Then Came War Page 19

  “Stay close to the buildings and move quickly.”

  “I know. I know.” Forster was nervous. He didn’t have a gun; he didn’t have any kind of weapon. If he was found by the enemy, being unarmed was thought to be best. He just need to move, stay focused and move.

  Manny did have a gun. He kept it under his jacket.

  They inched to the garage entrance and looked out.

  Buildings burned and the smoke was thick, but they didn’t see any soldiers. They saw trucks, some parked and some that had exploded.

  At the entrance, with nod to one another they took off.

  The plan was to just run. Run in the direction of the clinic. Once there, Manny would wait outside and Foster would get the items asked for by Doctor Baker.

  He was schooled rather quickly on what he needed to get. If he couldn’t find them, then he’d have to call for Manny. But the doctor had written down all the names the IV bag he needed could possibly have on it. He was looking for Oxytocin, a drug that would help the young woman stop bleeding.

  They raced as fast as they could down the sidewalk. Foster never looked back to see where Manny was. He assumed he was there.

  Only twice did they see enemy soldiers and both times the enemy didn’t see them.

  Foster’s heart pounded when he ran into the clinic. He literally had to stop to not only catch his breath but also to get his wits about him. The continuous shooting had him trembling.

  He was certain that after this adventure it wouldn’t be hard to keep his promise to Judith.

  He heard Manny outside telling him to hurry. Manny had kept up and that made Foster happy. The abortion clinic was on the second floor. The building had not been seized by either United States forces or the enemy.

  It took longer than Foster expected.

  He found one of the operating rooms and searched. He must have been there for a while because Manny sought him out.

  “What’s going on?” Manny asked.

  “I … I can’t find everything.”

  “Okay, no panicking. Okay?” Manny swung his rifle around his shoulder. “Let’s look together.”

  And they did.

  It took several minutes, but they were able to find all of the items that the doctor told them he needed. At least they hoped they had. They shoved them in Foster’s back pack and raced out of the operating area, down the stairs and to the front lobby.

  It was quiet.

  The gun fire was minimal and what they did hear was in the distance.

  Foster felt safe. In the lobby he nodded to Manny.

  Manny peeked out, opened the door and pulled out his weapon.

  Foster followed.

  The moment they took a single step to the sidewalk, two shots rang out.

  Manny’s body jolted from the hit. One shot struck his chest, the other his head and Manny fell instantly to the sidewalk.

  Foster screamed and ran to Manny. As he knelt to check his friend, he saw eight enemy soldiers all aiming their weapons at him.

  Foster dropped the bag, raised his hands and slowly stood.

  ***

  While the roof top wasn’t that tall, it still gave Lana the advantage of seeing a good distance. She watched the United States Forces roll into town. At first it was just a couple of Humvees and then two huge trucks.

  In the distance she heard helicopters. Who they belonged to, she didn’t know.

  The trucks stayed in the back of the town. She watched soldiers ushering people from the school into the trucks and down the road at The Tap another truck was loading people. But people at the school had begun mobbing the truck, making any sort of orderly evacuation impossible.

  Then she spotted Rick. He was trying to reason with the people and calm them down.

  Where was Ben?

  Did Ben get hurt when they went out? Where was he? She was frantic as she scanned faces, trying to recall what he was wearing so she could look for that.

  Her reason for being on the roof was to be a lookout and in a sniper position should the enemy arrive. Lana forgot that duty as she visually searched for her husband and the incoming forces took her by surprise.

  Binoculars scanning, looking for faces, she turned and caught a single enemy soldier in her sight.

  “Just one?” she thought. She moved her binoculars a little more and let out a huge breath as she tried to access the situation so she could convey it accurately.

  Behind her she saw the incoming hostile soldiers making their way forward. In front of her, she saw the United States forces were too consumed with evacuating people to see what was about to arrive.

  She lifted the radio. “This is Scout 3, anyone. Is anyone there?”

  “Go on.”

  “We have hostiles, an entire brigade, too many to count. Trucks, tanks, all armed in battle gear are heading south. They’re hitting the gas station now.”

  She received a confirmation, and then looked again at the enemy. Suddenly, their steady slower pace increased and they charged forward.

  They had spotted the United States forces and town’s people.

  She hurriedly switched views back to the town’s people and it was evident word had reached them. The soldiers stopped putting people in the trucks and instead, those who had not been loaded in were being ushered back into the school.

  The first shot was fired. Lana took her position to shoot.

  The truck by The Tap full and as a final person jumped in, it pulled out. As it did, she saw Ben and sighed with relief. He had been helping get people on that truck and she just hadn’t seen him.

  But there he was out in the open and then …. Ben was shot.

  He took a hit to the chest and stumbled some before taking another hit.

  Lana screamed.

  Sniper position be damned, she thought. She hurriedly shouldered her weapon, raced to the edge of the roof to the ladder and climbed down.

  “Get down. Get inside!” someone shouted.

  Lana heard that and the shots that followed. Not a second into her feet hitting the sidewalk, she heard a shot sing by her head.

  “Get down. Get down!”

  Screw that, she thought, she wasn’t listening to them. She had a block to go to get to Ben.

  Screaming inside, “Oh, God. Oh, God, don’t let him be dead,“ Lana ran as fast as she could to cover the short distance.

  When she arrived a soldier was dragging Ben inside The Tap and Lana followed.

  The soldier moved quickly, laying Ben on the floor and ripping open a field bandage and pressing it to his chest.

  Lana didn’t even get to call out his name. The soldier told her as soon as she entered The Tap, “Hold this tight.”

  He referred to the bandage on the chest.

  Quickly, Lana knelt down next to Ben, her hand compressing the bandage to his wound.

  There was blood on the floor all around Ben.

  The soldier secured another field dressing to Ben’s leg and then stood. “Stay put. Stay here. Keep pressure on that.”

  Lana nodded.

  The soldier rushed to the door, the bright sunlight absorbed the soldier as he disappeared into the mayhem outside.

  “Ben,” Lana wept his name. “Please.”

  He opened his eyes and groaned. It wasn’t a groan of pain, more one of defeat. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “This can’t be good,” he said. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  Another sob and Lana lifted his head onto her lap. “It’ll be okay, it really will. You're just in shock, that’s why it doesn’t hurt. Someone will be back to help. I promise.”

  “I’m not holding my breath,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you go to Canada?” Lana asked. “Why?”

  “Because I wouldn’t be here with you, right now,” he said.

  Lana held him tighter.

  His eyes shifted to look at her. His eyes were red and his face had grown pale. “You know, if I had gone, I would have never known that you were a
closet Sarah Palin.”

  Lana laughed and cried at the same time. “Now is not the time for jokes.”

  “No, now is the perfect time for jokes,” he coughed. “We stopped joking the last couple of years. We stopped talking, too.”

  “And I need you to stop talking now. Save your strength.”

  Ben shook his head. “I know how bad I was shot. It’s okay. Because this moment, right now, makes it okay.”

  Lana lowered her head to meet his.

  “I need you to leave me,” Ben said. “Go below. Leave me.”

  “No.” Lana shook her head. “I’m not leaving you. I am right here.”

  “Listen to it out there. It’s war. It’s a nightmare. Listen to it.”

  “I hear it,” Lana said, pausing as the pockets of thunderous explosions rang out. “And it doesn’t matter. I love you.”

  It was at that second, on hearing her words that Ben sobbed. His hand reached up to her face and his fingers ran down her cheek leaving a bloody trail. He tried his best to keep his hand on her, but couldn’t. “I have loved you since the moment I met you. I have no regrets about our life. None.”

  “Me either.” Lana sniffled. “And it’s not over. Our life is not over. Someone will come. Someone will come in here and …”

  The door opened and the sunlight burst though.

  “See,” Lana said of the shadowy figure. “See, someone is here to help.”

  It was soldier and he walked in. But he wasn’t there to help, he was aiming at them.

  Lana breathed out heavily. “Oh, God.”

  “What?” Ben asked.

  The soldier shouted something in a language she didn’t understand.

  Quickly Lana reached for her weapon, but it was awkward since it was behind her and Ben’s head rested on her lap. “Don’t shoot,” she pleaded and then saw his face.

  He was just a boy, no older than nineteen.

  “My husband is hurt.” Lana’s free arm reached around and she felt the rifle.

  But Lana never got a chance to bring her weapon forward or to engage the chamber.

  The soldier fired. More than he needed to. He fired a rapid spray that was aimless and wayward, sending bullets into the floor, then into Ben and finally ripping into Lana.

  She peered down, then lifted her eyes and looked at the soldier. Then Lana fell forward onto Ben.

  ***

  Harry had made it to the top of the stairs, pushing his way through and into the hall of the school.

  He was beyond frantic. He hoped above all hope that Tyler was grabbed by a Marine, but he didn’t see him. And when he was told to get back into the school, Harry took another way out.

  He had to find Tyler.

  The bus that was loading people was still in the back of the school and Harry slipped by it, calling out, “Tyler! Tyler!”

  But was he heard over the gunfire?

  It was all too reminiscent to Harry, memories of street wars that he had seen in his life. He was in the back of the school and he could only hear the battle. Thus far, it hadn’t reached there and Harry felt safe to keep calling for Tyler.

  Tyler said he had to get the box and the only place it could be was George’s house. He had brought it home the night before from the library.

  George's house was close, just a short walk or run.

  He ran from the school, taking the long way around to avoid town. Harry was certain that when he found Tyler, he’d have to hide with the boy. It was far too dangerous to go into town.

  “Tyler!” Harry yelled. It was getting tough. His legs were tiring and he was getting winded.

  But he got to George’s street and his calls were more easily heard. “Tyler! Harry had to slow down. He limped some, catching his breath as he neared George’s house. “Tyler!” On George’s lawn he bent over to stabilize his rapid breathing, rest just a few seconds and then go into the house.

  “Harry!” Tyler yelled.

  `Smiling, Harry lifted his head. Tyler was standing at George door.

  “I found it.” Tyler grinned. He used his body to push open the screen door and the big box was wrapped in his arms. “Look, Harry, I got it!”

  “Stay there.” Harry lifted his hand. “We have to get inside.”

  “Why?” Tyler asked, racing down the steps of the porch to Harry. “I got the …”

  Bang.

  Harry’s eyes widened at the sound of the shot and he watched in horror as Tyler was hit so hard by the bullet, it sailed his small body back ten feet and the child landed on the ground with a thump.

  Harry raced to Tyler, screaming out a heartbroken and deep, “No!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  He wheezed and his chest hurt worse than when he got hit with a ball during the last little league game. And when Tyler lifted his head, it hurt, too. He was afraid, really afraid to look down at his chest. He had played enough video games. The last he remembered was feeling a tremendous hit to his chest and flying back. He passed out when his head connected to the ground.

  But he had to look. He had to see how bad it was because it really hurt.

  He opened his eyes, but had to keep them squinted. Wind whipped around him blowing dirt in his face. It took him a moment to realize it was a helicopter.

  Then he lifted his head and peeked.

  Nothing. His hands felt his chest. No bullet hole, no blood. It hurt like heck, but why was he not bleeding? Then he saw it.

  The box.

  It lay next to him and Tyler rolled to his side. A grin wide and bright smeared across his face when he saw was sticking in the top of the box.

  It was a bullet.

  Harry said there was something about that box and there was.

  “Harry!” Tyler called brightly. “Harry, check this out.” He scurried to his knees, then got to his feet and grabbed the box. “The box saved my life. Look here’s the bullet.”

  Tyler spun to look for Harry.

  He saw him.

  Not ten feet from where Tyler had fallen, Harry lay in a pool of his own blood, motionless. His head was turned to the side facing Tyler, his body bloody and tattered, ripped to shreds by bullets.

  “No.” Tyler whimpered and ran to Harry, dropping to the ground. His knees slid in the blood and he let go of the box. “No. Harry?” Tyler shook him. “No. Wake up, Harry, wake up.” His little heart broke right then and there. He grabbed on to Harry, lowered his head to Harry’s chest and sobbed.

  Harry was all he thought about, he couldn’t be gone. He just couldn’t.

  Then Tyler felt someone grab his arm.

  “Son, we have to get you on the chopper. Now!”

  “No, I can’t leave him.” Tyler shook his head and then looked to the soldier who reached for him.

  “I’m sorry, you have to go.” The soldier reached for Tyler, but the moment he tried to lift him, Tyler started fighting.

  “No!” Tyler screamed. He grabbed hold of Harry and held on for dear life.

  “Let go. We have to go!” With a hard jerk, the soldier yanked Tyler into his arms. He held his arm around Tyler’s waist.

  Tyler kicked, his hands reached out, the entire time. “Harry! Harry!” he cried, lacing the name with deep sobs.

  He was placed in a seat in the helicopter.

  “This yours?” the soldier asked and handed him the box.

  “It was Harry’s.” Tyler sobbed.

  “I’m sorry,” the soldier said solemnly and strapped Tyler in and closed the door.

  Tyler could still see out the window. He held onto the box, his vision blurry form the tears, his hand reaching for the window. As the helicopter lifted, he kept watching Harry

  ***

  Judith may not have been able to see very well, but she could hear. It wasn’t long after Foster and Manny left to get the medication, maybe a half an hour, before the young woman died. Her infant son was crying in the arms of a stranger instead of in the arms of a mother he would never know.

  The explosions wen
t from constant to occasional, the gunfire from rapid to slow.

  Then soon there was only a pop of a gun here and there until suddenly it was silent.

  After hours upon hours of gun fire, there was silence at last.

  The silence was broken when a lone voice began singing The Star Spangled Banner. Then everyone joined in. Judith couldn’t sing. More so than ever before, the song made her cry. She sat alone in the corner of the room, her head down, her arms folded close to her body and cried.

  Foster never returned.

  Manny never returned.

  She heard someone say it was well after three AM, and she was sick to her stomach.

  She kept asking, “Has anyone seen Foster? Did he return?”

  No one had seen him. Foster would have found her if he had returned.

  She allowed herself to feel hopeful when she heard the eruption of cheers in the shelter. But the hope was short lived. It was US soldiers and allied forces saying that the battle above them was over and they had pushed the enemy back.

  They were evacuating the bomb shelter.

  Angeline took hold of Judith’s arm and told her she was helping her out. As she started to go, Judith stopped. “I need the notebook. Can you go see if Foster left his notebook in our room please? He wrote in it all the time.”

  “Sure,” Angeline said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Judith rubbed her arms. Her entire being ached for a boy she had met not long ago but ended up loving as if she had known him a lifetime. They had shared quite a bit.

  “Here,” Angeline said. “It’s right here.” She placed the notebook in Judith’s hand.

  Judith embraced it as if it were Foster and placed her lips to the edge of the pages.

  “Let’s go.” Angeline guided her.

  Judith only nodded. She was guided by Angeline out of the shelter. The entire way out, instead of cheering like the others, Judith wept.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  THREE MONTHS LATER

  Las Vegas, NV