“No, something has got to be standing,” Sturgis said. “Even if we have to pick through the rubble, we’ll find some meds for this man. Something.”
I slammed the brakes, causing the truck to hydroplane a few feet and the back end swerved.
A body was in the middle of the road and it wasn’t the only one.
They, like furniture were everywhere.
“Hold on,” Sturgis said and opened the door, stepping out.
I put the truck in park. “I’ll be right back.”
Leaving the door open, I stepped out of the truck. My foot splashed in the water and my hand shot to my mouth. Not only from the shock, but the smell. Immediately, I closed the door and walked to Sturgis.
“All these people,” he said, stunned, just looking left and right. “They were supposed to be gone. Beckley is surrounded by a lot of hills. You know, natural protection. Why didn’t they leave?”
“I think through this we all made mistakes and choices we wish we didn’t.”
“Yeah.” He faced me. “Like me leaving my wife and kid to protect my job.”
“You said they thought Beckley was safe, right? Maybe they’re fine.”
“I can walk, it’s only five miles. I’ll walk if I have to. Right now, we need to find Lane either a doctor or medicine or both.” He looked back to the road. “Go on in the truck, I’ll clear a path.”
“Thank you.”
I walked back to the truck and got inside. I was grateful for what he was doing. Carefully pulling the bodies out of the way.
It was a good fifty yards that he walked ahead of me, moving objects and people. I knew it had to be hard for him, it was hard for me to watch.
But like finding help for Lane, moving those bodies was something that had to be done.
It just wasn’t something I thought about. In my mind, when I first left home to stop at Martin’s, I knew it was coming, but I thought I would be safe and underground the whole time. That I wouldn’t see anything or experience it.
Little did I even realize my family and I would be in the thick of it all from start to finish.
Now here I was, the finish line of the storm and it was far from being over.
It was a whole new world or at least a whole new country.
No rescue crews, no Red Cross, no one to help rebuild.
Buildings flattened, so many dead and those who lived and survived, what did they have left?
Where would they go to even begin to rebuild?
The reset button had been pressed.
Slate clean.
And things were a mess.
✽✽✽
Everything was leveled, from the Cornerstone IGA all along the main road that cut through what was more of a suburb than anything else.
In the distance I could see the word ‘Sheetz’ as it swung from the tall metal posts that once hung it.
Sturgis explained it was a chain gas station with food and maybe we could find a way to get gas there. But by the looks of the sign, I didn’t think anything remained of the building.
But I was wrong. As we made it through the edge of town nearer to Beckley, the buildings weren’t as destroyed. Roofs were partially missing, windows busted, but the basic structures remained and when I saw the Walgreens it was a godsend.
And just in the nick of time.
The truck sputtered, shook and after a loud backfiring sound it just died.
But we made it and I was certain in that store we’d find what we needed.
Although it wasn’t as if Walgreens wasn’t a mess, it was. The storm tore part of the roof from the building, the windows were shattered and when we went inside, whatever blasted through Daniels had enough force to topple shelves.
Before getting Lane out of the truck, I made a bed out of a patio lounge chair and helped my husband inside.
Sturgis had found some Gatorade and insisted that Lane sip it no matter how much he didn’t want to.
While he worked on that bottle, Sturgis and I went to the pharmacy.
We needed antibiotics and we began our search.
Daniels was located in a low lying area just outside of Beckley. Actually, it was part of Beckley, I learned that when barely into our search for medication, two volunteer fire fighters showed up.
The sound of the truck backfiring carried in the silent town and they sought us out.
I saw only the first firefighter. A young man, college aged, calling out, “Hello. Anyone back there?”
I was on the floor, shuffling through the bottles, trying to read labels. The sound of his voice not only startled me but caught my attention and I popped up from behind the counter.
He wore the hat, more than likely to protect his head, and his firefighter pants with the suspenders hanging down on the sides.
I stared at him with that deer in the headlight look.
He looked over his shoulder. “Billy, I found two. Looking for drugs.”
“No, No … not drugs.” I scurried over the counter. “Medication.”
He looked at the bottle of pills in my hand with a disbelieving, ‘Oh, really’ kind of look.
My eyes shifted to the label, ‘Hydrocodone Bitartrate’. “What … what is it?” I stuttered nervously. “I didn’t even know what I grabbed. My husband is …”
“Den,” the other male voice called out. I could tell just by the sound of him, he was older. “Forget those guys. This one is pretty bad. We need to get him in.”
Thinking, ‘get him in’, my eyes widened with the revelation that the other man, Billy, meant getting my husband to some help.
Excitedly, I shoved the bottle of pills to Den with a, “here’ and raced back to the front of the store.
Another firefighter was there. He was crouched down by the lounge chair, an open, red first aid kit was on the floor.
“Oh my God, can you help him?” I asked,
