by catt dahman
Large sections were missing from over head of where he had been sleeping, and drops of rain dripped down onto the pillow and side of the mattress. His portion was sodden.
“The ceiling? I can’t believe this,” Dan grumbled. “We need to check the halls and then the rooms we are using and the ones we intend to use.”
“Don’t you think the fourth floor is high enough?” someone asked.
“For today and maybe tomorrow, maybe not in a few days. Maybe not sooner.” Coral sighed. He ushered them out, and they stayed in one place until the halls and then rooms had been checked. Three more rooms couldn’t be used because the rain was leaking into the ceiling and beginning to drip.
When Pax finally took a break, he watched Lydia and Dana trying to stay busy counting supplies and organizing. Annie sat a warm soda in front of him. Gus met his eyes, and the man shook his head, looking defeated.
“The bottom, the top, it just keeps coming,” Gus said.
“That’s why I said it was ridiculous to keep struggling. We should have gone into the rain,” Dana said under her breath,
Lydia slammed a hand against her friend’s shoulder hard enough to knock Dana into a wall and demanded, “Knock that shit off. You see out there in the hall? That’s my kid, and that’s why we don’t give up.”
Pax watched Sammy, pale and tired-looking, toss a small red ball along the hall away from her. She giggled a little. Blackie and Katie chased the ball, and then Katie paused to let the kitten get ahead, swat the ball, and run back to Sammy. Katie then picked the ball up in her mouth and politely carried it back. Sammy muttered a ‘thank you’ and gave each animal a pat on the head.
“Your child almost tripped me with the ball,” Jake complained to Lydia as he came in.
“Sammy, toss it the other way a while.”
“It’ll still be in the hallway,” Jake said.
Lydia put a hand on each of her hips, and said, “I want her where I can see her.” She had time to frown at Jake before she went back to giving Dana a dressing down.
“It isn’t as funny to watch Blackie.”
“She’s funny, no matter which way you toss it. Sammy, do like I say.”
Sammy let her voice crawl into what Lydia called a ‘whine zone’. “She doesn’t go as fast and slide as much ‘cause it isn’t as sloped.”
Pax and Gus chuckled.
Annie stopped glaring at her two friends and smiled at Lydia. “See? It doesn’t work the same.”
“Yup. It doesn’t slope as much,” said Jake as he managed a chuckle, too. “That’s why,” he stopped speaking.
Pax’s jaw dropped, and he spun, following Dan at a dead run.
“Oh, my God.” Annie got it a second later, scooped up Sammy and handed her to her mother, then grabbed Blackie and Katie. “Coral,” she yelled.
Pax told the rest as soon as he took a good look that this was serious.
“How serious?”
Pax looked at Coral, “The foundation is bad on this side, like the roof is. It’s falling in, but it’s also crumbling and collapsing. We may not have much longer.”
Chapter 5
Rodney’s chest felt as if a huge weight were crushing him. He wasn’t coughing now, only lying in bed, his fever raging. His appetite had long since gone away, and he wanted to give up as his lungs drown from the fluid of the pneumonia. It was almost funny that he was drowning inside where it was dry.
Marnie and Tina said if they had the right medications, he would be fine. Of all things, he had survived the rain to die of a common illness, but he was dying slowly.
On the other side of him, the teen, Carrie, was in poorer shape. Her arm had swollen badly, and the flesh had split for the thick yellowish pus to soak the bandages on her arm. Unfortunately, the place where the fork tines had slammed into her arm and into the bone didn’t fully drain.
Tina and Marnie had soaked her with alcohol and antibiotics and tried to swab the infection out, but it went deeper, and thin red lines radiated up her shoulder as fever racked her body. The infection smelled terrible.
Today, Tina said they would have to remove Carrie’s arm. If they didn’t, she would die. Carrie and her mother, Susie, cried a lot, and Carrie asked how she could stand the pain, but Tina didn’t have an answer.
They had nothing for the pain, and nothing better than a few sharp knives and maybe cauterization with fire to stop the bleeding. With that, Tina didn’t know if Carrie could stand the shock, so that pain might be for nothing.
On another cot, David rocked with his own pain as his bites turned rotten. The human mouth contains hundreds of kinds of bacteria, some which have never been properly identified or studied, much less killed.
The girl who had bitten him wasn’t a zombie and didn’t carry a new virus or infection, only the hundreds of the usual types of bacteria. The bites became very infected, and his body had so many places that were dangerous now that no amount of cutting or sawing, cleaning or taking antibiotics would save his life.
Marnie and Tina could do nothing for these three, but Marnie did pray with them. She answered them honestly: they couldn’t be saved, the pain and misery would increase, and the situation was hopeless for them.
Rodney asked Tina for soup, pleasing her that he might be rallying. He wasn’t hungry but wanted time without her in the room. She was a good woman and would have argued. “Would you help me, Susie? Rodney asked.
Susie wiped her eyes; she constantly cried over Carrie. “Help you? Do what?”
“I’m going downstairs,” he tried to smile as he told her.
“You can’t…that’s….” Her words failed. The floodwaters were above the third floor, rising to the fourth, seemingly to sneak up inches at a time as they clawed to reach everyone and everything above them. The waters reached upwards. Always upwards.
“That’s peace,” Rodney said. Gently, he helped David to stand, taking most of the other man’s weight. David managed a slight eager smile. He just wanted to stop the pain.
Carrie steadied herself and reached out to her mother for help. “I can’t stand anymore.”
Susie started to argue but felt drained and warm, and a sense of peace crept over her. She slipped her arms around her daughter and helped her walk into the hall, the two men behind them. She knew the feelings were surrender.
Carrie giggled. Before her mother could ask why she was giggling, Carrie whispered, “It’s funny, Mommy. We have to sneak away to be free from the pain, or Tina will try to heal us.”
Rodney struggled to breathe, aching and exhausted. His vision wavered. He was about to slip to the floor and take David down with him. A strong hand came out of nowhere to grip Rodney’s thin frame; he almost yelped but asked, “What are you doing, old man?”
“He’s hurting, Rodney.” George’s wife Etta reached to help David down the hallway. “You know he’s a heart patient. He’s been having bad pains all tonight.” She held a door open so that they could enter the emergency stairwell. With the extra help, all three patients managed to get down the stairs.
At the landing, they looked down at the water, using the flashlight Etta had brought. “Totally unprepared, no light.”
“Don’t need a light, Etta,” George said, “you’re a good woman.”
“And you’re a good man, George,” she pointed, “just a few down to the water, and then, it’s like a big ole bathtub, isn’t it? Only in a stairwell.”
“It doesn’t look so dirty in here,” Susie said, “I like how the light flickers on it.”
David sat down on a step, his feet a mere inch out of the water. He wiggled dizzily, but Rodney sat next to him, wedging in tightly. Carrie was about to argue with her mother, but Susie sat down and pulled her teen daughter onto her lap as if she were a little girl. She hugged the girl and let Carrie bury her face in her neck as she cuddled.
“Don’t waste your breath, old man,” Etta warned George.
He slumped to sit next to the rest, unable to argue as pain rocketed th
rough his heart, up and down his arm, in his chest and neck. He groaned with the misery.
“Father, hear our prayers,” David whispered.
“Amen,” Etta intoned as they pushed themselves forwards into the water.
Anger tickled their brains, confusion washed warmly over them, and peace settled in behind the other emotions as they chocked and gasped, slapping at the water a few seconds before letting it take away the pain and fear.
When the cries and splashing finally went silent and no more sounds echoed in the stairwell, a figure, a floor and a half above, sighed, her voice hitching as she sobbed, and tears ran down her cheeks.
Tina felt a terrible sadness fill her chest and throat, but she was finally able to walk the few steps upwards to the landing and open the door to the stairwell and go out.
With the door closed, she slid down and had a long cry for her patients.
Chapter 6
In the morning of the seventh day, Mark shot himself.
In the afternoon, the survivors looked out of the window as they always did, watching the water, wondering if someone were coming to get them. None of the other buildings were above the water now.
“What’s that?” someone asked
“A cow.”
“What’s that?”
“Trash. Boards,” were the answers to the question.
Over and over someone would spy something and ask what it was, hoping, making believe he was waiting for something. The rest would say it was trash or an animal, sometimes a person or other things; it filled the time as the rain fell.
Pittering.
Plinking on the roof and against the windows.
Drop – drop – drop. Pattering.
“Look. That isn’t just trash.”
“Holy cat shit,” Ben yelled, “it’s a boat. It’s a friggin boat come to get us.” He waved frantically. Everyone pushed forwards to look.
It was a big boat, maybe the size of a yacht with a cover over the deck, windows, and a small life raft, sitting, and tied on the back.
Coral’s face went bright with a grin. He was ready to relax to the sound of motor instead of the constant raindrops.
He suddenly stopped smiling.
Where was the sound of the motor?
He was tall enough to see over everyone’s heads.
The boat spun lazily, stern first; then, it started coming closer, starboard first. In a second, it swirled again and was bow first. No one was controlling the boat. It swept against the side of the hotel, but had it hit the part with the crumbling foundation, they might have felt the place shake, but instead the boat glanced off, rolled, and went along its way.
“No,” a woman slammed herself against the window, “come get us.”
“Hey.” A man slammed fists on the glass. “We’re here.”
Without much noise, the glass cracked and spun out into the water below. Both the woman and man next to it fell out, and because so many had pressed forwards to see, they dropped out of the picture window frame like lemmings. Ben vanished out the window. Sara screamed and grabbed for her husband, Mitch.
He caught her hand and tried to pull her back, but either the couple behind her wanted to jump or was leaning that way; their weight pulled Sara down with them. They all splashed and then screamed as the water surrounded them. Mitch was still leaning out, holding onto the wall and his arm out in the rain.
Mitch yanked his arm back, unsure how his wife could be gone, but his eyes rolled back in his head, and he began to roar and scream, turning his back to the window and going toward the rest. Coral knocked Lydia and Sammy away to safety. Pax shoved Annie behind him, but Mitch was crazed.
Gus drew his gun to shoot, but Mitch was moving too fast; Gus didn’t have a clear shot. Katie bounded forwards and slammed into the howling man’s midsection, driving him to the floor. Pax and Jake fell on him and yanked out handcuffs and called for rope as they beat him down. He was no longer their friend but a crazed animal.
Katie growled at him.
When Mitch was tied, they left him in the room and closed the door.
“The boat…what about the boat?” Lydia asked.
Coral understood that she was confused after seeing it and thinking for one precious second that they were about to be rescued and taken to safety. She had thought the nightmare was over.
It wasn’t.
“That was just a boat, Lydia. No one was running it,” Coral said quietly.
“Why don’t they come?” Lydia sobbed. “Will they tomorrow? The next day? When will they come for us?”
Sammy held her mother, crying as well, “I wanna go home.”
“Me, too,” Coral said. For the first time, his eyes filled with tears of frustration and fear.
“Where’s Tina?” Marnie asked.
“Oh, Jeez, she was one of those who fell out, wasn’t she?” Annie said.
Marnie ran from the room, crying.
“We have enough food for maybe six-seven days, ” Dana said happily and noted something in the little notebook she carried around all the time.
“Way to go, Dana. Good thing they fell out the window, huh?” Jake sneered.
“Unless you can survive on barbeque sauce, we’re down to the last of things, Jake.”
“We’ll come up with something.” Jake leaned back and thought about food. He was so damned hungry all the time.
“Why the hell are you looking at my dog?” Pax snapped.
Jake shrugged.
“No. Seriously. Why are you looking at Katie that way?”
“Jake,” Coral began.
Jake glared, “Just saying that the dog is eating our food, and there comes a time when survival of the fittest rules. We’ll have to eat what we can.”
Pax exploded and yelled, “You touch my dog, and I will freakin’ kill you, you son of a bitch.”
Annie touched his arm. “Pax….”
“He wants to eat my dog. Sick bastard.”
“Don’t touch my cat,” said Annie as she whirled on Jake as she thought of that “you leave Blackie alone.”
“We aren’t gonna eat the animals,” Gus said.
“How are you gonna survive then, Gus? You thinking about how maybe the dead are looking tasty?”
“That’s sick.”
Jake continued, ignoring Annie. “What about Oren or Mitch? They’re fresh.”
“He’s serious. He is. My God, Jake, what comes after the animals and Mitch and Oren? Sammy? Me?” Dana screamed at him.
Lydia clutched Sammy closer to her. “Don’t even look at my baby.”
Jake urged them to follow him, “Come look at this. I saw this early this morning.” He opened a closet, and under the junk at the bottom were cans of food. “Someone hid stuff here. They want more than their share. Who was it?”
Coral looked at every face around him. “It could be anyone here or one of the people who fell.”
“It’s a lot of extra calories for us,” Dana said, picking the can up from the shelf and putting it in a box. “Chili.” “This will be good unless you give it all to the dog.”
Pax turned on her, “What if I give her half my share? Huh? But no, she gets a full share. She took Mitch out before he could hurt anyone. She did her part. What have you done?”
“She has done more than you, Dana,” Jake admitted, “did you hide the food?” Dana let the box drop at her feet, took a step, and slapped Jake.
Without thinking, he slapped her back.
“Hey.” Gus swung his gun around.
“Stop it,” Coral yelled, “everyone stop it.” He pointed at Gus. “You stop pointing that thing at people, or I’ll take it away, you hear me? And Jake, you knock off the threats. You touch one of the animals or anything, and you’ll deal with me. Dana, put the food back, and let Lydia help. None better be missing, and I will guard it myself to keep it safe.”
Lydia took Sammy’s hand, and she and Dana took the box back with the rest of the food.
“Katie gets a portio
n. The cat can eat. Stop the infernal fighting.”
At dinnertime, Marnie was gone, and so was Mitch; they thought maybe she had helped him, and they had both gone out the window. Dana took a pad and pencil she carried and figured the calories and food with two less people.
Her smile chilled Coral to the core as he watched her add the numbers.
All the medicine, the food, and everything they needed in other stores out there were beneath the water, thirty or forty feet down. Even with flooding, they could have scavenged for things, but with the water being poison, they couldn’t touch a thing below the surface. How much was lost below?
Once people would have thought about things they couldn’t get to, such as diamonds and gold, fancy electronics, and treasures. Coral dreamed of a tangy, crunchy apple, a salad with juicy tomatoes and crisp lettuce, a tender steak and buttery, salty corn on the cob. It was enough to make him cry, wanting that so badly.
That night, Jake vanished.
Chapter 7
Jake had his own stash of food and a few bottles of rum. When everyone was asleep and the rain had settled from a hard downpour to a light pattering on the roof, he slipped out of his room and crept down the hallway. Most of the rest didn’t come near this part of the hotel, the oldest section that had a crumbling foundation and a ceiling that was falling in globs and pieces.
He went into a room.
Sitting on the floor, Jake opened the cans with his knife. He was so hungry, and now he had a can of ravioli, a can of white beans, a pack of baked potato chips, and a big, family-sized can of peaches in thick syrup. After he ate and drank his two cans of orange soda, he drank the syrup and belched.
He felt bad about slapping Dana and being angry to her. He hoped she would accept his apology and thought the can of meatballs and spaghetti-o would help. He felt bad about the way he had treated Pax, too. The last thing Jake would ever do was to harm an animal, much less eat one. He had just been feeling ornery and wanted to pick fights.