Day 8: Haley
“Come on, Braden.” I tried to pull him up, but my muscles strained and the nausea came back again.
He whimpered.
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” We exhausted all the pain meds I’d packed, down to the few left from Zane’s first-aid kit. I couldn’t imagine how much pain Braden was in, trudging these long miles toward the hospital with a knife wound.
“We’re almost there, I promise.”
His expression was bleak. We started our slow, awkward trek. He could walk, but it caused him so much pain that we had to stop every half-mile.
Today should be our last day. It had to be. We were low on food and water. I was queasy and numb from the cold, and Braden — I didn’t think he could survive another day.
“How much…farther?” Braden asked through clenched teeth.
“I think about a mile, sweetie. We can do this. We’re almost there.”
“What if…what if there’s…nothing…there?”
“Stop. We can’t think like that. There has to be something. They wouldn’t have broadcasted the message if there wasn’t something there.” I bit my lip. I was worrying the same thing, but I couldn’t let him know how terrified I was of what would happen if we didn’t find help. And soon.
Snow and ice covered everything. It had finally stopped snowing, but stayed bitterly cold. My face burned from the chill of the wind, my fingers felt stiff in my gloves, and my toes seemed to blur into one numb mass. Inches of snow had turned familiar streets into a different planet. I knew that we’d been to the Linvalley Hospital at least once, hoping that just one more doctor could tell us why I couldn’t conceive.
We’d tried for six years to conceive, but none of the treatments worked. It was a blessing in disguise, I suppose. At least we didn’t have to drag a child through this hell with us.
Finally, I spotted something familiar — the café where Braden took me after the appointment. The hospital had to be close!
“Braden, look! That’s the—“I stopped, nearly tripping over Jaxx and dropping Braden in the process. The German Shepherd had stopped dead in his tracks, ears up and fur standing straight on his back.
Then, I heard it too. There was some kind of vehicle fighting its way down an adjacent street.
I quickly shuffled Braden behind a pile of snow, grabbed Jaxx by the collar, and forced him down next to us. My fingers lingered over the holster on my hip.
It was some kind of ambulance, but black with what looked like…the CDC logo on it! I jumped out and waved my arms. “Help! Please help us!”
The window rolled down and I heard, “Haley?” I knew that voice. The door opened and an older man stepped out.
“Russ?” We worked together at Oxborough. He was a philosophy professor.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but my husband is not. Are you on your way to Linvalley Hospital?”
“We are. Come on, we still have some room. Let me help you.” Russ got on the other side of Braden and helped me pull him up.
“It’s okay, Braden. We’re gonna get there. Everything’s going to be okay.”
As soon as we came close to the hospital, a horde of soldiers ambushed the truck.
“EVERYONE OUT OF THE VEHICLE. NOW.”
Shocked and numb, we climbed out slowly, hands in the air.
“Please,” I pleaded. “My husband is hurt. He needs help.”
“THE HOSPITAL IS OVER CAPACITY. WE ARE NOT ACCEPTING ANYONE ELSE.”
My head spun. We had come so far. This couldn’t be happening.
“Please, you have to help him. He’s been stabbed. We’ve walked four days – please!”
“Listen, buddy.” The younger woman from the truck, Russ called her Anya, stepped up to the soldier in charge. “We’ve been trudging through hell for eight days to get here. Your stupid radio message called for survivors to come to the Linvalley Hospital, and now you’re turning us away?”
“MA’AM.”
“Don’t you ‘ma’am’ me! This man was freakin’ stabbed! The rest of us are starving and frost-bitten. Do your job and help us.”
The voices seemed to blur together. We couldn’t have come this far for nothing.
Anya was yelling. The soldiers were yelling. Russ was trying defuse the situation. His daughter was clutched to Jaxx, who sat protectively in front of us.
Soon we were horded into some type of waiting area. Before I could process what was happening, Braden was whisked away. I tried to run after him, but Russ caught my arm.
“They’ll care for him, Haley.”
“TAKE A SEAT. EVERYONE WILL BE SCREENED FOR DISEASE.”
Medical personnel swarmed us, drawing blood mechanically then rushing it away.
“Anya?” came a voice from across the tent. It was the girl from the woods. Zane stood next to her, insistently waving an empty pill bottle in a doctor’s face.
“Moira?” Anya walked toward her, but a man in medical gear blocked my view.
“You are all cleared of the Farmer’s Flu. Your results were negative.”
“Even mine?” Russ asked, eyes wide.
“Yes, sir.” Russ hugged his daughter tighter, his eyes brimming over with tears.
“But ma’am,” the doctor looked right at me. “I’m afraid your husband’s test came back positive.”
“…What?”
A nurse tapped him on the shoulder and slipped a piece of paper into his palm.
“Oh. Well, um…it also appears you’re pregnant. Erm…congratulations.”
“I…wait…” My head spun. I fell back into the chair; Russ tried to steady me. “That’s not…I can’t…Braden…” I couldn’t breathe. Now tears spilled down my cheeks.
“We transferred him to a secure wing of the hospital. You can see him in a few minutes.”
“Haley—“ Russ sounded underwater. Zane stepped into the tent, spotted us, and pulled us outside. We rounded the back of the facility to where Anya and Moira stood, looming over a hunk of machinery sitting in the dirt.
“I found it in one of the military tents.” Anya said. “It’s the radio broadcaster.”
We all stared blankly for a moment at the radio that drew us here today. Then Anya slammed the heel of her boot down into the radio. The aluminum casing crumpled beneath her foot. Soon we were all smashing it, stomping on circuits until it was completely destroyed.
I dropped to my knees: exhausted, cold, beaten, alone – pregnant. Jaxx nudged my cheek.
I turned to Russ. “What do we do now?”
“Begin at the beginning and go until you come to the end: then stop,” he said.
Allison Cleary is a second year student majoring in secondary English education. Veronica Mattaboni is a third year student majoring in English writing. She can be reached at VM785925@wcupa.edu.