by Glyn Gardner
She moved around behind the door. Perfect. She crawled to the other two. She had them move so they were in the corner on the side the door opened. That way whoever came in would have to enter the room and would have their back to Theresa. She could do this.
The wait seemed to last forever. Finally they all heard the click as the door was unlocked. A figure walked into the room, looking at the two kids crying in the corner. It took Theresa a minute to realize the person entering the room wasn’t Mrs. Hebert. It was a young girl. And she was carrying a tray with plates and glasses on it.
It was too late. She was already racking the slide on the shotgun. The girl was about Theresa’s age. The sudden sound behind her caused her to drop the tray of food to the floor. The crashing of dishes brought the door guards rushing into the room.
Theresa tried to keep things from escalating but couldn’t control the situation. The guards drew their weapons on the young girl and began to shout. This scared both her and the girl at whom she was pointing the shotgun. The girl began to scream
Other adults began to flood into the doorway. One was obviously the girl’s mother. She began screaming hysterically when she saw the newcomer pointing a gun at her child. Theresa couldn’t get a word in over the shouting and screaming adults. All she could do was rotate around the girl so that the girl shielded her from the horde of panicked adults.
Finally things settled a little as the adults realized that Theresa wasn’t going to just shoot the girl outright.
“Please,” the mother pleaded. “Please don’t hurt my baby.”
Theresa couldn’t see the girl’s face. She imagined that her face mirrored the terror on her mother’s face. Heck, Theresa thought, I’m sure I look like that too. Time to be a big girl, she told herself.
She leaned her head towards the girl. “Don’t be scared sweetheart,” she whispered ever so quietly. “I really don’t want to shoot you.”
“Where is my family?” Theresa demanded of the adults. “I want to know where my family is right now or I’m going to shoot.”
“They’re fine,” answered one of the firemen.
“I need to see them right now!”
The door to the room Sgt’s Brown and Procell were in opened. Sam Reynolds entered. SSgt Brown could see he was again stressed.
“We have a problem and I need your help,” he announced. Both men could hear the tension in the fireman’s voice.
SSgt Brown leaned back in his chair and interlocked his fingers behind his head. He and Sgt Procell had been locked in this room for the better part of two hours. Both had their weapons taken from them, under protest of course.
During the course of the questioning by Mrs. Hebert, it was decided that SSgt Brown and Sgt Procell bore some responsibility for the death of Sam’s daughter. Sgt Procell was driving a vehicle on the wrong side of the road and SSgt Brown had ordered him to do so. Both were placed under arrest until their new hosts could decide if they had actually committed a crime.
SSgt Brown had learned that after things fell apart, and this group had banded together, they had adopted some rather interesting “laws”. The most concerning right now was the law that stated that any living human, who through negligence, action, or omission, causes the death of another living human was subject to punitive action.
“Go on,” the soldier said with a smirk.
“We have a hostage situation and I need your help.”
“Hostage situation?” Sgt Procell asked. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” the Captain started. “One of the kids in your group is holding one of our kids at gunpoint with a damned shotgun.”
SSgt Brown couldn’t control his laughter.
“What the hell is so funny, Sergeant?” Sam demanded.
“You spent all that time separating us and disarming us and you didn’t disarm the toughest troop I have.” He continued to chuckle. “If that little girl is pointing a gun at someone, you’d better do anything she asks or be prepared to bury someone.”
“Well, she wants you. She’s demanding to see her family.”
“Her family is dead. She watched her brother shoot himself in the head after he fell into a horde of zombies. That girl has a few demons running around in that pretty little head of hers. You’ve got yourself a problem there.”
“Are you going to help me or are we going to have to shoot that little girl?”
“You willing to lose a kid?” SSgt Brown demanded as he rose from the chair.
“No, I’m not willing to let a mother watch her kid get blown away from a crazy assed teenager.”
Good, thought SSgt Brown, he had some leverage.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll make a deal with you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter that the chopper pilot had dropped. He tossed it to the fireman. Captain Reynolds looked at it.
“Is this real?”
“I don’t know about the river patrols, but the crew chief of a CH-47 dropped it while we were policing up your injured man. I have no reason to doubt it.”
“So, what do you propose?”
“I propose we get the hell out of here.” The fireman gave him a puzzled look. “Here is my proposal: One, you drop all the charges against me or any of my people. You can have your lawyer tell your folks that we weren’t part of your group when the accident happened, and did not fall under your laws at the time, something like that.”
The fireman nodded his head in agreement.
“Two, you agree to keep a majority of my group under your protection while I’m gone.”
“Where are you going?”
“Look, my big truck is in-op. We can’t all fit in my Humvee.” He paused for a moment as he mulled over who to take with him and who to leave behind. “So, I’ll take Theresa, Sgt Procell, and Pvt Jackson to the river. We’ll flag down a boat and have them send a chopper here. That CH-47 should be able to evacuate everyone here.”
“I think we can work that out. Just one question though,” Sam said. “How do you know your people will be safe here while you’re gone?”
“Oh, I forgot about that part.” A crooked smile began to show. “I’ll be taking your Ms. Hebert with me. Call it an exchange of hostages.” Checkmate!
The fireman thought about the soldier’s proposal. He sure didn’t want any harm to come to anyone. He wanted so badly to believe that there was hope outside of this fire station. Plus, Ms. Hebert could be quite a pain in the ass. She had, in fact, been a personal injury attorney before the world died. He didn’t envy SSgt Brown and his people if they took her along for the ride.
“Ok, you got a deal.” The two leaders shook hands. SSgt Brown believed it was the first time he’d seen Sam smile.
Theresa was terrified. She was beginning to realize she hadn’t really thought this through. She didn’t know how long she’d been holding the gun to the girl’s back. But, it felt like forever. She was hungry and had to pee. The sweat from her hands was making the gun slick in her hands.
She heard the sound of combat boots walking down the hallway before she saw them. The entire family was there in the doorway. They were all armed. All of the others had backed away; all, that is, except the little girl’s mother and the older man. He stopped behind the girl’s mother and whispered something into her ear. She looked at him, shaking her head. He whispered something else into her ear and she retreated.
SSgt Brown spoke first. “Theresa, can you put the shotgun down?” He spoke in a very calm even voice. She wanted to, she so wanted to. But, she didn’t trust the others. They had taken her family away from her. They would try it again.
Jen stepped forward. She smiled. Her voice was soft and slow. She made Theresa feel at ease. She explained the situation to the young girl. She spelled out the deal SSgt Brown and Captain Reynolds had struck. She left out the part where Theresa left with the soldiers.
“You’re sure we’re going to be ok here?”
“Do you want to leave?” Theresa nodded
her head “yes”.
“Then you can go with Sergeant Brown. He can take you somewhere safe.”
Jen held out her hand to the NCO and snapped her fingers. He reached into his pocket and produced the note. She held it for the girl to see.
The girl began to sob again. Theresa lowered the shotgun. SSgt Brown grabbed it and made it safe. The girl ran to her mother. Theresa cried. Jen stepped in, embracing her.
“We’ll have to clear the front of the building before you guys can leave. You attracted a crowd when you got here,” the fireman announced. “In the mean time, let’s get some dinner. You guys can move out in the morning.”
As they passed, he told SSgt Brown he still needed to tell Mrs. Hebert of their deal. He advised SSgt Brown to watch the next round of fireworks.
Ms. Hebert took the news relatively well. She put up a fight, but in the end, she saw the wisdom in it. She grudgingly agreed to travel with the soldiers.
Day 23
The fire station
Jen and Mike were up early, sitting at the table in the kitchen. The table was more like two metal picnic tables, covered with a blanket. There were several firemen at the table drinking coffee. They were talking amongst themselves and paying Mike and Jen no attention.
Mike couldn’t blame them. After Theresa’s little stunt yesterday, most of the people in the firehouse didn’t seem to trust the group of newcomers. There were the sideways glances, the hushed whispers and the stares as they walked past. Mike had to admit he definitely didn’t feel welcomed at all.
Just as he was thinking this thought, Captain Sam Reynolds walked in. The firemen turned as one and greeted him. He answered each one by name, shaking a hand here and patting a shoulder there. It was obvious that these men respected him.
After the pleasantries were finished, he sat down next to Mike, and across from Jen. “How are you two doing this fine morning?”
Jen was too busy actually enjoying her first hot cup of coffee in almost a month. She simply nodded at the fireman and let Mike do the talking.
“Wonderful,” he answered. “Kind of enjoying having a couple of nice hot meals.”
“How long has it been?”
“Well, we had a few warm meals last week, nothing great; instant oatmeal, warm MRE’s, and we did have some instant coffee a few days ago.”
Both Jen and Mike felt a wave of depression hit them as Mike mentioned Father Albright and his instant coffee. Sam could see the look on their faces and knew something was wrong. Jen told the story. They had rescued Lt. Cruzan and his men, Sgt Procell being one of them. They had also found a priest who had apparently been infected. He soon died and unexpectedly attacked the Lieutenant.
Just as they were finishing the story, Pvt. Jackson came into the room. To Jen, he looked sick. The young soldier poured himself a cup of waterand sat down next to Jen without getting breakfast. Jen could feel the heat coming off of the young trooper. Damn, she thought. He’s got a fever.
She touched the young trooper’s head with the back of her hand. Wow! His head was hot!
“Jackson,” she asked in her best nurse’s voice. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Not good Mrs. Jen,” he answered. “My arm is killing me.” He tried to raise his arm but he couldn’t. Jen could see a large dark stain forming under his armpit.
“Sam, do you have somewhere I can take a look at Private Jackson’s arm? He injured it a few days ago. I’m afraid it might be getting infected.”
The Captain led them to an office that had been converted to a treatment room by one of the paramedics. His name was Shane. He and Captain Reynolds were the only two firemen in the station who could actually save a life, the man bragged.
“He means he and I are the only two paramedics here. The rest of these guys are either straight fire eaters or only have EMT training.”
Shane was shorter than Sam and his short dark hair made him look decades younger than his Captain. His face brightened up when he was told Jen was an ER nurse. If there are two groups in the world who tend to get along better than any other, its paramedics and ER nurses. After only a few minutes, Jen had the same feeling of long lost camaraderie
Jackson had his shirt off and the trio could see the long streak of foul-smelling bloody puss draining from the wound and down the young man’s side. Jen had been correct, the wound was definitely infected. The entire armpit was swollen, red, and hot to the touch.
“Holy hell!” the young paramedic exclaimed. “What the hell happened?”
Jackson looked down in embarrassment, “I stuck myself with my own bayonet a couple of days ago.”
Jen looked to Shane. “I need some gauze, a clean knife or scalpel, and something to numb it up or some pain medicine. Then I’m going to need some antibiotics and something to keep it open and draining for a few days. Don’t suppose you have any iodoform gauze do you?”
“Ma’am,” he began. “We don’t have any scalpels, iodoform gauze or antibiotics. I can get you lots of gauze and a good sharp knife. That’s really about all I can do for you.”
“How about something for pain?” the young trooper interjected. “Ya’ll talking about cuttin’ my arm and it’s gonna hurt like a bitch. Can you numb it up or something?”
Jen looked at the younger fireman. He, in-turn, looked to the older man.
“Go ahead,” he told the paramedic. “Give it to them”
Shane reached into the desk and produced a small vial of medicine. The label read Fentanyl. He handed it to Jen. He reached into another cabinet and pulled out a large needle and syringe.
“Don’t you have any IV’s,” she asked. Fentanyl is a powerful pain killer and is generally given into a person’s IV.
“Only have a few and we save those for emergencies,” Sam replied. You can either go IM or we have insulin needles if you want to go into the vein.”
She thought about it for a second. Jackson was young and healthy. His veins looked pretty good.
She administered about half of the vial of Fentanyl to the trooper into one of the veins in his right arm. The effects were pretty fast. Jackson could feel warmth spreading over his entire body. He was tired and relaxed at the same time. His breathing slowed, but not dangerously. He lay back with his left arm above his head.
“Ok, Jackson,” Jen began. “This is gonna hurt a bit. Just hold still as best you can.” He nodded his head and continued to smile.
She made a large incision into the top of the swollen area. More brownish-pink pus gushed out of the wound. It smelled bad. Shane had to step away from the table as he fought back a gag. Jackson winced once, that was it.
Jen continued to apply pressure to the base of the wound in order to squeeze out as much of the vile pus as she could. At one point she asked Shane to get her a towel. There was just so much of the foul fluid draining from the wound that she couldn’t contain it with the little gauze pads. Finally the fluid that emerged when she squeezed became a deep red. She decided that she had finally drained as much of the pus from the wound as she was going to get.
The swelling had gone down significantly and now the wound was draining blood. She took a piece of gauze and stuffed it into the wound. This would keep it open and allow the wound to continue to drain the pus out. She covered the entire area with a stack of gauze pads and taped everything in place.
Satisfied she had done all she could, she told the others in the room that this was a temporary fix. She advised them that he was not fit to travel, and that she needed antibiotics, or he may not survive the infection that had set into the wound. She knew he was supposed to travel with SSgt Brown, but that was not possible now. He would have to be replaced.
She found Mike in the same spot she had left him. He was talking with SSgt Brown and Sgt Procell. She sat next to her husband.
“We have a problem,” she announced to no one. “Jackson can’t leave.”
SSgt Brown stopped chewing. “Why not?” he asked with a mouth full of scrambled eggs.
“His wound is infected and he’s spiked a fever. I just gave him some pain meds, and he’s pretty much zonked right now. He’ll be ok in an hour or so but his fever isn’t going anywhere. He needs medical attention. He does not need to go trucking over half a hundred miles of zombie infested roads.”
SSgt Brown’s face turned into a scowl. He didn’t like going anywhere without Jackson. Jackson had been a rock steady trooper since Iraq. He had stepped up and been SSgt Brown’s inner source of strength. He was always there doing the right thing. He never had to worry about his back if Jackson was there.
But, SSgt Brown thought, it was something more. Jackson was the only one of his troops who was still alive. He still had one trooper he could bring home alive. He didn’t relish the thought of not being able to take care of him. He felt that paternal instinct that all good NCO’s have over their troops. He couldn’t stomach the thought of being the only survivor of his unit. He was the squad leader. His two responsibilities were to the mission and to his men. Jackson’s death would somehow mean that he was a complete failure.
“You sure he can’t travel?”
“I never said he can’t travel,” she replied. “I said he can’t leave. He needs medical attention and should therefore stay here.” She could see the look of concern on his face. “Don’t worry Sergeant Brown; I won’t let anything happen to him. I’ll treat him like he was my own husband.”
“In that case,” Mike interjected. “You might want to take him with you for his own safety.”
The group shared a collective laugh.
Shane walked in about that time, followed by Sam. They sat down next to SSgt Brown and Sgt Procell.
“So, you about ready to hit the road,” Sam asked.
SSgt Brown reported that they were not and explained the Jackson situation. Shane volunteered to go with the group. He reminded them that he was a paramedic. As Jen would be staying to care for Jackson, then he could go with her guys and take care of them. They all agreed.
“Great, get some breakfast and meet me in the bay in thirty minute,” he ordered. To Sam, “Tell Ms. Hebert we’re leaving in 30 minutes.”
