Yield (83 page)

An orange glow emerges in the distance. It
’
s flanked on either side by burnt-out buildings. Dark scars cover their brick and metal faces, pulling the structures with them into the abyss.

Jonathon adjusts his glasses, watching the approaching firelight through a split lens. The fractured image somehow looks both welcoming and worrisome.

“
What
’
s that?
”
Dave asks. He squints, trying to focus through the ash-covered windshield.

Neal powers his XDCam up and settles it into its usual home atop his shoulder. The photog switches to telephoto, adjusting focus on the first survivors they
’
ve seen.
“
Looks like some burning cars and transients trying to keep warm,
”
he says. Neal drifts up to the darkened faces standing by the fire. The light silhouettes them in the viewfinder, obscuring all detail except for the shapes of their bodies.

“
Jon?
”
Dave asks, more out of courtesy than respect.

The rising buildings create a long and enclosed gauntlet along the street ahead. The alley mouths between them look like they
’
re blocked with piles of debris. A single row of burning cars in the middle of the road flashes brightly in the dark. Silhouettes standing closest to them look back at the two approaching headlights with growing interest.

“
Keep going. There
’
s room,
”
Jonathon says. He points at the small space to the right of the flaming vehicles.

“
This doesn
’
t feel right,
”
Dave says. His stomach knots as he looks down the narrow spaces on either side of the burning divider. The tapered paths lead up onto the sidewalks, just feet from the broken storefront windows. There
’
s no room to turn, no room to escape if they have to.

“
We have to get through,
”
Jonathon growls.
“
Can you do it or not?
”

“
Yeah, but
…
”

“
Then drive!
”
Jon yells.
“
Jesus.
”

“
Jonathon,
”
Neal says. Doubts suddenly begin to churn inside the photographer, unsure now if the rage-filled man
—
KOMO
’
s only living manager
—
is still capable of leading his people.

“
No!
”
Dave snaps. The young engineer throws the transmission into park, his hands shaking.
“
Just because they died doesn
’
t mean we have to, Jon. Maybe that
’
s what you
’
d like, but I
’
m not going to let you kill us, too.
”
Dave
’
s eyes go wide, wishing he could take the words back even as they lash from his lips.

The broad-shouldered man beside him wrenches over. Their faces scream through his mind. Their accusing eyes stare back at him, unblinking and still.
I killed them all
…

“
Jon, I
…
”
Dave tries to apologize.

“
Guys!
”
Neal yells. The faces by the fire have shifted several feet closer to the light. Their foreign features and military uniforms are haloed in red. Neal
’
s blood freezes.

Dave slams the transmission arm into reverse and guns the engine.

An explosion rips through the abandoned vehicles in his rearview mirror. Fireballs shoot across the ground just feet behind. Red and orange claws rip through the air toward the KOMO news rig, leaping, like enraged dragons, through the black.

A stack of crisply folded sheets falls to the medical station
’
s dirt floor. The fabric billows, recoiling back from some unseen blow. Even before the disinfected white hits the ground, Isabel
’
s body is up on the examination table
’
s cold aluminum surface.

The fireman
’
s arms drop to his side. His heart clenches. Isabel
’
s face is now almost completely absent of color.

Her life is fading right in front of him.

“
Somebody, get me the AED and a ventilating bag!
”
the medic shouts. He pushes Devin away and begins chest compressions.

The soldier
’
s words scream in Devin
’
s mind. They pull him back from the fear that threatens to paralyze him, back from the crippling guilt. His eyes dart around the aid tent, snapping back into the world of first response.

The only other medical personnel inside is a nurse far too young to hold fate in her hands. Devin watches on as she fumbles with the cables of a portable EKG unit.
They
’
re going to kill her
…

“
AED?
”
Devin shouts, rummaging around the storage cabinets closest to him.
“
That
’
s defib, right?
”

“
Yeah,
”
the medic snaps. He shoots Devin a skeptical glance.
“
You trained?
”

“
Fire rescue EMT.
”
Devin looks through several dark rectangular cases before pulling out a laptop-sized device. He sets the defibrillator down onto a rolling cart next to the medic.

The fireman snatches a rubber face mask off a nearby shelf. Gently, he lays the clear plastic mask over Isabel
’
s nose and mouth.
“
Ready,
”
Devin screams, glancing impatiently at the doctor.

“
In time with me,
”
the medic orders.
“
Every third. Got it?
”

“
Got it.
”
Devin squeezes the bag in rhythm with the soldier
’
s steady movements.

“
Where
’
s my EKG?
”
the medic yells.
“
I need both vitals!
”
The doctor pushes on Isabel
’
s cracked ribcage, trying to keep her blood pumping.

His nurse jabs the sensors onto the pregnant patient
’
s chest and stomach.
“
Online now,
”
she says, her words coming out in a frantic rush. She flips on the LCD screen and sets it to dual mode. The nurse hooks the final EKG cables to the back and looks up at the two sets of lines drawing on-screen.

Devin squeezes the ventilat
ing
bag again, relief rushing out of him. Both mother
’
s and baby
’
s beats are spiking on the heart monitor.

The top line on the monitor beeps several more times, much slower and more out of rhythm than the bottom. Suddenly the spikes start to slow.

Sharp peaks are traced by longer flat areas separating the heart
’
s normal activity. Just to the left of the etching black signs of life, a single red warning light begins to flash. The alarm
’
s squeal shoots down Devin
’
s back.

All eyes are pulled to the monitor. Its sound seems to freeze time itself, surrounding them in this
terminal
moment.

The medic immediately stops chest compressions and begins flipping switches on the defibrillator box.

“
Get that bloody thing on!
”
Devin shouts. The fireman pushes again on the ventilator bag. Dread carves his face.

“
Come on!
”
the medic says, hearing the device slowly whir up
as it charges
. He looks back at the motionless mother and the unborn innocence fading inside her.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
………………………

“
Izz!
”
Devin yells. The tone almost buckles his knees.

“
Shit! Where
’
s the atropine?!
”
the medic screams. He drops the defib paddles and begins pushing on Isabel
’
s chest again.

The nurse hands him a syringe filled with a light amber liquid. Her hands are shaking so much she nearly drops it.

Without a moment
’
s pause, the medic slams the needle into Isabel
’
s heart,
driving the critical stimulant deep into her arteries and heart tissue.

“
Jesus!
”
Devin shouts as the four-inch needle disappears into his friend
’
s left breast. Trembling, his hands squeeze the ventilator grip.

A bleep from the EKG sounds beside them, soon followed by several of Isabel
’
s heartbeats close together. The medic compresses her chest, eying the monitor with satisfaction. The heart is beating in normal rhythm again.
“
There we go,
”
he sighs.
“
You can do it.
”

Like a sprinter fading in the final leg of a marathon, the notes at the top of the EKG begin to drift apart and slow.

“
Clear!
”
the medic barks. He snatches the defibrillator paddles.

Beep
……………
..Beep
………………………………
.

All hands pull away as electrical voltage courses through Isabel
’
s arching body. Her eyelids shudder. Pain jumps her brown-speckled eyes awake.

“
Devin,
”
she mumbles, weakly looking around.

“
Hey, love.
”
An exhausted smile spreads across the fireman
’
s face.
“
You had us worried for a second there.
”

“
The baby
…
”
she whispers. Isabel tries to blink away the growing blur in her eyes. The world is soft,
f
rayed at the edges
…

The beeping sound of the EKG chimes in rhythm once more.

*  *  *

Flickering images swirl through Isabel
’
s mind like specks of dust sparkling in the sunlight. She sees herself smiling in a dewy meadow, pushing her beautiful daughter on an old rope swing. Overwhelming happiness pours over her when she sees
the
little girl smile. Dark braids tightly wind into a bun at the back of her daughter
’
s neck, just the way Isabel
’
s mother used to braid hers.

The images drift by, faster and faster. Isabel tries to cling to them, but the fragments slip like sand through her fingers.

She shields her eyes. The setting sun catches in the silver crucifix around her neck. Isabel smiles, seeing herself walking hand in hand with her children along the bank of a river. There
’
s an untempered joy on every face. They run and smile back at her, uncertain why her smile saddens each time their hands part
…

*  *  *

The beat of Isabel
’
s fiercely loving heart slows,
taking with it the future that will never be.

Beep
…
..Beep
……………
.Beep
……………………

“
Baby
…
”
she tries to whisper again. Her eyes drift up to Devin
’
s face.
“
Save the baby
……
”

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
……………………
.