“There aren’t a whole lot of survivors. The last thing we need to do
is start shooting one another.”
Kent looked as though he wanted to smack the little guy, but
he held back.
“Can you please show us where the medical supplies are?” I
asked.
“I can do better than that,” he replied. “This is your lucky day.” He turned and strode out of the office.
The four of us exchanged confused looks.
“I can think of a lot of words to describe this day,” Kent said.
“‘Lucky’ isn’t one of them.”
“Are we supposed to follow that little nerd?” Olivia asked. “Yes, you are!” Jon shouted from the hallway.
“Oops,” Olivia said, then called out, “No offense!” She got no reply.
We left the radio room and followed Jon deeper into the ER.
The light was nearly gone, but that didn’t stop him from walking
quickly.
“Hey!” Kent yelled to him. “Transpo-Boy! You may know every
inch of this place, but we don’t.”
“We’re not going far,” Jon shouted back without stopping. We followed him through a doorway, and I saw a faint light
further ahead. It was enough to recognize that we were in the main
treatment area of the ER. Jon led us down a row of treatment stations that were separated by curtains. Each contained a bed for
patients. None were occupied.
The light grew brighter as we approached it, and I could see
that it was coming from one of the curtained-off sections. “You’ve got power?” I asked.
“We’ve got batteries,” Jon replied. “And lanterns.” He stepped past the illuminated curtain and said, “We have
company.”
Somebody was back there.
“She’s been shot,” Jon added.
The curtain was pulled back to reveal a tall Asian woman with
long, dark hair wearing deep red hospital scrubs.
“Hello,” she said with professional distance. “I’m Doctor Kay
amori. Please call me Luna.”
She was a strikingly pretty woman who looked Japanese but
had no trace of an accent.
“A doctor?” Olivia exclaimed. “Thank god.”
“I told you it was your lucky day,” Jon said, smug. “Who is injured?” Luna asked.
Tori stepped forward.
“The bullet passed clean through just below my shoulder.
There was a lot of blood, but that’s stopped now. I just want to
make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
Luna relaxed and broke out in a big, warm smile. I liked her
instantly.
“I’ll have to take your word that the bullet passed through. It
isn’t like we can x-ray it. I’ll examine you and see what I can do.” She looked to the rest of us and asked, “What are your names?” “Kent.”
“Olivia.”
“Tucker.”
“I’m Tori.”
“When was the last time any of you had something to eat?” she
asked.
We all looked to one another dumbly.
“It’s been a while,” I replied. “Food’s been the last thing on
our minds.”
“Jon, take them to the cafeteria,” Luna commanded. Then to
us she added, “Eat the fresh food first.”
“Do I have to do this?” Jon whined.
“Yes, please,” Luna said firmly. “We are still a hospital, and we
will continue to provide care.”
“Fine,” Jon said, pouty.
He grabbed a small battery-powered lamp and secured the
strap around his head so the light shone from his forehead. The
bright beam hit us in the eyes. He didn’t care.
“Follow me,” he said with no enthusiasm.
He shuffled off, keeping the beam on the floor ahead of him. Geek.
“Maybe one of us should stay,” I said to Tori.
“I’ll be okay,” she replied. “Bring me back something to eat.
I’m suddenly starving.”
“Me too,” Kent said, then called out, “Wait up, Chadwick.” “Chadwick?” Luna asked with confusion.
“Don’t ask,” I said. “He makes up offensive names for everybody.” “Go,” Tori ordered. “I’m fine.”
I didn’t want to leave her with a stranger, but I had the feeling that we were going to have to start doing a lot of things we
wouldn’t normally do. Olivia and I caught up, and we followed the
little guy to the far side of the building.
“Why are you all still alive?” Jon asked with no hint of tact.
“We made it because as soon as I saw trouble, I hid in the basement with Dr. Kayamori. It saved our lives. The only people who
survived were deep underground when the attack happened.” “How did you know to do that?” I asked.
“Because I’m smart,” Jon replied. “What’s
your
story?” “We were on Pemberwick Island,” Kent replied curtly. “Now
we’re not. End of story.”
He didn’t have the energy to relive all the details of what we
had been through, and I didn’t blame him.
Jon stopped short and turned back to face us. The beam from
his headlight burned into our eyes.
“Get that outta my face!” Kent complained.
“You were on Pemberwick?” Jon asked in awe.
“There’s no virus, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I assured
him.
“I’m not,” Jon said. “I never thought there was. It made no
sense. How did you get away?”
“Speedboat,” was my simple answer.
Jon nodded thoughtfully. “That explains a lot.”
“What do you mean?” Kent asked.
Jon turned abruptly and continued to walk.
“About your friend being shot,” he answered quickly. “That
was a hell of a battle out there on the water.”
His reaction to our being from Pemberwick was an odd one,
mostly because he didn’t press us for more information. You’d
think he would have been a little more interested but Jon was
definitely more about Jon than anybody else. He brought us to
the cafeteria without another word and led us into the big, institutional kitchen.
“There are fruit and vegetables in the walk-in cooler. Open and
close the door quickly. We’re trying to keep the cold in for as long
as possible.”
He tossed me a flashlight, and Kent and Tori followed me into
the big cooler. Inside we gathered tomatoes, carrots, lettuce, bananas, and a half dozen apples. All were still fresh, but there was no telling how long that would last. We also grabbed a loaf of bread that didn’t look as though any mold had grown on it. Yet. We
brought it all outside, spread it on a counter, and made sandwiches. “Is it okay for us to take this much?” I asked Jon. “How many
survivors are in the hospital?”
“Including me and Dr. Kayamori?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Two.”
“You know you’re kind of annoying, right?” Kent said. “That’s it?” Olivia asked with surprise. “There are only two
survivors in the whole hospital?”
“Why is that a shock?” Jon asked. “People weren’t injured in
the attack, they were obliterated. Dr. Kayamori wanted to stay here
in case people showed up and . . . surprise. Here you are.” “And why are
you
staying here?” Kent asked.
“Why not?” Jon said with a shrug. “There’s nowhere else to
go.”
That was a conversation killer.
We finished making a load of tomato and lettuce sandwiches
and stacked them in a bus tray along with the apples and overripe
bananas. I grabbed a few bottles of water from next to the silent
cash register, and we all headed back to the ER.
When we arrived, the doctor was finishing the tape job on Tori’s
new, clean bandage.
“She was incredibly lucky,” Luna said.
“I was just lucky,” Tori said. “If I was
incredibly
lucky, the
sniper would have missed completely.”
“The entrance and exit wounds are clean. Seems as though the bullet passed through without bouncing around inside. If it had, you’d probably be dead. As it is, you’ll be feeling some pain while
the muscle heals.”
She looked to us and added, “I packed the wound with cotton
to allow it to heal from the inside. It’ll have to be changed every
day or so for a while. I gave her a tetanus shot and some antibiotic
tablets. Multiple vitamins too. There isn’t anything more I would
do even if the hospital were fully functional.”
She touched Tori on the shoulder and said, “It will be painful
for a few weeks, but you should be feeling better soon after that.” “Thanks, Dr. Kayamori,” Tori said.
“Luna, and you are very welcome. I’m just happy I was here
to help. It’s odd to be the only doctor in a war zone and not have
any patients.”
We all sat at the nurses’ station and chowed on the sandwiches.
I would have preferred a big old hamburger, but you can’t cook a
burger without gas or electricity . . . or meat. Luna placed her battery-powered lantern on the counter, and we sat huddled together
in its light, enjoying the simple meal.
“Do you have any idea what happened?” I asked Luna. “Not a clue. It was about as normal a day as you could imagine.
The only interesting news going on was about Pemberwick Island.
But after a few weeks even that was no longer big news.” “Unless you were there,” Kent groused.
Luna continued, “I was working alone in my office when we
heard the first screams. Then the power went out. Jon came running in and ordered me to go to the basement with him. I was too
confused to do anything but follow.”
“Why her?” Kent asked Jon. “Was she the best doctor here or
just the hottest?”
“Jeez, Kent,” Tori scolded.
Kent shrugged. “Just trying to get the picture.”
Jon replied, “I’d like to say that I was thinking clearly enough
to make those kinds of judgment calls, but the truth is that I had
just delivered a load of paper products to the nurses’ station next to
her office. Dr. Kayamori was the first doctor I saw when the attack
began.”
“And she’s hot,” Kent added.
Jon looked embarrassed, and Luna bailed him out. “It was my good fortune he was there, because he saved my
life. We stayed in the basement for a few hours before deciding
that whatever had happened was over. It took us quite some time
to make our way back up in the dark, and when we finally surfaced,
the hospital was empty. Jon and I left to seek help, but, well, you
know what we found. We came back and have stayed here ever
since.”
“It’s like they swept the city with that laser weapon,” I said. “It
even got to people who were indoors.”
“Unless they were deep below ground,” Jon corrected. “We’ve
met other survivors too. We think that weapon only works at night,
but a few planes have been around during the day using other
weapons. We’ve heard explosions. It’s like they’re trying to finish
the job. We don’t see them much anymore, though. Maybe they
think they got us all.”
“The idea that so many people died in such a short time is hard to
comprehend,” Luna said. “Who could be behind such an evil act?” “That’s what I’d like to know,” I said quickly.
We gave Luna and Jon a brief overview of what we had been
through on Pemberwick: the Ruby, the bogus quarantine, the
SYLO troops from the U.S. Navy that were holding us prisoner,
and the discovery that the black attack planes had the logo of the
U.S. Air Force.
“No way!” Jon blurted out. He had been fidgeting during the
entire story, dying to add his own opinions. He held himself back
until I said that Portland had been attacked by the U.S. Air Force.
That pushed him over the edge.
“That’s just crazy. Why would the Navy be fighting the Air
Force?”
“Current theory? Civil War II,” Kent said casually while licking
tomato pulp from his fingers.
“It’s a horrifying thought,” Luna said soberly. “If it’s true, then
it would follow that Portland isn’t the only battleground.” “That’s what we’re afraid of,” I agreed. “But if the United
States is busy trying to destroy itself, you’d think that other countries would step in to try to stop it.”
“Unless they don’t want to get attacked themselves,” Tori
offered.
“Or unless they want us to wipe ourselves out,” Kent said. Jon suddenly sat bolt upright and looked at his watch. “It’s time!” he said and took off running into the dark. “Time for what?” Tori asked.
“For the last two days, we’ve been picking up a radio broadcast,” Luna explained. “It’s the voice of a woman, but the signal is
very weak, so it’s hard to understand.”
“We heard it,” I said.
“The transmission lasts for two minutes and happens every other
hour on the hour. Jon has been trying to decipher it.” “I’d like to hear it again,” I said.
Luna grabbed the battery-powered lantern and headed after
Jon. We followed her back down the hallway to the small office that
held the ER’s radio.
Jon was inside, already having powered up the device. He was
listening intently to the static while delicately moving his finger
across the touchscreen, searching for a signal.
Kent asked, “Who do you think—”
“Shhh!” Jon snapped.
After hearing nothing for several seconds, I was ready to give
up and go back to my sandwich . . . when the voice came through. “. . . survivors . . . beaten . . . attacked . . . you safe . . . north . . .
thirty-six degrees . . . twenty seconds . . . west one hundred . . .
thirty-one minutes . . . repel . . . invaders . . . strength . . . not
hesitate . . .”
“It’s making me crazy,” Jon complained. “I have no idea what
she’s saying.”
“It’s the same message every two hours,” Luna added. “We
think it’s a recording.”
“Could it be somebody on a ham radio?” Tori asked. “No,” Jon said quickly. “They’re broadcasting on an emergency
frequency. It’s the one used by ambulances to communicate with
hospitals.”
“So there could be other hospitals hearing this right now?” I
asked.
“If they still exist,” Jon said. “And they’re smart enough to be
listening.”
“It can’t be SYLO, or the Air Force,” I said. “Their equipment
is, like, high tech.”
“We must be listening to other survivors,” Tori said. “This
could be a call for help.”
“Then they’re calling the wrong people,” Kent said, scoffing. Tori grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down some of the
disjointed words.
“Thirty-six degrees,” she said while writing furiously. “That
could be a coordinate. But without the whole thing, there’s no way
of knowing where it is.”
The woman’s voice abruptly stopped, leaving nothing but static
coming from the speakers.
Jon glanced at his watch.
“Two minutes on the dot,” he announced. “She’ll be back in
another two hours.”
“Somebody is trying to reach out,” Tori declared.
“Reach out to do what?” Olivia asked.
“I don’t know,” Tori said. “Maybe to find other survivors?” “So why don’t we talk back?” Kent asked.
“I tried,” Jon explained. “There’s no response. It’s another
reason why I think it’s a recording.”
“Well, this is all very interesting,” Kent said, sounding bored.
“But if we don’t know who it is, why they’re broadcasting, where
they are, or what they want, why are we so interested?” Tori said, “Because they may know why we’re at war.” Jon powered down the radio, and the room went silent. I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something quickly. “Luna,