Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (13 page)

After rolling up his coveralls, John returned to the bedroom and lifted Corbin’s mother in his arms. He carried her downstairs and laid her on the living room sofa. But before John covered her with a blanket, he tore off a piece of duct-tape from the strip he kept stuck to his vest, and put it over the woman’s back wound. It wasn’t pretty, but John hoped the tape would make it easier for her to breathe, if her lung wasn’t already collapsed or filled with blood.

While standing in the front door, John watched the Suburban move slowly up the street, headlights barely penetrating the ash churned up by the vehicle’s motion. When it was close enough for Adam to see his signal, John flashed his flashlight at the Suburban’s windshield. John was impressed to see Adam reply with two quick flashes of the Suburban’s headlights. Adam stopped in front of Corbin’s house and parked. John realized he probably wasn’t comfortable pulling into the driveway, so he made his way to the truck and climbed in the passenger seat next to Adam. “Are you OK?” asked John.

“I’m good, dad. How ‘bout you?” asked Adam.

“I’ll explain in a minute,” said John. “Jump in the back so I can back the truck in.” Adam spilled himself over the front seat and landed in the back as John slid into the driver’s seat. John put the Suburban in gear and quickly navigated it down the length of Corbin’s driveway. He backed the truck in as close as he could to the garage and still be able to open the tailgate. “Is this my mask?” asked John, as he lifted one of the thin white N95 respirators from the dash.

“Yes, dad. I didn’t think you wanted to wear that big ugly rubber one all day.”

“Good thinking. Thanks.”

“No problem, dad.”

“Adam, before we go in the house you need to know something,” said John, as he turned in the seat to face his son. “Corbin’s mother was shot in the back.”

“Did Corbin do it?” asked Adam, concerned and surprised.

“No! Now listen. You’ve never seen anything like this before, and if you don’t want to see it now you can stay in the truck and just keep looking forward.”

Adam swallowed and said, “I’ll be OK, dad.”

“Well, that’s not the worst of it. Corbin’s father is also dead. He killed himself.”

The color in Adam’s face drained away, and he turned to look out the window. John continued, “I brought his mother down. She’s
unconscious. I have her laying on the living room sofa. We’re going to take her to the hospital. But Adam . . . I don’t think she’s going to make it. Corbin’s father is upstairs, in the master bedroom. I don’t want you to see him, so don’t go upstairs. Understand?” Adam nodded without looking at John. “Are you sure you’re going to be OK?” John asked his son again.

“I’ll be fine, dad. Does that mean Corbin will be with us for a while?” asked Adam.

“Well, we can’t very well turn him out on the street, now can we?”

“Thanks, dad.”

“What, for not abandoning him?” asked John.

“Yeah, because if something like that happened to me I hope someone would help me like you’re helping Corbin,” replied Adam.

John was deeply touched by Adam’s sentiment and swallowed his emotions. He cleared his throat and said, “First off, that’s not the kind of people we are, we don’t turn our backs on those who need our help. Second, nothing like that is going to happen to us, we’re much better prepared to handle ourselves than most. So let’s not talk of such things. Right now we have work to do. We need to take Corbin’s mom to the hospital, so get the back seat ready and I’ll carry her out.”

John exited the truck and returned to the living room. He lifted the woman from the couch and allowed the blanket to fall to the floor. He didn’t want it to tangle his feet as he carried her out. Adam held the passenger door open for John as he first sat, and then laid the woman on the back seat. He told Adam to strap her in while he returned to the house to get his gear. John grabbed her purse from the coffee table, and the blanket, and with arms loaded, he managed to pull the front door closed. He decided to leave it unlocked, because he had plans to return and collect supplies for Corbin.

As John gently placed the blanket over the woman, Adam said, “She doesn’t look good, dad.”

“I agree,” said John. “She’s on death’s doorstep, but we have to try and help her. So let’s get her to the hospital as fast as we can and hope they can save her.”

Their drive into town on the secondary roads revealed little traffic, but as soon as they reached the built up area on the edge of town, the number of vehicles on the road surprised John. It seemed to him that people were determined to continue their lives despite the harsh environmental conditions that existed around them. He was even surprised to see a few commercial service vehicles on the roads, though he doubted they were operating normally. It was probably employees trying to get home. All but a few storefronts were dark. Those that were lit were either bathed by light from the high-beams of closely parked cars, or they relied on generators. There was also a lot of people walking around, much more than he would have believed if he didn’t see it for himself.

The churned up ash made driving, and especially walking, a very risky venture, yet people dashed out in front of him as he passed. John was forced to hit his brakes several times to avoid hitting a careless pedestrian. Drivers were maneuvering their vehicles along the roadways as if the ash was little more than an illusion. Intersections were particularly problematic. With the power off and the traffic lights out, people were either overly cautious or dangerously reckless; they either hesitated at the intersections for a painfully long period of time, or they barreled through without so much as a moment’s hesitation. The limited visibility made driving so dangerous that John was surprised he didn’t see more accidents. Apparently, luck favored all the fools who were out on the road, including John.

“What hospital are you taking her to?” asked Adam, after several tense minutes of close calls with either vehicles or pedestrians.

John leaned forward in his seat, trying to get as close to the wind shield as he could, desperate to avoid a collision in the nearly impossible
driving conditions. He hated being bothered with questions at a time like this, but he answered Adam anyway, “I’m taking her to the first out-patient clinic I can find, but they’ll probably tell me to take her to the emergency room.” John swerved suddenly to the left and cursed. He barely missed a man walking in the middle of the road with his back to the traffic. “You idiot!” yelled John.

“What’s he doing walking in the middle of the road like that?” asked Adam.

Knowing his son really didn’t expect an answer, John answered anyway, “He’s probably tired of plowing his own trail through the ash, but who knows, he might be crazy. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t get run over,” said John.

“You think that’s what he wants?” asked Adam.

John snorted and said, “Good point.” He approached the last intersection before reaching the frontage road, a route that ran parallel to the interstate. He sat for a moment, looking left and right, trying to see the headlights of vehicles as they approached from all directions. Ash hung heavily in the air, churned up by all the activity around him. John couldn’t see very well, but he was about to press the gas pedal and turn right onto the frontage road when he heard someone yell, “Stop!” The voice was so loud and clear that it actually stunned him. John quickly moved his foot to the brake pedal and stomped it to the floor. Adam rocked forward and quickly raised his hands to the dashboard. He turned to look at John, but John didn’t notice, because, at that very moment, a dump truck barreled through the intersection. It passed right in front of John’s truck, going so fast that it rocked the Suburban in its wake.

“Wow, dad. Did you see that?” said Adam, as the large truck roared by, followed by a flowing stream of ash that was caught up in its wake.

“I did, and I almost pulled out in front of it,” said John, as he considered the close call. “If I turned when I wanted to . . . we’d probably be dead right now. That dump truck would have driven right over us.”

“Why’d you stop?” asked Adam.

“Didn’t you yell, stop?” asked John.

“I didn’t say anything,” replied Adam. “But I’m sure glad you did.”

They sat silently and considered the implications of what had just happened, or actually what had just
not
happened. Adam didn’t know his dad delayed making the turn because he was told to stop, and John wasn’t sure he understood what happened well enough to know, let alone explain it to Adam, so they sat and recovered from the surprise of their close call. They looked at each other, wondering how they managed to avoid the fatal error when a car horn blared behind them. John looked in the rearview mirror and saw several sets of headlights, with blinkers flashing to the right, all stacked up behind him. He looked left once again and completed the turn without incident, but his mind was numb from the close-call.

They drove in silence, not speaking until they approached the strip mall where the out-patient clinic normally operated, but everything was dark. John didn’t even bother slowing down. “Wasn’t that the clinic?” asked Adam, as he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Yes, Adam, that was a clinic, but it’s dark. And if it’s dark, no one will be working there. Our only option is to take her to the hospital. Oh, that reminds me, get me her purse and see if you can find her wallet. I need her ID.”

Adam reached into the back and pulled her purse to the front seat by the long leather strap. “But won’t the power be off at the hospital too?”

“No, all hospitals have generators to keep everything running in the event of a power outage, and the one we’re going to is new. It’s only been open for about a year or two, so it should be well lit. But the bigger concern is whether or not the hospital staff will be working. A lot of people forget doctors and nurses have families too. In a disaster like this, it takes some very dedicated people to keep working,” said John.

Adam found the wallet and opened it. He removed the woman’s driver’s license, and with his flashlight he studied the small plastic card. “Her name is Beth . . . Beth Warner.”

“Here, give me the card,” said John, and he slid it into his shirt pocket, which wasn’t an easy thing to do while driving and wearing a vest. He pulled the radio from his vest to call Jenna. He forgot to call her earlier, but he couldn’t safely do it while he was driving, so he handed the radio to Adam and said, “Try to reach your mom. Tell her we’ll be at the hospital in about ten minutes.”

Occasionally John glanced up at the interstate on his left. He saw parked cars and trucks on the shoulder, and knew staying on the access road was the best way to reach the hospital safely and quickly. But he didn’t think it would remain open for long. It was only a matter of time before people began to spill off the interstate to use the access roads.

Adam tried several times to reach Jenna on the radio, but he was met with silence. He handed the radio back to John without a comment. “Do you think they’re all right?” asked Adam, after several minutes of contemplative silence.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Adam. You’re mom’s a lot tougher than she looks, a lot tougher than you think she is. Did I tell you the story about how she stitched up her own leg once?”

“Yes, dad. Only a thousand times.”

“Well, I’ve never seen a Soldier stitch himself up before, and I’ve been around a lot of wounded Soldiers. I don’t think I could stitch myself up,” said John, and pointed ahead, “Look, over there, the hospital, do you see it?”

“Not really, can you use the wipers again.” John flipped on the wipers for Adam. “Can you spray them off?”

“If I do that we might as well pull over and walk the rest of the way to the hospital because the windshield would be covered in gray slime. Trust me, we’re almost there. Do you remember how to check for a pulse?” asked John.

“I can try,” replied Adam. He released his seat belt and leaned over the front seat to reach into the back. “Where’s the best place to check?”

“Try her neck first.”

Adam moved to a better position and was still. A minute later he moved and paused again. “I can’t feel a pulse.” replied Adam, sounding a little panicked.

“It’s OK, don’t panic. Her life was never in our hands anyway. Let’s just get her to a doctor,” said John, as he tried to calm Adam’s troubled mind. He reached the underpass and turned left, and immediately saw the distant lights that illuminated the expansive exterior of the large area hospital. But when John was about a half mile from the hospital, he was forced to slow and come to a stop. A trail of red brake lights proceeded them by several car lengths. They were so close, but so many cars were trying to approach the hospital that it would take hours to reach the emergency room. They didn’t have minutes, let alone hours to waste, and John was feeling desperate.

He flipped on his four-way flashers and slowly climbed the Suburban over the concrete median to drive down the on-coming lane. Adam didn’t say a word, but John felt his tension. At little more than a fast run, John drove past the cars sitting in the east bound lane. After passing more than forty vehicles, he finally came face to face with a row of stationary headlights, which told him that all the west bound traffic was also tied up with cars trying to reach the hospital. With his way blocked, John pulled into the middle of the intersection, set the brake, and got out of the Suburban. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Adam and closed the driver’s-side door.