I woke up groggy and realized that my hands were being held. On the right, I saw Melody holding my right hand and on the left, Daphne, holding my left. I was in the Rambler infirmary from my surroundings and was about to ask what happened when…

Melody spoke for me. "We thought you were a goner. You were bleeding so badly. A bullet ricocheted from behind and struck you just above and behind your right ear. The force of it gave you a concussion and you were bleeding profusely from the three-inch gash the spinning bullet gouged in your head. And then, you were bleeding both front and back from your abdomen where a bullet went through.

"The crew members who were fighting the guys at the base of the stairs that we had shot, came down and saw me trying to hold you up as you fell. They ripped off their white shirts they had been wearing as waiters a short while before to make bandages. And then, all four of us carried you to the stairs and up one deck here to the infirmary."

I wanted to know. "How long have I been out?" I struggled to whisper through my brain fog.

"Three days." Daphne said. "I was coming down the stairs with some of our people who had been hiding on the 16th deck with me when I saw you being carried down the hall on Deck 5 and had to help. They were setting up a triage and you were one of the lucky ones that got this bed. Others had to lie on the floor until they were moved to empty crew rooms nearby. It was a lot of confusion."

"Then what happened?" I was eager to find out and my voice was stronger.

Melody continued. "We couldn't get a pulse on you and your blood pressure was nonexistent. The medical assistant here quickly checked our blood types and hooked us up to giving blood to you as well as giving you an IV feed with a saline solution. They were totally out of plasma. We all crossed our fingers."

Daphne continued. "Both of us gave all the blood we could, considering we were pregnant and did not want to deprive our babies. There were others here needing blood, too, but we insisted on our blood going to you, hoping to save you from the state you were in. After getting your transfusion, you were on a heart and lung breathing machine used on the ship for emergencies when passengers had heart attacks. As soon as your vitals finally stabilized and you were sleeping, we had to give the machine up for others."

"Sleep some more, now, you need rest." Melody patted my hand and both of them kissed me on both cheeks. I dozed off.

Five hours later, I was awake again and wanted to get up. The girls were gone and the guy tending to the three of us in the room told me, "You can't get up yet. You need more blood."

I told him, "You can go shove your blood, you know where. I am leaving." I got up off the bed and immediately collapsed to the floor.

Down there for a minute, that lightheadedness disappeared. This time, I got up on one knee with my right hand on the bed and then gradually stood up while making sure I had my left hand reach out for the doorframe, and then, the hall walls. I took a few slow steps, until my rhythm of walking took me to the elevator and I took it down one floor to the ramp that was surprisingly clean except for bullet holes that had already been filled with spackling compound to be repainted.

The bright sunlight struck me as I teetered on the ramp but kept walking all the way to the torn up village and Sheriff's office looking like it needed a frontal renovation. There, I found Morgan working on restoring the monitors with one arm in a sling from a bullet he took in the shoulder.

I was starting to feel a bit dizzy again, so I sat down and he quickly got me a sports drink that went down well despite my parched lips and made me feel a bit better.

The first thing you said to me after,” Hi,” was,” I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that bullet that grazed your head was mine. I missed a bad guy on the other end of the hall.”

“That’s okay, Morgan, I’ve been so lucky so far. These are my first battle wounds. They probably won’t be the last.” We both chuckled in agreement.

I asked Morgan, "Any answers as to why they came in and who they were?"

"The only deputy here who survived said they took in and temporarily jailed a couple of Blods from Pasadena. Following procedure, they let them go the day before Thanksgiving with food and water. Checking all of these bodies they all have markings of Blods."

"Our generosity backfired on us?"

"I'm afraid so. Unless we can get it on the Internet, executing the wounded we have here… There are only three… Won't deter them. But maybe, just maybe, that one truck and ten of them we estimate that got away, have realized we mean business and won't come killing and looting again."

"I'll bet on that. Have you got a phone I can use? I've got to call and get someone to come and get me so that I can see how things are at home."

"They're just fine and from the looks of you, you do need more rest and iron rich food… You're still very pale."

I dozed off on a bench until Ray came to pick me up, and then, I slept the whole way to the compound. When I got there, Martha gave me nourishing soup and I went to bed again for two more days until I felt better and good enough for a swim with Melody when the midday sun warmed up the pool in the afternoon before another cool clear night with no rain.

By 10 December I was back alternating my days working with Derek on construction projects at the village to repair the damage caused by the attack on Thanksgiving and attending to what was needed to keep our compound in fresh food.

Each day, I worried more as our cisterns started to run out. Eventually, the utility committee formed a crew to drive milk and fire trucks to various reservoirs to get water. Each convoy was escorted by a SWAT security team, but there were no attacks. All was peaceful.

Marsha, Wondah and Stephanie incorporated some of the Christmas stories into their studies to the delight of the children. Each child was asked to create a list of what they would like for Christmas. On the 20th we went shopping. While most of the major stores had been looted, toys had been overlooked in some and the rest could be found in the homes if one could stomach going into a home and finding long decomposed bodies as we looked through closets and places where the things on our list might be.

In our search to find some fitting clothes for Flower as well as dolls and electronic gadgets she liked, Melody started to have labor pains. They were spaced like she remembered from Flower, telling me… "I'm sorry, Dra, but we have to go. I'm going to have these two rascals that have been beating up on me the last few days."

I wasn't sorry. "Okay, let's get to the truck. Would you like to go home or to the Med Center?"

"As much as I would like to have them at home, I think it best that we go to the hospital where they have everything in case we have any problems."

It wasn't long before we reached the hospital and got to the maternity ward. It had been busy already, with seven recent births, two of which were premature and in incubators. We settled into a private room and waited.

Ten hours later, Melody’s contractions had reached the point where she was in great pain and needed to deliver. I called the only baby doctor we had there, a young Chinese woman gynecologist. She asked, “Do you want to have an epidural?”

Melody just shook her head, “No,” and clinched her teeth in pain.

Ann Ma, from her nameplate, began trying to help Melody manually in her struggle to give birth. She announced, “One of the babies is a breach, but I think I can maneuver the one whose head is in the right direction and pull him out.”

I doubted that Melody heard her as she struggled to hold back her screams. and winced when I saw how far the doctor had her arms inside trying to get one of the babies to come out. Finally, after what seemed like minutes of struggle, he did, a loud boy with distinct African-American features who weighed a whopping 7.1 lbs. and had a very healthy yell.

But it wasn't over. Dr. Ma still had to turn the other baby around so that it could come out. This one had my features smeared with red blood and also had a healthy yell. But his weight of 6.9 lbs. was a bit shy of his older brother. I was overjoyed. I was a father, and I was only 19!

Melody finally was relaxed after that ordeal and smiled broadly as Dr. Ma brought each baby to her arms, amazed at her accomplishment.

I immediately got on the line and called Derek. He answered…

"Der, you won't believe this but you're a father!"

"What? What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you are a father and so am I. Melody just gave birth to twins. A black boy and a white boy. Yours is biggest and the oldest. So, you beat me at the punch. You had better get down here and greet your son."

"My son? Where?"

"The Med Center, the maternity ward we restored to function."

"I'll be right there. I'm not far away, working on the village office building."

Copyright 2023 © Ronald W. Hull

11/26/23