Deadland Rising (part 3 of the Deadland Saga)

Fortitude (Chapter 15)

The next two days went by interminably slowly. At first, a team went up every hour to check the status of the fires and to look for any of the twenty-six missing residents-though at least three were confirmed dead. Stragglers arrived within the first few hours, including Dr. Gidar and the two kids. A riot ensued to keep the kids out of the silo, but Justin allowed them inside, assuring everyone that they would be secured in a locked room along with the doctor.

The fires continued to burn but had not come closer to the silo. From the higher floors, I could hear explosions and crashes as more and more houses succumbed to the fires. Once it was clear we were safe in here from the fires, Justin had teams go up only every four hours.

The lower levels still had standing water in them, giving the silo's air a cold dampness. Our clothes were saturated with smoke. Coupled with the heavy air, the smell of smoke hung everywhere. People coughed in the dimly lit corridors. Deb-and others-cried softly. It was dark enough that no one saw me cry.

Even after working every day, crews had only managed to repair the silo's flooring, lights, and vents. No rooms were ready in the silo yet, so everyone had to camp out on the metal grid floors, with only blankets for cushioning. Buckets were lined up in cordoned-off room, which served as toilets. Diesel, Boy, and the other dogs in the town had nowhere to go. Thankfully, most of New Eden's supplies were stored in the silo. Plastic bags quickly became the most useful resource.

At mealtime, each person was given an open can of beans. No one complained. We'd all been through tougher times and were thankful to be safely tucked inside a building when we could be out in the middle of a Nebraska winter with no shelter. Few spoke. After all, what could be said that didn't make matters even worse?

Unlike Clutch, Griz, Jase, Hali, and me who wore our backpacks everywhere, most had nothing with them-anything they'd owned was burning to ash outside. We still had our weapons, a change of clothes, and some basic survival supplies. I spent a lot of time curled into Clutch, and it wasn't just to stay warm. He grounded me. Griz sat with us, but he spent as much time doing sit-ups and push-ups as he did sleeping. Hali and Jase were inseparable, and our small group stayed within ten feet of one another. I guess we all felt the same. We'd been through homes before. When we had nothing else, we still had each other.

Frost had found a nice corner for Benji and his dogs. The boy was resilient, but he needed routines, and he exhausted easily. Deb hadn't fared as well. Contractions started during the first night, and Dr. Edmund was at her side every moment he wasn't helping the injured. Vicki stayed with her constantly. I made the mistake and mentioned that Dr. Gidar could help, but with the backlash I received from the New Eden residents, it was clear they weren't ready for "that man" to be out among them yet.

I didn't offer any ideas after that and rode out the time. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone while we took our hourly walks through the silo for exercise. When I failed, I'd see the exhaustion and despair in their soot-covered gazes. Hell, I probably had the same look.

I watched Clutch. We could carry on an entire conversation without speaking, and I know I gave him strength like he gave me.

New Eden's citizens stayed days in the silo before Zach returned to say the fires were just smoldering embers now. After Justin saw for himself, he gave the green light for everyone to venture out.

"Watch out for dogs and zeds," he'd said. "Everyone, analyze what needs done today to secure New Eden. But, be back to the silo before sunset."

Some rushed outside. Others dragged their feet. I was somewhere in between. Shit, I was beyond stir-crazy, but I dreaded seeing what awaited us outside.

And, I had good reason to dread.

Armageddon had come to New Eden. I could see all the way across town. No buildings obstructed my view. Sure, the skeletal remains of houses stood like splinters, but the fire had been thorough. Not a single house came through unscathed, but at least five houses were still usable. Surprisingly, much of the fence still stood. It had been built far enough out the fire hadn't consumed it. Sections were charred, and boards pressed against the wire, but it was better than standing out here naked to the world. There were clearly still some holes in the fences, because animal tracks dotted the snow.

When Clutch and I came across Romeo's body-New Eden's vagrant-all that was left was his coat and boots. Wild animals had eaten everything else. Most of the bodies of the missing residents were never found, like that of Jase's partner, Dick. Or the woman who always smiled when I met her on the streets.

Or Marco.

It was like he'd vanished, leaving no trace behind. Maybe it was better that way; then we could all pretend that he hadn't suffered.

The fires had raged in the area for days, and they weren't completely gone. Smoke rose in the distance, and an explosion was heard that had to come from fifty miles away. Evidently, the gas line was still seeking out new victims.

We walked the fence line and made notes of needed repairs, though Clutch and Griz thought it would be better to focus on reinforcing the fence that encircled the silo to make a smaller area more defensible. Besides, there wasn't much out here left to protect.

Everyone congregated around the few buildings that still stood. Justin had a table set up, and his assistants were taking down notes as people spoke of what they needed. Dr. Gidar, sans kids, had his hand raised. "I need assistants. I need to continue my work. That is more important than anything."

Someone punched him-I couldn't remember the resident's name-and people cheered.

Dr. Gidar held his bloody nose. "Fool," he said, his voice muffled as though he had a cold. "If I can't find a vaccine, we're all only one bite away from death."

People quieted down, but their gazes were murderous. Dr. Gidar needed to learn that empathy was still a valued trait. People weren't being naïve. They simply couldn't fathom looking ahead to tomorrow when they were struggling to get through today.

We didn't stick around. We headed back to our house to find it about halfway burned. Some of the windows were, amazingly, intact. Still, Frost wouldn't let us sift through the debris for fear the floor would collapse. So, we stood there and stared through the broken living room window. Still sitting on the coffee table was a melted and charred baby seat.