He wanted to be on the shore, helping the landing party, but currently, his lighthouse was encircled by the dead. They had found him eventually, and now they stood ringing its base. His only chance for escape came in the form of the men on the beach and whoever else came from the boat.
He ran a hand along his ribs absentmindedly, scratching at his dry skin. He had been alone so long in the lighthouse that he couldn't believe what the sight of seeing other humans was doing to him. He cried softly watching those men walk on the shore. How long since he had seen someone living?
Perhaps the end of October, he had seen a group of people running the other way up the beach, their backpacks loaded down with supplies, rifles in their hands. He knew that there had to be other people out there, but knowing a thing and seeing living proof were two entirely different things.
The wind gusted, and the lighthouse swayed ever so slightly, sending his head swirling with a touch of vertigo. It was a new development. He had never before experienced the dizzying sensation until a few weeks ago. He suspected there was something wrong in his body. He dropped the binoculars from his eyes and grabbed onto the railing of the lighthouse, so he didn't lose his balance and plummet to his death. He didn't feel like he usually did with vertigo, and then he noticed something else. The men on the beach staggered around like drunks trying to stay upright. All of the birds on the beach were taking flight. The trees in town shook, and from below, he heard the crash of equipment. The lighthouse shook even harder as if it were trying to buck him off.
And the words entered his head with dread. "Earthquake."
Chapter 17: Whole Lotta Shaking Going On
Joan lay on the floor, exhausted but still unable to sleep. The baby's crying kept her awake. She needed lots of things, antibiotics, more sutures, alcohol for sterilizing equipment, but most of all, she needed sleep.
The boy wailed in the other room where she had operated on Tammy. The baby had no name. Tammy hadn't woken up to name it yet. She had lost a lot of blood, and Joan wished that she had an I.V. drip to give her. But they were in an abandoned ranger station in the middle of the woods, not a hospital. It was questionable whether Tammy would ever wake up. She thought the odds were about fifty-fifty. So much blood… but Joan had done the best that she could. She stopped short of patting herself on the back for her performance. If Tammy survived, she would allow herself to do so, but only then. Otherwise, everything she had done had been in vain.
"Shhh," she heard Dez whisper at the crying baby. The boy was fine. They didn't know how much he weighed, but he was a damn sight bigger than anyone looking at Tammy would have expected. The baby seemed to be healthy, though her only tests had been hearing it cry, seeing it breathe, and making sure that it had all its fingers and toes.
He wouldn't stay healthy for long, though. If Tammy died, they would need some substitute for her milk, unless another one of the women's babies decided to come and their breasts started producing. It was a possibility. They were all under a great deal of stress, and sometimes that would cause women to have their babies early.
If it didn't happen in the next day or so, someone would have to go out and find some formula for the babies. Maybe they could find what they needed on the highway. But that was suicide. But somewhere in those cars, there must be someone that had a baby, someone that had brought formula with them. Perhaps there would even be some antibiotics for Tammy.
The baby cried again, an ear-piercing scream that made Joan's eyes pop open. She waited until she heard the soothing sounds of Dez from the other room. Maybe Dez should take the baby to another room, in case Tammy didn't wake up… and then did wake up as one of the dead. But no, Katie was there, a spear in her hand. She took turns with Mort, keeping watch. Mort had passed out easily enough. He claimed he was used to noise while he was trying to sleep. He said that it was actually easier for him to fall asleep when there was noise, that it was a result of sleeping under highways and next to train yards for so long.
She wished she had the same superpower, but every shriek made her eyes spring open. A new life… there was a new life in the compound, but she needed to know that it wasn't simply a trade of one life for another. She pushed herself off the ground, grabbed her spear, and hobbled into Tammy's temporary room.
Dez looked up but didn't say anything. Joan made her way to the side of the bed, ignoring the pain in her leg. She lifted Tammy's eyelid to look at her pupils. She shined her flashlight in her eyes, and the pupil slowly dilated. Her pulse was steady, as was her breathing. She pulled back the covers and checked the stitches. Even if Tammy woke up, she would be bedridden for some time. She couldn't risk the wound breaking open again, not with Joan's supply of sutures spent.
"How many times you gonna check her?" Katie asked.
Joan didn't know what to say to the question. Had she been checking too often? "As many times as I need to."
"What are you hoping to find?" Dez asked. "She's either going to die, or she's going to wake up. Looking at her isn't going to help her any."
"I'm looking to see if there's signs of infection,"
