“He’s got twenty-four hours, but Wellstone needs medicine before we do anything else,” I said.
“Don’t you get it? There is no cure! That’s what our training was all about. You can’t save him. You can’t save any of them.” She began to walk away, but I grabbed her arm.
“I’ll do everything I can to find a cure when we get back. I’ll give up my life if it will save them, but they will die without medicine, too.”
She pulled away from me.
“Yes, they will.” I saw defeat in Clarissa’s eyes for the first time.
“So that’s it? You’re just going to quit? If that’s the case, then I’ll go by myself,” I responded, but Clarissa grabbed me by the arm and forced me up against the side of the building.
“My brother gave his life to make sure you lived. You are not going to risk it now for something that won’t do any good.”
“I’m going with her,” Stacey said behind us.
“So am I,” said Samantha.
“Only with your commanding officer,” Rodriguez said, catching the eye of Clarissa. “It’s our only hope, chica. So are you in?”
Clarissa smiled, letting out a small grunt that was nearly a laugh. She looked at me.
“You swear you’ll do everything for them to save their lives?” She pushed against me harder. “Do you swear on your life, on the lives of these men?”
“No, I swear on Michael’s.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lt. Rodriguez and Clarissa came up with the plan to get to the hospital. They said we were lucky it was this side of the interstate and not deeper into the city. Still, it was seven miles away. The track would take us through the woods again, not down the road, so we would be harder to catch by any Deracine patrols. When we got close, we knew we would have to commandeer a vehicle to bring back enough supplies.
“It’s too bad we don’t already have something to drive in,” Samantha said, “or this would be a shorter trip.”
“Yeah, and we’d have Deracine bikers all over us before we got there,” said Stacey.
“Will you two shut up?” commanded Clarissa, but softer now since we were out in the woods. “Four women trying to be quiet out in the forest. We’ll be caught in the next five minutes.”
Rodriguez led up front, with the rest of us falling in behind him, two-by-two. Like Michael, Clarissa said I wasn’t allowed to leave her side, and for the good of the mission, I decided to follow her order.
Fallen Deracine forces lay strewn across the field in front of the compound. The dead were more numerous than I remembered, shot down by my gun and by others who only wanted to protect themselves. In death, they looked normal, peaceful even. By the time we made it to the woods, the dead were gone and darkness covered our movements.
We moved slowly, watching every step, just as we had done in training. One wrong step on a twig or the rustling of leaves could cause us to be attacked. Still, we knew we were fighting against time and that dawn would be coming up before long.
“We are to the halfway point,” Rodriguez said as he motioned to a large oak tree.
I didn’t think much of it until he turned on a small flashlight and shone it up at a large limb that hung over us. The broken nooses which hung down from it, looked old and rotted. Rodriguez followed one of the ropes down with the light and finally hit the ground, showing masses of bones that lay in all different directions, intertwined in strips of weathered clothing. The skulls leered up at me as they did in the cars on the interstate, but these seemed different, like they were there for another reason.
“Take five minutes here. Guys bathroom on this side of the tree,” Rodriguez said as he stepped around the alabaster bones.
“Why were these hung?” asked Stacey.
“Ask your sergeant,” Rodriguez said, before he disappeared. We looked at Clarissa for the answer.
“God, I hate when they do this to you new recruits.” She shook her head, looking up at the tree and not at us. “When all this started, everyone was freaking out of course, but some more than others. People thought they could lock themselves up and be safe, you know, but it didn’t work that way. We had sent out our first couple of scouting parties to find food, supplies, and survivors. I was just a kid, but I went with Michael. We heard screaming and shooting over here with our platoon and came out to investigate. By the time we got here, we found more than two dozen people hanging.”
“Was it the other unit?” Sam asked. Clarissa nodded.
“Why did they do it?” I asked.
“They claimed they were all Déracinés, but we didn’t believe them. Déracinés were unorganized at the time. When we started looking over the bodies, we couldn’t figure out why they were killed. They were from almost all different walks of life. Almost.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, some of you may remember the rumors, that the virus was only being spread by a certain race, or gender, or even class. When we started checking their IDs, we found that they all came from one section of the city.”
“They were scapegoats,” I muttered.
“Yeah. They were killed just because they were from the poor part of town. Can you believe that?”
“What happened to the troops who were involved?”
“Most of them left the compound and never came back. They said we were too weak for them. The ones who stayed were never allowed to be part of the defense again. Michael let them be farmers, even though I said he should have killed them.” Clarissa blew air out of her mouth like she was trying to force a laugh. “Even the main guy who carried it out, Sergeant Bastrop.”
* * * *
When we hit the first thoroughfare that went into the city, we stayed in the tree line, still not wanting to draw attention to ourselves. The buildings were dark and many destroyed or gutted, as they had been for years. We passed the brick and concrete structures before Rodriguez pointed out the silhouette of the hospital building.
Staying low, we went from car to car, as the parking lot was full of them. There were a few staggering bodies that grumbled as we passed, but we made it to the shattered front doors without any encounters.
“Oh, my God, I’m going to be sick,” Sam whimpered as the smell of death overwhelmed us.
“This is ground zero, people. There’s a lot of dead in here, but there are others too, so be careful,” Rodriguez said as we all turned our headlamps on for the first time.
“We marked a large storage of medical equipment in the center of the building, so let’s get in and out real fast.”
Again, Rodriguez led the way, as we went through what was left of the central lobby. The desk area was empty, but at the bloodstained front counter, a few skeletal remains lay in chairs or on the floor.
“Doesn’t the ER have supplies?” asked Sam.
“It’s at the back of the building, and we’ve already gotten it,” said Clarissa.
We followed Rodriguez down the first hall and continued past different laboratory and office doors until we reached the center of the building, where there was a small check-in station.
“What is your last name?”
None of us moved.
“What is your last name?” we heard again.
Rodriguez peered around the corner and his light glanced off the face of an older woman, staring blankly out into the middle of the room.
“What is your last name!” she finally screamed. When she did, growls and screams came from down the hall.
“It’s go time!” Rodriguez yelled as he turned his light up bright and moved forward. The rest of us did the same, running past the woman, down the hall, taking a turn to the left and then right, into the heart of the hospital. He stopped at a hallway door marked with a green circle spray-painted on it.
“This is it,” he said, firing two shots at the lock of the door, before pulling it open. “Clarissa, Sam, you’re with me. Stacey, Jennifer, watch our backs.”
They entered the room, pulling out large duffel bags
to fill with medical supplies. Stacey looked down the hallway, and I turned around to cover the area we had just come from. Seconds felt like minutes as I heard Rodriguez urge everyone to go faster.
“Got one!” Stacey yelled. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see a gaunt man in a hospital gown come out of a room from down the hallway. Blood dripped from his mouth as he began to charge. Stacey dropped him with two quick shots to the chest.
When I turned, I could hear noises coming from around the corner, but these were not growls or screams. It was the sound of a motor.
“Déracinés!” I shouted as I saw the headlight of a motorcycle round the corner. I flinched when I heard the engine blare harder, the bike picking up more speed as it came toward me. A quick flash of fire caused bullets to hit the wall just above my head, but it also let me quickly see the silhouette of the man. I pulled the trigger and felt three quick rounds charge out of my rifle. The first hit the light, causing sparks to fly across the floor, but one of the next two hit the man, as the bike tumbled over on its side and screeched down toward us, finally coming to a stop just feet away. The figure lay dead behind it. Still, even with him gone, we heard more motors coming toward us.
“We have no time!” Rodriguez barked and all three came out of the room, handing us full duffel bags to carry.
“The front exit is blocked,” I said.
“We’ll have to go through the ER then,” Clarissa said, pushing me in front of her as we ran down the hallway, not worrying about the rooms to each side, hoping our speed could take us to safety.
The ER was worse than the front of the hospital, with the bones of the dead strewn around the room. We couldn’t help but trip on and kick them as we went, hurrying toward the large opening where there used to be glass doors. A motorcycle squealed to a halt right in front of us, but Rodriguez and Stacey shot its rider before he could even turn.
“There’re too many,” said Sam. “What are we going to do?”
All of us went silent, still hearing the snarling sounds of humans and engines alike.
“I’ll draw them off,” Stacey finally said, handing Rodriguez the duffel bag. “Just get back to the woods, and I’ll meet you there.” She picked up the motorcycle and kicked it back on.
“Are you crazy?” I nearly shouted, stepping forward to stop her.
“And keep her safe,” she said, before revving the engine and tearing out of our sight.
“Stacey! Stacey!”
Clarissa grabbed my jacket and forced me in the opposite direction, but she couldn’t block out the sounds of screaming, cursing, gunshots, and the blaring of engines.
We ran through the parking lot, hoping Stacey’s sacrifice and the darkness would help us get back to the compound.
At the edge of the parking lot, I saw the back of an ambulance. The back door was missing and it was in the ditch, but I thought there might be a chance.
“Where are you going?” demanded Clarissa, but I didn’t answer, running through the back and sitting down in the seat behind the wheel. The keys dangled in the ignition and I turned them. The ambulance came to life underneath me.
“Good idea,” Rodriguez said, now getting in the passenger seat.
“There’s a problem,” I said.
“What?”
“I don’t know how to drive.”
* * * *
“How we doing?” Rodriguez yelled from behind the wheel. I gave a thumbs-up to him in the rearview mirror as Sam and Clarissa pointed their weapons out of the back of the ambulance.
We were taking the same path home and would eventually have to get out and go by foot, but the ambulance at least gave us a short break from our journey. I saw the last of the dark buildings disappear behind us, happy we had made it this far. Even Clarissa looked up at me for a moment and smiled.
Rodriguez weaved in and between the abandoned cars, tapping some as he drove quickly through the narrow passages they left.
“I think we’re in the clear, chica,” he said, looking back at me.
I didn’t see the smoke in the darkness, but I saw a flash of light hit a car directly in front of us, causing it to explode into a ball of fire. Bullets ripped through the top of the ambulance, and Clarissa pulled me to the floor. There were motorcycles coming in from behind us, and we immediately started to fire back at them.
Rodriguez swerved faster now, picking up speed and almost throwing Sam and Clarissa off their feet. Bullets smashed the lights on the back of the ambulance, throwing up sparks as Sam shot back, her bullets hitting the cars right next to the gunmen.
“We’ve got to get out of here!” yelled Clarissa.
“I’m working on it! I’m working on it!” barked Rodriguez. “Hold on for a hard left.” We held on tight as Rodriguez turned and the back of the vehicle slid around, hitting a parked car. He straightened it up again and hit the gas, but the motorcycles were smaller and quicker, easily maneuvering closer and closer.
Their shots rang out again and Clarissa was the first one up to return fire. With a steady hand, she picked out the closest motorcycle rider and let loose on him. He twisted and turned and disappeared behind a car.
“Road’s clear, hang on!”
Sam and Clarissa shot down another motorcycle as we accelerated. Others weaved around it and continued to fire back.
“I’m out!” said Sam, and I passed her my rifle. Another motorcycle zoomed past the back of the ambulance and soon we felt the tire go flat. The ambulance bumped and tugged, continuing the struggle down the road.
“Little help!” Rodriguez shouted, handing me his rifle. I sat down beside him in the passenger’s seat and fired out the side window at the motorcycle, seeing it blow up in a fireball next to me.
Looking over at Rodriguez, I saw him smiling at me.
“Look out!” I yelled as I saw another motorcycle shoot into his window. Glass shattered as the bullets hit him. He struggled with the steering wheel, but the backend of the vehicle swung around. It felt like it was in slow motion when we began to flip, then I slammed into Rodriguez as the front windshield blew out. Sparks flew for a moment as the truck skidded against the gravel, only stopping when it finally went into the ditch.
“Rodriguez,” I said weakly.
“I’m here, chica,” he replied, but his voice was raspy.
Slowly, I pulled myself out of the front of the ambulance and Clarissa met me with a limping Sam, both carrying duffel bags.
“Where’s Rodriguez?” asked Clarissa.
I pointed and she immediately jumped inside, even though we could hear more engines in the distance.
“This is the end of the road for me, Clarie,” Rodriguez said. She turned her headlamp on, revealing bullet wounds in his side as well as a piece of metal lodged deep in his leg. Still, he smiled at her like he had no care in the world.
“No, I’m not losing you and Michael,” she said.
“We’ve got to get going,” Sam said.
“No! We can get him out. Just help me. Help me, please!”
“Clarie,” Rodriguez said, “I’ve always loved that attitude of yours.” Slowly, he reached up and pulled a grenade off from her jacket. “I’ll hold them back one last time.”
Clarissa didn’t say anything, but leaned in and touched her mask against his, rubbing it with her hand before she lifted herself out of the wreckage. She grabbed additional grenades from Sam and me and set them down next to the ambulance.
“Grab the bags and let’s go,” she ordered, leading us off into the woods. It wasn’t a moment too early as we got a glimpse of lights coming down the road just as we got past the tree line. We ran as far as we could, before hearing the explosion.
“Thanks, Rodriguez,” I heard Clarissa say under her breath.
* * * *
We walked through the darkness as Clarissa found our bearings, leading us where we needed to go. Eventually, she found the path and we trudged through the woods trying to find our way back to the hanging tree. It was there we found
her, Stacey, sitting with her back against the large oak. She was smiling as we walked up to her, her eyes fixed on us. Her pistol lay next to her as blood trickled down her right temple, her mask missing.
Chapter Nineteen
The walk home was sobering and difficult. Even though Clarissa said it was a waste of time, Sam and I buried Stacey. It had been her sacrifice that let us escape in the first place. I couldn’t imagine letting her sit there next to the pile of bones underneath the tree. We marked the shallow grave with a cross that we piecemealed together with sticks. It’s what Sam said they did back before the virus.
The only thing that kept me together was knowing Stacey had not only saved us, but allowed us to save many more lives with the medicine we were able to get. Still, I missed my friend, the first one who was willing to even talk to me at the compound.
We left a couple of smaller bags at the tree to retrieve later, but we were still burdened with the others. My only resolve was to get them back to the compound to help as many people as possible, then work as hard as I could to find the cure that lay somewhere within me. Only then could I save Michael and so many others who were infected.
None of us had slept in the last twenty-four hours, and the walk back was done in more of a trance than anything else. About the only things keeping me awake were thoughts of Michael and the pain that ran through my legs with each step. Still, my mind was numb, so it surprised me to hear Clarissa began mumbling words of a song.
“Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.”
We listened to her sing the rest of beautiful minstrel, as she spoke of a band of angels taking her home. I wasn’t quite sure where home was, but if it was anything like the melody, I’m sure it was a wonderful place. When she finished, both Sam and I looked at her.
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