The Geostorm Series (Book 4): Geostorm [The Flood]

by Akart, Bobby

  The gaunt look on their dimly lit faces spoke volumes. Their patient had died. They were surrounded by all of the modern technology available to America’s doctors, yet none of it was operating. A barely audible beep came from a boxy device on the floor near the wall. A faint white light tried to remain illuminated until it finally succumbed, much like the patient had.

  Levi shed a tear. Then his face erupted in emotion; the weight of what he’d been through over the past week tore at him again. He thought of Jesse and Rachel, wondering how he’d feel if they were lying dead on a table like this young boy. He thought of his father, who was similarly situated, fighting for his life while capable surgeons were stymied by their inability to see in the dark.

  It was a situation being played out throughout Lutheran Hospital on that day as the loss of power began to take more lives. He cursed the backup generators for not working. He questioned who was responsible for the outage. Anger built up inside him.

  He longed for the wilderness of Northern Ontario, where life was much simpler.

  Levi began to sink within himself, forgetting his task. The noise from the corridor reminded him of the powerful jaws and sharp teeth of the wolves that tore into his friends. The solemn scene in the operating room brought back the memory of helping the mother wolf. The darkness was reminiscent of the peaceful sleep he’d had under the clear skies of Canada. Until the horrific dreams had consumed him—the gnawing, grinding, tugging of the badgers he was convinced were devouring him, like the wolves’ feeding frenzy had killed his friends.

  He felt a tugging at his pants and pulled his left arm back to swat at the pesky critter. Then he recovered from his moment of incoherence before he unintentionally slapped a young girl looking up at him.

  “Mister? Can you help me? I’ve lost my mommy.”

  Levi immediately questioned why the little girl would seek help from him, and then he remembered. He was dressed in all-white orderly scrubs he’d obtained in the supply closet. Favoring his injured right arm, Levi knelt down and scooped up the girl, who was no more than five years old. He cradled her on his hip so they were eye level. She’d been crying, as evidenced by her wet, red cheeks.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Charlie.”

  Levi leaned back to confirm the blonde young lass was a girl. “Well, Charlie, that’s a great name for a girl. Let me see if I can help you.”

  Two orderlies were hysterically shouting at people milling about the hallway to move as they forced a gurney with the body of a boy past him toward the L-shaped bend in the corridor. Levi gently cradled the young girl’s head in his hand and pulled her close to the wall.

  “We were waiting for my daddy, and then Mommy was gone. I tried to find her and now…” Her voice trailed off as she began to cry again.

  Charlie was slightly younger than his daughter, Rachel, and he could only imagine how she’d feel if lost in a chaotic environment like this one. He looked around to see if there were any parents appearing to search for their daughter. With the lack of light, it was impossible to discern any of the panicked adults’ intentions.

  “Okay, Charlie. Let’s you and me get to the nurses’ station. Your parents might be there, but most likely, they’ll come looking for you at some point. Whadya think?”

  She held him tight and tugged at his beard. “I think you need a bubble bath.”

  Levi burst out laughing, and tears welled up in his eyes at the same time. He could count on the innocence of a child to make it all better. “I can’t argue with that. What are your parents’ names?”

  “Johnny and Barbara Wilson.”

  “Okay, Charlie Wilson. Hang on tight, okay?”

  She nodded and put a choke hold around Levi’s neck. Somehow, he didn’t mind. Shielding her from being run into by others in the hallway, he pushed through the crowds, periodically shouting the names of her parents. He’d stop to listen for a response and then pressed forward. Finally, he arrived at the reception area of the children’s surgery ward. After a brief argument with a man who thought his child with a scraped knee was more important than the lost little girl, the floor nurse turned her attention to Levi.

  “Where’s your ID?” she asked.

  Levi looked down at his scrubs. He noticed the wound on his right arm had begun to seep onto the bandages. He turned his body to keep it out of the nurse’s view.

  “Um, I lost it in the hallway, I guess. Listen, I need to get back to my job. This is Charlie Wilson. She’s gotten separated from her parents, Johnny and Barbara. Do you know where they might be?”

  “You’re kiddin’, right?” she asked sarcastically.

  Levi was about to blast her, but he caught himself. “No, I’m serious. Charlie, do you have a brother or sister who is injured?”

  “No. My parents brought my new friend from the apartments. He fell down the stairs of our building.”

  “What’s his name?” asked the nurse.

  “Kenneth.”

  “Last name?”

  “Um, I dunno.”

  The nurse began to flip through pages on a clipboard, and then she rummaged through a file box full of charts. Levi looked around; the pressure of time suddenly heaped upon his shoulders.

  “Nurse?” he asked. “I need to go.”

  “Well, you can’t just leave her here.”

  “Do you have a better suggestion? Don’t you think it would be logical they’d come to you first? You know, kind of like lost and found.”

  The nurse wheeled her chair away from Levi and the girl and spoke with another nurse. Levi was feeling guilty for pawning off the child on the nurses’ station, but he needed to help save his father’s life first.

  Growing impatient, he whispered to Charlie, “I want you to stand next to this lady and don’t leave her side. Do you understand?”

  Charlie nodded. Levi set her down and patted her on the head. He reached into the cardboard boxes and pulled out two of the metal hospital chart holders. He hopped onto the elevated countertop that formed a half-moon around the nurses. He started banging the metal charts together and screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “Hey! Attention, please! Quiet!”

  He continued to slam the metal charts together, and gradually the crowd quietened to a manageable level. Levi glanced down at the nurses, who’d cowered in their chairs in fear.

  “Attention! Paging Johnny and Barbara Wilson. Johnny Wilson! Barbara Wilson!”

  “Back here!” a male voice shouted from the rear of the north wing.

  “Come to the nurses’ station! Charlie is here!”

  A woman, most likely Charlie’s mom, shouted, “Oh my god!”

  People who’d filled the north corridor began to part, allowing the Wilsons to make their way forward. Levi hopped down off the counter, reached under Charlie’s armpits, and hoisted her onto the nurses’ desk so her parents could see her.

  “Charlie?” her mother shouted.

  “Mommy! Here I am!”

  The family reunion was about to take place, but Levi didn’t waste any more time. He swung around to the nurse who was only marginally helpful. “Where are the generators?”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. Where are the hospital’s generators?”

  “They’re, um, wait. That’s an odd question. Hey, you’re bleeding!”

  Levi glanced down at his arm, which was now blood-soaked. Lifting Charlie onto the counter had broken open Isabella’s bandaging. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the nurse, grabbing the arms of her chair before leaning into her face.

  He hissed, “Where are the dang generators?”

  “North wing receiving dock, behind the chain-link fence. Please don’t hurt me.”

  Levi began shoving his way through the throngs of people down the north corridor before she’d finished her sentenced and just as Charlie’s parents yelled thank you.

  Chapter 8

  Bank of Corydon

  Corydon, Indiana

  “Well,
that went swimmingly. Wouldn’t you agree?” asked a sweaty Billy Clark as he forced his way past a Harrison County deputy and inside the candlelit lobby of the Bank of Corydon. Amidst jeers and angry voices, he was joined by his brother, Sheriff Randy Clark, and his sister, Joella, who had just been anointed the new president of the Corydon Town Council, the functional equivalent of being mayor.

  Joella, who also acted as the state’s attorney, had studied the city’s charter. She’d determined a majority of the five-person town council could appoint a new president and vacant ward representatives in the event of a national emergency if the existing holders of the posts were unavailable.

  After Bully Billy, aptly named since his days in elementary school, not-so-subtly coerced the three available members of the council to see it his way, his sister, Jo, was named the new president, and over her objections, he was appointed to the council as vice president from ward one.

  Under the protection of Randy’s deputies, the announcement was ironically made on the front lawn of the Corydon Capitol State Historic Site, a piece of history made possible by the Squire Boone family. Once the reality set in to the several hundred local residents who were in attendance, the outrage commenced.

  Demands for elections were immediate. Threats to contact the Indiana State Police were the most prevalent solution. Then a hushed silence overcame the hostile crowd momentarily as sheriff’s deputies, some of whom were former county inmates, pushed into the crowd, wearing riot gear and handing out copies of the martial law declaration.

  This was the brief respite the Clarks needed to flee the scene and hustle two blocks to the granite and glass Bank of Corydon, which had stood for over a century.

  Billy immediately found his way in the dimly lit bank building to his office and grabbed a bottle of bourbon out of his desk drawer. He gathered up three crystal glasses and approached his siblings to propose a celebratory toast.

  Joella, however, was fuming mad. “What the hell, Billy? We talked about this. The bank needed to stay separate from this political stuff.”

  Billy calmly poured each of the glasses half full of bourbon and offered one to Joella. She stood with her arms folded and refused to budge. Billy shrugged, gave Randy his, and set Joella’s on the teller counter. He raised his glass to Randy and took a big swig.

  “Here’s the thing, Jo,” he began to lie. “It was part of the deal I had to make with the other three members of the town council. They, of course, asked for some monetary remuneration. However, they were also interested in political cover. Jo, you know how these people think. It’s about self-preservation.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Billy!”

  “I’m not! I’m not. I swear.”

  Joella glanced at Randy, who shrugged. After she turned her head back to Billy, a visible smirk came across the sheriff’s face as he wandered toward the window to survey the crowd that had gathered near the entrance to the bank.

  Their sister wasn’t finished. “What possible cover could you provide them under these circumstances? It looks like we stacked the council.”

  He offered her a drink again, and this time she succumbed to his beefy smile. “Here’s the way they look at it. They see what’s going on and they’re okay with it. Frankly, they think you’ll do a far better job than that philanderer who used to occupy the position. But, because it was done under this emergency powers thing you found, they want some insurance.”

  “What kind of insurance?” she asked, suddenly intrigued by her brother’s conniving ways. For all of his faults, one of Billy’s best attributes was the ability to connive.

  “If this doesn’t go well for some reason, they didn’t want to be the only members of the council with dirt under their fingernails. They want me on there to go down with the ship, so to speak.”

  Joella rolled her eyes and laughed. “Damn, Billy. That’s the best you got? Some BS mutually assured destruction argument. Gimme a break.” She took another swig of her bourbon and stretched her arm toward Billy for a refill.

  He smiled. Bully Billy wins again.

  “Well, you’ll see over time, it was the smart play. Now that this little matter’s out of the way, let’s get down to real business.”

  Randy interrupted him. “Before you get started, let me mention that these people are really pissed off out here. I don’t have enough manpower in the department to protect our houses and the bank building. Plus, we’ll be controlling this barter market they plan on opening this week. Personnel is gonna be a real problem.”

  Billy wandered back toward his office and kicked a stack of cardboard banker’s boxes full of files. “This will be the last time I need to come by the bank. The money’s locked up in the safe, and these files are coming back to the house with me.”

  “What are they?” asked Randy.

  “I’ve handpicked some loans to review and possibly take action on,” Billy replied.

  “Aren’t they safer here? You know, in the vault?”

  “Technically, yeah. But unless your boys wanna tote the Xerox to the house so I can copy them all, the boxes will suffice.”

  Joella walked over to the boxes and opened one of the lids. “Billy, these are original promissory notes and mortgages.”

  “Yeah, so? I have archived backups in the computer systems. But if I need to modify or enforce these loans, I’ll need the originals.”

  Joella sighed. “I don’t need to hear any more. Randy, we need to continue to secure town hall. We need to at least lend the appearance of a functioning government to look above reproach.”

  Billy laughed out loud as he poured another drink. His alcohol intake had increased substantially since the power grid shut down, mostly out of boredom. Bully Billy drank to make other people more interesting. His wife had quipped he was gonna be in a world of hurt when the liquor cabinet ran dry. He had scoffed at her comment as he recalled the note and security agreement he had on the inventory at First Capitol Liquors. They were on his hit list, as he called it.

  Randy cracked the entry door and waved one of his deputies inside. He spoke to them about the crowd. He turned to his brother and sister. “All right, listen up. The word’s spreading around town about today’s big announcement and the martial law declaration. More people are heading this way, so we really need to get out of here unless you guys want to spend the night in the vault.”

  Billy finished his drink and made a suggestion. “They’re not gonna mess with you because of that badge and your armed deputies. Tell one of your people to position a car at the back door. Jo and I will get these boxes ready to go. When I give you the signal, go out front and make a speech or something.”

  “A speech?” asked Randy.

  “Look, I don’t care. Make them think you’ve got some grand announcement. It’ll draw everyone to the front of the bank, and we’ll slip out the back door. When you leave, they’ll all think me and Jo are still inside.”

  Jo smiled. “Seriously, Billy. How in the world do you think of this crap?”

  “It’s not crap, Jo. It’s called self-preservation. You’re a politician now. You’d better learn this ancient art, too.”

  Chapter 9

  Riverfront Farms

  Southeast Indiana

  “Tommy,” whispered Kristi, motioning for him to join her in the hallway. The day had been filled with getting Tommy acquainted with the farm and outfitting him with a rifle and sidearm. He also became the designated child sitter while Kristi and Carly helped Sarah can more vegetables. They had finished up for the day, and Kristi had an idea. “Can you help me with something?”

  “Sure,” he replied. Like a doting father, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Kristi, he checked to make sure all three of his charges were sleeping. Tommy still had reservations about leaving Brooke unattended with the kids, despite her small stature. While she might not be physically large enough to harm them, she was still capable of inflicting devastating trauma if her demeanor changed like Knight’s had.

  Kris
ti smiled and kissed him on the cheek. It was a show of affection that differentiated from the physical relations they’d experienced in his condominium. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her.

  “I like this,” he whispered to her. “We didn’t exactly come together under ideal circumstances, but had it not been for this crazy crap, we might not have tried.”

  She held him, and she, too, liked it.

  “You seem to be getting along with Jesse,” she began as she broke their embrace. “Whadya think about him?”

  “Good kid. A little moody, but that’s to be expected. I think he really misses his dad, but he’s trying to put on a tough exterior. You know, be the man of the house and all that.”

  “Has he said anything to you about Levi? Or even about the chance his dad may be dead?”

  “No, not at all. Truthfully, we’ve been pretty preoccupied with Brooke. She’s like a shiny new toy, and vice versa.”

  “No problems there, I hope.”

  “Nope. The three kids get along famously, as they say. There’s a little bit of a language barrier, but other than that.” His voice trailed off as he smiled. Kristi playfully slugged him and glanced toward the sofa, where they were all sprawled out.

  “Good,” she continued. “Um, Carly said Jesse seems to be having a hard time with his dad gone, and now his grandfather was hauled off to the hospital. I didn’t want to say anything in front of her so she wouldn’t be alarmed, but all of this can be tough on kids. Do you think, well, would you mind hanging out with him a little bit? Just to give him a sense of security?”

  Tommy turned to admire the sleeping beauties. “Absolutely. Earlier, Jesse told me his grandma would be assigning me a job soon. Maybe I could volunteer for his security detail?”

  “Look, he’s stirring and so is Brooke,” said Kristi, nodding in the kids’ direction. “Let me get Carly to watch Rachel, and we’ll take Jesse and Brooke for a walk outside.”