“Where is Oscar?” Joe asked.
“He’s with me.” Kinsey lifted her head to meet Joe’s eyes. “He’s trying to make me feel better.”
“Oscar, come,” Joe said.
Oscar padded to Joe, sat and waited for instruction.
Joe guided Oscar to Hannah. “Down,” he said as Oscar lowered himself next to Hannah. “He’ll help keep you warm.” Joe waited for a response that Hannah had heard him, but there was none.
“Joe, there’s something else,” Kinsey said, sniffling.
“I’m listening.”
“Hannah saved my life.”
“How?” Joe asked.
“She stepped in front of me when the gunman approached. None of us saw him. It was like Ethan said – he appeared out of nowhere and started shooting at us for no reason. I couldn’t move. It was like I was frozen. Hannah was braver than me, and she’s about to lose her life because of me.” Kinsey lowered her head and sobbed. Becca wrapped her arms around her daughter, comforting her.
“Kinsey, listen to me,” Joe said. “I’ve seen soldiers much older than you freeze during battle, and they were trained. You weren’t, so please don’t blame yourself. We should all be grateful for Hannah’s sacrifice.” He had seen death many times during his stint in the military, including friends he had made while on tour. It never got any easier.
“What do we do now?” Lexi asked.
“We go home,” Joe said. He cleared his throat and paused, allowing himself time to recover.
“How?”
“We found a 1925 Model T Ford behind those curtains.” Joe pointed to the area. “It’ll be a tight squeeze to get all of us in the cab, but it’s better than walking.”
“What about Hannah?” Kinsey asked.
“We’ll wait till she passes then give her a proper burial. I’m not leaving her here to rot and be eaten by rats. Is everyone on board?”
The group exchanged worried glances.
“Joe, I know you’d like to give her a proper burial,” Lexi said gently, “but if you were mortally wounded and close to death, would you want us to wait and put our lives in danger? Digging a grave is hard work, and we’re all exhausted. We don’t have the proper tools. The best thing we can do is to follow Hannah’s wishes.”
“You’re right.” Joe admitted. “There’s something I’d like to do for her, and it’ll only take a minute. When she finally passes, I’d like her to be comfortable instead of dying on a hard floor.” Joe nodded in the direction of the windows. “We can use those heavy curtains. Ethan, I’ll need your help.”
“I can help too,” Tyler added.
“Ethan and I can manage. It would be better for you to start the car.”
“I’ll do it,” Tyler said.
Ethan helped Joe with the massive two-layer curtain hanging on the wall, covering the entrance to the room housing the Model T. They removed one layer, resulting in an easy to manage piece of waterproof material. The rest of the group – Lexi, Kinsey, and Becca – folded the curtain lengthwise so Hannah could have a soft place to lay during her last hours. Using their hands and forearms, the men picked up Hannah like a forklift would pick up a heavy load. They transferred her as carefully as possible onto the padded curtain. Joe placed the remaining piece of curtain over her to keep her warm.
Hannah never flinched or gave any indication she was aware of anything.
The melancholy group stood back. No one spoke.
“This seems too weird,” Kinsey said. “I guess nurses do this all the time in hospitals when someone is close to death.”
“Believe me,” Joe said, “this is hard for me too. Witnessing the death of someone you know is hard, and I’ve seen my fair share of it.”
“I feel like I should do something else.” Kinsey probed Joe’s eyes for an answer.
“I understand.” Joe placed his hand on Kinsey’s shoulder. “The best thing you can do to honor Hannah is to live your life. I’m sure she would have wanted you to live the best life you could.”
“I’ll try.” Kinsey paused. “What was her last name?”
“Hammer. One of the first things she said to me was to not make fun of her name. She’d had enough of jokes about it.”
“I’ll remember her forever,” Kinsey said. “She deserves to be remembered.”
~ ~ ~
Tyler examined the Model T according to the YouTube video. To check the fuel level, he lifted up the front seat, unscrewed the cap to the tank, and used a yard stick to determine how much fuel was left. The tank held about ten gallons of gasoline, and according to the yard stick, the tank had five gallons left in it. The 20-horsepower engine got about twenty miles per gallon, so at half a tank full, they’d get about 100 miles off the five gallons. A quick calculation determined it was plenty to drive past Katy for about 10 miles, then back to their house.
Next, he examined the tires. Modern tire pressures ranged around 25-30 psi. The skinny Model T tire’s correct pressure was around 55 psi. The tire pressure gauge indicated the tires were good to go. He hadn’t expected anything else considering this was a show car. Regardless, it paid to be careful.
Also on the agenda was to determine if the car had oil. Much more difficult than using a dip stick on modern cars, Tyler lowered himself to the floor and inched under the car. Behind the fly wheel housing, he found the compartment holding the oil. He opened it and fortunately several drops of oil dripped out. Good. That meant there was plenty of oil.
Finding the fuel switch, he switched it
