Alex got up and on very wobbly legs and did so. “Okay. They’re closed.”
“Great. How’s Shadow? She okay?”
Alex looked. “She’s fine. She’s awake and her tail is wagging.”
“Good. She knows you’re there to keep her safe.”
Alex smiled, and wiped his eyes with his free hand. “Right.”
“Right,” his dad sniffled into the phone again. Alex wondered if his dad was also tricking himself; it seemed to be working on both of them. “Right. Did you have lunch yet?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“You know what? That’s okay. I couldn’t tell you what I had for lunch either. Might have been a sandwich.”
“Yeah.” Alex noticed that the room was much darker with the curtains closed. He turned on a lamp before he sat back down.
“I’ll tell you what. Go to the pantry. In the back, there’s a big bag of sour cream and onion chips.”
“Yeah, I know. I found them this morning.”
“Well then, you know exactly where they are. They go real nice with a big can of pop.”
“Yeah.”
Alex could hear noise in the background over the phone. His dad was talking to someone else. “Alex? I have to go. But you stay safe, and take care of Shadow, okay?”
“Yeah. I will.”
“And, if it’s not me at the door, look out the window to see who it is. They will be in ... what will the guy be driving? Okay. Alex—there’ll be a police van, or a fire station truck. Okay? If anyone else comes, just ignore it, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He paused. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. I am too. But, we’ll be all right.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Enjoy your chips.”
“I will.”
“See you soon,” he paused. “I’m coming to get you, Alex”
“Okay.”
KAITLYN
Kaitlyn was freaking out.
She had assumed it was bad outside, but “there’s a big storm coming” bad, not “people are getting really hurt out there” bad. She couldn’t handle seeing blood, which was part of the reason she had dealt so poorly with Patrick Taylor. She knew that now—she had not dealt well with the situation then, anymore than she was now.
She didn’t recognize any of the people who had been brought in, but she could certainly recognize pain—something else she did not handle well.
“Where’s my mom?” she said, looking around in a panic. In the commotion of the paramedics arriving, they had gotten separated. Of course, she thought, looking at faces that earlier that day had seemed so familiar and friendly. Now they were strangers who looked just as panicked as she felt. The one time I need her and she’s gone!
“Mom!” she shouted, though her voice was lost in a cacophony of similar calls. “Joanne!” she tried calling instead, realizing how useless yelling mom had been. Still no response.
“I think I see her,” someone behind her said. “Tall woman, light brown hair, and a green t-shirt?”
She turned and saw a tall man who, Kaitlyn surmised, wore a thin mask of calm over a core of fear. The reason he wore that mask stood beside him, holding his hand: a very small girl—Kaitlyn guessed no more than five or six years old—who, somehow, looked the calmest of anyone else she could see.
“Yes, that’s her. Where?” Kaitlyn asked, spinning around. The crowd, however, towered over her and continued to press in waves. While her mom was nowhere to be seen, she did spot something better: Brittany and Sarah huddled together across the foyer.
She took a step toward her friends. She could always find her mom later. It wouldn’t take that long, after all. The man said he saw her, so—
“I saw you two talking earlier. Could you keep an eye on my daughter, Hannah, please?” the man asked before she got any farther.
Kaitlyn spun around to tell him that she was busy, when she was cut off.
“Great. You stay with Hannah, I’ll cut through the crowd and get your mom.” He quickly crouched and spoke to his daughter. “Okay, Boo—you stay here with—” He turned back to Kaitlyn, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
“Kaitlyn.”
“Great,” the man said, then looked back to Hannah. “You stay right here with Kaitlyn, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” the little girl said, smiling.
Kaitlyn had no idea how this tiny person remained so oblivious to the situation around her. Maybe she’s slow. That’s just what I need.
“Thanks,” the man said as he stood back up.
And, just like that, he was out of sight.
Kaitlyn looked down at the small girl. Hannah smiled. She seemed friendly enough. But still, the need to see her friends was the only thing that veiled her panic. She glanced up and saw that her friends were starting to leave the hallway. “Come on,” she said, taking the younger girl by the hand.
Hannah didn’t move.
“What’s wrong?”
“My daddy wants me to wait right here.”
“Yeah?” Kaitlyn said. “So?”
“So, if we leave, he won’t be able to find us and we’ll get lost.”
Kaitlyn grimaced, looked away from this nuisance, and saw the backs of her friends walking away. She sighed heavily. “Fine. I guess we’re staying here.” She flashed a big, fake smile at Hannah.
“Yup!”
“Great.” Kaitlyn searched the crowd for any sign of her mom or Hannah’s dad. Then an idea occurred to her: this could be her chance. She would prove that she could handle babysitting in a stressful situation—far more stressful than what had happened with Patrick Taylor. She would be the number one sitter in town after she turned this crisis to her advantage!
“Hey,” she said, crouching down to the girl, just like Hannah’s dad had done, “do you have a regular babysitter?”
DAY 1 - THE NIGHT
NICOLE
Burgers and fries ran out quickly, so for a late supper they had what was available in the school—hotdogs, buns, and milk—plus food people brought from home. Nicole had microwaved chicken strips and David had his favourite: boiled hot dogs. People still paced the gym, looked for loved ones or yelled about use of the phones. In classrooms, people sat with their friends and family, ate their food, chatted, and joked as if nothing at all was wrong.
David and Nicole sat at a table set up in what was usually a Grade 2 classroom, surrounded by other kids, some younger, some older. Some had probably been using the room just before the evacuation happened. They talked about the things that kids normally talk about: movies, music, other kids. David and Nicole tried to hear adults talking. They wanted to know what was happening outside, and what would happen in the school.
“No one here knows anything,” Nicole complained after eavesdropping on several conversations. “Everyone is just guessing!”
“Someone must know something,” David said with a shrug, as he pushed around the uneaten end of a hotdog. “They’re keeping us here for some reason. And keeping people in St. Joe’s, probably for the same reason.”
Nicole smirked at her brother, an idea forming. The type of idea that had kept her from being skipped ahead in school. She got up and headed into the hallway, away from the gym toward the far end of the school. The St. Joseph’s end.
The stream of people coming in had almost completely dropped off. Now the only people who arrived came in pairs or small groups with emergency teams. Some were taken to St. Joseph’s, which Nicole had figured out was a makeshift medical centre on the other side of the plastic tunnel. The Colby end was guarded by a hospital orderly who would not let anyone past, even those who were desperate to see loved ones they knew were in St. Joe’s.
At first, Nicole wondered why they weren’t just taken to the city hospital just a few blocks away. She assumed one of two things: volunteers were available and here, so why not put them to g
ood use; or, the much less pleasant thought, that this was overflow from a hospital already at capacity.
Occasionally people were released and sent through the tunnel to the Colby side. They came wrapped in splints, or with fresh stitches, or just bandaged and were sent to the sleeping areas that, earlier that day, had been elementary classrooms.
“I bet if I could get in there,” Nicole said, motioning to the guarded door to St. Joseph’s, “I could find out whatever we wanted to know.”
“Wow,” David said flatly. “You are really going to figure this all out for us, huh? My hero.”
“Shut up, spaz,” Nicole said. “I just know this is another example of people overreacting to something stupid. I bet if we got over there, it’d be just like a regular hospital. People love blowing stuff like this out of proportion, David, because people—”
“People are idiots,” her brother cut her off, repeating what had become her mantra over the past few months. “Yeah, I know. You’re the genius, everyone else is an idiot.”
DAVID
For a moment David thought she was going to say something back—something really mean, like when she tried to tell him, very convincingly, that he was adopted. Or maybe just punch him. He was relieved when she just walked past with a slight shoulder check. David followed with a smile, happy that he had bothered her so much, happy that she seemed to drop the idea of clearly breaking the rules, and happy that it had resulted in minimal damage to himself.
They were almost back to the gym when the front doors burst open with a roar. Paramedics tried cutting through the crowd as they pushed stretchers with injured people in.
“You can’t take these people in here! Go to the other building!” a sergeant yelled.
“Can’t do that!” one of the paramedics shouted back. “Street’s blocked on that end. These people need to get in there now!” They continued pushing the gurneys with their injured passengers through the building toward the tunnel.
People were shouting; so many voices, all at once:
“What happened to them?”
“What is that?”
“They were everywhere!”
“Can you tell me—”
“How many fingers am I—”
“What’s the last thing you—”
“They were everywhere!”
“Can someone get me some blankets?!”
“I need bandages!”
“Can we get another stretcher out here?”
“Out of the way!”
“They were everywhere!”
One panicked woman kept calling out, “They were everywhere.”
David recognized the voice: Aunt Carol! His parents had asked Carol to look after them because she was always so calm, cool, and in control of things. She could handle any situation, let alone two kids like David and Nicole. Now she sounded lost and out of control.
Nicole and David ran toward her voice. Red lights splashed through the lobby from the ambulance outside. Closer to Aunt Carol, David could see straps holding her down. One of her arms flailed and grabbed at anyone within reach. Blood rapidly seeped from a large bandage covering her shoulder, dripping onto the floor and splattering on the clean white blanket that covered her. The drops were momentarily lost in the repetitive red flash of the ambulance light. After each flash, there was more blood.
“They were everywhere! They wouldn’t stop! They attacked us!” Aunt Carol clutched the sleeve of the paramedic, pulling his face to hers. She only let go of him when she saw Nicole and David.
“Kids!” she shouted. “Kids, I’m so sorry! I couldn’t ... they were everywhere!” Her gaze drifted from them to the rest of the room. She had either lost them in the crowd, or could no longer control her focus. Nicole ran to her side and held her strapped-down hand. David stood back and watched; tears streaming from eyes that darted from his aunt’s face, to the blood pouring out of her, to the pained look on Nicole’s face as his aunt unknowingly crushed her fingers.
Then Aunt Carol caught David’s eye, stopped screaming, and said with eerie calm, “They’re coming.”
Someone grabbed him from behind and David could see them doing the same to Nicole, pulling her back as they wheeled Carol to the far Colby exit and into the tunnel to St. Joseph’s. He and Nicole were led to a classroom set up for sleeping on the second floor. His aunt’s screams stayed with him long after, as he tried futilely to go to sleep.
Each time David closed his eyes, he saw the look in his aunt’s eyes as she said, over and over:
They’re coming.
ALEX
Alex woke up to the wail of sirens approaching. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep and was groggy and stiff. His neck clicked when he stretched. It was only when he saw the second empty can of pop that he realized the siren might be the people coming to pick him up. To take him to the safe zone. To his family.
He drew the curtain open just in time to see the ambulance speed by—going much faster than he’d ever seen an ambulance driving before, and all over the road. He was almost glad that the erratic driver wasn’t there to rescue him. Almost.
As he turned, he realized something dreadful.
It was dark.
Where’s Dad? When did I talk to Dad?
He looked at his watch: 11:17. The last time he noticed the time it was just after 3:00.
What if he called and I slept right through it? Who knows what his dad would have thought? That he had gone out again for some stupid reason! He had to call his dad to let him know that he had been sleeping and that everything was okay. He hit re-dial on the phone.
No answer. He realized it was the number that his dad had left for his office. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed the phone book. Quickly he looked up the number for Colby and dialed it. It rang and rang. No answer. He tried again. No answer. He hung up again.
He didn’t call from a regular phone! Probably emergency lines or something.
He went back to the couch and saw that Shadow was lost in sleep. Her foot twitched as it usually did when she dreamed. Not a dog-care in the world. He settled back on the couch next to her and pulled up the blanket his dad had left for him when he thought Alex was sick. It seemed so long ago. He looked at the TV and knew he didn’t want to watch repeated interviews with no one saying anything useful.
After rewinding The Sword in the Stone back to the start, he curled up with Shadow, putting some of the blanket over her. She breathed a happy sigh, which comforted him. He’d keep her safe.
He was asleep again before the opening credits finished rolling.
DAY 2 - THE MORNING
NICOLE
A distant explosion brought the two siblings back to reality. In the upstairs classroom where they’d attempted and failed to get much sleep, the lights flickered, then died. The faltering hum as the power drained was audible. The sun must have risen, since enough light came through the thick closed curtains to allow them to see.
They sat across from each other, too tired and frightened to stand.
“David,” Nicole croaked out, her throat hoarse from sobbing all night, “what do you think is happening out there?”
David simply shrugged, not making eye contact. Not lifting his eyes from some imaginary spot on the floor. Nicole decided to let him be for the moment. Seeing Carol last night had shaken her very badly; she could only imagine how it affected David.
There were a dozen cots, some with people still lying on them—though all but one person was also awake. The unmoving man had a broken leg and arm, and a head wound, all bandaged the evening before. Crumpled sheets, water bottles, shoes, and other temporarily abandoned items littered the room as people made their way downstairs for some news.
Soon only four people were left: David, Nicole, the injured man on the cot, and in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, a young boy. Nicole guessed he was no more than five.
Despite her demeanour toward David, Nicole liked kids—at least to a point. Before they became idiots. David was already too close to t
hat point, but this one seemed to be a few years away from idiocy. Slowly, she crawled over to the boy. He was wide awake, and as she got closer, he tried to hide his face under the blanket.
“Don’t be scared, buddy,” she said, in the calmest voice she had. It came out so scratchy that the kid’s eyes went wide. At least it wasn’t because of her appearance. She already liked him. She cleared her throat with a loud cough. “Sorry about that. I guess I had a frog in my throat. Ribbit ribbit.”
The boy just stared, though Nicole could tell from his breathing that he was calming down.
“My name is Nicole Rudderham. What’s yours?”
The boy said nothing.
“It’s kinda scary outside, isn’t it?”
Still nothing.
“Are your parents here anywhere? Or ... or ...”
His eyes darted to the man on the cot.
“Oh. Is that your ... your dad?”
He slowly nodded his head.
“Was he in an accident?”
The boy just stared.
“Do you go to this school? Are you in school yet?”
The boy gave one slow nod.
“Oh, wow. I used to go to this school, too. Now I go to high school. Him, over there …” She leaned to her left and pointed at David, who was still blanked out, staring at the floor, “… he went here too. Do you know him?”
The boy looked quickly at David, then shook his head, no.
“Oh, well, that’s okay. His name is David. He’s my brother. Not a lot of people know him.” She leaned to the boy, who, despite the fear in his eyes, leaned forward to hear her secret. “I think it’s ‘cause he’s weird.”
The boy smiled.
Nicole smiled back at him. “Yeah, you can’t tell by looking at him, but he’s weird all right.”
“Ry ... an,” said a faint voice behind her. The boy scrambled over to his father’s side. “Ryan,” said the man, “are you ... all right?”
The boy—Ryan—nodded his head.
“Good. That’s ...” gasped the man, resting his shaking hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Is there someone else here?”
Rise of the Mudmen Page 6
