Adam

THEY pulled the dressers out of two private rooms and pushed them up against the double doors. Nurse Herrick grabbed several sheets of paper from the printer and stapled them over the square windows.

"There's no other way in here?" Adam asked. "No stairwell? No--?"

"Just the windows, but we're three stories up."

"Do you keep any firearms in this wing?"

She shook her head.

"No weapons or--"

"Nothing. We deliver babies here, Pastor. We bring life into the world."

"How are we supposed to defend ourselves?"

"I suppose we could check the operating room."

Scalpels.

Retractors.

Scissors.

Forceps.

Clamps.

It was something, but not much.

"Where are the saws and the drills?" Adam asked, staring at the cold, steel operating table.

"First floor, orthopedics. That's where all the fun is."

Adam lifted a small scalpel, tried to imagine defending himself, his wife, his unborn child, from one of those monsters.

"How' the single-mom-to-be doing?"

"Scared."

He slipped the scalpel into the side pocket of his jeans.

"Shanna? Shanna Davies?" A twangy, male voice boomed over the hospital paging system. "Shanna, if you're in the hospital and can hear this, please call extension two-seven-nine-four. Shanna Davies call extension two-seven-nine-four."

A soft, female voice inside Room 12 said, "Come in."

Adam smiled and opened the door, left it open as he walked over to the bed where a young woman--nineteen, maybe twenty--sat propped up against a mountain of pillows.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, stopping at the foot of the bed.

She didn't have to answer. Her face said it all--terrified.

"Are we going to die?" she asked.

He didn't know how to answer that, so instead he gestured to a chair.

She nodded.

He pulled it over to the side of the bed.

"My wife's two doors down."

The girl smiled. "What are you having?"

"We haven't found out yet. We're going to let it be a surprise."

"I'm having a boy."

"How wonderful. Do you have a name picked out?"

"Tristan. What about you?"

"We're thinking Matthew if it's a boy, Daniella if it's a girl."

"That's pretty."

"I'm Adam, by the way." He offered his hand and she took it.

"Brittany."

"You're here alone?"

She nodded. "My baby's father...he left six months ago. My parents didn't want me to keep it, said if I did they wouldn't be involved. I didn't think they'd actually keep their word on that, but..." She gave a wry smile and he caught a whiff of the sass Brittany sported underneath the present fear. "...here I am, alone."

"You aren't alone."

"Oh, because God's with me?"

"I believe He's with all of us."

"Even those people who are getting slaughtered out there?"

"All of us. Brittany, would you like me to pray with you?"

"No thanks. How old are you?"

He laughed. "Why do you ask?"

"You're the youngest-looking pastor I ever saw."

"I'm thirty-two."

"Do you like being a pastor?"

"Sometimes I love it. Sometimes...it sucks."

Nurse Herrick appeared in the doorway. "Pastor, could you come with me?"

"What's wrong?"

She smiled. "Nothing. Just that your wife is getting ready to have a baby."

"Now?"

"Now."

As he came to his feet, the lights went out.