Caught In War Story #4 for fiction forum
Created | Updated Mar 4, 2003
The sun was sinking, blood-red sky chilled the air, and the smell of conflict filled the woman’s lungs, as she climbed painfully up into the day. She moved stones and kicked aside the frame of the window, as the man called out from below her.
“Nina? Anything?”
“Wait”
She stood in the ruins of what had been their base, and saw further away, the shed and landing strip used for aeroplanes. It was a smoking ruin.
“A bomb, a missile. I don’t know. Come on up.”
She bent, to help the man, he grabbed her blood-slick fingers and she stifled a scream. He stood beside her, wiping his hands on his jeans, looking at her self-consciously.
“What a mess! How long were we down there?”
He was trying, she noticed, for an air of unconcern, but she could hear the shock in his voice - and she, looking sideways at him, saw the trembling he didn’t know betrayed him.
“Days. I don’t know”
She bent and started heaving rubble away from the door way, and the window from where they had left the building.
“Help me, Bill.”
He bent and helped her remove rubble. They worked in silence, but for his laboured breathing, for 10 minutes. When they had cleared the doorway, he leaped down into the hole, disappearing from her sight within seconds.
“Bill!”
“I’m all right. I’m looking for the others. We can’t be the only survivors!”
“We’re not, I know that. I’m coming down.”
“Watch yourself. Here” his voice came nearer. She looked down, and saw his arms reaching up. They had climbed the broken staircase to leave from the window, and though he had leaped a metre down, she saw that he had manoeuvred part of the staircase into place beneath the doorway. He stood on a step, and reached up to her, now, and she slipped into his arms.
They went together down the stairs into the basement, where the five of them had sheltered during the sudden bombardment that they all mistaken for a storm during the first night. Then, towards morning, the house had collapsed.
It had taken the better part of another day for Bill and Nina to find their way up to the ground floor and make their way to the window. In the basement, they would find their colleagues and the child, alive they hoped. Exploring the remains of the house would have to wait, now they knew how late in the day it was.
Nina found a torch in the kitchen near the basement steps. The shelf leaned crazily, and the kitchen itself was a mess of dust, food and the smashed bricks from which it had been constructed. Bill took the torch and led the way (how like a man he was!) And Nina was forced to follow. She had no night vision, and would far rather have held the torch - as it was, she was in the shadow of his body.
In the basement, Bill searched for a lantern, lighting it, and hanging it on a hook. In a corner, Nina saw the blankets she and the man had tried to sleep on during the night. When they had been outside, she had noticed the graze on his forehead, and his breathing told her that he had inhaled dust from their journey to the outside. She had slept awhile, but had not otherwise lost consciousness. She knew she was fine. What about the others?
She took the torch from Bill, and swept it round the room. In answer, she heard a groan and a second later, a voice.
“Nina? Is that you?”
“Irene? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Where’s Mum?”
Nina ran over to where the child sat, tousle haired but unhurt. She was 10 years old, and had lost her father at 8 - her mother was the expedition’s record-keeper. It didn’t do to bring one’s family, normally, but in the circumstances, the powers had allowed it. Bill was investigating the source of the groan.
“Oliver’s all right” he called out. Nina helped the child to stand, and led her over to where the Expedition’s white haired Director was slumped. He was regaining consciousness as they watched, and Irene ran over to where the water they had used during their imprisonment sat. The jug was almost empty and the remaining liquid was filled with dust, but Oliver drank long and thirstily. His voice, when he spoke, was a croak.
“Bill? Nina, Irene. Where are we? Still in the basement?”
“’Fraid so… Sir.” Nina answered. “The building collapsed. We’re all fine.”
“Well” Oliver stood with difficulty. “That’s a matter of opinion! I can’t see a jolly thing, but that’s not important. Where are the others?”
“Here somewhere, they must be. “ Nina swept the torch around again, and saw a bundle of clothing in the other corner from the door. Irene ran over, yelling “Mum!”
Nina ran after her, and stopped. In the corner, hugging each other tight, were the other two staff at the dig - Loraine Standish and Oliver’s protégé, Paul Norman. The man had a huge gash across his forehead. Nina felt his carotid pulse - strong and steady. Irene tugged at her mother’s arm, already aware - and in the fitful lantern light, Nina saw the child’s face crumple as her realisation became conscious.
“No! Mum!” She screamed.
“Irene? Child - come here…” Oliver called “Do - please. I need you.”
Nothing else would have worked. Irene walked over to the Director, as Nina checked what she anyway knew. Loraine Standish was dead, and had been for some time. The beam that had knocked Paul out with a glancing blow, had broken open her head. She might have died the first night.
The next day, they had shifted enough rubble to find their way out into the street. Paul was fine, not even a scratch now he had come around, and Nina’s fingertips hurt only when she looked and was reminded.
Oliver was still blind however, and Irene would be consoled only when he made a show of needing her help. Bill still breathed with difficulty when exerting himself, and Nina knew that as hard as he worked to conceal it, he was in difficulty.
The Kirkland Foundation was an archaeological institute, part of an English University. They had sent five staff on request from the Pentagon authorities to the dig here on the island. Now, those five set out to explore the rest of the base, and face the practical problems that, apart from injury, beset them most. First, they needed somewhere to live, and food. Then, they needed to find other survivors and find a way home It wasn’t as if El Salvador was all that remote in the 21st century, from the rest of the world.
The Commander’s office provided the first two, but not the third. The whole base seemed deserted, and they found (Irene staying with Oliver while the others looked) only two bodies.
“They’ve been shot.” Bill stood, and dusted off his hands. “Nina, what do you think?”
She was the closest the expedition had had to a medic - aside from the American base staff. She bent now, and examined the bodies.
“Days” she said. “Where is everyone? It looks like…”
“An orderly evacuation. Yes.”
They returned to the office and Paul and Bill started searching for records, anything that could tell them what had happened.
Nina stood at the radio and powered it up. Static.
“Anything?” She asked, truly annoyed. The men shrugged, and Bill spoke.
“Oliver is the one who knows about radios. If you get him…”
“I could.” She turned, and stopped, amazed, as a voice came from the set.
“General Carlisle? General, do you copy?”
She picked up the microphone and pushed the ‘send’ button.
“Who are you? Carlisle’s gone.”
“Who are you?” The American voice was thick with suspicion.
“Nina Waring, from the Kirkland Institute. Who are you?”
“You’re American? I thought you guys were Brits…”
“I’m Canadian, they’re Brits, that’s not important. What the Dickens is going on?”
“Don’t lose your temper, Ma’am. “ he actually laughed. “We wanted to know if the island had been taken by the enemy. But it’s all right. Carlisle must have evacuated as ordered, he probably thought you’ll must be dead.”
“We might as well be. One of us is. What’s going on?”
“Well, we always knew the war was coming… Might have been coming. Lady, we’ll be by to pick you all up within a few weeks. It’s all a bit - chaotic yet. You’ll be all right until then, won’t you?”
She knew he wouldn’t listen if the answer was no.
“Who destroyed our island? Who bombed the hell out of us?” She was screaming, and she didn’t care.
Bill came over and took the microphone from her hands, as the man’s voice came from the speakers.
“The enemy, Ma’am. But it’s all right, we destroyed his cities. We won, we saved the West, and as soon as we have ourselves sorted, we’ll be by for you.”
Bill cut the connection, as Nina bent double, crying as if she would never stop. He held her, and she straightened, sobbing against his shirt.
“When they have themselves sorted out. They’ll be by.” She pummelled Bill, as he tried to comfort her. “Do you know the worst thing? Do you?”
Tell ,me”
“He thought I was one of them!”
