But no one was at the hospital. Not a soul alive there. It did look as though people had been there. It was getting late and Foster decided it was better to wait until morning to look for help.
He just didn’t know what to do. He really didn’t. He was over his head and most of the injured just whimpered.
Judith said her eyes hurt, but she couldn’t speak for anyone else. She didn’t whimper; she was strong and Foster really wanted to speak to her. But she already had enough on her plate without listening to his woes.
They’d all sleep in the bus; it would be cold, but there wasn’t really much Foster could do about it.
He did his best to feed them and give them water. He moved nonstop and truth be known, Foster was tired. He just wanted to sleep.
Abby had found a bottle of booze in one of the houses and had taken to sipping that.
Foster didn’t want to deal with her. She wasn’t helping and didn’t say much.
She was almost a hindrance, at least mentally for Foster, she was.
Maybe she was tired like he was and maybe it was all just finally getting to her.
Foster sat in the driver’s seat of the bus. He could see her sitting outside, just sitting there. He couldn’t worry about her.
He turned his body some, getting as comfortable as he could and tried to sleep.
The next day, he believed, things would be different for everyone.
While Harry had a comfortable home and bed, he wasn’t venturing far from the door, the basement or Tyler. He made the boy a bed on the sofa and caught few winks in the chair. It wasn’t like he was doing anything new since Harry often fell asleep in that chair.
He had packed his bag with clothes and pictures and was ready to leave first thing in the morning.
The present for Leo, still semi wrapped, was placed in the car with his and Tyler’s belongings. They needed only to wake, wash up, eat a little and they would be on their way.
Harry figured with minimal traffic they’d be in Ohio by the next evening.
He hoped though, they would run into someone with answers.
After what he referred to as a strong nap in the chair, Harry did what he had been doing all night. He turned on the radio and waited for the Utah man to give a report.
Nothing was new, and the man in Utah was frustrated by lack of news coming from anywhere.
According to the Utah radio guy, a good part of America was in the dark, and people were told to stay inside.
The attacks weren’t over yet.
Harry figured whoever was doing it was hell bent on knocking the United States out of commission before invasion. They hit New York and probably Washington DC. Harry could only guess.
He prayed that he’d get more answers in the morning.
He planned on going north for a spell and then heading east, completely avoiding New York City or anywhere close to it. He needed to be cautious; he had a child with him. Harry was worried and he didn’t want Tyler to know that. In fact, Harry was worried as he sat in his own home that night. Something about everything, just didn’t sit right. For that reason, Harry dug out his old pistol that he stored in a lock box on top of his closet.
It had been years since he touched it and Harry wasn’t even sure if it still fired.
But something about having it near made him feel a bit more secure. Harry needed to feel that to get through the night and prepare for the next day.
Lana turned slightly on the chaise lounge and the pain in her back made her cringe and wake. She was cold, very cold. She lifted the covers as she turned to lie on her back. A blip of the sun made her blink. It was very bright and Lana sat up. “Ben, I think…”
One breath seeped from her body, hard and heavy as she gazed to the horizon.
“Ben.” She reached over blindly for him. “Ben.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“What’s happening?”
Ben sat up and rubbed his eyes.
On the horizon were ships. Five or six air craft carriers seemed to be moving closer.
There across the morning sky it looked like something from the Alfred Hitchcock movie,
More planes than Lana and Ben could count flew from behind the ships across the sky and toward the shore.
“Are they ours?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Probably.” And then just as Ben had delivered his response, a plane broke formation and within seconds, opened fire. Bullets hit the earth in a straight line from the beach toward the house.
Lana screamed.
Ben grabbed hold of her and pulled her from the chair to the deck. “Get inside. Go!” he ordered.
The crawled quickly as the bullets ripped through the deck.
The glass of the patio door shattered and Lana covered her head. She heard and felt the bullets as they ripped into the carpeting. “Ben!”
The sound of firing trailed off and then… Another plane, another set of bullets.
Ben grabbed Lana. “Bedroom!” he yanked her as hard as he could, pulling her to her feet.
She stumbled, tripping as she raced in a low crawl toward the back bedroom.
More bullets ripped through the windows.
