Part 11 - May 20 The University Dorms

Carl pulled the bus onto the campus’ main drive with the second group of children. Sam had taken Nancy’s lead and sat up front with the toddlers. The children were tired and quiet as they stared gloomily out the windows. Sam had never seen a large group of children this quiet before.

Carl had been surprised when he pulled up to the firehouse to find Sam and the children with armloads of blankets, food supplies, and two more babies. Some of the children had sat down in the grass to snack on bags of chips and cookies while they waited. He had pushed the old bus as fast as he could, knowing Sam’s discomfort with children. He was not prepared for the view that awaited him. There was Sam with a smile, talking animatedly with a group of children as they waited for the bus. Carl shook his head, well, you just never know.

Carl opened the bus door and asked, “What have all of you been up to?”

Sam smiled. “Well, the kids suggested that we go around to the houses and check to see if there were any more babies, so we did,” she replied. “While we were at it, we gathered up blankets and food just in case we needed some supplies.” Sam shrugged and tipped her head at the children. “Their idea,” she finished.

Carl nodded. “Smart kids. Well, let’s get moving. I don’t want to leave the others alone any longer than I have to.”

Sam motioned for the children. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, time to get on the bus. Let the girls with the toddlers sit up front where Carl or I can help.” Not that I have any personal experience taking care of human babies, she berated herself.

As Carl pulled away from the fire station, Sam leaned closer to Carl and asked, “How’s the road to the school?”

Carl glanced up, looking at Sam in the overhead mirror, and said softly, “There’s a couple of very bad wrecks on the way, one burned out. Most of the cars on the road simply pulled over to the side as programmed to do. A few careened off into the brush and woods on the side of the road.”

Sam nodded, looking out the window silently as they drove by the houses and streets on the outskirts of town. The neighboring town down the road was off to the side where the new highway had bypassed the main street; she could just make out the buildings through the trees from the bus windows. Sam scanned the buildings, intensely aware of the lack of movement in the streets, giving the town an eerie aura.

Sam slumped back onto the cracked vinyl seat; the vibration of the bus motor transmitted through the seat and up her spine as the old bus grumbled down the road. She stared straight ahead as they climbed the ribbon of road flanked by tall pines on both sides. As they topped the ridge, Sam could see through the gap between the trees to a glint of the lake in the far, far distance. From this distance, the water appeared relatively calm today, the afternoon sunlight sparkling off the tips of tiny waves. It would have been a beautiful sight on any other day, but today she just stared numbly at one of her favorite views.

As Carl pulled onto the campus for the second time that day, Sam looked over the vacant grounds. Classes had just ended and summer break had begun. She had always loved this old university with its majestic trees and manicured gardens, all bursting into full foliage with this year’s new growth. Her professional life had started here, and now she was back as that life apparently had just taken a radical turn.

Student life on the campus cycled alongside the seasons. Students entered in the fall in a flurry of anticipation of working toward their life’s goals, immersing themselves into their classes until they were buried under a blizzard of work while any life outside of their program of studies was placed into deep hibernation. Then finally, one winter, these young adults would dig themselves out from under their last crush of studies and find themselves suddenly faced with the bright day of a rapidly approaching graduation. Then the campus would send them off into the world to bloom into their new lives. With their hard-earned diplomas clenched in hand, they scattered to the four winds to spread their new ideas far and wide.

She herself had left this campus several years ago, and now here she was, bringing the remnants of their civilization to this campus for shelter. Sam wondered if this would be a winter or a spring for mankind.

Her contemplations were broken when Carl spoke. “I dropped the first group off in front of the food court, so I’ll drop all of you off there as well. Tell the kids to leave the blankets and pillows on the bus and to only take the food supplies downstairs. I’ll drive the bus over to the dorm so we can unpack the rest after they eat.”

Sam nodded and walked to the back of the bus to deliver Carl’s directions.

She continued to watch out the windows at the familiar buildings, searching for any signs of life. Carl had worked at this campus for years with the agricultural college and, on occasion, he had assisted the mechanics and engineers who maintained all the old equipment on the school’s grounds. He knew every inch of this campus and knew exactly where to go as he drove them directly to the student union.

Unlike the stately colonial stone buildings that surrounded the quad, the building that housed the Student Union was a modern design. Carl would glare at that building and growl, “That damned abomination. It doesn’t belong here with these proud old stone buildings. Some politician’s kid, niece, or nephew designed that ugly brain fart and daddy had it built in honor of their personal bad taste.” Once he got on a rant, he’d continue, “Yeah, they had taste alright—and it was all in their ass.”

Sam could see Nancy, Tim, the children, and two other additional familiar faces waiting outside. Carl pulled the bus up, turned the motor off, opened the door, and without a word stepped off and up to the tall, thin man. They clasped hands and smiled, hugging each other fondly. Carl then bent and gave the short woman a gentle, affectionate hug. “It’s good to see you two.” He turned back to the bus and called out, “Alright, everyone off. Remember, only bring the food supplies you collected.”

Sam turned to the children. “Come on, everyone, let’s go.”

But before Sam could step off, Carl stepped back on and called back to the children over her shoulder. “As soon as all of you are off the bus, I’ll drive it over to the dorm where you’ll all stay for the night. After you eat, you can unload all the blankets and bedding supplies you collected and go find a room.”

Sam looked at him. “I just did that.”

Carl smiled. “They’re kids. You have to repeat things at least three times.”

When the last child departed the bus, Sam followed the group down into the food court. She joined Nancy and warmly greeted Helen and Frank. They then herded the second wave of refugees to the sandwich counter to get supper. The older women sat Sam down with a plate of food and took complete control of the children.

Sam had not realized how hungry she was until she started to eat, and then she plowed through the sandwich and went for a second bowl of the soup. It was not gourmet, but it felt great to have the food filling the empty void. Nancy waited for Sam to finish and then asked about the toddlers. Sam explained how the children had suggested they go look for more survivors and supplies. Nancy’s eyebrows rose, hearing how the younger woman had decided to expose the children to searching houses, but she held off making any comments for now.

“Well, the blankets will come in very handy,” Nancy commented. “Helen and Frank said there are beds, but students had to supply their own bedding. So, Frank and Tim planned to go around to some nearby houses to search for bedding, then we’ll take the children over to the dorm and organize them into rooms. Helen told me that the rooms can sleep three adults, but we can double the smallest children up together for tonight.”

Sam nodded. The food was kicking in, and now she wished she could just lie down and take a nap. How did Nancy look so bright and perky? Then Helen suddenly showed up at Sam’s elbow.

“Here, dear,” she handed Sam a hot cup of tea. “I think you’ve had a hard day as well,” Helen said as she placed the cup of tea in Sam’s hands. “You just sit here and catch your breath. We’ll start taking the children over to the dorms in a little while.”

Sam smiled and thanked Helen gratefully as she took the tea and just breathed in the steam. She could smell honey and sipped the hot liquid, relishing the warmth and flavor. She listened to the women talking as Nancy asked Helen if the men had left to go find more supplies. They talked quietly about the dorms and how to arrange the children, what to do about baths, what about clothes in the coming days; the conversation revolved around planning how to care for the children, each woman holding a baby while they spoke. Sam let the conversation fade to the background and concentrated on the cup of tea between her hands. Her mind had blocked out the conversation and she let her mind drift. Suddenly, she realized that Nancy was asking her if she was ready.

Sam shook herself and asked, “Ready for what?”

Helen smiled. “We’re going to walk the children over to the dorm now and start organizing room assignments. If you would like to stay here, just take your time.”

Sam blinked and said, “No, I’ll come. I think I’ve recovered a bit.”

They all started to walk away from the food court and up the stairway. Sam looked back and asked, “What about the food?”

Helen smiled. “Some of the children helped me put everything away since we’ll probably be back here tomorrow morning for breakfast.”

Sam turned to follow the women outside. Carl had the children remove the supplies from the bus that they had collected, and with their arms full of blankets or pillows, the group filed into the dormitory. Nancy and Helen, with the efficiency of a couple of boot camp sergeants, had the children dividing, the supplies sorted out, and marched them to their designated rooms for the night. At the door, Helen directed boys up the stairs and girls to the first floor. Nancy went up with the boys, and Sam could hear her directing age groups to certain areas. The sibling sets were gently assured as to the location of their brother or sister. The tears and fears were dealt with one or two children at a time. There was some excitement from some of the children; Sam thought either those children were in complete denial or very brave. But Nancy and Helen took each run, jump, whine, and cry with the veteran practice of women who had been there and seen it all in the classroom. Sam felt completely out of place and totally useless as she just stood and watched the two women efficiently handle every issue.

Sam felt a tug on her arm, and a little curly-haired girl asked her for some toilet paper. Sam looked around for a moment.

“I guess there’s a supply closet somewhere. Let’s see what we can find.” She forced a friendly smile for the child.

Sam walked down the hallway with the little girl on her heels to find supplies. As she walked by the rooms, she observed some girls jumping on the beds, some deciding who got the top bunk, but many huddled in corners of a bed, comforting each other. At the end of the hallway, Sam found the supply closet and, sure enough, there was the toilet paper. She grabbed five rolls and handed two to the little girl, who turned to run back down the hallway to the bathroom. Sam then headed back down the hall to put a roll of tissue in the other three bathrooms. Then she went back to the closet for five more rolls and walked up the stairs to Nancy and the boys.

Nancy traded Sam the toddler Mia for the rolls of toilet paper, then headed down the hallway barking orders in one room, then another. She came back up the hallway shaking her head. “There may not be as much drama with boys, but they make up for it with jumping around and tearing things up,” she stated as she took the baby back. “Thanks for the toilet paper. Things were about to get really ugly up here.” She turned, “Boys! Get down from there!” she yelled, and without missing a beat turned back to Sam. “Were there any towels or soap?”

Sam shook her head. “I didn’t see any. I guess we’ll have to make a list and go shopping,” she quipped.

Nancy smiled. “Yeah, we’ll all jump on the bus and go to town tomorrow,” she said with a cynical chuckle.

Sam walked back down the stairs just as the men were returning from their scavenger hunt. They had found three cribs, blankets, pillows, towels, and some stuffed toys. Sam held up a teddy bear and looked at Carl with a puzzled look.

Carl tipped his head toward the door. “The young man thought the little ones would like these,” he said as Tim entered with two large plastic bags full of stuffed toys. The squeals from the girls made it clear that this had been a great idea. The adults went around the building making sure all the children had a bed and a blanket, and did the best they could with the toys and pillows. Promises were made to find more tomorrow. Sam heard some requests and some demands to go home tomorrow. Most of the children had had enough of this field trip.

Things started to quiet down. Sam looked at her watch and it was 7:30. She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep for two days. She had taken a short nap after she had observed Cleo and her chicks. She wondered how the little owl was, then realized, she’ll do just fine, actually better than fine. The major environmental danger to her species had all but been eliminated from the equation. Mankind may now be the animal on the verge of extinction, and they had done it to themselves.

Over the next couple of hours, the children started drifting off to sleep. The physical and emotional traumas of the day had taken their toll, and they were all exhausted. The older children stepped up to help care for the younger children, many imitating the example set by Tim.

Carl and Frank had the cribs set up in one of the larger suites where Nancy and Helen were taking care of the babies and organizing a nursery. A few of the older girls were there, their concern and interest for the babies adorably genuine. Nancy explained later to Sam that it was one way for the girls to avoid dealing with their own reality—especially the girl Shelby, who had gone off on her own to check her home, only to find her mother affected as so many other adults had been.

Nancy and Helen tucked the babies into the cribs and crossed the hallway to the common room in the middle of the dorm building. The other adults sat in silence, each with their own thoughts, solemnly reviewing the day’s events. Helen had made another pot of tea and herded the adults to chairs where she served everyone a cup of tea. Sam sat in an overstuffed chair and sank down comfortably, willing the tension, muscle by muscle, to relax.

The sound of an outer door opening and closing echoed down the hall, interrupting their thoughts. Nancy started to rise, thinking one of the children had gotten out of bed, but Frank waved her back down into her chair as he stood and went to the common room door to peer down the hall to investigate the sound. Frowning, he gestured with his hand for whoever it was to be quiet and come into the common room.

Everyone turned their attention to the common room entrance as Frank ushered two young people into the room. The two glanced around at the rest of the group, looking as exhausted as the rest of them felt, but there was a haunted look in their eyes. Frank motioned the two newcomers to chairs and offered them some of the tea that Helen had brewed for the group. They took the offered cups and mumbled subdued gratitude. They glanced over the brims of their cups at the people in the room, who patiently waited for them.

Frank spoke first. “This is Geoff and Amy. They’re a couple of pre-med students who have been running a summer research project down at the athletic complex with the sports teams.” Everyone sat silently, waiting for the two, sipping tea, to speak.

Frank finally broke the silence, asking, “Are you kids alright?”

The young man looked up from his tea. “Yeah, Frank, we’ll be alright, but everyone down at the sports center isn’t.” He paused, then continued, “They just all stopped in place, in mid-stride—one kid stopped in the middle of a hurdle. I think his leg is broken in two places.” Everyone waited for Geoff to continue, but the silence stretched on.

Amy spoke then. “We tried to call out for help, but all the lines were dead. Geoff ran up to the medical office and found the emergency staff and everyone else in the same state. While Geoff was trying to find some help, I started with standard basic checks of all our systems. I started running diagnostics on the mainframe, thinking that our system had screwed a major worm through the whole program, but still, everything came back clean. But nothing could explain why everyone just stopped—everyone, all at the same time—like someone just flipped a switch. Then we asked why we didn’t stop. What set us apart? That’s when we realized it was the WWN. We were connected to the same system, weren’t we? Then it dawned on us that Geoff and I were plugged into our own dedicated system for this experiment. Because our system was experimental, it was not connected to the WWN.”

Geoff found his voice again. “Then Amy realized that we had to stay on our dedicated system. If we opened our link and reconnected to the WWN, we would probably end up like everyone else. I nearly fainted. If we had switched off our system, we would be just like all the athletes.”

Amy nodded, then continued. “That’s when we knew for sure that the crash was the WWN, and then we realized we were all screwed. Sorry, Helen.” She grimaced her apology to the older woman for the crudity.

“Dear, I would swear too if I was that frustrated. Did your team lose the game?” Helen leaned over and patted Amy’s hand. “We’ve all had a very bad day, and my shows were off the air all day.”

The group looked at Helen. Frank put a protective arm around his wife and smiled sheepishly to everyone. They sat quietly for a time when Carl looked at Sam and said, “Sammy, when was the last time you slept?”

Sam blinked and stared vacantly around.“Uh, what day is it?” She shook her head and thought, Let’s see, I went down to the corporate office Monday, got back to camp around 3:30 p.m., made my observation that night and tried to sleep for a couple of hours. Came back to base camp that day and… I guess I’ve been up almost 36 hours now, she finished haltingly.

Nancy and Helen were on their feet, hustling the younger woman off to a bed.

“No wonder you look like you’re dead on your feet—you are,” Helen stated. “No sleep for that long, and then you come to help Nancy here with this field trip. You’ve done enough; time for everyone to sleep. We’ll just have to deal with whatever is left to clean up in the morning, right after breakfast.”

With that, everyone parted ways to find rooms and try to get some kind of sleep.