“It’s gonna take a while.” The man yells to the soldier.
A short burst rings out from the .50 cal. Dan heads to the jeeps, wanting to fire off a few rounds. Dan blows hot breath into his hands as he takes his stance behind the unmanned weapon. Before he can fire his attention is brought to a sound above the moaning of the dead, and the sound of the splashing gasoline. Above the staccato of the machine gun next to him he hears a steady whooping.
Through the cityscape Dan can see a helicopter flying their way. It is traveling very low. Dan figures it is looking for survivors as he lines up his first shot.
Before he can fire two figures rush past the jeeps heading back towards the city. A woman is in the lead, a man follows swiftly behind her.
“I can’t do it!” The woman screams. “I can’t leave them behind in all of this!”
The man is screaming her name as he gives chase. They are darting through the cars. Dan has to let them go. He can’t risk himself, or the lives of the other survivors to chase them as they head straight into the open arms of the dead.
64
Oz followed the flame of his lighter through the dark service halls, trying to find the person who had broken the window on the fourth floor. The janitor had never spent much time in these corridors so he decided he would just have to knock on every door along that side of the building.
Oz receives no response until he raps on a door labeled: Pediatrics. Finally, a door gets answered when a tall thin man opens it.
“Can I help you?” Oz asks.
“Shouldn’t I be the one to say that?” The man in a white medical shirt asks with a nervous smirk. “Thank you for coming. I am so happy to see you.”
“Don’t mention it. Let’s go.” Oz turns to leave.
“Kids,” The male nurse yells into the ward. “We’re getting out of here.”
Oz stops in his tracks when he hears what sounds like a million children cheering. He cracks his tensing neck as he watches them file into the dark hall. He tries to count them, but he can’t keep up. It’s like a Monty Python sketch only Oz isn’t laughing.
“How many of you are there?” Oz asks one of the little people walking past him.
“I dunno, lots.” The kid says, not taking his eyes from the hand held video game he plays.
“I got most of our kids. I got some out of the PICU. The NICU is completely lost.” The nurse offers Oz his hand. “I’m David.”
“Oz. How about L&D?”
“I didn’t check. I was pretty busy with the ones I had. They took all the other staff away and left me alone to do it all.”
“I’ll check it out. Keep them quiet.”
“Easier said than done.”
Oz knocks on the door marked Labor and Delivery. There is no answer. He turns the knob and enters the dark ward. A few candles are burning low, giving off little light; their flames are mere sparks ready to drown in pools of melted wax. The janitor follows an odd sound that leads him to a room. Its door is open slightly.
Candle glow inside gives the room a golden aura. A large woman in a nurse’s uniform sits on a folding chair. Her face is resting in her hands. Before he speaks Oz scans the rest of the room. Two transparent tanks are situated on the far side, away from the woman. Oz remembers when his son was in an incubator. He was born premature and so little.
“Hey, I’m here to get you out.” He tells her.
“You’re too late.” The woman says lifting her head slowly to see her would-be rescuer. “Perhaps if you had gotten here a half an hour ago.” Her glazed eyes can’t focus on him.
“Well, I was pretty busy.” Oz doesn’t know how he is late. Has she been bitten? She’s acting sluggish. He watches as she lets her head fall back into her hands like she didn’t have the strength to hold it up any longer.
“Those two couldn’t be moved.” She refers to the incubators without pointing. “I stayed behind to take care of them.”
The large man looks into the artificial wombs, beneath the clear plastic domes he sees the two tiny babies. Their frail hands are clenched into tight fists as they squirm their skinny bodies. Oz melts a little inside as he remembers his son. He was so worried about his boy those first three weeks.
“They’re dead.” The old nurse says.
“No, they…” Oz realizes what she is getting at. They have died, and are moving again. He won’t let the tragedy stop him. “I can still get you out.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She stands on wobbly legs. “I poisoned them. It was painless. They just fell asleep.” She removes an object from her pocket that reflects the candlelight with a golden gleam. “Then, I injected myself.”
The woman is taking small steps towards the enclosed cradles. She is swaying on her feet like an inebriate. Oz can see the thing in her hand is a scalpel.
“Only one thing left to do. I couldn’t do it before.” She falls forward half way to her target. She doesn’t react when her face smashes into the hard tiled floor. Oz knows she is dead, and soon she too will be active again. He picks up the scalpel.
Each incubator has a little door by the infants’ heads. He opens the first one. The small zombies are unable to move well due to their undeveloped musculature. Their heads roll in random directions. Oz feels the top of the newborn’s cranium to palpate the soft spot. The child’s head is so small compared to his massive hand. The scalpel shakes in his other.
65
The children in the dark corridor have grown restless. David, the male nurse, is getting antsy as well, but he is overjoyed by the fact he now has another adult to talk to. Oz appears in the hall. His lighter creates an orb of orange around him. His face is stoic as he passes through the crowd of little survivors, and re-enters the pediatric ward without so much as a word.
David follows the big man who strides through the darkness and into the nurse’s station.
“Did you grab all the kids’ meds?” Oz asks.
“No, I didn’t even think to do that.” David finds a bag and proceeds to dump bottles of pills into it. He notices Oz is looking through the medication cart. The large man appears to be reading the individual names on the small drawers issued to each patient.
“What’s up?” The nurse asks.
“I just need to check something.” The janitor’s eyes fall onto the name he was searching for: Lovette, Tobias. He can’t bring himself to look into the drawer after he opens it. His gaze trails to his right, focusing on a mural of various animated characters having a picnic. He holds his breath and finally looks into the compartment. Three blues a green and a yellow.
“Fuck!” The large man screams as he throws the entire cart against the wall next to him, chipping the paint off of a fat, yellow bear’s face. He knew the pills would be in there, but it infuriates him that he didn’t try harder to get Toby here.
David is holding a large maroon book to his chest. He squeezes it tighter as he watches the bigger man swear to himself and fume in front of the cheerful artwork. He wants to ask him if he is all right, but is too scared. His rescuer terrifies him.
“I should have brought him here.” Oz is leaning over a swivel chair with his head slumped forward.
“W…Who?” The nurse stutters.
“Doesn’t matter. Not anymore.” Oz stands and looks at his new companion who is holding a book. “What’s that?”
“It’s called the MAR. It tells us every medication the kids require.” David is feeling a little easier now.
“Do you have all the pills we need?”
“Yes, and we can get more at any pharmacy once on the road.”
Oz lets out a sigh before returning to the service hallway. He leads the group through after telling the kids not to touch any of the doors they pass. He is trying to formulate a plan on the fly. All he can come up with at the moment is getting these people to the loading dock.
“Wait here.” Oz tells them at the top of the final set of stairs. He remembers the bodies that are down there. The mother and her child
are especially vivid in his mind. Kids shouldn’t see that, he thinks.
The dead had devoured most of their bodies. The infant is awake, but completely immobile and harmless. The mother is active. She has caught sight of Oz with her one remaining eye. The woman is trying to crawl towards him with one arm. Her other arm is just bones, and still cradles the baby zombie.
The janitor wants to get the kids through here fast. He wants to finally be done with this hospital. He walks up to the mother and grabs her by the back of the neck. The powerful man hefts her like a cat holds its young and hurls her down the empty, blood stained hall that leads to the ER, baby and all. He figures it will take her awhile to make it back. By the time she does, they should be long gone.
“Let’s go.” Oz bellows up the stairs. Multiple pairs of feet come scampering down. The man in the coveralls and duct-taped forearms halts them. He has no idea how to explain the carnage he had caused out on the loading dock, or how he can censor what the kids see out there.
“Ok, you are all about to see some scary shit.” The kids giggle at his use of the ‘S’ word. “Who knows what zombies are?”
Some among the tribe raise their hands. David looks puzzled, but raises his as well. Oz looks over their faces as he holds their interest. Moaning is coming from the ER and he wants them focused on him rather than the masticated mother and child.
“That is exactly what we are dealing with today.”
“Are you serious?” David asks.
“Yes.” Oz tells the skeptical nurse. “We are about to head out through the loading dock. You will see gross things, horrible things, don’t touch any of it. It may be too much for you guys. So, I want you all to keep your eyes closed.”
Oz gets the kids lined up in a chain. They all hold hands as they walk through the devastated bodies. Oz is the engine and David serves as the caboose. The conductor takes them in a looping line around torsos and limbs. They zig past severed heads, and zag around unidentifiable parts.
“Keep them closed.” Oz chants, looking ahead of them to see what is coming up. He tries to keep an eye on their small feet as they blindly step around the gore. The kids are being very cooperative and willing to play the game even though David isn’t helping matters. His eyes are wide open, Oz can hear him gasp and groan at what he is witnessing.
At the end of the dock Oz finds a truck for them. Its back is open as it patiently waits for someone to unload it. The contents suggest it was here to stock the gift shops. It is half full of boxes labeled with the names of different brands of snack foods and manufacturers of trinkets. He leads the train of survivors inside the open trailer.
“David, we need to make sure all this stuff is secured.” The leader starts reducing stacks of soda and boxes of chips. He doesn’t want anything to shift or fall onto the passengers. David creates a space for the kids. He levels out crates full of plush animals for them to sit on. The children love the idea; they open the boxes and relax on the seats made of stuffed animals.
“Where are we heading?” David asks Oz who is grabbing a bag of cheese-flavored popcorn from one of the boxes and a bottle of warm soda.
“North.” The man says as he exits the trailer. “I think.”
“That’s it? Just north?” David asks puzzled.
“I dunno. That’s what the Minute Man said.” He closes the door to the truck, hoping his cargo will be safe.
The big man drops himself off of the concrete slab and onto the ground. There isn’t a zombie in sight, not a moving one at least. The sky is getting dark and the air temperature is dropping fast. He wishes he had let the man with the muzzleloader finish his sentence. All he knows is to head north, and hope for the best.
66
Dan fires another salvo at the approaching zombies. He is actually having fun holding back the dead. It reminded him of a video game he used to play at the arcades when he was younger.
“I’m Dan by the way.” He tells his partner between rounds.
“Jason.” The man responds.
“I’m sorry about your family.” He feels compelled to give some sort of condolence to the man. It seems weird having fun considering what had happened.
“It wasn’t mine.” The man’s face saddens. “We were in the middle of a divorce… Her and her new boyfriend got pregnant.”
“Oh.” Dan is at a loss for something to say.
“I only came to the hospital to get her to finalize the papers. What a dick, huh?”
Dan can see the man probably still loved the woman. He supposes they shouldn’t continue on this topic for it might be too painful for him.
“So, these are zombies?” Jason asks, changing the subject himself. The man smiles, Dan knows it is only a mask.
“Yeah.” The soldier replies.
“And, you don’t know what caused it?”
“No.” Dan is getting sick of people thinking he has the answers. “Nobody knows I guess.”
“Do you know what I think it is?” Jason poses the question. “Antibiotics.”
He lets his estimation hang, as if trying to bait Dan into asking him to expound on it. Dan is silent and Jason decides to explain himself anyway.
“I had some time to think about it at the hospital. All our lives we get antibiotics pushed on us by doctors, and what do they do? They kill bacteria, and viruses, and stuff. But, those things all mutate, or evolve, and there are different strains. What if something evolved to do this?”
“That is an interesting theory.”
“Like that flesh eating disease. What if that became a parasite and is now using us as its host. We are eating each other to feed the parasite.” Jason looks to Dan for acknowledgement. The soldier just nods with a considering look.
“Any other day I would say you were nuts. But, today there is nothing but possibilities.”
Dan looks over his shoulder towards the blue bus that contains his wife and newborn son. He wants to get to them and get going. Small streams of spilled gasoline are moving his way down the slight incline of the bridge.
“I think we should have enough gas for now, and these fuckers are starting to get thick.” Dan points to the horde of zombies heading their way. More are joining from the city, as if drawn to the noise of the weapons being used against them. Like moths to the flame, Dan thinks.
Dan is ready to sprint off the jeep when Jason grabs his shoulder.
“I think we should take one of these jeeps. We could get all the ammo onto one. These guns are awesome and could be useful.” Jason relates his idea.
That’s brilliant, Dan thinks. It’s such a good idea he is pissed that he hadn’t thought of it. “Good thinking. I’ll tell them to head out and come back. You wanna drive?”
“Hell no, I get the gun.” Jason laughs.
“Fucker.” Dan kids before darting towards the shuttle.
The man filling the tank had gotten a system down to get as much fuel as possible into the vehicle. His middle finger is jammed into the receiving hole, holding the flap open. His other fingers form a chute for the gas to flow down.
“We should have enough for a while.” The man reports.
“Good job. We’re heading out.” Dan tells him and then rounds the vehicle to see Heather. Dan always liked the smell of gasoline, but this is too much. He hopes the kids will be ok with that stuff in the air.
“Hey, guys.” Dan greets his family. Vincent has his face pressed against his mother’s chest, breathing deeply. “He’s asleep again?”
“They do a lot of that for the first few months. Don’t get used to it though.” His wife smiles.
“We’re going to take off now. Jason and I will be following in one of the Jeeps. We can use the fire power.”
“No, stay with us.” She protests.
“I’ll just ride in it for the first leg, then I’ll switch out with someone else.”
“Can I come with you?” She doesn’t want to let him out of her sight. He really didn’t want to be away from her either.
“I would feel better if you stayed in the bus. The jeep has no roof or doors.” Dan looks to the driver. “Keep to the rural roads and avoid cities and towns whenever possible.”
“Got it.” The nurse says.
Dan kisses his wife for a long time, not wanting to disengage the tenderness. He gives his son a kiss on his head. Before leaving he hands Heather his pistol.
“I don’t want it.” She shakes her head.
“Take it.” He insists. “If anything happens to us you will need a weapon.” Dan can see one of the guys onboard already has the muzzleloader. He wants to be sure Heather and Vincent have protection. Although she doesn’t like guns Dan knows she can handle it. He had taken her to the range a few times and she is a decent shot.
“I love you guys.” He says.
“We love you dad.” Heather speaks for Vincent in a baby voice.
As soon as the gasman enters the bus the door is shut. Dan taps on the side to let them know to take off. He jogs towards the jeep. The sky is clouding over and the sun has almost disappeared. It is a lot colder than it was this afternoon, Dan notices. The jeep ride will be extremely cold once night falls.
The chopper in the sky is moving so slow it seems to just hang in midair. Dan and Jason had watched it earlier. The aircraft had turned and circled the city, now it is traveling towards them once more.
67
The man piloting the helicopter has had his fun circling the city, now it’s time to head home. It has always been his dream to fly. His only escape from his overbearing wife was flight simulators. He loves them. The man prides himself on mastering the most advanced games he can get his hands on. He always said he wanted to fly before he died.
His body shifts in his seat as he guides the chopper down Main Street. The plastic he sits on crinkles under his almost completely bare body. Mortie is starting to think this is his lucky day since his wound has stopped bleeding, and now he is fulfilling his lifelong wish of flying.
Life Among The Dead Page 23