Under the Dome

“More than welcome,” Barbie said, shaking with her. Then he turned to Thurston. The man had the fishbelly grip Barbie associated with guys whose intelligence-to-exercise ratio was out of whack.

They started out after the kids. At the double doors, Thurston Marshall looked back. A shaft of hazy sun from one of the high windows struck across his face, making him look older than he was. Making him look eighty. “I edited the current issue of Ploughshares, ” he said. His voice quivered with indignation and sorrow. “That is a very good literary magazine, one of the best in the country. They had no right to punch me in the stomach, or laugh at me.”

“No,” Barbie said. “Of course not. Take good care of those kids.”

“We will,” Carolyn said. She took the man’s arm and squeezed it. “Come on, Thurse.”

Barbie waited until he heard the outer door close, then went in search of the stairs leading to the Town Hall conference room and kitchen. Julia had said the fallout shelter was half a flight down from there.

7

Piper’s first thought was that someone had left a bag of garbage beside the road. Then she got a little closer and saw it was a body.

She pulled over and scrambled out the car so fast she went to one knee, scraping it. When she got up she saw it wasn’t one body but two: a woman and a toddler. The child, at least, was alive, waving its arms feebly.

She ran to them and turned the woman onto her back. She was young, and vaguely familiar, but not a member of Piper’s congregation. Her cheek and brow were badly bruised. Piper freed the child from the carrier, and when she held him against her and stroked his sweaty hair, he began to cry hoarsely.

The woman’s eyes fluttered open at the sound, and Piper saw that her pants were soaked with blood.

“Li’l Walter,” the woman croaked, which Piper misheard.

“Don’t worry, there’s water in the car. Lie still. I’ve got your baby, he’s okay.” Not knowing if he was or not. “I’ll take care of him.”

“Li’l Walter,” the woman in the bloody jeans said again, and closed her eyes.

Piper ran back to her car with her heart beating hard enough for her to feel it in her eyeballs. Her tongue tasted coppery. God help me, she prayed, and could think of nothing else, so she thought it again: God, oh God help me help that woman.

The Subaru had air-conditioning, but she hadn’t been using it in spite of the heat of the day; rarely did. Her understanding was that it wasn’t very eco-friendly. But she turned it on now, full blast. She laid the baby on the backseat, rolled up the windows, closed the doors, started back toward the young woman lying in the dust, then was struck by a terrible thought: what if the baby managed to climb over the seat, pushed the wrong button, and locked her out?

God, I’m so stupid. The worst minister in the world when a real crisis comes. Help me not to be so stupid.

She rushed back, opened the driver’s door again, looked over the seat, and saw the boy still lying where she had put him, but now sucking his thumb. His eyes went to her briefly, then looked up at the ceiling as if he saw something interesting there. Mental cartoons, maybe. He had sweated right through the little tee-shirt beneath his overall. Piper twisted the electronic key fob back and forth in her fist until it broke free of the key ring. Then she ran back to the woman, who was trying to sit up.

“Don’t,” Piper said, kneeling beside her and putting an arm around her. “I don’t think you should—”

“Li’l Walter,” the woman croaked.

Shit, I forgot the water! God, why did You let me forget the water?

Now the woman was trying to struggle to her feet. Piper didn’t like this idea, which ran counter to everything she knew of first aid, but what other option was there? The road was deserted, and she couldn’t leave her out in the blaring sun, that would be worse and more of it. So instead of pushing her back down, Piper helped her to stand.

“Slow,” she said, now holding the woman around the waist and guiding her staggering steps as best she could. “Slow and easy does it, slow and easy wins the race. It’s cool in the car. And there’s water.”

“Li’l Walter!” The woman swayed, steadied, then tried to move a little faster.

“Water,” Piper said. “Right. Then I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Hell… Center.”

This Piper did understand, and she shook her head firmly. “No way. You’re going straight to the hospital. You and your baby both.”

“Li’l Walter,” the woman whispered. She stood swaying, head down, hair hanging in her face, while Piper opened the passenger door and then eased her inside.