The Survivors Trilogy, Book 3
This is the final book in the end-time trilogy by David Mckay. Like the other two books, "Survivors" and "Listening," "Destroyers" covers roughly the same period in Earth's history, but in a different location through the eyes of a different person.
This book looks at world events from the perspective of a poor, handicapped teenager living in a remote village in Kenya.
For Moses, the major events of the world are of little consequence except as they relate to his daily needs; but in the process of trying to get ahead he finds himself traveling the world and even playing a key role in events that shape history.
Will success bring him happiness? Or will it destroy him?
There is something of Moses Chikati in each of us.
"Please, Madam, I have a trouble... please."
It was very late on a Friday night in January. An unseasonal light rain was falling. Amy Walker had sent Benjamin to the door in response to a weak knock.
"Open it, Benjie," she said when Benjamin hesitated at opening to a stranger so late at night. Amy was fully occupied holding Karla, the youngest of nine orphans who lived with her. Benjie, at 18, was the oldest, and he had awakened her when the baby started vomitting.
Light from the lantern on the ﬂoor was visible from the road. It was the only light still showing on that side of the village.
"Wah! What happened?" Benjie exclaimed in shock as he opened the door. The young boy slumped into Benjie's arms before he could answer.
"Winky, it's Moses Chikati! He's bleeding! Real bad!" Benjie struggled to hold the boy up and deal with the blood at the same time. Moses Chikati, the 14-year-old son of a local butcher, had been tightly holding his right bicep prior to the collapse, but when he let go, blood poured from below the elbow of his badly cut forearm.
Amy laid Karla on the ﬂoor and rushed to Benjie's aid. What she saw would have been too much for most people, but not her. The lad's forearm had been badly broken, just below the elbow. It had been sliced halfway through, causing it to dangle as though separated. Fortunately the main arteries did not appear to have been severed.
"Lay him here, and wake Anna, ay," Amy told Benjie. At 16, Anna was the second oldest of the orphans.
Amy elevated the injured arm, to minimise blood ﬂow, and squeezed hard just above his elbow. It took both her hands to do it, one encircling the skinny bicep, and the other struggling to keep the half-severed piece in line with the rest of the arm.
When Benjie returned with Anna, they used an old rag to make a tourniquet, which Amy applied, before resting the entire arm on the boy's stomach and carrying him to Amy's old Hi-Ace. Benjie climbed in ﬁrst and then helped pull Moses in after him. He had to kneel over the lanky body that lay in the aisle between the seats.
Anna stayed to clean up the blood and care for the children, while Amy and Benjie headed for the hospital. Amy had thought of taking Karla too, but knew it was just a matter of time before the baby's fever would break, and this was far more urgent.
In the wet, slippery conditions, she had to struggle to keep the vehicle from sliding off either side of the road on the ten kilometre trip to Kakamega. They reached the hospital in half an hour, a good time in the wet, especially at night.
Moses was still breathing, but his heartbeat was weak as they carried him into the hospital. The night nurse called for the doctor, and Amy, who was type O, donated blood, which was given to him while they waited. When the medico arrived, he assured her that Moses would be ﬁne. Amy and Benjie then left for the journey home