by Kent Reaper
* * * * *
"I-it was the only way to get you to agree. I did what I had to do for my family!"
"I… I can't believe I didn't see this coming." Kenneth stared at the man who saved his life and then damned him to hell. The end of the revolver barrel pointing stoically at Mr. Karcher's head trembled in Kenneth's hand.
Mr. Karcher raised his hands in protest.
"If killing me will appease you, Doctor Cook, then do it. But please, leave Sarah and my baby alone."
"Heh." Kenneth couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't help but start breaking out in hysterics. Was this man stupid? At least back in Ward 29 he had a slim chance of making it out alive. But here? Mr. Karcher had sealed them to their fates with his rash decisions and infectious persuasion.
Persuasion that Kenneth was gullible enough to fall for.
This theater that was to be his path to freedom suddenly transformed into his tomb. A shade of crimson anger rushed to Kenneth's cheeks.
There's no way I'm going to die in here, not when I haven't found her yet.
He gave the automatic doors a brief glance, watching in horror as the horde of infected outside outnumbered the bullet chambers in his revolver.
Assuming they didn't take their chances with the ranks of infected attempting to break in, they would die a slow death, gradually weakening from starvation, from thirst, going mad from the haunting moans that permeated the theater.
"What's the use of having your child delivered when we're all going to die in here?"
"I-I don't know!" Mr. Karcher pleaded. "I… I wasn't thinking straight. All I wanted was for you to save them! Fuck!"
Kenneth watched as Mr. Karcher held his head in his hands, probably realizing the futility of his plan and the sudden gravity of the situation.
For the first time since his world fell apart, Kenneth poured his hate into the man in front of him. He realized that it wouldn't eat him up inside that badly if he vented his anger on Mr. Karcher via a bullet to the forehead.
"Can you stand taking an innocent child's father away?" Mr. Karcher asked, standing stoically in front of Mrs. Karcher who cradled their newborn in her arms. If he was going down, he was going to make damned sure that not a single bullet landed on his family.
Damn.
Kenneth lowered his gun at last. Plunging his fist hard into the wall, he gritted his teeth under the pain of bad decisions before heading into the supply closet. There were a few things inside that he could probably use to reinforce the barricade further, but for how long, he did not know.
"So? What now?" Kenneth roared, his tone oscillating between justified anger and seething sarcasm.
Mr. Karcher looked down and remained silent, unable to bring himself to meet Kenneth's eye.
"They're not going get my baby, there's no chance in hell I'm ever going to let that happen."
"Calm down honey, they're not going to reach you, I promise.' Mr. Karcher tried reassuring his wife, though Kenneth noted with idle interest that it was obviously not working.
"Over my dead body! They'll have to kill me first before they can even touch him!"
"How're you holding up Mrs. Karcher?" Kenneth asked, trying not to think about impending death constantly attempting to break down the doors of hope.
"I was expecting to be resting by now, doctor. But," Mrs. Karcher shrugged, gesturing towards the horde outside. "Guess god isn't giving me any room to breathe huh?"
"Rest here the best you can ma'am, while your myopic husband and I think of a way out."
Kenneth looked at Mr. Karcher, disgusted that the man before him was allowing himself to wallow in self-pity.
"What kind of husband are you? Can't you see that your wife's uncomfortable on the hard table like that? I saw linen in the supply closet, go help her out!"
"Y-yes Doctor Cook." Mr. Karcher stuttered, rushing past him, glad that they were finally on speaking terms again, even just barely.
Kenneth wracked his brains. The apart from the automatic double doors that would be shattered first before they budged, there seemed to be simply no other exit available to them.
He looked up at the glass panel above them.
That's the observation deck, where doctors could observe the procedure happening down here. Kenneth knew. He had stood witness to several lifesaving operations himself. The good thing was, as far as he could see, that deck was clear.
The only problem was that apart from shooting out the glass and fashioning some sort of rope before somehow fastening it up there, there was simply no way for everybody to escape, especially when there was a baby that had to be a carried and a mom who couldn't even sit up at the moment.
Well, Kenneth thought, at least the baby was born safely, for the time being.
Jenny, if you were here, what would you do?
Suddenly, the hope to live that was slowly leaving him returned all at once. Kenneth saw a vent on the on the wall, a vent that seemed large enough for him to squeeze through. His mind wandered back to his fourth day as a hospital intern.
"Doctor Ross? What's that vent for?" He asked in the cheeriest voice he had.
"Operating theaters have to be as sterile as possible. That vent recycles the air through a filter and sends the unwanted contaminants to the roof and out of here." Doctor Ross replied tersely and to the point.
Kenneth liked that about him, a no-nonsense kind of guy that he had learnt heaps from. Though now all that had come to pass.
The moans of the living dead outside brought Kenneth back to frightening reality. There was no time to lose. Rushing over to the vent, he blew the cover away with a single, well-placed kick.
Mr. and Mrs. Karcher turned to look, startled by the noise.
"Oh my god, dear, look! There is a way." Mr. Karcher said, his heartbeat rising from unstoppable excitement.
Kenneth's palms began to sweat and feel clammy. The infinite blackness of the vent staring back at him was like a literal leap into the unknown. But anything was better than hanging around here waiting to die.
"Mrs. Karcher, you've been through more than enough already, but I beseech you, in light of the situation outside, can you find your own strength to escape with us?" Kenneth asked, hoping against hope that she could. After all, Kenneth thought, if she could endure such a traumatic birth, a woman like that could probably handle anything.
"Arrrgh, damn!" Mrs. Karcher swore as she struggled to sit up.
"Doctor, you see how useless my husband is? His wife obviously needs help and what do you think he's doing?"
"Oh, right dear, let me help." Mr. Karcher finally snapped out of his daze. He took the baby from his wife and offered his shoulder as support as she tried to pull herself up.
"I'm sorry doctor; I'm normally not as bitchy as this. It's probably just the stress and everything."
Kenneth nodded. "I know what you mean. I get stressed too knowing the only girl I even remotely cared about is probably trapped somewhere in the next block and I can't do a damn thing to save her."
"You saved me, Doctor, and my baby when you had every opportunity to leave back then. I think the girl you're talking about would have liked you if you asked."
"Thanks Mrs. Karcher. I guess it's all too late now. I guess I'll just do what I can."
Mrs. Karcher stood up unsteadily, one hand holding her husband's shoulder in a vice grip while the other clutched her stomach.
"Hold on." Kenneth said as he rushed into the medical supply closet and came out with a roll of bandages.
"Here." He said. "That should hopefully hold until we get to some real help."
"Thank you." Mrs. Karcher smiled. "Dammit Adam, thank the nice doctor!"
"Thanks, Doctor Cook." Mr. Karcher said quietly.
"I'm sorry for lying to you." He added.
"Whatever. We have a chance to escape now; we better take it while it lasts."
Kenneth looked at the automatic double doors. They had taken enough punishment and looked like they were about to -
"Mwarrgh!"
Everybody cringed and turned away as the glass doors shattered at last. The infected fell over themselves clambering over the makeshift barricades - the last bastion of safety separating the living from the infected - for the fresh rewards on the other side.
"Honey… honey… I'm bleeding."
"Oh shit! Doctor Cook! I need your help, please!"
"Don't, Adam. Take the baby and leave me."
"No!"
"Do it, dammit! Go before it's too late!"
Kenneth froze in shock as he saw the horde shatter the glass doors at last. The pathetic excuse for a barricade only slowed them down as the infected threw their bodies at it without a second thought.
Mrs. Karcher took two steps towards the vent and collapsed onto the ground.
"Go, dammit! There's no way I can climb inside the vent, not on my own, not with your help. The boy, our kids, wherever they are, they can't lose another parent. Go Adam, I love you, now get the fuck out of here!"
Mr. Karcher knelt down beside his wife, letting her see her baby boy for one last fleeting second.
Kenneth wished this moment, before the horde broke through, could last forever. But of course, it passed on by too quickly as Kenneth ran to the operating table and grabbed two scalpels.
"Here, Mrs. Karcher." Kenneth said in all manner of urgency as he pressed the cool metal blade stained with her blood into her palms. "Hold out as long as you can. If there were any other way…"
"Thank you, Doctor. You're a doctor no matter what anyone else says, and you've done more than enough. I'll make sure none of them come after you, I promise."
"Mr. Karcher, we have to go, now!"
"Just a second longer, just a -"
Mrs. Karcher pulled her husband in for a final word as the moans of the infected finally drenched the operating theater.
The first of the infected burst through the barricade at last. Kenneth grabbed a distraught Mr. Karcher and made a break towards the vent.
"Follow me, and no matter what happens, no matter what you hear, don't you dare fucking stop!" Kenneth screamed into Mr. Karcher's face, trying his best not to let the endless stream of tears in the eyes of both father and baby unnerve him.
"Goodbye dear. I love you."
"Raise our kids well!" Mrs. Karcher voice echoed off the metal walls of the vent as the two men and the baby slowly wormed their way out of the sounds of violence.
"I'll get you! And you! None of you are getting past… none of you…"
A sudden, long, final scream coming from behind tore through the vent and chilled Kenneth to the bone as he struggled to keep going, groping his way through the narrow darkness.
"Don't cry…" Mr. Karcher said as in a futile attempt to pacify his wailing son. The noise was not good, possibly signaling to every infected person in the vicinity of their location.
"Don't cry my son, mommy has gone… to a better place." Mr. Karcher choked up.
Kenneth felt sick to his stomach. Under any other circumstance, Kenneth almost felt like he could have become a family friend to them. Maybe he was already considered one. But alas, the world waits for no one.
With his knees chafing against the vent metal, Kenneth gritted his teeth and resolved to pick up the pace when the literal light at the end of the tunnel was became the greatest motivation he could ever receive.
"Mr. Karcher! Mr. Karcher?"
"Yes, Doctor Cook?"
"I… I think I see the exit!"
Kenneth kicked the exit vent open and emerged into the light.
The roof was a vast plain of crushed gravel, its flat ground intermittently interrupted by a humming external air-conditioning unit. It was empty and quiet, exactly how he liked it. His feet crunched gravel as he took uneasy steps towards the rooftop ledge and looked down.
Bodies, blood, carnage was everywhere. Kenneth pulled back immediately to stop himself from puking.
The movements he heard behind him when he was climbing through the vent morphed into footsteps approaching him. Kenneth looked back.
Mr. Karcher looked at him. His son cried in his arms while the blood of untold infected humans soaked his shirt. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Karcher."
Mr. Karcher shook his head.
"They came too fast. She couldn't even get up, much less make it through with us. She died saving her son, she died saving me."
"I know." Kenneth said quietly.
"Unless you can bring her back, shut the fuck up."
Startled, Kenneth elected to keep silence. The man had just lost his wife. Kenneth didn't even want to think about it. He muttered a silent prayer for her to himself before looking up into the sky, curious what that faint buzzing sound was. A news helicopter covering the area hovered overhead.
"HEY! OVER HERE!" Kenneth shouted, waving his arms frantically.
Mr. Karcher joined in the shouting. Watching with immeasurable joy as the chopper neared them.
"We're saved, I can't believe it, we're saved!" Kenneth couldn't help the tears flowing down his cheeks, "if only Sarah was here to see this."
After all that he had gone through, this nightmare was about to end. He shuddered to think about what happened to Jenny, hoping against hope that she was alright while resolving to go after her whereabouts when this crisis had blown over. He did what he could, and he was content to leave it at that.
The helicopter landed, as rough wind screeched in Kenneth's ears.
He approached the chopper as the door opened. Inside, a reporter and curious cameraman stared back at them, probably intending to barter a good story out of them in return for safe passage out.
Kenneth took one look inside the helicopter and froze.
"We can only take the baby and one of you, the chopper can't fly overloaded with the both of you on board!"
He looked at Mr. Karcher.
"I'm sorry, Doctor Cook."
Kenneth didn't know what the hell to do. He wanted to leave, to at least get to the ground where he could enter the pediatric block. But anything could happen while the chopper flew him down, if they were even willing to do so in the first place. Could he bear leaving a father and his baby to certain, gruesome death?
"Your boy has already lost his mother. He can't afford to lose his dad as well." Kenneth said quietly, unable to believe the words coming out of his mouth. As much as he was fighting against himself, Kenneth felt that it was the least he could do for Mrs. Karcher.
Besides, Jenny was probably still somewhere in the hospital, trapped somewhere, or worse… he had to find her. Somehow, he would find a way to get to the next block even without the helicopter's help.
Mr. Karcher nodded.
"After all I did… thank you. Before I left Sarah, do you know what she said? What her last words were?"
Kenneth shook his head. In any other scenario, that gun weighing him down inside his white coat would be firmly in his hand as he ensured his own survival. But somehow, Kenneth didn't know why but he had a feeling that he could die satisfied knowing that he had done one good thing in his life.
"Our boy, his name will be Kenneth. Kenneth Adam Karcher."
"Kenneth huh? That's a fine name." Kenneth replied, smiling at the crying baby wrapped in a towel in his father's arms.
"Get out of here. Make sure your boy doesn't grow up in the horrors of this world."
Mr. Karcher nodded as he entered the chopper, baby snug in his arms.
"Doctor Cook, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"Everything I've done to you."
"Mr. Karcher, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be here in the first place. I'm still alive, aren't I?"
"I'm sorry. I had no choice. I should have known you'd let us go, but I couldn't take the chance. You're right, this boy needs his father. I'm so sorry."
Confusion hit Kenneth.
"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked.
But his words fell on deaf ears as the helicopter
door slid shut behind father and baby. He watched as the chopper ascended into the air, hovering round the hospital before flying off to safety.
Then Kenneth collapsed.
He looked down and saw a syringe stuck deep into his right calf.
What the… how did I not feel this coming?
As he sat on the crushed gravel, he pulled the syringe out of his leg, unsure of how to feel about Mr. Karcher's latest betrayal. Anger, apathy, twisted humor surfaced in his mind. But mostly, he was trying to figure out how Mr. Karcher managed to inject him without being noticed. This man was neither a friend nor savior from the start. Nothing was above Mr. Karcher as he did whatever he could to save his family, even threatening and lying to Kenneth. Kenneth finally understood that now, sadly, he couldn't bring himself to blame Mr. Karcher.
For some reason, Kenneth finally understood the new state of the world he lived in at this moment, where no one could be trusted, where every man was literally out for himself or his family. It was Kenneth who refused to adapt, and now, he was facing the consequences of his good intentions.
It was too late for regrets anyway. Now, he definitely couldn't even find Jenny.
The prospect of never knowing what happened to her, to his parents no matter how tumultuous their relationship, the prospect of being denied closure was something Kenneth had never to hurt.
The local anesthesia had spread to his legs, rendering him immobile.
He looked at the city skyline. A single tear fell from his cheek as he saw numerous towers of black smoke clouding the sky. The sound of distant gunfire as the military moved in stunned him. Screams of pain, violence, everything he didn't want to see was right in front of him.
"Mwarrrgh."
The doors to the roof had burst open and a horde of infected had come spilling out towards him at last. Was this punishment for his selfish thoughts, his last grave mistake as a hospital intern, or the death of Mrs. Karcher from Kenneth's incompetence?
No, this was merely a consequence of Mr. Karcher's harmful actions.
Kenneth couldn't believe that he didn't see it coming. But at least he still had his revolver. A comforting weight in his tattered, dirty doctor's coat.
The horde was closing in on him.
Kenneth looked behind only to see the very same ledge he had backed away from just moments prior.
This is it.
If finding Jenny was no longer an option, he wasn't going to die as one of them, he simply wasn't!
Kenneth pulled the revolver out of his coat and stared at it. Its power to end it all captivated him for a moment as he raised it and aimed at the head of the nearest infected monster coming after him.
He struggled to keep calm, to slow his breathing and ready his aim. His mind went blank.
Never did Kenneth feel so alive after having death come at him from a hundred feet away. It was a pity that he couldn't live to enjoy being alive gaining his newfound appreciation for life seconds ago.
Kenneth then pressed the barrel of the revolver hard into the side of his head and shut his eyes, hearing the collective, chilling moans of death coming straight for him.
Live well, Kenneth Karcher. Goodbye, Jenny.