Author's Notes: Another chapter! Hooray! Thank you for the reviews, they are great!
For those with ballistic background, I could not for the life of me figure out what caliber of casing Jake picked up in the ER at Rogue River, so I consulted my in-house experts and we made a command decision. If you come up with a better answer, please leave me a comment!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I still do not own any of the characters that appeared on the CBS show Jericho. No copy write infringement intended.
Chapter XIV: Rogue River
November 1, 2006
Bombs + 52 Days
Jake picked Hope up at the Bennett farm and they arrived at the hospital bright and early. They were surprised to find Eric waiting with Peter.
"April thinks she has the flu. She asked me to go in her place," Eric explained as Hope got into the back seat with Peter and he got into the front with Jake. "She gave me a list." He waved a piece of paper in the air.
"Of course she did," Jake said with an eye roll that earned him a playful punch in the arm from Hope. They all laughed and were soon their way.
The trip was quiet and uneventful. About 30 miles out, they passed the scene of a fatal accident. Jake wouldn't stop, and suggested it had been an ambush. The others shuddered at how the world had changed. They were all armed for the trip, just in case.
As they drove into the town of Rogue River almost two hours later, they were surprised at the eerie vacancy. No one was there at all. The homes on the outskirts of town bore strange markings in spray paint on the doors.
"What do those markings mean," Hope asked. She wasn't altogether sure she wanted to know.
"Those homes were evacuated 10/25," Jake answered grimly, "By FEMA. That means they came through a month after the bombs."
"Well, in FEMA is here, there is still some sort of government," Eric said hopefully.
"As of a week ago," Jake responded.
"What are the other numbers," Peter asked.
"The zero is the number they found alive, and the two is the number they found dead." Jake answered somberly.
Hope looked out of the window as they drove on through town, trying to digest what Jake had said. As they passed the vintage dress shop where Heather had purchased her wedding dress, Hope thought back on that day and the friendly lady who had helped them. What had become of her? The spray paint on the door said 0/0. She had not been found dead in the shop. Had she died at home? Or had she been taken to the FEMA camp? Neither option sounded all that good to Hope. Once again, she was thankful to live in Jericho.
Upon reaching the hospital, they noticed brightly colored fliers littering the ground.
"We're going to go in, we're going to get the medicine, and we're going to get out," Jake admonished them as they exited the car. They each responded in the affirmative.
"The Federal Emergency Management Agency has determined that radioactive fallout from the blast in Lawrence, Kansas has contaminated the water table of this region," Eric read from one of the fliers he had picked up. "Under no circumstances should water from any taps or wells be consumed. Well, I guess that explains why this place is empty."
The four of them shook their heads, continuing on toward the emergency department entrance of the facility. The automatic doors had been prized open. They paused to take a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dim interior. Even without electricity, they could tell the place was in disarray. As they started down the hall toward the pharmacy, Peter tripped and fell onto the floor.
"Oh, no!" Peter cried. His eyes now better adjusted, and at floor level, he could see dead bodies littering the floor. He scrambled to his feet. "What happened here?" He asked the others, badly shaken.
"You OK?" Jake asked, helping him up. Jake leaned over and picked up a shell. "308," he said. "From an automatic weapon.
"I didn't know Rogue River had a SWAT team," Eric commented.
"They don't," Jake responded. "These guys aren't cops. They're government contractors; private army. A firm called Ravenwood."
"What are mercenaries doing in Kansas?" Hope asked.
"Same thing they've been doing in Iraq and New Orleans," Jake answered. "The military has been stretched so thin the past few years that mercenaries have become a commodity."
"Let's just get the drugs and go," Hope said, already regretting having volunteered for this field trip.
They continued to the pharmacy on the ground floor and chose what they needed. Peter voiced an interest in checking out the operating room on the second floor in search of anesthesia. Jericho had very little because they had traditionally shipped out surgical cases.
"Alright," Jake agreed, "But we're going to make it quick."
They went up the back stairs single file, Jake in the lead and Eric bringing up the rear. They each had their weapons at the ready. The eerie silence continued until they opened the door to the operating suite. Then, they could hear out-of-tune singing.
"Who's in there?" Jake called out as they continued in.
"It's just me," responded an inebriated man with a British accent. "I need more bloody light," he continued.
As they came into the range of the singer, they could see that he was performing surgery on a corpse by the light of a lantern.
"I'm Jake," Jake called out. "We're here to get medicine."
"Dr. Kenchy Dhuwalia," the singer responded. "Forgive me if I don't shake your hand."
"We're looking for anesthetics," Peter told the doc.
"Right; morphine's worth a lot more, you know," he retorted.
"Hey, we're not selling it, we need it now," Jake replied forcefully.
"I couldn't even save one," Dr. Dhuwalia cried, taking off his gloves and turning from the corpse. "You might as well take the medicine. Ravenwood will be back soon and take everything anyway. It's in the metal lockbox against the wall."
Peter and Hope went to work on getting the medications. Jake further questioned Dr. Dhuwalia.
"So what happened to these people here, anyway?" Jake asked him.
"Too old. Too sick. One of those guys snapped and started shooting. Then they all were emptying their weapons. And they will be back soon to take everything of value. You should go." Dr. Dhuwalia responded dully.
"And what about you," Jake asked. He recognized PTSD when he saw it. The doc had seen things far beyond the scope of his training. He wasn't thinking clearly, and he had been drinking besides.
"You can come back to Jericho with us if you like. It isn't perfect, but it's better than this," Jake suggested. "We could use the help of a surgeon."
Dr. Dhuwalia made a sound somewhere between a snort and a cough. "I'm a plastic surgeon. I did that so I could have a simple, easy life. There are other men for what you ask."
"Not any more, there aren't." Jake gave him a hard look before asking, "Are you coming, or not?"
Dr. Dhuwalia shrugged one shoulder, then picked up his backpack from behind the desk and followed Eric as the group returned to the car.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
It was a tight fit, but Peter, Hope and Dr. Dhuwalia managed to squeeze into the back seat. The smell of stale alcohol was strong. They kept the windows down as they drove to the Walmart distribution center. Dr. Dhuwalia dozed. Perhaps the first time he had felt safe sleeping in weeks.
"It looks untouched," Eric said as they pulled up to the warehouse which was poorly marked and nestled amongst other buildings in an industrial park. Jake drove around the three accessible sides to be sure they were alone, and then parked close to a small side door.
"Make it quick," Jake advised, as Eric and Peter exited the car and approached the door. Making as little noise as possible, they broke the padlock and disappeared inside.
It seemed like an eternity to Jake and Hope, but it was probably only 15 minutes before Eric and Peter returned, each carrying a medium-sized box. They deposited the boxes into the trunk while Jake replaced the padlock on the door, hoping it would look untouched to the casual observer.
It was another short drive to the extension office. Dr Dhuwalia was now snoring and leaning onto Hope's shoulder.
"Are you sure this was a good idea," Eric asked Jake, indicating their sleeping passenger.
"No, not entirely," Jake responded. "But we couldn't leave him there; that would have been a death sentence. If we can get him dried out and talking with Eleanor, he might just turn out to be the best resource we could have retrieved on this trip.
When they arrived at the extension office, Jake went in with Hope. She had decided not to look for plants in light of the contaminated water table; not worth the risk. She had visited before, and made her way straight to the seed storage area. She began looking at each seed packet, and Jake shook his head. He found a garbage bag under the sink and returned.
"OK, you win," Jake said with a grin. "Scoop 'em all into here. We'll take them all home with us."
Hope returned his grin and they scooped all of the packets into the bag. They made it back to the car well within Hope's allotted 10 minutes, and were soon on the road again.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
It was approaching four in the afternoon by the time they had dropped Peter and the drugs off at the Medical Center and Dr. Dhuwalia off at the school shelter. Jake, Eric and Hope continued on to drop Eric off at home and report to Johnston.
Johnston was sitting up on the couch when they arrived. It was the first day April had deemed him healthy enough to be out of bed and not contagious to the children. They played on the floor in front of the fire under Gail's watchful eye. Jake and Eric filled him in while Hope visited with Gail.
"How is April feeling?" Hope asked.
Gail shook her head. "Better. She went from throwing up this morning to insisting that she felt better and needed to go in and help at the Medical Center. I just don't understand that girl some times."
"Did we miss anything here?" Hope asked.
Gail nodded to the men, who had just reached the same point in their conversation.
"So Jimmy comes by at lunchtime to check on me," Johnston was saying. "In the course of our conversation, he tells me that Grey Anderson has concerns about the new folks in town and decided to pay a visit to Robert Hawkins and his family today."
Jakes eyes grew wide. "What?" He asked incredulously.
"Apparently, it was supposed to be a secret," Johnston continued, "But Jimmy really didn't feel comfortable with that. Once he got started, he couldn't wait to tell me the whole story. I guess Mr. Hawkins played Grey pretty well."
Jake shook his head, amazed at the audacity of Grey and the fact that he was unfortunate enough to pick Mr. Hawkins to question. "No doubt Mr. Hawkins can hold his own against Grey," Jake said with a snicker. He had not filled his Father in on all he knew about Mr. Hawkins, largely because things had been happening rapidly and the Johnston had been ill. He would have to decide if and what to say.
As Jake and Hope headed toward the door to go home, Eric got up to remove his jacket. He automatically reached for his wallet, but it wasn't in the pocket where it usually lived.
"My wallet must have fallen out in the car," Eric said, as he walked out with them. "It does that sometimes."
A thorough search of the car and trunk revealed no wallet. Eric's eyes grew big. "What if it fell out in the hospital?" he asked. "My driver's license is in it. Those mercenaries were going back to clean out the hospital. What if they find it and come here?"
"Calm down, Eric," Jake said reassuringly. "Get some sleep; we'll worry about it tomorrow. Just don't mention it to Dad tonight."
Eric nodded. "Good night," he said as we walked back toward the house.
"Good night," Jake and Hope called after him.
Once they were back in the car, Jake drove back toward the Tacoma Bridge rather than toward the Green Ranch.
"Just alerting the Rangers," Jake replied when Hope raised her eyebrows at him.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
As it turned out, finding the Green horse farm in Bowling Green, Kentucky, wasn't difficult. Grant stopped the procession about 10 miles north of town to inquire. Not only did that family know the Green family, they were in contact with them via short wave radio.
"They are about six miles further on down this road," the farmer told them. "I told them to meet you in about an hour. You can't miss the sign."
After an hour of following green pastures fenced with crisp white fencing, they came to a driveway with an archway that read Green Family Horse Farm.
A man bearing a passing resemblance to Johnston Green was waiting for them on a beautiful quarter horse.
Sharon Brady stood up in the buggy as soon as it had stopped. "I am Sharon Green Brady," she announced. "I believe you will have met my nephew Jake and his wife, Heather?"
"Yes, of course," the man responded with a nod. "I am Shane Green. Follow me up to the house and we can get acquainted." He turned and cantered up the lane on his horse.
When they reached the plantation-style home at the end of the lane, Shane stopped and the others follow suite. As they all got to the ground, a handful of farm hands materialized to care for the animals.
Shane took a moment to observe the newly arrived group. "You all look like hell," he said bluntly with an obvious southern drawl. "Come on into the house and get cleaned up. Donna is making dinner." He turned and walked up the path and through the front door.
The members of the New York contingency paused to exchanged glances, not sure what to make of this less than friendly reception.
Grant shrugged his shoulders. "Well, we don't have a lot of choices. Let's get cleaned up and have dinner." He started toward the house and the others followed.
By the time they had entered the house, a middle-aged woman had come from the back of the house drying her hands on a kitchen towel.
"Welcome to our home, I'm Donna Green," she said warmly, also with a southern drawl. "Come on in and I will show you to the rooms we have available. I've made stew and cornbread, I hope that will do. I didn't have much notice that all y'all were coming."
Grant stepped forward. "Mrs. Green, we are just delighted to locate you, and anything you can offer us to eat will be wonderful. Thank you for your hospitality, especially under such short notice, and under these circumstances," Grant motioned to indicate the bombs.
By this point, she had led the party upstairs. "Fortunately, all the kids have moved out and gotten settled in their own houses. I have a few extra bedrooms now," she said with a wink at the younger boys. She pointed out four bedrooms with various bed and couch options that would be able to house the group. She also pointed out two bathrooms and advised them to return downstairs when they were refreshed so they could eat dinner.
Dinner was served at the long farm table in the kitchen. Large bowls of rich beef stew with potatoes and carrots were passed around with chunks of cornbread and fresh butter. There was clearly plenty, and they each ate heartily. Shane and Donna were the only ones from the farm to join the gathering.
"So, tell us how you came to be here," Donna said once the eating had slowed down. It was clear to her that these people hadn't seen a proper meal in days, so she had allowed them to eat before formal introductions. Grant proceeded to tell their story. Shane listened with interest, but did not have much to say.
"So, we've been on the road about a month," Grant concluded, "and we have about two more months to go. The weather is getting colder, so we thought dropping south might be a wise idea. Sharon thought we might be able to locate you here in Kentucky, so here we are."
"Well, we certainly are glad to meet you," Donna said with a warm smile. "We so enjoyed getting to know Jake and Heather a few years ago, along with the family members from Ireland! Isn't it amazing how we lose track of cousins in just a few generations? Now that we've all eaten, let's get properly introduced. You know who we are, but I don't know you yet."
Grant went around the group and introduced everyone. Donna nodded and smiled, Shane took everything in.
"And what are your plans now?" Donna asked.
"It certainly is warmer here than it was further north," Grant told her. "We heard that both Lawrence, Kansas and St. Louis had been hit, so we thought we'd stay south of the I-70 and head west from here on smaller roads. Less road danger and it's easier on the horses."
"Why, that's it!" Shane exclaimed, startling them all. "You are the answer to prayer!"
"You'll have to excuse Shane," Donna interjected affectionately. "He spends too much time with the horses, and he tends to be a bit bashful around people until he gets to know them. What were you thinking, Shane?" She asked inquisitively.
"Jake and I were in the middle of a horse trade when the bombs went off," he explained eagerly. "Jake had sent me four of his horses last spring, and I was supposed to send him four of ours in October. But the bombs dropped in September, and I hadn't been able to make good on my end of the bargain. He told me not to worry about it, but that's just not in my nature."
"Wait a minute," Miranda interrupted, "Jake told you? You've spoken with Jericho? How can that be?"
Shane looked at her in puzzlement. "Well, of course we have spoken to Jericho; and quite a few other folks that chose to become prepared. We get news from Ireland and France as well. We speak with them every Friday using a HAM radio. Have you not spoken with them?"
"No, we haven't," Miranda retorted, almost giddy with the prospect of speaking with Skyler, or at least sending her a message. "Our 16 year old daughter was on her own there while we were visiting New York. Would it be possible to contact her now?"
"Well," Shane considered, looking at the rapidly setting sun, "It's getting a little late in the day. We can go over to my son's house in the morning and see if we can get through. Tomorrow is Thursday, so it is a day early, but I think Jericho has their radio in the Sherriff's office so they can monitor it all the time. Ours is just at my son's house, and we use it for emergencies or pre-scheduled check-ins. We then pass the information on to the other folks in our group."
"Thank you, that will be perfect," Miranda said graciously. Her mind was already spinning with the conversation she hoped to have with Skylar.
"By the way," Grant said, bringing them back to topic, "We would be happy to do anything we can toward helping you with your horse trade. What do you have in mind?"
"If you could take those horses with you, I'd be in your debt," Shane responded. "I'll send along plenty of food for them as well as for your current horses. What else can we do for you in return for your kindness?"
Well," Grant began, amazed at this turn of events that might help them reach Jericho without extreme hardship, "We are running pretty short on food. Don't know how you folks are situated . . ."
"Oh, we're doing very well, all things considered," Shane replied with a laugh. "This is a farm, after all. Our children and their families live on the land here. We all work together to raise farm animals and a big garden in addition to the horses. And we put by quite a bit after we spoke with Jake and Heather. We can set you up for the trip home." Shane looked to Donna, as though he was trying to recall something important. "Isn't there a town in Missouri that made preparations? Someone's cousins? West of Springfield, I think."
"Yes, I believe so," Donna replied with a smile, pleased that Shane had overcome his reticence and was participating in the conversation. Having a husband that was the strong, silent type had its drawbacks. "Perhaps we can look into it tomorrow. I'm sure all y'all will be wanting to see some friendly faces by the time you get there."
"That sounds wonderful," Grant assured her, as they all agreed. "We can't thank you enough for your hospitality and kindness."
"This is the south," Donna said dismissively. "Hospitality is what we do; and you're family, anyway." Her eyes twinkled as she smiled at the group.
They enjoyed pecan pie and coffee as they enjoyed further conversation. Soon it was time to head to bed.
"I hope y'all will come outside tomorrow and see the place," Shane said as they all stood up from the table. "I'd take pleasure in showing you around."
"We'd love to," Grant responded sincerely, as other members of the group agreed. Although it had been slow getting to know him, they were enjoying his dry wit and interesting stories. Donna's southern charm – and cooking – had made her a favorite from the beginning.
Additional Author's Note: I'm sorry, I could not think of any other way for Ravenwood to follow them to Jericho than to have Eric lose his wallet. I really tried. And I still think Eric was kind of a putz at this point in the story. Not sure if he will be able to overcome that issue . . .
The next chapter is already coming together in my mind. Shouldn't be too long of a wait.