Above the Hush Page 13
An old Volkswagen van was parked in the grass in front of the rest area building. A tent emerged from the side of the van, four people sat under it.
The smoke was caused by someone grilling.
It was obviously made into a campsite, from what I could see there was two family size tents, a few older cars, and people moved about. I couldn’t gauge how many.
We parked a little bit from them, and stepped from the car.
“Did you want to go in the building and wrap?” West asked me.
I looked over to the rest area and noticed we had captured their attention.
“No,” I said. “I’ll do it here.”
Troy had given me his short-sleeved, button down baseball shirt, and it was so much easier to take off.
I stayed on the passenger side of the car, cautiously removing the shirt.
“Here, let me help,” West stepped to me.
“I got it.”
“I’m sure you do. I’m also sure, if I wrap you it will be consistently firm.”
Relenting, I raised my hands as best as I could, and West stepped up to me. He unwrapped the Ace bandages, rolling them as he did.
“The bruising is minimal,” he said. “I was worried.”
“They’re just sore.”
“Can you do me a favor?” he asked. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”
I lifted my eyes to him, then attempted a breath. It made it only so far and I coughed.
“You’re not doing your deep breaths,” he said. “Are you?”
“I’m trying.”
“You need to do them and cough, just … just play it safe.”
I was sure we were a spectacle, the entertainment for the day. A half-dressed woman being wrapped like a mummy.
When he finished he helped me put on my shirt.
“Do you recognize anyone?” he asked.
I leaned to my right and peered beyond him. “Not really.”
“Let’s go over and see if anyone knows anything,” he said.
Before walking over to the camp, I checked the time on the clock, then grabbed one of the flashlights and placed it on the ground a few feet from the car.
Fifteen minutes had passed since the alarm went off.
“Something smells good,” I said. “I wonder what they’re making.”
“They could be cooking rat, but if it’s on a grill it’s going to smell awesome to me.”
“That’s just gross.”
A woman stood by the grill a short distance from the tents. She looked at us, set down the utensil she was using and made her way over.
“Are you alright?” she asked, looking directly at me. “Do you need help?”
Her stare made me self-conscious, did I look that bad?
Before I could answer, West did. “No, we’re looking for people,” he said. “Her family.”
“Are they from Palmyra?” she asked. “We’re all from that area. About twenty of us.”
“No,” I shook my head. “Have you run into any other groups?”
“I’m sorry, we haven’t,” she replied.. “We are on our way to Fredericksburg. We heard a radio transmission about a camp there. Big one. It wasn’t the camp making the call. Just some guy.”
“You can’t be going there now, are you?” West asked.
“We are. Probably would have been there already had one of our vehicles not conked out.” She pointed to two men that worked on a truck. “As soon as it’s fixed we’ll be going. We pitched the tents because it may not be until tomorrow.”
“Listen there’s a good chance North Anna will meltdown,” West said.
She shook her head with a scoff. “No. I’m pretty sure that’s secure. Why would everyone be going to Fredericksburg if it wasn’t.”
“Are you leading the pilgrimage?” West asked.
She laughed at him. “Pilgrimage. Um ... no. If anyone is sort of in charge it’s Bill Thomas. Big fella playing cards under the tent.”
“I’m going to go talk to him,” West said.
The woman again looked at me. “Are you sure you don’t need something. Some water, something?”
“No, thank you.” I then looked at West. “Go talk to him, I’m going to head into the rest room.”
West didn’t question when I said I had to excuse myself. He just gave me a look, and then headed over toward the tent where Bill was seated with three other men playing cards at a table. It wasn’t that I had to ‘go’, I didn’t. I needed to see a mirror. It hit me that I hadn’t looked at my reflection in days. I needed to see what others saw. Why everyone felt the need to ask me if I wanted help. Did I really look that bad? Was I fooling myself and truly was sicker than I thought. I started to question things. Maybe the tightness in my chest wasn’t the Ace bandage but rather pneumonia settling into my lungs. Maybe I was fevered worse than I believed. Maybe my hand stopped hurting, not because it was healing, but rather because it was completely dead. In any case, I needed to take a look at my reflection, and hopefully, the water was running so I could splash my face.
I walked over to the rest area building. My arm wrapped around my waist bracing my chest as I walked. It felt better that way. Even though the woman cooking on the grill indicated that it was impossible that my family was there, because they weren’t from around their area, I still looked at every face that I passed. Looking to see if there were some sense of familiarity. Maybe one of Waynesboro people joined them and they didn’t know. Wishful thinking, I suppose.
When I made it into the building it was dark, the only light came in through the double glass door and the windows near the ceiling. It was chilly in there. Then again, I probably was the only one not complaining of the heat. The bathroom smelled stale and of human waste. It lingered, probably mixing with the humidity in the air. I went into the ladies’ room passing a woman as I did. She stared at me. The entire time she walked by me, she stared at me. I really worried about how badly I looked. It wasn’t a vanity thing. It was more that I was suddenly scared that I was far worse than I allowed myself to feel. It didn’t hit me or dawn on me until that moment that there was a chance that I may not find my family, not because of any search being unsuccessful, but because of my failing health. And even if I did, was there a possibility I wouldn’t be around to enjoy them?
When I finally made it in front of the mirror, not even the dim lit ladies room could hide my horrible reflection. I was terrified. I didn’t recall looking so drained, so pale. My eyes were dark and I looked as if I aged ten years. Maybe it was the lack of make-up, I rarely went anywhere without it, or at least a touch. But I did look bad. I wanted to cry. What had caused it? My hand? The electrocution? A combination of both?
At that moment, I started to feel self-conscious and I just wanted to grab West, head back to the car and wait for the surge to be over. Before leaving the bathroom, I turned on the faucet. The water tricked out into my free hand, and I brought it to my face.
It was cold, a painful cold that felt like needles and pins to my skin.
When I left the bathroom, I thought maybe it was my imagination that I heard a motor. It wasn’t loud, but it was a steady hum. I moved across the rest area and that was when I saw the bright orange extension cord. It came through the other set of double doors, ran across the lobby and over the counter into the visitor information desk.
I wasn’t aware how much time had passed, but I certainly knew we were close to the next surge. The extension cord ran outside, snaking across the grass, between the two tents and finally to a small generator ten feet from everyone.
I made my way over to the Volkswagen van, where I saw West standing and talking to a man I assumed was Bill.
“Hey,” I said to West, anxious to tell him about what I saw.
“Oh, hey, Audrey this is Bill.”
I acknowledged Bill with a look. “West …”
“Apparently, people passed through yesterday when they broke down. They gave them a ride to the Walmart about ten miles east of he
re,” West said. “To get them parts. Not the right ones, anyhow, there is doctor there, a camp. Kind of a midway station to the interchange of sixty-four and ninety-five.”
“I don’t understand,” Bill said. “If you’re going to Fredericksburg, why are you going the long way?”
West looked at him. “We figured they may not have known about Fredericksburg, we’ll take the short route back.”
They spoke as if I weren’t there, no matter how many times I opened my mouth.
Bill shook his head. “You may not need to hit the interchange. If that doc saw them, you can save yourselves some miles. Plus, maybe he can help you.” He directed his comment at me.
“Yeah, Audrey, that may not be …”
“Stop.” I held up my hand. “They have a generator.”
“Okay,” West said.
“It’s running.”
“I don’t hear it.”
“You wouldn’t,” Bill said. “It’s one of those new …”
West screamed a shocking, “Ugh!” that silenced Bill. “You can’t run it. Shut it off.”
“We need to run it,” Bill replied. “We have Mrs. Magnus. She’s eighty-nine, breathing problems, this heat is too much.”
“I’m not saying shut it down for good. For now, right now.” West turned to me. “How much time.”
“It’s going to be any minute.”
“What?” Bill asked.
“Another surge,” West said.
“You can’t possibly know …”
“We do. Shut it off now,” West urged. “I’ll go get you the schedule. We have two people who have been watching …”
“Watching what?” Bill questioned.
“Just … shut it down. I’ll explain after I get the charts.”
“Fine.”
West took hold of my arm and led me from Bill and the table.
I heard Bill shout out the order to shut down the generator. To which he was met with questions.
“Jesus,” West picked up the pace, passing Grill Lady. “We’ll go get the chart, share it, we have extra flashlights. But until …”
I stopped. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
I raised my arm to show the hair standing on end.
He went from looking at my arm to raising his eyes and turning around.
I believe it was the first time he and I both actually witnessed it.
In my mind’s eye, I expected something visual, a spark perhaps, a blue lightning bolt. Instead, there were more sounds. A hum, then crackle as the generator snapped with electricity and a slight surge sounded. No screams, just thuds as those around the power cord flew five feet in the air, and backwards, landing on the ground. Those who weren’t immediately shocked, raced to help those who were and stupidly became conductors.
We were helpless, there was nothing we could do.
There was no way to help without succumbing ourselves.
The entire event took all of ten seconds … if that.
When it was over, there was an immediate silence, followed instantly by the gut wrenching cries, as Grill Lady, the lone survivor of her town, dropped to her knees and screamed. One scream after another, she didn’t stop, she just kept screaming.
31 – CART RETURN
Bill didn’t make it … obviously. Had he just stayed put, not moved, not been the one to reach for the generator, he more than likely would have been alive.
The three men playing cards with Bill could have made it, but they all ran off to help, making themselves victims as well.
West tried to help. After it was done, he moved to one of the card players and started CPR. He hoped it would work because the man wasn’t directly shocked.
It didn’t.
The generator must have sparked, because there was smoke coming from it, and the ground had been blackened.
Mrs. Magnus, the old woman in the rest area, the reason for the generator was burned to an unrecognizable state. She smoldered more than the furniture around her.
Of the twenty plus people at that camp, only one person lived. Grill Lady, or Sandy as we learned. She was hysterical at first, then in shock.
We couldn’t leave her behind, she had to come with us. She didn’t want to at first, screaming and crying that we had to bury her friends.
There was no way that we could do that. We simply didn’t have the minutes to spare. West helped her move everyone into a common area, even that took time. When it was all said and done, and we made it to the car, we were five hours from the next surge and eighteen from the big CME. Still, enough time to get it all done. We were cutting it close
Sandy had only a few things she wanted to bring, but she didn’t say much when we got to the car, she sat in the back seat, staring forward.
Before we got back in, West set the alarm clock and grabbed a map. He spread it out on the hood and marked the area of the campsite.
“We haven’t made much progress, have we?” I asked.
“Considering the road conditions, I will say we did.”
I peered around him to peek at the map. When I leaned to the left, I coughed. West looked at me as if I just passed the Bubonic Plague his way.
I ignored him and pointed. “You have two more circles inside your radius area.”
“The big circle is a hundred mile radius. Beyond that is my safe zone,” he said. “We are in the second circle. That is the fifty mile radius, that’s what the government evacuates to,”
“The little circle. We’re far from that.”
“Right now not really. Maybe thirty miles,” he said. “Unless we go to ninety-five, we will be in the ten mile radius at some point. Hopefully we won’t be there when North Anna goes.”
“That’s the bad area?”
“Without protection, once the core melts down, that area is life threatening. Within hours the radiation dosage is deadly. Then again, wind and everything factors in.”
“So the area around it, would be destroyed because of the explosion.”
He shook his head. “When there’s a meltdown, there is rarely an explosion. A massive amount of radioactive steam is released. Unless, there is hydrogen built up. Then it explodes. Even then we’re not talking a fireball. In that two mile radius, if anyone is there they start getting that deadly dose immediately.”
“But no one knows what something like this would do,” I said.
“Science is science. The CME may cause a surge that ignites the generators and blows the building, but the core will still react the same. Radiation pours out. My concern isn’t just on one, it’s that they’re all gonna go and they’ll go within hours and days, some probably already have.”
“What happens if we’re in this ten mile area?” I asked.
“We will only be in that ten mile area if we think your family is there. If they’re in Fredericksburg, we bypass it. That’s my plan.”
“Okay, but let’s say they are there. What …” I paused to cough again, this time wincing as a sharp pain radiated into my shoulder. “What happens if we’re there when it goes?”
“We get out.”
“And if we didn’t find my family?”
West folded the map. “We get out. It’s suicide to stay. Especially in your already weakened state. I’m sorry, Audrey, if they’re in there when it goes we need to pray they get out. If you stay in there to look, you will die before you find them.”
I lowered my head some. I was finished with my science lesson for the day. I took another dose of ibuprofen and got back in the car.
I wish there was a medication that would ease the ache in my soul. Because with the way things were going, my family would be in that area, or at least on their way through. My journey had been a prime example of Murphy’s law. In fact, I started to believe I was jinxed, some sort of witness to the end and angel of death. That all they had was me. My fault, like so many sins of the past I was paying for. Granted that was giving myself a lot of credit for a lot of bad. But it seemed that way.
I didn’t say much on the short trip to the Walmart, I stared out the window in my own world, thinking about movies and stories of the apocalypse, ones I watched or read, where I yelled at the screen because the main survival group would meet up with people who had it together and then those people would die.
That was me.
“You okay?” West asked.
I rolled my eyes slightly annoyed at that question. “Yeah, just thinking, why are you asking?”
“You’re coughing a lot.”
I hadn’t even noticed, I must have looked at him as if he were nuts.
“We’re here,” West announced.
Not far ahead the big recognizable blue and white sign reached for the sky. I didn’t know what to expect when we pulled into the parking lot. Was the camp in the store? Spread out across the lot. I hoped for hundreds of people, maybe even spotting Ken or Michael.
It was pretty bare. A few cars scattered in the parking, I guessed they were early morning shoppers at the store when everything fell apart.
There were a few people, not many, and about a dozen tents set up with camping gear, probably scooped up from inside the store.
In the midst of it all was one white tent. It stood out. That had to be the main one.
When the car stopped I looked back to Sandy. “We’re here. We’ll get you help.”
“Then what?” she said sadly. “Everyone I know is dead.”
“Yeah, me, too,” West opened the door and stepped out.
I was a bit shocked at how he just blurted that out. After opening the back door for Sandy, I walked to the front of the car with West.
“I hope everyone here doesn’t die in an hour,” I said.
“Why would you say that?” he asked.
“Because it seems to happen that way.”
“I noticed that, too.”