“I’ll be okay,” said Samantha, “It’ll pass.”
Both women let out gasps as the curtains were flung open by the ambulance driver. “Quick!” he said, “There’s been an attack. They need a doctor.”
“Where?” asked Lucy as she picked up her medical bag and began to head to the ambulance. Samantha followed, the sick feeling in her stomach gradually getting worse.
“Up the road,” he said.
“Do we have any details?” asked Lucy.
“Yeah, I got told to get you, and head up the road until we hear gunshots and see bodies. Are those enough details?” he said, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Dick!” muttered Lucy as her and Samantha got into the back of the ambulance. The two hazmat men sat there, with their masks already on. They didn’t turn their heads this time, and they already had their sidearms drawn.
Samantha and Lucy nearly lost their footing as the ambulance wheels spun away, causing black streaks on the tarmac. Both women fell into their seat and gripped it as the engine revved higher. They could hear other vehicles behind them, probably carrying soldiers.
In all this time, they had never been called to an actual attack scene. Their pulses raced and Lucy turned to look at Samantha who was physically shaking. She took hold of the nurse’s hand. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay,” she said, only half believing the words herself. She tightened her grip as the sound of two vehicles overtaking the ambulance almost deafened them.
“It’s just up ahead,” shouted the soldier in the passenger seat, as he looked back into the ambulance.
Lucy tried to stand to get a view, but the journey was far too rocky. She didn’t have to wait long, though, as the ambulance screeched to a halt. Her and Samantha climbed out expecting to see the hazmat men following them, however, they chose to stay seated. Lucy gave them a look before following Samantha. There was a young woman, sitting on a box. Two army trucks had parked in a V shape in front of her and there was the sound of running feet and gunshots.
Samantha went up to the young woman, “Emma?” she asked, bending down to help her. Emma looked at Samantha unable to speak. She reached out and took a tight hold of the nurse’s hand. She could only look at her as the sound of gunfire proceeded down the road. Lucy came to join the two young women and crouched down next to Emma.
“Emma? Emma? Tell me what’s happening. Emma?” Lucy checked her eyes and was about to measure her pulse when Emma snapped back to reality.
“How do you do it?”
The two medics looked at each other puzzled. “Do what?” Lucy asked.
“How do you deal with being out here? Day after day.”
“What else is there?”
Emma had no response. There was nothing else now. This was the new way of life, for as long as it lasted. She sat there a moment in silence and was about to stand up when she saw three soldiers approaching. Two were armed and one was not. She noticed that the one without a weapon had blood over his front.
“Need to get him checked over, doctor. He’s been in a close-contact situation with a RAM.” The soldier who had spoken pushed the blood-caked troop forward. He started toward the ambulance then stopped and looked at Emma.
Lucy instinctively began to scan him up and down for possible injuries as he spoke, Emma meanwhile had decided she’d seen enough gruesomeness for one day and was getting ready to continue her journey, wobbly legs or not. “You’re the one who shouted out. You’re the one who warned me aren’t you?” he said, staring Emma straight in the eyes. She just nodded. “That was very brave, Miss. What you did saved my life.” He stepped forward and she instinctively took half a step back—he was covered in blood—but then stopped herself. She kept her arms by her sides, and he grabbed hold of her elbows firmly, yet with a degree of warmth. “Thank you. Thank you.” And with that, he released her and stepped into the ambulance.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lucy followed him in, and the two hazmat men turned their masked faces towards them, got up and squeezed by, exiting the ambulance. Lucy just shook her head. “Take a seat,” she said to the soldier, gesturing towards the gurney.
She put a stainless steel bowl next to him. “Here,” she said, taking the cap off a large bottle of alcohol. “Wash up.” She poured the clear liquid over his hands and into the bowl, placing some gauze down and took another wad of gauze to clean some blood on his cheek and head. “Okay,” she said after he dried his hands. “I’m going to need you to strip.”
Unlike civilians, the soldiers were used to regular examinations, so he just did as he was asked. “In my life, I’ve never been that scared,” he said as he unbuttoned his bloody shirt. “Are you religious?” he asked, taking off his t-shirt and revealing a cross tattooed on his chest.
“I used to go to church,” replied Lucy, putting on a pair of latex gloves.
“Well I’m religious, as you can probably guess,” he said, nodding down to his tattoo. “This cross, I’m sure it’s what protected me today. I’m sure the man upstairs sent that girl along to warn me.”
“I don’t know, I’m not really an expert on that kind of thing,” she replied, as he removed his trousers, boxers and socks.
Lucy started the examination. “I know one thing,” said the soldier as she leaned his head forward and carefully checked through his hair for cuts or grazes. “The Lord, he had nothing to do with those things. The RAMs were sent from somewhere entirely different.” He looked up at her, and she momentarily pulled her hands away. There was something about him that creeped her out. It wasn’t just his words, it was his faith in them. She pulled his head down again and continued the examination, a little faster than before. She just wanted to get this guy out of her ambulance.
“Did you get any saliva or blood in your mouth?” asked Lucy.
“No, nothing like that,” he said.
She inspected the rest of his body. There were some old battle scars, but nothing fresh, nothing that could be attributed to a RAM. “Okay, you can put your clothes back on” she said, reaching into an overhead storage unit. Lucy then pulled out a Toughbook, flipped it open and started typing. She took the soldiers details and then opened a different overhead unit, this time removing a syringe. She removed the polythene, took out a cotton wool ball from a small plastic jar, and said, “I need to take some blood.”
The soldier presented his arm as if it was second nature. “Take all you need.”
“You’re going to feel a nip,” she said inserting the needle and filling the syringe with blood. When it was full, in one smooth movement, she withdrew it and pressed the ball of cotton wool against the puncture. “Here, hold this,” she said while she labelled the phial, and placed it in a small plastic container. She reached for a plaster and peeled the packet open, “Okay, let me see,” she said. The soldier removed the cotton wool ball and Lucy placed the plaster over the small spot of blood. “There,” she said. “You seem fine. I’ll let you finished getting dressed.” She climbed out of the ambulance and went across to see the two soldiers who had delivered her patient.
“Well?” one of them said.
“He seems fine, but keep a close eye on him over the next few days, just in case.”
“Okay, Doctor,” they both replied at the same time.
Her patient came to join them, buttoning up his bloodied shirt. “Clean bill of health lads,” he said with a smile on his face, “I could do with a fresh shirt though.” The three of them walked away together, and Lucy suddenly felt cold as she remembered his words: The RAMS were sent from somewhere entirely different.
Lucy still had a little faith left. Not much, but a little. Was it possible? Could these things have been sent from Hell? That was crazy. She was getting paranoid. It was a virus, probably a man-made virus, something that had been developed in a lab as a bio-weapon. But still—the dead returning to life. That was… She shook her head. She had enough to worry about without throwing questions she would never know the answer to into the mix.
&
nbsp; She walked to the front of the ambulance and saw Emma leaning up against it with her box of rations beside her. Samantha was holding her hand and talking to her. “We ready to go?” asked Lucy.
“I said we’d drop Emma off,” said Samantha.
“Hell, that’s the least we can do,” replied Lucy. “You saved that guy’s life.”
When they climbed into the back of the ambulance, the hazmat men had reappeared. They had removed their masks and were talking to one another. Lucy just looked at them with contempt. The short journey to deliver Emma safely to her home was in virtual silence, and no sooner had she got out of the ambulance than the wheels began to turn again, and before long, Lucy and Samantha were back in their cubicle awaiting the next procession of check-ups, and sipping coffee out of paper cups.
“That guy,” said Lucy, “The one I had to do the medical on. He said something that really freaked me out.”
“Go on,” said Samantha, before taking another drink.
“He thinks these things were sent from Hell.”
“What things?”
“The RAMs.”
“That’s mental,” said Samantha.
“Is it? I mean, isn’t it as valid an answer as any other? I mean…Jesus. The dead are coming back to life Samantha.”
Samantha leaned forward and reached out to put a hand on Lucy’s leg. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, sure, I’m fine. He just...he just creeped me out a little, that’s all.”
“I’m not surprised,” replied Samantha. “That’s the last bloody thing you’d want to hear after the morning we’ve had.”
“Knock, knock,” said a male voice before a chubby cheeked man wearing a pair of oversized glasses on his face poked his head through the curtains. “Is the clinic ready for business?” he asked. “The coach has arrived.”
“Yep,” said Lucy, “Ready and raring to go.
The morning and early afternoon went quickly as soldier after soldier came through the curtains for a basic check-up and to give a blood sample. Lucy and Samantha worked well as a team. Before Samantha, Lucy had worked with a number of nurses, but the pair of them had gelled. It was almost as if Samantha knew what Lucy needed without her saying it. They broke for lunch and returned to the fast food van. They each took a slice of pizza and a side of fries before heading to the double decker canteen once again. Downstairs was full this time, so they headed to the upper level which they had to themselves. They sat down and looked out at all the milling bodies. It was easy to identify the civilians. They all wore high vis vests. A different colour for a different time slot. Simple but ingenious. A way to make sure nobody was breaking curfew.
“You’re still thinking about what that soldier said to you aren’t you?” said Samantha.
Lucy smiled. “You know me too well.”
“Listen, we’ll get done here, head back to base, then go and chill again with Zofia and Amelia. You’ll soon forget about him then,” said Samantha.
“Actually, that sounds like an awesome plan,” replied Lucy. “So they’ve made a few bottles?”
Samantha laughed. “Those girls are a bloody cottage industry.”
“Cool,” said Lucy looking at her watch. “It’s one-thirty. We’ve got another eight check-ups. We should be out of here by four at the latest.”
The pair of them sat in silence for a while, eating their food and watching the figures below. Considering the circumstances, the food was good and it wasn’t long before they were staring at empty plates. They sat back in the comfort of the chairs and let their meals digest for a few minutes. They looked out of the window again and watched the activity below. There was a wide cross section of people collecting rations. Some had come ready with shopping bags. Some were leaving with rubble sacks full of provisions. Others carried boxes. Some were old, some were young. Some men, some women. Some black, some white. All with stories to tell.
“I wonder how Emma got on,” said Samantha, almost laughing. “Mike would have been so pissed off.”
“He looks like he could have a temper,” replied Lucy.
“He was sent to a young offenders institute,” Samantha blurted. By the odd look on her face Lucy could tell she had not meant to divulge this.
“For what?”
“It’s a bit sad, but… He beat a priest half to death,” said Samantha.
“What?”
“Mike’s mum got cancer and it was a slow, drawn out death. When she did pass away, Sammy asked the priest if her mum would go to heaven. The priest said no, but he’d pray for her soul.”
“Wait a minute, what?” said Lucy.
“Mike’s mum had divorced Mike’s and Emma’s dad, and the priest had no intention of sugar coating the word of God. Sammy broke down, and Mike just lost it. It took three men to stop him.”
“Sounds like the priest had what was coming to him,” said Lucy.
“So, yeah, he has a bit of a temper, but he’s a good guy. I remember how he was with my sister when they were going out. Very caring, very protective, respectful. You don’t see much of that these days,” said Samantha.
“Ain’t that the truth.”
“C’mon, let’s get done here, and we can go back and drink Blackberry vodka ‘til we pass out,” said Samantha, smiling.
“Oh man, that sounds so good.”
CHAPTER NINE
There were just two more check-ups left to do when the ambulance driver burst through the curtains of the cubicle.
“Good job I didn’t have somebody in here, isn’t it?” said Lucy.
“I checked,” said the driver. “We need to go. We’ve got a call.”
Lucy and Samantha looked at one another and suddenly the smile that had been building behind their eyes in anticipation of the evening ahead vanished. They both knew what ‘a call’ meant.
“Of course we do,” said Lucy.
“I’ll be out front,” said the driver. “I’ve already sorted the other appointments out. There are rations being distributed in Kippax tomorrow. It was Doctor Ramirez and Olivia due there, but it’s going to be us now. They’re heading up there too, so you can give them their medicals then.” He disappeared back through the curtains.
“Shoot!” said Lucy.
“Our girls night in is looking less and less like it’s going to happen, sweetie.”
“C’mon,” said Samantha, helping Lucy pack the equipment away. “We could still be back at the base in time for dinner. We can have a few. It’s not like we’re driving or anything.”
Suddenly time stopped for Lucy. Samantha carried on talking, but Lucy didn’t hear a word. She got up and headed out of the cubicle. “I just need the bathroom,” she said, leaving Samantha to finish gathering all the equipment together.
Lucy almost stumbled into the small toilet, steadying herself on the wash basin in front of the mirror. She looked at the woman facing her and pulled out the small plastic bottle from her pocket. She stared at it a while, then flicked the top open and tapped out one of the small white tablets into her palm, before choking it back.
Everything had become a trigger. Any hint, any clue, any memory. She did not know if telling people made it worse or better. For the time being, she chose to tell no one about her Charlie, and she would deal with the triggers herself. Maybe soon, maybe not. She was getting closer to Samantha, she felt she could trust her and maybe her friend could help her; help her stop falling to pieces when an innocent reference about drinking and driving was made. “Oh Charlie,” she whispered looking into the mirror.
Then she saw her, through the glass. It wasn’t a grubby, white tiled toilet any longer. It was a beautiful garden. Charlie was sitting on the lawn with a look of pure elation on her face as she watched a ladybug crawl over her hand. Lucy was stepping onto the well-tended grass, bringing ice cold lemonade on a tray. She put it down on the black wrought iron garden table and headed over to where Charlie was sitting. The little girl put a finger up to her mouth, signaling for her mum to be quiet. Lucy kn
elt down beside her and the two of them watched as the red and black spotted insect paused, as if it knew it was being regarded.
“It’s pretty,” whispered Lucy.
“I’m calling her, Lady. Can I keep her mommy?” whispered Charlie.
“You can’t keep her, honey,” said Lucy.
“Why?” asked Charlie, confusion taking over the look of happiness that had been on her face.
“Because as happy as you and I are sitting here now, that’s how happy Lady is. But if you take her and put her in a jar, it will be like putting her in prison. It would be like someone locking you up in a room and never letting you out. But out here, we can all be happy. We can all enjoy life and each other. We can all enjoy what mother nature gifted us with.”
“I don’t want to put her in prison. I just want her to be my friend,” said Charlie, twisting her hand as the little creature walked around it.
“She is your friend, honey. This is her way of saying ‘hi, pleased to meet you’. I bet you a barrel of donuts she’ll keep coming back to say hi. We won’t always see her. Sometimes she’ll just sit on a flower and watch as you play,” said Lucy.
The confusion and anxiety disappeared from Charlie’s face, and her expression was filled with happiness again. There was a small breeze and the ladybird stopped and tensed, and when the breeze stopped it flapped its wings and launched into the sweet summer air. Charlie and Lucy watched it fly, both of them marveled at the simple beauty and purity as it propelled its black body with such delicate wings.
When it had disappeared from view, Charlie flung her arms around Lucy. “I love you mommy, so, so much.”
“I love you too, sweetie.”
“So if I can’t have a ladybug, can I have a puppy?”
Lucy burst out laughing. “Oh Charlie, you are one of a kind.”
“Can I mommy? Can I? Can I? Can I?”
“Listen, things are a bit hectic at work at the moment, but in the Fall it should get a bit calmer. I’m not saying yes, but I’m not saying no. We’ll look at it then, okay?”
Almost as if not hearing her, Charlie continued. “I’ll walk him and I’ll brush him and I’ll feed him and we can call him Marley, like in the film, and he can sleep on my bed so we won’t need to buy one for him and he will protect us,” she said living out a lifetime in a moment in her little head.
Safe Haven (Novella): Before Safe Haven (Lucy) Page 4
