Iron Mike

by Patricia Rose

  Not to love der Fuehrer is a great disgrace

  So heil!

  *Pppffft*

  Heil!

  *Pppffft*

  Right in der Fuehrer’s face!

  (c) Spike Jones, 1942; The Walt Disney Company, 1943

  The children laughed, as Mike intended, and within minutes were eagerly raspberrying at all the appropriate points and demanding the song again and again. Ariel stopped crying, giving Mike a quizzical look that made Kari laugh even more. Several of the children were picking up the words to the song, and everything was going really well, so much so that Mike finally started to relax.

  That’s when the alien ship attacked.

  It came from nowhere. The road in front of them was completely clear. An instant later the large, jet-black craft was in front of them, moving in for a collision kill. Mike reacted more quickly than Kari would have thought possible, pulling the wheel to the right to avoid a head-on crash. There was the sound of shattering glass – Kari was certain she heard that sound first – and they went into a skid, donutting in the middle of the road. Kari braced, staring in fascination as the world spun frantically – trees and sun and highway and trees – and finally they came to an abrupt stop, off the road, the front end of the SUV buried in a ditch. Kari sat for a moment, stunned, her seatbelt locked tight around her chest, the deflated airbag drooping onto the floorboard in front of her. The ground outside was tilted slightly, making her think of a roller coaster just as it crested the peak.

  “Is everyone okay?” Mike asked. His voice sounded raw and harsh, and Ariel immediately began screaming. Anthony and Brittany joined her, and the sound was bliss to Kari’s ears. Screaming babies were not dead babies.

  Mike got out of the vehicle, slipping a bit on the slick ground, and jerked Stephen’s door open, looking in at the children. “Anyone hurt?” he asked. Stephen shook his head and checked on Anthony.

  “I have a scab on my knee,” Nathan offered helpfully. “I got it during playtime at ‘Morro’s Child.” Mike smiled at him, trembling with relief and the cold. It amazed him no one was hurt.

  “You’re bleeding, Iron Mike,” Stephen said.

  Kari got out of the car when Mike did, and she opened the opposite passenger door. At Stephen’s words, she followed his gaze, drawing in a sharp breath. A shard of glass about an inch wide and three inches long was stuck through Mike’s t-shirt, embedded in his upper arm. It had missed his armpit and the bundle of brachial nerves by an inch or more, but it was still a puncture, and Kari couldn’t remember where the arteries were.

  “Don’t touch it!” she said sharply, as Mike reached toward the glass. “It’s a puncture – we have to pack bandages around it and leave it in place.”

  “Yep. Basic first aid,” Mike agreed amiably. “Jenn, will you dig out the kit – I think it’s under the chicken.” He looked up at the setting sun and the shattered driver’s side window. “We should probably sleep in the car tonight, and start out in the morning.”

  Kari looked then at what Mike had already noticed. The Suburban’s front two tires were buried deep in the snow and mud. Nothing but a tow truck was going to move them. Kari’s head spun. They were still about twelve miles from the front gates of Fort Knox. It would be an easy hike, if it were earlier in the day and if Kari were to start out on her own, but with eleven children … she considered the thought and rejected it in the same moment. They would set out in the morning, as Mike suggested.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  “Can you bandage this up while Jenn passes out chicken and brownies?”

  The children brightened quickly at the mention of food. Kari remembered Miss Annie saying they were short on supplies, so the kids probably didn't have a big lunch. Come to think of it, she was pretty hungry herself.

  She took the first-aid kit Jennifer handed to her, closing her door and the passenger door to keep some of the cold air out.

  She moved around to Mike’s side of the vehicle. He closed Stephen’s door and leaned back against it, facing her and giving her access to the wound. She bit her lip for a moment, considering how to proceed.

  “This t-shirt was a classic,” Mike grumbled. “My dad got it at a KISS concert before I was even born!”

  “Sorry,” Kari murmured apologetically as she took the scissors from the first-aid kit and quickly cut up the left side of the shirt, carefully pulling the fabric away from the embedded glass. Blood oozed from it, dripping down Mike’s chest, but at least it wasn’t pumping out. She frowned. The glass stuck out from Mike’s arm by about three inches. That was going to be a lot of gauze.

  She set the first-aid kit down on the snow and began pulling out the small packages of 4”x4” sterile gauze pads. There should have been wrapping in the first-aid kit, but there wasn’t. Even using every bandage in the kit, there wouldn’t be enough.

  Kari stood, several bandages in hand, just as Mike looked her in the eye and reached up, yanking the shard of glass out of his upper arm. Kari gasped as it immediately began bleeding heavily.

  “That was stupid!” she yelped, slapping the gauze bandages onto the wound and pushing hard. The blood pooled, and those bandages were soon soaked through. She grabbed Mike’s right hand and slapped it over the wound before she removed her own bloody hand. “Hold that, press as hard as you can!”

  Mike grinned at her, completely unrepentant, and did as she said while she quickly unwrapped more gauze pads. She was going to need a lot more than they had.

  “Stephen,” she snapped, grabbing Mike by his good arm and moving him away from the boy’s door. “Can you get me something clean – maybe some socks from the blue backpack? Fast?”

  Stephen nodded and jumped quickly out of the car. He opened Mike’s door and popped the lock to the cargo space, something Kari herself wouldn’t have thought to do. By the time Kari unwrapped the rest of the sterile gauze pads, Stephen was by her side, unrolling three pair of her thick winter socks. He waited while Kari added more gauze. The wound was bleeding heavily, but she couldn’t see or feel the rhythmic spurting of a cut artery. The stupid boy had gotten lucky.

  “Press hard on the wound,” she told Stephen.

  He nodded and moved Mike’s hand away, pressing his palm flat on the gauze and laying his other hand above that, pushing firmly. Mike’s jaw was clenched and sweat was pearling on his forehead despite the frigid temperatures. Kari added the socks on top of the gauze, surprised at how efficiently she and Stephen worked together. He maintained direct pressure, moving his hands only long enough for Kari to add packing. Finally, the last sock stayed lime green instead of saturating with blood. Kari thought it might have been Stephen’s efforts more than her own. She began tearing strips of medical tape, but she was reluctant to have Stephen move his hands.

  After several minutes, Mike nodded to the boy. “Thank you, Stephen,” he said quietly. He looked up at her and smiled. “And thank you, Kari.”

  She wanted to snarl at him. He knew better than to yank out the glass, but he’d done it anyway.

  “Don’t fucking mention it,” she snapped as she applied the medical tape tightly over the wound. Stephen drew his hands away, and they both looked at the injury, waiting for the blood to seep through. After several moments, Kari began to breathe again.

  “There are sleeping bags in the back,” Stephen said, when it looked like Iron Mike might live after all. He bent to the snow, picking up a handful and washing the blood off his hands. “We can use those to stuff in the broken window, and keep some of the cold out, at least. You’ll need your coat back on, and some of the wind will still get through.”

  Mike grinned at the boy. “You’re a genius, Stephen!” he said happily. “I was wondering how to fix that. How old are you?”

  Stephen grinned, the praise clearly welcome, even as he ducked his head in embarrassment. “I’ll be eleven on March 1st,” he said. “Well, actually, it’s February 29th, but we don’t have one of those this year.”

  Kari s
miled, leaning forward and kissing Stephen on the cheek. “You keep a cool head, Leap Year Kid. I was more panicked than you were.”

  She and Stephen helped Mike back into the driver’s seat, and he adjusted the seatback to recline a bit more. Jenn handed Mike his red Louisville Cardinals jacket, which he carefully worked into, hissing as he moved his left arm. Kari and Stephen used both sleeping bags, stuffing them into the broken driver’s side window as tightly as they could. Luckily, the front windshield was only spiderwebbed, not broken.

  There was silence – much welcomed, Kari thought – for about fifteen minutes as the children ate. Even Ariel ate half a chicken leg and drank some Gatorade before she spilled it. When everyone was finished and Kari collected all of the trash in a bag, she and Stephen helped the older kids walk a bit into the woods to relieve themselves. The baby wipes in Ariel’s diaper bag were going fast, Kari knew. When the older children were all back in their seats, Kari changed Anthony and Ariel on the floorboard between the front and second seats. Ariel was much happier, and her eyes were closing almost as soon as Jenn wrapped her arms around her.

  Mike started the engine and ran the heater for a few minutes after Kari got back in and closed her door. It didn’t take long to warm the SUV up, and with all those little bodies keeping the heat in, it was actually comfortable. The sky darkened around them, and the talking gradually subsided as the children fell asleep. The temperature dropped, and Mike periodically turned the vehicle back on, warming them for five to ten minutes.

  “Why did you pull it out?” Kari asked finally. The deep breathing in the back seats told her the children were sleeping comfortably.

  Mike looked over at her, his face serious. “We have at least ten miles to hike tomorrow.” His voice was quiet in the darkness. “Ariel and Anthony won’t be able to walk any distance at all, and I’m not sure how long Brittany will last. I can’t have a shard of glass sticking out of my arm with a kid on my shoulders.”

  Kari absorbed that. It was annoyingly logical. “It could have been arterial,” she said finally. “You could have bled out.”

  “I didn’t,” Mike replied.

  “You could have,” Kari insisted stubbornly.

  Mike sighed, tugging the elastic band out of his hair and setting it on the console beside him. “I thought about that, Kari,” he told her. “I promise, I did. But think about this part of it. The odds of me hiking ten to fifteen miles without that thing moving around inside me and doing even more damage are nil. If it was arterial and I was going to bleed out, I needed to do it and get it over with, so you could do whatever you needed to get the kids – and my sister – to safety.”

  “That’s –“ Kari sputtered.

  “Brave,” Stephen said softly from the seat behind them. Kari started – she didn't realize the boy was awake and listening to them.

  “And stupid,” she snapped back.

  “No,” Stephen replied, his tone more thoughtful than argumentative. “It was actually pretty logical, Miss Kari. Iron Mike is right – he would have ended up slowing us all down and still died before we ever got there.”

  “Smart kid,” Mike approved, and then, for the last nail in the coffin, he quoted Spock. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few – or the one.”

  Kari shifted in her seat, turning her back to them and looking at the moon outside her window. “You can both shut up anytime,” she huffed grumpily. Mike grinned, meeting Stephen’s eyes in the rear view mirror. After a while, they all slept.

  Norfolk, Virginia

  Sandra

  Sandra Anderson cried, off and on, for two days. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, and they burned when she blinked as though the insides of her eyelids were coated with sandpaper. She buried her little mutt, Tricksy, in the small back yard of her condo, Homeowners’ Association be damned. There was probably no one left to complain, anyway.

  She tried calling into work after Tricksy collapsed, but both her cell phone and the landline were down. That’s when she turned on the television and saw the coverage of the strange black airplanes flying in a tornado-like formation and wreaking hell on downtown Norfolk. The coverage then shifted to NAS Oceana, Amphibious Base Little Creek, and the Norfolk Naval Shipyard. The destruction was catastrophic; sailors died by the thousands in mere seconds. She watched for hours and then the coverage cut off abruptly, replaced with static on all the channels. Not even the Home Shopping Network tried to sell anything.

  That’s when Sandra realized it was the Apocalypse.

  The thing was … she didn’t much care, one way or another. She didn’t have her best friend and companion to face the end of the world with her. As far as she was concerned, it already ended when Tricksy died – the rest was only detail. Sandra curled up on her couch, staring at nothing.

  January 4.

  Kasoniak

  SFC Frazier, formerly of the Military Police, stood at ease in front of Col. Kasoniak, who had finally taken over his predecessor’s desk.

  “We’re too spread out here and vulnerable,” Kasoniak stated, turning the diagram his staff sergeant sketched the night before so Frazier could see it. “We need guard towers built here –” he stabbed a finger at the diagram, “here, and here, before anything else. Then we need shelters built according to these plans and the portable generators moved into position for the MASH and mess halls.”

  “That’s … the depository, Colonel?”

  “Yes, Sergeant. I already have a crew trying to access the building, but it’s locked up tighter …” He shook his head, not finishing his sentence. “Not a single Mint Police officer has reported in, so I’m working on the assumption they’re dead or AWOL. In either case, that land is the most defensible with an army of our size. It’s completely flat terrain for two square miles and there is the double fences and the razor wire. Until someone in higher authority contradicts me, I am re-negotiating the deed to the U.S. Mint.”

  Frazier nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, Sir. It’s a good plan. It’s got the no-approach zone and the tightest perimeter we can patrol. I’ll get my men on it right away, Sir.”

  Kasoniak nodded. “Thank you, Sergeant. Dismissed,” he said, and turned to the next report awaiting his review. Dear God, he was tired. And this was only the beginning.

  Hershey

  Hershey and his human played all morning long, getting into and out of the truck dozens of times. Clare carried tools with her and several containers that stunk and burned his eyes with the acrid smell of gasoline. She went to all of the cars in their neighborhood, breaking off a small square piece of metal from the back panel of each vehicle and sticking the clear hose she brought with her down into the smelly hole. Then she sucked on it! Several times she spit, and Hershey knew that gasoline must taste as bad as it smelled.

  Still, he was happy to be outside with her, and walking in the brisk air. The day was cold, but Hershey had a thick winter coat so he didn’t mind. When it started to drizzle, his human turned back for home, putting the stinky containers in the back of her truck. She and Hershey had unloaded most of the bags of dog food the night before, and today she was able to keep the smelly containers of gas far enough away from the food so it wouldn’t get ruined. Finally, when the sun was high in the sky again, they went to work!

  Kari

  Kari woke as the sky lightened and watched Mike flexing his arm experimentally. “It’s better,” he told her, but he accepted the ibuprofen she handed him without complaint, so she suspected he was lying.

  “I should check the bandage,” she offered, but Mike shook his head firmly.

  “Nope. We’re going on a hike, remember? We’re getting an early start so I figure we’ll be at Fort Knox by sunset. Let their docs check it.”

  Mike opened his door and stepped out. He was pleased it hadn’t snowed any more during the night. He walked off a bit into the woods to relieve himself. By the time he returned, Jenn and Kari were passing out chicken and country fried steak. He was pleasantly surprised at what
a little mother hen Jenn was turning into. As he passed her, he nudged her deliberately with his hip, almost knocking her off balance.

  “Watch it, Iron Mike!” she grumbled.

  Mike turned to her, a surprised scowl on his face. Jenn smiled innocently. For a moment, she had her stupid big brother back, not the strange grown-up that had taken over his body since they left Gran’s. She made a mental note to call him “Iron Mike” as often as possible – at least until the barb wore off.

  “Dork,” he replied, popping the cargo hatch and reaching in for his quiver.

  “Dork? Is that all you got? You buy that comeback on eBay?” Jenn teased, and turned away before he could retort, handing a chicken leg to Ariel and grinning at Kari, who winked back.

  Mike worked on consolidating the backpacks, pulling out nonessential items and re-packing everything, even the small backpacks the children would carry. He considered the tent but left it and most of the camping gear in the SUV – they wouldn’t need it today, and he could always come back for it later, if no one stole it in the meantime. He threaded the sheath of his hunting knife through his belt and hooked his quiver to a loop on his jeans.

  The stock of one of Poppa’s rifles poked out from the backpack. He double checked to be sure his takedown kit was at the top of the pack, glancing around to ensure everyone was occupied. Everyone was busy going to the bathroom or finishing breakfast. Mike unlocked the console and stuffed the Ruger into the small of his back. He was as prepared as he would ever be to get the kids to safety.

  “Iron Mike, Iron Mike! Miss Kari!” It was Nathan’s voice, shrill with excitement. Mike looked over at the boy who was standing at the edge of the woods.

  “What is it, Nathan?” he called.

  “You gotta see this!” the boy shouted back. “It’s the biggest worm ever! It’s ginormous!”

  Mike frowned, looking at the other children still getting ready to leave. “I’ll go,” Kari smiled at him. He nodded gratefully. She was a lot better at the parenting thing than he was. Hell, Jenn was a lot better at it.