I feel awareness come back like after being under after an operation. It’s a sudden awareness as if the brain just turns on. There’s no dreaming or waking from a dream and the thought that you’ve woken up. It’s complete emptiness, nothingness, and darkness followed by awareness. It’s so sudden it’s startling. However, unlike the anesthesia, there is no slowness to the senses. I’m in a space of emptiness one moment and aware the next. I open my eyes and see Lynn sitting beside me looking to the side. I feel her hand holding mine.
“Wow! I must have been seriously tired,” I say reliving the last memory I have of becoming dizzy and falling.
“Jack?! Oh my God!” Lynn says turning her head quickly toward me. I see tears run down her face which startles me for a second. I mean, I’ve only been out for a short bit and only passed out. It’s not like I fell off the roof or something.
I start to rise but Lynn’s hand pushes me back. “Oh no you don’t. You just lie there,” she says.
“I’m fine, seriously,” I say trying to rise against her hand. I notice the IV in my arm and see the faces of Robert and Bri appear.
“Jack, you are not okay. You just lay back and rest,” Lynn says.
I feel fine. As a matter of fact, I feel great. The joint and muscle aches that have plagued me are gone and I notice the drum team in my head is silent. I realize the concern she has over anyone passing out and that they have to take it easy but I honestly feel fine and want to get up. It’s then that I notice the tears welling in Robert’s eyes and streaming down Bri’s cheeks. Yeah, now I’m really confused. People have passed out before without having these theatrics played out.
“Hon, I feel fine. Really. I just passed out from exhaustion or maybe dehydration but I feel fine. There’s a lot to do and I want to find out how many people the teams found,” I say trying to rise again. Lynn pushes firmly back.
“Just passed out, Jack?” Lynn says with a sniffle. “How long do you think you ‘passed out’ for?”
I think about it and how refreshed I feel. It’s that feeling like rising from a well-deserved nap and energy abounds. “Well, most of the afternoon I’d guess,” I answer.
“Jack, you’ve been unconscious for the better part of two weeks,” Lynn says.
I can’t even begin to describe the shock. There is no more trying to rise against her hand. I feel her hand squeeze mine as I try to comprehend what she just said. Two weeks? I think as my mind spins. I don’t even want to think of how they’ve fed me. Her words and my reality just don’t mix. I can’t fathom being out for that long and not being able to realize it. It truly feels like the same day. I mean, I do feel so much better and that’s one point lending favor to her words.
Thoughts race through my mind seemingly at random. Every once in a while, one will stick but not for long as another forms crowding the previous one out. What has happened since I’ve been out? How could I be out for so long? What was it? How are Lynn’s mom and Craig? What have the kids been up to? Did they complete training? Is my neck healed? Did Watkins make it back? What the fuck happened?!
Lynn apparently sees the thoughts flit through my mind. “Jack, don’t worry about a thing. Everything is fine around here. It’s just good to have you back,” she says leaning over to give me a big hug. The kids join her and I’m suddenly engulfed in a sea of bodies. And it’s a good thing.
“You just lay there and rest. We’ll catch you up on what’s going on later,” Lynn adds after the dog pile on Jack ends.
Yeah, there’s no way I could get up with the news that is still so surreal to my mind. On the other hand, I feel restless and want to get up. I was never very good at just lying down when I had energy to burn. Still, I think I’ll lie here and mull things over in my head.
“I’m glad you’re okay, Dad,” Bri says rising.
“Me too, sweetheart,” I reply.
“Yeah, I’m glad you’re okay too, Dad,” Robert says. I nod my thanks to him. I hear footsteps and watch as Gonzalez comes into my vision and kneels beside me.
“Good to see you’re okay, sir,” she says and reaches down to my arm. I watch as she removes the tape holding the needle in my arm and slides it out.
“Thanks,” I say. My mind is still reeling too much to say anything else.
A couple of hours pass and I can’t lie down any longer. I am feeling very restless and want to be up. This time, Lynn allows me to rise but is watchful. I’m sure at the slightest stumble, although that is something I do during the normal course of my day, she will have me back in the cot. I pay careful attention not to trip, falter, or even breathe for that matter because, as much as I like to think so, I don’t have the final say. As weird as the thought is that flies through, I think about having missed getting some — however long ago that might have been. I’m still not completely convinced that almost two weeks have passed.
One thing I am certain of is that I’m hungry. No, strike that. I’m ravenous. After assuring herself that I can still tie my shoes on my own, Lynn walks with me to the dining room. I can’t get enough to eat; however, I do get to the point where I don’t have a bottomless pit in my stomach. I see from the light streaming in the open doors that it’s still daytime and I want to go out. Not much is said between Lynn and me as she is still ascertaining whether I can walk on my own two feet. I get several pats on the shoulder as I pass others on our way out.
If I doubted that time had passed before, looking outside erases any and all doubt. They’ve been extremely busy. Where large fields of only grass once grew, there now stands several barns in various stages of completion. Looking north, large greenhouses stand in the fields. Near the walls and close to our sanctuary are lines of shipping containers with a dirt road in front of them. A mobile crane is situated next to them. As startling as the other sights are, the sight of a giant wind turbine next to the building is even more so.
“We still have to figure out the engineering to gear it into the pumps but we managed to get it upright,” Bannerman says behind me.
“Yeah, I, um, see that. Nicely done,” I say. I’m in awe of the change in our surroundings and that only adds to the confusion that my waking has brought.
“We also have walls around the hospital and are working on the housing development on McChord,” he adds.
“Maybe I should pass out more often,” I say amazed at the progress. Yes, that’s how I’m going to refer to it — passing out.
“Another day or two and we should be able to start bringing livestock in depending on how we want to prioritize that,” Bannerman says.
I’m still too stunned to answer. One thing that does come to my attention is the odor I’m emitting. They apparently fed me and took care of me, for which I’m thankful, but there was a distinct lack of clothing changed. I’m surprised anyone can stand within twenty feet of me. I turn to head in to remedy that. The sun is low in the western sky signifying this day, whichever one it might be, is about to end. I hear the approach of vehicles.
“Who’s that coming in?” I ask.
Lynn, Bannerman, Robert, and Bri all turn toward the entrance road. They stand shielding their eyes from the sun. “What do you mean, Jack? I don’t see a thing,” Lynn finally says.
That’s another thing I notice, the overly brightness of the day I had in the days previous, well, weeks I guess, isn’t as bad as it was. It still seems bright out but not blindingly so. “No, I mean the ones I hear coming in. Who’s out?” I ask.
Lynn looks at me with her sidelong expression that says she’s trying to figure something out. It’s her ‘what the fuck’ look. “We have teams out for the walls and escorts for the trucks. They should be returning shortly,” she answers.