Meanwhile, Bailey played happily with her toys on the soft blanket Minji had spread on the cold marble floor. The baby had finished her bottle, then eaten lukewarm mashed peas and beef. Now she yammered in baby language while tossing her stuffed dog around. Apple wedges smeared with peanut butter sat in an open plastic container Minji had fished out of the diaper bag after feeding Bailey. She’d eaten a few, but had been unable to
compel Ava to take a bite.
Arthur and Simone were also eating. They’d found a refrigerator full of employee lunches and helped themselves.
“It’s not like they’re going to eat it,” Arthur had said in response to Minji’s uncertain expression.
Trying again, Minji regarded Ava with dismay. “Please, Ava. Take a sip for Mommy.”
“Heeeeeeeeee...” Ava hissed.
Minji took a long gulp from the bottle. “See, Ava, that’s what you need to do. Drink.” She poked at Ava’s lips again. Feeling desperate, she drizzled a little bit of water into Ava’s mouth. It ran out of the corners in clear rivulets.
“Tip her head back and pour it in,” Arthur suggested.
“Really? That’s your solution.” Simone arched an eyebrow.
“She’ll either choke or swallow,” Arthur answered. “It’s not like I’m suggesting you drown the kid. Sheesh. It’s a bottle of water.” Shaking his head, he continued to eat a tuna sandwich he had loaded with potato chips.
Again Minji took a sip before encouraging Ava to drink. This time Ava swallowed. With a grin of delight, Minji kissed her daughter’s cheek. “That’s my smart girl! Drink more, Ava.”
To her relief, Ava drank half the bottle before pulling her head away. It was such a normal gesture Minji almost wept with delight. She tried to feed Ava the apples, but it soon became clear that Ava wasn’t about to cooperate when it came to the food. After a while, Minji wiped the peanut butter and bits of apple from Ava’s lips and placated herself with the thought that Ava had eaten a large breakfast. She couldn’t allow herself to contemplate what would happen if Ava continued not to eat.
“Are you paying attention to the news at all?” Arthur asked Minji as he unwrapped a Twinkie.
“They just keep saying the same thing. Showing the same footage over and over again,” Minji answered.
The news kept replaying clips they’d ripped from social media: the planes going down outside of Las Vegas, people stumbling about in large crowds, car crashes, burning buildings, and the same map with an enormous red circle that showed the affected area. It swallowed most of the West Coast, portions of Mexico, and was creeping into the Midwest and Deep South.
“They’re showing Texas,” Arthur said. “Aren’t you from Texas?”
Studying the screen, Minji noted that the live feed was from somewhere in East Texas. According to the big red circle, Austin was already in the throes of the event. It only added to the heavy burden of her worry. Now she wasn’t just worried about the grandparents, but her brother’s family, her friends, and her many clients.
“...volunteer is with the National Guard. They’ve secured a harness to him that is attached to some ropes. The plan is for him to walk into the affected area…”
The reporter, a young woman with chin length blond hair, narrated in breathy, rushed words. Minji noticed the woman’s big blue eyes were rimmed with red and puffy. She’d probably been crying before going on the air.
“He’s wearing a gas mask and the hope is that he’ll be able to save some of the victims before they reach the lake. The authorities believe that just beyond that road is where the event has come to a halt.”
Minji snapped the lid back onto the container of apple wedges and tried to ignore the tragedy playing out on the television. After all she’d witnessed, it was easy to predict the outcome. Digging her cellphone out of the messenger bag, she checked for bars. She still didn’t have any. With a sigh, she found her gaze straying toward the television.
The anchorman and woman at the national news desk of the network made a few comments, basically reiterating what the reporter had already said. Behind the reporter, a thick crowd of the mesmerized stumbled through an open field toward a placid blue lake in the background. With a sinking heart, Minji realized most were children.
“…hoping if this is successful, they can send more guardsmen into the affected area and retrieve the people walking toward the lake. Residents who live along the lake outside of the perimeter have reported bodies in the water. It’s assumed those bodies are the victims of this terrifying event.”
Behind the news correspondent the guardsman started his rescue run. Several men and women in uniform stood ready, their gloved hands gripping the thick rope. Yellow tape was strung along the edge of the road creating a barrier. The guardsman stepped over it and into the field.
“It’s not going to work,” Simone said dismally, shaking her head.
“But it has to,” Arthur protested. “It has to work. How else are they going to save everyone?”
“Gas masks didn’t work earlier,” Minji said sadly, recalling the death of the doctor earlier. “They won’t work now.”
The female reporter continued her steady stream of repeated information, then attempted to narrate the guardsman’s journey toward the mesmerized.
Then it happened.
The guardsman stumbled then fell into step with the rest of the mesmerized. Communication ceased between the guardsman and the makeshift staging area and panic ensued. Instantly, he was dragged out of the event radius. Jerking the volunteer about, one of the medics tugged off his gas mask. The cameraman zoomed in on the man’s face. The all-too-familiar blank-eyed stare was caught in an eerie close-up.