One Second After [50]
John nodded, took the turnoff onto 70, then headed west again, weaving around stalled cars, under the bridge for the Blue Ridge Parkway, and just past that, on their right, were the grounds of the veterans hospital.
They pulled through the gate, and John's heart sank. Somehow, he had hoped that here, a veterans hospital, a federal facility, maybe there
was a miracle, a hardened generator, or at least some semblance of normal life, of orderliness. He half-expected to see troops lined up guarding the place.
Instead it was elderly patients scattered on the lawn, some lying on blankets, others just wandering about. A lane had been cleared of stalled cars approaching the highway, a "rent-a-cop" holding a shotgun standing in the middle of the road, motioning them to stop.
John leaned out as the cop came cautiously around to the side of the car, shotgun half-leveled.
"I'm Colonel John Matherson," he announced, feeling a bit self-conscious using that title again. He was so used to being called Professor or Doc these last few years, but Washington had advised him to revert to his old title for this trip.
"I live in Black Mountain. And this is Charlie Fuller, our director of public safety. In the backseat there is Sergeant Washington, a retired marine, and a couple of students from the college."
The cop nodded, saying nothing, but he turned the gun away from John.
"We're heading into Asheville to try and find out some information. Is anything running here? Electricity?" "Nope. No power. You folks got any?" "No, sir."
"Is there anyone in charge here who knows what's going on? Contact with Raleigh or Washington?" Again the cop shook his head. "Damn."
"Yeah, damn," the cop replied. "It's hell inside there. These old guys dying off left and right. Wouldn't think they could die so fast when without medicine for a few days."
John thought of the nursing home, of Tyler. He had been nervous about leaving Jen and the girls alone with Tyler. But Ben had become something of a permanent fixture at the house, and John's across-the-street neighbors Lee Robinson and his wife, Mona, parents of Seth and Pat, had volunteered to come up and give Jen some time off to sleep.
Tyler, of course, was failing. There was no IV, no oxygen, just pouring Ensure and water into him through his stomach tube. The agony was no painkillers. It was a blessing perhaps that the few days of neglect had pushed him to the edge of a coma. But when he was conscious John could see the agony in Tyler's eyes. Jen had stayed up through the night, and just before John left, Mona had walked up to lend a hand.
John looked around again at the grounds, the patients, a few nurses lugging buckets of water up from a creek at the edge of the hospital grounds. He could only imagine what it was like inside; it was already turning into one hell of a hot day.
"I think we best head into town," Charlie said.
The cop nodded.
"Good luck. And tell people up there we really need help here," the cop said. "Some of the staff, the doctors and nurses, have stayed on, but a lot left, and hardly anyone has come back."
"Why are you here ?" John asked out of curiosity.
"Somebody came in yesterday and said a couple of the nursing homes in the area were hit by druggies. Well, there's a lot of that stuff inside that building. Figure they need some protection. Besides, I was a marine, took one at Hue, 1968. Those are my comrades in there. I don't have no family to worry about, so I guess these guys are my family."
He then thumped his left leg and there was a hollow echo.
"Semper fi," Washington said, and he leaned out the open window and shook the guard's hand.
"Some advice," Washington then said. "Don't stand out in the middle of the road. Set up some sort of road barrier and keep to one side; use a stalled car as protection. I could have blown you away before you even blinked."
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