.

I focused on Julie, keeping my eyes on hers. They were open too wide. The fear oozed from her expression.

“Last time you felt the baby move, or kick?”

“Just before we left the house. Almost an hour,” Julie said.

“Everything okay?” I said.

The doctor ignored me. “We’re going to perform a cesarean delivery.
Nothing to be worried about. The baby’s heart is beating a little fast. Suggests he’s under some stress is all. Possibly while he was moving around, getting ready to be delivered, he managed to get a little tangled up with the umbilical cord.”

A man with a bed on wheels entered the room with another man behind him.

“But what about my doctor? He’s not here,” Julie said.

“I just spoke to him. He will be here in a few minutes and will join me in surgery. Mr. McKinney, we will show you where to scrub up and change into surgical greens,” the doctor said.

My stomach dropped. I pretended it had not and clapped my hands together. “Okay. Let’s do this,” I said.

I wasn’t fooling anyone. Julie just stared at me. Her hand was on my arm. “Chase.”

“Everything is going to be fine.”

The orderlies, or transport techs--
whatever , moved Julie from the bed she was in to the one with wheels, pushed her out of the room and I followed.

In the operating room, both doctors stayed on one side of a drape that separated Julie at the shoulders. We could hear the operation taking place, but could not watch what was being done.

I spoke softly to my wife the whole time. Told her repeatedly that everything was going to be fine, and that I loved her. She cried the entire time. Her eyes were closed and tears just spilling down her cheeks.

When a baby cried, my breath caught in my lungs.

Julie opened her eyes. Her lips moved, but no words came out.

I felt heat in my face. My eyes watered.

Our doctor came around the drape with our baby in his arms. He lowered his cloth mask. “It’s a boy!”

“A b-boy,” I said. Now, there was no way to hold back the crying.

“He’s okay?”

“He was definitely fighting with the umbilical cord. We’re going to give him some extra air, but he should be just fine,” he said.

“Can I see him?” Julie said.

The doctor handed the baby to me.

His little eyes were open. “He’s awake,” I said, and leaned as closely to Julie as I could.

“You scared us,” Julie said. “You scared me so bad.”

 

 

# # #

 

 

“Chase, your daughter needs you,” Erway said.

I was hugging my son. Holding him in my arms. Pressing him tightly to my chest. In my head, over and over, I kept thinking that everything is going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.

Charlene was still on the other side of the bed, her face buried in the sheets, her sobs muffled by the mattress.

“Chase,” Erway said. “Go to your daughter.”

“I can’t,” I said, “I can’t put him down. Don’t make me put him down.”

She put hands on my shoulders. “Chase, your son is gone. Charlene needs you.”

He had been so tiny when he was born. “We need to fix this. You need to help him,” I said.

Erway left me. She knelt next to Charlene. “Come here, baby,” she said.

Charlene lifted her head. Her eyes were swollen, red.

I rocked back and forth with Cash in my arms.

“Daddy,” she said.

I couldn’t put him down.

“Daddy, please.”

When I couldn’t move, Erway hugged my daughter.

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