Authors: Pauline Creeden
Mickey clung tighter, as they stepped up to the three in front of the chapel. The two men were in plain clothes, but they stood rod straight and their crew cuts glistened in the light overhead. The speaker’s face was twisted with empathy for the woman who sobbed at his feet. He reached down to help her up, but she hung limp in his hands. “Mrs. Crawford, I’m so sorry. His heart couldn’t hold up under the stress.”
Bloody knees peeked out from beneath the hem of Mrs. Crawford's flowered skirt. Her face contorted into a silent scream, and sobs escaped her in hiccups. She fell into the arms of the man who’d helped her up. He was tall and probably in his mid-thirties, his hair cut so short it stood in spikes on his head. Without a word, he lifted her into his arms and started carrying her away. The thinner black man who’d been standing with him shrugged and asked, “Hey Johnson, where are you going?”
He stopped long enough to call back at his partner but met eyes with Jennie. “I’m taking her to the hospital. They can watch her and take care of her better there. She’s in shock.”
Jennie nodded, and the partner skipped forward to catch up with them. Mickey still clung to her, and when she pulled him away to look at him, she saw he’d been crying again. All of it broke her heart. They were both orphans, and he was so young. He’d done more crying in the past month than she’d ever want him to. His voice shook. “Is Miss Crawford gonna be okay?”
Would her brother always have a heart of gold? She nodded and said, “They’ll take care of her at the hospital. Don’t worry.”
He fell back on her shoulder, and she started up the steps of the chapel. If Hugh had died, too, would they keep their promise and tell her?
“Jennie, wake up. I
’m
hungry.
”
Mickey shook her shoulder, forcing her to crack her eyelids open and let in the light of day.
The cot she laid on gave her a stiff back, and her shoulder ached from the lack of comfortable sleep. It used to be that she needed the room to be completely dark in order to sleep into the late morning, but the brightly lit chapel didn’t have the thick curtains of her bedroom. She had adapted amazingly. It had been late when they finally left Mrs. Crawford in the hospital, assured that the pastor’s wife remained in a sedated rest.
Jennie had spent the rest of the night tossing, turning, and crying for both the Crawfords and her parents. She did her best not to even think about Hugh.
Even though her eyes were open, Mickey still shook her shoulder.
“I’m up. I’m up!”
He giggled and backed up a step while she threw her legs over the edge of the cot.
“What time is it, anyway?”
“The clock says nine, five, five.”
“Ugh. We’re not going to make it in time for eggs. Are you okay with cereal again?”
“Yes, they have Cocoa Poofs. I love them!”
Jennie nodded and pulled herself up, ignoring the aches and pains. She headed for the bathroom. “Give me a minute, and we’ll head for the mess hall.”
When they finally reached the cafeteria, Mickey seemed ready to explode with energy. The mess was sparsely populated with the gentle hum of a few dozen people’s conversations. Jennie saw no one that she knew personally but nodded to several people who greeted her. The faces were familiar since she’d met just about every refugee on base due to the dispensary at the chapel.
Jennie yawned and collected two bowls of cereal. Mickey had found another boy about his age and wanted to sit at the same table with him. “Do you mind if we join you?” Jennie asked the woman who was likely the boy’s mother.
“No problem,” she said with a smile, as the boys sat together chattering away. The woman and child were wide-eyed and grossly underweight. She wore a shirt just this side of being a rag. Jennie had never seen them at the chapel’s dispensary.
“Jennie.” She offered her hand.
“Lenora.” The woman shook her hand limply.
“How long have you been on base?” Jennie asked.
“We just got here last night.”
Jennie nodded and started into her usual spiel about the dispensary and other options the woman had on base to help make her life as easy as possible.
As the children played the hand slapping game Mickey had learned on the bus ride to the base, they stayed and talked for a bit in shallow, polite conversation. Even though Lenora was not more than five years older than Jennie, they didn’t seem to have much in common. It wasn’t as though they would be talking about TV shows or music when the world was falling apart around their shoulders. And at the same time, no one wanted to talk about the events of the past few weeks.
After a half hour, the mess hall had been slowly emptying, and Jennie invited Lenora to come back to the chapel with her to find some clothing for her and Bobby, her son. The cloudless sky let the half-lit sun shine in full effect on the midday, and it made Jennie feel a little normal for a moment. Mickey and Bobby had become fast friends and were even holding hands as they ran ahead of them. Lenora called to them, “Don’t forget to look both ways before crossing the street!”
“We won’t!” Mickey answered. They stopped suddenly and turned their heads four times before venturing to cross.
Jennie’s eyes were focused on the boys, and their antics made her laugh. She smiled when she saw Lenora’s lost look disappear, replaced by a comfortable friendship. When Mickey stopped and turned suddenly to his sister with a look of horror on his face, her heart sank.
“Jennie!” he yelled and ran back to her, arms up in a demand to be lifted into her arms.
“What’s wrong?”
He was already crying and he pointed back behind him to the chapel. Two men stood on the porch step. The sight of them stung her eyes instantly with tears.
They were there to inform her about Hugh.
Her heart was replaced by a painful hollow space in her chest. Mechanically, she placed one foot in front of the other and prepared to face the fate they would hand her.
In a panic, Bobby ran over to his mother and demanded to be held, too. “What’s wrong, Mommy?”
Lenora shushed him and whispered, “I don’t know.”
Through Jennie’s blurred vision, the shadowy forms of the two men turned to her. They came down the steps to approach them. Sobs already shook her body, and she buried her face against Mickey. Her brother had begun to wail.
“Jennie.” She heard his voice, but it didn’t register. Was Brad calling her? She looked around for him and rubbed her eyes. “Jennie, it’s okay.”
The voice came from the direction of the two men, and when her vision was clear, she looked up into Hugh’s brown eyes. His face was a bit red, and he had scratches on his forehead. Half of his hair had been pulled out, and the rest was shaved to a stubble. “Hugh?”
He smiled and nodded.
Mickey turned around in her arms, tears still stuck to his eyelashes. “Mr. Hugh!” he called and wiggled in Jennie’s arms.
She let him down, still staring, and not quite comprehending. Her brother grabbed Hugh’s leg in a bear hug. Jennie choked up again, but this time it was joy that choked her.
“Jennie’s been so worried about you. She says your name in her sleep.”
Jennie felt the blood well in her cheeks.
Hugh smiled at her and said to Mickey, “Really? Because they said that I called her name in mine.”
Jennie swallowed the sob in her throat and ran over. She crashed into him with no remorse and hugged him hard, never wanting to let go.
The pain that filled Hugh’
s
every joint with Jennie’s crushing embrace was nothing compared to the way his heart fluttered. She took his breath away in more ways than one. A brisk breeze blew through the close-cropped crew cut that remained of his patchwork hair. He might as well be bald. The comfort of her embrace chased away the lingering effects of the alien attack.
Mickey squeezed against his thigh, an arm around Hugh, and the other around his sister.
Hugh closed his eyes, drew a slow breath, and savored her scent. This unexpected pleasure lasted for several breaths.
The soldier next to him cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir, but the Colonel is waiting.”
Jennie pulled away and swiped her wet cheeks. Red rimmed her wide eyes, and they darted between the soldier and Hugh. “What’s going on?”
The place on Hugh’s shirt where she’d rested her head was still wet with tears. He smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s not a big deal. Colonel Wesley just wants a full report of the attack and my recovery. It shouldn’t take very long.”
She nodded but wrung her hands. It was like she didn’t know what to do with them. “Will you come back here?”
His grin made his cheeks ache. “I’ll come straight back here.”
She blushed and gave him a shy smile. Mickey still clung to Hugh’s leg. She bent at the waist and gently pulled her brother to her. “We’ll wait for Mr. Hugh, right Mickey?”
The little boy nodded and pulled away, leaving a patch of wetness on Hugh’s pants’ leg as well. “Okay.”
“Great. I’ll try to be back before dinner,” Hugh reassured them and followed the soldier’s lead. The pull to look back at them standing on the church step was unbearable, but he resisted until they were about to turn a corner. When he glanced back, they hadn’t moved.
A magnolia tree stood sentry to an old brownstone complex that looked more like an old house than an office building. Its wax-covered leaves still clung to the branches, but half had begun to brown. The soldier led Hugh to the fourth floor office and escorted him in at the secretary’s nod.
The colonel stood at the window and didn’t turn until the door clicked shut at the soldier’s exit. “Mr. Harris. It’s good we have more evidence to your theory, but you know most scientists do not experiment on themselves.”
Hugh took a seat in a leather chair before the colonel’s desk. “I admit it was not my intention, sir.”
Colonel Wesley smiled and took a seat behind his great oak desk. “I’m sure it wasn’t.” The man’s face grew grave. “Five days ago, a band of Shisa breached our defenses and caused an attack that affected twenty soldiers and four civilians, yourself included. Of those infected, you and six others have recovered. Three are still in isolation; the remainder didn’t make it.”
“That’s unfortunate, sir.”
Wrinkles appeared at the sides of the colonel’s eyes. They might have once been considered laugh lines, but in this case, it was pure stress instead of mirth which caused them. “A great misfortune. But as scientists and soldiers, we must learn all we can about our enemy and destroy them. So, please, tell me what you can about your attack.”
Hugh recounted the story for the colonel. The colonel’s eyes grew narrow when Hugh talked about Jennie’s act of faith as the method for walking through the crowd.
“I’d heard a report from a lab technician which corroborates your story, but I still find it hard to believe.”
“It’s true, sir.”
The colonel rubbed his chin. “You are aware that the pastor died, are you not?”
Hugh’s heart sunk, and he whispered, “Yes, sir.”
“It seems hard for me to believe that a man of the faith could not do what this one young woman accomplished.”
Hugh shrugged. “You’re right, sir, and I cannot explain it.”
The colonel shook his head. “I know for certain that I cannot ask a group of soldiers to have faith and believe in something without proof. I don’t know that we could use this new knowledge to our advantage.”
Of course not. Hugh nodded, but a ping of disappointment pricked his heart.
The colonel’s wooden chair squeaked. “Regardless, I’d like to hear your account of the affliction. Do you have many memories of your time in that state?”
Pain pulsed at the back of Hugh’s head. Although he knew this interview would head in this direction, he wasn’t completely ready to explain. “Yes, sir, I do.” He swallowed before he continued, “I remember almost every aching minute of it. It started like a fire at the attack sites. Like an infection or fever that spread over my whole body. My joints ached and swelled like I had advanced arthritis. But as the time passed, all my outward senses dulled to the point that I could feel almost nothing but the pain. I could hear nothing but my own screams. I think most would rather die than remain in that state.”
If it hadn’t been for Jennie, Hugh feared he would have lost his own will to live. He focused so completely on her and his need to make it back to her that it gave him something other than the pain to occupy that miserable time.
“I see.” The colonel’s chair groaned when he leaned forward and propped his elbows on the desk.
Hugh stared at his Converse sneakers; there was nothing else he could think of that would help the military or even science.
“Do you think it would help to give the afflicted pain medication?”
“Honestly, sir, I believe it would make no difference.”
A frown deepened the wrinkles around Colonel Wesley’s eyes. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”
“Not that I can think of, sir.”
The colonel nodded. “Then you may be excused.”
“Yes, sir.” Hugh rose to his feet just as droplets of rain splattered against the window panes.
The colonel turned back toward the window and offhandedly said, “It has rained a little each day for the full five days you’ve been in isolation. Typical Virginia summer, even if we don’t have the heat.”
The blood drained from Hugh’s face. He gripped the edge of the desk and leaned forward. “Sir! Have the Shisa attacked again?”
The colonel narrowed his eyes. “No, they haven’t.”
“Has anyone even seen them?”
“None of the bases here on the peninsula have been attacked, although all three had reports of Shisa on their compounds the same day as our attack. Why?”
“I think I may know one of the aliens’ weaknesses. It’s so simple.”
“Out with it, Harris. If you know of a way to keep our men safe, don’t keep it to yourself.”
Hugh swallowed hard. What if he was wrong? “I think it’s the water, sir. We know the Shisa avoid the rivers and bodies of water, but whenever it rains, they seem to run for cover. If I’m right, then it’s the reason we haven’t experienced another attack.”
The colonel blinked. “Water?”
Hugh nodded. “Scientifically, it makes sense. The aliens attacked our water supply—it might be possible that the contaminant they added was not meant to poison us but to make the water useful for them. They attacked our sun, which in turn would interrupt the evaporation cycle on earth, making it rain less often.”
“You wouldn’t be able to tell that around here lately.”
“No, sir, you’re right, but in the long run, it would be true. Check with your scientists.”
The colonel rose to his feet. “Do you think the water could destroy them?”
Hugh shook his head. “I don’t know, but it might at least keep them away from the bases and allow us to have true safe zones from the Shisa.”
“That would at least be something.” The colonel stuck out his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Harris; your observations have been very helpful. If you were a military man, I’d have to look into upping your rank.”
Hugh smiled and accepted the man’s hand in a firm shake. “I’ll take that as a compliment, but really, I’m just happy to be here…to be alive.”
The colonel smiled. “I bet you are.”
Hugh found walking up and
down the few porch steps around the base was the most agonizing torture for his aching joints and muscles. How long would it take for him to recover? His weak muscles complained when he approached the church steps. With a deep breath, he readied himself to make the climb when Jennie and Mickey rushed through the propped open door of the church. He winced and braced himself for the tackle, but Jennie had stopped her brother on the bottom step.
“What’s wrong?” Her grey-green eyes were clouded with worry.
Hugh shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m just not fully recovered yet.”
“So you’re in pain?” Her voice cracked.
“Not much,” he lied.
She tilted her head and studied him. Then, she pushed herself under his shoulder like a crutch. “Let’s get you inside. We’ll put you on the couch in the rectory. I’ll go get us all something to eat, and we’ll just let you recover here. I think you’ve walked around enough today.”
Hugh smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder while he gripped the railing with his other hand. The need to take care of her had kept him going when he was infected, but now, she was taking care of him. He breathed in the aroma of her hair as they reached the top step.
Somehow, he hadn’t noticed the pain of climbing the stairs.