Degeneration

by Mark Campbell

  Richard’s approached one of the dangling florescent lights in the center of the hall and pushed it aside. The frayed wires arced and sent a shower of sparks into the air. He startled and ran past it, heart pounding. As he neared the silver door, he read the blue sign above it and the words twisted his stomach into knots:

  Infectious Diseases Wing

  He pulled the door’s lever; the electronic lock was powerless and the door swung open effortlessly. He ran through the door and ran past flaming offices and barricaded doors that lined both sides of the hallway, desperate to find some way out of the building that was burning down around him. Parts of the floor were sunken and the walls were lined with fine cracks. At end of the hall he saw a set of steel double-doors that read Hematology Lab.

  The building suddenly shifted and shuttered, flinging Richard against the wall. The hallway shook violently, shaking loose ceiling tiles and chunks of plaster. The lights flickered off and bathed the hall in battery-powered yellow emergency strobes.

  Ahead of Richard, it sounded like a freight train was tearing through the hospital and, in an instant, Central Hospital’s Hematology Lab collapsed into the engulfed first floor and blocked Richard’s path with a massive pile of rubble.

  There was another loud rumble behind him.

  Richard spun around and watched as the hallway started to cave-in on itself. The emergency lights blew in rapid succession as large chunks of debris pelted through the ceiling and punched through the ceiling. The entire second-floor was collapsing down into the enflamed first-floor.

  He ran towards the door closest to him and slammed against it shoulder-first. The door flung open and he tumbled inside just seconds before the doorway was barricaded with flaming rubble.

  Richard slowly stood and coughed violently in the dust-filled air.

  The room had eight metal gurneys in it. Each gurney was bolted to the floor and stood next to a steel sink. The stench of formaldehyde and bleach fermented in the air and permeated through the smoke. Empty chemical jugs were scattered across the floor. Doors lined both sides of the room and large windows facing outside dominated the room opposite of the door. The view through the windows was blurred by the half-melted plastic tarp covering the building.

  “I found a way out,” Richard whispered, staring at the large windows.

  The floor rumbled underneath Richard’s feet.

  This place is falling apart! You’re going to get killed and I’m going to die in that fucking prison! You’re fucking useless!

  “I’m not useless!!!” Richard screamed. “Shut the fuck up and let me figure this out, okay?!”

  A set of doors across the room swung open at the sound of his voice.

  Four male orderlies in blood-smeared smocks and two lacerated police officers ran into the room towards Richard, giving feral cries.

  Before Richard could react, a series of explosions rippled throughout the building. The floor underneath his feet upheaved and knocked him onto the floor.

  The enclosing infected stopped running as the floor warbled underneath their feet, rendering them barely able to stand.

  A second violent jolt knocked the infected down onto the ground and made the ceiling pelt down around them. A series of fine cracks formed along the floor and portions of the room sunk as sections started to crumble away into the engulfed first floor lobby.

  Richard quickly got up and clamored towards the windows. The floor creaked and groaned under his weight.

  The infected started to get back on their feet, snarling. One of the orderlies sprinted towards Richard.

  Richard braced himself as–

  The orderly tackled Richard onto the floor.

  Richard grappled with the orderly, desperately trying to keep the man from biting him. He kept both hands pressed against the orderly’s chest, keeping the man’s snapping mouth back.

  The orderly scratched Richard’s arms and tore deep gashes into his skin.

  Richard screamed in pain.

  In the midst of their tussling, neither of them noticed that the floor underneath them was sinking and sagging.

  The orderly vomited into Richard’s face as the other infected in the room converged en-mass towards–

  The entire floor gave a defeated groan and collapsed into the engulfed first floor lobby.

  Richard and the group of infected plummeted down amongst a shower of debris, drywall dust, and sheets of insulation.

  Richard landed hard against the charred laminate floor on his back amidst two rows of engulfed waiting room chairs, expunging the air from his lungs.

  The orderly who had assaulted Richard landed amidst the engulfed waiting room chairs. One of the police officers landed headfirst a few feet in front of Richard; his neck gave an audible snap on impact and he lay motionless. The rest of the infected landed scattered amongst the flames and flailed on the floor, screaming.

  Richard sat up, gasping for air, and frantically wiped the vomit from his face with his hands. The searing heat blurred his vision and the smoke stole his breath. He was in hell. He stood amidst a shower of flaming debris, gasped uselessly in the smoke, and staggered forward between the large pockets of flames. A large pillar crashed down behind him, narrowly missing him, but he couldn’t even hear it over the roaring fires all around him. Ahead, at the other end of the engulfed lobby, he could barely make out the hospital’s emergency room entrance.

  The sliding glass entrance doors were shattered and covered from the outside by badly burnt plywood plagued with multiple bullet holes. Beams of sunlight shone through the holes and cast numerous spots of light on the charred corpses huddled against the base of the plywood.

  Gasping for air, Richard walked towards the barricaded entrance. He trudged between two rows of engulfed plastic chairs and felt his arm hair and eyebrows searing off.

  He was going to die.

  An engulfed corpse bounded out of the flames next to him. The corpse was so badly burnt that its sex was indistinguishable. It collapsed and lay motionless in front of Richard as the flames devoured it.

  Richard maneuvered around the corpse and lurched towards the bullet-riddled plywood. He stuck his mouth around one of the bullet holes and was finally able to draw in a breath of air; he began coughing uncontrollably.

  A large sign suspended over the lobby entrance crashed next to Richard and kicked-up a plume of ash. The sign read: ‘Please Remember to Sign out with the Receptionist. Thank You for Choosing Us for Your Healthcare Needs. Central Hospital, a Member of the Triad Healthcare Group, LLC’.

  Richard kicked the sign aside and climbed on top of the charred corpses huddled against the base of the plywood. He heard their brittle bones snap under each step.

  “Hey!” Richard hoarsely cried through one of the bullet holes as he simultaneously slapped his open palms against the burnt plywood. He erupted into a spasm of violent coughs. “Help me!”

  He took a step back and rammed the plywood with his shoulder.

  The weakened plywood shattered easily and disintegrated into black ashy splinters.

  He tumbled down the five small steps that led up to the emergency room doors and landed hard on his side, coughing violently. Severe burns covered his body and his arms and face were covered with pus-filled blisters. Pain radiated throughout his entire body. He spat out bloodied saliva onto the cement and slowly rose to his knees as his breathing became more regulated.

  Richard looked up at the building, gasping for breath.

  The hospital towered into the sky and leaned askew. The upper floors had caved-in and the plastic covering the building had fallen away. The building was close to collapsing.

  A large white sign was stapled to a sheet of plywood covering the other set of lobby doors. The edges of the sign were badly blackened, but it was still legible.

  QUARANTINE

  WARNING: HIGHLY COMMUNICABLE CONTAGION INSIDE

  THIS AREA HAS BEEN DEEMED UNSAFE

  ABSOLUTELY NO ENTRY PERMITTED

  ABSOLU
TELY NO EXIT PERMITTED

  USE OF DEADLY FORCE IS AUTHORIZED

  He turned and stared at the parking lot.

  It was a jam-packed maze of burnt vehicles, toppled luggage, and blackened corpses. Infected, many of which were badly burnt, wandered aimlessly between the haphazardly parked vehicles. None of the wandering infected seemed to notice Richard as he gawked at them with his mouth agape, terrified.

  Countless red fliers blew freely across the parking lot and littered the steps of the hospital. He reached down and grabbed one of the tattered fliers.

  THIS AREA IS NO LONGER SAFE

  A mandatory evacuation has been ordered for the entire affected area.

  Report to the following FEMA Safe Havens for immediate evacuation:

  North Hills Mall – Overrun

  Rex Hospital – Overrun

  Brier Creek Shopping Center

  Crabtree Valley Mall

  Wake Med (Official CDC encampment) – Overrun

  Central Hospital (Official CDC encampment) – Overrun

  RBC Center – Overrun

  Triangle Town Center

  Official Information: 90.1 WXTK FM

  Official Information: 96.3 WYTT FM

  No cameras, phones, luggage, weapons, nor pets allowed. Four people max per household. Children less than 3 years old and elders over 85 cannot be accepted at this time. No handicap services are available. If you are ill, you will be turned away. Avoid major roads and all strangers.

  Richard crumpled the red flier, dropped it to the ground, and stared at the breached lobby doors with a haunting realization.

  He stared down at the deep fingernail-gashes that ran down both of his blistered forearms and then looked at his vomit-caked shirt.

  “I’m infected…”

  16

  Colonel Mathis slouched sullenly against the rear-wall of the cramped supply closet, the very same closet he spent last sixteen hours. He reached a gloved hand up and wiped the condensation from the outside of his facemask. He was sweltering inside of his soiled white-suit, but he didn’t dare remove it and compromise his suit in the process. The only light in the dark closet came from the small LED tactical light attached to the right shoulder of his white-suit.

  Earlier, he heard the rippling explosions and felt the heat radiate though the building from the napalm bombardment. He knew what had happened.

  He was pretty sure that part of the building he was in had collapsed but he was thankful that the fire didn’t gut the entire building and roast him in the process.

  Nonetheless, the situation inside the closet wasn’t good.

  The odor inside his white-suit was noxious and near overpowering. Urine and feces ran down his legs and soaked through the uniform he was wearing underneath his suit. The closed environment of the suit prevented anything from coming in, but it also prevented anything from going out. His stomach ached with a strange mixture of nausea and hunger.

  In the hours that had passed, Mathis’ thoughts never veered towards the family he abandoned, to the horde outside, or to the fifteen hundred soldiers under his command who were most likely dead. His mind was quiet and alert as he stared at the closed door in front of him in a state of shock. It felt like a nightmare he couldn’t wake himself out of.

  Before his radio battery died, he heard numerous scrambled transmissions coming in from units all over the state. The news wasn’t good. It sounded like the Air Force was shooting down anybody trying to escape by aircraft and that the Marines were using deadly force to keep people from breaking the state-wide quarantine; military personnel included.

  He even heard reports that they were field testing a vaccine in some of the towns around Raleigh.

  The most frightening part, however, is that it didn’t sound like the vaccine was working. In fact, it was making things worse.

  His squadron was dead and his career was finished.

  He contemplated turning his pistol on himself multiple times in that dark closet, but he could never build the nerve to do it. Instead, he resolved to wait for help, even though he knew no help was coming.

  Finally, he made a decision.

  If death was coming for him, he vowed to accept it, but he refused to die alone in a closet, hiding from the creatures lurking outside in the dark. Granted, he hid while his men were being massacred, so he knew that opting to save himself after the chaos settled down was a selfish decision.

  It didn’t matter to him though; he made selfish decisions his entire life.

  The infected had stopped pounding against the closet door many hours ago and he no longer heard them wandering outside in the hall. In truth, it was hard for him to hear anything above the rumble of his stomach and the steady, albeit dwindling, sound of oxygen flowing through his white-suit’s respirator.

  He looked down at the gauge on his hip.

  He had a few hours of oxygen left in his tank.

  If he planned on getting out of the city, he knew he would have to act fast. If he ran out of air and had to take off his respirator to keep from suffocating… it would be certain death.

  He reached forward and gripped the doorknob tightly with one hand while gripping his pistol with his other. Taking a deep breath, he swung the door open and stepped out into the hall.

  The electricity was out and the hall was pitch-black.

  He swept the LED’s beam across the wall and along the floor. The intense heat from the fire bombardment had pealed the paint off of the walls and blackened the ceiling. Dried pools of blood and black soot covered the concrete floor.

  Out the corner of his eye he saw a glimmer. He turned towards the light and spotted the fire exit at the end of the hall.

  The door was slightly ajar and sunlight seeped-in around the edges. The door was charred black and warped from the intense heat.

  He heard a rustle.

  He quickly turned towards the noise and froze with surprise when his lamp’s beam reflected off of the back of a CDC white-suit. The light glimmered off of the suit’s reflective lettering. The CDC white-suit did not appear bloodied, battle-worn, or compromised in any way. It stood motionless at the far end of the hall with its arms at its side with its back turned towards Mathis.

  Mathis stared at the white-suit for several minutes, aiming his pistol between the white-suit’s shoulders.

  The thought occurred that perhaps the man was another survivor or part of a rescue detail, so Mathis finally spoke, barely above a whisper.

  “Hello? Are you… healthy?”

  His voice reverberated down the silent hall.

  The CDC white-suit spun around at the sound of Mathis’ voice.

  The white-suit’s faceshield had been shattered and the man’s face was badly disfigured. His nose had been bitten off and his lower jaw was missing. The man’s tongue freely lolled out of what remained of his mouth and dribbled salvia down onto the CDC logo on his chest.

  The CDC white-suit gurgled, making blood and pus bubble out of his throat and roll off of his tongue. He clouded gaze fixated on Mathis and he started sprinting towards him, pumping his arms madly as he closed the distance quickly.

  Mathis panicked and quickly opened fire in rapid succession.

  Gunfire lit the hallway with orange strobe.

  The white-suit’s body jerked with each shot until one bullet landed in his forehead. He collapsed face-down and slid across the floor, stopping just a few feet away from Mathis and leaving a bloody smear across the floor in his wake.

  Feral cries and rapid footsteps reverberated off of the walls as a horde of infected rushed towards him.

  Mathis quickly scanned the hall with his pistol as his shoulder light revealed five infected soldiers sprinting towards him, arms extended. Behind the soldiers, he saw numerous white-suits and burnt civilians approaching joining in the chase.

  Gasping, he lowered the pistol, turned towards the fire exit, and ran for his life.

  The LED light attached to his shoulder bobbled as he ran and his warm breath quick
ly fogged his faceshield. He heard the snarling horde behind him closing the distance at a relentless pace. Just when his energy nearly left him in the seemingly endless hallway, he slammed against the fire exit door.

  It swung open easily and the hallway was inundated with harsh sunlight.

  Mathis threw his hands up and shielded his eyes from the scalding sun. He ran blindly, squinting, barely able to make out basic shapes as he ran across the burnt parking lot.

  The horde followed in a frenzied pace.

  Mathis forced his eyes open and hissed in pain as his pupils constricted. He reached up and wiped the condensation off of his facemask as he continued forward.

  He was in the parking lot behind the half-collapsed concert hall; half of the concert hall had burnt down to the ground. Red fliers littered the ground, corpses were baked onto the half-melted pavement, and thick smoke inundated the air. Small fires smoldered on the burnt vehicular skeletons that peppered the lot and fires had gutted most of the surrounding buildings.

  He threw a quick glance behind him as he ran.

  The pursuing horde had tripled in number. Infected men, women, and children emerged out from in-between the flame-gutted vehicles and from the alleyways to join in the pursuit. Many of the infected were mutilated by severe burns and could only hobble along. Chunks of flesh fell from some of the more severely-burnt pursing corpses.

  The infected were closing in from all directions.

  Mathis frantically searched the lot for some sort of shelter or escape. On his left he saw a metallic awning with three white FEMA vans parked underneath it. The flames had gutted two of the vans, but the van in the middle appeared relatively unscathed.

  A man in tattered civilian clothes lunged out from behind the center van and charged towards–

  Mathis fired two shots into the man’s chest.

  Blood erupted from the man’s back and sprayed onto the FEMA logo adorned on the van’s backdoors.

  The man gurgled, tripped, and collapsed facedown. He struggled to get back up.