The Dark Above

I recognized her little body. I’d screamed to Bud, who pulled me through the wind. Like the others, she was sleeping. As we reached her, the stand holding a bag of clear solution that seeped through the tube into her body blew over on top of her.

Bud knocked it off and swept her up into his arms. I was sobbing at that point, kissing her face, telling her that Mommy and Daddy were here. That we’d found her.

But she didn’t respond, as if we were holding a rag doll. I know I must have screamed: what was wrong with her? The needle attached to the tube had been yanked out of her arm, and she was bleeding.

Bud just grabbed me and we headed for the door. We knew we had to just get out.

The door flew open, and Dr. Martin stumbled in. I saw for a moment his eyes open in alarm at seeing Lynn limp in our arms.

The three of us ran back out into the hall. I started to ask about what happened to the soldiers when a gust of wind hit us so strong that we fell against the wall.

It was like the soldiers were leaves tossed in the air. They came from an intersecting hallway, thrown with such intensity that even in the howling winds, I could hear their bodies crash against the floor.

We couldn’t stop, though. The only way to the door was to run across that same intersection. Bud gave me Lynn, motioning us to stay behind him. Dr. Martin was actually taller and bigger, but not as strong.

We intended to run and not stop, but we all made the mistake of looking down the other hallway as we moved past.

That’s when we saw her. The woman, at the end of the hall, dressed in the same white medical gown as Lynn. Even with the debris and rain flying around her, I could tell her eyes were closed, her hands on her ears as if they were in terrible pain, blood seeping through her fingers. The soldiers who attempted to reach her were tossed away by the winds like paper dolls.

She opened her eyes.

Somehow, the wind, the chaos, was coming from her.

I heard a massive crack, and the walls themselves started to peel away; chunks of concrete and wood barreling in all directions, including ours.

As we ran, the floor itself began to crumble. I saw Bud reach the door and pull, but the winds were so hard pushing against us that it wouldn’t budge. He cried out in anger and fear, and forced it open.

For a brief moment, I could see outside. The winds and rain were blowing, but paled in comparison to the storm raging around us.

When the slivers of wood sliced into my legs, I had one singular thought. And I knew I alone had it.

Do not misunderstand me: fathers are the pillars of all families. They are the strength, they are the foundation. But it is the mother who is always one step ahead, who sees what must be done before all else.

I screamed at Bud to go out and hold the door, thrusting Lynn at Dr. Martin, ordering him to take her outside. They’d both obliged, just as a block of concrete slammed into me. I could feel my back break.

I’ll never forget Bud’s face as he turned back for me, trying to hold the door open. I was able to scream for him to run, and then immediately slam it shut, preventing everything crashing and barreling into my body from following them out the door.

I’d wanted to save them. I know now it was a futile effort.

My hand aches, but I’ve done it. I am going to rest. If I’m fortunate, I won’t wake up.