Chapter 689

Dessie and Phillip at The Waterfall Campsite

When the tears finally stopped, she admonished herself and hoped her husband would never learn how much of a wuss she had become. He would be ashamed of me.

Phillip never wanted to be part of the useless rich, and he was always signing us up for new things — anything new or something that would help others. He said that we should never stop learning. But what can I do? From what I’ve been taught about concussions, his brain has basically been slammed back and forth in his skull. Isn’t that what a concussion really is? Coup, contrecoup, she remembered that the medical profession called it. Dread almost consumed her as the thought continued along its natural path. People die from concussions all the time. Some don’t die but are essentially rendered vegetables for the rest of their lives. Others can’t walk or think properly afterward. That can’t happen to Phillip. It just can’t. Maybe he only has a mild concussion. It’s already been a couple of hours, so he should awaken soon. Even if he were conscious, because of the broken leg, I couldn’t leave him to go get help, though, and ... with what’s going on with the aliens attacking Earth, is there even any help to get?

While sitting in the tent’s doorway worrying, she caught a glimpse of four jets flying two by two high overhead. She hurried to where she could see them better, but they were so high that they were barely more than just dots in the sky. They certainly aren’t passenger planes, and from the way they’re flying so close together, I suppose they must be fighters. Phillip would know what they are, probably even know the exact aircraft.

After staring a moment, she decided that the jets were probably looking for more aliens. From what the news commentators were saying, they could turn out to be, basically, a suicide mission. According to them, Earth’s fighters had little chance against the aliens. I hope you kill the bastards, she thought as she turned to go back to her husband.

In the tent, she had another bout of worry, which brought the tears on again. When they finally stopped, she admonished herself and hoped her husband would never learn how much of a wuss she had become — not to mention how terrified she was.

But what can I do other than worry and keep him as comfortable as I can manage? He can’t die. He just can’t. That happens to other people — not my Phillip. Maybe he only has a mild concussion. But she knew she was lying to herself. He’s had a tremendous blow to the side of his head, but I will not give up hope. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe he’ll wake up soon. He has to. I can’t leave him to go get help, and ... with what’s going on, there probably isn’t any help available anyway.

After checking Phillip’s pulse, yet again, to find that it was still in the high eighties, which was very unusual for him, she remembered that the first aid kit had a wrist blood pressure cuff. It only took a moment to slip it on his wrist and press the button. 148 over 72. They both exercised and ran several miles every week. His pressure was usually less than 115 for the top number. She didn’t know what the changes indicated, but the number was high for her husband.

As she continued to worry, she moved to where she could look toward the top of the mountains in the distance. Hmmm. The sky in that direction is continuing to darken. If I’m going to cook something, it had better be now.

A moment later, as she dug through what was left of their food supply, reality struck yet again. Oh, my. Since it’s almost time for us to leave, we only have a few days’ worth of food left. No problem if my husband could walk, but he’s a long way from that. Even if he suddenly regains consciousness, it will be weeks, at best, before he can hike on that leg — weeks past the time when our food will run out.

Worry assailed her as she put the freeze-dried dinner back with the other food. Our food is going to run out. There is absolutely no way to stretch it until Phillip’s leg is well enough to walk out of here. If he were awake, he would know what to do. “What would you do, Phil?” she asked aloud as she looked toward her unconscious husband.

He said nothing, his expression slack and his skin a bit mottled.

“Don’t you dare die on me,” she hissed out as she fought back tears.

We’ve been married since shortly after high school, and we’ve always made our major decisions together. Phil, if you don’t wake soon, it looks as if I’ll be making all our decisions — major and minor.

Shaking her head as if she could change things, she almost defiantly continued along that trend of thought. What’s the matter with me? It’s as if I’ve already given up and assume he won’t wake up. That’s nonsense. He just hit his head and is unconscious for a little while. He’ll wake up soon — he has to.

But the lump on his head was bigger than she had ever seen on anyone. Deep down, she knew her husband was in very serious trouble. What can I do? We have enough money for ten lifetimes, but that wealth is useless to me now. I can’t reach anyone on a SAT phone that’s supposed to work anywhere on the planet, and from what I hear on the radio, even if I could get in touch with someone, the government and the rescue people are already in way over their heads, as my father used to say.

Frustrated at her helplessness, she screamed at the top of her lungs, which only resulted in a sore throat and a faint echo.

Inside the tent again a moment later, she knelt by her unconscious husband as frustrated tears streamed down her face. “I’m scared, Baby. What am I going to do? How am I going to feed us — feed you? Even with stretching the food out, it will last only a few days. We’ll need strength to walk out of here. Two half-starved people would never make it to the castle.”

Another chilling thought hit. How can I feed an unconscious man? I’ve trickled a little water into his mouth, and he swallowed, but I was careful not to strangle him. Will he eat like that? Can he eat like that?

The new worry set her to trembling before she forced reason to the fore. People can go for several weeks without food, but only three days — if I remember correctly — before they will die without water. Well, water certainly won’t be a problem — at least getting it isn’t. We have millions of gallons of that, but can I get enough down him to keep him from dying?

More to appease her mind than fulfill any actual need just yet, she put a little in his cup, and with an arm under each shoulder, lifted him up enough to be able to put the cup against his lips while his body leaned against hers. Then gently, she angled the cup, and as tears sprung to her eyes, he swallowed the water without so much as a cough.

That was a quarter of a cup. I’ll have to keep track of how much he drinks, so I’ll remember to give him enough.

As she allowed his body to relax back onto the bed pad and pillow, she continued to kneel by his side as she took his hand. “Talk to me, Baby. I know we’ll be okay if you will just wake up and talk to me. You have always had an answer for all our problems.” Inanely, she giggled at a memory, “well, you always had an answer, but sometimes my dad won anyway,” she said as she remembered how Phillip had schemed to get her alone when they were first allowed to date, but her father was equally determined that a horny young teen wasn’t going to have his way with his fifteen-year-old daughter.

She thought back over their trip to the falls. They had eaten fish several times during the past week, but catching fish wasn’t a certainty — at least not for her. She had — at Phillip’s insistence — occasionally watched anglers on TV as they fished in tournaments, and they seemed to catch something on almost every cast. She knew that wasn’t exactly so, but she and Phillip hadn’t caught fish that frequently in the lake here. Granted, they only fished when they wanted to eat fish, and they usually managed to catch their dinner, but she doubted that she could keep them in food if fishing were her only food source.

Not knowing what the fishing laws were in Germany, they hadn’t put any of their catch on a stringer, but that was about to change — assuming that she could catch more than they could eat at a setting — if they were biting. And biting wasn’t something she could necessarily assume. She could see fish jumping on occasion, so maybe she could, at least, keep the two of them from starving if she put forth enough effort.

“Together, my Love, we could figure out a way to keep us in food while your leg heals. You have always had the answer to any problem we’ve ever had. I need your help, Baby. Please wake up and help me decide what to do.”

But ... he didn’t, and Dessie slumped into a more relaxed position as she continued to think aloud to her husband. “Mia will realize that something is wrong when we don’t return on time. She’ll send help as soon as she can, but who? The only guests other than Karl and Glenda were scheduled to leave just after we left on our hike, and from the things they said, they had never backpacked anyway.

“Karl and Glenda are seasoned backpackers. They said nothing specifically, but from the gist of the conversation, Karl has some type of problem that has kept them from backpacking lately. Is it his heart? That leaves Mia, Fischer and Sophia, none of whom are seasoned hikers, let alone backpackers. This is, by far, not the easiest hike we’ve ever been on. A novice would struggle in some of the areas on this trip, and without a GPS working, could any of them find us?”

Even as she heard herself, she remembered that she hadn’t given Mia any details about where they actually were. They will assume that we went toward the area Karl and Glenda had talked about, but instead, we went several miles to the East of the area we discussed. I was excited about the falls when we all talked back at the castle, but there are falls in several places in these mountains.

She knew there had to be rescue teams that would know where the chain falls were, or failing them knowing, they could check out falls until they hit the right ones. But again, from what she heard on the radio, everything was shut down except the military. They had the means of distributing fuel for their vehicles separate from service stations that were all standing idle because of the lack of power. Then another biggie. We are just two people who may be lost in the mountains when there are literally thousands of people in the cities that need food and shelter. Face it, Girl. We won’t be on any list — anywhere. If we get out of here alive, we will have to do it ourselves.

With her spirits gradually increasing, she held her husband’s hand as ideas began to jell in her mind. “Baby, I’m going to make you some broth to see if I can get that down you without your choking on it. After that, if it isn’t storming by then, I’m going to get some meat so I can make some real broth to help sustain you until you can wake up and eat normally. If that group of people we visited can live off the grid while only using tools from a hundred years ago, surely I can come up with ways to sustain us for a few weeks until you’re back on your feet and we can walk out of here.”

Taking a few minutes out, she went to pee, but as she was returning, she thought, What of Phillip? I was sure he would be awake before now. Then with total horror: Will he ever wake up? How am I going to manage? Oh, gosh. The first aid course just covered immediate response to someone who had been injured. The course assumed that someone with a severe concussion would be taken to a hospital soon after the event.

She sat by his side and held his hand as her mind continued to worry the problem. We have washcloths and towels, but only a minimum number of them. At least the lake and stream are near, though. If I have to, I can make him a diaper, she thought as tears began to flow again. My husband. The man who always has the answer. I’ve screwed over him, and now I’m stuck out here with no real way to help him.

Don’t you dare die on me, she admonished him mentally. I can’t live without you.

Then the food worry came galloping back. We only have a few days’ food left. Even if he awakens and is fine, he still has a broken leg. I can’t leave him here helpless while I’m gone for at least four days to get help. And we’re back to how rugged and tree-covered so much of this area is. Even if I could call for help, they would still have to hike a good portion of the way in just as we did.

Back outside and a distance from the tent, “It’s not fair,” she screamed aloud. He’s a good man. How can this happen to someone who never harmed anyone, and who has helped many people. He never fails to help people who are in need — always. He even stops on the road to help people. It’s almost as if they are drawn to him or him to them. There is always someone around that he can buy groceries for, fix up their home, pay their hospital and doctor bills. Our tax people complain that he doesn’t have receipts for many of his gifts so they can take them off our income tax. He just laughs and says it will work out. “Now he’s going to die out here, and I can’t do a damn thing to save him,” she cried bitterly.

She had left the little emergency radio on and in the background as the news people continued to discuss the Miadax attacks. Desperate, she tried the SAT phone again, but with the same result.

She realized that the distant sounds they had heard must have been explosions after all. According to the person on the radio, both dams had been destroyed in the mountains, and there was no power to this side of Germany. Oddly enough, the aliens had not hit the nuclear plants. Hmmm. Maybe they didn’t want to risk the destruction that might cause. Perhaps they want us to be their slaves.