by Akart, Bobby
“Anyhow, I tried to save his life, which is what I do,” Angela continued. “Donna had some Ativan, a form of lorazepam—a common sedative. It was my only alternative to the barbiturates that are normally used. Because Frankie was unresponsive, I had to inject the sedative into his body. The first thing I did was reconstitute the Ativan by dissolving it in a calcium-free solution of glucose—”
Meredith interrupted her with a question. “If he was unconscious, or even in a coma, why did you need to sedate him?”
“Because the body’s best way to recover from a serious head trauma like Frankie endured is to be in a comatose state,” replied Angela. “I used the Ativan to medically induce a coma.”
“What?” asked Cort. “You intentionally put him into a coma?”
“That’s right,” replied Angela defensively. “It was the only way to save his life.”
“He deserves to die!” Meredith raised her voice, prompting Blair to step forward.
“Well, it’s a good thing he didn’t, right?”
Meredith sheepishly looked at the ground and fiddled with a few rocks at her feet. The group stood silently for a moment as they contemplated Angela’s treatment and Frankie’s condition.
“How long?” asked Cort.
Angela looked at the hopeful eyes of the group. She understood they all had mixed emotions. All of them couldn’t care less if Frankie Scallone lived or died. At this point, he was nothing more than a source of information. She also knew that the minute they had the location of Hannah, Frankie would be killed. The only question in her mind was who’d get the honor of doing it.
“Cort, it’s hard to tell. There are three stages of disordered consciousness, which includes coma, the vegetative state, and a minimally conscious state. At this point, his body is battling to survive, and the sedative-induced coma will hasten that recovery, odd as that might seem. If I take away the sedative, he might recover and enter a minimally conscious state. Then I’ll be able to see if he opens his eyes and is capable of responding to basic commands.”
Ryan asked, “What are the ramifications of bringing him out of the artificial coma too soon?”
“At this point, the medically induced coma, coupled with keeping his body temperature reduced by positioning his gurney away from the fire and close to a partially cracked window, is preventing his brain from swelling. The coma reduces the energy requirements of the brain, which reduces the blood flow and pressure, thus allowing the brain to rest.”
Cort shook his head and Meredith became impatient. “Angela, please. How long will it take to bring him out of the coma so we can find out where my baby is?”
“Every patient is different. A quick withdrawal could have deadly consequences or possibly put him into a vegetative state. Under most circumstances, I would wean a patient off the sedative. Then I’d monitor the intracranial pressure and his seizure activity to decide if he should be placed back into a medically induced coma.”
Meredith began to cry again and buried her head in her husband’s chest. “No. No. No. This can’t be happening.” Her muffled voice could barely be heard by the group.
Cort comforted her but then matter-of-factly stated the bottom line. “He could die if she pushes him too hard. Then we’ll never know where Hannah is.”
Chapter Four
The Armageddon Hospital
The Haven
A solemn Cort and Meredith entered the hospital after promising not to disrupt Angela’s care of Frankie. They were now keenly aware that their daughter’s life might depend upon keeping the man alive.
The entire group entered, causing a sizable crowd in the space that already contained Tom Shelton, who was recovering from a gunshot wound; his wife, Donna, who periodically checked on all of the patients under their care; and several members of the Haven who’d received relatively minor injuries.
“Meredith, please, come take a seat and let us take care of your scrapes,” said Donna in a soothing voice. The two women had bonded since the moment they met. Under these unusual circumstances, they’d learned that they shared a common thread—both of their husbands had secretive, close relationships with George Trowbridge.
“Okay, thanks,” muttered Meredith as she found her way to a seat next to the wood-burning stove. As she sat down, she couldn’t take her eyes off Frankie, who was located at the far end of the room.
Cort helped his wife sit, and then he moved out of the way as Donna lovingly used fresh water to remove the dirt and debris from Meredith’s wounds. Angela knelt down to take a better look at Meredith’s knees and shins. Then she reached out to take her hands, injured when Meredith tried to break her fall.
“These aren’t serious, Donna,” started Angela. “There’s no need to use stronger cleansing solutions such as hydrogen peroxide, iodine, or rubbing alcohol. They might serve to irritate the wound. Cool, clean water should be fine for now.”
“She’s still bleeding a little around the knees,” Donna observed.
“Yes, I see.” Angela looked up to Meredith. “We’re going to apply some gauze on your knees. Can you hold it in place, applying firm, direct pressure?”
Meredith nodded.
Angela continued. “Meredith, I know you’re distracted, but I need you to concentrate on yourself for a moment. Don’t raise the gauze to check on your wounds because that could start the bleeding again. If you feel blood seeping through the dressing, just let us know. Okay?”
“I will, um, and thank you, Angela. You know, for explaining everything to me so calmly. I mean, I know I was rude out—”
Angela smiled and rubbed Meredith’s arm. “Are you kidding me? I’d be out of my mind if it were one of my kids. You’re a far better mom than I am.”
Meredith managed a smile. “I doubt that, but thanks.”
Angela turned her newest patient back over to Donna and approached the rest of the group, who were hovering over Frankie’s gurney.
“I thought I saw his eyes move,” said Cort as Angela approached them.
“Well, that’s a good thing; however, it’s not what you’re hoping for,” she began. “The good news is that eye fluttering, or movement, as you called it, means that the patient’s brain is still functioning. He’s most likely dreaming rather than reacting to external stimuli. It doesn’t mean that he’s about to wake up.”
“Let me guess, the next thing you’re about to tell us is that standing over him like this isn’t gonna bring him out of the coma, right?” asked Ryan.
“That’s right,” replied Angela with a wink.
Blair was the first to step away from Frankie’s gurney, and she wandered over to Tom, who was sitting upright in a chair next to a couple of other wounded security personnel.
“How are you guys doin’?” she asked.
“I’m the worst of the bunch,” replied Tom, who was older than the other two men combined.
“The doc said we can go back to our cabins soon,” one of the other men offered. “We’re ready, but I think she’s worried about infection.”
Blair smiled. “Here’s what I’ve learned about our Dr. Rankin. This is her domain, and it’s not a good idea to argue with her. I’d follow her orders.”
“Oh, yeah,” one of the men added. “She read us the riot act already. Heck, Tom had to argue with her just to get off the bed and sit with us.”
“How did you win the argument, Tom?” asked Blair.
Tom laughed and replied, “Oh, I made a promise to talk American history with J.C. He’s really a smart kid and it’s my pleasure to do it.”
Blair glanced over her shoulder and noticed two people approaching from the direction of Haven House. “All right, guys, get better.” She quickly turned and headed toward the front door unnoticed. She slipped onto the front porch into the cooling early evening air to confront the new arrivals—Will and Karen Hightower.
It only took a moment for Blair to realize the grieving parents had arrived at the hospital to exact their revenge on Frankie.
/> “Blair, is he still alive?” Delta demanded answers. “I wanna see the murdering son of a—”
Blair stood fast and held her hands up to force Delta to stop. “No, you can’t. At least not now. Please hear me out.”
“Why?” countered Karen. “He killed our son. He doesn’t deserve to be treated by a doctor.”
Blair had her hands full and backed up a couple of paces, instantly wishing she had one of the guys as backup. “It’s complicated. We need him.”
“Why?” asked Will aggressively.
“Hannah Cortland was kidnapped by the attackers, and Frankie is the key to finding her. Apparently he knows where their hideout is, or whatever.”
Delta stopped Karen’s progress toward the door. “Frankie? Why would he even be involved with people like this? And why would they kidnap Hannah?”
“There are a lot of unanswered questions, but all we know, for now, is that they are holding Hannah, and a note they sent to us via drone read that Frankie knows where to find her.”
“What do they want? Money?” asked Karen.
“Cort,” replied Blair. “Listen, like I said, there are a lot of unanswered questions. Angela has to keep him alive and bring him out of a coma so that we can get information from him.”
“Coma? Is that because I hit him?” asked Will.
“Look, seriously, you guys,” began Blair as she moved closer to them both. “There are two parents inside who are frightened for their little girl. You guys have lost a son and have a daughter who needs you. Please take her back to your cabin and hold her tight. She’s a precious child and needs you right now. Okay?”
Karen nodded and pulled at Delta’s arm. “Let’s go, Will. There’ll be time to deal with him later.”
Before they walked away, Blair asked one more question. “Listen, can you guys think of anyone Frankie might know around here? I mean, anywhere in North Carolina. A relative, friend, ex. Anyone?”
Delta responded, “We had a buddy on Philly SWAT who moved to Charlotte, but I don’t know anything other than that. Well, wait. Maybe he got a job with the county. I’m not sure.”
“Got a name?” asked Blair.
“Yeah, Kenny Williams. That’s all I remember.”
They left and Blair breathed a sigh of relief. She’d defused another potential confrontation. The stress was beginning to get to her as well, and with so many unanswered questions, she really needed to take Ryan back to the house and sort it all out. She walked back inside to gather up Ryan and Alpha.
“Listen, guys, it’s getting crowded in here, and I just turned the Hightowers away, who were determined to deal with Frankie themselves. Let’s go outside, okay?”
The men followed her, and after discussing Angela’s treatment plan, Blair bottom-lined it. “If Angela moves too quickly, Frankie could die. If she doesn’t try, Hannah could die.”
“Wonderful,” added Ryan sarcastically. “All we can do is wait.”
Chapter Five
Haven House
The Haven
Alpha agreed that the waiting game was all they had at the moment. In the meantime, there was a lot of gunfire that had probably attracted the attention of the locals. He left the Smarts at the front of Haven House and went down to the front gate to make sure their security team remained on the lookout for law enforcement. He also suggested that Blair and Ryan prepare to meet with the families of the three residents who had died repelling the attack.
Ryan and Blair entered their home in a state of exhaustion. Intuitively, the princesses of the palace could tell that it was not playtime. They remained on the sofa, studying Ryan and Blair’s demeanor. The Roo, who was especially in tune to the Smarts’ state of mind, studied them both as first Ryan and then Blair flopped on the overstuffed sofa next to her. Her eyes followed them and attempted to read them. Somehow, she knew. She always knew.
Neither of them uttered a word as they both snuggled a pup. Their lives had changed dramatically since that fateful night when they’d won the lottery. All of their carefully thought-out plans had come to fruition. However, they were barely a week into the collapse of society, and they’d lost three of their own; plus a young girl had been kidnapped.
“Well, jeez, Ryan. I don’t know where to start.”
“Me neither,” he said, gently scruffing his fingers along the underside of Chubby’s mush. The pup, completely unaware of what was going on, twisted and turned her head so that Ryan could hit every spot. “The problem you and I face is what to do next.”
Blair grimaced and nodded. The two were on the same page, as always. “I feel terrible for Hannah, and we need to find her, but Alpha’s reminding me that we have families of dead loved ones to visit really struck a chord.”
“I know. I feel responsible for these people. Sure, they’re grown adults and they made their choices to come here. By the same token, I know they looked to us for protection. I mean, in a way, didn’t I kinda promise them that?”
“Sort of, but not really,” replied Blair, who sat a little taller on the sofa so she could face Ryan. “They all knew the risks and, if it becomes an issue, I’ll be glad to remind them that their alternative is to be out there.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder.
“Okay, we’ll do the best we can to console them. But here’s the thing. We don’t know what’s coming next. This whole drone message-delivery thing could be a trick. You know, to draw us outside the walls and leave our security weakened in the process. We have all the residents to consider, not just the Cortlands.”
“I agree, but Cort and Meredith won’t see it that way,” added Blair. “If we can get Hannah’s location out of Frankie and if we can come up with a viable plan to rescue her, then we have to decide how much of our security manpower we assign to the task.”
“That’s a lot of ifs,” said Ryan, shaking his head. “I can feel where they’re coming from. If one of our girls got hurt or killed, I’d be madder than a hornet. Nothing could stop me from going after the people responsible.”
“Okay, but would you expect everyone to join in, regardless of how dangerous it was?”
Ryan’s shoulders visibly slumped with the realization that not everyone would join the hunt. “I guess not.”
“Neither should the Cortlands,” said Blair. She tried to lift the mood. “I’m not saying that we won’t try. That little girl was adorable, and she was also helping us defend the Haven. That makes her a soldier, in my opinion. We don’t leave anybody behind, you know?”
“Yeah, I agree.”
Blair continued. “That said, we can’t send the entire cavalry and leave the fort unprotected.”
Ryan sighed and lifted himself off the sofa. He walked toward the fireplace and mindlessly adjusted picture frames that held photos of Blair and the girls. There were images of Christmas celebrations as well as one of the entire family sitting on the front porch of Haven House. He smiled at the fond memories and reminded himself as to how lucky they were. He turned to Blair.
“We’ve got to do what we can, but we need more information. If Frankie dies, we’ve got nothing. Heck, he could lie or try to escape before he talks.”
“I’ll torture him myself,” interrupted Blair.
“I have no doubt,” said Ryan with a chuckle. He thought for a moment and then made a suggestion. “We’ve got an asset who could help. Maybe X-Ray can access some kind of cameras or satellite or something? Anything that can keep us from relying on Frankie waking up and telling the truth.”
Blair threw her hands up. “How do we know we can trust that little weasel? After I had him locked up in the toolshed out back, he’ll say anything to get loose.”
Ryan shrugged. “For now, he’s all we’ve got. Do you wanna give it a try or not?”
“Here’s the thing, he isn’t doing us any good tied to the hitching post in the shed,” she replied. “We have to decide what to do with him anyway. If I stand over him and watch him work, I can learn a little about the computer equipment he has.
If we kick him out or execute him, we’ll still have his stuff.”
“I vote we try to use him.”
Blair stood and adjusted her clothes. “Yeah, might as well, but you and I’ve got some families to see. This has been a rough day, but it’s nothing like what they’ve gone through.”
Chapter Six
Haven House
The Haven
Ryan and Blair had not dealt with the type of loss that the families of the Haven were experiencing who had lost their husbands and fathers in the raid by Chepe. They were keenly aware that tragic death and loss was a fact of military life, whether the nation was at war or not. However, the contribution of the Haven’s residents toward the security of all who resided there was far from military enlistment, but their job was similar, nonetheless.
Without having experienced the violent death of a loved one, it was difficult for the Smarts to express their condolences. Naturally, Ryan tried to offer hope and even tried to find the words to fix their grief. Some were open to his sympathy; others were bitter and closed off. They certainly weren’t ready to embrace hopeful statements about the future.
By the time they reached the third family, Blair realized that it was best to simply say “I’m sorry for the loss of your husband.” This enabled her to get on a personal level with the grieving family.
Above all, the Smarts offered words of reassurance. The families of the fallen warriors who defended the Haven were now part of the Smarts’ family, and all of the others who resided there. Their loss had become the community’s loss. The loved ones were promised that everyone would be there for them if needed.
Tears were shed and hugs were exchanged as the harsh realities of life in the apocalypse hit home. It wasn’t about some fantasy of playing soldier with your buddies or rummaging around your neighbors’ homes looking for stuff you could use. A post-apocalyptic world was about real people and whether they lived or died.
