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Pinehurst Academy, New York City
The music, which earlier had seemed quaint and nostalgic, now blared mockingly at Sam as he stood next to Brian, left behind holding a cup of too-sweet punch.
"Man, you've got some serious competition." Brian shook his head as they both watched Laura go off with J.D. for a tour of the prep school.
"Please," Sam said sarcastically, keeping his gaze on the retreating figures.
"I'll bet he's really rich, too." Brian sipped his punch and tried to look innocent.
"Shut up," Sam replied, though there was no heat to his words. He raised Laura's punch to his mouth and took a drink. She'd gone off with the rich kid and where did that leave him? Standing there holding her drink, that's where. Why hadn't he said something?
"Man, why didn't you say something?" Brian's question eerily echoed Sam's own thoughts.
Sam shook his head in disgust, feeling Brian's eyes on him. "What was I supposed to say? Don't go see the rest of this historic old school with the really cute rich guy? Do I look stupid?"
"Well, when you put it that way..." Brian shrugged as Sam rolled his eyes. "She's never going to know you like her if you don't say something."
"Look, I'm just not ready to do that, okay?" And the way things are going, I might never be ready, Sam thought morosely. Brian had badgered him for weeks about trying out for the Scholastic Decathlon team and he'd resisted, saying he wasn't a joiner. Then he'd heard that Laura Chapman had been selected and just like that he'd added his name to the list for consideration for the third position. It'd been a stupid impulse, but somehow he'd managed to get on the team. Now here he was, in New York City with Laura and Brian. And even though Laura was always nice to Sam, it was the same generic niceness she showed to everyone. Sam might as well be invisible for all the real attention she showed him.
"Yeah, well it looks to me like if you're waiting for the perfect time, it's never going to happen. Just tell her, why don't you?" With that, Brian shook his head and wandered off, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.
The next day they were supposed to have free time in the morning and compete in the second round of the Decathlon in the afternoon. After breakfast, several of the teams met in the Pinehurst Academy media room, planning to go sightseeing together. Sam would rather have wandered around on his own, but after it became clear that Laura was looking forward to going out with the group, he'd kept quiet about it. So long as they were going sightseeing together, it wasn't that big of a deal, though sometimes it felt like he spent his entire life telling himself that some disappointment or other wasn't a big deal.
The TV was on while they waited for everyone to show up and suddenly they were all riveted to the screen. Sam stared right along with everyone else, aghast at the path of destruction that tornados were tearing through downtown Los Angeles. Tornados? The news that air traffic was grounded sent a ripple of fear through the kids in the room and there was a scramble to call home. They were only supposed to be in New York for a few more days, but once semi-hysterical parents were reached, the committee in charge of the Decathlon bowed to parental pressure to suspend the competition indefinitely so that everyone could go home now.
Sam understood, probably better than anyone, just how unusual the current weather was and part of him really wanted to get out of New York and be at home. But there was another part of him that was disappointed; the part that wanted a few more days with Laura, away from school, away from other distractions. He felt guilty when he hung up from talking to his dad, but he hadn't exactly lied. The earliest they could get a train out of New York really was the next day.
When he spotted J.D. standing with Laura and Brian, Sam knew what was coming next. He forced himself to smile as they informed him about their accommodations for the night and he wondered if maybe it wouldn't have been better to have tried to get a train home right away after all. It wasn't that J.D. was a bad guy. Sam grudgingly admitted to himself that under different circumstances he probably would've liked J.D. But these weren't different circumstances and he could only view J.D. as the competition when it came to capturing Laura's attention.
The storm raged outside J.D.'s penthouse apartment, keeping Sam awake most of the night. Sam stood by the windows and watched the lightning spark across the New York skyline. The rain was still pouring and there was no break in sight. It wasn't the noise that bothered him, but the fact that the storm was getting worse. And in the back of his mind was the chilling memory of the tone in his father's voice when he'd said he wanted Sam home. His dad was the last person to panic over bad weather. This storm was something different, something more than just bad weather.
Sam finally managed a couple of hours of fitful rest, only to awaken again at a crash of thunder and lightning that sounded like it was right outside the bedroom he shared with Brian. He rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock--at least they still had electricity--and decided to take a quick shower while he could. The continuing ferocity of the storm made Sam deeply uneasy in a way that he'd never felt before and he had a bad feeling about their chances of getting out of the city by train. When the news on the television confirmed his worst fears, he wasn't surprised--hurricanes don't form over land. Sam knew enough about the weather to know that. He kept his mouth shut, though, unwilling to scare the others, even if the little boy inside him badly wanted someone to share his fears with.
When J.D. offered a ride out of the city, even if it was only a ride to Philadelphia, Sam was relieved. At least they would be partway home and maybe one of Brian's or Laura's parents could drive up that far and pick them up. It wouldn't be Sam's dad--Jack would have his hands full trying to figure out what was going on with this weather--and his mom wouldn't be able to get away from the hospital at a time like this. That was cool, though. Sam understood the importance of their work. Hadn't he always, even when it meant that he took a back seat? The feeling of self-pity was sharp and unexpected, taking him by surprise. Angry at himself, he shook it off and grabbed his bags.
The scene that greeted them as they exited the building shocked them, even after all that they'd seen on the television. The streets were flooded, the water coming up to the bottom of the hubcaps on cars and still rising. Laura turned to Sam worriedly and said, "Maybe we should just stay here."
The doorman nodded at J.D. "I think the young lady is right, sir."
The suggestion that they return to J.D.'s penthouse set a curl of fear turning in Sam's belly. The last place he wanted to be if the storm got any worse was at the top of a highrise in an apartment full of huge plate glass windows. Sam shuddered. Better that they go and find some kind of transportation, than be trapped in that building. "No," he said. "We need to get home." He led the way down the steps, determined to keep moving.
The non-stop rain and the flooding in the streets fueled Sam's fear, channeling it into the need to take action, to do something. As the water rose, so did the urgency he felt to find shelter, preferably on higher ground than street level. They were fighting their way through the middle of the street now, the water coming to their waists. How much higher would it rise?
J.D. stopped and held up his cell phone. "I can't reach my driver. I lost the signal."
"This is insane," Laura said and gestured at the stalled cars all around them. "We're not going to be able to drive anywhere. We should just go back to your apartment."
"Yeah, I vote for that." Brian nodded.
"What, are you kidding?" Sam turned and yelled, trying to be heard over the driving rain. "We have to get higher. Come on. Up to the Library." The New York Public Library loomed over them like a godsend. High enough above the street (Sam hoped) and only a few stories high and built like a fortress. The creeping panic that was trying its best to consume him began to be replaced by hope as they climbed the steps to the entrance.
As they reached the top of the steps, Sam turned back and saw Laura still in the middle of the street, helping a cop get some strangers out of a taxi. He couldn't believe his eyes when she turned back to reach for something in the back of the now empty cab. What the hell was she doing? And then he looked up and saw the towering wall of water rushing down the street straight at them, Laura directly in its path.
"Oh my God," he muttered as he started down the stairs, his heart in his throat. "Laura!" A rush of adrenaline lent wings to his feet and he splashed through the water, half-hurdling, half-sliding over obstacles to get to her. Sam shouted her name and pointed at the danger behind them, then grabbed her hand and pulled her along in his wake. They ran up the steps of the Library, continuing up to the second floor, barely making it to safety ahead of the rushing water. They filed into one of the main reading rooms on the second floor along with everyone else who'd taken shelter there.
"Listen, thanks for coming back for me," Laura said. "It was really brave."
Sam smiled sheepishly, but couldn't find anything to say, fear of sounding like a tongue-tied idiot making him freeze.
Laura smiled slightly and reached down for the leather purse by her feet. "I guess I better return her bag."
Sam nodded and glanced away. As Laura walked away, he turned his head and stared after her.
"Sam?" Sam glanced up, surprised at the sympathetic expression on J.D.'s face. "Just tell her how you feel."
Great. Now he had J.D. feeling sorry for him. Sam glanced down and breathed, "Yeah." Like that was going to happen. He heard the soft beeping as J.D. tried dialing his cell phone again and he frowned. "Did you reach your little brother yet?"
"No. There's still no service. Damn cell phones."
If J.D. couldn't get through on his cell phone, how would they call their folks? Sam's eyes widened as a possible solution occurred to him--pay phones! He rushed out of the reading room, Laura trailing behind. The librarian he'd asked was right, the mezzanine was flooded, the water freezing as Sam waded into it, but the pay phone itself was still visible. And, miracle of miracles, it was still working. Sam dropped a quarter in the slot and called his father's work number, knowing without a doubt that he'd be able to reach Jack there. The conversation was short, but Sam was thankful just to have been able to talk to both of his parents--and even more thankful to have heard his dad's promise.
"Do not go outside. Just burn whatever you can to stay warm and try to wait it out. I will come for you, do you understand me? I will come for you."
Once out of the freezing water, Laura helped him get warm again, sharing her body heat to make sure he was all right. If Brian were there he probably would've told Sam that it was the perfect time to tell her how he felt, but Sam couldn't do it. He just couldn't get the words to come out. What if she didn't like him like that? Or worse yet, what if she felt sorry for him? No, he'd wait to talk to her another time. After he had a better idea of what her reaction might be.
Sam wasn't sure if he was still suffering from exposure to the cold water or if the air was really that much colder by the time they returned to the reading room. He glanced up at the high arched windows and was shocked to see that the rain had turned to snow. He was about to climb to the upper level to get a better look, when he heard an ominous noise, like metal grinding against something hard. He rushed out to the second floor and stared in astonishment out the front lobby to the street. The sight of a giant ship floating down the street was shocking, but even more shocking was the fact that the water was freezing and freezing quickly. It was getting worse, just like his dad had said. They all went back to the reading room, too lost in their fears to speak.
Later, when the cop called down from the balcony that there were people out in the snow and that they should all start heading south, Sam felt his heart race. And when Laura told him that he had to say something, he knew she was right. But how was he going to make them listen to him? He'd never been one to call attention to himself, preferring to stand to the side and observe. Taking the lead was something that other people--stronger people--did. People like his dad. Jack would know what to do, what to say.
The cop's the one to convince, Sam thought determinedly and headed in his direction. Unfortunately, the cop refused to hear what Sam had to say. All he could see, all that the other adults could see, was a scared seventeen year old kid who couldn't possibly know what he was talking about. As they walked past him out of the reading room, Sam pleaded with them to no avail not to go; they wouldn't hear him.
Sam stood at the rail of what used to be the balcony of the second floor of the Library and watched as the last of the band of refugees trudged out into the snow. Only a handful of people had listened to his words and stayed. So few, out of that entire mob in the Library. Everyone else was out there in the snow, headed for certain death. Sam turned away, a sick knot twisting in his gut. He'd failed. But this time the result wouldn't be an F on a calculus test. This time his failure would be paid in human lives. Was this what it meant to be an adult? To take responsibility for yourself and for others and to have to face the consequences of your failures? If so, being an adult sucked.
Laura, Brian and J.D. followed him back to the reading room where the others who had chosen to stay behind waited. Sam blinked when they all looked to him to tell them what to do next. For a moment he was tempted to say that he didn't know, that someone else should be calling the shots, but the next thing he knew he was opening his mouth and taking charge. "We need a place where we can start a fire to keep warm, preferably in a smaller room than this so we won't have to heat such a big space."
One of the librarians, the lady he'd asked earlier about the pay phones, nodded thoughtfully. "The Library was originally heated by fireplaces throughout the building. Most of them have been walled over, but there's a room that still has a fireplace out in the open. Maybe it will still work." She led the way up the stairs. "By the way, my name's Judith."
"I'm Sam," he said as he followed her. "This is Laura, Brian and J.D."
The room was as cold as the rest of the building, but at least it was a smaller space and the fireplace appeared usable. Sam told himself later that he shouldn't have been surprised at the librarians' horrified reaction to the idea of burning books to keep warm. From their point of view, he supposed he'd as much as suggested committing sacrilege. Sam hated the thought of burning books too, but not when the only other choice meant freezing to death.
Sometimes Sam didn't understand adults at all. Why wasn't one of them figuring out what needed to be done and taking charge? Like the food situation. Why had he had to ask about a cafeteria before Judith remembered the employee lounge? What else was there in the Library that could benefit them that was going overlooked because he didn't know enough to ask?
Sam eyed the wood furniture in the room, assessing how difficult it would be to break into kindling if they needed it later. If push came to shove, they could probably figure something out. For now, though, the more books they brought up to this room so they didn't have to make a lot of trips later, the better. He went out in search of the others, ready to help gather fuel for their fire.
The wind howled through the building, whistling as it found tiny cracks between the walls and windows. Even bundled up with extra coats from the lost and found wasn't enough to completely block the cold and Sam got used to the slightly numb feeling in his thighs and the ache in his hands through the pieces of woolen muffler that he'd wrapped around them. Hardest to deal with was the chill that settled in his face, reddening his skin, making his nose run, freezing his cheeks and his chin and making it hard to talk. The sooner they took the books up to their room and got back to the fire, the happier Sam would be.
The room was noticeably warmer when Sam wheeled his load of books inside, passing Brian sitting on one of the tables where he was futzing with the radio. The fire was already making a difference. Sam rubbed his hands together and glanced at Brian. "Did you get a signal?"
"Yeah, for a minute." Brian sounded subdued.
"And?"
Brian raised his eyebrows and glanced surreptitiously at the others, nodding at Sam to come closer. Quietly, he said, "Man, this storm is everywhere. It's hit the entire northern hemisphere. Europe is buried under fifteen feet of snow and they say it's going to get just as bad here. I mean, I don't think you're dad's gonna make it."
"Yeah, he'll make it." Sam glanced away and then said firmly, "He'll make it."
Brian just shook his head and went back to fiddling with the radio. "I hope you're right."
Sam nodded and grabbed one of the now empty carts for another trip to collect books. How many did they need? How many would be enough? How was he supposed to know? The others were all looking to him for reassurance. What was he supposed to tell them? He swallowed the sudden lump of fear in his throat. What if, by insisting on staying here, he got them all killed?
No. Sam trusted his father. His dad wouldn't lie to him--not about staying inside and not about coming to get him. Sam might not have been able to convince very many people to stay behind in the Library, but he'd do the best he could for those who had stayed. He squared his shoulders and pushed his cart into the reading room. The more books, the better. Better that they had more than they could burn before they were rescued, than too few.
Sam spent the rest of the day trying not to think about his father and where he might be out in the storm. That was the flip side of his fear. Not just that his little band of survivors in the Library wouldn't make it, but that his father was out there somewhere, trekking through a killer blizzard to come rescue him. Jack might know how to handle himself in subarctic temperatures, but Sam had heard the panic in his father's voice when he'd told Sam to stay put. An image of the mammoth they'd seen in the Natural History Museum flashed before his eyes, the one that had frozen to death in seconds with food still in its mouth. That was the kind of blizzard this was and if his dad was caught out in it...Sam shuddered and reached for another stack of books.
Books were piled high in their room and the fire danced merrily in the hearth. Under other circumstances the room would have been a welcome retreat from the rest of the world. Sam helped the others unload the final haul of books and then pushed his cart up against the far wall.
Dinner was an odd mix of salty and sweet--a packet of chips and a half a candy bar--washed down with a can of soda. Sam smiled to himself as J.D. slipped half of his candy bar to the dog, Buddha, when he thought no one was looking. His smile faded as he stared at the dwindling stash of food. If they weren't rescued soon, there was going to come a point when they'd have to chance going outside to forage for food. Sam sighed softly and turned away, deciding to put off thinking about that until the very last minute.
Someone--Judith, he thought--had gone through the other rooms and torn down draperies and tapestries, anything that could be used as a blanket or wrap, and had brought them back to their refuge. Those, along with the coats and sweaters left in the lost and found, would have to be enough to keep out what cold the fire didn't beat back. After dinner and hurried trips to the bathrooms, they all settled into their chosen spots for the night. Sam glanced around the room, trying to decide which chair to claim.
"Sam?" Laura said, her voice hesitant. She had her hands full of one of the tapestries. "I was going to pull that chair and ottoman over here so it's near the fire. This thing is huge." She held up the cloth. "I thought maybe you could pull the other chair up across from me and we could share."
"Sure. Great." Laura smiled and Sam blinked. He helped her with the furniture, mentally kicking himself. Great? What kind of witty comeback was that?
Once they were situated, Laura arranged the tapestry over their legs and Sam pulled his end up to his chest. It had been a clever suggestion on Laura's part; Sam could feel the body heat from her legs next to his under the tapestry. He smiled self-consciously at her as she settled back in her chair, hoping that she wouldn't expect him to say anything. Starting conversations wasn't exactly his strong suit.
Laura just smiled back and began talking, asking him easy questions that he could answer almost without thinking. Stuff like what was his favorite class this year? and who was his favorite teacher? He agreed to answer only if she'd do the same. She nodded and the questions gradually became more interesting, requiring a bit of thought on his part.
"I got one," Laura said. "Your favorite vacation."
"Besides this one?" Sam smiled wryly. "All right. I went to Greenland with my dad on one of his research trips a few years ago. And, uh, the ship broke down and we got stuck. And it rained constantly."
"That sounds really boring," Laura whispered with a smile.
"It actually was really nice, you know? Just me and my dad hanging out for ten days." He glanced at her and then lowered his gaze, not wanting to see the look that was in her eyes.
It wasn't like that, what he could see she was thinking. His dad loved him; Sam knew that deep down where it mattered. It was just that his dad had always been so busy doing important stuff that took his full concentration. When Sam got his father's undivided attention, well, he thought of those as the good times. Even when it was on a ship stuck off the coast of Greenland in the rain. Some kids might have learned to act out and get attention from their parents that way. Sam had learned to be quiet and observe from the sidelines, making the most of his fleeting opportunities. It was just that as he got older, those opportunities seemed to come less and less frequently, especially since his folks had divorced.
Sam forced a smile and turned the question back on Laura. "What about you? What's your favorite vacation?"
She searched his face and smiled tentatively. "Well, this might sound funny, but my all time favorite vacation is the one my family took the summer I was nine years old. We flew out to California and spent a week at the Disneyland Hotel. My oldest brother was fifteen and had gotten into a lot of trouble at school the previous year, but my parents told him that I was his responsibility while we were there and that as long as we stayed in the park, we didn't have to have a curfew or a set time to do anything. We had a blast."
Sam smiled. "I bet."
"You're an only child, aren't you?"
"Yeah. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a brother or sister."
Laura laughed softly. "My brother was always complaining about me. Until that trip to Disneyland. The first day all I did was eat junk food and candy and I ended up really sick to my stomach. My folks didn't say a word about it. I'm not sure how it happened, but I guess it finally dawned on my brother that since I was his responsibility, my being sick was his fault. After that, he turned into Mr. Responsible--at least when it came to what I ate and making sure that I was with him and okay and stuff. We started having fun together for the first time that I can ever remember. We've been friends ever since."
"Sounds nice." Sam yawned, the warmth finally starting to sink in and making him feel sleepy.
"Yeah, it is," Laura agreed and then yawned herself. She smiled and said, "Guess it's all finally caught up with me. I think I'll try to get some sleep. Good night, Sam."
"'Night" he replied softly. Sam watched her close her eyes and then he shifted slightly, hoping to settle into a more comfortable position. He yawned one more time and tried closing his own eyes, but sleep refused to come. He waited for the warmth of the room to work its magic, but his mind wouldn't slow down. Too many thoughts were chasing around in his head, combining with worry and fear, to allow him to sleep. Finally, he eased out of the chair, letting Laura stretch out under the covers.
Sam made a slow circuit of the room, checking that everyone was okay and taking a quick mental inventory of their resources. The stacks of books would have to be enough, but the lack of food concerned him. There was nothing he could do about it but hope that the storm would break long enough for them to go out before it became a serious problem. He circled around to the fireplace and sat on the low coffee table, exchanging a glance with Brian.
Brian looked different--tired and scared. Sam glanced around and noticed the same pinched expressions on all their faces. I probably look like that, too. The world was changing, had already changed irrevocably from what he'd known only days before, and none of them knew what to expect from the future. If they had a future. Sam pushed aside those dark thoughts and nodded at the fire. "Why don't you try to get some sleep? I'll make sure the fire keeps going." He smiled slightly and Brian nodded, his gaze sliding away from Sam's.
A few of the others had been restless for awhile, too. Judith had sat for a long time in a chair next to the fireplace, reading; Elsa and Jeremy were ensconced further away, holding a soft conversation that looked like it might have had something to do with the giant book Jeremy held so protectively. One by one they had all gradually settled in and fallen asleep, but Sam found it easy to stay awake. The night was far from silent. The storm raged outside, so cold that he could feel its touch even while standing next to the fire, and the flames burned with a soft hiss and crackle as the fire consumed paper and the occasional leather binding. Sam crouched there, listening to the night and his thoughts, feeding the fire when it died down a little.
Laura tossed and turned under her covers, coughing. Concerned, Sam knelt by her makeshift bed. "Hey. Hey, are you all right?" He gently placed the backs of his fingers on her forehead and cheek and frowned slightly. "You look like you have a fever or something."
"I'm fine," Laura said softly as she pushed herself up to sit. "I just can't sleep. My mind keeps going over all those worthless Decathlon facts. Guess it's pretty stupid, huh?"
Sam perched on the ottoman, next to her outstretched legs. "No, it's all right. I guess you just haven't had time to adjust yet."
"How am I supposed to adjust, Sam? Everything I've ever cared about, everything I've worked for, has all been preparation for a future that no longer exists." Her expression turned solemn, a bleakness in her dark eyes that hadn't been there earlier. "I know you always thought I took the competition too seriously. You were right. It was all for nothing."
He wondered if she were right. Would anything they had been taught to expect still be there waiting for them? Would they be faced with a future so changed that they had no place in it? Or would they have a future at all? Sam didn't know, but he couldn't stand to see that look in her eyes. "No. No, I just--I just said that to avoid admitting the truth." His heart beat faster as he realized what he was about to say. Suddenly, being afraid of revealing how he felt seemed insignificant when compared to the other fears that crowded his heart.
"The truth about what?"
"About why I joined the team. I joined it because of you." He thought the smile that replaced the serious expression on Laura's face was his reward for taking the risk of telling her the truth. But then she leaned forward, breathing a soft, "Hey," and pulled him closer and kissed him.
It was a nice kiss as first kisses go. Laura's lips were soft and warm and Sam pulled back, smiling at her, hoping that the warmth of her lips came from the heat of the fire and not from fever. If it had been any other time, the firelight and cozy setting would have seemed almost romantic. But reality refused to go away and all Sam could feel was regret that he hadn't had the courage to be honest with her from the start, when life had been different. Before the storm.
Laura sat back with a soft smile on her face, then inched down in her cocoon until she was flat on her back. "I'm going to get some more sleep," she said. "You should try to get some, too."
Sam nodded and rose to his feet. "I will. In a little bit." He watched as she closed her eyes again and then he went back to crouch by the fireplace, playing sentinel to the life-giving fire. During the course of the night the others woke and shifted spots, looking for someplace more comfortable to rest. Laura moved a couple of times, finally falling asleep on one of the leather couches.
The next morning everyone woke and began moving around--everyone except Laura. Sam tried and failed to wake her. She was pale and shivering under the pile of cloth that covered her. Fearful now, he called the others over to the couch. "She wouldn't wake up this morning. I mean, last night she only had a fever. I don't understand."
"She's awfully pale," Elsa said, frowning.
"Well, guys look, none of us have had anything real to eat in days."
"I'm telling you it's hypothermia," Jeremy said.
"But how can it be hypothermia? We've all been--"
"Look, maybe it's just the flu, you guys." Brian shook his head and frowned.
"No, no. It's not the flu," Judith said as she flipped the pages in the book she held.
"Yeah? And how do you know?" Brian asked.
"Books can be good for something other than burning," Judith said mildly as she brought the book over to Sam. "All right, let's go over her symptoms."
Sam rested his forehead in his hand and closed his eyes. "I told you that she has a fever and she's got a really cold sweat."
"How's her pulse?"
Elsa touched Laura's wrist. "It's really fast."
"Does she have any injuries, like a cut or something, that might've gotten infected?" Judith asked Sam.
"She was complaining about a cut on her leg a few days ago," Elsa replied, looking worried. "I didn't think anything of it."
Sam stood up slowly as the others pulled back the covers and pushed Laura's pants leg up, revealing a nasty gash on her calf with scary looking red streaks radiating out from it. His heart froze and a knot formed in his stomach. He turned away as Judith said, "That's blood poisoning. Um, septicemia. She could go into septic shock."
"I've seen that before. That can get bad."
Judith flipped to the page in her medical book on septicemia and read the passage. "She needs a massive dose of penicillin or a broad spectrum antibiotic immediately, or...." Her words trailed off as she continued to read to herself.
Sam turned around and stared at her. "Or what?" Judith glanced up without speaking, the concern on her face telling Sam all he needed to know.
The knot in his stomach twisted. Laura would die if she didn't get the medicine she needed. He couldn't let that happen--he wouldn't let that happen. But where was he supposed to find penicillin? It was a sure bet that there wasn't any to be found in the Library. That meant going out into the storm and somehow finding a place with medical supplies close enough that he might have a chance of getting back without freezing to death first. Sam slipped from the room while the others fussed over Laura, trying to make her more comfortable, and discussed alternate treatments, though none of them sounded promising.
His father had told him stories about working in cold weather locations all over the globe. If Sam had to go out in the snow, then he was going to need a way to keep from sinking down into it. That meant fashioning some kind of snowshoe. He searched through the rooms, looking for something he could use and his mind raced, trying to come up with a solution to the problem of where to find the medicine. As he glanced at the tall arched windows, now partially blocked by snow, he thought of the ship that had passed by outside when the street had been flooded with ocean water. Surely there'd be medical supplies on such a ship. It was the closest thing he could think of and worth a shot.
With a goal firmly in mind, Sam renewed his search. Finally, in a tiny room he found a set of chairs with woven cane seats and backs. If he strapped the back part of the chairs to his feet they should act like snowshoes, distributing his weight over the snow and preventing him from sinking. At least, that's what he hoped. He grabbed two of the chairs and dragged them back to their room.
Sam popped the backs out of the chairs and announced his decision to search the ship for the medicine Laura needed. The tight band of fear across his chest eased somewhat as Brian and J.D. both announced that they were going with him. The thought of all three of them being outside as the temperature dropped wasn't something he wanted to contemplate, but he welcomed their company. Maybe together they had a chance.
Sam had thought it cold inside the Library, but that was nothing compared to the blizzard that still blew outside its walls. They made their way through the drifts of snow in the general direction of the ship. The surreal sight of the ship frozen in the snow in the middle of Manhattan was almost too much for Sam. Laura was right. Nothing would ever be the same again. They stopped and stared and Sam could hear Brian mutter, "That's just wrong," when the wind died for a moment. Sam nodded in grim agreement and forged ahead again.
They searched through the ship, looking for something that would indicate medical supplies. The ship was silent and empty and Sam felt guilty for being grateful that no one seemed to be onboard. He'd been half afraid that they'd find the frozen bodies of the crew as they searched and he wasn't sure if he could've handled that. Finally, Sam spied a door with the red cross symbol on it, but it was locked when he tried to open it.
They had to get in somehow, but none of them were strong enough to break down the metal door. Sam rushed to the end of the corridor and looked out the porthole. There were metal pipes running along the side of the ship that should allow him to edge his way over to the porthole of the medical room. He could take the fire axe with him and use it to break open the porthole from the outside. Everything was frozen, making the handholds sure to be slippery and the footing treacherous, but it was the only way Sam could see of getting into that room.
He didn't give himself time to think about what he was doing; he grabbed the axe and swung himself out of the porthole and onto the pipes. It seemed to take forever, but it was only a matter of moments before he reached his destination. He swung the axe, shattering the glass with the blunt end, and slipped through the opening. Brian and J.D. were waiting for him on the other side of the door. They frantically searched through the shelves and Sam's heart plummeted as they realized that all of the writing was in Russian. How were they going to be able to tell what they needed if they couldn't read the labels?
"Hey. Hey, guys," Brian said, holding up a glass vial. "I found it."
"What?" Sam glanced at him. "How do you know?"
"Because it says penicillin on the bottle," Brian replied. He pulled out all of the vials and stuck them in his pockets, while J.D. and Sam shoved as much of the other medical supplies into their pockets as they could make fit. They made their way down the corridor, back the way they'd come, Sam and J.D. in the lead. Brian stopped and pushed open one of the double doors that they passed and called out to them. "Hey, wait a minute. This is the mess hall. We should find some food while we're here."
Sam turned back and frowned. "But we don't have time."
J.D. shook his head and joined Brian. "Sam, none of us are going to survive much longer without food, okay? Including Laura."
Sam was torn between the need to hurry and get the medicine back to Laura right away and knowing that they were right. This might be their only shot at gathering food before the storm became too severe to even consider going out again. They had to have food. The medical supplies felt heavy in his pocket as he breathed, "Okay," and rushed to catch up with them.
The mess hall looked as if it had been hastily abandoned. The tables were covered with plates of food, as though the ship's crew had been preparing to eat a meal when the storm hit. J.D.'s voice came from behind a half-wall, "Sam, over here!"
"What?"
"Bingo." The open shelves of the small storage area were stocked with cans and bags of dry goods. Enough to keep them in food for a few weeks, if they were careful.
"We need to find something to use to carry this back with us." Sam glanced around the storage area, looking for sacks or boxes that they could fill.
Several bangs and a strange hissing noise came from out in the mess hall and then Brian exclaimed, "No. Whoa!"
"Brian?" Sam called.
"I'm okay!"
"What was that?"
"All I did was open up the cupboard," Brian said as he backed away from the inflated yellow raft now taking up the middle of the room.
J.D. played his flashlight over the raft and said, "Well, we can use it."
"For what?" Brian asked.
"Put food in it."
A strange growling noise came from the corridor outside, drawing Sam's attention. As one, they turned their flashlights on the door in time to see the shining eyes and snarling muzzle of a wolf just before the animal leapt into the mess hall and made for them. Sam turned and sprinted for the opposite door, only to hear J.D. yell as the wolf caught his leg and pulled him to the ground. J.D. kicked at the animal, but it wouldn't let go. The wolf growled and tugged, trying to drag J.D. with it as it backed out of the room. Sam wasn't strong enough to pull J.D. away, but there was no way that he was going to let the wolf have him. Sam dropped J.D.'s shoulders, raised his flashlight high above his head and swung with all his might to crash it down on the wolf's head--once, twice, thrice--and the beast released his grip on J.D.'s leg and they were through the door, closing and barring it against the wolf's entry.
"You all right?" Brian asked J.D. breathlessly.
Sam pointed his flashlight out into the mess hall, shocked to see several wolves jumping up on the tables in search of food. "God, there's more."
"My leg." J.D. groaned and stretched his leg out so they could see. Sam stared at the wound in horror. There was blood on J.D.'s pants; the wolf's teeth had gone right through to the flesh. J.D. was injured and they were trapped.
"Here, use this." Brian handed Sam a long wool scarf to wrap around J.D.'s wounded leg. It was all they had, the best they could do until they got him back to the Library. Sam wrapped it as tightly as he could, hoping it would stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down.
They had to find another way out of there--a way for all of them. Sam opened the porthole and frowned. The storm seemed to be clearing and that couldn't be a good sign. "You guys? I think we're in the eye of it. We gotta get back, right now." There was only one thing to do. "Look, I'm gonna go outside and I'm going to lure the wolves out of the room. When they leave, you lock the door."
"Good luck." Brian's voice was somber.
Sam grabbed a butcher's knife and went outside, using the pipes to make his way back to the medical supply room. He slipped back inside through the porthole window and slowly made his way across the room, wincing at the crunch that sounded when his foot came down on a piece of broken glass. There was no helping it; he'd have to make a run for it.
Sam forced himself through the door, trying not to slip on the frozen floor. He raced past the open door of the mess hall and was half-way down the corridor when he heard a loud thud and a whimper. He turned round, shining the light back the way he came, and saw one of the wolves trying to right itself on the slippery footing after having smacked into the wall. Shit! He turned and ran through the ship, desperately trying to stay ahead of the wolves snarling at his heals. The door to the outside was just up ahead, but the wolves were gaining on him. Sam put on a last burst of speed and skidded through the opening, slamming the door shut just as the wolves leapt. He grimaced at the sound of their impact with the door. Panting hard in the cold air, Sam tried not to see the smear of blood on the porthole.
The air seemed colder without the blowing snow. Every moment they were still out in the open was another moment closer to freezing to death. Now he just had to find a way back into the ship and help Brian and J.D. get out in one piece. Sam spotted a metal ladder that rose up the side of the ship toward the deck where the mess hall was located. It was as likely a way in as anything, so he started climbing.
Luck was with him and he found the outer door for the mess hall just down the corridor from where he got off the ladder. He pounded on the door. "Brian! Brian, open the door!" Brian seemed shocked as he opened the door, but Sam had to get them moving. "We need to get out of here now. Brian, get the supplies."
Sam grabbed the side of the yellow raft and tugged it over to the door, pulling it outside and tossing it down onto the snow. Brian came out carrying an armful of cans and Sam pointed down at the raft. "Drop them down there. Get as much as you can in one more trip and let's go. I'll get J.D."
Sam pulled J.D. up, muscling his shoulder under J.D.'s arm, and half dragged him out of the mess hall. There wasn't time to be careful of J.D.'s injury, but Sam did his best, helping J.D. down the ladder until they reached the bottom. J.D. was shivering and white as a sheet and would have collapsed if Sam hadn't been there to support him. Sam levered him into the raft next to the cans of food. Brian was down the ladder by that time and Sam handed him one of the ropes attached to the raft. Together they ran, pulling the raft behind them.
The wind began to whistle and Sam stared up in horror at the wall of the storm. The temperature was dropping rapidly and Sam could hear the stressing of freezing metal and glass as the city's skyscrapers froze from their tops down. This was it. They had to get inside or die. Sam glanced at Brian and saw his own horror reflected back at him. Without a word they both picked up their ropes and ran harder. The opening through the snow at the top of the Library windows was only a few yards away.
They made it to the opening and Sam tossed the food inside. He yelled to Brian, "Take the medicine to Laura," and then maneuvered J.D. up, pulling J.D.'s arms over his shoulders and taking J.D.'s weight on his back. No way would he leave J.D. behind now, not when they were so close. Sam ran as fast as he could down the Library hallways, shifting J.D. so that his arm was over Sam's shoulder and Sam's arm was around his waist. Sam grabbed the front of J.D.'s coat with his free hand to steady him and pull him along.
Sam could hear the cracking of the marble as the floor and walls around them began to freeze solid. "We're almost there!" They turned a corner and Sam wanted to sob in relief at the sight of the open doors of their room, the roaring fire just beyond. He staggered into the room, J.D. nearly a dead weight. "Brian! Close the doors!"
He dropped J.D. onto one of the chairs and grabbed some books, tossing them onto the fire as he yelled hoarsely, "Don't let the fire go out!" The others fearfully began shoving books into the fireplace.
Judith turned and stared at the doors. "What's happening?" The doors and the walls were turning to ice, frozen solid within seconds.
The dog barked at the crackling noise made by the stress on marble, wood and metal. "Buddha! Come away from the door! Come! Buddha, come!"
As Buddha ran for the fire, Sam heard the whistle of the wind coming down the chimney. He turned and frantically began throwing books onto the fire again. "More books! More books!" They built the fire up, stoking the flames and keeping it from going out as the cold tried to invade the room. It took awhile, but eventually only a couple of them needed to attend to the fire.
Sam turned to Brian. "You have the penicillin?"
Brian emptied one of his pockets of several vials of medicine, not just the penicillin. "I thought maybe we could find a Russian dictionary, figure out what the rest of this stuff is. Might come in handy."
Judith picked up a vial and frowned. "How are we going to administer this? We'll need a syringe to inject it."
"Yeah. We figured that." Brian's other coat pocket was filled with gauze, antiseptic wipes, packaged syringes, and other miscellaneous first aid supplies. "Anybody know how to give a shot?"
Elsa stepped forward. "I do. My sister-in-law is a diabetic. The family had to learn how to inject her with insulin, just in case." Her brow furrowed and she looked troubled. "How much do we give her?" Judith fetched the medical book and they went through it together.
Sam brushed the backs of his fingers over Laura's forehead. She felt hotter than before they'd left for the ship and her skin was tight under his fingers. As Judith and Elsa administered the injection, he prayed that they'd gotten the penicillin to her in time. There wasn't much else to be done, except try to make her comfortable.
Sam rubbed a hand across his eyes and suddenly felt bone weary. "We need to look at J.D.'s leg, too. There were wolves on the ship and one of them got J.D. pretty good."
"Oh, my." Judith's eyes were wide. "We'd better see what we can do."
J.D. was quiet during the examination. In the end, they decided to wipe it with the antiseptic and cover it loosely with gauze. Since they had a few vials of penicillin, the consensus was to give J.D. a shot, just to be on the safe side.
Sam sat with Laura for awhile, watching her carefully for any signs of distress. When it finally seemed that she was sleeping peacefully, he rose and stretched, wondering how long they'd have before they could leave the room to fetch the food they'd had to abandon in the snow. Brian and Elsa were tending the fire, being careful not to let it die down too far. The only other person awake was J.D.
J.D. sat in one of the big wing chairs, his injured leg propped up on an ottoman, with one of the huge tapestries covering him. Once upon a time, Sam might have pretended to ignore him, but now the lost expression on J.D.'s face wouldn't allow Sam to just let him be. He wandered over and sat on the table next to J.D.'s chair.
"Hey," Sam said softly. "How's the leg?"
J.D. blinked and looked up in surprise. "Hurts like hell, but at least I can feel it. I'm not frozen." The corners of his mouth quirked up in a brief smile. "Thanks for not leaving me behind."
Sam glanced at the fire. "Couldn't do that."
J.D. shook his head. "Yeah. You could've. But you didn't. You saved my life." He sighed softly.
Sam frowned as he watched J.D.'s expression turn brooding. They'd all made it--at least they were still alive so far--so what was J.D.'s problem? Sam's eyes widened as a thought occurred to him and he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it earlier. "You're worried about your little brother, aren't you?"
J.D. nodded. "The last time I talked to him, I told him I was coming to get him. There's no way that I can get to Philadelphia now."
"You said he's in a boarding school? What's it like?"
"The school? It's one of those old places, kind of like Pinehurst, you know? Been around for years."
"Old buildings? Maybe with fireplaces? Like the Library?" J.D.'s expression turned thoughtful and he nodded slowly, much to Sam's relief.
"The buildings are definitely that old. I remember fireplaces in several of the common rooms. Kind of like this." J.D. pulled a hand out from under his covers and gestured vaguely around the room.
"You told your brother you were coming to get him. Would he have stayed at the school?"
"Yeah. He would have." J.D. smiled a genuine smile this time. "He wouldn't have let anyone drag him out of there. I'll bet he's there now, keeping out of the storm. Keeping warm."
"If he's as smart as his older brother, then that's exactly what he's doing." Sam ducked his head. "When my dad gets here and the storm clears, I'll bet we can figure out a way to go get him."
J.D. looked at him curiously. "You're really sure your dad is coming, aren't you?"
Sam nodded. "He said he was. He won't break his promise. He'll be here."
J.D. smiled again. "I can't wait to meet him."
Sam grinned wryly. "You'll like him, I think." He stood up and gazed down at J.D. "You should get some sleep."
"Look who's talking." J.D. shrugged. "Make you a deal. I'll try to sleep if you will."
Sam blinked. "Um, okay. That sounds fair. I'll talk to you later."
He went back to the fire, touching Brian on the shoulder and motioning that he should go get some sleep. Sam sat in the chair next to the fireplace and tossed a few more books on the flames. He sat back and closed his eyes, thinking he'd rest for a bit, not believing he could fall asleep. They were all alive. They'd made it through the worst, for now. Whatever the future threw at them, it couldn't be any worse than this. Could it?
For the first time in hours, Sam allowed himself to wonder about his mom. She was a doctor, a valuable resource in any situation. Surely she would have been evacuated? He had no way of knowing, so he preferred to believe that was the truth. He pictured his mom somewhere in the south, where the air was still warm and the fear of freezing to death was just a bad dream and he felt a suspicious prickling behind his eyelids.
He was too tired to move out of the uncomfortable chair and the warmth and his exhaustion combined to drop him into sleep against his will. When the doors opened and the light shone in his face, he wondered if maybe he was in the middle of a dream.
Laura woke, the penicillin having done the trick, and asked, "Who is that?"
The flashlight lowered and Sam saw the most wonderful sight in the world. "My father." He smiled and made his way around the couch to throw his arms around his dad. "You made it." He held on tight, wanting nothing more than to stay there in his father's arms, to be a little boy again, back when his father could make everything better just by giving him a hug.
"Of course I did." Jack held him just as tightly and, for a few moments, everything was better.
They stepped back, but Jack kept his arm around Sam's shoulders. Jack glanced around the room, assessing the others and the situation. He surprised Sam by turning to him and smiling. "You did good, son. We've got some medical supplies and food. Tell us what you need and then tell me how you got through this."
Jack's automatic assumption that Sam was in charge, warmed Sam all the way through in a way that the fire hadn't. His dad was proud of him. Maybe this growing up stuff wasn't as bad as he'd been thinking after all. And for the first time since the storm hit, Sam wasn't afraid of what the future might hold.