“Sam, can you tell what’s pinning you?” I asked.
I heard the man strain to free himself. “A beam, I’m guessing. This end of the room must have collapsed. Your end?”
“Gone,” said Gus.
“We need to get out of here,” I urged. Rain was falling heavily and cold water was pooling underneath me.
“I need to get past you, darlin’. I can’t help Sam from here.”
Gus, the crawlspace is starting to flood.
I didn’t want Sam to overhear, so did my best to relay the information silently. Gus didn’t answer.
“Did you hear me?” I asked aloud.
“No.”
“There’s a lot of water,” I said, trying to keep the alarm out of my voice.
“Hang tight. I think I feel the lantern.”
Light flickered and then suddenly surrounded us, indicating he had found it. Gus’ appearance was alarming. The blood that ran down his face as he first entered the crawlspace was now coated with dirt and grime. His hair was disheveled and his eyes full of grave concern. Whatever was going on inside his head, I wasn’t privy. The last time we had lacked connection I had been pregnant with Hope, and I was quite certain that was not the case now.
“It’d be awesome if you could hurry,” said Sam, starting to sound panicked.
“It feels like we have company nearby,” I said
“Zoe, talk to me,” urged Gus as he struggled to crawl past me.
“They’re scattered but starting to move toward us.”
I moved backward, trying to give Gus more room. He was so much bigger than me and debris blocked his way.
“This is as far as I can go,” Gus shouted. “Son of a fucking bitch! Sam, can you see what’s pinning you?”
“Barely, but the light helps. Right now there’s a shit load of mud pooling by my left shoulder. My right hand’s caught under a collapsed beam. If I could roll that direction I think I could get it free. There’s no goddamn fucking room to even rotate.”
“I can’t reach him,” grumbled Gus through gritted teeth as he attempted to move aside collapsed flooring that blocked his way.
“You guys need to get out of here while you can,” called out Sam. He was clearly in pain.
“Gus, let me squeeze through. Before it’s too late,” I said.
As he began to back up, I slithered by him. The flooding was worsening and I could feel the chill trying its best to slow me down.
“Hand me the light!” I urged. The situation was quickly turning beyond dangerous.
I reached back until I felt the plastic casing of the lantern. My fingers gripped the edge of the base; it had broken and painfully sliced my right index finger open. I winced, but didn’t waste time in inspecting the wound.
“I’m almost there, Sam,” I grunted as I forced myself farther under the collapsed floor.
Sam’s feet were bare and coated in mud. He was twisted at the waist and struggling to free himself.
“If you can’t get me out, head east,” he grunted.
“We’ll get you,” I said sternly as I reached his side.
He ignored what I said. “There’s an old root cellar built into the hillside. We have emergency packs in there. It’s next to the ruins of an old smoke stack. Hard to miss.”
“Lay on your back,” I said. “I can’t see your hand.”
He flattened himself the best he could. His forehead was inches from a collapsed beam and the back of his head was surrounded with the sludge that was steadily rising. I wedged my torso across his and finally found his hand. It was pinned from the wrist to the ends of his fingers; only his pinky remained exposed. Blood pooled around his flesh.
“What a stupid fucking way to die,” he grumbled.
“Shut up. You’re not gonna die.”
I wedged my own hands under the collapsed wood and concrete that pinned him down. Lacking space, I barely managed to get my fingertips under the edge.
“Seriously, though. A fucking stuck hand?”
“Sam, shut up. I can’t get my hands under this crap. Can you wiggle your hand at all?”
I watched as his pinky flinched.
“Not really.”
“Zoe, we need to hurry,” urged Gus.
“I need to try to dig underneath his hand,” I called back to him. “I need a knife or something.”
“Don’t cut it off,” pleaded Sam.
I nearly choked. “I don’t intend to. I just need to loosen the dirt underneath so you can slide it out. Gus?” I called out. “A knife would be awesome right now. Or even a freaking spoon!”
“Hold up, darlin’! Both of you keep quiet. We have company.”
A chill ran up my spine. I still couldn’t fully sense the creature that was approaching. I didn’t know if it was one or more. I couldn’t tell if it knew we were there. I struggled to turn from my already awkward position. The movement caused Sam to cry out harshly.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
I looked back and watched as Gus pulled himself up through the opening in the ruined floor. The light from the lantern flickered as if the battery was struggling. The sound of rain continued to hammer down and the flow of sludge beneath us intensified. I knew that if I turned back to help Gus, Sam would drown.
“Go with him,” Sam said through clenched teeth. I turned my head back to look at him and saw the pain on his face as his muscles tensed under the effort to free himself.
“I told you to shut up,” I replied, irritated. “We’re on our own for now, and so is Gus.”
“My left back pocket. My pocket knife might still be there.”
I inched over until my hand found his waist. It was impossible to see since his body was half submerged. Faintly, I could sense Gus’ worry. He was afraid, but it was more than that. I frantically felt under the cold dirty water, searching for Sam’s blade.
“It’s not there, Sam!”
“You need to go,” he spat. I looked at his face.
The waterline was close to his mouth I knew he was right, that I should go, but found myself unable to leave his side.
“Fuck it,” I muttered as I stretched my body across his again.
Positioning was awkward. I needed both of my hands free, which meant putting all of my body weight on Sam. He was already having a hard time breathing.
“This is gonna hurt.”
“It’s useless. Just get your asses to the root cellar.”
I ignored him and reached for his injured arm.
“Don’t hurt me, Sam,” I said through clenched teeth.
I wrapped both hands around the far end of his arm, where the flooring trapped him. He flinched beneath me, realizing what I was about to do. I dug my knees into the ground the best I could, but had such little room above me with which to work. I managed to lace my middle and index fingers together and pulled hard.
“Nooooooo!”
Sam’s scream was earsplitting. It was followed by a half groaning, half crying. I felt his wrist cracking and crumbling beneath my hands. Knowing I wasn’t strong enough to break bones in this situation, I could only assume it had broken during the floor’s collapse.
“Stop!” he pleaded.
“It’s the only way. You’ll die if I stop,” I shouted.
I pulled again, pausing only when his other hand met my side painfully. His fingers dug into my flesh, but the pain didn’t stop me from pulling even harder.
“Zoe!” shouted Gus. “You have to get out of there!”
I took a deep breath, shoved a knee into Sam’s side, and pulled one last time. The resulting scream shook me to my core. I hit my head on a beam when his hand at last came free.
“Sam, move!” I ordered. “I don’t care how much your hand hurts, move now!”
My side ached horribly where his hand had squeezed me, and the bite wound on my butt was throbbing. My head hurt and sparkles of light littered my vision.
I backed up, only slowing to make sure Sam was following me. The crawlspace was
even tighter for him and he was hindered by being one-handed and in agony. Mud made the way slippery and getting to the exit seemed to take an eternity. Eventually Gus’ hands found me and with his help I emerged from the wet and cramped space.
The first rays of light were shining in the east and Gus was covered in blood.
“It’s okay. It’s a Roamer’s, not mine,” he assured me quickly.
I nodded. “Sam’s gonna need help. His wrist is broken.”
Our voices seemed to echo in the eerie stillness that was left behind by nature.
“I’m on it,” he said.
I watched the horizon as Gus leaned down and grabbed Sam under his good arm. Gus strained as he pulled Sam topside.
“The root cellar,” he huffed, out of breath.
“Gus, we have to head east. Sam said there’s a root cellar built into the side of a hill with an emergency stash.”
“Can you walk, brother?” Gus asked, looking intently at Sam. “You look like you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Yeah. I’ll be okay.”
“Zo, we need to make a sling for his arm,” Gus said.
The three of us looked at each other. None of us had been prepared to suddenly flee outside. We didn’t have much time, so I slipped out of my muddy hoodie and used Gus’ knife to slice the elastic section from the bottom of the sweatshirt.
“This’ll have to do,” I said as I reached up and hung the makeshift loop across his torso and helped lift his injured wrist into the other end. Sam looked pale and was breathing hard. I dropped the remainder of the wet shirt to the ground.
“Let’s go,” said Gus.
We set off in the direction of the rising sun. It was still too dark to make out much of the landscape, but we skirted around a fallen Roamer. Gus’ handiwork, I was sure. By the time we reached the ruins of the smoke stack, Sam had slowed considerably and his pallor had worsened. Gus supported him as we continued east.
CHAPTER 10
The cellar wasn’t much to speak of. Three of four walls were hard-packed earth. The rear was shorter than the front. The ceiling was little more than ill-fashioned two-by-fours and scrap metal. The front was made of a material which I had never seen before. Thankfully it was relatively dry inside. The door had been left unlocked, secured only by a bent nail and a loop made of twine. There was a dank smell to the heavily stagnant air. Transparent Rubbermaid totes were neatly stacked in the back left corner. They held bottles of what I assumed was water and several cans of food. Totes closer to the front were opaque but labeled “emergency packs.”
“Up on the wall, grab a lantern,” said Sam. He was clearly exhausted.
Gus was closest to the wall that had items hanging from nails and hooks. Wrenches, hammers, lanterns, screw drivers, some unusual homemade weapons that sported spikes, and rain jackets. As he picked the closest lantern, I lowered Sam to the dirt floor.
“Batteries are in with the emergency packs. Double bagged in Ziplocs.”
“I’ll grab them,” I offered.
I squatted in front of the large totes and removed the lid from the one closest to the door. Inside were four backpacks, all plain black. They were heavy duty and looked like they were meant for hiking. A piece of thin plywood acted as an inner divider, separating the backpacks on the left and other supplies on the right. It was on the smaller right side that I found the bags of batteries.
“What size?” I asked.
“C’s” answered my husband. “Four of them.”
After a quick hand-off of batteries, Gus got the light going quickly. In the small space, it was rather effective. Unnerving long shadows were cast about, dancing as Gus walked toward the only door.
“We need to stay quiet,” said Sam. “And we can’t stay long. If they come, we’ll be trapped in here.”
“Ayup. I agree.”
“I need pain pills. Can one of you grab the first aid kit?”
“Sure. Where is it?”
“The bin next to the batteries. With the white lid.”
Since I was closest, I twisted until I could reach the bin. As I took the lid off, I jumped back, startled.
“Shit!” I yelped.
A dingy looking opossum scurried farther into the corner.
“Don’t move,” whispered Gus.
“Fuck that,” I replied, scooting away from the bin and the overgrown marsupial.
“Hold still, darlin’. I’m serious.”
I sat there, next to Sam, and watched the shadowy corner. Nothing happened. I didn’t look behind me when I heard Gus rustling with the items on the far wall.
“Don’t move too fast,” mumbled Sam.
“I won’t. If we’re lucky it’s playing ‘possum,” answered Gus in his hushed voice.
Gus proceeded toward where the creature was last seen. He had to hunch slightly to clear the low ceiling.
“Zoe, I need you to pull the supply bin back.”
“Why?”
“So I can kill it.”
“Don’t let it run at me,” I ordered.
“Ayup.”
I changed position and stood on my knees. I reached forward and pulled on the plastic container. The opossum hissed loudly, but was silenced as soon as Gus brought a hammer down hard on its head. He gave it a second whack for good measure, then turned toward us with a big grin on his face.
“Dinner,” he said with a wink.
He pulled his hunting knife from the sheath on his belt and quickly set to field dressing the dead animal. I turned away, not out of disgust, but to find the first aid kit. Sam’s breathing was heavy and by the way his face was contorting I knew he was miserable. The bin was well organized. Thermal emergency blankets on the left, IV bags and supplies in the middle, vials of medication that I recognized as antibiotics, and three white plastic cases with red crosses on their fronts. I grabbed the one on top.
“There should be an ace wrap in each case and the pain pills are in the compartment in the lid,” muttered the injured man.
I opened the case and grabbed a bottle of pills.
“Gus, tell me which ones are for pain,” I said.
“Read ‘em off.”
“Doxycycline, Lorazepam, Diphenhydramine, Oxycodone. The Oxy, right?”
“Ayup. What milligrams are they?”
“Five.”
“Give him two of those and one of the Lorazepam. It’ll help him relax.”
I popped the lid on the bottle of Oxycodone and picked up the bottle of Lorazepam. “These say half a milligram,” I said for good measure.
“The Lorazepam?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit. Give him four.”
“You sure?”
“Ayup. That’s a really low dose.”
I fished out the rest of the pills. Both the lorazepam and oxycodone looked nearly identical: small, white, and round. I grabbed a bottle of water from the stash at the back of the cellar before approaching Sam with his pain relief. By the time I got back to him, he had slumped against one of the bins, his eyes closed. His left hand supported a very swollen and bruised right wrist.
“Sam,” I said gently.
His eyes immediately shot open and he looked at me intensely.
“It’s okay. It’s just me. Gus said to take these for the pain.”
“Thanks,” he said, his voice cracking. “Water first? My throat’s so dry.”
“His wrist is swelling, Gus” I said as I handed Sam the bottle of water.
“Did you find ACE wraps?” asked Gus.
“Yeah.”
“Can you wrap it? Mid fingers to mid forearm? Not too tight, but snug. It’ll help keep the swelling down.”
I didn’t answer, but fished a wrap from the first aid kit.
“Sam...”
“I heard,” he said. “Go ahead.”
“Swallow these.”
I handed him the six pills. He tossed them all into his mouth at once and took a large pull from the bottle. A very faint tickle began within my mind, o
riginating from far off. It was unmistakable the dead.
“Stay quiet?” I looked at him to make sure he understood.
“I’ll be done here in a minute, Zo. I can help with his wrist.”
“Thanks.”
The thought I picked up from Gus was vague, but I knew he was worried that Sam might involuntarily hurt me in the heat of his pain if I were to wrap his wrist.
“Let the pills kick in for a few minutes before we get started. Can you look around for dry clothes?”
“Sam? Are there any here?” I asked.
He nodded. “Back by the bins of water. There’s some of those big plastic vacuum-seal storage bags like they used to advertise on TV. It’s hard to see from here but there’s a shelf hidden up under what looks like the back ceiling. You’ll see how to open the hatch once you get up there. There’s some dried meat too, and cans of nuts.”
I lifted myself off the ground to a crouch, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m really sorry about your wrist.”
He looked back at me and forced a smile. “You saved my life.”
Without saying any more, I stood and found my way to the back of the cellar. Built into the back dirt wall was a plywood door that was well camouflaged. A small bit of twine hung from the side. Tugging, the board fell outward and to the ground. Luckily, I stepped back in time so it didn’t land on my feet. The cavity behind the board was larger than I expected. It filled with light as Gus approached me from behind, lantern in hand.
“We need to get out of here soon,” I said quietly.
“How soon?”
“Ten minutes max. I don’t think they know we’re here, but they’re getting closer.”
“We all need dry clothes. We should be okay without masks or bandanas, until this sludge dries. The rain was at least good for that.”
“Whoever packed this was well organized. These are all labeled. You and Sam are about the same size, right? XL?”
“Yeah that sounds about right.”
“Here.” I handed him a clear plastic bag. “I’ll find mine, just get down to Sam and dig through those. I’ll bring food down with me.”
“I’ll start bandaging his wrist. Get dressed and throw a first aid kit into one of the emergency packs.”
“Should I grab them all extras?”
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