Darkness upon the Land

She didn’t need any further encouragement. Neither did everybody else on the bridge. Some people took off running faster than others, but it didn’t take long for both of them to have to start dodging around other fleers.

Most of the other people just weren’t as fast. Although she did wonder how Reuben, who with both bags had to be packing at least thirty extra pounds, was still nearly outrunning her. Luckily he also possessed the agility to maneuver not only around other bolting people but also the vehicles that littered the road in a haphazard pattern. He was clearing the path, and she followed closely behind him.

A louder explosion thundered, and even more yelling and screaming ensued. The air became heavy with the reek of fuel and chemicals. It seemed ironic to her that people would waste precious breath to cry out when they would need every gulp to run for their lives. At least she didn’t have to worry now about succumbing to another outburst, but Alexia wished she hadn’t started out already somewhat weakened.

She could see the end of the bridge. They were perhaps about three-quarters of the way across.

Two more explosions boomed to the side and behind them. Reuben glanced back toward the source of destruction and she was surprised to realize that not only was she gaining on him, but was actually about to pass him because he was slowing down.

“Rube –”

“Go!” He practically pushed her ahead of him, but then had no trouble keeping up with her.

The air was thick now with smoke and stench. Alexia’s lungs burned not only for air but also cleaner air. She started to cough. And to her dismay she realized she was slowing down. They still managed to pass many other runners, but some of those had slowed almost to a stagger.

The next explosion erupted in flame and smoke that she saw from the corner of her eye. Suddenly Reuben grabbed her arm and almost yanked her backwards.

“Get down!” He shoved her to the rough pavement and fell on top of her.

Much more screaming than yelling filled her ears, which only added more terror to the cacophony of grinding, squealing and banging. Parts of her arms stung and burned. The unmistakable clatter of shattering glass from a nearby car reminded Alexia not to allow fear to overwhelm her. It seemed they lay there forever.

But on the other hand, they weren’t down for long enough. Even as her lungs still struggled for air, she felt him scramble to his feet and pull her back up.

“Run!” he gasped.

Even as she pushed herself, with black smoke obscuring part of her vision and unnatural heat causing sweat to drip into her eyes, she could see enough to horrify her. Metal pipes and twisted shards of steel littered the bridge. The sound of shattering glass had been caused by debris striking the vehicles. But worst of all there were people who had also been hit.

Some of the escapees who were still trying to run were bleeding or looked burned. Others who were still down on the pavement were even bloodier. One woman lay face down with a jagged section of pipe jutting out of her side from debris that had rained down. A man lay sprawled in their path, his head twisted down at an angle made possible by the twisted sheet of metal now dislodged from the gushing wound in his neck. Alexia wasn’t sure if the wooziness that was beginning to creep over her was caused by the putrid air or the hideous sights, or both. She only knew she couldn’t allow it to halt her. Screams and shrieks echoed all around her, and it seemed that many of the wounded who were unable to get to their feet were left to deal with their fate.

This wasn’t right. Were both of them so intent on preserving their own lives they weren’t going to offer aid to any of the wounded?

The child seemed to emerge from the black smoke like a fawn stepping out from the underbrush. He was a preschooler, maybe only two years old, who wailed as he wandered back and forth on the bridge. His naturally brown face was smudged, his black hair stuck up in every direction, and the dark shirt and sweat pants he wore almost concealed him in the dense smoke that rolled around them. One person running by knocked the waif over, and he howled even louder as he tumbled to the pavement.

That settled it for Alexia. She veered to the right and staggered to a halt beside the boy so she could scoop him up in her arms.

“What are you doing?” Reuben gasped raspingly.

The child continued to wail as she grasped him to her chest and tried to resume running. “I’m not going to leave him here!” Her own voice was no better than his.

“I can’t carry both of you!”

The toddler weighed more than she anticipated, and her pace was slowed considerably. In spite of what he just said, Reuben grabbed her left upper arm and almost dragged her alongside him in order to speed up their retreat. The boy squirmed and kicked, and his wailing almost drowned out the keening around them. Alexia wished she could see the end of the bridge.

And just as she did, another explosion thundered behind them.

“Down! Down! Down!” He pushed her.

She dropped to her knees and elbows and crouched over the child while trying to console him with a voice she barely had. Reuben was huddled over her, pressed against her back, and above the boy’s weeping she heard more shrieks that chilled her blood. The clanging of colliding debris was even louder, and seemed even closer although they were finally to the opposite bank of the river. Then a straining, tremulous roar she didn’t recognize was immediately followed by even more hysterical screaming and boisterous crashing. Reuben suddenly pushed against her so hard that she almost squashed the preschooler beneath her. The man grunted forcefully, and then sputtered as he bounced back up to swat at something before pressing against her back again.

Her lungs felt as though they were about to burst from her chest, her arms and legs ached and burned, and her ears were hurting from both the noise and the small boy’s howls. The air was fetid and hot, and if not for that she was half ready to just keep lying there and take her chances with another explosion.

But Reuben managed to stumble to his feet while tugging on her arm. “C’mon. It’s not far now.” His voice was hoarse and choked.

All three of them were coughing and gasping for air, which meant the child wasn’t crying much anymore. She glanced at Reuben, and if her heart hadn’t been pounding so hard it might have skipped a couple of beats.

Black splotches from Lord only knew what covered his face and clothes as well as the bags. But he was cradling her duffel bag which was now split open. And right beside where they had been lying was a ragged, smoking chunk of metal.

She immediately surmised he had thrown the bags over his back as he covered her and the child with his own body. Their gear had been all that lay between him and the massive shrapnel that launched toward them.

“We need to get to the water,” he croaked as he tugged on Alexia’s arm again.

Wailing and moaning seemed to fill the air around them, and she could feel herself beginning to tremble as her realization of his close call settled in her mind. Then she glanced back toward the bridges and wished she hadn’t. The people scattered everywhere were as filthy as Reuben and many were in worse shape. The bridge that led into town was demolished where it neared the tanks. Burning puddles added to the miasmic smoke that drenched both structures, and gnarled chunks of the destroyed overcrossing and cars ... and bodies ... created a jumbled, seeping heap in the river and along the far bank.

She resumed her efforts of trying to console the toddler in her arms while also consoling herself. Still gasping for air, she stumbled with Reuben toward the canal on the west side of the four-lane highway that would take them south.

Only a few other people were taking the same route. As soon as they reached an unoccupied area, he dropped the bags to the ground and sank to his knees. She collapsed in likewise fashion just behind and to the side of him, and as they all gulped for air she noticed the wet stain on the back of his shirt looked like it was blood.

Alexia cuddled the snuffling child to her chest. “You’re bleeding,” she wheezed.

“Again?”

“You need to get cleaned up.”

Reuben looked at her pointedly. “Don’t call the kettle black.”

For the first time she realized she was probably as murky as her companions. “I’m not wounded ... thanks to you. You don’t want that to get infected.”

“All right, you win.” He sat back slightly as he tugged at the bottom of his tee shirt to pull it off. “But what about Skippy there? What shape is he in?”

The lad was still whimpering and coughing, and his face was a mess of soot and grime and snot, but otherwise he seemed unscathed. He had even been spared the spotty burns that peppered both of them. As she returned her attention to Reuben, the thought occurred to her that if they had just taken on the care of this child, she’d better intervene quickly before the poor waif got stuck with the name Skippy.

His wound was a long, jagged gash stretched diagonally from his left shoulder blade to his right ribcage. Luckily it seemed pretty shallow, with the skin not even broken in a couple of places. Alexia washed it with the last of their clean water and applied some medical cream from the first aid kit in his gear bag. She lightly applied a strip of gauze with some tape, although she wondered how long it would hold if he started sweating again.

He left his dirty shirts with her mangled bag as they shambled to the bank of the canal to fill the two filter bottles.

“See what happens when you try to get us to run part of the way?” Reuben muttered as he dipped some water into the bottle he would use.

“You’re the one who said something had to chase us first.” She also dunked the handkerchief he had used earlier in order to try to rinse it out. “What on earth brought that on, anyway?”

“I’d say the coolant system had been out long enough some of those tanks started to overheat.” He sat back on his heels and took a long swig from the bottle. She offered hers to the boy as she tried to clean his face with the handkerchief. The child promptly stuck the straw in his mouth and began sucking up the liquid. “You just had to pick one that we can’t pat on the head and turn loose, didn’t you?”

She frowned at Reuben. “I only regret I couldn’t save more.”

He sighed as his attention drifted toward the river and ruined bridges and other survivors that were milling about. He handed her his water bottle.

“Have some of mine. I don’t think that kid’s gonna come up for air anytime soon.”

They decided to try to clean up a bit before heading farther down the road to locate a more private area to get cleaner and change clothes. She tried to coax the child to tell them what his name was after Reuben called him Skippy again, but the boy would only whimper. So they rinsed off as much of the oily residue as they could and had just turned back toward their gear to gather it up.

Without warning, a young woman suddenly shrieked something Alexia couldn’t understand, and began running toward them.