Debbie was the camp medic and the only one of the bunch who had a significant amount of medical training. And although she wasn’t a psychiatrist by training, she had become the unofficial shrink for the group since the early days. Back then many of them had trouble dealing with survivors’ guilt. They had survived the meteorite’s devastating collision with the earth, and were living in relative comfort, while nearly all of their friends and acquaintances were suffering miserable deaths outside the mine.
Debbie had helped them through all that. Not by claiming to be an expert in unfounded guilt or grieving, but simply by being willing to be their sounding board. To help them cry, to be there for them to lash out at, to talk to. To commiserate with. For Debbie was in the same boat as they were.
Along the way everyone had accepted that she knew at least as much about the human mind and how it worked as any so-called “professional” they’d known.
So here, now, they looked to her for guidance.
She didn’t preach to them. She didn’t belittle them or discount their points of view.
Instead, she spoke logically and with compassion.
“Look, girls. Either of you might be able to help her come around. She loved both of you and was comfortable with you. Right now it might do her a world of good to see a friendly face that wasn’t a man. And your mere presence… the way you smell, the way you hold her, maybe your face itself, could possibly trigger the memories that are floating around in the deep recesses of her mind…”
Hannah knew what was coming.
“But…”
“But… It’s a two hour trip there. If they hold her there to await your arrival, and if your presence doesn’t do anything to help her, then we’ve wasted two hours. In that same period of time they can bring her here. And once she’s here we have a variety of treatment options. We can walk her around the compound to see if that triggers anything. We can let her lie in her own bed. Look at her face in her own mirror. Let her put on her own clothes. And instead of just seeing just your face, she’ll see all of us.
“In the same amount of time… those same two hours, we can increase our chances of successfully treating her many times over.”
Hannah looked at Sami, who looked at Frank. Frank nodded in agreement. Then Karen. Then Sami. Hannah was the last to hold out, but only briefly.
“But… what if…”
That was all she had left in her. The end of her argument. Debbie made sense, and as much as Hannah wanted to run to help her best friend, she couldn’t think of a single reasonable argument to counter Debbie’s.
“Okay. I give up.”
Karen got back on the radio and said, “Bryan, you still there?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ve discussed it with our resident experts, and we think it’s a bad idea for you to wait for one of the girls. You’ve got control of the situation right now, and you can get her here quickly. Once she’s here we can treat her with kid gloves and love her back to health. We want you to bring her home.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll be leaving here within half an hour or so.”
Frank got on.
“Bryan, what are you going to do with the guy who took her?”
“I don’t know what else to do. If we set him free he’ll do the same thing to some other woman. We’ll bring him with us too and decide what to do with him as a group.”
“Be careful. Let us know when you’re getting close.”
“Ten four.”
-5-
They’d brought both vehicles back. Bryan Too drove the Hummer, David sat in the passenger seat and Bryan sat in the back with his wife.
Perhaps the only concession Sarah gave to Bryan was laying her head on his shoulder.
Bryan had tears in his eyes. Sarah’s were bone dry and stared off into nothingness.
Brad drove the pickup, Martel still hog-tied and gagged and rolling about in the back. It was an excruciating journey for the man, but no one really cared.
Once home, every person in the compound lined the walkway between the gate and the big house to welcome their friend back.
She noticed not a one of them.
Sarah walked in the same manner a zombie would through the gate of the compound. As she was led to her apartment, Bryan at her side and holding her arm, she didn’t look around. Didn’t utter a sound. Didn’t seem to recognize anything.
As they walked past Debbie and Hannah, Hannah smiled and said, “Hiya, Cookie. Welcome home.”
She got no response, which caused Hannah to burst into tears as soon as her friend was out of sight.
“What could cause this?”
Debbie said, “She’s almost certainly in shock. Shock can be caused by stress, and aggravated by an injury. She’s had both recently. Head trauma and a very stressful situation.”
“So what’s your prognosis, Doc?”
“I think she’ll probably recover fully, but it’s really too soon to say. I’ll examine her in a couple of hours. Right now the best thing we can do is to let her have some quiet time with Bryan. See if love does its magic. Sometimes it does.”
Time dragged on until late afternoon, when many of Sarah’s friends started a vigil outside her door.
Bryan finally left the couple’s room and went to the kitchen to fix the two of them a sandwich.
On his way back he reached out to Debbie, and asked her to join them.
“Is she opening up yet?”
“No. No change at all, except that her eyes are tearing up a bit now. I’m wondering if a female presence will make a difference.”
Debbie went to her and more time passed.
Debbie stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
The crowd had grown since she’d gone in. There were now almost a dozen people gathered around to hear whether she’d made any progress.
Many of them were in tears.
They were looking to Debbie for answers. But she had precious few to give them.
“I gave her a sedative, so she’ll sleep comfortably for several hours. Bryan hasn’t slept well in days, so I expect they’ll sleep peacefully together.
“After she wakes up, it’ll begin again. She’ll likely be combative, even violent. Right now she doesn’t like Bryan very much. She doesn’t know him, and considers him the bad guy. Not the animal who brainwashed her.”
Sami asked, “What made her that way? What made her forget all of us? What made her forget who she was? What could possibly do that?”
“I examined the back of her head. She said she fell down the stairs at the farmhouse, but the wound looks to be at least a week old. I think in all likelihood he attacked her in the forest, then carried her through the woods to where his truck was parked or his horse was tied.
“It’s impossible to say for sure whether she suffered a concussion without x-rays or a cat-scan, but I’d bet my life that she did. Probably a bad one. One that can leave blood clots behind. I gave her a blood thinner, just in case, as well as an antibiotic because the back of her head is still swollen. A week after impact the swelling should have gone down but it hasn’t, which probably means an infection.
“Since the swelling on the outside of her skull hasn’t gone down yet, it’s a safe bet her brain is still swollen as well. And that’s what we need to worry about the most. I talked to the surgeons at Wilford Hall to see if they’d be willing to remove part of her skull to relieve whatever pressure is there.
“They said that after this many days that may cause more harm than good. They’re sending a team tomorrow morning to examine her and make that decision.”
Karen seemed especially distressed by the news. She considered Sarah the daughter she never had.
“Oh, my… please tell us… she’ll be okay and her memory will return at some point.”
“I wish I could tell you that, Karen. But at this point we can’t even say for sure she’ll survive. Her brain had to have suffered a lot of damage. She’s still subject to hemorrhage
or stroke, or a blood clot despite the medication. Let’s just pray she survives, and anything more will be gravy. Even if she has to relearn everything she ever knew all over again, we should settle for that and be happy we still have her.”
“How’s Bryan taking the news?”
“I haven’t told him the worst of it yet. He’s in a mild state of shock himself. He said he’d been trying to prepare himself for the possibility she’d be found dead. And he was praying constantly that she’d be found alive and well. He said he never considered there might be a third possibility… that she’d be alive but wounded, and would reject him completely.”
Three doors down the hallway Brad and Bryan Too were furious.
And they were covertly making plans.
“When do you want to head out?”
“Why waste time? The sooner we get it done the better. How about first light?”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll meet you at the gate at sunrise.”
The men had been unsure what to do with Martel, so they’d left him in the back of the truck. He’d been there for hours, since they arrived back at the compound. At one point Brad went out and removed his gag so he could sip some water.
Martel let off with a barrage of profanities that would make even the most hardened Marine drill instructor blush.
Brad replaced the gag and returned to the compound, full water bottle still in hand.
They hadn’t been sure whether to untie him and set him free, or to take him to San Angelo and turn him over to authorities.
Now, it appeared, they’d decided on his fate.
-6-
Bryan awoke and found himself holding Sarah in his arms. He hoped she’d crawled there, out of habit, unaware of doing so in his sleep. He wondered how much longer she’d be sleeping, and wanted to see the look on her face when she woke up with her head on his chest.
He wondered if she’d draw back quickly in horror or disgust.
In any event, he wasn’t likely to find out. She was softly snoring, as she did only when she was in deep sleep.
As much as he wanted to see her face he knew that the sedative Debbie had given her had done its trick. She’d likely be out for several more hours.
And he knew that was for the best. For she truly needed the rest, after all she’d been through. Debbie had told Bryan there was a chance a better-rested Sarah might be able to remember more of the things, more of the people, around her.
He’d pin his hopes on that possibility. It seemed as good as anything to cling to.
He very gently eased himself free from Sarah’s grasp and went to the kitchen to get himself something to drink.
And he came across David and Brad, whispering in a conspiratorial tone.
David seemed to be trying to talk Brad out of something.
“No. Just forget about this and put it to rest. You’ve got yourself and Sami and the baby to worry about now. You just can’t go off half-cocked like you did when you were single. When you didn’t have other people depending on you.”
“What are you guys talking about?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
David was a man with a level head, a dentist with his own practice before Saris 7 collided with the earth. And still a qualified medical professional to the group. He was seldom short with anyone. Especially Bryan, who he considered one of his very best friends. But it was obvious Brad had frustrated him, and that he was no longer in a mood to talk. Or even to sit down for a few minutes and share a cup of coffee with his friends.
As he walked away, Bryan asked Brad, “What’s eating him?”
Brad told him of his and Bryan Too’s plans for dealing with Nathan Martel.
Bryan listened intently. He offered none of the arguments or concerns that David had voiced.
When Brad was finished Bryan said, “Count me in.”
Now it was Brad’s turn to object.
“Shouldn’t you be spending every minute you can with Sarah? I mean, she probably needs you more now than ever.”
“Debbie asked the Air Force to send in a medical evaluation team. They’re going to examine Sarah thoroughly to see if they think she has swelling in her brain. And if they think that surgery might be appropriate.”
“Brain surgery? Holy crap!”
“Yeah. That’s what I said. She said not to panic yet. That they may not find evidence of swelling. And if they do, it’s a fairly common procedure. She said it basically means taking off a piece of skull so that the brain can expand a bit while it heals. That in most cases as the brain heals it shrinks again and they can replace the skull section. She says that allowing it to expand prevents further damage and may help her recover her past.”
“And you don’t want to be here for that?”
“She said it would take them several hours. That I could be there with them during the examination but that I wouldn’t understand any of it. That maybe it would be better to let Sarah have a little bit of space while they were here.”
“Are you sure you want to get involved in this?”
“Brad, that was my wife he hit and then dragged off like an animal. It was my wife he beat and raped. If anyone deserves the right to go along and see that he’s punished for what he did, it’s me.”
“We’re leaving at the crack of dawn. So we can be back before too many people miss us.”
“Where did you put Martel?”
“Hell, Bryan, we never took him out of the truck. He’s been there ever since we got back.”
Bryan whistled.
“Wow. I’m guessing he’s getting pretty uncomfortable.”
“Yes, and I don’t give a shit. And you shouldn’t either. We tried to give him water and he’d have none of it. We would have given him food, but didn’t want to get cursed at again. So yes, he’s been out there for several hours, hobbled in the back of a pickup, unable to move, without food or water. You got any problem with that?”
“No, not really. It just makes me wonder whether we’ve become the same type of animal he is.”
As quickly as the thought found its way into Bryan’s mind, he dismissed it.
“I’m going with you. Sarah will be sleeping for a while anyway, so she’ll never even know I’m gone.”
“Well, like I said, we’re leaving at the crack of dawn. But I’m not going to look for you. If you’re here, we’ll take you with us. If you’re not, then you’ll stay behind and your conscience will be clear.”
“Fair enough.”
Bryan had returned to his room and had started to set his alarm. Then he remembered it might wake up Sarah. She might demand to know where he was going so early in the morning.
No, the alarm was a bad idea.
But Bryan’s body clock had always done a good job of waking him up for important events. He had no doubt it would wake him up for this one.
And it did.
Early the next morning he awoke with a start. Sarah was still out, but was starting to stir a bit. He eased out of bed and quickly dressed. Then he went to meet Bryan Too and Brad at the main gate, just as the first rays of the sun peeked over the high wall.
This promised to be an interesting day for all concerned.
-7-
Many things happened after Saris 7 collided with the earth. The most devastating, of course, was that over ninety percent of the industrialized world perished, either as a result of the freeze, or of the plagues that followed the thaw.
Actually, the United States was lucky in that regard. Third world countries were hit much harder. In some places in the world, humans became extinct, as did most of the wildlife.
Those humans who were strong enough to have survived counted themselves lucky. The smarter among them stopped dwelling on the past and the way things used to be. For those kinds of thoughts merely brought heartache.
Most merely accepted the past as gone forever, never to return, and not worth their time thinking about. Instead, they focused on the task at hand: surviving from day to day in
a newly harsh world.
In the United States, citizens stopped worrying about anything not directly related to putting food on their tables and surviving to see another day.
In a way, Americans had always been that way. In the years leading up to the collision of Saris 7, Americans had stopped watching news for the most part. Had stopped being engaged in the world around them. Had been way too busy walking around with their attention focused on their cell phones and tablets to care one way or the other what earth-shattering events might be unfolding.
Facebook replaced the nightly news, Twitter replaced human physical interaction, and Americans at large relied on Government agencies or the media to force-feed them information they really needed to know.
Like NASA, for example. Before Saris 7 was discovered, most earthlings forgot that space even existed. Most didn’t know the difference between a meteorite and a comet, and couldn’t really have cared less.
If NASA scientists Hannah Jelinovic and Sarah Anna Speer hadn’t sounded the alarm in the media, most citizens of the world would never had known what was coming. Until the skies were covered with a thick mass of dust and the temperatures started to drop.
In the chaos that followed, NASA shut down like virtually every other government agency. Later on, after the thaw, FEMA tried to get the government running again. The Department of Defense was now operational, though in a limited capacity. So was the Federal Housing Agency and the National Security Agency. The FBI was working again, although there were damn few criminals left to pursue.
In the finest display of irony, though, NASA pretty much ceased to exist. FEMA’s efforts to revive it were met with a lackadaisical attitude among the movers and shakers in Congress.
“We won’t have the resources or the inclination to go back to the moon or anywhere else for decades. Maybe longer. Why should we bother bringing NASA back to life?”
A Long Road Back: Final Dawn: Book 8 Page 3
