Static Omnibus

by Hunt, James

  “Hang on!” Steve swerved the ambulance hard right, swinging everyone inside. Wren lifted from her seat as they mounted the curb. Smacks and pops echoed through the ambulance wall at her back, and Wren squinted her eyes shut, hoping that whatever they hit wasn’t living.

  By the time they arrived at the fire station, Wren had to peel her fingers off the railing of Zack’s stretcher one by one. She was the first out of the back doors, rushing to the station’s entrance. “Addison! Chloe!” Nathan stepped out of the door in the garage, and two small faces poked out behind him.

  Tears burst from Wren’s eyes as she stumbled the rest of the way and squeezed them so tight she thought they might burst. She kissed their cheeks, running her hands through her hair. “Thank god you two are all right.”

  Doug came running up behind her, and the moment the girls saw him, they rushed to their father. “Daddy!” they screamed collectively, and he engulfed them in his arms, showering them with kisses. “We missed you!”

  “I missed you too.” Doug carried them back over to the door and set them down inside.

  “How’s your arm, Chloe?”

  Chloe lifted her cast, examining the hard plaster around her arm, and shrugged. “I can’t really feel anything anymore.”

  Nathan stepped forward, between Doug and Wren. “The equipment went out about an hour ago.” His face was covered in sweat, and dark blotches spotted his chest and underarms. “I haven’t been able to hear from anyone. I wasn’t sure what to do, I trie—”

  Wren touched his arm, and his rambling stopped. “Thank you for watching our girls.” The words relaxed him, his shoulders sagging. She stepped out of the garage, the bustle of the city roaring in defiance of the abuse it was enduring.

  The thin veil of protection and civility had been ripped to shreds. A hot wind brushed Wren’s face and brought with it the din of car alarms, the crash of windows, the echoed terror of gunshots and screams. She turned back to Doug, Nathan, and the girls. “We have to get out of here.”

  Doug looked to the girls. “You two go inside while Mommy and I talk, okay?”

  Addison quickly wrapped herself around her father’s leg, clinging on for dear life. “You’re not going to leave again, are you?” Chloe immediately mimicked her sister, compelled by the same anxiety, clutching Doug’s other leg.

  Doug knelt, gently peeling both the girls off him. “You two listen to me. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed both of their foreheads. “Now, go inside so the adults can talk.” He gave them a push through the door, and Nathan, Wren, and Doug circled together. “So, what do you have in mind, Wren?”

  “We fuel up and head west,” Wren answered. “Aurora, Rockford, as far as we can get without stopping.” She looked back over to the ambulance. “Or the first working hospital we see to get Zack’s leg looked at.”

  “What about Steve’s wife and son?” Doug asked. “They’re not west.”

  “We split up, then. He goes and gets his kids with one of the trucks, and we take the ambulance.”

  “Wren, we can’t just leave him,” Doug said.

  “He’ll have a vehicle, and it’ll be fueled; what more do you want us to give him, Doug? I understand him needing to go and get his family, but I’m not taking ours deeper into that madness than we already have.” Wren paced back and forth, convincing herself that this was what needed to be done, regardless of how anyone perceived it. “He’ll understand that.”

  “Doug!” Steve stepped out of the back of the ambulance and jogged over. “Zack’s awake. He’s asking for you guys.”

  Doug eyed Wren, and she saw his hesitation. He didn’t want to leave the man behind and let him risk going it alone, but he promised his girls. He promised.

  “Thanks.” Doug placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Hey, let me talk to you for a second.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Steve said. “I heard what Wren said. She’s right. I won’t make you guys follow me back into the city. It’s too dangerous.” He nodded to the trucks in the back. “I’ll take one of the truck’s. I’ll be all right. You take care of your family, Doug.”

  “Thank you,” Wren said. “For everything.” She kissed his cheek then made her way to the ambulance, where Zack had propped himself up on the pillows. “Hey, how are you feeling?” She moved to his side, wiping the sweaty bangs from his forehead. His skin felt clammy to the touch, and his face was pale.

  “My leg,” Zack said, his face wincing in pain. “It’s really sore.” His words left his mouth in a hoarse whisper, his mind groggy and his body fatigued. He swayed his head back and forth lazily, unable to hold it up on his own.

  “I know, sweetheart,” Wren said, answering assuredly. “We’re going to get you some help. Just hang in there.”

  Doug and Nathan immediately started loading whatever supplies they could: medicine, blankets, medical gear, clothes, food, anything that would fit in the ambulance. The station had a fuel depot on sight, and once everything and everyone was loaded up, the goodbyes were said.

  “Take care of yourself, Steve,” Doug said, wrapping his friend in a hug. “If the radios come back on, you call me and let me know the moment you and your family are in the clear. You hear me?”

  “You’ll be the first to know.” Steve smiled then hugged Wren. “You take care of yourself, Wren. And your family.” Steve left first, the sun sinking lower into the horizon, Wren watching the truck disappear into the city. What kind of fate have I damned him to?

  “Wren!” Doug said, shouting from the ambulance already on the edge of the street. “Let’s go!”

  Wren climbed in the back, slamming the rear doors shut behind her. She found a seat next to Chloe on the right, while Addison sat with her father on the left, with Zack still on the stretcher between them.

  The second paramedic that Doug had brought with him, Ken, drove, while Nathan rode shotgun. “I’ll take as many back roads as I can until we can get onto Interstate 86. The traffic was backed up on the way out, but it looked clear past Oak Brook.” They kept the sirens off, not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves than necessary.

  Everyone’s heads bounced like bobblehead dolls, the ambulance speeding down streets, weaving in and out of the obstacles that dotted the roads: abandoned cars, downed power lines, fallen signs. Looted trash flowed from broken shop windows and into the street. The city was being torn apart at the seams.

  “Oh, shit!” Ken screamed.

  The ambulance skidded to a halt, slamming everyone forward along with any loose gear they couldn’t tie down. Wren’s shoulder collided with the wall, and the pain that followed faded her vision to black for a few seconds. When she regained control, she checked Chloe and clawed her way to the gap between the passenger and driver seat. When she saw what had stopped them, her jaw dropped. “Oh my god.”

  A blockade of burning cars cast flickering flames on at least a dozen masked men, all armed with rifles, marching slowly down the street. “Hang on!” Ken shifted into reverse, the tires screeching from the sudden force.

  Wren ducked back into the rear of the ambulance, using her body to cover Chloe as gunshots filled the air. She felt the percussion of each bullet connecting with the ambulance reverberate through the seat, and she placed her hands over Chloe’s ears to shield her from the gunfire and Addison’s screams.

  Time stood still as the engine revved, and Wren felt her center of gravity shift, slowly rotating along with her sense of reference. Gear tumbled back and forth, and a violent force slammed her against her seat belt. Her grip around Chloe loosened from the violent motion and the inside of the ambulance whirled in a blur. Cracks, pops, and the deafening twist of metal suddenly thundered all around her.

  One of the medical kits flew into the twirling vortex and smacked the bandage on Wren’s head, the sharp sting ringing through her skull and a dull sensation overtaking her limbs. When the motion finally ended, Wren’s head still spun in place, her body struggling to find the coordination to move. When she opened
her eyes she shook her head, confused. Doug and Addison were below her, and it took her a moment to realize that she was dangling from the seat belt around her waist. The ambulance had flipped to its side, leaving her on top.

  Chloe dangled next to her, crying, her face red and her arms and legs swinging from the seat belt clung tight around her waist. Wren reached for the buckle, trying to free her. “Hang on, sweetie.” She could only graze it with her fingertips. “Doug.” He stirred below, his head lolling back and forth as Addison lay unconscious. “Doug!” The scream worked, and he pushed a pile of boxes off himself, first checking on Addison, who groaned, then reaching for Chloe.

  Wren rotated her jaw, trying to wedge free the high-pitched din stuck in her eardrums. She shook her head, thinking it was only in her mind, but as the whine faded from her ears, she heard it again. It was quiet but growing steadily. “What is that?”

  Doug stopped and turned to look out the window, his jaw dropping. “Jesus Christ.” He turned back, his hands and fingers fumbling quickly to free their daughter. “We need to move. Now.”

  The buckle clicked open, and Doug caught Chloe before she hit the ground. Wren rushed over to Zack, who was awake, and clutched at his leg. The brace had broken, and whatever stabilization it offered the leg had busted with it. “Zack, we have to go.” She kept one eye on her son and the other on the growing size of the marching army heading straight for them.

  “Uuugghhh.” The moan came from the front seat, and Doug stumbled past Wren, pulling Nathan from the passenger seat, scrapes covering his forehead and cheeks. Doug carefully laid him on the floor, checking his pulse and his breathing and opening his eyes. “Nathan, can you hear me?” Nathan stirred but offered no coherent speech.

  Wren gathered the girls and sat them at the rear doors. Both were now awake but barely conscious, Addison unable to stand. “You girls stay right here. I need to get your brother.”

  Doug and Wren worked together on Zack’s straps, their son moaning, reaching for his leg, which looked in worse shape than before. But the growing chants outside of the ambulance erased any alternative course of action. They propped him up between their shoulders and made for the rear doors.

  “Look for any cover we can run to.” Doug panted between breaths, looking up over the black tuft of curls of their son’s head. “The closer, the better.” He looked down to Addison. “Sweetie, can you stand up?”

  Addison frowned, anguish etched upon her tiny face as she cradled her head in her hands. “I don’t feel good.”

  Wren stumbled to the front of the ambulance, trying to get a better look at their surroundings. The driver, Ken, was unconscious in the driver’s seat, his head cocked at a ninety-degree angle. But an even more disturbing sight grew in the distance. The mob of terrorists chanted and fired their rifles into the air as they passed buildings and broken down cars, setting to blaze anything in their path.

  Quickly, Wren hustled back to the rear of the ambulance, reached for Addison’s hand, and pulled her daughter up forcefully. “Chloe,” she ordered, “take your father’s hand.”

  Chloe marched obediently to her father’s side. The two of them both glanced at Nathan, who lay unconscious, but she knew what Doug was already thinking. “We can come back for him once we get the girls to safety.” She spit the lie, her gut wrenching the moment it left her lips.

  Doug and Wren each threw one of Zack’s arms over their shoulders, wedging him in between. Glass shook from the rear doors as Wren and Doug pulled their family onto the pavement. Wren frantically tried to keep up with Doug’s pace, the two seeing the same open shop door, shifting Zack and the girls in the same direction.

  Wren turned to look behind them and caught the edge of the mob out of the corner of her eye, the masked men aiming their rifles toward them. Her heart leapt from her chest, a feeling of weightlessness overtaking her as she dug her heels into the pavement, pushing harder, faster, beyond her body’s capacity.

  Bullets peppered the side of the building, drowning out the girls’ screaming. The world passed in slow motion. Bullets impacted the doorway to her right just inches from her head. With one foot inside the building a sudden jerk on her right shoulder pulled her down.

  Zack slipped from Wren’s hold, and Addison tripped, the entire family smacking against the tiled floor. A sharp crack sounded as Wren managed to get one palm under her, and the pain shot like lightning from her wrist all the way to her shoulder.

  More bullets shattered what was left of the store window as Wren became deaf to the world, all of her energy focused on dragging Zack and Addison deeper into the store, crawling forward on the tile, shards of glass and broken electronics digging into her fleshy palms.

  Wren looked to her right and saw that Doug was in the same position, dragging Chloe along the floor with him. The shadows of the mob in the street flickered from the surrounding fires as she pulled Zack to his feet. They all chanted, repeating the same words over and over again on their march.

  Wren pushed her way through a cracked door, spilling inside, all of them losing their footing in the hurried panic, and crashed to the floor. Wren heeled the door shut, and the room went pitch black. She fumbled for her cell phone in her pocket, using the light to check on Addison, Chloe, and Zack.

  Chloe squinted from the brightness, holding her hands up to block the light, her palms red and cut from the fall, but she was otherwise unharmed. Addison threw up spontaneously in the corner, and Wren held her daughter’s hair as she lay on the ground, moaning.

  “I think she has a concussion,” Doug said, short of breath and keeping his voice low.

  Wren stroked Addison’s hair then crawled to Zack, whose face was scrunched up in pain. She quickly locked the door and pushed as much junk in front of it as she could muster, piling boxes, shelves, and chairs in hopes of keeping the masked men in the streets away from her family. She looked around for a weapon, anything she could use to try and protect them.

  “Wren,” Doug said, his voice soft.

  Wren shuffled around the small storage room, the light from her phone illuminating a bottle of bleach, some mop heads, scrubs, and brushes, but nothing sharp, nothing that they could use.

  “Wren,” Doug repeated.

  “Doug, we need to get—” She turned around and the phone’s light shone on Doug’s face. He was propped up against a mop bucket, his complexion white as a ghost. He was panting heavily and clutching his stomach, where black blotches stained his clothes, and patches of red shimmered on his fingers as he peeled them off the wound.

  Wren dropped to her knees, crawling over to him and cradling his head. His body was slick with sweat, and he leaned his face into her shoulder, his eyes wandering deliriously. “I don’t… You need to get the kids out of the city.”

  “Doug, tell me what to do.” Wren lifted his chin, giving his head a stern shake, trying to bring his concentration back. “How do I help you?”

  Doug lifted his hands, revealing a sticky crimson stain that covered most of his paramedic’s uniform. He took a hard, dry swallow then gently placed his hands back down, the gold band of his wedding ring covered in blood. “The bullet went all the way through. I think it may have hit my liver, maybe my kidneys. I’m losing too much blood.” He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

  “The ambulance—there must be something still there?” Wren couldn’t let him die, not now, not here. She held his face firmly between her hands. “Tell me, Doug.”

  He took a few panting breaths, and Wren saw him trying to stand on what resolve remained to him. “The trauma bag. We need to”—he took another dry swallow—“stop the bleeding. Clotting powder and an IV. A blue bag, a red cross on each side.”

  “Got it.” Wren laid him down, and when she turned, Chloe was right behind her, her eyes big, staring at the wound in her father’s stomach.

  Doug saw her and tried to flash a smile. “Hey, kiddo.”

  “Daddy?” Chloe’s lips collapsed in grief, her lower lip protruded, and her eyes wat
ered.

  “I’m fine, Chloe.” Doug gestured back to Addison, who still lay on the floor, curled up in a ball.

  “I think your sister needs your help. Why don’t you go and make sure she’s okay? Could you do that for me?”

  Chloe nodded and then leaned in to give her dad a kiss on the cheek. Wren kissed the top of her head and then took one of the broomsticks, shoved the handle end in the bottom corner of the room, and then slammed her foot down over the middle, snapping it in half. She knelt and put one of the jagged, splintered ends into Zack’s palm. It was the best she could do. “Zack.” Her son opened his eyes, his fingers gripped lightly around the wood. “Anyone comes through that door, you stick this inside of him, you got it?”

  Zack’s fingers tightened around the wood, and he gave a stiff nod. Wren kissed his forehead and took the other end of the broken broomstick. She shoved the junk she stacked in front of the door, and stepped out into the store. The chants of the masked men was now nothing but a faint echo in the distance.

  Aside from the massive clouds of smoke that filtered through the air and debris in the streets, it looked clear. Wren held the makeshift spear tightly, keeping her eyes about her on the way to the ambulance, which was still mangled and flipped to its side, some of the gear spilling from the back like guts from a wound.

  Wren sifted through the wreckage, looking for the pack Doug had described, when a faint moan came from inside the ambulance. Nathan. He can help. She jumped inside, the vehicle creaking in the same distressed manner as the volunteer firefighter, his head lolling back and forth, the blood on his face shimmering with ever shake. “Nathan,” she said, shaking him. She looked behind her at the open doors, then through the broken windshield, making sure no one was close. “Nathan, wake up!”

  Nathan blinked, shifting his arms and legs around on the floor. “What happened?”

  “Nathan, I need to find the trauma bag. Where is it?” Wren grabbed his collar. “Doug’s been shot. I need to find the bag!” She screamed the words louder than she intended, but the intensity reignited Nathan’s coherence as he shifted his large body to the side, planting four wobbling limbs underneath his body as he pushed himself up.