by Evans, Mike
When they made it up into the building in between shots they heard the screams of the girls and pleas from each other. No one knew what was going on until a few of the dead fell into the pool after gaining another hole to the back of their skulls. Jake wished that all of these damn things would simply keep looking in the wrong direction. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to be the case. Jake saw his mom, or what was left of her.
Chapter 11
Lucille asked, “What's wrong with her, Miss Cara? What's wrong with my mama?”
Cara almost felt like she was in some sort of a tunnel, realizing this entire day had in no short way gone to absolute shit in record time. She was thinking of how bad Lucille must be feeling, and the only person she currently had to rely on was a complete stranger. Cara did rest somewhat easy in the fact that they were downtown, or near downtown, which at least meant they were very close to the hospitals. She hoped that when she had told them she was a social worker, and she had a dire emergency that they might prioritize that just a little bit. She felt optimistic for just a moment hearing sirens, but Lucille put a pin in her balloon. Lucille, not feeling very optimistic about the outcome whispered, “Don't get too excited, Miss Cara. You see there's always sirens around here. Just most of the time it's the police.”
This was not Cara's first time having to take a child out of a parent's care. But this was one of the rare times where the parent was comatose, and it did not seem to be drug related. She just was not sure what to do for this lady. She leaned over, checking her pulse and airway, and there was nothing: no pulse, no breath coming from her. She got a sick feeling in her stomach, one that she didn’t think was going to go away anytime soon.
Lucille wasn’t an idiot and paid attention to things. The kid would probably be a helluva poker player if she tried. Street smarts were something that would keep her alive or put her in jail; it was hard to say. She was well aware her kids wouldn’t last a week in this neighborhood without getting the crap kicked out of them or potentially much worse. She was getting close to giving her mouth to mouth which she really wasn’t excited about. She already had two walking petri dishes at home from public school. Cara didn’t want to add to that daily Russian roulette game.
She realized she didn’t have a choice when she looked into Lucille’s bright blue, tear-filled eyes. The trembling lip was the icing on the cake. Just as she was leaning down the door burst open. Two men carrying bags with them rushed in. She’d never been so damn happy to see an EMT in all of her life. The two men didn’t look surprised and neither looked like it was affecting them. It was definitely something that they had witnessed more than once.
The man seemed ignorant to the fact that she was dressed in nice slacks and a button up blouse. He yelled, “Murphy, get a respirator on her now! We need to get some air going in and out or she's going to be brain dead if she already isn't.”
Murphy yelled, “No shit, Wallace. I'm well aware what to do. Ma'am, did she take any drugs? Were you guys doing anything that might harm yourselves?”
Cara looked confused for a moment realizing that he was asking her if she had been doing drugs. Cara yelled, “Do I look like I've been on fucking drugs? Thank you very much. Jesus Christ, it's like 7:30 in the morning for god’s sake.”
The man didn't want to squabble over details. In his time, he'd seen some very nicely dressed women, much fancier than her, who had been dead to rights lying on the ground, blood coming out of both nostrils, puking on their own vomit. Women who had not survived so he wasn't going to bring that point up because he knew the woman probably didn't care but he didn't know he had a valid point. Murphy said, “Absolutely not, ma'am. I just need to know the history here?”
Lucille said, “Mama hasn't left the house in days, sir. She ain't got no drugs. She's real sick though. She's got a really bad fever.”
The man felt her head, knowing it was not a good thing, he hadn't even checked her temperature when he realized she had to be at least at a hundred and five degrees, given his best guess. Murphy said, “Jesus Christ, she's burning up. What the hell is going on today? So many goddamn calls. I've never had this many for the flu.”
Wallace shook his head; he didn't have any answers so there was not a hell of a lot for him to contribute to the conversation. He said, “Are you pumping air into her or not?”
“She’s gone, Wallace. We are just going through the motions.”
Wallace realized that Murphy was unaware of the fact that at the moment that Lucille was there, and it was the woman’s child. He said, “Well, why don’t we try it, what’s the worst that it could do?”
Murphy whispered, “You realize you are giving hope. You know that she isn’t going to make it, right?”
Wallace didn’t care. He felt like a shithead, and if he could put some peace in himself and this girl that everything was done that could be then he would do just that. He flipped the switches, charging up the defibrillator, and said, “I need you to get back a little, sweetheart. It’s going to be dangerous for you to be this close to your mom.”
Lucille watched as green lights looked like they were making their way to the top, seeming like each one was taking an hour. When it made it all the way up, he grabbed the paddles, setting them on Susanna’s chest and hit the switch on it. He waited a second checking the heart monitor seeing nothing but a flatline. Murphy put the paddles down one last time. He held it as long as he could until he looked at the beat...or the lack of beating.
Murphy checked his watch calling it, “Time of death…”
Lucille pushed Murphy out of the way. She wasn’t going to put up with this shit, this wasn’t going to be how she lost her momma after so many hard times...hard days and nights. She yelled, “You don’t get to tell me that my mother is dead...there’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just sleeping. Leave her alone and tell me what to do. I can take care of her.”
Cara gently pulled her back. Lucille wasn’t about to take any pity from anyone. She pushed back from Cara and ran to her mom. Susanna was going pale. She wasn’t sure what to do but knew she felt better holding her. Cara stood back watching and giving her a moment to breathe. Ripping her away at this point was going to only leave her stuck in a rage, one that she’d remember Cara for, probably for the rest of her life. She didn’t want to do anything to compound her already uncontrollable anger. In doing so, she would also hate the system that took her away from her mother.
Murphy and Wallace both took a step back, shaking their heads. The idea of this was just a crackhead on the street, not that it would not be sad, but they had seen it enough times that it was something they could deal with. Murphy was going to lean in to try and pull the little girl off and jumped a foot as he watched the woman's skin transition from the faintest of tans to completely ghostly dead pale and finishing off completely lavender, head to toe. He wasn't quite sure what to say and when he looked back at Cara and Murphy, realized they were very much thinking the same thing.
Murphy said, “What in God's name is happening?”
Wallace was shaking his head. He'd seen plenty of dead, he knew that Murphy had also, but this was beyond normal. Wallace didn't know what to say. Cara was unsure if she should say anything, but when Susanna moved, the three of them jumped back an entire foot.
Lucille was the only one optimistic about what was happening. She yelled, “See you idiots didn't know what you were doing! My mama ain't dead. Look, she's moving, now do something and get her better. Y'all keep her from stopping moving again...please!”
Wallace and Murphy both looked at each other and they were going to tell her to get off of the woman, but it was too little too late. They knew she had not in any way come back from the dead. There was still zero heart rate beeping away on her monitor. Without that there was no way she was going to be among the living. This was something else, something worse and a hell of a lot goddamn scarier.
The next sounds that came out of the room were screams from Lucille's tiny frame. She was no longer
yelling at the men. No, now she wanted one thing and one thing only and that was to be free from her mom; she was pleading for help. The three of them went to pull her off but Susanna's grip was undeniably stronger and more motivated than the three of theirs combined.
They tried pulling her away from Susanna, but she was squeezing so hard that even over Lucille's moans in pain they could hear her bones cracking under the pressure. No one said a thing, and as Murphy tried prying away her fingertips, he saw that Lucille was not only crying on behalf of the broken bones, but the side of her face had a very thick hole through it. Murphy looked at her mouth and could see straight through Lucille's cheeks. The mom had gotten a chunk out of each one.
Wallace saw this and instead of gasping in confusion, he punched the woman directly in the face four times. He didn’t put any effort into holding absolutely anything back. Cara yelled, “What in the hell are you doing?”
Wallace didn't respond; he kept punching her until he finally got her to let go. Wallace pulled as hard as he could until he finally freed the little girl, handing her off to Cara, who immediately looked around the room, grabbing an old dirty afghan to place up against her cheeks. Cara yelled to Murphy, “Do something for her, for the love of God, please!”
Murphy raced over to the girl, thinking at the very least, he could put a stop to the bleeding, and then they would go from there as how to get those cute little freckled cheeks back to normal. That, of course, would be up to someone a little bit more capable than he. Murphy looked down, thinking he had time and the crying from the girl had almost stopped immediately. He put his fingers to her neck, his shoulders sinking in utter confusion. Murphy didn’t know what in God's name was happening today. He looked to Cara, shaking his head no. There wasn’t anything he was able to do.
Cara wasn’t taking that for an answer. She said, “What the fuck are you shaking your head for?”
Murphy shrugged and said, “I'm sorry, it isn't my fault, but she's gone? I don't know if she had a heart attack or what, but she shouldn't have gone that quickly. She wasn't losing that much blood. Everything happening isn't necessarily our fault. We're just doing our job. It's the same as anyone who would have shown up and would have done the same.”
“So that's it, she's dead, and we're not going to do fucking anything?”
Wallace yelled, “One of you two better fucking help me cuz this bitch is insane! I don't understand what in God's name is happening! I need someone to do something and I need it to be done now!”
The two of them looked back, almost seeming like they didn't know what in the hell was happening. Wallace was fighting with all his might to keep Susanna down on the couch. It was more than he was capable of doing and he in no way was a short, slim, or weak guy. This wasn’t the first time he’d been forced to hold someone down. Having to keep crackheads pinned to the ground before had left him feeling more successful than this. Everything going on was a fuck cluster at the very least was the best way to explain it.
Cara was thinking about the door and how happy she would be to get the fuck out, but just as she was turning her head to run, something in her periphery caught her vision. She went from one moment of having complete and utter balance with no issues to seeing the room coming in a circle and the couch coming closer and closer to her face by the second. She could feel something standing on her back and she wanted to know, and at the same exact time, didn’t want to know what it was.
Chapter 12
Tricia waited until almost the last second before Murray reached her, his mouth wide open, and coming in strong. Tricia was thinking about the bites and if she could do anything to lessen that. She realized as she saw her reflection in the tank that she definitely didn't want to look like these things, to become one. Tricia flipped the tank around and when Murray bent his head down for a bite, she shoved the nozzle valve into his mouth. When Murray bit down on it, she pulled it back out with everything she could. A shower of bloody broken shattered teeth rained down from his mouth. Tricia swung the tank baseball bat style, just barely able to keep a firm grip on it, sending him over the chair and landing atop of Dr. Matt.
She knew this was far from over because a hand gripped her from behind, trying to pull Tricia back into her grip. Tricia knew if she went down to the floor there’d be a very slim chance of getting back up. There’d also be an extremely ravenous Murray looking for her. On top of that, Beverly would be going in for a first bite.
Tricia took a step backward, getting Beverly to bend her arm. Tricia used that, realizing these things didn’t seem to have the best of balance. So, when she had some slack in it, she spun her around, throwing her into the dentist seat, and decided that she’d deserve a puke once she got out of here. She hoped, no she prayed, that God was going to give some passes on the evil shit she had to do so that she could make it home to her babies.
Tricia looked at Murray who seemed to be stuck in his fallen place. Matt had stopped moving, as had the kids. This presented a sign that shit needed to happen, and it needed to happen fast! Tricia didn’t know what else to do and picked up a dentist drill intended for Adam and brought it down, drilling through both of Beverly’s eyes, leaving nothing to be questioned. Beverly didn’t even scream but she was going nuts in the chair, trying to get up. When Tricia couldn’t see anything left out of the center of her eyes that was when she let go.
Adam was racing around the seat coming straight for her. She stopped short putting a foot out and sending the little zombie shit down to the ground. Tricia wasted no time opening the door back to the office and racing out the front door, purse and keys in trembling hands. When she made it to the front door, she looked around trying to see if anything purple was out there lurking. The street didn’t usually get remotely busy for even a half hour more. When she saw that the current coast looked to be clear, she raced outside, calling her husband Nick.
Chapter 13
Nick held nothing back, and if asked later would lie, because this was one of the more embarrassing ways to say how his zombie survival origins story began. Nick was feeling very thankful and at the exact same time was feeling his age. He was dangerously close to hitting his fortieth birthday. He was realizing that the jokes the older men who had made careers out of the army weren’t so much jokes as a sobering reality. They had in no way whatsoever been lying about a very simple truth. As you get older, the amount of time you have once that magic hour hits where you need to go to the bathroom, is in no way what you should be screwing around with.
Nick could feel little drops of sweat running down his back and he knew going forward maybe he should drink the second cup of crappy coffee on the toilet. If it was not for his love of sleeping in, he would absolutely get up earlier and just have his coffee in the hotel room which he frequented quite often.
Just when he thought he was in the clear and the worst of it was past him his stomach started off with a slow quiet gurgle which grew in intensity until he was thinking a courteous flush to himself might be wise. A second belt this time pure liquid exploded from his insides with the fury of a raging waterfall. Nick was getting a little nervous about breaking the no pooping on the plane rule. His biggest concern doing that was if shit hit the fan that there would be no one around to wipe the fan off. Van Wall did not do co-pilots, and the sons knew how to fly but were not instrument rated for this plane, and the owner had zero interest in doing anything but enjoying the non-consumer class that most people had to endure.
Nick was using some toilet paper to wipe his brow, hoping that he himself was not getting sick as well. Going home and getting Tricia sick just in time to leave again on another Van Wall adventure would do little for his marital bliss.
Speaking of marital bliss, Nick was just getting ready to swipe up on some tik tok videos, hoping his stomach would calm down and use his phone for something besides work for a few minutes. He loved his job but anyone that didn’t get nervous taking up a few million dollars jet didn’t need to be in the pilot’s seat. He liked t
o clear his head pre-flight. Nick went to hit the button when a picture of his wife on a beach with their kids popped up. He almost dropped it in the toilet but saved it.
The happy picture instantly changed when he answered the phone. His wife being freaked out was not anything really all that new. Nick did a quick brow wipe knowing she’d read him like a book and know exactly that it was his poopy face that she was seeing. Nick put on a smile, trying to hold a third wave in but couldn’t have been less successful than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest.
Nick went to say something and that was when his wife wasted no time in screaming a chain of curse words, he probably hadn’t heard her say in all their time together. Her usual put together demeanor, especially when she was at work, told him just as much as her language that something was very wrong here, which immediately made him nervous as well. It took him a moment to try and focus on what he was seeing. She was racing down a street or was in an alley, he couldn’t tell for sure, but she was hauling ass for sure.