Free The Hole by William Meikle

to be more, we’ll need somewhere with space for them all.”
    That seemed to get Bill moving. He stood up, straightened, and was once more the strong cop she knew.
    “I’ll get them to open up the church hall. That’s in the area that still has power, so we’ll get heat, running water, and someplace we can get some food into folks. Big enough for you?”
    “It’ll do. For now.”
    * * *
    Bill had the church hall opened, and Janet helped with getting it set up as an emergency center. Supplies were few and far between, even after scavenging what they could from the police department, the supermarket and shops, and Janet’s own surgery. Bill had put out calls for urgent emergency assistance to County but Janet knew all too well the glacial speed at which local, and hospital management in particular, came to decisions, and she wasn’t holding out too much hope of getting any help before morning. She had to make the best of what they had. With over a hundred walking wounded, and more coming in all the time, it was obvious the supplies weren’t going to stretch too far.
    That wasn’t the only cause for concern. Many of the wounded had their heads down, hunched over their cell phones, attempting to make calls. Nobody could get a signal. One teenager wailed, inconsolably, as if he’d lost a member of his family. An elderly gentleman that Janet didn’t know said what was on a lot of their minds.
    “What if it’s like this all over? What if the whole country, the whole world, is going to pot? Maybe there is no help out there.”
    Janet had her hands full, not only with treating wounds, but in trying to calm an increasingly agitated group.
    “Can we move them?” Bill asked when she expressed her concerns on one of his return visits.
    “What, all of them?”
    He nodded.
    “I ain’t too happy staying here, what with the possibility of a fresh cave-in at any moment.”
    “You think that’s likely?”
    “You think it isn’t?”
    He had her there. She’d put such thoughts to the back of her mind while treating the wounded, but now that the back of that task was broken, she had time to think…too much time.
    “You’ve got a point. I take it you have a plan?” she asked.
    “I think we need to evacuate,” Bill said. “At least until we can check that it’ll be safe to return. If I sequester all the school buses, taxis and trucks in the area, we should be able to ferry everybody out at once.”
    “Does everybody know?”
    Bill nodded.
    “I had what men I could spare going round knocking on doors. A lot of them have left already, and the rest know that we’re gathering around here. I just have to round up enough drivers for the buses.”
    “I’ll do what I can here to get us ready for moving,” she replied. “Most are mobile enough, and fit to make a journey. As long as it’s not too far.”
    Bill whispered, so that only she could hear.
    “That’s what I’m worried about. How far do we need to go? I plan to head for the county hospital, as long as we can get out of town without mishap. How’s that for a plan?”
    She smiled thinly.
    “It’ll do, until something better comes along. A bit like you, really.”
    He surprised her by taking her into his arms and hugging her tight.
    “Don’t be going anywhere until I get back,” he said, and headed out into the wounded town.

 
     
     
    9
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Fred was back on a stool at The Roadside, drunk, but not as drunk as he wanted to be. A steady stream of distraught and bewildered townsfolk arrived in search of something, anything, to block out the sights they had just seen. Others had gone to see what they could do to help out at the church hall, and Fred felt a pang of guilt as he watched them leave…but not enough to shift him from his stool. He knew that if he saw even one blonde, he wouldn’t be able to do much except weep, maybe scream. He tossed some beer down after his latest JD and ordered another of each.
    The television was