Pierced by a Sword (47 page)

Becky had already attached Amy to her breast for the first meal of her life–at Joanie's urging, Becky had read two books on natural breast-feeding and had decided to give it a try.

Joe put one hand on
Becky's head and another on the body of his daughter, intoning solemnly, "Dear Jesus, I consecrate this child to the Immaculate Heart of Your Mother."

"Amen," Joanie whispered.

"Amen, Joseph. Amen," Becky repeated.

The midwife cleared her throat. "Whenever you're ready, Mrs. Jackson, just buzz the nurses' station. They'll need to weigh the child and do a few things."

6

Saturday Evening
15 June
North Caldwell, New Jersey

It was dark by the time Chet, Nathan, and Denny loaded food, water, and first aid supplies into knapsacks. The walk to Greg Wheat's house took less than ten minutes. There was very little traffic on the streets. When they first climbed up a residential street across from Essex County Airport, it seemed like there was no one around. Then they began to notice the dim light
of candles in the homes which remained standing. One family was cooking a meal on a portable grill in the backyard. Two children huddled in blankets even though the temperature outside was quite warm.

Nathan thought better of walking up the driveway when he noticed the shotgun leaning on the tree within reach of the husband. The father smiled and waved at them.

Two teenagers were shooting baskets
in the moonlight in another driveway. They ignored Chet, Denny, and Nathan. Several men were at another large house, trying to move debris from a Jeep Cherokee in a garage, shouting and cursing as they lifted a large wooden beam.

Water streamed down the center of the street. It must have been coming from a broken main.

This is surreal,
Nathan thought.
It's like a science fiction movie.

They came
upon an overweight man in a dirty business suit who was sitting on the curb, sobbing. Chet approached him and asked if he needed any help. The man waved Chet away. When Chet persisted the man began to scream at the top of his lungs, "Leave me alone! This is all your fault, you filthy priest!"

Chet felt instant confusion. The man stood up and took a step toward him. Chet backed away.

Nathan stepped
between them; the man stopped in his tracks, looked at Denny and Chet, and collapsed on the ground. He began to sob again. "Leave me alone," he cried softly.

"Let's go, Chet. Remember why we're here, buddy," Nathan said, taking Chet's arm firmly and pulling him away. "Greg and his family are just around the corner–one more street."

"The whole world has changed..." Chet said distantly.

"Get a grip,
Chetmeister," Nathan said firmly.

Chet shook his head back and forth, but said nothing.

After what seemed like an eternity they reached Greg Wheat's house. It was a modern colonial set back from the street. The remains of the unattached garage, where Chet had stayed briefly after getting kicked out of Notre Dame du Lac, sat at the end of the long driveway. The garage had collapsed. Mindy's Taurus
could be seen in the rubble, covered with broken wood and white dust from drywall. A couch from the apartment rested on the roof of the car.

Greg's Ford Explorer was parked in the driveway next to the house. The back gate of the vehicle was open. An oak tree had crashed through a wall on the opposite side of the house and there was a large crack in the foundation next to the front steps. The steps
themselves were damaged. The whole house looked a bit off-kilter.

"Look! Light!" Denny called as he ran up to the side door of the house. He had seen a flashlight flicker in the kitchen window on the side of the house near the Explorer.

"Greg! Greg! Mindy! It's me! Denny! It's me, Denny!" he yelled, his voice echoing off the damaged homes surrounding them.

"Denny!" Greg shouted as he came out
the door, holding a stuffed suitcase in his hands. Greg dropped the suitcase and embraced his brother. Mindy and the two children, Billy and Beth, came running out the door behind him, calling, "Uncle Denny! Uncle Denny!"

"Father Chet! Nathan! What are you doing here?" Mindy cried. She was a tall woman–taller than Greg, with dark hair. She was wearing a clean white skirt and a button-down shirt
which must have belonged to Greg. Beth, the three-year-old, was holding her leg. Billy, five, ran up to Denny, who lifted him, kissed the boy on the face, and gave him a bear hug.

"We're here to help. We flew into Essex County Airport in Denny's Cessna," Nathan explained.

"Get the kids inside," Greg ordered without raising his voice. "Now."

Mindy shared a knowing look with her husband and then
bent down to pick up Beth. "Come on, sweetheart. Daddy says we've got to go back inside."

"But it's dark inside!" Beth complained in a whiny voice. Mindy ignored her and turned to the men. "Let's all go in."

Nathan took the knapsack off his shoulder and searched through it before pulling out an electric lantern, which he turned on and showed to Beth.

"Turn it off, Nathan," Greg said. "Not outside.
It's not safe."

"Okay," Nathan replied, flicking off the lantern.

They went into the house through the side door.

Father Chet and Mindy took the children into the dining room with Nathan's lantern and distracted the children while Denny, Nathan, and Greg had a powwow in the kitchen. Greg lit a holy candle for light and closed the window shades.

Greg told them what had happened during the earthquake.
He and the children had been outside playing in the front yard when it hit. Mindy was working in the garden in the backyard. Greg dove to cover his children as the earth itself shook abruptly. "It rolled like the ground was one gigantic water bed."

All around him Greg heard the sound of buildings creaking and cracking. The neighbors on either side were out of town–on vacation down the New Jersey
shore. He spent much of the afternoon helping his neighbor across the street climb out of the rubble of his house. The man, unmarried and not a close friend of Greg's, had a broken arm and walked off to find a hospital.

Other neighbors had gathered in the street to exchange notes. Water was out. The phone lines were also out and the cellular phone lines–those that were working–were jammed with
calls. Cellular phone relay stations were apparently down in the area. One neighbor brought out a portable television and played it off the cigarette lighter of his car. No New York stations were broadcasting and the reports from the two local New Jersey stations were spotty. The governors of both New York and New Jersey declared a sundown curfew for non-rescue workers. According to the radio stations,
the National Guard had been called in to assist. Only one New York radio station–an FM light music format–was on the air, and it was playing "Feelings" over and over again.

Estimates of casualties were already in the tens of thousands for New Jersey, and hundreds of thousands in New York City. Neither Greg nor his neighbors found it easy to accept the radio reports that most of the taller skyscrapers
in New York were no longer standing–including the Empire State Building. There was an amazing, unsubstantiated report that the rock that was Manhattan Island had split right down the middle of 42nd Street, which was completely filled with water. Apparently, the epicenter of the quake was within a mile or so north of Manhattan Island. New Jersey had suffered relatively moderate damage. The
quake had been felt all the way up the Hudson River Valley and there was serious damage in Albany. Buildings as far north as Montreal had suffered minor damage.

"If it hadn't been a Saturday, I might be dead–or worse," Greg observed coolly. He worked in New York for a large law firm. "I believe with all my heart that God inspired me to take the kids out to play ten minutes before the quake. Who
knows what would have happened if we were inside? That tree crashed right into the room where we were playing before we went outside.

"I'm kind of disoriented. The quake hit less than seven hours ago," Greg said. "What should I do next? I've been hearing gunshots for several hours. I'm scared. This is the only candle in the house. I don't have a gun. I haven't seen a cop since this happened. One
radio report said that looting has started in Newark. I was loading the Ford to see if I could make a break before things get worse. I wasn't sure where to go, though. I was thinking of driving west 'til I found a hotel. Somehow I don't think I'll be going to work on Monday. I doubt the building is still standing..." Greg trailed off after the rush of thoughts were expressed. His voice had started
to tremble.

Nathan noticed how much Greg looked like Denny. Greg had darker hair that was tinged with first gray, and an almost identical build. Greg had a small paunch.
You've done a good job holding things together, Greg. I fell apart on a simple plane ride while you were keeping your family together here. What I'm going to suggest next is going to be a hard pill to swallow...

"I have a suggestion,"
Nathan offered calmly.

Greg looked up, waiting.

"I suggest we take you, Mindy, and the kids and get as far away from here as possible. It's relatively calm outside right now. I think people are in shock, wondering what to do next, listening to radios for information. But that's going to wear off. The emotional shock won't last forever.

"I don't know this for sure, but I think the financial repercussions
of this quake–if it's as bad as it sounds–are going to plunge the country into an instant depression. This might trigger the social unrest predicted on your dad's CDs. Business is shut down indefinitely around here, and food might become scarce. It's going to get dangerous.

"Driving might not be the answer. The roads heading west are going to be jammed by sun up, and many are not functional right
now from what we saw on the way in. Flying is the only way out for now. You and Mindy and the kids can fit in the Cessna–Chet and I can stay behind–"

"No, wait!" Denny said loudly, taking hold of Nathan's arm, "I have a better idea–"

"We can't drive out, Denny. You saw the streets–" Nathan interrupted.

"Not driving. Flying," Denny said with a certain thoughtful look on his face. "And we can all
get out together. With more people if we want, too, maybe. Let me explain..."

+  +  +

One hour later, Greg gave Nathan a new pack of Marlboro Lights, and Nathan left alone in Greg's Explorer for Bloomfield. He had Denny's gun tucked in his jacket pocket. Driving as fast as he could, it took him an hour to complete what was normally a fifteen-minute trip. More than once he had to throw the Explorer
into four wheel drive and leave the road to drive around car accidents, trees, and debris in the road. Twice he was forced to backtrack when he ran into huge crevices which he could not cross.

He finally found his way to the condominium where Chet's parents lived. It was just off of the main street in town, Bloomfield Avenue. It was not far from where Nathan had attended grammar school at Our
Lady of Lourdes.

It was strange–this section of Bloomfield seemed untouched by the quake and had suffered relatively little damage. Nathan had encountered such "pockets" of normalcy several times during his trip. One street would be perfectly free of confusion or damage; the next would be utterly destroyed, every building turned to rubble.

James and Mary Sullivan were not in their condominium.
Nathan found them with a young married couple in the condominium next door. The newlywed couple, the O'Briens, were close friends of James and Mary. The O'Briens often attended daily Mass with the Sullivans. Ronnie O'Brien worked in a bagel shop he owned with his wife Gloria. After a moment's deliberation, Nathan offered them a chance to leave with the Sullivans. He explained Denny's plan.

At
first, James and Mary Sullivan didn't want to leave their home. Nathan was confused because James was retired and none of their children or relatives lived in New York or New Jersey. James and Mary had grown up and married in Boston before moving down decades earlier.

Nathan persisted. After an hour's debate, he finally convinced James and Mary to come with him. He persuaded them that they could
always return after things settled down–though in his heart he doubted things would ever be the same. Near the end of the discussion, the five people were interrupted by the sounds of running on the street outside. There were gunshots, shouting, and cursing. It was a gang of young men.

Nathan watched through a slit in the curtain, his .45 drawn. He saw one of them fire a pistol at Greg's Explorer
from twenty yards away, shattering the back window. Nathan felt slightly foolish holding the gun. He had never fired a gun, although Denny had given him last minute lessons.

They waited for ten minutes until the gang moved on. The Sullivans and O'Briens packed a change of clothes, some personal papers, and many photographs into a few boxes. James and Mary also brought a small strongbox filled
with four dozen gold coins–representing over half their life savings. They quickly loaded the Explorer and jumped in. It was now past three in the morning and eerily quiet. Smoke from fires clouded out the moonlight. Nathan started the utility vehicle and quickly pulled away. James began to lead everyone in the Rosary. Nathan, distracted by the darkened streets and obstacles, was only able to pray
half the responses.

A few minutes later, he took a left hand turn onto a side street and stopped suddenly. Mary screamed. Nathan ordered everybody to be quiet and get down. He felt adrenaline drop into his spine and chest like cold electricity.

Ahead of them, less than forty yards away, was the street gang they had seen earlier.

They were pulling television sets out of a storefront and loading
them into a gray stepvan. One turned and shouted when he saw the Explorer. A few more youths came out of the store. Suddenly a dozen of them were facing Nathan and his passengers. Two or three had handguns. It was hard for Nathan to see clearly in the dark.

Nathan quickly kicked into reverse and spun the Explorer around in a driveway.

Gunshots rang out. "Get down!" Nathan shouted. Mary and Gloria
screamed, clinging to Ronnie. James crouched next to Nathan in the front seat and continued praying his Rosary, but louder. Nathan hit the gas and drove away from the gang, which was now running toward the Explorer. A bullet ripped through the windshield to Nathan's right, causing a spidery web of glass to blur his vision on that side. He could hear the wild cries of the pursuers behind him.