people milling about. Not many people and most have bandages on their bodies covering the wounds from the quake. Shock and confusion abound around the department and the staff members are overwhelmed by the number of people who have injuries that they are unable to treat. The theatres are damaged and there are so few personnel to perform surgery. With only three Doctors and six nurses left and over two hundred survivors with injuries ranging from minor to major there is little hope of being able to save everyone, and so many will not survive today or the days to come. I help where I can throughout the day. My old skills coming to the fore, I tend to minor wounds, check on drips and give pain medications. I do find myself present at the deaths of so many we are unable to help as they succumb to their injuries, the only help we can give them is pain medication so they do not suffer unduly. Sadness rules the memories I will carry of this day, closing the eyes of small children for the last time, seeing mothers and fathers crying for those already lost or for those who will be lost, it breaks my heart. Soon I am weeping too, along with the grieving community, grieving for them, for the friends I have lost and for myself and the life that was and will never be again.
In the meantime Rhys has found somewhere to set up camp and has pitched the tent and settled the children. The area is a cleared grass lawn close to the hospital, but with no buildings close and no trees. Ever mindful of the aftershocks, he has chosen well. The dogs are tied to the fire truck, one on each of the two sides, at the rear and the house dog is in the cabin. This will prevent others from taking what little we have, which is little enough to survive on for a few days and we do not know when we will be able to get more supplies. We are hoping that the government is able to help, but nothing has been heard here at Smithtown as to other survivors. We presume that we are on our own and take precautions to ensure that we can keep the children safe and the supplies as intact as possible. We will share with others, but under our own terms and not surrender to pressure. The dogs will be a good deterrent to those people who believe that they have the right of strength and might during these situations to take from others.
As darkness falls we huddle around the tent, talking about what we have seen and done during the day and wondering how many have survived in other towns and villages throughout the country. We are now f our days out from the quake and no contact from outside our area has been heard and survivors are trickling in slowly from the outlying villages to Smithtown. Yes, there are survivors, pitifully few though and most are injured, many are actively grieving the loss of family members and friends and everyone is in shock. That shock makes us all vulnerable at the moment and I wonder to myself how vulnerable we are, Rhys and I, three small children and four dogs.
Chapter 9
As the stars begin to sprinkle the sky we settle for the night, curled up with the children and puppy in the tent. Rest is very necessary for us now, it feels safer here, but how much safer I do not know. My thoughts run through the day as I compose myself for sleep. Visions of what I have seen, done and experienced over the last few days dance behind my closed eyelids and sleep is slow to come, but come it must as my weary body craves rest and recovery.
Sometime later I awake and s cramble out of the sleeping bag as I hear a low growl from Girlie who is tied to the fire truck. Ever alert, she is telling me that someone is around. There must be men around too as Girlie is one dog that cannot abide men due to abuse when she was young. I quietly move towards the flap of the tent and peer out. Hearing a rustle behind me I glance back and see Rhys also getting out of his sleeping bag. I signal for him to remain quiet until we know what is going on.
Girlie, Duke and Buster begin