“The pain . . . the pain is awful. I don’t think I’m going to make it,” she weakly said.
“You just have to hang in there. I’m going to get you through this.” He pulled out a vial of morphine and a syringe from his pack. Then unwrapped the syringe and filled it with the drug. “I’m going to give you this to ease the pain.”
Mary nodded.
“Hey, wait. Will that hurt the baby? I didn’t think you were supposed to give drugs during labor?” Jeffery asked.
“It shouldn’t matter. I’m going to work fast enough the morphine won’t have time to have an effect on the child.” Cain tied off Mary’s arm with a rag and gave her the injection. Mary relaxed and lied back with a sigh.
“Mary, you are going to have to help me. Breathe and push when I tell you.”
Mary was aware enough to comply. She followed Cain’s instructions and delivered the child within the hour. She passed out from exhaustion.
Cain pulled out a tiny baby girl. She might have weighed four pounds. There were ten fingers and ten toes, but half of the left side of her skull was missing, exposing her brain. Cain held the child in both hands and turned facing Jeffery.
“Oh, my God, no . . . no,” Jeffery sobbed. “Doc, this is horrible . . . .”
“I’m sorry, Jeffery,” Cain said softly.
Jeffery reached out to take the child but stopped. He turned his back, and said, “Don’t let her suffer, Doc. I don’t want her to suffer . . . .”
Cain understood. He placed his right hand against the child’s nose and mouth, and held it tightly for a full ten minutes. Bill and Sam consoled Jeffery while Mary shallowly breathed in merciful sleep.
“She’s gone, Sam. God rest her soul.” Cain clipped the umbilical cord and wrapped the baby in a towel.
“We were worried about the delivery. We didn’t know of any children surviving birth since the Storm. But we had hoped. We had hoped it would work for us.”
“Lot of toxins in the air. Radiation too, I imagine,” Cain said.
“Doc, why—why did this have to happen?”
“Consider the work of God: for who can make that straight, which he hath made crooked?” Cain paused, and said, “Hath not the potter power over the clay?”
“I know what you’re saying. Still . . . Please, just take care of Mary.”
“I’ll make sure she is resting comfortably. I just need to clean her up.”
“I want to go and bury my daughter now. I don’t want Mary to see her like this.”
“I’ll stay with her until you get back,” Cain assured.
“Thanks, Doc. God bless you.” Jeffery left with Sam and Bill close by his side.
“And you and your loss.” Cain turned his attention to Mary.
He cleaned up the afterbirth, washed Mary as well as he could, and then opened his backpack. He took out his two .45s and put each in its holster. Then, searched until he found a bottle of barbiturates. He emptied half the bottle’s contents into his hand, and then shoved each pill through Mary’s anus and up her rectum with his index finger. ‘Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favor with God.’
Jeffery had spent the night with Mary. It was her last night on Earth. She was asleep when he had returned from burying Sheila. Jeffery had named his daughter after his mother.
Mary never woke after giving birth. Jeffery blamed himself for not staying awake all night to watch her. He said he was so tired that his body overruled his mind. He believed if only he had been awake when she stopped breathing, he, or the Doc, might have been able to save her.
The Doc said no to that though. He said that she died from internal bleeding and that there was nothing that anyone could have done for her. They buried Mary next to her daughter. They had been separated for only a short time and would spend the rest of eternity together.
* * *
The following day Cain took one of the cabins in the barn and made a makeshift ‘examining’ room out of it. There were several empty cabins for him to choose. He wondered how many others of this bunch had died over past two years.
The people were eager to line up and discuss all of their aches and pains, and show him all their scrapes and bruises. His backpack was full of supplies he had collected here and there over his travels. Most of the drugs were beyond their expiration date but they still retained some potency.
As Cain had witness on others before, most everyone had some type of skin cancer. This was most likely due to the damaged ozone layer not filtering the harmful UV rays from the sun. Most of the cancers were basal cell carcinomas, but a few of the adults had the more deadly melanomas. Cain reassured them all with a smile there was nothing to be concerned about.
The shy little girl and her father were the last to be examined. The girl’s name was Cindy. The father’s name, Ralph. Cain examined Cindy under the watchful eye of Ralph, who stood by with folded arms across his chest and a scowl on his face.
“Tell me, Ralph, how’s her health in general? Does she complain about anything?” Cain asked while not looking up. He had a hand crank LED flashlight and used it to examine Cindy’s throat and eyes.
“Well, she don’t talk much since her mom died.”
Cain unbuttoned her little dress and let it fall down to her feet. He walked around her looking for skin abrasions, and listened to her heart and breathing with a stethoscope. “Is that all?”
“Sometimes . . . sometimes she says that it burns when she pees,” Ralph hesitantly said.
Cain stooped in front of Cindy and pulled her underwear down. He did a quick look, being careful not to be too invasive, and pulled the underwear back up. “Is she drinking enough water?”
“Well, hell, I don’t know. I give her a drink when she asks for it.”
Cain pulled the dress up and buttoned it back, gave Cindy a hug, and thanked her for being such a good little girl. Cain examined Ralph mostly in silence, receiving an occasional grunt for a response to a question.
His examination had proved what he suspected. The child had been sexually abused by her father.
Sexual abuse didn’t usually leave physical evidence. Cain had been trained as a Youth Minister to be on the lookout for signs and signals from the children’s actions. Changes in general behavior, inappropriate sexual behavior, fear of going home after church, things of that nature. Cindy had shown signs and her examination confirmed his suspicions. Urination problems were a classic symptom. Her underwear held blood stains that water couldn’t wash out.
Ralph put his shirt back on, and Cain sent the two off. He then went to his backpack, and searched until he found a pen and a writing tablet.
Cain left from his cabin nearly an hour later with a determined expression on his face. Bill was by the river heating water in a big pot under a coal burning fire. Boiling the water didn’t filter out any toxins, but it did kill stomach distressing bacteria. Cain increased his gait and headed straight for him. “Bill, we’ve got a problem.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” Bill had an old bellows and was forcing more air on the coal.
“I’m not going to give you all the details now. It’s Ralph. Go gather all the men and get back here as soon as you can.” Cain used a sense of urgency in his voice.
“Ralph? Is he sick or something? Is he contagious?” Bill asked.
“Worse. Please, go. Bring all the men back as quickly as possible. Ralph said he and Cindy were leaving to pick berries. He’ll be back soon.” Cain stared Bill eye to eye. Bill left without any further protest.
Bill returned within a half hour. Most of the men had been fishing not far down the river. The six men didn’t look very happy. This newcomer had disrupted the routine of the day.
Cain stood as ridged as a statue as they approached. It should have been obvious to them something was very wrong by his demeanor.
“All right, Cain. What is it? What’s so important that we had to come now?” Sam asked.
“Ralph is sexually abusing Cindy,” Cain blurted. Surprised questions
and protest erupted from the men simultaneously. Cain continued, “I saw the signs. I did an examination on Cindy. I know it’s true.”
“I don’t believe it,” said Buddy.
“I need more proof,” said Joe.
“Why should we believe you?” said Sam.
Cain pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it, and held it for all to see. “After the examination I was able to spend a few minutes alone with Cindy. I drew a picture of a little girl and asked her where her father liked to touch her. She showed me here, here, and here.” Cain had circled where the touch points were, and pointed them out with his finger.
“I can hardly believe it,” said Tom.
“Let’s confront Ralph,” said Bill.
“He’ll deny it,” Cain said. “And there is something else. I asked Cindy if she knew if her father had touched any other child . . . she told me . . . Kayla.”
Gasps went out and Sam swooned and dropped to one knee. Kayla was his daughter. “No . . . no, this can’t be true. Not my Kayla. When could have this happened? Why didn’t I see it?”
“Cain, what should we do? How do we handle this?” Jeffery asked.
“If a man lies with his daughter, he shall surely be put to death.” Cain intentionally misquoted the scripture. He did it to relieve their consciences for what they were about to do.
Ralph and Cindy returned with a gallon bucket full of black berries. Ralph slowed his stride when he saw the group waiting for them. All the men carried guns. The solemn expressions gripping their faces acted as a barricade. He turned his head from side to side, as if looking for a safe path to run.
“Uh . . . guys? You uh . . . you want some berries?” Ralph’s voice shook.
Emily, Sam’s wife, steeped over to Cindy and took her by the hand. “Come on, honey, let’s go and wash these berries up so we can eat them with supper.” Cindy took Emily’s hand and looked back at her father for permission. Ralph nodded, swallowed, and licked his lips.
“Let’s take a walk, Ralph. We’ve got something to discuss,” Sam said without emotion. They traveled along the river for a few hundred yards. When the area cleared of heavy foliage, Cain called for them to stop.
Ralph stood opposite of the group. Cain moved in between him and the rest of the men. Ralph couldn’t meet their gazes. The accusing stare of his jury burned through him.
Cain broke the silence. “Ralph Underwood. I give you a chance to confess your sin before men and before God.”
Ralph started shaking. Tears streamed down his face.
Cain spoke again. “Thy eye is evil, thy body is also full of darkness.”
Ralph cried uncontrollably.
A sinking feeling of realization seemed to fall over the group. This was a confession. They all had secretly hoped that this had been a mistake. They didn’t want to deal with this as a reality. But now they were forced too.
Sam pushed Cain aside and yelled. “You lousy piece of crap! How could you do that to your own daughter? How could you do that to Kayla? My Kayla!”
Ralph’s head jerked back in surprise. Before he could protest, Sam’s Browning bolt action rifle fired, sending a .308 caliber bullet into Ralph’s forehead. Brains and goo flew out the back of his head. His body fell back and hit the ground.
The men lifted Ralph and unceremoniously tossed him in the river. Sam walked away in silence. The others followed and consoled him on the walk back.
Little Cindy was told her father was traveling to the next town to look for canned goods and medicine. That he would be back in a few days and she would be staying with Sam, Emily, and their children until he returned. Cindy gave Emily a big smile when she was told this. Her teeth were stained from the blackberries.
* * *
A hill that had once been drift mined for coal was a few miles down the road. A cave-in had shut the mine down and the entrance had been boarded up. It all happened prior to the 1900’s. Jeffery and Tom had known about the mine from stories their grandparents had told them. Before the winter last year, the two pried their way in and chipped out several hundred pounds of coal.
After breakfast, Joe hooked up a mule to a homemade yoke rigged to a 4X8 utility trailer. The cart wasn’t a thing of beauty but it was surprisingly well balanced. Cain joined a party of five volunteers to gather coal.
Tom and Diane, Joe and Bell, were the only childless couples of the group. There was an underlying kinship between the two couples, having never known the joys of parenthood. Buddy was Bell’s older brother. He joined this outing to ensure there were enough strong backs to get the job done. He left his wife, Cheryl, to tend to their child back at the barn.
The six traveled on foot with Joe leading the mule by the bridle. Jackson had also joined the bunch and trotted by the mule’s heels to keep him in line. They arrived at their destination in less than two hours. An overgrown dirt road joined the highway and led to the coal bearing hill about a half mile away.
Cain was surprised the others were so upbeat in spirit. He supposed they were too naive to realize the dire predicament they and all of mankind were in. He blamed their youth for blinding them from the ultimate truths that tomorrow had in store.
‘There is nothing better for a man than to eat and drink and tell himself that his labor is good.’ Cain used to believe that, but not anymore.
When they reached the mouth of the tunnel, Joe unhooked the mule and tied him under the shade of a tree. Everyone took a water break, including Jackson and the mule.
The utility trailer was loaded with tools. There were two pick axes, hammers, chisels, shovels, several five gallon buckets, and a wheelbarrow. There were also a few handmade torches to provide light while they worked. Tom lit two using a flint and steel. He took one and gave Joe the other. Everyone grabbed a tool of choice, and the group followed single file into the cool, dark tunnel.
The passage was less than fifteen feet wide and nearly ten feet high. Large timbers stood dutifully propping the dark firmament above. There was a distinct rotten egg smell that burned the inside of Cain’s nostrils. He knew it to be hydrogen sulfide gas. It was just one of the hazards of harvesting the ancient fossil fuel.
Joe left his torch about fifteen feet from the entrance, which was halfway from where they would be working. The tunnel ended at the site of the cave-in. It was a wall of crushed and solid coal.
“Okay guys, let’s get busy.” Tom wedged his torch between two large chunks of coal. The flickering orange flame provided just enough light to work in. “Cain, gather what you can by hand, or use a hammer and chisel. We don’t want anything smaller than fist size. If you end up with bigger pieces that’s okay. We’ll bust them up back at the barn. If you use the shovel to pick up loose pieces pick the chunks out. We don’t need to carry any of the coal dust out of here. It just adds weight and it doesn’t burn well. Leave the pick axe work to me and Buddy.”
“Yes, sir,” Cain coolly said.
In a short amount of time, the wheelbarrow filled with Kentucky’s finest bituminous coal. Cain volunteered to wheel it out and load it on the utility trainer. Tom asked Cain if that was a good idea because of his bad leg. Cain ignored the question and rolled the wheelbarrow out in silence. Tom and the others continued working, storing the coal in five gallon buckets until Cain’s return.
Cain made it past the halfway point and had to shield his eyes as he approached the rays of the noonday sun. He parked the wheelbarrow to the side and made his way to his backpack. Jackson slept next to it with his head between his outstretched front legs. Cain opened the pack and gave his dog a pat on the head, pulled out two M67 grenades, and closed the pack.
“Stay here,” he told Jackson, and gave him another pat. Cain walked back in the tunnel and stopped at the halfway point. He could see the five working in the dim light of the torch. With a grenade in each hand, he pulled the pins out with his teeth, and spit them to the ground. He released his death grip on the levers and tossed them beside his new found friends.
Cain h
eard Diane say, “What the hell was that?” as he turned, and ran out of the mouth of the tunnel.
The explosions were simultaneous. Small pellets of coal and black dust rolled out the mine’s entrance. Cain had taken refuge outside the line of fire and was at the side of his frightened canine.
‘All is vanity. What profit hath a man of all his labor?’ Cain opened his canteen and drank.
‘Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.’ Cain had been the one to give it to them.
*
Cain led the mule down the highway, steadying his own walk with the bat. Jackson was doing what his genetic programming demanded and brought up the rear.
Within a mile from the barn Cain saw a man running toward them. He unsnapped the straps of his holsters, making his .45s ready for access.
The man waved his arms and called out. It was Jeffery. Cain quickened his pace as much as he could, and soon the two met.
“Cain!” Jeffery was almost out of breath. “Cain, you gotta come back,” he gasped for more air. “It’s, Sam. He’s been shot. His gun exploded. He’s hurt real bad. Shrapnel hit his chest and he’s bleeding badly.” Jeffery bent over with his hands pressed into his thighs, attempting to regain his breath.
“Is he conscious?” Cain dryly asked.
“No . . . no. It’s bad, Cain, real bad. He needs you now. I was coming to get you. Sam was shooting at a snake and his gun exploded. Bill found a piece of wood jammed in the barrel of Sam’s revolver. It was sabotaged.”
Cain remained silent.
“Who could have—hey, where’re the others? Where’s the trailer?” Jeffery came out of his panic and back to his senses.
Cain hesitated and looked at the ground. “There has been a terrible accident.”
“An accident! What happened? Where’re the others?”
“They were all inside the mine. There was an explosion. I guess the torches lit off a natural gas pocket. It was a total cave-in. I’m sorry, but the situation was hopeless.”
“Dead? There’re all dead?” Jeffery’s voice cracked.
The Last Savior Page 2
