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Survive The Fall | Book 5 | Fight Back

Page 9

by Shupert, Derek


  “We’ll need to head to one of the larger hospitals in the city,” Russell said, looking at him. “They’ll have the best chance of still having power and being able to operate.”

  Clyde pointed at the large, green highway sign fixed to the gunmetal steel frame that straddled the highway. Boston gleamed in white letters off the surface of the sign. “Do you have any suggestions on where we should head to first?”

  Russell chewed his bottom lip, then tapped the ends of his dirty fingernails against his chin. “I’d say let’s try Massachusetts General Hospital first. It’s the closest and largest in the city.”

  The skyline of Boston came into view in the near distance. The tops of the buildings were cloaked by the dismal-gray sky that looked similar to that of Philadelphia. The hint of smoke, although subtle, tainted the air, and funneled through the vents, filling the cab.

  Clyde scanned the horizon with both hands resting on the steering wheel at ten and two while passing the few cars that traveled the empty road. “Hopefully, things aren’t as chaotic and unhinged here as other places.”

  “From the looks of it, I don’t think we’re going to have that sort of luck.” Russell gulped down the lump forming in his throat. “Regardless of whatever turmoil the city’s in, we’ll push through and do what is needed. There’s too much at stake, and too many lives hang in the balance. I don’t plan on losing anyone else that’s close to me. Not now. Not again.”

  “I’m with you on that,” Clyde replied with a tilt of his head. He eased off the gas some, taking the winding highway at a more modest speed.

  Russell checked the side-view mirror every couple of seconds, making sure Amber didn’t fall behind.

  “How far is Massachusetts General Hospital anyway?” Clyde asked, zipping past a white Volkswagen Beetle puttering along in the left lane. “This is my first time to Boston.”

  “Not too far, barring any trouble.” Russell peered out the passenger-side window at the vehicles parked on the shoulder of the highway. “You’ll want to take the exit coming up, then hook a right at the light.”

  Clyde offered a thumbs up, checked the right-hand lane, then flicked on his blinker. “After we get Cathy and Amber situated, then where to?”

  The Silverado drifted across the highway, heading toward to the exit ramp that sliced up and through the wall of trees and other vegetation that grew alongside the road.

  “We’ll check Sarah’s place first,” Russell replied, watching the road while his fingers continued to rap against the armrest. “Hopefully, she’ll be there and hasn’t gone out in this mess.”

  “I imagine she’s hunkered down at her place and is safe,” Clyde said, leaving the highway and cruising up the curved road toward the intersection that materialized through the trees’ leaf-covered branches.

  Russell tapped his foot against the rubber mat, then stopped. “She’s a pretty tenacious woman, and doesn’t like to stay put for too long. She always has been. I don’t think that’s changed since we’ve been separated, but maybe it has. If she isn’t at home, then we’ll go from there.”

  The intersection’s lights had no power. A Volkswagen Beetle sat at the white, thick-painted line under the powerless lights. There didn’t seem to be any people in the vehicle from what Russell could see through the back of the small, rounded window.

  Clyde pumped the brake, and pulled to the right of the ramp. The passenger side tires drove off the smoothness of the road, and rumbled through the deep trenches next to the pavement.

  Russell grabbed the bar mounted to the truck’s frame next to the door. His body swayed from side to side, moving with each rut the tires rolled over.

  Amber followed suit, maneuvering the Suburban into the green turf and trailing the truck past the abandoned car.

  Russell turned and craned his neck, staring at the inside of the Beetle as they rolled past it.

  Clyde did much the same while glancing to the empty intersection. He turned the steering wheel, driving out of the weeds and around the bug before stopping past the white line under the light. His fingers tugged on the blinker, signaling to Amber the direction they planned to head. He checked both roadways, then pressed the gas.

  The Silverado drove around the curb, and merged onto the street. Amber trailed the truck, keeping pace.

  The windows of the businesses lining the streets remained dark. Some had busted windows while others had been burned to the studs that peeked through the holes within the scorched brick walls.

  Russell assumed vandalism played a major hand in the devastation and the total collapse of civility had swept through his hometown like a vengeful hand. It wasn’t surprising, all things considered, and what else had transpired so far. The big cities had gotten it worse, and that seemed to be true across the board.

  “And the heavy hand of destruction continues it seems,” Clyde said, muttering under his breath. “I guess folks would rather destroy things than help maintain or even protect their livelihood and the city they live in. Doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”

  “Well, our moral compass is a bit more intact than the looters, rioters, and thugs that like to destroy things,” Russell replied, soaking in the sad sight of his hometown. He shook his head. “At the end of the day, some people just want to watch the world burn, regardless if it affects them or not. It’s a sad reality, but one that we are now being forced into. To be honest, after I find Sarah, I might leave all of this behind and head to the damn mountains. Seems like a much safer place to hold up in perilous times like these.”

  “I could go for some fresh mountain air, a nice lake to fish out of, and peace and quiet,” Clyde said, nodding in agreement. “I’ve never been a big fan of major cities. Give me a cabin and some scenery from the front porch, and I’m the happiest man alive.”

  Russell pointed at the intersection ahead of them. “Take Grand Avenue up here, then go down a few blocks, then turn onto Fruit St. It shouldn’t be much farther after that till we get to the hospital.”

  Clyde removed his hat, scratched at his wild, oily black hair, then secured the cap on top of his head. “Yeah. There’s the blue sign for the hospital next to the signal light pole.”

  A dull, subtle thumping loomed outside of the Silverado.

  Russell squinted and tilted his head to the side, listening to the rhythmic sound. He lifted his hand and pointed toward the roof of the truck. “You hear that thumping sound?”

  Clyde hit the blinker, looked to the street for any incoming cars, then turned onto Grand Avenue. “Yeah. What is that? I hope to God it isn’t trouble.”

  “I’m not sure,” Russell replied, flitting his gaze to the smooth texture lining the roof of the Silverado. “Sounds like an aircraft. A chopper, maybe? Don’t know.”

  The truck rolled past the curb and cars parked next to the sidewalks. Clyde leaned forward and looked upward as the thumping grew louder. He shook his head, then tilted it some. “Yeah. I think you’re right. Sounds like rotors from a helicopter. It doesn’t sound that–”

  The beating of the blades boomed over the buildings they drove next to. The loud, thunderous noise sent Russell forward in his seat. Both hands pressed to the dash, and his eyes watched the sky for the bird.

  “There,” Russell said, pointing at the belly of the dark-green Black Hawk helicopter that flew overhead.

  The chopper vanished beyond the buildings on the far side of the road.

  “Was that a military chopper?” Clyde asked, staring at Russell with a raised brow. “That looked like a Black Hawk. I wonder if the military has been sent in or something.”

  “Who knows.” Russell searched the sky for more aircraft. “They could be doing recon or something.”

  “Yeah. Guess we’ll find out at some point just how bad things are,” Clyde said, sitting back in his seat and watching the road. “Maybe they’ve gotten things under control now.”

  “Perhaps. That would be great if they have.” Russell turned in his seat, and peered through th
e back window of the truck.

  Amber leaned forward and searched the sky. She glanced to the back seat, then pointed upward.

  The beating of the Black Hawk’s rotors faded to a whisper, then went away all together. Russell pondered what sort of presence the military had and if any sort of curfew had been put into place. Other than the chopper, he hadn’t spotted any check points, or other military vehicles, or personnel along the roads.

  Clyde drove a bit farther down the road, and turned off onto Fruit St. He tapped the brake, and watched the roads while making a wide arch to the far-right lane. He pointed out another blue hospital sign and watched the sides of the road for the hospital.

  “It’ll be up here on your right,” Russell said. “Take the first entrance, just past the sign. That’ll lead to the main entrance of the hospital.”

  Clyde studied the west side of the street for the entrance.

  Russell spotted a Boston Police Cruiser heading toward them in the other lane. The lights on top of the white squad car flashed red and blue. The siren blared as it raced past them at full tilt. Russell twisted in his seat, watching the vehicle fly down the city street, then disappear down one of the adjoining roads.

  “He was in a hurry,” Clyde said, checking the rearview. “I imagine they’re all spread beyond thin right now.”

  “I bet they are for sure.”

  “There it is,” Clyde said.

  Russell faced forward and glanced out of the passenger-side window to the sprawling buildings that lined the side of the road.

  Cars were parked all over, lining the sidewalks and any places they could find. People trudged up and down the walkways, heading to and from the immense medical center. A handful of uniformed officers stood watch, directing any traffic and civilians nearby. Russell counted three from what he could see as they crept by the officers.

  “Well, it looks like they’re still operating,” Clyde said, searching for a place to park within the meld of congested vehicles. “From the looks of these people, I wonder if they’ll have any room inside for Cathy.”

  “They have to make room,” Russell replied, searching for a place to park the vehicles. “There. Next to that light-gray van.”

  Clyde cut the steering wheel and darted into one of the empty parking spaces next to the Ford Econoline Van. He hit the brake and shifted into park. Amber pulled into the space next to Russell and stopped.

  “I’d stow your piece under the seat or some other place where it’s out of sight.” Russell opened the glove box and placed the Ruger into the hold.

  “Are you sure you don’t want at least one of us to carry inside?” Clyde asked, killing the engine. “I’d feel a bit safer if one of us was carrying some heat. Just because we’re at a hospital doesn’t mean shit can’t go sideways.”

  Russell closed the door to the glove box. “Yeah, I’m sure. There could be more cops inside, and I don’t want to risk putting anyone on edge, or getting into a bad situation. That’s the last thing we need.”

  Clyde held his piece in his hand. He glanced to the weapon, then back to Russell, shrugging. “All right. If you say so. I just hope we don’t regret not bringing them with us. Worst case, I guess we can take one from someone else that might be carrying. I’ve gotten used to that as of late.”

  “It’ll be fine. Come on.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  RUSSELL

  Russell peered out of the passenger window at Amber who shoved open her door and jumped to the pavement. She nodded at the back seat where Cathy lay, then rushed down to the back end of the Suburban.

  Clyde leaned forward and secured the pistol under his seat.

  Russell opened his door, and leapt from the truck to the ground. He grabbed the outside handle and shoved it closed.

  The muffled barks from Max boomed from inside the SUV.

  Russell ran toward the back end of the SUV, then skirted past the bumper and rear hatch. Max barked at the window, and clawed at the glass, hoping someone would set him free. Russell ignored the canine’s calls for freedom, and continued on to the other side of the vehicle.

  Amber stood on the tips of her toes next to the back seat and leaned inside the cab. She pushed upward more with her feet.

  The blonde strands of Cathy’s hair dangled over the edge of the back seat. She groaned, low and subtle.

  “We’re here, Mom. Let’s get up and take you inside,” Amber said, speaking to Cathy in a worried, yet calm manner.

  Russell stood at Amber’s back and looked over her shoulder at Cathy who stirred in the seat. She groaned, moved her head, then ran her hand over her face.

  “Here. I’ll help her out and carry her inside,” Russell said, touching Amber’s shoulder. “That way, she won’t have to put pressure on her leg.”

  Amber nodded without looking back at Russell, then touched Cathy’s shoulder. “Hang in there, Mom. We’ll get you inside shortly.”

  She moved away from the back seat, giving Russell access to Cathy.

  “Cage,” Cathy said in a weak tone. “Did we make it… to Boston?”

  Russell looked her over and touched the sides of her arms. “Yeah. We’re at Massachusetts General Hospital to get you some proper medical attention.”

  Clyde stood at Russell’s ten o’clock, watching.

  Max continued barking and pacing the cargo hold of the Suburban. He jumped on the top of the back seat, draped his front paws over the edge, and sniffed at Russell’s face.

  “All right, Max. Hold on for a minute.” Russell moved his head away from the canine. “Can one of you let him out of the back? He probably needs to stretch his legs.”

  “I got him,” Clyde replied, heading to the rear hatch of the SUV.

  Max retreated away from the seat and moved toward the back of the Suburban. The door opened, flooding the vehicle with light. Clyde moved out of the way, allowing the anxious German shepherd to escape the confines of the cargo hold.

  Cathy pressed her elbows into the seat, and tried to sit up. A groan escaped from her mouth. Her body shuddered.

  Russell held onto Cathy’s arms, helping her upright in the seat. Both of her feet dropped to the floorboard. She pushed the palms of her hands into the seat and adjusted her backside.

  The rear hatch slammed closed with a dense thud. Cathy flinched, then cupped the side of her head with her hand. A grimace washed over her face. She scrunched her nose, and gnashed her teeth while touching the gunshot wound on her upper thigh.

  “Christ.” Cathy dipped her chin and studied her thigh. “I guess I’m paying the price now for lying there. I feel stiff all over.”

  Russell wiggled his fingers at her. “I bet. Here, let me help you out.”

  Cathy sat still a moment longer, then took a deep breath. She shimmied down the seat and reached for his shoulder. Her lips pursed and brow wrinkled.

  “Take it slow and easy, Mom,” Amber said from over Russell’s shoulder.

  Russell took Cathy’s hand, and helped her down to the pavement. She leaned against the edge of the seat, gasped, and looked to the gray sky overhead. Her mouth fell open–lids squeezed tight.

  “What’s wrong?” Russell asked, keeping hold of her hand.

  Cathy shook her head while taking deep, hard breaths. “My leg’s just throbbing something awful. All that blood rushing down is making it pulsate and hurt.”

  “I’m going to carry you inside.” Russell released her hand. “Put your arm over my shoulder so I can pick you up.”

  “I can get it.” Cathy waved him off. “I’ll manage.”

  Amber sighed aloud, then shook her head. “Will you stop being so damn stubborn and let him help you? Christ, Mom. You’ve been shot, and you’re in pain. You don’t have to do everything on your own. We’re here to help.”

  Cathy clenched her jaw and looked at Amber while palming her thigh. She glanced at Russell. “All right. I’m sorry. Old habits are hard to break.”

  “Thank you,” Amber replied with wide eyes.

&n
bsp; Russell turned, lowered, and slipped his arm under Cathy’s legs. Cathy draped her arm over his shoulder, then leaned into him. In one smooth movement, Russell scooped her up, and cradled her body next to his chest.

  “Ah!” Cathy squeezed her lips together.

  “Did my fingers hit your thigh?” Russell asked, turning away from the open door of the Suburban.

  Cathy shook her head. “It’s okay. The area around it is tender.”

  Max sat on his haunches, staring up at them. His ears stood on end, body rigid and taut as he eyed his handler.

  “Did you want to hang out here with him while Amber and I get Cathy settled inside?” Russell asked Clyde who flanked the rigid canine.

  “I can do that,” Clyde answered with a tilt of his head. “Not a big fan of hospitals anyway. We’ll be right here waiting.”

  Cathy dipped her chin and peered at Max. “You be good for Clyde, all right? Don’t give him a hard time or anything like that, you hear me?”

  Max groaned, then shifted his weight while glancing up at her.

  “We’ll be back as soon as we can.” Russell looked to Amber. “Come on.”

  Amber walked in front of them, heading past the vehicle parked next to the Suburban. Russell trailed her around the bumper toward the entrance of the hospital.

  The lights from inside the sprawling medical center beamed from behind the open sliding glass doors. Two more cops stood on either side of the entrance, watching the people who funneled in and out. Their fingers interlocked in front of their waists. Heavy, puffy bags tinted blue dropped under both eyes. Still, they appeared alert and focused, directing the flow of bodies in and out of the facility.

  Amber snaked and pushed her way through the long, haggard faces of the people in front of her. She peered back to Russell and waved her hand, motioning for him to keep pace.

  Russell struggled to stay close, not wanting to bang Cathy into anyone and cause her any additional torment. She held onto his neck with both arms as her body rocked against his chest.

 

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