by Pike, JJ
Alice had an arm around each daughter.
Jim helped Bill out of the van. He didn’t look good. The man was a falling-down mess, one arm bandaged to his chest. As they came closer she realized the arm that was secured to his front was flat. He’d had a field amputation. She needed to see to that right away.
Aggie was talking nonstop, filling her mother in on all that had happened, while throwing looks over her shoulder at Bill. “Midge is awake. Talking. She’s going to be fine. She’ll be so happy you’re home. Paul’s out of surgery. He doesn’t have a spleen, but we’re taking care of that. We’re getting what he needs. He’s going to be fine.”
Alice met Betsy’s gaze and pulled her arms from around her daughters’ waists. “Thank you, my friend. You’ve done an amazing job.” She, like Aggie before her, wrapped her arms around her neighbor and squeezed her tight. “I knew you’d be the right choice. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” said Betsy.
“No. I know,” said Alice, “but we will be soon. We can all go together. We’re heading to the mines.”
She meant it literally. Did Betsy have to be more specific? Of course she did. She was a professional. “If you’d both like to follow me, I can fill you in on Midge and Paul.”
Paul first. His condition was easier to explain, though she still wasn’t going to name the shooter. “He’s had two surgeries; one to remove the bullet, the other to fix a bleed. We had to remove his spleen, but as you both know, that’s not the end of the world, especially for someone as young and strong as Paul.”
Alice and Bill stood in Betsy’s kitchen, which had been converted into a makeshift surgical suite, but remained several feet away from their son. They were road-weary and dust-crusted and knew better than to get too close.
“We’re here, my dearest boy. We’re home.” Alice leaned against her husband, even though the contact made him wince.
At least Betsy could treat that pain. And no, Evelyn, it’s not a stretch to give opioids to someone who’s recently lost their arm.
“Midge is in the spare room. Don’t be alarmed by the helmet. It’s to protect her brain.”
“Her brain?” said Bill.
He hadn’t heard everything Aggie had said to Alice, obviously. This was going to be a hard pill for him to swallow, the baby of the family, with a brain injury.
“If you’d like to follow me?” She led them across the house. It was only a few steps, but it felt like a 10-mile hike. “The hospital where she was treated went into quarantine. There was a substance, we’re not sure what, that put us all in danger. We elected to evacuate her.”
“It’s MELT,” said Alice. “It’s been tampered with in ways no one could have predicted. It’s like a seven-headed hydra. The minute you lop off one head another, more deadly and dangerous than the last, appears in its place.”
“She was caught in the crossfire of a firefight. As was I.” She turned to face Bill. “Your friend Arthur and his family came to rob us. I’m sorry to say he didn’t make it.”
Bill nodded but didn’t comment. His eyes were glued to Midge.
“The bullet grazed her head. The emergency doctors thought it was going to be a ‘nothing’ injury, but she had brain swelling and they had to go in to relieve the pressure. She has a hole in her skull but this too isn’t…” She was going to say “isn’t a death sentence” but caught herself at the last minute. “This isn’t as bad as it sounds. The skull fragment is in place and healing nicely. We had a pediatrician on board…” Gosh, it was all so complicated. They’d have to hear the rest when they made it to the mines.
Bill sank down beside his youngest daughter with Jim’s help. “Midgelette?”
Midge opened her eyes as if she’d been waiting for this minute all along. “Daddy?”
“Sweetheart.” Alice sat in the chair.
Bill balanced himself on the edge of the bed.
“You must call me Margaret. I told you.”
“Hello, Margaret. We missed you.”
“I know you did, but Daddy, did you know, dogs can’t perform MRI’s?”
Bill laughed, which made Midge laugh, which made Alice laugh, then Aggie, and Petra. Jim was in the doorway, grinning like an idiot. Bryony had her hand in his again and was watching the scene with great interest.
“I did know that,” said Bill. “But you know what else?”
“What?” said Midge.
“CATSCAN,” he shouted.
The room erupted into peals and peals of laughter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Bill didn’t know what to do or where to go or who to talk to first. His eldest son was lying on a table in the kitchen. He’d lost his spleen. “Lost” was a bit of a misnomer. He’d been shot and Betsy had removed it. Not quite with a butter knife in the kitchen, but close. He’d had major surgery while lying on a kitchen table. Not many people could say that. Please, please, let him survive. Let them find the antibiotics he needs and let my boy live.
His youngest daughter was clutching his hand. She had a brain injury. Lord, what could you say about that? The kid was chattering a mile a minute, and seemed unaware that her skull had been opened, her brain drained, her life teetering in the balance. She wanted to talk about leopards and Marco Polo and the challenges of the Silk Road. It was like she’d hit the pause button when he left and now they had all this catching up to do.
He was so happy to hear her voice he wanted to sing and dance and laugh and tell jokes, but also not be in pain. He didn’t want any of them to know about that. This moment would never come back. Their homecoming had to be perfect. Or, as perfect as it could be when your house had burned down, your children were injured, your country was under attack, and you were faced with the very real possibility that your wife might start campaigning to send them to Indian Point at any minute. They had this tiny reprieve, he wanted to savor every second.
Aggie stood in the doorway, grinning. She seemed unhurt.
Apparently Betsy, Mimi, and Jim had all sustained injuries, too.
There was a little girl he’d never seen before, glued to Jim’s side.
But the biggest shock of all was that Petra was pregnant.
“You’re sure?” Alice hadn’t reacted one way or the other. At least not in a way Bill could read from where he was sitting.
Petra nodded.
Bill didn’t know what to say. Did you congratulate your teenage daughter if she got pregnant at the end of the world?
Sean hung back. He had to be worried about what they’d say. Bill stood and went to his side.
No, wrong call. He shouldn’t talk to his prospective son-in-law before he’d talked to Petra.
“Are you happy about the pregnancy, darling?”
Petra smiled, lacing her fingers through Sean’s. “I am.”
Bill shot a look at Alice. She still hadn’t made her position clear. But, what the hell. He knew how he felt. She could contradict him if she wanted to. “If you’re happy, we’re happy.”
Petra threw her arms around him, sobbing and thanking him, telling him he was the best dad in the world.
Bill held out his hand and shook Sean’s. “Welcome to the family.”
“We have to move,” said Aggie. “We can celebrate when we get to the mines.”
Bill unwound Petra and joined Aggie in the doorway. “How’s things, Aggmeister?”
“They’d be better if they would all quit malingering and get with the program.”
She hadn’t said anything about his missing arm. None of the kids had. We’re they skirting the issue? Worried about his reaction? Afraid they’d say the wrong thing?
“I left my arm in Manhattan,” he said.
All eyes were on him. He’d thought it would get at least one laugh, but no.
“How do you make a guy with one arm fall out of a tree?” he said.
No answers and no smiles. Tough crowd.
“Wave at him.”
Cricket
s.
“I can singlehandedly slay any dragons that come our way.”
More crickets.
“Sorry you lost your arm, Dad.” Aggie to the rescue. “Does it hurt?”
“Like you wouldn’t even believe,” he said, “but it’s better now that I’m back with you.”
The room returned to its pre-joke bustle. They were getting ready, in their own strange way, to move. There was a stretcher for Midge and a sled for Paul. Jim insisted he was strong enough to be a stretcher bearer. Bill couldn’t argue with that one. He might be singlehandedly responsible for slaying a couple of decent dad jokes, but any two-fisted task was beyond his capabilities.
“How can I help?” He looked to Aggie for instruction.
“Come out into the hall and guard the bags.”
“Seriously? Because I might be armless, but I’m not useless.”
“We’ve lost a lot to thieves. Now we leave nothing unattended.”
There was so much to catch up on. There’d been gun battles and theft. Their cabin had been burned to the ground, but no one had even mentioned that. They’d been gone just over a week and his children were different people. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he sensed more gravitas from both of the girls.
Betsy supervised Jim and Sean as they moved Paul from the table to the sled. He was going to need round the clock care. The other end of the house was abuzz with Alice’s instructions. Midge was already on her stretcher apparently, and ready to start her journey.
“Incoming,” said Aggie, her voice high and tight. She might look like she was in control, but that girl was hella stressed. He needed to help in whatever way he could. She shouldn’t have to shoulder a burden like this on her own. “In the driveway,” she shouted. “A vehicle.”
The family—Petra, Sean, Alice, Betsy, Jim, Mimi, and the little girl no one had introduced him to—gathered behind Aggie. So, he’d been right. They all looked to her. A 15-year-old was the head of the family in their absence.
“What do we do, Agg?” said Petra.
“Stay in here.” Aggie grabbed a rifle and went outside.
“Alice, it’s going to be your people,” said Bill. “It’s your team…”
Alice hurried out after her daughter. “Fran’s on the way. I said she could stay at our cabin before we knew it had been burned down.”
Bill joined the women in the driveway. It wasn’t Fran. It was another stranger on a motorbike.
Aggie hailed her and turned back to her folks. “It’s okay. It’s Hedwig. She’s one of us.”
More and more surprises.
“I found him,” said Hedwig. “I found Dr. Handel. He hadn’t gone far. I trussed him up and left him out by the road. I need someone to come help me get the supplies.”
“You didn’t…?” Aggie gripped Hedwig’s arm.
“No.” Hedwig rolled her eyes. “I didn’t kill him. I was worried Betsy would carve me up if I did. How’s the patient?”
“Paul’s fine. We’re about to move him to the mines.”
“Mines?” said Hedwig.
“I’ll explain later.” Aggie turned to her mother. “Can you take Hedwig back out to the supply van?”
“Um, sure?”
“Our medical supplies are out there. Fredrick Not-Your-Friendly-Pediatrician-After-All Handel stole them.”
Alice turned to Bill. “We’re going to have enough stories to take us through to next month, I think.”
Bill watched Alice and Hedwig take off in their van to find some other van, Maggie-loo and Mouse securely in the back. The two dogs were Alice’s sidekicks now. He had been consigned to the lowliest duty: that of bag watcher. They’d all already adapted to the fact that he was of no use. He wandered back into Jim and Betsy’s house and sat by the bags.
The evacuation carried on around him. As he sank back into the armchair close to the amassing bags, he felt his pain index tick up a notch. He stood. There was a direct correlation between his mood and the amount of pain he could feel. It was edging back into the mid-20’s. He’d need dosing up, soon.
“Let me take a look at that.” Betsy was beside him, bandages in hand. “You’ve been in the wars.”
“As have you, by the sounds of things. Pneumothorax? Really?”
“We manage. We all made it. Bit rough around the edges, but we’re alive. That’s what counts.”
The van was already on its way back. He could hear the crunch of gravel under the tires.
“That was fast,” said Betsy. She had his bandages off. If she was shocked by the black-and-purple mess of a stump she didn’t let it show.
The van was too loud. It was going to be Fran and the K&P team. They were early.
Fran burst through the door. “Where’s Alice?”
“She’ll be right back,” said Bill.
“Your cabin burned down.”
Way to state the obvious.
“And you lost your arm.”
She was hitting her observations out of the park. That wasn’t kind. They’d all been under immense pressure. Fran probably hadn’t had much sleep. And, as Alice said, she hadn’t abandoned the team.
“Where’s the redoubtable Professor?” said Bill.
“At Jo’s house.”
“Oh, good! Jo made it. That is good news.” Betsy hadn’t stopped her task, but she paused for a second at the news of Jo’s return. “Reggie will be beside himself. That dog has been in the doldrums for days. We haven’t been able to coax him over here. Aggie has been feeding him over at Jo’s place. I tell you, if a dog loves you, the world’s your oyster.”
“I’m to take Alice to see Jo and Professor Baxter as soon as I find her,” said Fran.
Great. They were going to suck Alice in. She wouldn’t be able to resist when they were all in one place.
The evacuation didn’t stop because of Fran’s arrival. They moved around her like she was part of the furniture. She’d left the science team over at Jo’s and come down to the Asher property, looking for Alice. She’d wait, she said. She fished around in her pocket and found a small bottle of pills.
“Headache,” she said.
Aggie gave orders and the Everlee team (with Jim and Betsy, they were family now, too) kept at it.
When Jim passed Bill for the third time—the little scrap of a girl still in tow—Bill held out his hand. “What’s her name?”
“This is Bryony,” said Jim. “Say hello to Bill, Bryony.”
Bryony hid behind Jim but said a shy hello.
Good thing all three neighbors had been prepping for years. They could feed the people who were coming to the mines for a couple of months. Please, please, please don’t let Alice tell the team about their bolt hole. The K&P team could stay at Jo’s place and fend for themselves. Just because they’d landed on the Everlee’s doorstep didn’t make them his responsibility.
Fran stood and wandered about the house, sizing up the situation, much as he and Alice had done when they arrive, then rejoined Bill by the bags.
“Are you taking potassium iodide?” said Betsy.
“Started three days ago,” said Fran.
“That’ll be the military for you,” said Betsy. She hadn’t worn a uniform for 50 years or more but she was still proud of the service and counted herself as “one of them.”
Jim and Sean appeared from the kitchen with Paul safely strapped to the sled.
Bill struggled to his feet. It was galling not to be able to carry his own son.
“Where do we stash him?” said Sean. The question was for Aggie, not him.
“By the front door is good. I’m going to hook him up to the horse in a second.”
“The horse?” Bill was agog. “You’re going to drag Paul behind Indigo?”
Aggie nodded.
“Coming through,” said Petra. She and Mimi had Midge on her stretcher. They handed her off to Jim and Sean as soon as they were through the door.
“I’m like the Queen of Sheba, Daddy.” Midge looked really good for a kid
who’d taken a bullet to the skull.
“You’ve always been my queen, Midgelette.”
“Margaret.”
“Sorry. Queen Margaret. I bow before you.”
Midge laughed.
Bill felt marginally less hopeless. He still had dad jokes and his kids. He’d have something to offer them.
“Do you know where you’re going?” said Aggie.
