by D A Carey
As a free community, people could come and go from C-Town as often as they liked. While the leadership team was concerned for the welfare of the Hanovers, at least they brought back news from Louisville on those visits.
The Hanovers had recently proposed that Ellie’s farmers market should trade with the FEMA camp at Louisville. Ellie had to admit intrigue at the idea. If she could trust their boats, goods, and people not to be impounded and arrested under martial law, she would be excited about the idea of helping those in the city and getting some trade goods that were becoming scarce in the country.
Carol and Steve shared a few developments in the city with the C-Town leadership. Apparently the FEMA camp leaders were depositing tons of debris in the Ohio River under the Second Street bridge in order to create a levy with a breakwater behind it. That was where the FEMA barges were currently unloading government troops and supplies. At the same time, the Louisville leaders established their own trading fort about a mile upriver at what was once a huge modern restaurant called Tumbleweed on the bank of the Ohio River. There was an island in front of the building and a channel in between that gave boats a natural place to stop. It appeared that the government was turning that location into a combination trading post and casino. Only a few people were using it, since people distrusted the government not to arrest them and confiscate their goods in much the same way Ellie was concerned.
“Kate, it’s time to go,” Matt said.
“I need to tell my mom. I can’t just leave her and Malcolm and not say a word.”
“I thought we discussed this and you were going to leave a note? You know she will get all hysterical and demonize the government in Louisville. You’re not a child anymore and can live where you want. Besides, Louisville isn’t that far away. You can visit when you want and even see her more if C-Town will trade with Louisville. It seems to me you could be instrumental in getting trade started between C-Town and Louisville and helping with the national recovery.”
“Where will I live?”
“We’ve been through this. You and I will live together.”
“It feels wrong to ‘shack up’ as my dad would call it.”
“C’mon, Kate, you’re a modern woman. This isn’t the fifties. We’ll make things more permanent when the time is right.” Matt pulled her in for a hug.
“You’re assuming a lot, Mr. Hanover.” Kate smiled. She didn’t like being taken for granted, yet she cared deeply for Matt and couldn’t stay mad at him, and he knew it.
“Are your bags packed and is the note written?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s get going. If you don’t like it there, I’ll bring you back here. I promise.” Matt smiled in a way that could have sold cars.
“Are you sure this professor you mentioned wants us all there and will support a trading agreement?”
“Yes, it’s all in place. Let’s get going before your mom comes back and things get frantic here.”
Reports of My Demise
“Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.”
- Mahatma Gandhi
<< Liz >>
Liz dreaded seeing Vince’s body. She slowly approached the Bronco with Mary and Anoop trailing respectfully behind her. The plan was to move him to the field near the amusement center and find some soft ground. Anoop had seen a tool shed near the building where they could search for shovels to dig with.
Liz opened the back of the Bronco. “Mary and Anoop, if each of you can take an arm up near the shoulder, I’ll get his feet.”
Anoop took the shoulder closest and pivoted Vince’s body out of the Bronco so Mary could grab the other.
Mary got close to try and absorb Vince’s weight. When his head lolled against her arm, she screamed. “He breathed on me!” She dropped Vince, while Anoop struggled to hold him on the bumper and not let him hit the ground.
Liz rushed forward and helped push him back into the Bronco. “What happened?” she screamed at Mary.
“He breathed on me. His breath was warm on my arm!” Mary said hysterically.
Anoop reacted fast, touching Vince’s neck and putting his ear to Vince’s mouth. “This man is not dead,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Mary, run and get Christy and Aditi as fast as you can. Anoop, help me put pressure on his wounds. I don’t know why he didn’t bleed out. I can only guess that the cramped condition in the Bronco restricted the blood flow.”
Aditi and Christy came running. Anoop spoke rapidly to his daughter in Hindi, and she immediately checked Vince’s pulse and breathing, proclaiming, “This man is alive, but barely. We need to get him inside immediately. I will stop the bleeding as much as I can and hope the internal wounds are not catastrophic. Christy, I need you to work with my father to do some rudimentary blood tests on everyone here. He knows where my things are. Start with the injured man so we know his blood type.”
“Okay.”
“Transfusions without full hospital blood tests are extremely risky. I won’t do it if you ask me not to,” Aditi said to Liz with gravity. “However, he will die without receiving blood. Frankly, he may die anyway. I don’t know why he isn’t dead already.”
“Anything you need, we will do,” Liz said desperately.
“What I need is your assurance that if this man dies, you won’t retaliate in anger against my family. He’s near death right now. Nothing I do may be enough.”
“You have my word. Tell us what we can do to help,” Liz responded desperately.
“We need blood, and I need help applying pressure to his wounds while I probe inside with my fingers. I’ll locate and sew up the damage as best I can. I’ll have to use my knowledge of anatomy and feel for damage without the benefit of x-rays or CT scans.”
Vince’s wounds were so many. Liz cried in fear of losing him all over again, and she cried in anger at the time lost when she thought he was dead. She barely noticed the prick in her arm when Christy took her blood.
A few minutes later when they confirmed Liz had the same blood type as Vince, Christy and Mary traded places with her, applying pressure to Vince’s wounds. While Aditi feverishly worked to get the first round of sutures complete, Anoop prepped Liz for a blood transfusion with Vince. A part of her was happy she was the one with the closest blood type. It made her feel like she was helping. Another part of her was terrified at the prospect that it could be her blood that might kill him because they couldn’t completely test it.
The longer the transfusion took, the sleepier Liz got from the blood loss. Aditi and Anoop found a couple of cans of Mountain Dew somewhere to perk her up and replace some fluids then disconnected the IV and led her to a couch to rest.
<< Vince >>
Vince woke lying on a hard surface. He ached too much to do anything except croak like a tired frog. His muscles weren’t strong enough to move his arms or legs, leaving him in a panic that he may be paralyzed, too weak to cry out for help.
A dark-haired woman sat next to the table he was laying on, her forehead resting on her arm where she’d fallen asleep. When Vince croaked slightly louder, she woke and immediately began asking how he felt and checking his wounds. Vince could only croak. Somehow she understood what he wanted and tipped a water bottle to his mouth, allowing small amounts of the liquid to trickle in.
While Vince drank, the woman yelled, and others came into view. Vince’s eyes sought out Liz first. Her face was pale as a ghost, she had bags under her eyes, her clothing was torn and covered in blood, and her hair was tangled. She was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
“Beautiful,” he muttered with his raw vocal cords. Her eyes tear filled, Liz reached down for a hug so slight it was like feathers brushing his cheek.
Vince could only nod slightly as they sat down and enlightened him as to everything that had happened since he was shot. He was strongly aware of Liz’s hand in his and squeezed it gently from time to time.
Mary and Anoop entered, ap
ologizing for interrupting. Mary addressed Aditi directly. “Can Vince and Junior be moved?”
“It would not be wise. Junior could tear open stitches and bleed out if I don’t re-close the wounds immediately. Vince’s condition is more critical. He has some internal bleeding, but I can’t operate because I don’t know where the bleeding is coming from. Even if I did know, I would wait. Liz can only give him blood sporadically, and Vince needs to build up his strength first. Why do you ask?”
“Your father and I have been keeping watch. People are poking around this place in increasing numbers. I ran off a couple by pointing a gun at them, although they didn’t act too scared. I suspect they’ll be back with friends.”
“We need to move,” Vince croaked. “We have medical facilities in C-Town.”
“Vince, we can’t make it that far. You can’t make it that far,” Liz nearly cried.
“We need to go.” Vince paused a moment to catch his breath. “Don’t make me be the cause of other deaths.”
Liz could see the anguish in his face. She turned to the others. “Let’s get him loaded up.”
As he was being placed in the back of the Bronco, Vince asked Liz to describe where they were so he could help advise where to go.
The group had the extra fuel cans on the Bronco from Turk-Town and topped it off as well as Aditi’s BMW SUV. Anoop drove that car with Mary and Aditi’s daughter Sheetal. Christy rode shotgun in the Bronco, while Aditi sat in the back with the seats laid down and both her patients reclined as much as possible.
Vince instructed Liz to stay well south of the Nashville population center on Highway 412 and then find back roads going toward the central part of the state. From there, they could head north to C-Town, and Vince knew the roads much better. They were lucky to make it south of Nashville and through Columbia, Tennessee, during the night.
By the middle of the next day, they were exhausted and down to a couple of cans of fuel. Vince had been asleep for a couple of hours. Aditi monitored his color and labored breathing and chose to let him sleep. Liz made the decision to stop at a location on a lake near Sparta, Tennessee. Wonder Lake was surrounded by secluded homes, and Liz chose one with an overgrown yard and a for sale sign. They got the cars hidden and broke into a house. Liz was beyond caring about the law.
While Liz searched through the house for a screwdriver, Aditi pulled her aside and said quietly, “We need medical facilities. I can tell by his coloring that his internal bleeding is worsening. I didn’t save him. I only bought him more time. I believe I can save him if I know where the bleeding is. I can’t do it here, though, without killing him.”
“We need fuel first. Then we’ll find a hospital.” Liz headed out with an oil pan, a large screwdriver, and a fuel can. It didn’t take long to find what she was looking for. She stayed away from homes that appeared occupied and only went after cars that looked to have been left behind. Vince had told her a person could steal gas by getting under a car, puncturing the fuel tank with a screwdriver, and collecting the fuel in a pan.
It was much harder than she imagined. She was weak from all the blood she’d given, not eating well, and constantly being on the go for many days now. She needed a rock and many strikes to puncture the tank. Her hands were a bloody mess when she was done. To make matters worse, she spilled much of the gas transferring it to fuel cans. When she finally finished, she put the new fuel in the Bronco and the last of what they’d been carrying from Texas in Aditi’s SUV. When they were loading up, she told Vince where they were and stressed how they needed a hospital.
He squeezed her arm and said, “Go to Oneida.”
Liz pulled out the map and found Oneida, Tennessee, a few hours northeast of them. Marked prominently in town was Big South Fork Medical Center. Even though there might have been closer medical facilities, Liz had learned long since that things normally worked out when you followed Vince’s advice. She drove as fast as she could, intent on making it there in record time considering the conditions.
A couple of miles outside of town, Aditi’s SUV shuddered, coughed, and stalled. Something had been wrong with the last can of fuel they brought from Texas. Liz didn’t want to take time to deal with the problem. They tied as many supplies as they could on the roof and rode double up front and put a couple in the back. If they weren’t so close to their destination and the need wasn’t so urgent, they couldn’t ride that way for long.
* * *
On making it to the hospital, Liz found it guarded by local police. She did the best she could to clean up her appearance and find the person in charge. She flirted and used her most tragic Hollywood starlet voice to beg admittance into the hospital for her personal physician and guards. Somewhat flustered by the famous movie star, they allowed Liz’s group in, then Aditi took charge as if she worked there, giving orders and taking over equipment she needed for x-ray and an emergency operation. A few people protested that they were running on emergency power and the supplies were irreplaceable. Liz and Aditi were like a force of nature and would not be denied. They commandeered nurses and equipment, and Aditi expertly performed emergency surgery to stop the bleeding.
When Aditi finished and they were waiting for Vince to come around from the anesthesia, one of the nurses came in.
“You’ens better be making plans to get going,” she said.
“What do you mean?” Aditi asked, astounded. “This man has just undergone major surgery. To move him might mean his death! We’re all bound by the Hippocratic Oath.” Liz moved to stand beside Aditi.
“I ain’t saying it’s right,” the nurse said. “Nonetheless, there’s a mob out there. They might let you and him stay,” she indicated Liz and Vince, “because he’s hurt and you’re famous. But they won’t let the foreigners stay. To them, everyone who ain’t from around here is a foreigner. It’s worse if you don’t look like you’re from here. At best, they’ll run them off. Some of the others might shoot.”
“That’s preposterous. I’m a physician and have been in this country almost all of my adult life,” Aditi said firmly, yet her voice lacked some conviction remembering what happened to her husband in Memphis.
“Like I said, it ain’t right. It just is what it is. All these people know is this country’s been terrorized and bombed and people have been killed. They’re angry at everyone that don’t look like them. The police won’t keep ‘em out long and ain’t trying too hard, if you know what I mean. I can show you a back way to your truck and give you some meds. I’m sorry, that’s all I can do.”
Aditi was sad to once more be confronted with racism strong enough to be killed over. Liz was torn. Aditi and her family were part of her group by now, yet she wanted to do all she could to save Vince.
Then she heard, “Help me up,” from a voice that sounded like a frog.
They turned to see Vince struggling to get to an elbow. Both women pushed him back down.
The nurse said, “I’ll get a wheelchair and help you to your truck out back. Wish I could do more.”
“It’s not your fault,” Liz said, crying. “I just don’t know where to go or how he will handle another drive.”
When the nurse wasn’t near, Vince gripped Liz’s forearm and rasped, “Charit Creek. It’s close and so beautiful I always said I could recuperate there or die there, either one.”
After leaving the hospital and having the Bronco pelted with rocks, Vince directed them to turn right out of the hospital and make another right on a small road. As he drifted off to sleep, he said, “Wake me at Black Oak Baptist Church.”
Thirty minutes later, they woke him at the church, and Vince told them to turn left at the next major road and follow the signs for Bandy Creek Campground. When they got to the campground, he directed them through a series of gravel roads until they ran out of road at an iron bar over a horse trail.
He smiled. “This is the end of the road. We walk in from here about two miles down that hill. I just need a minute to rest first.” Liz could have sworn he chuc
kled before he passed out. It must have been the pain meds.
Liz directed Anoop to cut two sapling trees, crisscross ropes across them, and layer the ropes with blankets, fashioning a makeshift carrying bed. Everyone took turns holding one of the four corners for fifty yards or so. When at last they neared the bottom of the valley, it opened into something from a painting. A gorgeous valley with a creek and ridges on both sides unfolded, a group of two hundred year old cabins beside a couple of old barns.
And there was smoke curling from the chimney of one of the cabins.
<< Mary >>
The group stopped on the gravel path leading down into the valley. The hills were so steep that the path coming in left them peering almost directly down on the roof of the nearest cabin. Seeing the smoke gave them pause, and they moved behind some bushes to talk. Vince was fading in and out of consciousness. Junior was awake and could hold a gun yet wasn’t mobile enough to get down the path without help or do much in a fight.
“They could be good people,” Mary said hopefully.
“And maybe they aren’t.” Liz’s cynicism sounded like Vince.
“Well, we can’t make it back up that hill carrying Vince. It’s getting late, and the Bronco is nearly out of fuel,” Christy said.
“We have to take a chance,” Mary insisted. “I’ll walk down. You two can cover me with the rifles.”
“I can shoot,” Junior said. “Help me get propped beside a tree with a clear field of fire.”
Mary walked down slowly, her nerves stretched to the limit. She volunteered because she didn’t want Christy to do it, and in Liz’s current state, she might shoot first and ask questions later. It only took a couple of minutes to make her way to a bridge over a creek with a cluster of two hundred year old log cabins on her left. She paused, expecting to have been challenged by now.
