Then Came War (9 page)

Beth’s husband Ray lay in bed under the covers. On top of the bed next to him, wrapped in a quilt was Lynn. The coloring, the dried mucus, was the same as they had seen in everyone.

But Beth was different.

She too was dead, but not like Ray and Lynn.

She sat on the floor, her head on the foot of the bed, her one arm draped on the bed while the other dangled. Both of her wrists had been slit and a pool of clotted blood had formed on the bed and floor.

Beth was the reason Ben entered the room. He hadn’t seen it at first, but he did when he started to close the door.

A note hung around her neck attached to a chain necklace and the words were big, obviously written in her distress. Ben retrieved it.

He covered Beth and holding the note, left the bedroom closing the door behind him.

“You found a note,” Lana said.

“She left one, yes.” Ben handed it to her. “It isn’t much.”

“It’s enough.” Lana took the note and read it.

It was simple, very few words.

But the words said a lot. The meaning behind them though was still yet to come to Ben and Lana.

‘For those of us who died … please fight.’

***

“Look here and we get a full tank of gas to boot,” Harry had told Tyler when they found the car. He knew it was going to be a gold mine or at least a viable means of transportation when he saw the man on the hood of the car. It was a repeat visual of what they had seen before.

They were moving now.

Harry was driving and had to admit he was tired. His legs hurt, his body hurt but he couldn’t let Tyler know he was wearing down. Tyler sat up straight and anxious in the front seat; Harry’s wrapped gift to Leo was perched on his lap.

Tyler played with the edge of the paper.

“Held up pretty good, didn’t it?” Harry asked him. “I’m talking about the wrapping paper.”

“Yeah. You wrap nice.”

“Thanks.”

“What’s the present?”

“It’s something old for an old friend. Something I know he has been wanting that I had.”

“Didn’t you like it?”

“Oh, I loved it. It is very priceless to me.”

“So why were you giving it to him?” Tyler asked.

“Because I knew he’d want it. But …” Harry sighed. “I’m just gonna hold on to it now. Leo has probably passed on. He was in New York.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“What is it?”

Harry was going to tell him but didn’t. “You know what? Let’s hold off on knowing what it is?”

“Why?”

“Because you never know what could happen. You and I may be bored one day and there’s a whole story behind the contents of that box. Let wait.”

“So after you take me to my mom, you’ll come back and see me?”

“Without a doubt,” Harry told him. “We’re friends now.”

That’s what Harry told him. Of course in the back of Harry’s mind he had a different reason for saving the box.

Harry had a feeling he was going to be seeing a lot of Tyler and not just because they were friends. It was just a feeling.

Harry didn’t hold high hopes at all as they drove on the Connecticut turnpike.

Especially since they had gone twenty miles and hadn’t seen a car and the radio still played anti-war songs from the seventies on every station.

***

Brendan and the other men had left Madison Square Garden parting ways with Harry and the others simply to return to the subway to aid those who still remained.

They had gathered supplies of water and food and planned on how they would tell the others about what had happened. Or at least try to tell them.

En route to the wreckage, they cleared more of a path to make for easier walking.

They had found flashlights and the rescue mission was underway. What exactly they would do afterward remained to be seen. They supposed they would leave the city to look for help.

It took a little longer to get back than it had taken to get out. That was understandable.

But as they approached the wreck site, there was a new odor in the air.

They could smell smoke.

Had they lit a fire to say warm?

As they got closer the smell became actually smoke; it was thick and filled the air. Brendan and the men picked up their pace.

The flashlights were no longer needed as they made their way around the final train car.

Sunlight burst through, or at least that’s what they thought it to be.

And it was.

The thought that a rescue had occurred quickly evaporated when they arrived.

A huge hole had been blasted through the train wreckage. A new exit had been formed.

Those who had remained waiting for help were still there, but those who remained were merely unrecognizable and charred body parts scattered about.

Whatever or whoever blasted the hole in the wreckage had blasted through the survivors.

Brendan and the others didn’t have a clue what had happened or why, but they didn’t stick around to find out.

They left easily through the new exit.

***

“Right up here!” Tyler sat forward, nearly ejecting himself from his seatbelt with enthusiasm. “Turn here. Turn here, Harry. This is my street.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked.

“Harry, I’m eight.” Tyler said as if to convey to Harry that he was old enough to know where he lived.

Harry turned.

“Oh, wow. That’s my friend’s house. There’s his bike. You think he’s in school?” Tyler rambled. “Bet he’s in school. I know he’s in school.”

Harry didn’t say much. The street was eerily quiet and for a weekday morning there were a lot of cars.

Not once in the trip did Tyler ever make a comment about not seeing a person or car.

Tyler was too focused on his mother and that worried Harry.

“Right there. It’s the house with the blue truck. That’s my house,” Tyler said. “You can pull in the drive way. My mom won’t mind.”

Harry continued to drive.

“At least she’s home. That’s her truck. She likes trucks. My dad has the little car. We left it at the station.”

Harry pulled into the driveway.

“Harry? How do I tell my mom about my dad?”

“Listen Tyler …”

“You’ll help me, right? Oh, wait, you already said you would. She has to be worried.”

“Tyler …”

Before Harry could say anymore, Tyler opened the car door and was out of the car and racing to the house. Harry called out,  “Wait.” But Tyler was too fast.

Harry got out of the car. The drive had made his bones settle and he was feeling the effects of the train crash. Plus Harry really didn’t sleep the night before and any rest he did get was on the cold concrete floor.

He wanted to talk to Tyler, perhaps warn him in a gentle way in case something was wrong. He thought he’d get the chance when he saw Tyler was waiting by the front door.

“Come on, Harry.” Tyler waved and opened the front door.

Harry rushed as best as he could but by the time he reached the stoop, Tyler had entered the house with a mad rush calling loudly, “Mom!”

Harry knew the second he stepped inside all was not well and immediately started trying to figure out how he was going to deal with the aftermath.

“Mom!” Tyler charged up the stairs.

Harry took only a few steps and he saw it.

It was a hand.

He stared at the back of the sofa and could see a woman’s hand reaching for the lamp on the table.

Tyler raced above him calling out and Harry walked over to the couch.

He sighed at the sight of the young woman on the couch. She was laying there, a blanket covering her, her mouth open, her face pale and covered with purple splotches that made her neck look swollen.

She looked different from the bodies they had seen in New York

She looked as if she had fought a long illness.

Harry reached for the blanket. His intent was to cover her completely and then explain to Tyler.

Just as he gripped the edges of the blanket the young voice startled him.

“I think she may have gone …” Tyler stopped speaking.

Harry turned to see the boy standing there.

“Mom?” He inched toward the couch. “Mommy?” He ran over to her body. “Mommy?” Gripping her hand, Tyler called her name

“Tyler.” Harry reached out.

“She looks sick.” Tyler shook her. “Mom? Mommy, wake up. Please wake up?”

Harry could only step back. He was crushed by emotions at that moment and tried to sort them out. He didn’t have a clue on how to handle the situation. “Son.” He laid his hand on Tyler. “Son, I don’t know why. But she’s gone, son.”

Tyler quit his attempts at getting a response from his mother.

He immediately dropped down, his head fell to his mother’s chest and he started to sob as he held on to her. He cried louder and harder than Harry was ready to hear.

There was nothing Harry could do. There were words he could say or comfort he could give. Not at that moment. All he could do was be there, wait and be ready for whatever Tyler needed.

He had no answers to give the boy because Harry didn’t have the answers either.

And Harry wished he did.

CHAPTER TWLEVE

Foster wanted to go to Queens. He needed to go to Queens but they were nearer to Brooklyn because the honking of the car horn had brought them in that direction.

They had found life but not as they knew it.

Those who wandered the residential street were on a tour bus headed to the Aquarium.

The bus had stopped for breakfast and they were all boarding when it happened. As a group, they held a rope, walking and trying to find help and get to a hospital.

There were forty people in all.

Most of them could not hear very well; some were completely deaf.

With the exception of a few who could see light and dark, every single person was blind.

Foster gave Abby the job of getting everyone together and calm while he went into one of the houses and gathered up water to clean their wounds and any pain medication he could find.

It took three houses for him to get what he believed was enough aspirin.

Stepping out of the last house, Foster had to label Abby’s job of gathering people a piss poor one. They still weren’t organized.

“Everyone!” he called out. “I need to know who can hear me at this level.”

A lot of people raised their hands.

“Ok, just stand still. We’re gonna get you seated and situated and help as best as we can.”

“We need medical attention,” someone said. “My eyes hurt.”

“I know,” Foster said. “But I don’t know where to take you. Whatever it was that happened, it happened all over or at least in New York. So… bear with us and we’ll figure something out.”

It took Foster a good hour to get everyone seated on the curb in lawn chairs and chairs he brought from houses.

Abby pretty much did nothing.

Foster tried to ignore that and kept moving. He gave Abby a pan of water and told her to start at one end of the line of people while he worked from the other end.

Foster wiped off faces, gave calming squeezes to hands and reassurance as best as he could.

Abby had helped only three people.

There was an older woman, at least to Foster she was old. She was maybe sixty years old. Her makeup was smeared; her reddish gray hair was all over the place. It appeared that she probably was all dolled up the day before. However, unlike the others she wasn’t crying. When Foster arrived at her side, he said, “Thank you for your patience.”

She grabbed his hand and said, “Thank you for your kindness. You sound young.”

“I am. I’m sixteen.”

“This is such a grown up thing for you to be doing.”

“I’m trying ma’am.” He wiped her face. “I’m glad you can hear me.”

“How many are out here?”

“I counted forty.”

“Oh, so five are unaccounted for,” she said. “My name is Judith. What is yours?”

“Foster.”

“Foster. Is that your given name or last name?”

“Nickname.” Foster smiled. “My real name is James.”

“Oh, you are a Jimmy. I always liked that name. Honey, I was with four people from my Synagogue. I have called out to them but no one is answering.”

“Some people can’t hear.”

“Can you look for them?” Judith asked. “They’ll be wearing name tags like this.” She reached for her chest, felt around and found the tag.

“Yes. I will.” Foster finished cleaning her face. “Judith, what happened? Do you know?”

“Don’t you?”

“No. I was on the train. It crashed. We came up from the subway to find everyone dead. You people are the first people alive that we found.”

“They’ll be more. If we lived, there has to be. I think we were far enough from the explosion not to die.”

“I think that too.”

“All I know is that there were four explosions. We heard them and looked up. We thought, my God, another terror attack. But the sky lit up as if it were on fire. Flames just …. It was like the sky exploded. I dove under the bus. Not an easy task at my size.” She nodded with a smile. “Then a few moments later, I’m expecting the fire, but instead it was pressure, a lot of pressure. My head felt as if it was going to explode. My eyes …. My eyes felt as if they were coming from the sockets. And then … I passed out. When I woke, I heard everyone sounding so confused. And none of us could see.”

“So you know pretty much as much as we do,” Foster said.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Foster stood. “I’ll find out though. And if you guys survived, other did too. We just need to get further from the city. Maybe there’s help there, a hospital, the military, FEMA, something.”

Aimlessly her hand reached out for Foster’s face. “Thank you, Jimmy. You’re a good boy.”

Foster didn’t know how to respond; he just squeezed her hand and moved on to the next person.

Abby didn’t see the point in wiping any more faces. She felt bad that these people were injured and blind, but she wasn’t a doctor or a nurse and she was pretty certain, wiping their faces wasn’t doing a damn thing. It was Foster’s juvenile thinking that made him believe a pan of water and a couple of ibuprofen would cure all.