Project Columbus: Omnibus

by J. C. Rainier

  By the time they reached the bottom of the flight to the ground floor, Darius’s legs were burning, and his chest heaved with every gasp of air he drew in. With the imminent danger of falling down the stairs gone, he gently took a knee and set his deputy on the floor, rolling him onto his back.

  “C’mon, wake up,” he said, gently shaking Tom’s shoulders. “Wake up!”

  The flow of blood had not slowed much, and it covered much of the left side of Tom’s face. Still the man did not open his eyes or give any sign that he was about to come around. Darius took in his surroundings. The lower level of Civic Hall was mostly dominated by a meeting hall that ran the width of the building, and the staircase leading to the offices above was tucked behind this room. The few decorations that had adorned the meeting hall were strewn about, and the flagstaff that stood in the corner of the dais near the stairwell had toppled over and rolled off of the platform.

  Darius again collected Tom, proceeding toward the front door of the building. As he passed the fallen colors, Darius cast an anxious gaze at them. The blue and silver banner of Concordia was folded in half over the flag staff, which made the angel look as if she were pleading for mercy. The eerie symbolism gave Darius a moment of pause, and suddenly he felt very small.

  Lord have mercy on us all. Protect us from this disaster. He paused in the middle of his thought. Give me the strength to see us all through this trial.

  They reached the door, which stuck slightly before giving way. As he threw a hand up to shield his eyes from the midday sun, the sounds of chaos reached his ears. Shouts of confusion and screams of terror echoed from everywhere. Debris from the crumbling wood-and-stone facades of buildings littered Foundation Street as far as he could see in either direction. Moments later, Traci Josephson’s white pickup–the only one on the north side of the river–barreled out of Benedict Square Park and turned sharply onto Foundation, in the direction of the town’s hospital.

  “C’mon, Tom,” Darius muttered as he helped his companion down the street after them.

  Less than a block later, at Benedict Boulevard, Darius received welcome assistance from Frank Devereaux, who had emerged from the Square only moments after Traci had left. Devereaux swiftly moved in and linked his arms with Tom on the other side, taking half of the load off of Darius.

  “What happened, Governor?” asked Devereaux. Though Darius didn’t care whether the citizens of the colony addressed him by his title, he knew Frank always would. In addition to being the finest butcher in the city, he was the commander of the Colonial Volunteer Militia, and one of only a handful of Marines that had hitched a ride with the sleeper ships after the attack on Earth.

  “Not completely sure, Captain. The quake hit and I took cover. Tom wasn’t able to get clear fast enough. Bookcase fell on him, and I think he hit his head, too. We need to get him to the hospital.”

  “Let me give you a hand. Sergeant Josephson has Doc Taylor with her, and they’re headed to the hospital with a couple injured.”

  “Good,” Darius nodded as he shifted his load slightly to account for the balance that Devereaux provided.

  They moved as quickly down the street as they safely could with the injured deputy between them. By that time the streets had become choked with the citizens of Concordia. Some were wailing or panicking while others called out for their friends and neighbors. Several began to venture into the wreckage of buildings in search of those who might be trapped.

  “Get to Michael and make sure the reactor’s safe,” Darius boomed at Vince Hartley as soon as he saw him lingering in the crowd. He then singled out his liaison, Roger Miller, who was directing a search. “Get across the river and make sure Quinn checks out Gabriel.”

  A young teenage girl with tears streaming down her cheeks ran up to Darius, shrieking almost at the top of her lungs. “I can’t find my mom and dad. Please, you have to help me.”

  “Governor, we’ve got people trapped in the grain mill,” Don Abernathy stated as he approached just a moment later. “The building’s collapsed on them.”

  Damn it.

  Darius scanned the crowd and picked four gawkers, ordering them to follow Don to the mills. He dispatched another two to help the frantic girl with the search for her parents.

  Frank turned to Darius. “I’ll take Tom to the hospital. You’re needed here,” he boomed in a firm voice.

  Darius nodded once in acknowledgement. “I’m activating the CVM, Captain. Put your command center somewhere near the hospital. I want a second post near the south side clinic. Coordinate searches for missing persons, and assist the doctors in any way they need.”

  “Yes, Governor.”

  Captain Devereaux continued down the road with the injured deputy governor. Darius rubbed his shaved head as he surveyed the destruction around him. Besides the damage to Civic Hall, at least four shops along Benedict and three on Foundation had lost at least one wall. From what he could see of the burgeoning crowd, it looked like most of the townsfolk had escaped serious injury.

  “I need a runner,” he bellowed. Jamie Taylor, son of Dr. Taylor, stepped forth. “Go to one of the farms. Any of them. I need horses. At least three.”

  “Of course.” He nodded and headed in a full sprint through Benedict Square.

  Urgent shouts rose from where Kimura’s Clothiers stood. Two men were waving frantically and pointing at a pile of rubble. Darius’s legs moved without thought, carrying him at full speed over the broken debris. His nerves began to unravel as he dreaded what he might find under the mess. Still he plunged forth, attacking the pile with his bare hands. He cast rocks aside and heaved at heavy timbers. He could hear cries from those trapped within. Though wrenching to hear, it was at least reassurance that whoever was buried was still alive.

  Moments later he and the other citizens had freed the Walkers from their tomb of wreckage. Matt favored his left arm and howled in pain. Leah sobbed and wobbled into the street, where she collapsed in Saika’s arms. Darius took the time to let out a relieved sigh; the Walkers were injured, but at least they were alive.

  He then turned his attention to the crowd in the street. “All members of the Colonial Volunteer Militia are to report to Captain Devereaux at the hospital as soon as you are available. The rest of you citizens, please try to stay out of the buildings. If you find anyone trapped, get help. Don’t try to get them out alone, especially if they are inside a building. If you are asked for assistance by the CVM, please do so immediately and to the best of your ability.”

  Darius doubled back toward the Square, and was met by Jamie, who was astride a horse, leading two others in full saddle at his side. Darius climbed on top of the familiar paint gelding, then took the reins from Jamie.

  “Take these other two horses to Captain Devereaux and have him put them to use. Tell Sergeant Josephson to get down to the mill with her truck. We’re going to have casualties there, and we need her help transporting the victims.”

  “Yes, Governor.”

  Darius spurred his mount onward to the grain mill, steeling his nerves for what lay ahead.

  Calvin McLaughlin

  14 June, 6 yal, 18:27

  North Concordia

  Darkness enveloped Cal. It was the sort of darkness that could not be penetrated, and even his arms seemed constricted by the inky void. His fingers wiggled, though the numbness of his dark embrace made them feel somehow disembodied, at least for the fleeting moments that he thought he could feel them.

  It took Cal a moment to figure out that he was asleep, though the revelation didn’t make it any easier for him to awaken. Every part of his body was too heavy to move. Even his eyelids could not be coaxed into opening. He began to wonder if he was in fact dead, and not asleep. He then considered why this concept didn’t terrify him, even though, by every right, it should.

  Lexi’s going to be so pissed if I’m dead.

  He waited alone with his thoughts for quite some time before another realization hit him.

  I’m thi
nking. But there’s no light. No flames. Nothing at all.

  Cal’s churning thoughts shifted once more as he considered the possibility of something else being the cause of his imprisonment. He wondered if there was something wrong in his head. He pondered what it might take to revive his senses, or if this was something he would just have to wait out.

  I’ve heard that people in comas can hear the voices of their friends and family when they talk. If he had been able, he would have shrugged at that moment. I guess it’s worth a shot.

  There was still no control over his body, so all that Cal could do was relax his mind. Pushing away his worrisome thoughts, he calmed himself with thoughts of Alexis’s brilliant white smile and bouncing auburn locks. Through the dark he was able to conjure a ghostly glimmer of his wife, cradling her swollen belly and laughing. He held on to the image as long as he could, but it faded after mere moments, replaced by a soft, almost imperceptible glow before him.

  Cal tried again to bring her into his mind, but the image eluded him. Instead, the dull, diffuse light before him grew brighter, and he could discern a slight flicker in its intensity. The sensation of light was not the only thing that came to him at that time. Barely more than a throb, his left side and head did indeed ache, giving him the first real sensation he could confirm.

  The dead don’t feel pain, do they? No, that wouldn’t make sense.

  His eyelids twitched as a sudden, sharp sound came to his ears. It was far louder than he expected, but by no means painful or terrifying. It did evoke another emotion in him: concern. He wasn’t sure why, as the noise was shrill and broken.

  Crying?

  As his eyes fully opened, he looked to his left, searching for the source of the noise. Cal’s head was swimming, making his field of vision feel oddly tilted. He was in a dimly lit, unfamiliar room, lying on a bed. Along the far wall were a narrow wooden table and a single chair. A storm lantern sat atop the table, its flame flickering and swaying as it drew air into its minute combustion chamber. A dark figure moved in front of him, reaching down into a bassinet at the side of his bed. The man picked up the child from its resting place, soothing it as it screamed nearly at the top of its tiny lungs.

  My God…

  The man then walked to the chair and sat down. Pale light washed across Hunter’s face as he adjusted the crook of his arm to better support the baby. Cal’s child.

  “Hunter,” he croaked through parched and cracked lips.

  Hunter looked up at Cal. Exhaustion was scrawled all over his face. His eyes drooped, making him look a decade older, and the shadows gave him an almost haunted look. His forehead was smeared with dirt and dust. Hunter smiled, though weak and fleeting.

  “You’re awake,” he noted.

  “Where am I?”

  “The hospital. You were in pretty bad shape when Traci brought you in. She said a building fell on you. Doc says that you lost a lot of blood, and that you’re lucky to be alive.”

  He looked under the sheets. The lantern cast just enough illumination that he could see the bandages wrapped around his torso, stained slightly where they caressed his left side. Another bandage was wrapped around his right hand, extending halfway up his forearm.

  Maybe she won’t be so pissed.

  Cal returned his attention to the child in Hunter’s arms. “Is that… that’s our baby, isn’t it? Mine and Lexi’s, I mean.”

  Hunter nodded, rocking ever so gently.

  Cal exhaled with relief, his mouth widening into a smile. Tears immediately came to his eyes, and he brought a fist to his mouth, fighting back his urge to both whoop and cry at the same time. “What is it?”

  “A girl.”

  “A girl,” he parroted. He paused for a moment, both stunned and elated. The vertigo he felt suddenly shifted, swinging in the opposite direction. Cal closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Can I see her?”

  “Of course.”

  Hunter crossed the room, gently cradling the baby girl as he knelt next to the bed. Her skin was wrinkled and folded, and her cheeks were bright red. Her eyes closed as she cried out. Only a couple wispy strands of hair adorned her crown. Cal reached his hand out and stroked her cheek. It was unexpectedly soft; he had heard that babies were, but he had not expected that degree of softness.

  “Can I hold her?”

  Hunter sighed and drew back slightly as he shook his head. “Doc said that if you wake up you’re not supposed to touch her until she says it’s ok. With how doped up you look right now, I agree with her. I’ll hold her for you, though. Give me a sec to get the chair, okay?”

  The world again shifted, reversing course. Cal had the sensation that he was being driven into his bed, though he knew that he had not moved at all. He ignored this, desperately wanting to hold his daughter. “I’m fine,” he bluffed.

  “Orders are orders, Cal.”

  Hunter placed the girl back in the bassinet, prompting a fresh round of squalling. He retrieved the chair and placed it next to Cal before collecting the girl once more and sitting next to her father. Cal reached out to stroke her, and immediately her tiny hand clenched his pinky. Chills ran down his spine, and another grin washed across his face.

  “Wow. Look at that!”

  Hunter mirrored the smile on his friend’s face.

  “Did she do this for Lexi?” Cal asked.

  The smile evaporated in an instant.

  “What?” The pit of his stomach began to tremble, and he felt as if his head did a barrel roll. “What’s wrong?”

  Hunter slid the chair back along the noise, its legs scraping and stuttering along the floor. The newborn clutched her father’s finger for dear life before the reach became too far.

  “Hunter?”

  Hunter’s broad shoulders slumped as he heaved a great sigh. “Lexi didn’t make it.” The words tumbled out of his mouth as if he was biting off his tongue at the same time. “She passed away right after your daughter was born.”

  Cal’s stomach churned at once, and his fingers went numb. His jaw slacked, and the edges of his vision blurred. A moment later, he began to hyperventilate. Loss and despair coursed through every pathway in his mind and soul.

  “No…” he croaked feebly.

  Hunter’s silence and weary eyes dispelled any hope Cal held that this was just a cruel hoax. That Alexis would jump out from the dark shadows and scare him. Instead all that returned from the gloom was his own sobs, echoing back to him.

  “No!”

  “Cal, I’m so sorry.”

  Cal screamed an obscenity at the top of his lungs, arching his back and throwing himself onto the bed, fists clenched and arms taut. Pain shot like lightning down his side as whatever drug Doctor Taylor had given him could not dull the tremendous surge from his nerves. He cried out again, this time as much in agony as anguish. His daughter joined in the wailing, screeching as loud as her tiny lungs could manage.

  “Take it easy,” Hunter said in a hushed tone as he bolted out of the chair and placed his free hand on Cal’s shoulder. The door burst open, and Kayla Reid hustled in, her protective apron smeared with blood.

  “God damn it, Hunter, why?” Cal seethed.

  “Because you’ll tear yourself up and I don’t know if Doc can put you back together again.”

  “Calm down, Cal,” Kayla soothed as she deftly checked his bandages.

  “No,” Cal choked on his tears. “Why her? Why not me?”

  As soon as Kayla finished her checks, Hunter passed the wailing baby off to her, sending them both out of the room and away from Cal’s toxic emotional outburst.

  Hunter sat on the edge of the bed. He pressed his hand against Cal’s shoulder firmly enough to pin him, but not so much that it hurt. Alexis had been his friend as well, and the pain of her loss was clearly evident in his blue eyes. “There wasn’t anything we could have done. She went into labor right after the earthquake. Traci picked her up on the way to the hospital. I guess you were passed out in the back
. Lexi was freaked because she couldn’t wake you up.”

  “No…” he whispered again.

  “Doc and Kayla had their hands full when they got here. Doctor Granger was injured so he couldn’t help at first, and I guess Carla was on the other side of the river when we got hit, so she was over there helping out at South Clinic.” Hunter sighed and bit his lip. “Doc was patching you back together when Lexi started bleeding out fast. Corporal Swift saw her pass out and carried her into the OR.”

  “God no,” he rasped hoarsely. “Please.”

  Hunter’s fingers dug into Cal’s shoulder, the knuckles turning white as snow as they clamped hard enough to make the pain shift from his side to his clavicle. “Doc did everything she could.”

  “She should have let me die instead.”

  “What?” Hunter gasped and pulled back for a second. His momentary confusion melted away, and he shook his head vigorously. “No, it wasn’t like that. Doc knew you were stable enough for her to work on Lexi. But she went real fast. I mean, it was just a couple seconds after Swift brought her in. Doc couldn’t save her. She was barely able to save your daughter.”

  Cal’s gut wrenched tight, and his voice failed him at last. Torrents of tears rolled down his face, dropping onto the mattress beneath, which absorbed and held them fast. He wanted to scream again, but didn’t have the energy. He wanted to curl up and sleep, but he was too furious. He wanted to do something, anything at all, but his shattered heart would not let him move.

  “I’d like to say that I know how you feel,” Hunter said softly. “But I don’t. As much pain as I feel over her loss, I just can’t fathom what you’re going through right now. I’m here for you though. Whatever you need from me, it’s yours. Just give the word.”

  Cal rolled over onto his shoulder, turning his back to his friend. The offer seemed somehow hollow to him, though he wished he could feel anything in that moment.

  Gov. Darius Owens

  15 June, 6 yal, 05:02