By Way of Autumn Page 3

  Blindly, I reached for my purse and tossed it to Josh. “Look at mine.”

  “Want me to go in your purse?”

  “Yes.”

  He undid the fastener and reached in. “Here.” He pulled it out. “Dead.”

  “Shit.” My foot moved to the brake and I slowed down to a near crawl, then finally stopped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Something must have happened twice. Once early this morning, and then again just before we saw the flash. It had to have.” I said. “We couldn’t get a signal, we didn’t see anyone. Now this. “

  “What do you think it is?” Josh asked.

  “I’m not an expert. I’m just gonna guess. Sounds like an EMP. Maybe two. I can’t figure out why the phones lost signal first. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

  “What is an EMP?” He asked.

  “Electro mag … something pulse.”

  Julie corrected me. “Electromagnetic pulse. Seriously, dude, you really never heard of an EMP?”

  “No, seriously,” Josh said. “I don’t pay attention to that science shit.”

  “It’s history shit,” Julie argued.

  “Julie,” I called her name. One minute flirtatious, the next irritated.

  “Mom, it’s just that anyone who ever watched a sci-fi movie, reads or passed science, should know what one is.”

  My daughter was a good student and a bookworm. It made sense that she knew.

  “Okay,” Josh looked back to her then to me. “Pretend I’m illiterate and tell me.”

  I explained. “It knocks out all electronics. Theoretically, what was running when it hit will never run again. Our phones were on, you were driving. Now they don’t work. This car was off. It works. It’s what makes sense.”

  Josh further questioned, “What causes it?”

  I shrugged. “Lots. Not sure. I know a nuclear weapon does.”

  Julie added, “So does the sun. But the biggest classification is an X flare, and even the biggest really wouldn’t do this. It has to be a weapon. A nuke.”

  “A nuclear weapon?” Josh said with a hint of sarcasm. “Did you see the size of that fucking fireball? That’s one big bomb.”

  “Josh,” I scolded, as if his swearing really mattered at that moment. “I’m not saying it was. Just guessing. Can you think of anything else that could hit this widespread? You have a better guess?”

  “Aliens.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s better.”

  “Getting back to Falcon is the best way to find out,” Josh said. “Maybe everything is fine there and they are watching the news. Whatever it was, will be on the news.”

  I agreed and put the car back in gear and drove on the road. It was thirty miles to home and I would take it slow the entire way, just on the outside chance that whatever had occurred, happened again. I wanted to be in control of the vehicle if it suddenly went dead.

  <><><><>

  There’s something to be said about wishful thinking, hoping that something will change. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Under that definition, I was insane.

  I checked not only my phone, but also the radio dozens of times in those first miles. I needed to hear something, know anything. My eyes shifted to the rearview mirror to make sure Tag was still buckled in, then Julie who had instantly calmed down. She stared out the window, biting on the nail of her index finger. She looked deep in thought, not crying or freaking out. In fact I was willing to bet she was thinking about the situation, wishing with all her might she could pull out her phone and hit the internet for research. She looked more ‘together’ than Josh. Had I not known my daughter as well as I did, I would have sworn she took a pill or something. Radio, phone, passenger’s, continuously making sure my car hadn’t lost power.

  Between doing all that, I didn’t look ahead.

  “Watch out!” Josh shouted.

  Instinctively, my foot slammed on the brake. What driver doesn’t slam the brake, no matter what speed they travel when someone shouts out?

  Right before me was proof enough why I was doing the right thing by driving slow.

  Josh wasn’t the only one to lose power to his vehicle. Typically, a vehicle would just putter out, slow down, but not when going down a grade with many turns.

  The sight of the older model minivan sickened me, because I knew a minivan meant a family. It had rolled. From what I could tell, it hit another car, and probably flipped in the air before careening against the side of the hill.

  Glass shattered everywhere; the car it struck was completely smashed on the driver’s side. Groceries scattered about the road. One of them had just gone shopping.

  My eyes were transfixed on the wreckage. I wanted to continue on, ignore it, more so because I was fearful of what I’d see.

  With a hard lump in my throat, I squeaked out. “Please everyone check their phone to see if we can get a hold of 911.”

  Julie answered. “It’s dead.”

  Then I heard Josh.

  “Oh my God.”

  I looked over at him, his eyes widened then his hands covered his face and his head lowered.

  “What … what … is it?”

  “Up head on the road.”

  Don’t look. Don’t look, I thought. Then I did.

  Ahead, a good thirty feet I saw the outline of a body. It was more than likely ejected from the vehicle.

  My stomach knotted, heart beat fast, and some sort of adrenaline immediately kicked in.

  I threw the car in park. “Julie, watch Tag. Josh, let’s go.” I opened my door.

  “Mommy? What you are doing?”

  “We need to see if anyone needs help.”

  “If they do … how?” Josh asked.

  “I don’t know. We’re ten miles from home, the clinic is there.” I stepped out of my car, paused and looked at the wreckage before me. Far enough away that I couldn’t see any details, or any more bodies other than the one on the road. I could barely swallow, my throat was swollen from anxiety.

  After we had stepped from the car, I looked over at Josh. “Check the car.”

  “Me?” He squealed in shock.

  “You’d rather check the minivan?”

  “No,” he replied.

  My first inkling was to move to the van, then I saw the body on the road more clearly. “Oh, God. Josh it’s a kid.”

  I raced as fast as I could down the road, hoping the child was alive. The closer I drew, I saw it was a boy, he lay on his side, back toward me. He could not have been any older than eight or nine. He wasn’t moving.

  When I arrived at him, I swore he looked as if he were sleeping. On his side, one arm crossed over, the other extended. I dropped to my knees, truly afraid to get a close look.

  My hand reached to his arm, and it was warm. I took that as a good sign at first, until I got a better look at his face.

  While there was very little blood, I knew by the color of his face, the child had been killed. My face tightened up, my trembling fingers reached for his neck, seeing if I could find a pulse.

  That portion of his body was cold. He wasn’t warm from life; he was warm from the sun.

  My insides twisted, turned and fought vomiting.

  I didn’t know the boy, but my heart broke right there for him. I couldn’t help it. I started to cry.

  I couldn’t just leave him there, but I didn’t know what to do.

  “Dead.” Josh called out. “The woman in the car is dead.”

  “Check the van.”

  “Are you serious?” Josh asked.

  Hand still on the boy’s body, I screamed. “Check the fucking van!”

  “Fine.”

  On that road, I had to think. What to do with the child? How to move him aside or take him? Leaving him there wasn’t an option. He was just a child.

  “Man and woman in the van are dead,” Josh shouted. “No kids.”

  No shit, I thought. He’s right here. />
  “Josh, I have blankets in the back of my SUV, can you grab one please?” I requested.

  Josh answered. I don’t know what he said, I was too engrossed in that moment.

  “I’m sorry little one,” I whispered, to the boy. “I am so …” Lifting my head, I saw the sickening sight of it. Off to the shoulder of the road, another ten feet ahead on its side.

  A car seat. A bigger one, not an infant seat.

  Oh, dear God, another child.

  “Grab both!” I shouted at Josh, then stood and blinked hard as if to squeeze the tears out of my eyes.

  What had happened? How and why did that minivan lose power at that exact moment on the road? The worst turn, steepest slope. Ten more seconds and they would have been fine.

  I prayed that car seat was empty. That maybe it wasn’t connected and that child stayed back from the shopping trip. I didn’t run to the car seat, I walked with trepidation.

  “Be empty. Be empty,” I repeated softly with each step.

  Just as I neared the back of the car seat, I saw not only a portion of an arm showing from the edge of the seat, I saw the abundance of curly blonde hair tainted red with blood.

  That was it. That knot in my gut, rolled up my chest and shot from my mouth before I could stop it. My own child kicked in the womb, as if to let me know ‘he’ was still alive.

  I didn’t vomit much. Never in my life had I had a reaction like that. I couldn’t look anymore. Even just a glimpse was enough to get me sick. I figured I’d go back, get a blanket and toss it over the seat before moving it.

  After wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I took a step.

  Whimper.

  I stopped. Froze.

  Another whimper. One of those ‘I am about to cry’ whimpers. Immediately I spun around and zoomed in on the car seat, then I raced to it.

  That portion of the arm moved outward then up and I lost all breath. The child was still alive.

  It was hard to say if it was a boy or girl, the clothing was neutral color and covered in blood. The toddler had a deep abrasion on the forehead. I didn’t have time to assess how badly the child was hurt. I just knew we needed to get help.

  I shouted out, “He’s alive!” and hurriedly grabbed for the seat. When I tried to lift it the little child looked at me and started to cry.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” I spoke soothingly. I wanted to take him out of the seat, but again, didn’t know how badly he was hurt. The seat was heavy and awkward, but I lifted it, as I did, Josh headed my way.

  “Here, I’ll carry it,” Josh said.

  “Let’s put him in the car, we’ll get him to town,” I said. We made the exchange, he handed the blanket to me, and then took the seat.

  When he did, I saw the other child on the side of the road.

  “Josh,” I said. “We have to move the other boy. We can’t just leave him there. Can you …”

  “Yeah, let me put this one in your SUV,” he said.

  I nodded. My insides shook, hands trembled, the child was alive and that erased, a little, of the heartache over the other boy. Blanket in hand, I walked to the older child and covered him until Josh could move him. Turning, that’s when I noticed. Julie wasn’t in the car with Tag.

  She was out on the road grabbing the groceries.

  “Julie, what the hell?” I asked and approached her. “What are you doing?”

  She had one full bag in her hand and was loading another. “You’ll thank me.”

  “For what? Taking from a family that died?”

  “They don’t need it.”

  “Julie!”

  “Mom, they had canned goods, box goods, and batteries. They were running, something happened.”

  “It doesn’t make it right. Stop it.”

  She ignored me and kept grabbing things.

  “Julie.”

  “Let me at least grab the water.”

  “No, you can’t …”

  “The child’s in the car,” Josh interrupted. “I’ll move the other boy. What are you doing, Julie?”

  She avoided answering him and grabbed more items.

  “She’s grabbing food from the road,” I answered. “As if we’re starving.”

  She turned and literally freaked out on us. In a way I never saw her act. “Something happened! The sky lit up. There was an EMP. These people were in a hurry. They were bugging out. Bugging out, Mom.” She then called down and grabbed two bottles of water. “They knew something we didn’t.”

  As if anything I said didn’t matter, she continued. I returned to the car.

  By the time I got there, the toddler in the seat was crying and Tag was holding his ears.

  “Let’s go home Marm.” Tag said. “Please.”

  “We’re leaving,” I started the car, watching as Josh carried the dead boy over near the van. Instantly I felt guilty for leaving the child’s body there, but there was nothing we could do. We had to get to town to get the injured baby some help.

  I laid on the horn. “Let’s go.” I said, even though they couldn’t hear me.

  Josh raced back to the vehicle, and then Julie, after lifting one more thing and placing it in the bag returned to us.

  She opened the back hatch, tossed in the items, then got in the back seat. “You’ll thank me,” she said.

  I wanted to reply with ‘I doubt it’, but I refrained. I focused only on driving around the wreckage and getting to town.

  SEVEN – TOUCHED

  For those who had never heard of Falcon’s Way, it was a great place to stop. An oasis out of nowhere when traveling the winding two lane route through the mountains.

  It took a good hour to get to a high tech medical care. Although Falcon Memorial was considered a hospital, I viewed it more as a clinic. A fifty bed facility with an urgent care and maternity ward. For things like broken bones, delivering a baby, minor injuries and the flu, they were hands down pretty decent. For more intricate illnesses and injuries, they sent you elsewhere.

  I worried about our injured toddler. Would he get the care he needed? It really was the only option. We determined he was a boy because he wore blue pull-ups instead of a diaper. That alone told me he was between the age of two and three. He cried and whimpered. I made Julie constantly try to keep him awake due to the head wound. The poor thing. Even if he knew how, he wasn’t speaking. I just wanted to cry for the family he lost and the life he’d never know.

  The nice thing about our town was a person could walk from one end to the other in twenty minutes. More than likely they would know the name of every person they saw.

  The plan was to walk. We’d head to the hospital, Josh would drop off me and the baby and he would leave to take Tag and Julie home. Then he’d check in with his mother and father. His family needed to know he was fine.

  However we still weren’t certain if we what experienced an hour before hand was an isolated incident or bigger than we wanted to admit.

  Pulling around that last bend just before town, I saw the flashing red and blue lights of a parked squad car.

  Josh perked up. “Police car is working. Falcon’s not affected.”

  “We can tell them about the accident.” I said and pulled toward town.

  Patrolman Bill Stevens waved his hand out, flagging me down.

  Hating to stop, I wound down my window. “Hey, Bill. I really can’t stop, it’s an emergency.”

  “Everything is, Tess,” he said. “I’m stopping everyone.”

  “There was a big accident ten miles back on seventy-four,” I said.

  He nodded toward the front end of my car. “I see.”

  “No, not me. Another. Big accident. It’s bad, Bill.”

  “We can’t head out, Tess. Have to hold fort here.”

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “I have a kid in the back, he’s hurt bad. Can I get through?’

  He looked into the car. “Jesus,” he commented when he saw the baby. “Yeah, go. Memorial is open.”

  Just as I was
thinking, ‘why wouldn’t it be’, Bill stopped me.

  “Tess, listen. You have one of the few working cars in town. Be careful and protect it. Okay?”

  I nodded, thanked him, and really didn’t think about what he said. I pulled forward, aiming for the turn to the micro hospital two blocks away.

  Julie must have. Because she asked, “Why didn’t you find out what was going on?”

  I looked at her through the mirror. “I don’t know. But at least Falcon is fine, right?”

  “No, I don’t think it is,” Julie replied.

  “Me either,” said Josh.” He mentioned you had one of the few working cars. He’s stopping people coming in. So he’s protecting the town.”

  To me that was silly. Protecting the town from what? It was when I hit the turn for the hospital that I realized, Falcon was struck as well. The stoplights were out, a telephone pole was down at the bend and we were detoured around because fire fighters were battling a blaze at Greco Plumbing.

  Julie was right. I should have asked. But getting help for the baby was foremost on my mind.

  I picked up the speed to get to the hospital. Whatever event had occurred rippled at least as far as our town. That told me it was big. Bigger than a quick answer a police officer would be able to give. It wasn’t going away and I’d find out soon enough what had happened.

  My priority was getting the baby to the hospital and getting Tag and Julie home and safe. Everything else was secondary for the time being.

  EIGHT – WAIT

  Why I was expecting things to be different at the hospital, I honestly didn’t know. The sliding double doors of the two story building were open. I suppose to allow sunlight in. Whether or not they had electricity or generators remained to be seen. Beyond those glass doors was darkness. But people moved in and out, and a security officer must have thought my vehicle was a temporary ambulance, because when I got out and lifted the car seat, he said to Josh, “Is that it for drop off?’

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Ok,” He pulled out a notebook from his pocket. “There’s a couple on fourth that need to be transported here, breathing problems from the heat.”

  “But I …”

  “Thanks.” He put away the notepad, placed it back in his pocket, and turned to me. “They’ll see you inside.”