Disclaimer: I still don't own any of the characters that appeared on the CBS version of Jericho. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: Again, this chapter got a lot longer than I had anticipated it would be, and it could have continued! Instead, the following chapter will be another of bonus content. Thank you for the reviews! Each one is greatly appreciated!
Chapter VIII: The Walls of Jericho
September 24, 2006
Bombs + 4 Days
Jake and Dennis gathered the others and returned to the Medical Center only to discover that they were short-staffed and Laura had volunteered to stay and help. Jake said he would return for her later and took the others home. He had the growing feeling that his life in the new post-apocalyptic world would consist of providing taxi-service via horse-drawn carriage. Not that that was the worst thing he could imagine doing with his time, he mused.
They made it back to Green Ranch in time for a late lunch and a brief nap before Jake had to start the trip back to town. It was a 6 mile drive – accomplished in a matter of minutes in a vehicle, but requiring an hour each direction now, since horses only traveled about 6 miles per hour while pulling a buggy. Jake made a mental note to institute a firm one-trip-to-town per day policy in the future. Two hours in a buggy was about his limit. Four hours was insanity.
When he reached the Medical Center and tied the horse out front, he went in through the front doors expecting to find the lobby quiet and Laura waiting for him. Instead, people were bustling around murmuring worriedly about radiation sickness. Apparently the Golf Squadron of the Jericho Rangers had been on duty. Shep Cale and Stanley had stopped a truck at Checkpoint #3 on Oak Street near the Salt Mine. The man in the car was trying to get to town, and was in pretty bad shape. They brought him to the Medical Center for evaluation. April and Laura were looking him over as Jake peered over the heads of the gathered staff.
Jake guessed Johnston and Gail had been notified of the man's arrival in town since they walked into the Medical Center just behind Jake and made their way to the man's bedside as April hooked the man up to the cardiac monitor and Laura applied an oxygen mask.
"Who is this man? Does anyone recognize him?" Johnston asked.
"Not so far," Eric answered, having materialized next to April. Perhaps he had come to take her home, Jake reasoned.
"Those burns. Does that mean that he was close to the blast?" Gail asked the question they all were thinking.
"Why'd he come to Jericho? It's a hell of a long way from Denver." Eric replied. No one knew any real answers.
"Maybe he's related to someone in town," Stanley reasoned.
The crowd began to disperse and Jake stepped forward into the room. He pulled on some exam gloves and started checking the man's pants pockets.
"Any ID?" Johnston asked.
"No. Just some keys, he doesn't even have a wallet." Jake replied. "We should check his vehicle."
"Is he going to be okay?" Eric asked.
"Depends on the dose that he got," April replied as she continued her assessment.
"Shep, you and Stanley should go wash up. Those clothes might still be contaminated." Gail advised. Shep had been standing in the background silently watching the scene unfold.
"There's a shower down the hall." April said absently. "I think that's all we can do for him tonight," she said, indicating that she was referring to the patient. "I should probably sleep here tonight, in case he needs something," she said apologetically to Eric. "If he becomes any more short of breath, I will need to intubate him and put him on a ventilator."
They followed Shep and Stanley out of the room. April went down the hall toward the nurse's station. Eric stopped Johnston to talk.
"Dad. We've got another situation. There's a finite supply of gas in the generator here. The ventilator won't run on solar and wind power, it requires the generator. Plus, there is only one ventilator in town, if this guy needs to be intubated. April said they never have intubated patients here for any length of time – they are always airlifted out to Rogue River. The baby was born earlier today, premature, and they had nowhere to send her. She would have died if April hadn't intubated her. April wasn't even sure if they could get the settings to work for a premature baby, since a different type of ventilator is used for babies."
Johnston was racked with a coughing spasm.
"You okay?" Eric asked.
"Yeah," Johnston said with a pause while he thought a moment. "Leave the gasoline problem to me. I think I may have a solution."
"What if more people come?" Eric asked apprehensively. "There's not enough gas to keep the clinic going indefinitely for everyone."
Are you saying we ought to turn people away?" Johnston asked him.
"No," Eric answered thoughtfully, "I'm saying we have limited resources. I think we should make sure we have enough resources for our own people. I know we prepared for this kind of situation, but one day we will run out of supplies. I think we should use what we have wisely."
"Well for right now let's just worry about gas for the generator and keeping these patients safe, alright?" Johnston asked.
April returned to where the group was gathered. "Some of the nurses are spooked. They're worried about contamination. I told them I didn't think they needed to worry, but I guess we don't know for sure."
"Honey, I'll do anything I can to help you," Gail said to her. "Would you like me to stay here with you tonight?"
"Yes, please," April said thankfully. "If you could, please keep an eye on our mystery guest. Then I can see to the other patients."
"Sure," Gail said, returning to the room and starting to take another set of vital signs.
"And hope to God the power doesn't go out," April called after her.
"Look, we'll do everything we can, until we can't," Gail said reassuringly as she sat down to chart. The others left her to her patient, thinking they would head home.
Before Johnston got to the front door, he was met by Jimmy and Bill, the remaining deputy staff. He'd been trying since yesterday afternoon to track these two down and tell them about the decision to disband the deputy office for the time being and rely upon the Jericho Rangers to keep the peace.
"Any word from Gray?" Johnston asked them.
"No, Mayor, we still can't get him on the radio," Jimmy replied.
"Maybe they got captured by those tanks Stanley saw," Bill was quick to put in.
"Those tanks are probably just national guard," Jimmy bickered with him.
"You don't know that. They could be. . ." Bill bickered back.
"Shh!" Johnston quieted them as the family member of a patient walked past.
"They could be China," Bill continued in a whisper. "They could be Iran, Al Qaeda, North Korea, anybody who hates us. They could be coming here. And what's our line of defense? You're looking at it."
"I've been trying to speak with you about that," Johnston said, reclaiming control of the conversation. "We have decided to have the Jericho Rangers keep the peace until this calamity has passed and we can elect a new Sheriff. You both are on Ranger squadrons, right? You can assist whenever you have free time, but as of now, Ralph McVeigh and Walt Jackson are in charge. You only have duty for one 24 hour shift every 10 days. Understood?"
"Thank you, Mayor. That sounds good," Jimmy replied, looking visibly relieved.
Bill looked hesitant, but mumbled in agreement. Johnston left to go home and Jake started looking for Laura so they could head for home as well. Again, there was a commotion outside the room of the man Stanley had brought in. Jake went to stand with Bonnie, who was waiting for Stanley to return from the shower.
"Bonnie," Jake said as he touched her arm.
"This... could be my brother," she replied. "Is this how they die?"
"Stanley didn't get it this bad," Jake reassured her as soon as he was sure she was looking in his direction.
"He could still get cancer," Bonnie insisted, fear in her voice.
"We don't know that," Jake said, still trying to reassure her.
"Don't worry about me," Stanley said and signed, walking up beside them. "I'll be fine."
"Take care of him," Bonnie said to Jake as she walked away with Stanley.
Jake was unsure if she meant he was to take care of Stanley or the man in the bed.
At that moment, April completed her assessment of the man in the bed and announced
"I'm going to have to intubate him and put him on the ventilator. It'll use up power, but he's not breathing well enough on his own."
"But the baby has the better chance for survival," Eric interjected. "Save the ventilator for the baby."
"Hey, hey, hey, what about him?" Jake asked Eric.
"Give him something for the pain," Eric insisted. "Get him comfortable."
"Sit back and watch him die?" Jake asked, incredulous. It hadn't even been a week since the bombs and their humanity was already dwindling.
"Well I don't like it Jake," Eric replied, "but it's the most rational option we have right now. Unless you can think of something better?"
Jake and April looked at each other for a moment. "Use the ventilator for him and bag the baby?" Jake asked. April nodded. "We'll locate more gas tomorrow for the generator." Jake reassured Eric.
As April went to intubate him, the man awakened, gasping for breath. He pulled aside his oxygen mask.
"Can you tell me your name?" April asked.
"V-v-v-victor Miller," the man struggled to reply.
"Victor. Victor, you're in a medical clinic," Jake reassured him. "Okay, we're going to take care of you."
"N-no. There coming," Victor replied in agitation. "They-they're coming." With that effort, his oxygen saturation dropped and he lost consciousness once again. April proceeded to intubate him and Gail stood watch as the others went home for the night.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooo
It was well past midnight by the time Jake and Laura reached the ranch. They had a chance to talk on the trip home and Jake was reminded of why he liked this no-nonsense aunt so much. She had gone into town planning to sign up for future shifts, but had seen the chaos of the clinic and changed into scrubs, proceeding to work a 12-hour shift. Many staff members were still trying to settle their own families after the bombs and subsequent fallout rainstorm. Several had developed respiratory symptoms after being closed up the basement during the storm. The clinic was flooded with people seeking reassurance that each miniscule symptom wasn't cause for concern in this new post-apocalyptic world. Since she was used to the students at the UK, she was very good at reassuring them and sending them on their way. She regaled Jake with funny stories on the long ride home. She further assured Jake that she could drive herself in the carriage for her regular Monday, Wednesday and Friday shifts in the future.
"So, what will we do about gas for the generator?" She queried Jake.
Jake shook his head. "The hospital has a large gas tank that is nearly full. Eric was right, we don't have an unlimited supply, but we did not need to panic about that tonight. We have plenty of ambu bags to ventilate patients by hand, and plenty of hands to take turns with all of the EMTs that were trained years ago. I think it's just a matter of allocating resources. We probably need more volunteers at the clinic at any given time. And less hypochondriacs, by the sounds of it," he concluded with a laugh.
"Although Eric was right on one count. We should probably have the next supply of fuel ready and waiting at the clinic. I think Dad was planning to use the gas from the Greyhound bus, but there has to be a better solution."
They had arrived home and Jake let Laura out at the door of the ranch house while he went to care for the horse.
Heather was just finishing feeding the girls by the time Jake got cleaned up and entered their room. He gave Heather the updates from town, including the need for more gasoline at the clinic due to having two ventilated patients.
"Hmm," Heather said thoughtfully as she mulled over the new dilemma. "If we had a length of hose and a funnel we could siphon gas out of our cars. And then there's all that gas inside the tanks at Murthy's Gas Station. If we could get enough suction, we could get all the gas we wanted for the clinic."
"Would a water pump do it?" Jake asked her, pleased that they wouldn't need to resort to the gas in the bus so soon.
"I think so," Heather said with a gleam in her eye.
"How do you feel about a field trip in the morning, Mrs. Green," Jake asked her.
"How long were you gone today?" Heather asked him sarcastically. "Doesn't it take an hour each way for a trip to town? I can't be gone from the babies for that long. Otherwise, I'd love a field trip."
"Let's throw caution to the wind and drive the car," Jake said with a laugh. "I know where we can get a few extra gallons of gas."
They laughed together at their scheme. Jake used the radio to call Stanley, who would be back on Ranger duty, asking him to meet them at the gas station when he got off in the morning and advising him to bring a 500 gallon pesticide container.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooo
The group from New York had spent their first night of travel in a little community park. The horses had been able to eat the grass, which obviously hadn't been mowed for more than a week. The Schmidt children found fountain with fish swimming in it and Toby had been quick to pop open a can of soda, fashioning a fish hook from the pop-top. Toby and the kids caught fish to go with their vending machine crackers and a couple of cans of carrots for dinner. They cooked the fish over an open fire in the foil wrappers that had been discarded from other vending machine faire earlier in the trip.
Rather than setting up the two small tents they had brought with them, they slept in the carriages. The Schmidt family squeezed into one carriage, with adults sleeping on the bench seats and the kids sleeping on top of their belongings which were stacked on the floor. Conrad and Toby would take turns being on watch duty. The Brady family used the larger carriage. The third was used by Charles and the Stevens, with Grant and Charles also taking turns being on watch. It was altogether a miserable experience, and they vowed to come up with a better plan for the rest of the trip.
Conrad had quickly become the navigator of the group, having driven a taxi in the suburbs many years earlier. He recommended they take a slight detour to a sporting goods store with which he was familiar in order to procure ammo for their otherwise useless weapons. They had already had several close calls with other travelers who had showed a little too much interest in their carriages. He felt their luck with waving empty guns around would only last so long as society continued to deteriorate.
They arrived at the sporting goods store late on Sunday afternoon. From the front, it appeared to be intact. The caravan of carriages went around back at Conrad's signal. Charles was reaching for his small hatchet to break the door knob when Toby pulled a slim lock pick set from his back pocket and, in no time, had the door open. The group was both amazed and horrified by this skill.
Toby and Charles went in first to clear the building, armed with flashlights and empty firearms. Kate had requested a bathroom as they entered, so they looked for one once they were sure they were the only ones in the building. One corner of the large store was taken up by a floor-to-ceiling rock climbing wall. A bit of searching revealed a small locker-room off to one side for the folks who came to work out. They had only been on the road 24 hours, but were already desperate for showers.
Toby returned to the others and told them the good news. Everyone tumbled out of the carriages and into the store, anxious for a real bathroom and perhaps a shower. Charles, Grant and Conrad conferred, and decided to make their camp in the store that night, allowing themselves a chance to regroup and re-pack the carriages more efficiently.
While the ladies happily took turn in the tepid shower, the others went shopping. They found family-sized tents that were better suited to the group than the two small ones they had brought with them. They also traded in their very small one burner stove for a traditional camp stove and stocked up on propane to fuel it. The air was now growing crisp as the calendar turned to autumn. Fortunately, the store had already stocked their cold-weather line of clothing. The men chose layers of long underwear and cargo pants with plenty of pockets to hold the most important items in case they needed to flee their camp in a hurry. They found heavy jackets and sturdy boots that were far superior to anything they had had in their closets back home.
When the ladies emerged from the locker-room, clad in the clothing provide by the men, the last traces of hair spray and make-up were washed away. Kate had helped the others either braid or pull their hair back in a practical manner. They looked remarkably fit and capable in their cargo pants and long-sleeved T-shirts. There were whistles and cat calls as the men teased their wives about their new images. The ladies, embarrassed at first, soon realized that it was mildly liberating not to have to worry about one's hair and make-up.
While the men and boys showered, Kate went in search of dinner. She was looking at a large display of freeze-dried food when the others joined her.
"Do you remember when we were Girl Scouts?" Miranda asked Sharon. "Annie McCall taught us how to cook things in a Dutch oven."
"Yes," Sharon replied. "That was a long time ago. I think she used charcoal briquettes to bake cakes and things?"
"Here's a cookbook for Dutch ovens," Kate held up a thin paperback pamphlet. She had already chosen one with instructions on making soups and stews and several others. She took a pencil out of her bag and started writing.
"What are you doing," Sharon asked, still not trusting the newcomer to the group.
"I'm making a grocery list," Kate said cheerfully, aware of her persona non grata status with the other women of the group. She was willing to do whatever it took to get her family, her children, to safety. Even if it meant making nice with a couple of spoiled socialites. "We're bound to make it to a grocery store one of these days. I want to be ready."
The group put their tents up inside the store that night for practice. Kate made soup from freeze dried camping food and canned vegetables. It may not have been of the gourmet quality the Bradys were used to, but it was considerably better than dinner the previous evening. Closer inspection of the strip mall revealed a shooting range next to the sporting goods store, so they appropriated lanterns and took turns at target practice until each of them was at least passingly comfortable with a weapon. Spending time together in the store had increased their sense of camaraderie. Grant felt it had been a wise use of their time.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooo
Jake and Heather left the ranch house as soon as she had finished the 8am feeding. As they drove through town, they saw Johnston speaking with Bill and Jimmy in front of Town Hall, so they stopped and Jake rolled down his window.
"So how long do you think he'll be unconscious?" Jimmy was asking Johnston, obviously referring to Victor Miller.
"Could be a long time," Johnston replied, "if he ever wakes up again."
"Who are they?" Bill asked. "Who's coming?"
"Maybe he saw passengers from one of those planes," Jimmy conjectured.
"He could've meant terrorists," Bill continued, always looking for the worst case scenario. "Unless he wakes up, we don't know what kind of danger we're in."
Johnston rolled his eyes, having had his fill of their antics. "For right now, support the Jericho Rangers as best you can. Use them to help you get gas. Clinic's running low."
"I wanted to speak with you about that, Dad," Jake broke in as Bill and Jimmy ambled away. "Heather thinks we can siphon the gas from the underground tank at Murthy's. We should also take an inventory of all of the gas in town so we know what we have to work with."
"Good idea," Johnston replied. "I also want to know why we blew through the whole tank of gas in less than 5 days at the clinic. I thought we got the larger tank so that wouldn't happen? Would you look into that for me, Son?"
"Sure, Dad," Jake said. "We'll keep you posted."
"And another thing," Johnston continued. "It has come to my attention that our neighbors Jim and Judy Moore were in Philadelphia visiting their grandchildren when the bombs went off. Jim was the leader of the Delta Squadron. That new man, Mr. Hawkins is it? I hear he was a police officer in St. Louis? You seem to know him. Do you think we should consider him to take over Delta until Jim makes it back? He was very helpful the other day before the storm."
"Yes, I think he's do just fine leading Delta Squadron," Jake replied thoughtfully. He waved as he and Heather drove toward the gas station.
"But it's not my gas," Mr. Murthy argued once Jake had explained the situation. "It belongs to Norco."
"It's no use to anyone, Mr. Murthy, without electricity. The pumps don't even work," Jake patiently informed the man.
"We'll leave you an IOU for the 500 gallons," Heather chimed in helpfully.
"I could be fired," Mr. Murthy continued to dissent.
"With all due respect, who's going to fire you?" Jake said gently as Mr. Murthy handed him the keys. "It's a different world now, Mr. Murthy."
"Okay let's get em' open," Jake said to Heather as he stooped to unlock the gas storage tank. "Stanley will be here any second."
"They're never coming back... The district manager… Any of them, are they?" Mr. Murthy asked rhetorically.
"No..." Jake said absently as he worked.
Stanley arrived moments later. "I couldn't find an empty pesticide container; I thought this water tank might do."
"No, no," Heather said in alarm. "We can't use steel, there's too much risk of static. One spark, the whole thing could blow sky high."
"We don't have time to look for something else," Jake said.
"Well, who's going to fill it?" Heather asked, eying her husband with an unspoken threat that indicated he shouldn't volunteer.
"Well what do you wanna do? Draw straws?" Stanley asked, oblivious to the glare Heather was giving him.
"No, I'll do it," Jake said, being sure not to look at Heather. "You've got Bonnie to take care of."
"No, don't be a martyr," Stanley responded. "You've got Heather and three kids. I've already been radiated. I'm doomed."
"No. We're going to live to be 100, remember?" Jake said stubbornly.
"Our pacts never work out," Stanley countered.
"Let's just do this, before we think about it too much," Heather interrupted, aware that the two men could argue all day.
"Get off the truck Jake! Get off the truck! Back up, I've got this," Stanley shouted at his friend.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooo
At the Medical Center, the lights flickered as the generator ran out of gas.
"Oh God!" Gail exclaimed. "The generators down! Somebody call April! Hurry!"
"We've lost all of his machines," Gail explained to April when she arrived. "He's not breathing."
"Okay," April said patiently, aware that Gail had not worked in the hospital for a number of years. "I've got to get to the baby. There's an ambu bag on the wall. You used to be a nurse Gail, you'll do fine."
April went across the hall and bagged the baby, instructing the mother as she did so. "Keep a steady pace," she said as she handed off the job to the baby's mother and went on to reassure other patients.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooo
Jake, Heather and Stanley had completed the short trip down Main Street from Murthy's Gas Station to the side of the clinic where they could siphon the gas from the water tank into the generator. They all got out of the truck. Jake started unrolling a length of garden hose while Heather gingerly climbed up into the bed of the truck to open the cap of the tank.
"Um... guys," Heather said in a worried tone, "We have a problem. It's stuck."
Stanley climbed up into the trunk bed, reaching for the cap.
"No, no, no! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!" Heather shouted excitedly, trying to pull him out of the truck.
"Don't feel bad," Stanley interrupted her. "I'll loosen it up for you."
"No," Heather repeated. "The gas has been sloshing around in there, building up fumes. If you force the cap, and it sparks . . ."
"What do we do, huh?" Jake interrupted her.
"With all the static electricity in there, we could blow the thing to kingdom come." Heather continued her safety lecture. While she spoke, Stanley pushed the cap off the tank with a crowbar. It rolled to a stop near their feet.
"That was dumb," Stanley said, realizing what he had done.
"Alright here, get that to him. Let's go!" Jake said, deciding to continue with the plan since they had not, in fact, been blown to kingdom come. He held the second end of the hose in the primary fuel tank of the generator while Heather started the siphon going with the hand pump. The fuel gage slowly started to rise from "empty" and make its way toward "full".
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooo
Inside the clinic, Gail was still at the bedside of Victor Miller. Once the generator's fuel gage had begun to climb, Jake had switched it to the "on" position and come it to the hospital. The lights and machines were blinking back to life on as he reached his mother.
"How's he doing?" Jake asked, nodding toward the still unconscious Victor Miller.
"About the same," Gail replied, clearly worn out from her all-night vigil and stint at bagging the intubated patient. April bustled into the room turning on the vent and relieving Gail of the ambu bag.
"I need help with the cardiac monitor," April said to Jake. "See the black switch? I need you to turn that on. He's restless. He'll probably be waking up soon." Once she was convinced that Victor was settled, April left the room to see about her other patients.
"Do you need a ride home, Mom?" Jake asked Gail. "Heather can take you home on her way back to the ranch. I'll watch him for a while."
"Thank you, Jake. How will you get home?" Gail asked tiredly.
"I have a few things to do here in town today," Jake responded. "I'll have one of the Rangers take me home later. Heather is waiting out front."
Gail gave him a hug and went to find Heather. Jake settled in to watch his patient. It wasn't long before Victor started to grow more restless.
"Victor! Victor! It's okay," Jake tried to reassure the man. "April! April!" Victor began pulling at the endotracheal tube until he succeeded in pulling it out. Jake looked around, but no one was coming to help.
"Victor, you said they're coming. Who's coming?" Jake asked insistently, determined to make good use of the time he had.
"Th... They... they need help," Victor gasped.
"Who does? Who needs help?" Jake asked.
"Plane... from Denver," Victor replied.
"Where are they? Huh? Where are they?" Jake asked.
"L...L...L...Lake," Victor answered with a great deal of effort.
"A lake?" Jake asked.
"Boat... boat...boat dock," Victor gasped.
"A lake with a boat dock... Lake with a boat dock. What road was it on? Do you remember?" Jake continued to question the man.
"They.. They... They have my daughter," Victor said
"APRIL!" Jake shouted, as she ran into the room and reapplied the oxygen mask they had discarded previously.
Jimmy and Bill had been sent out earlier to investigate the truck Victor Miller had driven to Jericho. They found his I.D. and realized he had been driving Grey Anderson's truck. They radioed Eric to meet them at the clinic. Rob Hawkins was standing next to Eric at Town Hall when the message came through, so he tagged along with Eric.
"April, we need to talk to Victor Miller," Jimmy announced as he entered the clinic.
"He's unconscious," April replied, not even breaking her pace.
"I think we need to wake him up," Bill insisted.
"No!" April said, ending the conversation and entering an exam room, closing the door with a firm click behind her. Bill and Jimmy walked on down the hall to where Jake was standing with Eric and Hawkins.
"It doesn't matter," Jake was saying, "We have to go look for his family."
"Why'd he have Grey's truck?" Bill asked, jumping into the conversation.
"We need to know what he did with Grey," Jimmy insisted.
"I know, but we can't just torture a dying man," Jake said resolutely.
"No one is torturing anyone," Eric reassured his brother.
"We could give him a shot of adrenaline," Hawkins suggested. "It'll wake him up enough to question him."
"He's dying of 3rd degree burns," Jake argued, "It'd be like waking him up on fire."
"Our people are dying out there," Bill maintained. "Grey may already be dead."
"We need to protect ourselves Jake," Jimmy insisted.
"We need to protect ourselves from this," Jake said in disbelief.
"Jake, Grey's one of us," Bill put in. "We need to find out what this guy did to him."
"Hey, he is going to die anyway," Hawkins added. "But he could save some people's lives. . ." He let the words hang in the air as Jake considered. "Eric?" Hawkins asked for Eric's vote in the matter, and Eric nodded slowly. "I'd like to do this myself," Hawkins went on to say.
"Oh no, I'm not leaving him," Jake exclaimed, standing to follow Hawkins.
"Okay," Hawkins said nodding in agreement
"Okay," Jake agreed with his former classmate, wondering what the man had in mind and anxious for the conversation they would have about this later. They proceeded into Victor's room.
"What's going on in there?" April asked, coming down the hall and seeing Jake and Hawkins in the room.
"They're asking him a few questions," Eric replied, trying to calm her.
"Like hell they will! It's my patient!" April replied in anger. Eric put his arm out to stop her. "Let go of me." April countered, pulling away.
"We need information," Eric explained.
"You have no right," April countered.
"He could be a murderer," Eric argued.
"And that gives you the power to do anything that you want?" April asked incredulously.
"Yes," Eric said defiantly. "Yes."
Inside Victor's room, Hawkins pushed a syringe of epinephrine through Victor's IV line. Victor awakened in terror.
"Victor, it's going to be okay," Jake tried to reassure the terrified man. "We will make this quick, alright?"
"The truck you drove here. Did someone give it to you?" Hawkins asked.
"No, no. It was... it was on the side of the road just north of town. It had a flat tire," Victor said with a great deal of effort.
"OK," Hawkins replied.
"I was out of gas," Victor gasped. "I put my spare tire onto the truck."
"It's OK, OK. But was there anybody in it?" Hawkins asked.
"No," Victor replied. "I had . . . to help them."
"Where are they?" Jake asked. "Do you remember anything else about the lake?"
"It burns. . ." Victor said.
"Was it off a dirt road?" Jake persisted.
"It burns!" Victor said again.
"He needs morphine," Hawkins interjected.
"Was your daughter at Bass Lake?" Jake asked.
"Yes. . ." Victor replied.
"He needs morphine, Jake," Hawkins repeated.
"Please. . ." Victor gasped.
Jake left the room in search of morphine and Hawkins approached the bed.
"Hey! We said families only. Hmm? Why? Why did you go back to Denver?" Hawkins asked angrily.
"I . . .I . . . couldn't let them die," Victor confessed.
"Well that was a mistake, because now we are a man down." Hawkins concluded.
"Some...some..so...someone flipped. Traitor. There's a... traitor," Victor gasped.
"Do you know who it was?" Hawkins asked. Victor gasped, but did not answer. "Come on man. Tell me. Who was it?"
"I . . ." Victor just gasped.
"Tell me, do you know who it was?" Hawkins persisted.
"You know . . ." Victor gasped as the cardiac monitor alarmed tachycardia and then a fatal rhythm. A moment later, Jake returned with the morphine.
"He's gone. . ." Hawkins told Jake. They stood in silence for a moment until April came and pronounced him dead.
"We had to do it," Eric said, somewhat defensively. April just glared at him. It was sure to be a tense evening at their home.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooo
Jake gathered Eric, Bill, Jimmy and some of the on-duty Rangers and made the trip to Bass Lake. Unfortunately, it went from a search and rescue mission to a recovery mission when all of the members of the group were found dead. The rest of the afternoon was spent transporting the 20 individuals back to town and getting them buried the town cemetery. Jake returned to the ranch briefly to shower and change before returning to town for the memorial service. Heather opted to stay at home with the babies.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooo
"Earlier today, we buried 20 people," Johnston Green spoke from the pulpit of the Presbyterian church. "Refugees from Denver. People we didn't know, but were prepared to welcome into our town. Unfortunately they died of radiation poisoning before we could reach them. For those people from Denver, and for our own people, for Sheriff Dawes, and Deputy Riley. For Deputy Connor and Deputy Salem. For people out there somewhere we know nothing about. Who might be suffering and dying right now. I ask that we take a moment of silence.
After observing the moment of silence, Johnston continued: "If you've lost a loved one, would you please stand?"
A number of people stood, including Dale Turner, Bill and Jimmy, and the Jackson family.
"If someone you love is missing, would you join those standing?" Johnston requested.
Gail, Jake, the McCalls, Emily Sullivan and several others stood up
"We stand, because we know that every life matters. We have to fight for every life, even when it seems hopeless, even when we're afraid. Because the battle ahead isn't just for our survival, it's for our humanity." Johnston concluded the service and the community members began to file out.
"Jake." Emily called to him as he walked toward the parking lot.
"Hey," Jake responded a little puzzled as to why she had stopped him.
"Hey," she replied, kissing him on the cheek. "You're a good man for trying to help someone you didn't even know."
Jake didn't even know how to respond. Emile turned and walked away. Jake rode back to the ranch with the McCalls, shaking his head. One could never tell with Emily.
Author's Post Script: The scene at the bedside of Victor Miller was abysmal, from the perspective of (medical) technical direction. I couldn't allow it to stand. I smoothed out the rough edges as best I could while upholding the spirit of the scene. While it is still far from realistic, at last Gail is no longer doing mouth-to-mouth respirations on a patient who was intubated (and is intubated again in the following scene . . .). I feel much better now.