They come to a closed door with a sign, Captain, to the right of the door. Jim finds the door unlocked when he tests it. He then cracks it slightly and gives a light push to open it about eighteen inches. Nothing meets them, so he pushes the door a little more and the unoccupied room comes into full view. Awards and citations adorn the walls, but nothing of any need is seen in the quick glance. The door is shut and they press onward into the dark interior.
The building is longer than wide. The hallway they’re in runs along that longer part of the building, so the time it takes until the reach the stairwell leading down is painfully long. When they approach the door for the stairwell, they see it’s open about six inches. The door is an emergency exit, so it opens out into the hall. Looking along the jamb, they see the reason it remains slightly ajar is due to the fist protruding out from the lower portion of the door.
The fisted hand is determined to be a man’s when Jim peeks through the crack in the doorway and sees the body it’s attached to. The corpse is long dead. Just as Jim places his hand on the door to pull it the rest of the way open, he hears what sounds like coughing, and then a growl from inside and above in the stairwell.
A quick look back is met with a nod each from Chris and Jeremy, confirming they heard it too. Jim pulls the door open enough to walk through and aims his AR-15 down the stairwell to the basement. Jeremy follows behind and aims his rifle up the stairwell toward the noise that has now stopped.
Chris follows last, directly behind, after checking their rear and gently allowing the door to come back and rest against the deceased man’s wrist. They reach the next landing and still no further sounds. The door to the basement is seen from here and with no obstacles between them and it, they continue on
They enter the basement without issue and are greeted with a sign for Armory mounted on the wall directly across from the stairwell. Following the arrow below the sign, they go right.
The armory yields more things they have time to carry out. The items that Jim wants the most are found in great quantity. They decide to also take more 5.56 ammunition and as many gas mask filters as they can pack in their empty backpacks. When they’re finally ready to make their way back outside, they have about sixty pounds of the supplies stuffed in each of their backpacks.
They arrive back at the doorway to the stairwell. Jim slowly pushes open the door, followed by Chris and Jeremy in the trail. Jeremy lets the door close silently and falls in behind Chris as they ascend.
They reach the landing and freeze when they hear more rustling, growls and what sounds like bare and shoed feet slapping on the metal stairs. After the short pause, Jim leads on, continuing up. Suddenly the sounds of walking grow closer.
Jim sees an infected woman on the landing above. She pauses, facing the stairwell and then turns back the way she came. As she does, she extends her arms out in front of her, as though feeling her way.
Seeing her turn around, Jim begins ascending the steps again, and can now see the doorway to the ground level. The door is still cracked open by the corpse. Jim pushes the door open and, with a quick look to the right, pivots left to view down the hallway. He sees many figures walking down the hall toward them. They begin to run and he opens fire.
With no need for verbal communication, Chris exits the stairwell and covers the right. Jeremy then enters the hallway and shoves the dead man’s arm out of the way and closes the door. Using a door wedge they found in the basement, Jeremy kicks it under the stairwell door to keep it closed.
The door to the stairwell immediately begins to vibrate with the pounding of fists on the other side. The infected continue to fill up the hallway from the interior of the building. They inch closer to Jim, Chris, and Jeremy. The infected stomp and climb and crawl over their dead and dying on their way.
“Grenade?” Jeremy asks loudly over the din of the growls and muffled reports of AR-15s. “Yeah,” Jim replies. Chris jumps up from his kneeling position and says, “It’s still clear behind us. I’ll get the grenades,” and reaches into Jim’s backpack.
Retrieving the grenade and then pulling out the pin, Chris yells out, “Grenade out,” and flings it toward the mass of infected. Jim and Jeremy close their eyes and continue to fire as the flash-bang grenade does what its name says.
Momentarily blinded, the infected try but cannot retreat from the bright light and the loud noise. Chris, Jeremy, and Jim don their masks, and Chris tosses a teargas grenade down the hall into the head of an obese infected woman and then it bounces to the floor. After a subdued boom, the gas follows.
They are able to finish donning their masks as the gas rolls to them, as it spreads away in both directions from the canister on the floor. “Out!” Jim yells. Chris and Jeremy respond by beginning to back away from the infected and towards the exit.
They take turns covering their retreat, with one of them always watching the direction of their exit, two always laying down fire to keep the infected back. Making their way to the set of restrooms, they notice the infected have stopped their pursuit, the gas finally spreading further in their direction.
They see their chance. “Run. Now,” Jim says as he turns. Jeremy and Chris do the same, and they all head for the light of the exit. They reach the doorway and file out. They continue running and dare a couple of glances back. Once they’re far enough away, they stop to catch their breath and remove their masks.
At the MRAP they change out of the clothes that have been saturated with the teargas and bag them for washing later. They talk and joke about the trip inside the police department building and then turn to discussing the next mission: going inside the large nearby hospital.
Chapter 37
Present
Arzu drives them to the University of Florida at Shands hospital. They drive around the exterior as much as possible, but only two and half of the four sides are able to be viewed completely from the comfort and safety of the MRAP.
West of the hospital, Luther and the other three lie prone on a two-story building, watching with binoculars as the MRAP drives around the hospital several times and in different directions. It’s clear to anyone that the occupants of the large armored vehicle are interested in something inside. Unlike Luther, his brother, and the two others, Jim and his family and friends don’t want the pharmaceuticals inside for their pleasure.
The MRAP comes to a stop and Jim ducks back inside the turret and checks on John’s condition. Kathy and their mom Judith have been monitoring John’s vitals. John’s blood pressure has dropped lower than normal again, his pulse increasing since having the brief normalcy earlier.
The others ask about increasing the IV flow rate to help with his blood pressure, but Jim points out that they’ll be diluting his blood and it won’t be able to oxygenate his organs appropriately. “We need blood or blood substitute. Or he’s going . . .his condition is going to continue to deteriorate,” Jim adjusts his choice of words.
“John is O-, he can only receive blood from someone that’s O-, and none of us are,” Jim explains his reasoning. “He needs blood. He’s lost a lot and the IV fluids aren’t going to solve the problem.” Jim goes on to explain he hopes to find the storage area for blood is still under power and keeping the precious liquid cold. He points out the solar panels nearby that could be used for emergencies. After recent natural disasters, many agencies and hospitals began incorporating solar with their emergency generators. The generators for the hospital have long been silent. He hopes that the solar array supplies power for the literal life-blood he seeks for his brother.
The noon sky is still clear, but more importantly it’s still bright. Although his mind won’t be changed, Jim decides it’s as good a time as any to tell everyone what he’s planning and why. They aren’t pleased.
“No fucking way are you going by yourself! You big stupid donkey ass!” Arzu is the first to articulate her colorfully expressed opinion. Next is Judith. Her vote is also negative, but her expression of it is nowhere at all as colorful. “I th
ink you’re being an idiot, Jimmy,” Judith says, and leaves it at that.
Jeremy and Chris are more respectful, and although close, their opinions are not as profane-laced. Berk and Kayra speak up and tell their dad, “Listen to Mom and don’t go.” However, they’re not old enough to fully understand the situation, nor do they have any grasp of the potential danger.
Jim decides not to try and tell everyone they’re wrong and that it’s not extremely risky for him to enter and search the large hospital by himself. He knows it’s not safe. He knows he may not make it out. He also knows John will probably die if he doesn’t risk it. And he’s not going to let that happen if he can try and prevent it. He’s also not letting anyone else take the risk of going in with him.
Jim begins to ready his gear, and mentally prepare. He tries to make his sons promise not to come after him. They can’t make that guarantee to him. Jim does at least get them to give their word not attempt to come in after him if the sun sets. He stresses the need for them to protect everyone else.
Chris and Jeremy accompany Jim to the emergency room entrance. Seven ambulances and eighteen police and sheriff’s vehicles are parked at varying angles. Some of the ambulances have open doors with dead crews and patients still inside.
The doors of the ER are closed. Infected that had been lying and milling about take notice of Jim, Chris, and Jeremy, and begin to charge the thick glass doors to get to them. After checking several vehicles, they find a sheriff’s patrol Tahoe with its keys in the ignition, and it starts up for them.
Jeremy positions the Tahoe to aim its headlights at the door. Turning on the headlights at their brightest and turning on the take-down lights on the light bar on top causes the infected to retreat far enough back from the doors so they can carefully but easily pry them open.
While Jim takes down any of the SCAR virus carriers that brave the lights, Chris and Jeremy open the sliding doors. With no power to the doors, the automatic closing mechanism doesn’t cause them to re-close. Jeremy and Chris then use their rifles to join in on the fray, adding rounds from their AR-15s to clear the ER area of the infected that approach, and those that they can get rounds into.
Finally, with no more movement seen inside, and a quick hug to each, Jim says, “I’ll see ya’ later, boys,” and makes his way inside the ER. Jim finishes off wounded infected as he moves along in the glare of the Tahoe lights. They all seem to have exited the individual treatment rooms when they were attracted by the commotion at the ER entrance.
Bodies of those long dead and recently killed litter the floor. He can’t discern the composition, tile or linoleum, because it’s coated with blood. Both fresh, slippery recently-spilled and old, dried blackish-colored blood coat most of the floor.
The stink in the ER is overpowering, the iron-copper smell of blood mixed with loosed bowels and bladder, and the sickly-sweat smell of rotting decay. Jim fails to keep from dry heaving and then adds to the detritus on the floor.
As Jim continues through the ER, he reaches the far side. From left to right is a hallway leading further into the hospital, into dark areas with uncountable hiding spaces for the infected. Next is an open doorway leading into the billing area. It has three corpses on the floor and as Jim looks on, six infected hurtle the countertop to make their way to him. He fires fifteen rounds from his AR-15 to end that threat.
The third from the left is the nurses’ triage station. The door is closed. The fourth and last, from left to right, is another closed doorway that leads into the ER waiting room. He leaves the latter two doors closed and heads to the far left hallway.
He heads deeper inside another large dark building again, this one the largest of them so far. This time he goes alone.
Jeremy and Chris reluctantly, and with heavy hearts, stay behind at the doors and then, after several agonizingly long moments of standing by, their father turns to the left and out of sight. They return to the MRAP. Like they had when he'd worked for those years in Iraq, they wonder if they may have seen their father for the last time.
It takes hours to get up to the blood bank area of the hospital. Using the NVGs isn’t practical, the mixture of light coming in through windows and black shadows large enough to hide several infected makes his rifle-mounted flashlight better to guide the way.
Jim's brought along forty AR-15 magazines this time. Located in packs attached to his load-bearing vest, each magazine filled with 29 rounds gives him a total of 1,160 rounds of 5.56 mm. He’s beginning to wonder if he’ll actually have enough to get back out.
Pausing behind a corner leading away from the stairwell, Jim takes a few pulls off his CamelBak hydration system and eyes the corridor left to right. The stairwell door behind him has been jammed shut by using a rechargeable drill and screws he brought along. Jim’s used the elevator shaft to ascend to the floors. This has been a safer tactic, but more taxing on his body while climbing with the extra equipment he’s carrying. Running smack into two infected in the first stairwell and having them grab and nearly take bites of his flesh made him change his tactics.
Regaining a normal respiration rate, Jim rises from a knee and heads in a crouched-walk to the halfway point of his objective. At the closed door of the blood bank and lab, he pauses to listen against the door. The disappointment written on his face would have been easily read by anyone seeing him. He hears no sounds of humming cooling systems or other electronic motors. His hopes of a miracle are crushed.
Jim takes a moment to listen more before he tries the doorknob. He hears a crunching sound; like that of someone chewing on pretzels or some other crunchy snack. If infected are behind the door, they must be surviving on leftover food from the previous uninfected occupants.
“Fuck it,” Jim mumbles to himself, and grasps the doorknob. Giving it a slow twist in both directions, he finds it locked. He retrieves the lock-pick gun and goes to work as quietly as possible on the door lock. The entire time, he can hear the faint sounds of munching. Just as he gives the knob another twist to check if he’s unlocked it, Jim hears the sound that could only be a canned drink being popped open.
The doorknob moves under his hand, indicating he’s defeated the lock. Jim stows his lock-pick gun and, sliding his AR-15 to his left out of the way, unholsters his suppressed Glock 17. With a complete twist of the knob to release the catch, Jim quickly forces the door inward with his Glock following his eyes.
“Who the hell are you?” asks a man, sitting on the floor between a snack-food and a soda machine, the Mountain Dew still held in his hand and close to his mouth. Jim closes the door. Holstering his Glock and keeping the man in his peripheral vision, Jim places three long screws into the door toward the top, center and bottom.
Removing the pistol from his holster, but not aiming at the man sitting on the floor with the can of soda still near his lips, he asks, “Who the hell are you?”
“I asked first,” the man says with a grin. “I’m the one with the pistol,” Jim replies. “If you’re going to be a dick-head about it, damn . . .” the man says as he stands up and transfers the Mountain Dew from his right hand to his left. “I’m Royce. Royce Barber. I used to work here as a medical technician until the world went to shit.”
Royce is around five-eleven. He has hair that, like Jim’s, had been previously cropped short and is in the process of growing out in all directions. His unshaven face seems friendly and honest. His brown eyes make the same expression but underlying fear and hope are there too. Understandably, the man is in desperate need of a shower and his formerly green scrubs should be burned.
Feeling more at ease with the man, Jim takes the offered hand and they shake. “I’m Jim Matthews. So you’ve been surviving here on the snack and soda machines?” Jim points with his head behind Royce. “Yeah, I have. Can you get me the hell out of here?” Royce asks, coming directly to the point.
Jim ignores that question and poses his own, the one he came here for, “Is the blood here any good?” Royce looks at him with a puzzled express
ion but answers, “It’s all ruined. No power.” Then Royce asks, “Why?”
Jim explains the situation briefly about his brother’s injuries and needing O- or O+ blood for an infusion. “I’m O+,” Royce says excitedly. “Just get me the fuck out of here and you can have as much blood as I can spare.”
Jim looks to the window, and can see the sun isn’t far from setting. This side of the building doesn’t give him a view of the MRAP. Getting outside needs to be done now, before the infected venture out for the night. Jim stands and looks out the window and is glad to see that it’s straight down with no other roofs blocking the way.
Jim explains his exit plan to Royce, who suddenly seems less enthusiastic about leaving. Jim learns why after some prodding. “I’m scared of heights. OK,” Royce says, and sits in a nearby chair. Royce sees the obvious and agrees to make his departure by the window.
After breaking out the windows, Jim removes the bag of rope from his back and secures the end extending from the top of the bag to the center support of the window frame. Jim then lowers the bag of rope off the edge and the rope extends as the bag drops toward the overgrown grass below.
Jim is already wearing a rappelling harness and finally must break the news to Royce when he asks, “Where’s mine at?” as he points to the harness as Jim tightens it. “You don’t have one. You’re going to be strapped to me and you’ll need to hang on,” Jim says as he removes his belt for his thigh-holster. Jim takes off the holster and stows it in his backpack along with the Glock 17. He then extends the length of the belt and adds his leather belt to increase it further.
The most difficult maneuvering is getting out the window while the two men have their fronts pressed against each other. The next is when Royce has to wrap his legs around Jim like a child being held. Both Jim and Royce begin to sweat heavily during the descent, Jim because he’s keeping them both from free falling to the grass below and the combined weight makes it very difficult. Royce sweats because he’s freaking out about hanging over a hundred feet in the air from what he thinks would be better described as a string instead of a rope.
Omega Pathogen: Mayhem Page 17