The Siege

by Darrell Maloney

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Okay. You’re doing fine. Is he awake?”

  “No. He was a few minutes ago, but then he drifted out again.”

  “Okay. No problem. That’s just his body’s way of helping him fight the wound. Do you have a watch with a second hand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, good. I want you to take his pulse for me. Do you know how to find the artery in his neck?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Okay, I want you to place two fingers on that artery. Not your thumb. Be sure to use your fingers. Once you feel a beat, start timing. Don’t count that beat, but tell me how many more beats you feel in ten seconds, okay?”

  “Okay. Hold on.”

  While she was waiting, Debbie asked the others, “Can we get everybody together for an emergency meeting? To ask if anybody objects to bringing him here?”

  Joe looked around, and nobody seemed to argue the idea.

  Joe picked up the microphone and prepared to speak, until Mark waved his hand across his throat.

  “Don’t make that announcement. We’re bringing their wounded here if they can make it. I’ll take the heat from anybody who doesn’t like it. Too many people have died already.”

  Eva came back on.

  “It beat four times in ten seconds.”

  Debbie frowned.

  “Okay, Eva, now I need for you to count his respirations. I want you to bend over him and put your ear next to his mouth. Count the number of times he exhales in ten seconds.”

  She was back in half a minute.

  “Three times in ten seconds.”

  “Very well. Do you have a way to get him here? Someone who can drive the two of you?”

  “Yes. One of Jesse’s sons said he can drive us.”

  “Very well. Did you say Frank is in and out of consciousness?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He’s awake sometimes and he sleeps sometimes.”

  “Very well. When he’s conscious, is he coherent? Is he able to speak without being confused or unsure of things?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Very well. When he comes to again, I want you to ask him for directions to where we are. Write them down. Tell him to be as specific as he can. Just before you leave, call us back and tell us what type of vehicle you will be in so that we can watch out for you, okay?”

  “Yes ma’am. I’ll do all that.”

  “Now, while you’re waiting to transport him, I want you to do some very specific things. When he is unconscious, keep him on his back with his feet slightly elevated. Keep a blanket on him so he stays warm. Check his wounds periodically to make sure they’re not bleeding again. If they start, apply a bandage directly to the wound and press down firmly on it. Don’t do that unless it starts bleeding, though.

  “Check his pulse and breathing periodically. They will both speed up when he is awake and that’s okay. If they change significantly when he is unconscious, call me back and let me know, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now, then, when he’s awake, I want him to sip water. Not too much. But enough to keep him hydrated. Small sips. When he’s unconscious, if he starts to gag or throw up, roll him over onto his left side. Not the right one. I know that’s a lot to remember. Can you handle all of that?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve been writing it all down.”

  “Very good. Now, when you transport, he needs to lie on something fairly soft. Tell the driver to avoid unnecessary bumps. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Okay. Now tell me about your other wounded people and the nature of their wounds, one at a time.”

  Chapter 59

  It was almost a full hour before the victims were stabilized and ready to transport. Frank hadn’t regained consciousness at all.

  But they couldn’t wait another minute.

  “Just tell your driver to head west on Interstate 10,” John told her. We’ll watch out for their vehicles and motion for them to follow us once they get here.”

  Forty two more minutes ticked by before Bryan and Brad, parked in a black Humvee on the shoulder of the highway, saw an F-150 and a Suburban slowly creeping up the mountain west of Kerrville.

  They waited until the vehicles passed, then drew up alongside.

  Bryan leaned out of the passenger side window and held a handmade sign that said “FOLLOW US EVA.”

  The driver of the F-150 nodded her head, and Brad pulled in front of them.

  By the time the convoy made it into the compound, the situation was dreadful. Frank was now in a coma, induced by loss of blood. Another child, a girl of seven, died enroute from a massive head wound. An old woman the group called Widow Spencer was in great pain, her femur shattered by a hollow point bullet. It was obvious her leg couldn’t be saved. Luckily, someone had thought to put a tourniquet on it and almost certainly saved her life.

  The two patients were taken quickly into the first floor apartment set aside as the big house’s clinic. It was poorly equipped to handle emergency trauma surgery. But it was the best they could do and it was staffed by four people who’d move heaven and earth to save their patients.

  David, the dental surgeon, took the lead on Frank while Debbie got Widow Spencer stabilized and sedated. She loosened the tourniquet momentarily to lessen the chance of clotting, and then reapplied it. Once the old woman was resting more or less comfortably, Debbie patted her hand and said a prayer for her.

  “You hang in there, old girl. It’s not your time to go yet.”

  Then she went to help David, who was exploring both of Frank’s wounds to try to determine the extent of the damage.

  Their helpers, Helen and Sarah, knew next to nothing about medicine. But they could follow orders, and weren’t afraid to get their hands bloody, so they made for passing nurses. At least in an emergency situation.

  “Sarah, did we gather up all the people in the compound with B Positive blood?”

  “Yes. They’re waiting outside in the hallway.”

  “Debbie, would you draw samples and do cross matches on them? I’m guessing at this point that the blood loss is our biggest concern. How’s patient two doing?”

  “She’s sedated and resting comfortably. I’ll keep an eye on her until you’re ready.”

  Debbie stepped into the hallway and took the first of her volunteer blood donors into the small lab they’d set up in the apartment next door.

  As soon as she walked into the hallway, Eva looked at her in anticipation. She wanted more than anything else in the world to hear news that Frank was going to be okay. But she could tell by the look on Debbie’s face that it was still way too soon.

  Eva paced up and down the hall with Hannah, recounting the dreadful battle they’d endured in the wee hours of the morning.

  “They came in a great hoard, like a pack of wolves. I don’t know how many there were. It happened so fast, and it was so dark, and there were so many of them.

  “Jesse’s son, Bobby, told me they shot his father first. Shot him through the head. They shot him like a dog, he said. He said Jesse fell back, and Bobby instantly knew he was dead. Bobby fought back, and shot a couple of them. But they just kept coming and coming.

  “And they came from different directions. While they had Bobby and Frank and Michael pinned down at one end of the street they attacked from the other end as well. They went from house to house, just killing for no reason. They shot the children, and then Bobby’s mom, Jesse’s wife. In cold blood.

  “They tried to shoot me too, but the gun didn’t work. I think God spared me so I could ask your help for Frank.

  “I was a coward. I was hiding in my house when the shooting started. They tell me that Frank and Tony tried to make their way to our end of the street to save us. Tony was killed. Frank was shot, and struck his head on the curb when he went down. I thought he was dead too, but after the shooting stopped Bobby found him unconscious in the street.

  “It was dreadful.”

 
It was a ferocious battle and took a tremendous toll. The day before, the block was full of life. It was joyful and thankful for all they had, and the population numbered seventeen men, women and children.

  Now the six survivors were broken and bloodied. All of their joy was gone, and with it much of their hope for the future.

  Eva turned to Hannah and asked poignantly, “Where are the babies? And how are they?”

  The “babies” were the two surviving children of the attack, Bobby’s young nieces. Five and seven, the girls had lost both parents within a few minutes of each other. They watched their mother draw her last breath in front of them.

  They, perhaps more than any of the others, would suffer the most in the years ahead. They’d never get the vision of their mother’s death out of their minds, no matter how hard they tried.

  They’d never understand why they were spared, when so many of their friends and loved ones were taken.

  And most of all, they’d never understand how some men thought it perfectly okay to kill and maim innocent people, just for the purpose of taking a few animals.

  Hannah held Eva in her arms.

  “Sami and Hannah have them in the lounge,” she said. Rachel and Roxanne are there too. They went through something similar when they were young. They’ll know what the girls are feeling, and will do whatever they can to help them get through it. Would you like to see them?”

  Eva nodded her head, and Hannah led her to the lounge.

  Amy and little Rebecca looked shell shocked, but they recognized Eva and clung to her. Their Uncle Bobby was nowhere in sight, and Eva was the only other face they knew that wasn’t presently on an operating table.

  As for Bobby, he stumbled outside and sat by himself on the front steps of the big house. John and Mark had approached him several times to try to tend to him, but got nowhere.

  Bobby simply offered no response to their offers. He stared off into space, seeing things only he could see, and reliving a dreadful battle that no one should have had to have gone through.

  They were a group who’d been through hell. If he survived, Frank would carry the scars on his body for the rest of his life.

  The widow Spencer had a less serious wound. In better times, at a fully staffed hospital, there would have been no question she’d survive.

  But she was an old woman. She was frail and weak even before she was shot.

  And she was under the care of a dental surgeon who’d never amputated a limb. And he had to do so with out of date antibiotics and anesthesia. The lidocaine and saline bags that dripped fluid into her arm were ancient, and there was no way to tell whether they had been tainted.

  There was only one other person in the compound, Jason Connor, who shared her O Negative blood type, and he might not be a match. Even if he was, David would refuse to take more than one pint from his body.

  And one pint of whole blood almost certainly wouldn’t be enough if there were complications during her surgery.

  Even if the old woman and Frank both survived, there would be other scars, unseen, that would likely be much worse than the visible ones.

  They had survived a massacre, yes. But their ordeal was just beginning.

  Chapter 60

  As far as David could tell, the bullet that tore through Frank’s body managed to miss his major organs. His white blood cell count was relatively normal and there wasn’t any blood mixed with any of his body fluids.

  “He doesn’t show any signs of hemorrhaging,” he told Eva. “It may be that since it was a high speed bullet and put off a lot of heat, it actually cauterized some of the vessels as it passed through his body. Either that, or his dehydration thickened his blood and made it clot like hell.”

  Eva countered, “No. It wasn’t either of those two things. It was God watching out for my Frank. Either for the things he did during the freeze to help others survive, or because he’s destined to do more of God’s work. In any event, he will wake up tomorrow.”

  David smiled.

  “I certainly hope you’re right. But how on earth could you know that for sure?”

  “Because we’ve been married for thirty one years. And because tomorrow is my birthday, and Frank would never let my birthday pass by without wishing me a happy day. You watch. He’ll wake up tomorrow, you’ll see.”

  David turned to Debbie and asked, “Okay, your opinion, doc…”

  “In my opinion, it wouldn’t be prudent to search for repairs to make internally if he’s already hypotensive and shows no signs of hemorrhage. We could restart the bleeding and put him at unnecessary risk. I say let’s zip him up, restrict him to bed for awhile, watch his numbers and hope for the best.”

  “And pray,” Eva added. “Don’t forget to pray.”

  David said, “I concur. With both of you. Help me roll him onto his good side. Debbie, would you rather have the entrance wound or the exit?”

  She examined both bullet wounds carefully and then said, “I’ll take the entrance wound. It’s cleaner, and you’ve had more practice at this than I have.”

  It took more than half an hour to get everything sutured. David inserted two drain tubes and ordered a week of bed rest. He would be administered saline and intravenous vitamin B-15 and B-6 to promote the generation of new blood cells. He’d also be given antibiotics for the same reason and to head off any infection.

  Widow Spencer’s surgery was a lot more involved and a lot more gruesome. They took the leg, mid-thigh. She’d be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. But she was having trouble getting around of late anyway, only going a few steps at a time with the aid of a walker. Eva hoped that she’d make the transition to a wheelchair easily, once she found that it actually gave her added mobility, not less.

  Medically, David and Debbie worried. She’d lost some blood, but it could have been a lot worse if someone hadn’t applied a tourniquet rather quickly.

  Unfortunately, the tourniquet was in place for several hours, without being loosened occasionally.

  David’s primary concern was a blood clot in the hip area, which might break free and make its way to her heart or brain. If it did, it could cause a stroke or death. He prescribed blood thinner and the same course of vitamins that Frank would be getting.

  To ease her psychological shock when she awoke and found her leg gone, he also prescribed something rather unusual. Someone was to sit with her, holding her hand, twenty four seven, until she woke up. He didn’t want her to be alone with her own thoughts before he had a chance to talk to her.

  He needn’t have worried. If he’d known Widow Spencer at all, he’d have known she was one tough old bird.

  “Oh, heck,” she said later. “As soon as I looked down and saw my leg hanging there in pieces I knew I was going to lose it. I was just happy to wake back up again.”

  And sure enough, Frank did indeed wake up the following day. Like Eva predicted, his first words were, “Happy birthday, honey.”

  Then he drifted back to sleep for awhile. He woke up again later, and Eva softly explained to him that his best friend Jesse was dead, along with most of the others on Buena Vista Drive. After all they’d been through, one horrific night had destroyed it all.

  When Frank nodded off the second time, he cried himself to sleep.

  Chapter 61

  The group had a monumental decision to make. From the beginning, they’d decided on a government similar to one used by native American tribes. The group would be called together on occasion to discuss important issues.

  Every man who had something to say would be given the opportunity to do so. Once all the words were spoken, each issue was put to a vote. In the event of a tie, the three man council of elders would make the decision. Children were encouraged to attend, to watch the process, but must remain silent and could not vote.

  There were some modern day modifications to their version of the process, though. In old Indian culture the braves made the decisions. In this group, women were allowed an equal opportunity.


  Also in this group, the council of elders, instead of being the three wisest men in the tribe, was simply the three eldest persons. Regardless of gender.

  This method of government had served them well since the early days in the mine, even before Saris 7 struck the earth and changed things forever.

  Almost everyone gathered in the dining room for the meeting. The children were released from school for a “field trip” to the proceedings.

  There were a few missing, however. Hannah and Sarah hosted a “picnic” in the apple orchard for Eva and Bobby and Bobby’s two little nieces. Joe manned the security console, keeping due vigil on the monitors.

  And Debbie stayed in the clinic, watching over her two patients.

  Each of them had selected a trusted friend to debate their position on their behalf, and then to cast their votes by proxy.

  Hannah and Sarah tried to portray the picnic as nothing but a chance to relax and get to know each other. If Eva and Bobby knew there was a specific reason for it, they didn’t let on.

  So as the six of them sat at a wooden picnic table under the largest of the apple trees and munched on sandwiches, the meeting was called to order in the big house.

  As was the usual procedure, a call would be made for topics of discussion. And a couple of minor grievances might be brought up. But everyone knew there was only one major issue at hand.

  Would the visitors stay or would they go?

  They wouldn’t be sent anywhere, of course, until they’d healed. It just wouldn’t be the right thing to do, to send sick or injured people out to fend for themselves. If they were to be outcast, it would be after they were well again, and they would be given the essential things to survive on their own. Transportation. Weapons. Enough food and supplies to get them settled elsewhere.

  Or, they might be allowed to stay. There had already been precedent for this, when Rachel and Roxanne suffered a similar tragedy and were welcomed into the fold. But precedent didn’t always mean much. Since the camp was invaded, a general pall of mistrust of strangers fell over the group. No one knew how that mistrust would play into the decision they had to make.