Through the Storm(53)

The smell grew stronger as he crossed the house. “What rooms are ahead?” He glanced back over his shoulder.

Still by the front door, Madison looked ready to cry. “The kitchen and dining room.”

Conner edged forward and turned to his left at the next entryway. He gasped at the sight of a dead man on the dining room floor, surrounded by dark dry blood.

“What!” Madison ran forward.

Conner tried to stop her, but she struggled past him.

She gasped then looked again. “Who’s that?”

“I thought it might be your father.”

“No.” She turned away. “He is … was too young and I think he … ah, was Hispanic.”

Conner coughed. “We can figure this out in the fresh air.” He turned to leave.

A man with a baseball bat stood just inside the door. Most of his face was covered by a scarf.

Madison gasped. “Mr. Winters … Arnold … is that you?”

He pulled down the scarf, revealing several days’ growth of a gray stubble beard. “Madison?”

Before he could say another word, she asked, “Where are Mom and Dad?”

He shook his head and pointed toward the room with the body. “Your dad said that guy broke in, acting all crazy. Tom fought with him—”

“Who’s Tom?” Conner asked.

“Who are you?” Winters asked.

“Stop it!” Madison shouted. “Tom is my father; Maria is my mother’s name.” She focused on Winters. “Where are Mom and Dad?”

“That’s what I was saying. The crazy guy and your dad fought and while they struggled Roxie bit him … the dead guy … and must have cut an artery. He died in no time.”

Conner figured Roxie was a dog but decided not to ask.

Madison’s jaw clenched for a moment. “Where’s Dad? Is he okay? Where’s Mom?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nodded. “Your dad’s okay. A little bruised and shook up.”

“Where is he?”

“He went with your mom to the hospital.”

“Why?”

“After all the commotion, fighting, and dying, your mom collapsed … couldn’t talk right and had trouble seeing.”

“What?”

“Your dad borrowed my bike and cart to take her there.” He shook his head. “That was three days ago. He hasn’t come back with my bike.”

“Next time, if there is a next time, start with that.” Madison ran toward the door.

“About my bike?”

“Where are you going?” Conner dashed to catch up with her.

“The hospital,” she said without pausing. “It’s only a mile away.”

She grabbed her bike and darted toward her destination.

Conner followed, trying to keep up. Within a few minutes, he spotted the eleven-story main building. Conner slowed to a stop as he stared at the modern structure surrounded by large cedar trees. This was the place they had all hurried to that horrible night someone mugged and knifed his mother.

They had arrived too late. She was gone.

“Come on!” Madison pointed. “That’s the hospital. We’re almost there.”

Conner forced himself to pedal onward as memories of his mother, and the days of tears that followed her death, surged from the dark recesses of his mind.

“I’ll need to take your rifle.”

“Huh?” Conner asked the soldier in front of him.

“You’ll get it back when you leave,” a sentry said flatly. “But no weapons are allowed inside the perimeter. What’s your full name?”

“Conner … Conner Evans.” As he spoke, he became aware of several nearby tents with soldiers and doctors hurrying about. Madison stood next to a big Red Cross sign, talking to a woman. Several large generators roared at the far end of the parking lot. A line of green army trucks spewed diesel fumes as they left through a gate just feet away.

The sentry wrote Conner’s name on a tag and handed the rifle to another soldier. “Do you have any other weapons?”

Conner handed him the pistol and then pushed on with his bike toward Madison.

She waved him onward. “The Red Cross is helping families find each other.” Madison pointed to a nearby table. “We can check for admissions and discharges there.” She took a clipboard labeled, “Admissions.”

“Ah, Croft is your last name, right?”

Without looking up from the papers, Madison nodded.

Conner grabbed the discharge list and scanned the pages until he spotted both.

Tom Croft, deceased.

Maria Croft, deceased.

He stared at the page. How had both her parents died? How would he tell Madison?

She flipped to another page and leaned close. “Both of them were admitted to the hospital.” She looked to Conner. “Why would both be admitted?”

“Ah … I ….” What could he say to make this easier for her?”

“What?” Her mouth hung open. She stared and slowly held out her hand.

Perhaps it was best for her to read the words herself. He passed the clipboard.

She scanned the page. “No!” She sank to her knees “Why? How?”

Conner knelt, hugged her, and eased her back to her feet as the Red Cross woman ran over.