The station went to static and Harry continued to search the dial.
“Harry? What does this mean? What’s going on?”
“Quite simply…” Harry looked at him. “Don’t know why, but some way, somehow, we are at war. And I think son, the war has come here.”
Foster found it. He kept going around the blocks up and down, until he finally got the bright idea to go to the roof of a nearby building and search for the bus.
After he did that, he was able to locate it.
It was parked by a diner and coffee shop about two blocks to the west. He loaded what he could from the coffee shop and then loaded all of them on the bus.
Foster had never even driven a car; he knew the basics and prayed he’d be able to drive the bus.
The keys were still in the ignition and he wasn’t even sure he knew what to do.
He started it and the gears ground.
Okay that wasn’t right.
He didn’t have to back out and that was a good thing. He couldn’t believe how hard the wheel was to turn.
It felt heavy as he drove. At least he didn’t have to worry about traffic or hitting another car.
He practiced braking before pulling onto the street where the injured were located.
Foster really didn’t have a plan other than to get everyone on the bus. He wanted to get them sheltered inside and then find a hospital. Not that he knew if there would be anyone at the hospital, but he could try. If that didn’t pan out, he’d try something else.
After taking his time and driving super cautiously, Foster arrived on the street, parking the bus close enough, but at a safe distance where he wouldn’t hit anyone.
He expected Abby would be gone when he returned. He was surprised to see her still there.
Of course Abby sat alone. He didn’t understand. If she didn’t want to help or be there, why was she?
Maybe it all an act and eventually Abby would turn.
Those were Foster’s thoughts.
But at that moment he couldn’t worry about Abby; he had to worry about how he was going to get all forty people on that bus.
His answer to himself was a simple one.
One at a time, that was how to do it.
And Foster started right away with that task.
Lana and Ben had an early supper of Campbell’s Chicken noodle soup. They ate it on the deck of the summer house. By early evening Lana was exhausted. She had consumed half of a bottle of wine and declared herself semi intoxicated.
Ben on the other hand sipped bourbon. He wanted to keep his wits about him and come up with a plan.
First and foremost they needed to know more of what was going on.
He and Lana decided that in the morning they’d go out and search for a radio or something. Maybe even a generator to charge the phone and get on the internet.
But for the evening, they were tired and sad and didn’t feel much like doing anything.
The shock of the two days had finally worn off and aided by her ‘drunk’ Lana cried. She cried a lot.
Ben wanted to cry, but stayed strong for his wife. He’d hold her hand, listen to her talk about her mother and sister, and then add his own memories of his mother.
They wondered about the virus or flu that had ravaged their families and friends.
Were they hit with the virus at the same time as the bombs hit New York?
They deducted it had to be some sort of large scale biological weapon. Perhaps it had been a warhead with capabilities of dispersing a germ over a wide area.
It hadn’t been released earlier than the New York attacks because Lana and Ben weren’t ill.
Neither were the others who survived the train wreck.
Perhaps it was the emotion of the past couple days, but Ben really wanted to bring up the fact that one week earlier they were fighting over who was going to get the flat screen television. Now they focused on more important things and the divorce seemed trivial.
He didn’t bring it up at all. But he did, however, keep looking at Lana, a woman he knew most of his life, and a woman he still loved very much.
He was glad he was with her.
There wasn’t another person he’d rather be with.
As they settled for the evening, Ben and Lana talked about the survivors who remained in the tunnel and the man named Brendan who went after them.
They wondered how they reacted when they emerged.
Ben and Lana knew how they must have felt.
The sun was starting to set and the temperature dropped as a breeze blew in from the ocean.
It was going to be a clear night.
Ben gathered up blankets and pillows, as many as he could find, from the house.
He got a genuine smile and laugh when he found them.
They were stored neatly in space age, plastic suction bags. He remembered when his mother heard about those bags. Calling him and saying, “Bennie, I can store five blankets without using any room.”
“Yeah, yeah, mom, I’m sure they work like that.”
And they did.
The blankets and pillows were air tight and sealed in colorful bags and stacked neatly in the hall closet.
Ben was impressed at how many items his mother had gotten into such a small space.
It was going to be a chilly night and neither he nor Lana wanted to stay in the house.
They had another long day ahead of them.
For the night, though, Ben pulled the Chaise lounge chairs close. He made them comfortable with pillows and they spent the evening out on the deck, emotionally and physically exhausted.
The hospital wasn’t even worth the harrowing trip. Foster was getting the knack of driving the bus, but it still wasn’t easy and he hit at least three cars.
But no one was at the hospital. Not a soul alive there. It did look as though people had been there. It was getting late and Foster decided it was better to wait until morning to look for help.
He just didn’t know what to do. He really didn’t. He was over his head and most of the injured just whimpered.
Judith said her eyes hurt, but she couldn’t speak for anyone else. She didn’t whimper; she was strong and Foster really wanted to speak to her. But she already had enough on her plate without listening to his woes.
They’d all sleep in the bus; it would be cold, but there wasn’t really much Foster could do about it.
He did his best to feed them and give them water. He moved nonstop and truth be known, Foster was tired. He just wanted to sleep.
Abby had found a bottle of booze in one of the houses and had taken to sipping that.
Foster didn’t want to deal with her. She wasn’t helping and didn’t say much.
She was almost a hindrance, at least mentally for Foster, she was.
Maybe she was tired like he was and maybe it was all just finally getting to her.
Foster sat in the driver’s seat of the bus. He could see her sitting outside, just sitting there. He couldn’t worry about her.
He turned his body some, getting as comfortable as he could and tried to sleep.
The next day, he believed, things would be different for everyone.
While Harry had a comfortable home and bed, he wasn’t venturing far from the door, the basement or Tyler. He made the boy a bed on the sofa and caught few winks in the chair. It wasn’t like he was doing anything new since Harry often fell asleep in that chair.
He had packed his bag with clothes and pictures and was ready to leave first thing in the morning.
The present for Leo, still semi wrapped, was placed in the car with his and Tyler’s belongings. They needed only to wake, wash up, eat a little and they would be on their way.