Endure (End Times Alaska Book 1)
Page 15
Colleen held his head firmly and looked him in the eye. “I need to sew this up and it’s going to hurt, but I can’t have you thrashing around.” She looked at Amber. “Sewing kit?”
“We have a big first aid kit for the dogs and I know it includes sutures.”
“Perfect. Take my sled and hurry.” Amber bolted from the kitchen. Colleen took a closer look at the wound. If she could sew up the artery and maybe the tendon, she’d be able to save Lucas’s arm. She wasn’t sure how much use he would have of it, though. “Go get plenty of towels,” she ordered Jo. Then added, “And soap and hot water. We need to clean this out.”
The Twins Understood
Madison and the twins were in the dining room. She listened as Colleen gave orders. In the months that they had known her, she had never mentioned that she was a nurse. They usually got her talking about her husband and son. Even though they were gone, talking about them kept them real for her and seemed to give her a reason to move on. She was keeping them alive in the good memories she shared. She also spent time teaching the twins (and us) about horses. Horses weren’t simple creatures. They required a great deal of attention.
The twins were concerned. They talked about Lucas’s “ouchie” between themselves. Madison explained that it wasn’t something you could kiss and make better. It needed real medical treatment, and Colleen was providing it. At this point, the best thing for them was to stay out of the way, although they wanted to provide moral support.
We could not have asked for better children. The fewer things we had, the less needy they became. Routine helped, especially a routine that involved all of us as a family. They were included in what we did, and the limits of what they could do were clear to them. They were open to doing more, of course, as they wanted to test their maturity. They had just turned three and it seemed to us that they were ready for kindergarten. We were blessed.
And there was work that needed done, so swimming was out for now.
Madison took the twins to the dog kennel and they all immediately dug in to the feeding and clean up. The twins weren’t strong enough to pry the dog piles from the snow, so they kept the dogs occupied while an adult took care of the messes.
The twins were knocked down. A lot. Sled dogs like to run. They are active. The twins enjoyed it. They ran and giggled as the dogs easily ran faster.
They spent a good two hours helping Abigail, the apprentice dog musher. She was the most knowledgeable in the Community about the dogs and dog mushing, but this was her first year. She had a couple months’ experience when Fairbanks was lost. She buried herself in her work with the kennel. She and Jo were the only two who did not serve on the roving work details, as their jobs were critical. Life was special, even that of the dogs. They required daily nurturing. Abigail gave them that in addition to what seemed like an endless amount of love.
As they finished the morning feeding, it was already lunchtime, but Madison was not in a hurry to head back to the lodge. She was afraid of what she would find out about Lucas. Delay wouldn’t make anything better, though. If they needed any help, Madison couldn’t provide it by hiding. So off they went, back to the lodge.
Tragedy Averted
Colleen looked exhausted, but exhilarated at the same time. It was hard to describe, maybe she looked like somebody who just won a marathon. Madison took this as a good sign.
“He’s sleeping, surprisingly. He passed out as I was sewing things up, but he still had a strong pulse,” Colleen offered before Madison asked. A half empty bottle of Scotch sat between Colleen and Amber. Madison’s eyes narrowed at that.
Amber gave a tired smile. “That was for Lucas. It’s all we have. And we used vodka as an antiseptic.” The Community had been going through the spirits at a high rate, but the resort was well-stocked. Maybe some needed to be set aside in case of emergencies like this. They would have to think about that. Plus, there was the stock at the gas station. That had remained mostly untouched.
Having a nurse available was an amazing bit of luck. Lucas probably would have lost his arm otherwise, maybe even his life.
Having no medical care would make the new world a dangerous place. How long could we stay apart? How long would we have to?
Lucas’s accident created a different sense of urgency. Madison knew that someone would have to head outside. Someone would have to find out if help was out there. And then do everything possible to get them to come.
Madison would not let it be me.
Jo and Emma were still cleaning up the kitchen. Emma had gotten hysterical since she thought it was her fault Lucas got hurt. She’d opened the wrong valve when Lucas had pointed at something by her. The pump he was working on exploded almost immediately since he had it half-taken apart.
She calmed finally as everyone told her it was just an accident. No one was an expert in what they were doing. They had to learn as they went. Emma returned to the world of reality. She rubbed her leg absentmindedly where Madison had kicked her. Madison left the kitchen for the dining room.
Lucas had lost a lot of blood. Without the ability to give him blood, he would need a great deal of rest and a lot of fluids. Someone would have to take care of him. Colleen said that she’d stay as long as necessary, but only if the twins promised to take care of her horses. This was their chance to contribute so they were all in. Both of them tried to squeeze onto Colleen’s lap to give her a hug.
Madison went to each person, touching their shoulders and thanking them for their help. Lucas’s accident could be a tragedy that tore the Community apart, or it could be a thing to unite them further.
Madison returned to the kitchen. It had been cleaned and some things were set out for lunch, but the only thing happening was Emma sobbing as Jo held her tightly, stroking her hair and cooing in a soft voice.
Madison began singing a chant that she’d learned as part of her yoga training. She closed her eyes and sang, her voice gaining strength. Peace. Love. Those things that ground a person. Emma needed the strength to get through today.
Emma stopped crying and listened. Madison’s eyes were closed, and she was fully immersed in her chant. She repeated it a few times, then collected herself and opened her eyes.
“Thank you,” Emma and Jo said together.
Healing.
The first thing Lucas did after he awoke was to tell Emma it wasn’t her fault. He held her hand as she cried. But then that was it. Lucas told her that there would be no more crying. There was too much work in front of them to waste time looking back. Amber looked on as the two friends set things straight between them.
Lucas and Amber were starting to be more of a couple, but it was early in their relationship. They were still trying to figure things out.
Weeks passed before Lucas could get up and move about on his own. He was in a great deal of pain; the only drugs available were what they had on hand in the gift shop – aspirin, ibuprofen, over-the-counter stuff.
Lucas had matured since he first started working at Chena Hot Springs. He was there like everyone else to earn money, ostensibly for college, but that wasn’t where his heart was. He wanted to be more hands on. He had expected to swap college for a good trade school. None of that mattered now, it seemed.
One of the books in the lodge’s consolidated library was on the fundamentals of flight. Since Amber had prohibited him from working, he immersed himself in the book while also taking trips out to the airplane to get more comfortable with the physical side of it.
With each day he grew more confident that he could fly the plane. He studied the mechanical systems of the plane so he learned what each system was supposed to do and how it worked. He practiced with the controls. He had yet to power up the engine as his arm wasn’t very functional. He was learning to do things left-handed. If he couldn’t get his right hand up to speed, then maybe he couldn’t fly the plane, but he could guide another person through the piloting process. Lucas could control the flaps, propeller pitch, and throttles left-handed.
He got to work and she left him to it, making sure that Amber didn’t let him overdo it.
Long Days
As March gave way to April, my work extended to almost sixteen hours a day, every day of the week. The seeds, the garden prep, the “shopping.”
My scavenging had resulted in rolls of barbed wire, fence posts, clips, and all manner of hand tools. I couldn’t sink the poles until the ground thawed, although I could bring in horse manure and good dirt that people had stored in their sheds, seeds and anything else I could find, especially commercial fertilizers.
I had to be careful with these as some weren’t meant for gardens. Something like Sevin was a product to be used specifically to combat various bugs. I found both powder and liquid versions.
Since our garden was going to be a ways away from the house, I dragged someone’s portable shed down there. That was a painful and time-consuming affair, but it gave me a way to store all the little things. Once breakup was under way, mud and standing water could wreak havoc on any kind of order. Since I was close to the stream, anything I had could wash away if I wasn’t careful.
I looked at everything as irreplaceable. I was a slave to modern technology and needed all of it if there was any chance for us to have a successful garden. I didn’t want to risk failure. We had to assume that we would need everything we grew to survive the next winter. Every day would be a battle to prepare. Sure, we had the crutch of the Community at Chena Hot Springs, but for ourselves, we needed to prove that we could survive on our own. Maybe that was my own ego, too.
My breaks consisted of reading to the twins, or helping them understand everything I was doing with the garden. Why was the fence important? What did I mean by prepare the soil? How could you tell the different seeds apart?
The only answer I had for the last question was because of the seed packets. They told me what the seeds were. Otherwise, I couldn’t tell one seed from another. I was the world’s worst prepper.
But we would learn together so we knew exactly what each seed needed in order to grow. Eating was not something to be taken lightly.
If it hadn’t been for the greenhouse at Chena Hot Springs, the twins would have thought all vegetables came out of cans.
Breakup
Breakup in Alaska has been celebrated for generations, if not millennia. It is the way that the Arctic and sub-Arctic welcome springtime. It means standing water, running water, and mud. It is the transition from using a snow machine to using a quad. For us personally, it meant our travel ground to a halt until the roads cleared and the ground dried out.
This was the final bit of preparation time before the race to plant. The excitement was killing me. No it wasn’t. More mucking about in the dirt. I was never born to be a farmer, but once again, I was doing what I had to for my family. Maybe I could convince Madison that there is nothing cooler than planting a garden. Then I could take over the twins’ classes.
Actually, their classes needed to be about the garden and the outdoors, so we would all be at the garden regardless. Some would watch and learn and others would be mucking about in the mud.
As we waited for breakup to wring itself out, we made sure the battery on Colleen’s truck was charged. I took the opportunity to charge the battery on my Jeep, too. It hadn’t run all winter. I was happy when it started right up. I also fired up the quad, although I had driven that around a little bit at times. It would be a good ride. Although for trips back to the resort, we’d probably just take the Jeep.
I wish we would have found a Geiger counter so we could see if Madison’s Jeep was contaminated. It would be the better ride. We hadn’t looked for a Geiger counter. I wondered if there was one at the University.
After any spring rains and the final run off had gone down river, maybe we’d take a trip back. The route on Goldstream to Ballaine would still be clear. The original fire had not burned far, not even past the first hill. Everything was probably as we had last seen it.
With breakup comes warmer weather. There would be bodies; that could be a problem. I wasn’t exactly queasy, but then again, I’d never seen anything like what we could encounter.
I wanted to know that Madison’s Jeep was okay. I wanted to know if there was anyone on the other side of town. Once we got the garden planted, we’d have time to make a run. I could leave at four a.m. and it would already be light out. Maybe that was a better plan.
I had a gas mask in the garage that I’d bought surplus a long time ago. The filters were still sealed. I could wear the gas mask and a full set of coveralls. No exposed skin and breathing filtered air. I could take Madison’s Jeep so if there was contamination still at the University, I wouldn’t ruin my Jeep, too.
That would work. I’d talk Madison into letting me take another trip into the city. The Intelligence Officer in me begged for new information. Why had no help come? Where were the airplanes?
End of Book 1
Acknowledgments
Many good friends supported me as I transitioned from a life traveling as a management consultant to the life of an author.
First and foremost, I’d like to thank my wife, Wendy, for continuing her work as a University Professor without pause, which allowed me to delve into writing. My mother-in-law, Mary Whitehead, has been very supportive. She’s always a good one to call and talk with.
My best friend, Bill Rough, and his better half, Linda, were stalwart through many phases of my life and were the first ones to read this book and provide feedback. I’m honored to call them friends.
Frank and Sheri Mellott have been great sounding boards as I worked through some plot lines. They always have time to listen.
My classmate from law school, Bob Ruhe, has been a great friend through the years and took the time to read a draft copy of the book for me. Thank you, Bob, for taking time out of running your business to give me a hand.
So many others stood by me as I moved from a normal, full-time job to what I get to do now – Larry Hintz, Rick Gainey, Risto St. Luise, Brian Walden, and so many more. I apologize for not mentioning you here for those I have surely missed. Once a book is finished, it’s a rush to finalize all the details and get it into print.
Website: http://www.craigmartelle.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCraigMartelle/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/rick_banik
About the Author
Craig Martelle is a successful author, on track to publish ten books in 2016. He’s taken his more than twenty years of experience in the Marine Corps, his legal education, and his business consulting career to write believable characters living in a real world.
Although Craig has written in multiple genres, what he believes most compelling are in-depth characters dealing with real-world issues. Life lessons of a great story can be applied now or fifty years in the future. Some things are universal.
Craig believes that evil exists. Some people are driven differently and cannot be allowed access to our world. Good people will rise to the occasion. Good will always challenge evil, sometimes before a crisis, many times after, but will good triumph?
Some writers who’ve influenced Craig? Robert E. Howard (the original Conan), JRR Tolkien, Andre Norton, Robert Heinlein, Lin Carter, Brian Aldiss, Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman, Anne McCaffrey, and of late, James Axler, Raymond Weil, Jonathan Brazee, Mark E. Cooper, and David Weber. Craig learned something from each of these authors: story line, compelling issue, characters that you can relate to, the beauty of the prose, unique tendrils weaving through the book’s theme. Cr
aig’s writing has been compared to that of Andre Norton, Craig’s Free Trader characters to those of McCaffrey’s Dragonriders, and the Rick Banik Thrillers to the works of Robert Ludlum.
It is humbling, but never the intent. Craig only wants to tell a good story about real people, keep readers engaged, and leave them with something to think about: “What would I do in that situation?”
Through a bizarre series of events, Craig ended up in Fairbanks, Alaska. But he loves it there. It is off the beaten path. He and his wife watch the northern lights from their driveway. Temps can reach forty below zero. From three and a half hours of daylight in the winter to twenty-four hours in the summer. It’s all part of the give and take of life. If they didn’t have those extremes, then everyone would live there.
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