Yield (80 page)

THUD-THUD-THUD
…
THUD-THUD-THUD
…

The constant booming of anti-aircraft guns at the periphery of the camp creates a steady rhythm in the soldiers
’
ears. It drowns out their own words even as they shout them. Gratitude and terror lurch past as more and more people push into Seattle
’
s bustling refugee camp.

One of the soldiers quickly shoulders his weapon. Impulsively, he moves into the crowd, spotting an injured woman being carried toward them in the distance. His eyes go wide.

The limp body is pregnant.

He rushes to them, gently brushing the Hispanic woman
’
s hair back from her pretty face.

“
She
’
s unconscious,
”
the redhead carrying her shouts.
“
Maybe head trauma.
”

The soldier turns and screams behind him to the other guard.
“
Radio back to the aid station. I need a medic. Now!
”
There
’
s an urgency in the man
’
s voice that slices right through the chaos.

A swelling choir of fear combines with machine gun fire on both sides. It envelopes them, drowning out all voices like a sonic black hole. The spinning rotors of military helicopters roar overhead. Dirt and dust whip all around them, thundering toward the rear of the camp. The deafening noise almost pulses in the air. Every sound shoots down to the bone.

“
Medic to the north gate!
”
the other soldier barks into his handset. More bodies push him aside as refugees now run unimpeded through the entrance.
“
Critical injury. N.Y.D. Medic to the north gate. Now! Over.
”

Minutes tick by. Devin looks around, feeling Isabel
’
s body stop shaking in his arms.
“
Where the bloody hell is he?
”

“
They
’
re on the way, sir.
”

A wiry soldier wearing a white and red cross on his sleeve over the green fatigues finally arrives at the gate. The man is sweating profusely as he kneels beside Isabel. He takes her wrist and times the unsteady beats.

“
She went down and hasn
’
t regained consciousness,
”
Devin yells with a cracking voice.
“
There were people all around, just running over her. I couldn
’
t
…
”

“
Quiet!
”
the medic shouts. He jumps to his feet and leans over to check Isabel
’
s breathing. The soldier looks up in alarm when he hears none.

“
What
…
”
Devin trails off. His words are silenced by the look on the man
’
s face.

The medic spins back to the other soldier, pulling his face close.
“
She
’
s not breathing,
”
he hisses, pointing to the camp
’
s rear.
“
We have to get her back to the medical station
.
N
ow! Clear a path!
”

The wiry man turns to Devin, his arms out
for
Isabel
’
s limp body.

“
Not on your blooming life, mate,
”
the fireman growls. His eyes flicker dangerously.
“
Just lead the way.
”

The medic takes a step back from the intimidating man. Nodding, he puts his arm behind Devin and escorts him forward into the mob. The soldier sets off ahead of them, barking and pushing at the people still blocking their path.
“
Move! Out of the way!
”

The sun dips below the horizon in their eyes, illuminating the camp in a fiery haze.

Seattle
’
s toxic rains ease into submission
,
their barbed fury retreating under a steady wind. Clouds cut across the landscape. They pulse southward, searching.
Devouring
. The water
’
s bite is savage, eating into everything along its path. A trail of venom erodes both vegetation and structure. Lightning flickers inside the burnt orange that blankets the horizon. Glowing sparks shoot down as Armageddon
’
s wrath moves on undeterred.

Cautiously, the fireman leads the others out onto the decaying freeway. Vehicles on both sides are streaked down to the steel. Rust grows quickly along their bodies
,
the pockmarked metal breathing deeply at the fallen sky.

Devin
’
s eyes dart up, looking around for new storms. But the clouds of copper and red have all continued on their own exodus away from the dead city.

“
I think we
’
re through the worst of it,
”
Jacob says. His granddaughter is up on his shoulders again, chewing happily on a granola bar.

“
Sure hope so, mate,
”
Devin says. He tries to smile, but the tightening skin along his forehead thinks differently. The fireman
’
s eyes keep drifting nervously upward. Clouds stretch angrily across the horizon.

“
The prevailing winds are at our back now,
”
Jacob reassures.
“
Those will catch a lot of the particles and scatter them up across the atmosphere. They
’
re hottest here but should dissipate some the farther the winds take
‘
em.
”

“
Should?
”

Jacob
’
s face stiffens. The forced hope in his eyes fades to a growing certainty of what is to come.
“
Plutonium is real nasty stuff, Devin. It
’
s deadly for miles out in all directions.
”

“
Lovely.
”

Between chunks of asphalt and abandoned vehicles, Terra notices a flock of ravens up ahead. Her eyes brighten. It
’
s the first sign of
animal
life they
’
ve seen outside the city. The black of their feathers almost blots out the colorless pavement. As they get closer, Terra
’
s graceful stride skids to a stop.

Thousands of the dead birds lay scattered all along the roadway. Huge clumps of feathers are completely singed from their bodies. She shudders.

The birds are still steaming.

Chris moves quickly around her, using his body to shield the view.
“
No need for that, now. Let
’
s go see how Izz is doing.
”
The basketball star quickens their pace.

“
Don
’
t,
”
Isabel snaps.

“
What? I didn
’
t even say
…
”
Chris starts.

“
You didn
’
t have to,
”
the pregnant woman interrupts. Isabel holds the sides of her stomach up to help ease the throbbing pain in her lower back.
“
Looking like this, I
’
m asked a thousand times every damn day. How are you holding up? How
’
s the baby?
”
She looks over at him, her left eyebrow shooting up.
“
I
’
m speed walking in my third trimester, Chris. My back hurts like hell, my feet are swollen, and I
’
m pretty dang pissed off about it. Okay?
”

“
Okay,
”
Chris says in his most soothing voice. He looks back at Terra with wide eyes.
“
Maybe we shouldn
’
t see how Izz is doing.
”

“
I
’
m pregnant,
”
Isabel chides.
“
Not a status update.
”

Terra lets go of Chris
’
s waist and puts her hand gently up to Isabel
’
s shoulder.
“
Can I help?
”
her soft voice whispers.

Surprised, Isabel looks back at the normally silent teen.

Terra
’
s hand peeks out from the rolled-up white sleeves of Chris
’
s letterman jacket, her fingers outstretched. She lifts the bag strap up and over Isabel
’
s shoulder with surprising strength. The teen puts it over her own without a word, settling the weight behind her.

“
Girl, if I could reach you over the top of this beach ball,
”
Isabel says, rubbing at where the thin strap had been digging into her skin,
“
you
’
d have to fight off some
serious
huggin
’
.
”
She sighs, grateful for the twenty pounds she just shed.
“
Don
’
t suppose you can do anything about this one?
”
Isabel runs a hand over her enlarged belly.
“
I love kids, but this oven is so done, honey.
No más
. My husband
’
s Chiquita banana can find a new damn pastime!
”

The teen slowly smiles back.

“
Can I get that?
”
Chris points. His own chivalry is suddenly gnawing at him.

“
I
’
m fine,
”
Terra says, clutching the bag strap. A growing strength flashes in her eyes.

More and more survivors join them, continuing south down the freeway. Hours drift on. Time itself seems to slow while the rhythmic march of tired feet ticks away. The procession of the walking hopeless grows. Bodies seem to double and triple at intervals while teeming over the fractured landscape.

Fiery clouds still fill the sky, blocking out all blue from above. They haven
’
t seen that color in days. It
’
s as if the world itself will never again feel the uncorrupted touch of the sun
’
s gleaming kiss or taste the cool cut of winter pushing under a cloudless day. Instead, the wind rustles out of a darkened sky through the groves of browning trees they pass. It creates a steady
noise
,
h
arsh and uninviting. The leaves wither and fall, billowing unseasonably all around them.

Jacob cocks his head. A familiar sound echoes in the distance.

“
What?
”
Devin asks.

“
Maybe nothing,
”
Jacob says. He looks unsure. His eyes scan the sides of the mob, looking for gaps.

Sierra
’
s feet shuffle tiredly alongside him. She glances up. Her grandfather
’
s grip continues to tighten around her hand.

A buzz soon begins to ripple across the crowd. Murmured words spread like wildfire. The unintelligible excitement grows, gasping like life itself.

“
What
’
s going on?
”
Devin asks, tapping the woman
’
s shoulder in front of him.

“
Sounds like there
’
s a camp being set up for refugees ahead.
”
Renewed energy fills her face.

“
‘
Bout bloody time!
”
Devin says. He cranes his head to the side, trying to peer around the sea of bodies. Pointed shapes are faintly visible in the distance. They
’
re surrounded by the sparkle of something metal.
“
I was beginning to think we
’
d be walking the whole blooming way to Portland.
”