Through Many Fires (Strengthen What Remains) Page 12

  Caden looked around the room with a smile. Even if I did get shot upon arrival, it’s good to be home. “I guess I don’t need to make introductions. Maria, I know you’ve met Lisa, but have you met my mother, Sarah?”

  Maria nodded, “We’ve been talking while you slept.”

  His mother took his hand, “She’s told us about your journey here, but if you’re up to it,” she smiled, “I’d like to hear it from you.”

  “The leg hurts, but I can talk.” He felt the back of his head, “I’ve got a bit of headache. What happened there?”

  Lisa blushed. “You fell against the car when I shot you.”

  “There’s a dent in the door where your head hit it,” Maria said. “The doctor thinks you have a mild concussion.”

  “How is my leg?” he asked.

  Again Lisa blushed. “It was buckshot and most of it went in the ground. Doctor Scott thinks she got the rest out.”

  Caden had a thousand questions, but they were waiting to hear his story. “Okay.” With a glance at Maria he said, “I’ll tell you how we got here, but when I’m done you’ve got to answer my questions.”

  They agreed.

  With as little emotion as possible, he described the D.C. blast and his race to leave the burning city.

  His mother nodded. “The news said tens of thousands left Seattle that day. They just kept coming.” She shook her head, but said no more.

  “I wanted to get to Atlanta and Becky.” Caden noticed the awkward glances toward Maria. “I headed through Maryland into West Virginia. I was at the Georgia border when they bombed Atlanta. I assumed Becky was dead, but she isn’t.”

  “Where is she?” his mother asked.

  “New York. She’s working for President Durant.” He took his mom’s hand. “Things have changed between Becky and me.”

  “Well son, I hate to say it, but I never did think she was the right one for you.”

  Caden shrugged and then described the fiery wreck and finding Adam not far from his dead mother. “I took Adam with me to Fort Rucker hoping to find someone to take him.” He looked around. “Where is Adam?”

  “Asleep in the spare room,” Lisa said.

  “We got a crib out of the attic,” Maria added.

  His mother smiled. “It was yours when you were a baby.”

  Caden felt his face warm. “Okay, well, continuing on with my story. After I arrived at Rucker, I set up camp on the edge of a field near some trees. Armed robbers came during the night and threatened me and the baby. They were about to shoot Adam when Maria came out of the shadows and fired first. She killed one…”

  Lisa gasped.

  “…and I killed the other. That’s how we met.”

  Maria stared at her feet.

  Sarah walked over and hugged her. Looking at Caden she said, “Maria told us you met in Alabama, but she didn’t mention a robbery or saving your life.”

  As he told of the crash landing at JBLM his mother interrupted. “You were flying into Seattle when the blast occurred?” she asked as she sat beside him.

  He nodded.

  “Your father was driving into the city, maybe just arriving, when it happened.”

  “Sherriff Hoover said he was looking for Peter. Why?”

  “Finish your story, son, and then I’ll tell you all I know.”

  “There isn’t much else to say. Maria and Adam came through the crash with bruises. I was banged up a bit and spent a couple of days in the hospital, but overall I was fine. The Governor wants me to take command of the Hansen armory and act as a liaison to the community.”

  His mother squeezed his hand. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here and okay. I’m glad Maria was there for you and that you were both there for Adam. You have angels watching over you.”

  “Why did Dad go to Seattle? Why didn’t Peter and Sue come here?”

  His mother took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “On the day of the Seattle blast Peter called. I talked with him only a moment. He wanted to talk to Trevor. I’m not sure what was said, but your father grabbed his go bag and went.” Tears flowed. “A couple hours later, when he would have been there….” Tears became sobs.

  Lisa took up the story. “Peter called me early on the morning of the Seattle bombing. I nearly shouted into the phone….

  * * *

  “Peter!” Excited, she fumbled with her phone, almost dropped it. “I’ve been worried about you. I’m surprised you got through. I’ve been trying to call, but….”

  “I’m at the station on an official line,” he said in a low, but tense voice.

  “Are you okay? How is Sue?”

  “We’re as fine as can be. I’ve been doing twelve on, twelve off since the D.C. blast, but…I have just a minute and I wanted to make sure my little sister is okay.”

  “I’m fine. The college has shut down until further notice and most of the students have left. I’m just waiting out things in the dorm. I wanted to talk to Mom and Dad about going home, but I haven’t been able to reach them. I stayed with friends a few days, but they left, so I figured it was safer here in the dorm than on the roads. Have you been able to phone our parents?”

  “Not yet. The phone lines are restricted for official use, but I’ll keep trying. Do you have the TV on?”

  “Of course. Nothing else is on. Helicopters show endless lines of cars heading away from the city in a massive horde. Everyone looking for gas and food. People being carjacked. Robberies. Murder. I’ve been scared to travel and afraid to stay.”

  “The flow of refugees has slowed to a crawl. There isn’t much fuel left in the area. This might be your best time to travel. Do you have gas?”

  “Yes, about ten gallons.”

  “Do you have a gun?”

  “No, you know I don’t,” she took a deep breath, “but I have thought about getting one. I’ve heard gunshots. Not on campus, but close enough. Do you think I should buy one?”

  “You can’t get one now. They’ve all been bought or looted.”

  “Look Sis, I’m going to have to go any second now, but I want you to read Matthew 24:15 -18. A close friend passed it along to me just this morning. The verse spoke to me in this time of tribulation, and I hope it does the same for you.”

  “Okay I’ll look it up.”

  “I love you, Sis. Read those verses and keep the news on. I’ve got to go.”

  After hanging up, Lisa looked about the room. Where is my Bible? She walked over and turned up the volume on the television. The now normal terrorism aftermath news continued with reports of radiation patterns from stricken cities, causality counts, rationing and announcers on the scene of FEMA camps and food distribution centers, but nothing new about the northwest.

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when her stomach grumbled. I haven’t had breakfast. She searched the cupboard of her tiny dorm room for something to eat. Anything will do. On the second self she found a candy bar and her Bible. Flipping through the pages as she ate, she came to Matthew 24.

  15 When ye therefore shall see the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet, stand in the holy place, (whoso readeth, let him understand:)

  16 Then let them which be in Judaea flee into the mountains:

  17 Let him which is on the housetop not come down to take anything out of his house:

  18 Neither let him which is in the field return back to take his clothes.

  That’s not comforting. Why did he want me to read that? Puzzled, she set her Bible aside, and leaned back in the chair to watch more news.

  A TV reporter stood beside a map of the United States, “The state of California is under martial law along with the District of Columbia, Maryland, Northern Virginia and the Memphis metro area, due to terrorist attacks. In addition the cities of Baltimore, Chicago, Cleveland, Detroit….”

  Wait…Peter didn’t say the passage was comforting. What did he say? Something about a close friend passing it to him. And he said it spoke to him in this
‘time of tribulation.’ She read it again. Words jumped out at her. … abomination of desolation…flee into the mountains… not come down to take anything… Oh God, it’s a message.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lisa threw the luggage into the trunk of her small car with fear-aided ease and then slid in the driver’s seat. The smell of smoke from an unseen fire drifted across the nearly empty parking lot. Calm down. If it is another bomb Peter was warning about you don’t want to get in an accident. She turned the key and the old car sputtered to life. Taking a deep breath she shifted it into gear and headed across the campus.

  Turning a corner she saw the wrought iron gates at the entrance of the campus were shut. She briefly considered ramming them like in the movies, but stopped just a few feet away. Stepping from the car she approached the gate. A thick chain and heavy lock secured it. She pulled on the chain hoping it would magically open. There was a gate at the far end of the campus, but she was certain it would also be locked. She gently bit her lip as she considered her options.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Lisa spun around and clamped down hard on her lip. A security guard was walking along the fence.

  She rubbed her mouth. “I…I was going home, but the gate is locked.”

  He shook his head. “I thought everyone was gone except us.”

  “Us?” Lisa asked.

  “Single guys on the security staff.” He pointed up the hill to the oldest building on the campus. “Several of us moved in up there. Also, there’s a few international students that are stuck here and a couple of professors staying in their offices, but I didn’t think any others were left here.” He walked up to the gate. “Are you sure you want to go off campus?”

  Lisa took a deep breath and nodded.

  “Where’s home?”

  “Hansen.”

  “Don’t stop for anything till you get there,” he said.

  Returning to her car Lisa locked both doors. The guard opened one gate enough for her to exit. As she drove away from the campus onto the vacant street, she could see a cloud of smoke drifting down from the north. Turning on the radio she heard the usual litany.

  “…have promised food and medical assistance. Some help is expected to arrive by air in the coming weeks, but the bulk will take several months to come by ship.

  “Hospitals outside the red zones are overwhelmed, forcing the relocation of patients to facilities sometimes hundreds of miles away. In addition the massive exodus from all major cities has compounded the problem with additional injuries. All medical personal are asked to report to the nearest hospital or clinic.

  “All military, National Guard and Coast Guard personnel are to report….”

  Nothing new. She turned it down low.

  Rounding the next corner she could see the freeway on ramp. Several cars were sitting almost blocking access. She slowed down. Something moved behind one of the vehicles. I’m going to another on ramp. She turned the wheel.

  A shot rang out.

  Hitting the gas pedal she sped to the left down a side street.

  Less than a mile from the college and I’ve been shot at. She considered going back to the campus, but Peter’s warning pushed her onward.

  She roared onto the freeway at the next open ramp. A single car zipped past her as she pulled into the lane. Abandoned vehicles had been pushed to the side leaving about half of the highway clear. It looked like a post-apocalyptic movie set.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. Soldiers on the overpass. That’s why it was clear. She smiled and hoped to see more.

  Along both sides of the highway were malls and shops, but the people Lisa could see didn’t seem to be shopping. Some groups appeared to be walking south. Others pushed shopping carts filled with unbagged merchandise. Refugees and looters.

  A mile down the road she was beginning to ease off the gas pedal when she spotted another group of armed men breaking into abandoned cars. Lisa zoomed by as fast as possible but, apparently content with looting vehicles they took little note of her.

  Rounding the next curve a bit too fast, she struggled to keep her car from hitting an abandon vehicle. Coming out of the bend she heard a snap like the breaking of a twig and then a high pitched whine seemed to fill the car. As it reached a crescendo she wanted to clamp her hands over her ears. Then it stopped.

  Lisa glanced down. The radio? Was that the radio? The station it had been on was gone. Only crackle and static came from it now. She pressed search on the radio and down on the gas pedal.

  Several cars sped past her.

  She wanted to speed up, but was more afraid of an accident than any direct threat. Continuing south she topped several hills. Office buildings and empty parking lots gave way to houses and trees as she continued south away from Olympia. Still miles from home the more suburb setting looked familiar, but the abandon cars, burned out homes and empty neighborhoods continued the eerie surrealism. Still with no immediate threats she slowly eased off the gas.

  “…back on the air using generator power.”

  She gasped, startled by a voice from the radio.

  “Reports are coming in that a mushroom cloud is rising over southern Puget Sound or the suburbs south of Seattle. We can’t see anything from our studio in Tacoma, but we are attempting to confirm it.”

  Lisa sped up once again.

  Moments later the announcer stated, “People heading south are confirming the attack and out-of-control fires spreading away from the blast zone toward Tacoma. From our studio we can see dark clouds and heavy smoke rolling across the nearby hills. We may have to evacuate the studio.”

  Traffic had been light, but was now picking up as cars joined the flow south at each on ramp. Everyone who hadn’t fled the metro area just decided to leave. Thank you Peter, for giving me a head start. Then she recalled what the announcer had said about the location of the blast, south Puget Sound or the suburbs south of Seattle, and tears rolled from her eyes for her brother Peter and his wife Sue.

  She wiped her cheeks and slowed as she rolled into the county of her birth. Two more small towns, then the exit for Hansen. She sighed, wiped her face and then swept her eyes along the sides of the road. She wondered why the destruction was greater here than it had been in Olympia. Gas stations and convenience stores were burned and looted along with nearby homes and shops. Pillars of smoke rose from the upcoming town.

  She glanced down. Her gas gauge showed just over half. If she had been coming from Seattle she would be low on fuel by this time. She imagined the desperation of a family fleeing anticipated nuclear annihilation and arriving in a small town with not enough fuel to get wherever they might be going. I don’t have any food with me and only a few gallons of gas, but I’ve got family nearby.

  Up ahead a motel parking lot was full of cars. Dozens of people wandered about the building and a nearby burned out gas station.

  Tens of thousands drove here hoping to go on to relatives and friends beyond. How many didn’t make it? Did they run out of gas and walk or did they just stay here? How would they get food? Did they die?

  A few miles down the road Lisa neared the Hansen exit. She scanned the ramp and overpass for danger. She could see men, women and children along the overpass and on either side. Many watched as she approached, but none appeared to be armed. She raced up the overpass and turned left.

  Immediately people held out their hands urging her to stop. Others stepped into the road almost blocking her way. She swerved to avoid one person then another and another. The crowd pressed in slowing her to a crawl. They pulled on the locked doors. The car was barely moving now. Three burly men stepped into the road thirty feet ahead. One held a crowbar.

  They want my car, my gas. I might be killed or…. She knew the road ahead was straight for several hundred yards. God help me. She closed her eyes and rammed her foot down on the gas pedal.

  The car sputtered and then roared forward.

  Bang.

  Thump.

 
Screams of terror and angry yells filled her ears.

  A second later she opened her eyes. The road ahead was clear and the windshield cracked. No, don’t look! Don’t look in the rearview mirror. Whatever is back there you don’t want to see it.

  Lisa sped on as tears flowed. They should have gotten out of the way. They would have stolen my car. They might have killed me. She sobbed. I killed someone. I’m going to jail. More tears followed. The guard at the college, he said, don’t stop for anything. Lisa shook her head. No, it was a hit and run. They’ll throw me in prison. She took a deep breath and tried to stop crying, but within moments the cycle of self-recrimination and justification resumed.

  Gradually the lack of people, rural setting and very familiar road gave comfort. She knew that Hansen was just a few miles ahead. I’ll talk to Dad when I get home. He’ll know what to do. With a big sigh she wiped away the last of the tears as the road descended into the river valley where the family had camped and picnicked many times. The forest was thick here and reached down to the shore of the lake only a mile ahead.

  She rounded a gradual bend in the road and onto a causeway that crossed the lake. Almost home! Looking to the far bank she saw bulldozers parked across the road. She slowed the car to a crawl. Poles stood on either side with bodies hanging from them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “What?” Caden interrupted his sister’s story. “You saw bodies, hanging from poles, at the blockade?”

  Lisa crossed her arms. “I told you I ran down three men and you didn’t say a thing, but I say there were bodies at the blockade and you want clarification?”

  Caden gestured, “Stop right there. When you hit those men you did what you had to do. I would have done the same.”

  His mother nodded. “That’s what your father said.”

  “How did you get home?” Caden asked.

  She relaxed her arms. “I threw the car in reverse, turned around, and headed for the logging road south of the lake.”

  Caden laughed. “We tried that road also. They must have pulled the culvert after you used it.” He thought for a moment. “I didn’t see any bodies at the blockade and I don’t remember any poles.” He turned to Maria. “Did you see anything?”