Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (14 page)

John pulled up his thin white mask and made his way to the only vehicle that sat between him and the hospital. He passed around the front of the vehicle and approached the driver’s side. John wrapped on the window with his knuckle and waited for the driver to respond. The window dropped three inches and stopped. A male voice barked rudely from the car’s interior, “What do you want?”

John leaned close to the window, and in his most patient and respectful voice he asked the man, “Sir, I need to get to the emergency room because I’ve got a gunshot victim in the back of my car. Can you, please move your car for me?”

The man countered with a terse, “Screw you!” and rolled up his window.

John calmly removed the combat knife from his vest, and with the heel of the hardened handle, he struck the lower right corner of the window. It shattered into a million small particles of glass and fell inward, onto the man’s lap. John re-sheathed his knife and rested his hand on his pistol. “If you don’t move your car, sir, I’ll move it for you.” The driver, clearly shocked and surprised by John’s response, replied with a string of vulgar expletives. “Shut your mouth,” said John, as his volume increased. “You have exactly two seconds to move your car, or I’ll drag you out and move it myself.”

“Easy, easy. OK, I’ll move it. I’ll move it. No reason to get angry!”

John ignored the man’s ignorant comments and counted to two, actually hoping for an opportunity to knock some sense into him. But the car pulled forward and to the side, just far enough to allow John to pass through. He immediately stepped in front of the trailing car and held up his hand, but it wasn’t necessary. The couple in the car saw John’s exchange with the driver, and they weren’t interested in provoking him, so they remained where they were. The driver signed that he understood and John waved his thanks before jogging back to the Suburban. He quickly jumped in and drove the truck through the gap he so daringly made for a woman he didn’t even know, but who needed his help.

“Did you see what I had to do to get that jerk to move his car?” asked John.

“Yeah, but I won’t tell mom.” said Adam.

“Tell her what you want,” replied John, a little testily. “Look, I would have elevated it to the next level if he didn’t move his car. My behavior was justified, Adam. We’re trying to save Beth’s life.” He took a deep breath while he drove along the hospital exit road, looking for a good approach to the emergency room. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” said John. “But you have to understand that things have changed. If you choose not to tell mom, I would greatly appreciate it. She already
worries too much about me. But I’m not asking you to keep a secret. You’re gonna see a lot of strange things before this is over, and most of them will probably come from me,” finished John.

Every vehicle entrance was packed with cars, so once again, John jumped the curb and drove across the field that was once the hospital’s beautifully landscaped front lawn. He spotted the emergency room area and headed straight for it, only to slow again when he saw that it was also clogged with people and vehicles. John parked on the helipad, which was clearly identifiable by the gray windsock that hung limply in the heavy air, and killed the Suburban’s headlights. “I’ll take her in, but I’m leaving my vest and pistol in the truck, so keep it safe. And remember, my .38’s in the glove box, but I want you to stay with the truck at all times, no matter what. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, dad.”

“Good. You can stand outside if you want, but don’t let anyone move you, or this truck. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Can I carry your gun?”

“Yes, but it’s hot, ready to fire, so be careful. Don’t do anything foolish, Adam,” said John, as he opened the truck’s door and removed his vest. He laid it on the seat and removed his pistol belt and helmet. He drew the pistol and handed it to Adam. “Nothing stupid, OK?” he reiterated.

“I’ll be alert and careful dad. I won’t do anything stupid. But you be careful too.”

“Thanks Adam, I’m glad you’re with me,” said John, as he closed the driver’s side door and opened the back passenger door to retrieve Beth. He reached in and pulled her from the car seat, and then carefully lifted her onto his shoulder. With his foot, he shut the passenger door and began to plow through the ash toward the emergency room. He didn’t like carrying her like this, but the distance and conditions demanded it. It was tough enough to plow through the ash, with Beth’s added weight it made the walk downright challenging. He was glad he kept himself in shape.

He passed between several stationary cars and yelled for people to move out of his way. His tone of voice must have been enough to command their attention and obedience, for when they turned and saw him coming they made way. When he cleared the crowd, John saw a uniformed police officer standing at the emergency room doors. The officer was angrily shouting at the people around him to stand back. Energized by the sight of the uniformed officer, John pushed through the crowd of people by shouting, “Emergency! Coming through! Make way!”

A young, dark haired nurse, dressed in pale-blue scrubs, stood next to the police officer. She was more than a foot shorter than the officer, which was why John didn’t see her until he reached the emergency room doors. She was busy sliding her finger over the surface of an iPad. John knew she was conducting some kind of patient triage for the throng of people who were pressing her to enter the hospital. From John’s perspective, he saw no one in the crowd that needed emergency medical treatment. He was certain there would be pandemonium if the cop weren’t standing at the door. John stopped in front of the pair. Winded from his burden, and from yelling to make way, he managed a gasping report. “I’ve got a forty something female, single gunshot wound to the back. Pulse weak. Can you help?”

“Is it your wife?” asked the officer.

“No. She’s not my wife. She’s a friend. I have her driver’s license in my pocket,” answered John, breathing heavily from the exertion.

The nurse reached up to check her pulse and said, “Lay her down for a moment.”

“Here?” asked John, surprised.

“Yes, please. We’re very busy right now.” she looked at John and added, “It’ll be OK. I can’t check her pulse when she’s over your shoulder like that.”

John laid her on the concrete, but he kept his hand under her head. The officer pushed back a few curious onlookers as the nurse worked to find a pulse. After several attempts, she took a small pen-light from
her pocket and examined Beth’s eyes for a pupillary response. Lastly, she held an ear to Beth’s mouth and, while resting her hand on Beth’s chest, tried to feel for any sign of life. The nurse listened, much longer than was necessary, but John really appreciated her efforts. He already knew Beth was dead, so he stood and helped the nurse to her feet. “It’s OK,” said John, “I know you did what you could for her. Can you still take care of her . . . her body?” asked John.

“Give me her identification,” said the nurse. John handed her Beth’s ID. She looked at it and looked at Beth’s face. “OK, wait here while I have a doctor establish time of death.” John watched the nurse walk through the ER lobby and disappear behind automatic doors. John also noticed the two unarmed security guards in the emergency room. They nodded as the nurse passed.

John caught the cop studying him and asked, “Do you want to take a statement?”

“What? Are you kidding me?” he answered, curtly. “I know you see what’s going on around you. Do you honestly think I have time to take a statement . . . when I’m stuck here guarding this hospital?” The cop looked around with a disgusted expression and said, “I should be out on the streets . . . doing my job.”

“Yeah, guard duty sucks,” replied John.

“You military?” asked the officer.

“Retired,” said John.

“Me too, just last year. Army or marines?” asked the cop.

“Army,” replied John. “You?”

“Army. I was an MP.”

“I was a grunt,” replied John. He offered his hand and the two men shook. It was more a hand shake in recognition of their mutual sacrifice in armed service, than of a generally polite hand greeting. The nurse reappeared and handed a paper to John. “Take this form, and Beth’s body, and give it to the guard at the loading dock,” said the nurse.

“Where’s the loading dock?” asked John.

The nurse pointed to the east and said, “It’s just around the corner, on the side of the hospital . . . over that way.” She helped lift Beth’s body onto his shoulder and John thanked her.

The police officer cleared a path for John by yelling, “Make a hole, people! Get out of the way!” John turned to thank him and headed off, along the side of the hospital, in search of the loading dock. He glanced at the Suburban, but the lights under the emergency room entrance were too bright and washed out his night vision. All he saw was a veil of darkness. He hoped Adam saw that he was carrying Beth away, and that he would continue to wait patiently for him at the truck. Adam had proved himself reliable on many occasions, and he was grateful for his help, but he was also curious and prone to worry.

With the last of his strength, John managed to reach the fenced off area around the hospital loading dock. He spotted the security guard just beyond the fence and yelled, “Can you help me out here?”

“It depends on what kind of help you need,” asked the surly guard.

Really, thought John, I’ve got a dead woman draped over my shoulder and you want to play games with me. “I was told to bring this woman to delivery. She’s dead,” replied John, with all the civility he could muster.

“Do you have any documentation?” asked the guard.

“If, by documentation, you mean this slip of paper from the emergency room nurse, then yes,” said John, as he handed the guard his paper through the fence.

The guard looked at the paper with a flashlight and said, “OK, wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Wait here? Thought John. Is this guy serious? John was just about to sit Beth on the ground when he saw the guard approach with a metal gurney. The man stopped at the guard shack and reached in to unlock the gate. It opened mechanically, rolled a few feet to the left, and ground to a halt. The guard yelled at John from his shack, “Come in and lay the body on the gurney, then you’re free to go.”

John did as he was asked and paused for a moment. He felt a momentary need to say something for the woman, but he wasn’t sure what to say, or even why. He had never before felt emotional about the death of a stranger. “Can I have a second with her?” asked John.

“Sure. Knock yourself out” said the guard. “But hurry, I’m not supposed to leave the gate open.”

John placed a hand over Beth’s forehead and offered a quick prayer for her. It was the Lord’s Prayer, the only thing he could think of under the circumstances, but it made him feel better. He thanked the security guard and made his way back to the Suburban. He found Adam sitting on the hood of the truck. When Adam saw his dad approach, he jumped down and jogged over to him. “Are you OK dad? You look beat. Did they save Corbin’s mom?”

“I am beat. And no, she died while a nurse was examining her. Let’s get out of here,” answered John.

“Back over the lawn and through the traffic?” asked Adam.

“Yup. I think that’s the only way. You want to drive?” he asked playfully, with a nudge of his arm against Adam. It was the only thing he could do to dispel the dark cloud of loss that hung over him.

“No, thanks,” replied Adam, as he climbed into the Suburban. “I had no idea it would be this crazy.”

John nodded and climbed in. He wanted to tell his son that this wasn’t crazy, that crazy was still to come, but he didn’t. John knew that when the ash was gone, and people began to find food and water was in short supply, things would really get crazy. But he didn’t want to scare Adam. He didn’t want his son to lose hope. John almost said, “You don’t give up when things get hard, you just get hard with them,” but he didn’t. Not yet. Not now. John started the Suburban and headed for home. He wondered what the future had in store for him and his family, if more craziness would come knocking at their own front door.

W
hen John was a few miles from the neighborhood, he handed the radio to Adam and asked him to try and raise Jenna again. Adam was able to reach her, and through him John relayed a message that was brief and to the point. Though the transmission was brief, it comforted everyone on both ends. Hearing Jenna’s voice comforted John more than he expected. He hadn’t been gone that long, no longer than any other trip he routinely took from home, but everything was different now, unpredictable and dangerous. Heading into town was no longer a leisurely distraction, for anything could happen. John realized that he was probably feeling more sensitive than usual for having had to deal with Corbin’s dead parents. The thought of leaving his own children in such a desperate condition chilled him deeply. He would never even think about doing such a thing, taking his own life and leaving his family to fend for themselves.

John turned into the neighborhood, but instead of stopping at the house he drove past and continued down the street to Corbin’s. From the time he left with Beth, John’s plan was to return to Corbin’s house and salvage as much as he could for the boy’s benefit. Now that Corbin was his responsibility, John was purposeful in his desire to facilitate Corbin’s survival. Adam looked at his dad with questioning eyes as he drove past their home, and John ignored his son’s curious expression. John was about to say something to Adam, but he decided to use the radio instead, “Cat, this is Dog, over.”