October Falling: Baqash Origins

by C.E. Wilson

  “I said shut up!” The pistol shook in his hands, and he looked like he really didn’t want to hurt anyone.

  “Hello, friend.” Terry saw David walk up behind the man. “If you need help, we can help you.”

  It all happened too fast. The man spun around, Peter picked up the pipe and brained him with it. He fell like a sack of potatoes. David walked up to the man and put his fingers to his neck. David looked at Peter. “That really wasn’t necessary. I was going to talk him down.”

  “It doesn’t matter now.” Peter spoke flatly. “One day they’ll come after us and won’t feel remorse for what they did.”

  “That time isn’t for a while, yet.” David began to rebuke Peter and then he fell silent. “I cannot change your path, all I can do is assist you along it.”

  Peter nodded. Terry didn’t understand any of it so she just kept quiet. Honestly, she thought the jerk deserved to get hit up the side of the head with a pipe, or even worse. Then she felt the shakes come. Tears welled up out of nowhere. She was usually tougher than this. Terry ran off across to another pile of debris and sat down. She got out a bottle of water and drank some of it. She couldn’t allow her emotions to get the best of her. Didn’t Mom teach me to be tough as nails? Yet, she could feel herself breaking.

  * * *

  Peter and David found a hidden area in a cleft of some debris that looked stable and placed the guy in there. David left a couple of bottles of water with him and a few snack bars. Peter took the pistol and put it in his waistband. The extra shells that he found on the guy he put into his pockets.

  An hour later, Terry wanted to check her phone to see what time it was. She started to feel twitchy, like she needed to play a game on her phone. She couldn’t explain it. Having her phone out and playing on it calmed her. It distracted her from the world around her and allowed her to close off the world emotionally. But, she couldn’t find the words to explain that, she just felt it.

  Off in the distance, she heard a faint crying. She hobbled in the direction as quickly as she could. Terry had been following behind David and Peter, lost in her own world. A moment later she heard Peter call out to her. She looked up at them. They were about half a block away. “I think I heard someone over here.”

  Peter and David came over to her and they followed her. She went forward, stopped to listen. She heard the voice a little better now. The voice sounded weak. “Help me.”

  She yelled out. “Say something again!”

  “Help me.”

  She heard the voice better now. It belonged to a woman. She headed off in that direction and saw a hand sticking through the rubble. She began to frantically dig. Peter and David pitched in. After fifteen minutes of concentrated effort, they released the woman from her prison. She was thin and gaunt looking. Dried blood was caked to her face and hands. Streaks appeared below her eyes where tears had cleaned away some of the dust.

  David and Peter looked her over, while Terry stood back out of the way. Her thoughts drifted back to the woman the day before. I could have helped her. She wasn’t trapped that bad. Did she die? Did some guy come along and… she forced herself to not complete that thought. This whole world is falling apart.

  Peter handed the woman a bottle of water and spoke. “Contessa, you have a broken leg and a broken arm.” Her two extremities looked bruised, but no bones jutted out of her skin. “They are called stick fractures. We are going to have to get you some better medical care. We don’t have any pain medicine.”

  “I’ll go find something to make a stretcher with.” David walked off.

  “He’s a very resourceful guy.” Peter spoke up as David left.

  “Yeah.” Terry replied. She really wanted to go find her mom. These distractions were slowing her down. She wanted to scream out in anger.

  “Contessa, we’ll be back in a moment. Terry, you have a minute?” Peter stood up.

  “Okay.” She was confused, so she stood to follow.

  A few feet off, Peter whispered to her. “Terry, she needs a woman to talk with her. Could you go say something reassuring or something?”

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m just a barista, not a medic. There’s nothing special about me.” She had learned that a long time ago when her dad fled from the family.

  “Could you just sit by her then?”

  “I suppose I can. But I don’t know her and I’d rather keep to myself and go find Mom.”

  “I understand.” Peter reassured her. “I want to get going, too. I’m concerned about my family and miss them deeply. But I have to trust that they are okay.”

  Terry was perplexed by his comment about trust, but didn’t say anything. She hobbled back to the woman and sat next to her.

  “Hi.” Contessa said.

  “Hi.” Terry replied. She sat there quietly for a few moments.

  After a brief period of silence, Peter sighed, and then began to ask the woman about her family.

  * * *

  David returned a little while later. He had two thick broom handles and a long trench coat in his hands. He put those down and dug some clothing out of his bag and handed them to Terry. “Could you help put these on? She’s going to get cold soon.”

  Terry took the clothing and helped the woman put on another pair of oversized pants, a jacket and a hat. Occasionally, she looked up to watch David and Peter zip up the trench coat and put the two handles down through the leg area and up through the arms. They stood up, picked the contraption up and brought the poles to either side of their bodies. It made for a perfect stretcher.

  They laid it down on a mostly flat area. Peter went over to the woman and knelt down beside her. “Contessa, this is going to hurt. I’m going to be as gentle as I can.”

  She nodded. Peter picked her up in his arms and cradled her to his chest. She leaned her head into him. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome dear lady. Knight in shining armor at your service.” He smiled.

  Terry could see her smile too. She didn’t believe in the whole “knight in shining armor” stuff. She was told that princesses were a lie…princes too.

  Peter set her down carefully onto the make-shift stretcher. “You didn’t happen to notice a First Aid shelter while you were wandering around did you?” He looked at David.

  “No, I didn’t see one. I ran into a guy that told me that there is one about a mile in that direction.” David pointed off into the distance in the same relative direction they were headed.

  Good. I want to be going again. I have to find my mom. Terry began walking in that direction. She turned back a moment later and saw David and Peter pick up the stretcher and carry the woman.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, she looked back and saw that David, Peter, and Contessa were about a block behind. She grew angry. They are slowing me down. Then, she looked around and felt ill at ease. An assailant could be lurking around any rubble pile or building corner. Fear gripped her. She stopped dead in her tracks and waited for them to catch up.

  Chapter 5

  As they continued on their journey, Terry began to see more people milling around. Very few of them looked organized. Most wandered around aimlessly and bewildered. All of them had a layer of silt on them. “What is this dust on us?” There seemed to be a permanent dust floating in the stagnant air.

  “Concrete dust.” David said. “And other things.”

  “’Other things’?” Terry asked.

  Peter spoke up, his tone dire. “Volcanic ash, anything that might float into the sky because of fires and cremation.”

  “Cremation, as in people?” Terry almost panicked.

  “Could be…people.” Peter solemnly spoke.

  She instantly wanted a bath. Terry felt like she might get sick right there. She could have the cremated remains of people stuck to her! She swore.

  “Yes.” David said. “How about we take a moment to rest?”

  David and Peter set Contessa down carefully. She’d fallen asleep while they
carried her and remained so after she was set down. “Probably the best she’s slept in 24 hours.” Peter looked at her for a moment and then Terry. “Don’t think about it.”

  “I can’t help it. I could have dead people stuck to me!” She sat down and started rubbing at her face. She took her hair out of the ponytail and scrubbed at it, trying to get all of the dust out. She wished she had a hat. “Are we breathing dead people?”

  “Could be.” David said again.

  “I thought you said you were going to find me a dust mask!”

  “I said I would try to find you something shortly. I’ve yet to find anything.” David sounded apologetic.

  That didn’t matter though. “What, you can find everything else for her and him but you can’t find a dust mask for me?!” Terry was beside herself. How could he let her be treated this way! The world had caved in, her world had caved in, and nobody cared about her!

  “Slow down, Terry.” David tried to use a calming voice.

  “Don’t ‘slow’ me you…” Terry swore at him. David sat there and listened to her vent. He didn’t respond with any words, he just listened. And right about the time she was really going to let him have it, a sad look came upon his face.

  “What? Aren’t you man enough to take some criticism?” She stood up and took a step away from him. “Can’t handle it? Go back to wherever you came from!”

  Terry stormed off. She’d let him get to her. The whole world got to her. She needed to do something. She wandered away about one half of a block and stood there and fumed. After a few moments, she forced herself to calm down. She focused on the enemy – anger. She embraced it, it powered her and got her through. Anger was her shield. She’d let it out to play, but she needed to hold it in – to steady herself.

  She looked over at the pathetic group: David, Peter, and Contessa. How’d she ever deserve such a rotten group? Oh, it didn’t matter. She needed to use them to get to her mom. She slowly walked over to them and calmed down with every step along the way.

  “Better?” Peter asked gently.

  “Yeah.” She flopped down on a broken board.

  David looked at her with a blank expression and didn’t say anything. Contessa looked like she was still asleep. Lucky.

  * * *

  An hour later, Terry was exhausted from picking her way through the toppled buildings. She started down another pile and off in the distance she saw a red and white flag. There were several canopies of varying shapes and sizes set up. The wind picked up from the dead calm and she felt a breeze against her face. With it carried a smell she’d never come across. She stopped.

  Peter and David came up over the rise with Contessa still on the stretcher. Peter spoke up with a somber tone, “The smell of death.”

  “It’s only going to get worse.” David said.

  How could that smell get worse? Terry started down the rubble, picking her way carefully. When it became unbearable she bent over and retched.

  Peter came up behind her. “You going to be okay?”

  She stumbled off a couple of steps and took her backpack off to get at a bottle of water. She rinsed her mouth out and replied, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Terry certainly didn’t feel fine. She felt terrible and she would have loved to have shown it. But, she didn’t want to let her guard down. She stood back up and began walking again.

  A little while later they arrived at the outermost canopy. The smell permeated everything. There were people scurrying everywhere. Others remained at the sides of loved one. It all looked like chaos. “Where do we sign up?” Terry asked.

  “There isn’t a sign up, I believe.” David said. “Let’s set her down.”

  Terry couldn’t see anywhere to put her. Some people were being placed out in the daylight off to the side. Only a few people remained with them. Most of the time a person would be carried there by a makeshift stretcher or dragged under their armpits and then laid there, out in the open. Terry pointed in that direction.

  “Those are the dead or dying. They haven’t much time left.” Peter sighed. “Humanity has chosen this destiny.”

  “Yes.” David replied. “There’s still time, but not much.”

  A woman walked over to them. She had blood on her hands and smeared on her face. “Is she still alive?”

  “Yes.” Peter spoke up. Terry just watched.

  “Okay, let’s take her over to the blue canopy. That’s check-in.” The woman walked out from under the canopies into the open and began to lead them. “I’m sorry, we haven’t had a chance to set up a ‘Check-in’ sign.”

  Terry followed her closely. The woman smelled of sweat, urine, vomit and death. How can she stand herself?

  “My name is Melissa. I’m a nurse. We aren’t officially with the Red Cross. Doctor Tella set up a canopy over there and started surgery. All of us started bringing what we have and set up shop. Do you know when the Red Cross will get here?”

  “Not for some time, I’d imagine.” Peter spoke as he carried Contessa with David. “This was a world-wide earthquake.”

  Melissa stopped and stared at him. “World-wide? How’d you know?”

  “Old fashioned radio.” David told her.

  Melissa shook her head and led them straight to the blue canopy. It was 14 feet by 14 feet. They found a spot to set Contessa down next to some other people waiting to go to surgery. “I don’t know how long the wait is. We’re working with people based on the severity and survivability of their wounds. What’s her name?”

  David and Melissa spoke about Contessa and her injuries.

  * * *

  Terry really wanted to get going. She had to find her mom…and now. Moreover, she had to get away from these canopies. She hated hospitals, but at least they smelled sterile. She had moved off, up-wind of the First Aid encampment.

  Peter followed her and was trying to chat her up. She just sat there quietly. After fifteen minutes, David approached. “Peter, Terry. I’ll be staying here. They need my help.” He handed them some goods from his backpack.

  Peter stuck out his hand and they shook. “Good luck, my friend. Thank you for all of your help.”

  Terry looked at David, she was unsure how to respond, and she shook his hand as well. “David.” Deep down she knew she’d miss him, but she didn’t know how to express it.

  David walked off with a wave and disappeared into the flow of people.

  “How many do you think are under there?” Terry asked.

  “Maybe a thousand still alive. When word gets out, this number of living people here will double. And so will the dying.” He looked at her with a sad expression. “All of this could have been prevented.”

  Prevented, how? She thought it, but didn’t ask. “Ready to go?”

  “Sure. Which way?”

  Terry dug her phone out of her pocket, turned it on and found their heading. She pointed in the general direction.

  “Very well.” Peter took lead and she followed behind.

  Chapter 6

  “How many miles do you have to your mom’s house?” Peter had long given up on trying to make small talk, which was just fine with her. But she was wondering that herself. She stopped and found a spot to sit down. It’d taken them most of the day to get out of the city and into the suburbs. They could walk faster since there weren’t piles of rubble to climb over; but there were plenty of broken houses, trees, and telephone poles down.

  She dug the phone out of her pocket and turned it on. She noticed that she’d left it powered up from before and that the GPS had run the whole time. She swore.

  “What?”

  “Nevermind.”

  “What?” Peter was a little less insistent and more caring.

  “I left the GPS going. My phone is down to thirty percent.”

  “Oh no.” Peter said.

  She put the phone away into her pocket after she made sure she had shut it off.

  “How much farther?”

  “Five miles.”

  “At thi
s speed, that might take two to three hours.” Peter looked around. “Looks like the sun will set in about an hour. I have to break off from you in four miles. How about we find somewhere to camp tonight and start fresh in the morning?”

  “I’d rather keep going.”

  Peter pointed at the sky above. It was already dark. She had the flashlight with her. “So.”

  “Who knows what kind of creeps are going to roam tonight?” He looked around. “Better for us to stick together tonight and then go separate ways in the morning.”

  The incident with the gunman earlier came to mind. “Yeah.” She looked around.

  “Let’s walk one more mile and then we’ll find somewhere to stay. How are you doing on food and water?”

  Terry stood up and started walking. “I think I’ll be fine.”

  “What if your mom doesn’t have any extra?”

  She thought for a moment. “Good point. In one mile we’ll find shelter and maybe check one of these barely-standing houses for supplies.”

  “You want to take lead?” Peter motioned for ladies to go first.

  “No, I’m okay with following.”

  * * *

  An hour later, they had found an old brick house that still stood in mostly decent condition. Peter knocked on the front door, there was no answer. They checked the backdoor, locked. Peter noticed the windows to the basement. “I’ll go in through there and let you in.”

  Before she could respond he was prying on a basement window. After some work it squeaked and opened. He was able to flip it up and squeeze himself into the building. “Ow!” He yelled. A moment later he yelled again. “I’m okay!”

  Terry just stood there by the back door and waited. Come on, hurry up. The wind began to blow and the chilly October air bit at her bones.

  He opened the door. “Tada.”

  She ducked below his arm while he held the door.

  “What? No, ‘thanks Peter’?”

  “Nope.” She turned on her flashlight and looked around. It was an old house, but was recently occupied. “I wonder if the owner is still alive.”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t have time to check every room.”