It really happened.
She didn’t remember having a blanket, someone, Abe or Harland must have covered her. She was warm and the air felt stuffy. Not moving caused her body to go into some sort of mode and there wasn’t a part of Kit that didn’t hurt.
She sat on the couch, catching her breath, not wanting to go back to sleep. Only a lantern perched on the counter lit the large room, and Kit reached for her water on the table.
Her hands trembled, and she brought the liquid to her lips.
She had a complete list of names in her head of people she worried about and was scared for. Her daughter, Jillie and her mother were on that list.
How long had she been asleep?
She so badly wanted to check her phone, but she didn’t have it. She had nothing from the plane, nothing that she brought with her.
As she felt the water hit her stomach, her head pounded and throbbed with each ache, and then Kit felt something else… sick.
It started as a churning in her belly, then swelled up her esophagus.
She grabbed the flashlight from the coffee table and after stumbling some, she raced down the hall to the bathroom.
She barely made it, dropping the flashlight on the floor as she threw herself around the commode.
She vomited violently, unable to control it and even after she emptied the contents of her stomach, her body still fought to get something out.
Every dry heave caused her head to pound in pain like she had never felt.
Hating to do so, she flushed once, but her head nearly sealed off the toilet. She couldn’t stop heaving.
“Hey,” Abe called softly. “You all right?” He stepped in and bent down for the flashlight.
“No. I’m sick. I’m really…” Kit lifted up and heaved forward. Nothing emerged. “I think I have radiation sickness.”
“Hold on, I’ll get Harland.”
She nodded and fought the gagging. Abe returned a few minutes later with Harland. He handed her a bottle of water, as Abe helped her to her feet.
“You don’t have radiation sickness,” Harland told her as they escorted her to the living room.
“How do you know?” Kit asked. “You haven’t checked me. My head hurts so bad and I am so sick.”
“You don’t have radiation sickness,” he repeated. “I know this because you were barely exposed and second, you hit your head. You probably have a concussion. That can cause all those symptoms.” He helped her to the couch. “Plus, my God, woman, you were in a plane crash and we’re at war. You’re worried about your kid, your brothers, and family. That alone could make you sick.”
“You’re not.”
“Hard to get sick when you have no one to worry about,” Harland said. “Besides, none of this is bothering me. What bothers me is some assholes decided tonight was a good night to end the world. Now…” he urged her to lay down. “Get some rest.”
“I can’t. I don’t want to. I’d rather try to stay awake. Are you sure I don’t have radiation sickness.”
“I’m positive,” Harland said. “Stay awake, but try to do so laying down. Down,” he ordered.
Kit rested back on the sofa.
“And you too,” Harland pointed to Abe. “You’ve probably seen better days.”
“We all have. Were you able to get anything on the radio?” Abe asked.
Harland nodded. “I was. I was reaching different operators, getting info. Until it all stopped.”
“How is that possible?” Abe questioned further.
“What? Losing contact?”
Abe nodded. “Yes.”
“Hell, son, it’s very possible when war is everywhere.”
“Is it?” Abe asked.
Harland sat down. “Yeah, it is. Last attack came about an hour ago. We were able to intercept about forty percent of their incoming, but that still left a few hundred nukes sailing our way. Plus… radio chatter has it that they doused everything up the middle and bigger cities with biological weapons.”
“Jesus.” Abe sunk into a chair.
“Not confirmed. But when something explodes with minimal damage to buildings, you have to wonder if the real effects of that bomb are gonna happen in a few days,” Harland said.
“What have you confirmed?” Abe asked. “I’m not asking that sarcastically, just curious what we know for sure.”
Harland exhaled, sat down and folded his hands. “We know for a fact, New York, Washington D.C., Los Angeles, Cleveland, Norfolk and a bunch of other places were hit with two or three nukes each. Not like one wouldn’t do the damage.”
“This is insane.”
“It is. They tried to hit NORAD again, missed the mark by thirty miles. That could have been us if they missed the opposite direction.”
Kit sat up some. “Are all the locations safe? The base, Elcort.”
Harland nodded. “Yes.”
“What now?” Abe asked. “What do you think will happen now?”
“Now… we wait. If nothing happens in a couple more days, no more strikes, then this part is done. We help the injured and treat the sick,” Harland said. “President was moved so we still have a branch of the government. I suppose he’ll muster what he can of the troops, get them topside for aide in our cities and the rest and those on ships, overseas, probably use for the ground war phase.”
“Wait?” Kit waved her hand. “Ground war? No. No way.”
“Yeah,” Harland nodded. “You would think, they nuke us, we nuke them, everyone shoots them off, and the thing is done. Grab our sticks and stones and start over. I doubt that would be the case. At the very least they’ll mobilize ground troops here as a means of defense.”
“This is crazy,” Abe said. “It really is. Wasn’t all this enough?”
Harland shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. I mean it can be. It really can. Everyone that was hit may look around, say, ‘oh shit’, and concentrate on their own countries, in a perfect world, everyone will realize how stupid this is. You know, this is not a perfect world. Unfortunately, even under best case scenario where war is done, forgotten, we all lick our wounds and start again, nothing will be the same or easy. Sadly, for all of us, this story…” Harland said. “Has no happy ending.”
FOURTEEN – Waiting
The first time Regis got a good look at Mark after the crash was when they pulled into the base and were taken to decontamination located in a bunker. His little brother was caked with blood and dirt, that it was no wonder Regis couldn’t see him in the dark.
Immediately after decontamination, they were given clothes, and brought into a small medical room, where blood was drawn and wounds treated.
The two copies of Alas, Babylon would be another day before they were returned to Regis. He was worried more about those books than his single injury.
Regis wasn’t even aware he had an abrasion on his cheek until the nurse told him. Mark, on the other hand would need checked out by the doctor. They were pretty certain he had broken a rib, or two.
It was all part of the integration process into the shelter. Regis was antsy. He not only wanted to see Kit and Zeke, he believed they needed to see him and Mark as well.
The room was small, two narrow single beds separated only by a lone night stand. There wasn’t much room to move around and it didn’t look like it was their permanent place. Regis imagined some huge room with all the plane crash survivors set up on cots.
Mark looked around as he sat on his bed. “Hey, do you think that maybe Deana has a psychic intuition, and put us on a plane that was going to crash on purpose?”
“What?” Regis asked and nearly chuckled out the word.
“Deana. Our sister. The evil one.”
That started Regis thinking. Not that he believed for one moment Deana dubiously placed them on the fatal airline. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of his sister. They all fight, but they still love each other. Deana was on the East Coast about thirty miles outside of Washington D.C. Was she fine? Hopefully she was far away from any bombs that fell over there. For as ‘evil’ as Mark liked to jokingly portray her, Deana wasn’t. If she survived, Regis was certain she would be the first one on the front lines. Putting her nursing skills to great use.