Collapsing World_Stolen Treasure_Book 3
Page 23
From the very first trigger bing of the Bronco’s ignition alarm, Clark started experiencing the sensation of time slowing down and a hyper awareness in control of his actions. The memories he was laying down in his brain seemed richer; as if he was carving the first etches of sound into a vinyl record. He could hear his heart beating, and hear the breaths of Dukes, as he hoisted him onto his shoulder. The motion of the two Chinese soldiers leaping from the patrol car seemed to take forever, and so did the starting of the Bronco.
The first round that Shaw fired echoed for what seemed like seconds, and Clark watched the brass casing sail through the air, tumbling to the ground; followed by the clink of the hot metal striking the floor.
Shaw yelled. “GO!” He fired two more shots. “GO!”
Clink. Clink.
Jack put the Bronco in reverse and floored the engine, spinning the tires on the gravel. He nearly lost control and slammed on the brakes too late, the back of the truck hit the rear of the building.
Clark bounced on his feet, not even feeling the weight of the man on his shoulders. The rear door was inches from his grasp, when he felt the first round enter his left leg, and he fell face forward, slamming he and Dukes into the side of Bronco.
The sound of Jack’s rifle was like the sound of cannon fire. He was firing from the driver’s side window, twenty inches from Clark’s head.
“Get in!” Jack yelled, and fired more rounds at the soldiers that had surprise them from the left side of the building.
Clark felt the time start to catch back up, and his heart raced. He gritted his teeth and yelled a guttural yell as he fought the pain in his leg and tried to hoist Dukes at the same time. He flung open the door and heaved Dukes on the back seat before turning to fire his pistol at the soldiers that had shot him.
“Get in!” Jack yelled again, pulling the rifle in and putting the Bronco in drive.
Clark dove into the back, shutting his door, and reaching to open the other back door for Shaw.
Shaw ran the few steps it took to cover the ground between his position and the open door of the Bronco. He stretched out his body to dive into the back seat, just as a dozen bullets racked across his body, sending a spray of blood along the side of the truck. Shaw’s body hit the open door, and he crumpled to the ground, dead, with half of his head removed by one of the rounds.
It took Clark a second to process the loss, and then a new round of bullets punched at the side of the truck. Time had regained its constant course in Clark’s mind. “GO! GO! GO!” he yelled to Jack.
Jack punched his foot on the accelerator and the rear tires dug into the gravel, propelling the hefty American steel vehicle forward and almost out of control. Jack fought to steer, the back door, with Shaw’s blood dripping down the leather, slammed shut.
Two soldiers rounded the church’s corner and opened fire.
“Oh, shit!” Jack swerved, trying to avoid the bullets and still keep the truck under control. He over corrected, and pointed the truck at the soldiers and the side of the church. The tires yelped, and he swung the wheel again, clipped one of the soldiers, and smashing the other into a bloody mess on the side of the white building.
The front tires of the Bronco hit the asphalt and Jack spun the wheel almost too much to the right. The truck burped on the pavement a few times, threatening to flip, before he managed to correct, straighten and step on the gas.
“Holy, crap, Clark! What happened to Shaw?” Jack screamed from the front, his emotions on full tilt. Clark reached up and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder to reassure him. They were out of harm’s way for the time being.
“He didn’t make it,” Clark offered, squeezing the boy’s shoulder.
Jack didn't slow down for almost five minutes. He had no idea where he was going, and to be honest, he didn’t care; as long as they were safe.
Clark looked back out through the broken rear window, just to make sure they weren’t being followed. “Hey, you can slow down,” Clark finally offered from the back.
“Are you sure? I don’t know.”
“Yeah, go ahead and ease off, let’s figure out where we are. Pull in at that gas station,” Clark offered, looking down the country road what looked to be an intersection.
Jack eased the Bronco into the station and under the cover of the gas pump island.
“Keep the engine running,” Clark insisted, and opened his door. Dukes was starting to come around, and he wanted to give the man some room to gather his senses. Clark stepped out and felt the shock of pain shoot up his leg and across his lower back.
“You, okay?” Jack said, exiting the driver’s side and slinging his rifle around to his front.
Clark let the pain sharpen his mental focus. “Yeah, he said ripping a part of his lower tee shirt off and tying it around the wound on his leg. He then looked in to see Dukes sitting up. “Just sit there for a second,” he urged.
Dukes sat on the back seat of the Bronco, blinking his eyes and rubbing his head. “What happened?”
“You were in the bell tower. You took a pounding from the APC, and the entire thing collapsed.”
“Bell tower?” Dukes asked, rubbing the knot on his head. He squinted, as the light seemed to bother him.
“The best I can tell is that you actually rode the bell down, and it knocked you pretty good.”
“Penny? The last thing I remember is Penny was surrounded.”
“She’s fine,” Clark said, assuming that they made it down the road without any other trouble. “At least I think she is.”
“Where are they? Where is she?” He looked around at the gas station. “Where are we?”
“That’s the question of the moment,” Jack said, pulling a map out of the driver’s side visor.
“What about Shaw, and the ones inside the church?” Dukes asked, his concern drilling through his blurriness.
Clark exhaled deeply before answering. “The ones in the church made it out with Penny in the Humvee,” he paused. “Shaw made sure that the three of us got out alive.”
Dukes nodded, that kind of statement meant only one outcome. “Understood.”
“Clark, there’s someone in the gas station,” Jack said, slowly putting the map down on the front seat and moving his hand to his rifle.
Clark looked over the top of the vehicle to see the station. He didn’t see anyone, but that didn't mean they weren’t there. “Where, exactly?” His voice calm as he moved his hand to the pistol strapped to his right hip.
“Moving along the front, towards the door.”
Just then, the tinted front glass door opened and an elderly man in overalls stepped out of the door holding a shotgun. The angle on the barrel of the gun was somewhere between the ground and their heads.
“Don’t make any sudden movements,” Clark spoke softly and raised his hands. He then stepped around the back of the truck to show the old man that he meant no harm.
The old man swirled his lowered shotgun towards the man walking around the back. Instantly, he could see two things; this was a soldier, and he was wounded.
“You Army?” the man asked, his voice underpinned with a whistle as he spoke.
“Yes, Sir,” Clark answered and took a few steps towards the old man. “We don’t mean to cause any trouble, Sir.”
“Where’s the rest of ya’?”
That was a good question, Clark thought. “You mean the rest of the Army?”
The old man nodded.
“They’re fighting as best as they can, we got separated. Sir, I’m injured, and we’re just trying to rally with the rest of our troops.”
The old man lowered his shotgun and rested it in the crook of his elbow. “What can I do for y’all?” he asked, and slowly walked over to the Bronco. “Anything I can do to help with the fight, I’ll do it,” he said, extending his bony hand out for Clark.
Clark shook the man’s hand, a sense of relief taking over.
“You know, I’ve held those damn gangs off two times, and I
thought for sure you were more of them coming back to bust me up.”
“Gangs?” Jack asked, reaching for the map again.
“Kids really. Hell, I don't know what’s got into them. You know, I fought in Korea, and I saw what could happen to the mind of a man. They forget everything about being a human being except how to take things from others.” He stopped talking and looked at the three staring at him. “I’ve got some alcohol and a few bandages that can help that out,” he said, pointing to Clark’s leg.
“Thank you, Sir, that would be great.”
“And you, young man, your eyes are dilated, and judging by the size of the goose egg on your noggin, I’d say you have a pretty nasty concussion,” he said, looking at Dukes. “Army medic,” he said. “I’ve seen it all. Now come in and let me help.”
“Well, Sir, that would be great, but can you start by telling me where we are?”
Penny and Raven walked into the tent after assuring that the Humvee was secured. Within seconds Penny knew something was wrong.
Tasha was standing in the corner being held by Dan and his sister, and Lucy was crying.
“Again!” Dr. Tabby Cadet ordered.
Her husband moved a set of electrode paddles to David’s bare chest. “Clear!”
David’s chest bounced up in the air and flopped back down onto the stretcher. Tabby moved in with her stethoscope and listed to his chest.
“How long ago did you hit him with adrenalin?” she asked Emma.
“An hour ago, maybe.”
“Okay, give me 20cc,” she ordered, pointing to a medical chest.
Emma found the vial and the syringe, and drew the prescribed amount. “Adrenalin, 20cc,” she said, handing it out for Tabby to take.
Tabby injected her patient and listened one more time. “CPR, again.”
Emma began squeezing a bag that was over David’s mouth, pumping air into his lungs, while Dr. Seth Cadet pumped on David’s chest.
“He can’t go!” Tasha cried and moved over to put her arm around Lucy. “He can’t go, he just got you back. He’s your dad, he can’t go.”
“Pause!” Tabby ordered so she could listen again. “Nothing. Seth, hit him one more time.”
Again, Seth applied the paddles to David’s bare chest. “Clear!” David’s chest popped up in the air and slammed back down. David’s reaction was like throwing a light switch; he heaved in a giant breath and his eyes shot open. Both Emma and Seth moved to hold him down as he recovered.
“Breathe slowly,” Emma spoke softly, positioned just above his head. “That’s it, slow breaths. You’re okay, now.”
“His pulse is weak, breathing shallow,” Tabby summarized before leaning back and away from her patient. “Well, you gave us quite a scare,” she offered, with her fingers still holding his wrist. She computed the pulse in her head while speaking.
“What, what happened?” David’s voice was raspy and he almost coughed. “Can I have some water?”
Seth cracked open a new plastic water bottle and gently put it to his lips. “Drink slowly,” he ordered.
“Dad, are you going to be alright,” Lucy asked, approaching the cot. She put a shaking hand on his left leg.
David raised his hand away from the pulse counting grip of Tabby and reached out for his daughter. “Yeah, yeah, I think so.” He looked over at Tabby. “Right?”
“Well,” Tabby started. “You were pretty seriously injured by the gunshot wounds.”
“They were guns from helicopters,” Tasha said, almost robotically. She stood behind Lucy, with one hand on the girl’s upper arm.
“Right,” Tabby continued. “And, I think your heart, although not directly injured, has succumbed to the level of stress exerted upon it. Call it collateral damage,” she concluded.
“What does that mean?” he asked, giving a gently squeeze to his daughter’s hand.
“It means with your loss of blood, the injuries you’ve absorbed, the stress of everything you’ve been through has damaged your heart. In fact,” she paused to put her stethoscope upon his chest and looked up to her husband to do the same thing. “Do you hear that?”
“Yeah, maybe a millimeter in size,” he said, removing his stethoscope and waiting for his wife to finish.
“In fact, you have a hole in your heart,” she concluded, also leaning back.
“A hole? But, I.” David didn't know what to say.
“Can you fix it?” it was Lucy asking.
Seth looked over to his wife and shook his head. “If we were in our offices in Birmingham or a legitimate hospital, sure.”
“But,” Tasha said, “there is something, right?”
Both Seth and Tabby looked at each other without speaking.
“Yeah, there’s something.” Everyone looked at the large soldier standing in the doorway. Reed leaned against the tent pole that made the right side of the opening. He then pulled a small handheld radio out of his vest and held it out for the others to see.
“What do you know?” Seth asked, standing up.
“I guess I need to come clean, Sir,” he said, casting a sideways look at Raven. “When Raven came to me with this plan to get you guys out of the camp in Georgia so you could find your daughter, I told her she was out of her mind. But she convinced me that you two were going anyway.”
“Reed, what did you do?” This time it was Raven asking the question, and she didn’t look happy with what she thought he was about to say.
“I spoke to Colonel Horn, and he had guessed as much. He also knew that you would help them,” Reed confessed, he walked away from the door, and towards Raven. “So, he asked me to keep an eye on things; which I would have done for you, anyway,” he added.
Raven was about to say something, but Tabby cut her off. “So, what your saying is what, exactly?”
“That there’s a patrol coming within five miles of our position in an hour, and we can have him transported back to the base hospital for the surgery.” Reed shrugged after revealing his plan.
“Let’s do that,” Lucy said. “My dad needs that, and we can all go. Right?”
Reed looked at all of the faces. “Yeah, sure, I guess.”
“What about my dad, your brother and Clark?” Penny asked, looking at Lucy.
“What about us?” Clark said, standing at the entrance of the tent door with Jack and Dukes.
CHAPTER 44
THREE DAYS LATER
With Clark, Dukes and David under proper medical care, Emma embraced the opportunity to serve her country by doing what she felt she was called to do; nursing. As one of only a handful of trained ER nurses, she found herself deep into saving lives within minutes of signing up.
With a twelve-hour shift ending, she made her way to Clark’s room. “Hey,” she poked her head in his room after knocking. For some reason, Clark had been given a private room on the top floor of the hospital, and Emma took full advantage of it. Each of the three nights they had been there, she had slept on a cot near his bed. She had feelings for the man, and she now openly told him so.
“Hey, yourself. Are you the one that I need to complain to about the food? I mean, I’ve had Army food, but…” he stopped teasing and smiled as she leaned in to kiss him.
“I could order them to put you on a pureed diet, if that would help?” she tossed it right back.
“No, no, I’m good. So, what’s the latest on our gang?”
Emma sat down on her cot and pulled off her shoes to rub her feet while she talked. “Umm, Dukes was discharged last night. He and Penny were able to get with the shortwave radio guys and they spoke with his wife. He’s trying to find a way to get them back home. Colonel Horn said he might be able to help, seeing what they did for the cause, and all. So, I’m pretty sure that he and Penny will be here tomorrow when you get discharged.”
“Copy, that. What about David and the kids?”
“David is still in the ICU. Jack and Lucy have been helping out in their own special ways.”
“Really?
How so?”
“Airman Perez pulled some strings and got a terminal for Lucy in the Communications building. I think Perez is training her to do something with computers; you know how they are together!”
“Thank God for that relationship!”
“Right.”
“And Jack?”
“Jack’s been recruited.”
“What? Recruited? You mean by the Army? Isn’t he too young?”
“Clark, you had him in a sniper position, shooting at people three weeks ago. And, after all the crap we’ve been through, and the things that he’s had to do, it aged him quickly.”
“But.”
“His 16th birthday is in two days, and the President lowered the age threshold by Executive Order a week ago. Horn has about a hundred boys that are lined up to start basic. They start on Monday, here at camp.”
“I guess that’s survival and war?” Clark said, shaking his head. “Will he be here tomorrow when they let me out?”
“Yeah, I made sure that both he and Lucy would be here. They’re good kids.”
“Yeah, that just so happens to be growing up in a shitty time. Any other news?”
“Yes, Deb and Dan reunited with their parents at the camp in Talladega. Reed sent word back. He also said that Dan will be heading over here to start basic with the others on Monday.”
Clark shook his head again. “Wasn’t he a quarterback or something?”
“Yeah, for Alabama,” she affirmed. “But, I don’t think we’re going to be playing any bowl games soon.”
Clark let the new reality sink in a little before speaking. “What about Tasha?”
Emma breathed in deeply and exhaled before filling him in on Tasha. Clark noted that there was something obviously bothering her about Tasha’s status.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, really. I think Tasha is a lost soul. When you listen to her story, and what she and David went through to escape Birmingham, it’s so tragic.”