by Hunt, Jack
“Any more, sir?” one of the three escorting soldiers asked.
“There are another six in the west wing.”
“That’s overrun.”
“We need them.”
The soldier nodded and they left them behind with the doctor and the two soldiers. As soon as the door was closed behind them, one of the two soldiers watching over the doc stepped forward and locked the door before removing his mask.
Jenna frowned in disbelief. “Brody?”
He hurried over to her and grabbed her firmly by her shoulders. “You okay?”
“Yeah. But what’s going on?”
He looked over to the doc, at which point the other soldier removed his mask. “Hi Jenna,” Gottman said, an expression of sadness on his face. Gottman had found his father in the hospital but he was no longer the same man. He’d succumb to the pandemic that had befallen many. He had no other choice than to leave him behind.
“There’s no time to explain. We need to get out of here. The doc here is going to help, aren’t you, doc?” Gottman said sticking a rifle into his side. He winced and reached around to the back of his head, and brought out a hand covered in blood.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Ah it’s just a flesh wound,” Gottman said. “Made him a little more compliant, didn’t it, doc?” Gottman put his mask back on and the doc led them to the rear of the room, through another door into an adjoining room and then into a hall that was empty. It was mostly used for technicians taking blood samples between different labs and it wasn’t exposed to the main arteries that ran through the hospital. Having worked there for long enough Jenna knew he was leading them to an exit on the east side. As the doctor moved down the hall, he used his card to buzz through doors into restricted areas. All the while the steady echo of gunfire kept them all in a state of uneasiness.
“We have a truck on the east side that will get us away from here,” Brody said.
Jenna looked him up and down as they moved through the corridors. “Why?”
“What?” he asked keeping a steady pace behind the doctor.
“Why did you come here?”
“Well it wasn’t for a checkup,” he said with a smile. Her lip curled then her half-smile disappeared. There wasn’t time to get into it though she was curious to know why he would risk his career, and life to get her out. It wasn’t like she had given him reason. If anything she had made it clear that she no longer wanted contact. And in all honesty, she wasn’t sure he really cared. Her thoughts shifted to the divorce papers. Had he signed them? She shook her head. It didn’t matter. Right now getting the hell out of there was priority number one.
“Go, go, go!” Brody said waving on the small group as he moved to the back of the line in preparation of accessing the next corridor, which would take them back into the guts of the hospital. From there it was a clear shot to the exit, approximately a hundred yards. The door beeped as Sorenson swiped his card over the reader. Gottman pulled it open and was immediately confronted by a knife-wielding woman who was drenched from head to toe in blood. Instead of shooting her, he reared back his rifle and slammed the butt into her face knocking her out cold.
There was no time to gawk.
They stepped over her and pressed on, moving quickly while scanning the left and right for additional threats. Ten yards and a heavyset guy holding a shotgun walked around the corner and before Gottman could react, he unloaded a round knocking Janice, the other nurse, back into the wall. Her only saving grace was that she died quickly. Gottman returned fire and a round struck the guy in the shoulder causing him to drop the shotgun, but the situation only got worse as three severely infected patients barreled around the corner.
“Brody!”
He couldn’t help as he was also fighting off a patient who’d picked up a dead soldier’s rifle. The damn thing still had half of his arm attached to it.
“Get into one of the rooms,” Brody shouted to the others who were sandwiched between the onslaught. Jenna darted through the nearest door, while a couple of the others went into another. What seemed like a good idea, turned out to be a mistake.
She turned just in time to see a man wield a shiny object.
It struck her in the face, knocking her unconscious.
Chapter 14
The magnitude of the situation bore down as they arrived on the outskirts of Marfa High School. Something had gone terribly wrong. Along the way they’d seen vehicles on fire in the middle of the road with engines still running, doors open and the drivers missing, as if they’d abandoned them in a hurry. There was a six-car pileup on Murphy Street, and a riot between soldiers south of Mesa Street so they had to head east on Washington. Nick glanced at a white truck as they passed by. Its windshield was smashed in. There was blood on the hood and a woman lying motionless on the ground. Her skull caved in. To the left, a large truck had taken out a wall, collided into a home and set it on fire but the fire service wasn’t out trying to extinguish the flames. Under the cover of night they saw the silhouettes of people running, and heard the echo of gunfire. Two darted in front of their vehicle and Emerick had to slam on the brakes causing them to jolt forward in their seats. It was as if the whole damn town had decided to turn on each other. By the time they had the school in sight he could tell things were not the same. The doors were wide open, the military trucks gone and there were multiple dead soldiers. Emerick eased off the gas and looked out trying to make sense of it.
“What the hell has happened?” Angela said.
Nick went to get out and Emerick cautioned him. “Wait! Let me go in first. Stay here.”
“If you’re going in, so am I. You’ll need someone to watch your back.”
He nodded and hopped out. Emerick went around to the back of the truck and pulled out the rifle, and tucked the Glock into the small of his back. “Stay close.”
“Don’t I get a handgun?” Nick asked.
He scowled. “Kid, not even if you were the last person on the planet.”
Emerick told Angela to keep the doors locked, and if they saw soldiers approach, to drive away. They would meet them back at the baseball diamond. She nodded and the last thing Nick heard was the sound of the doors locking.
With that said they ran at a crouch towards the school. Nick glanced back at Angela and Callie and tried to give a reassuring smile but it probably just came across as nervous. It was so quiet. A far cry from the sounds of gunfire and soldiers talking among themselves when they left. They entered a set of double doors at the rear of the school, and stepped over some dead soldiers. All of their weapons had been taken. Whoever had engaged with them had made sure to take what they wanted.
“You think the parents did this?”
“It’s possible,” Emerick said peering into the dark hallway. Their boots echoed slightly as they moved inside. Nick glanced over his shoulder to check behind him. The fear of encountering someone like Emerick’s neighbor stuck in his mind. He couldn’t shake the image of the blood running down his chest, and the knife in his hand, or seeing the shock on Emerick’s face after he killed him.
If police were now looking for his killer, they had to be far away as they hadn’t heard a single siren since heading for the school.
“Where did they put them?”
“In the gymnasium.”
Nick was certain that any second now a soldier was going to appear and they’d both find themselves zip tied and joining the others, but that idea soon left his mind as they rounded the corner that led to the gym. The doors, which were once sealed, were wide open and it was clear that the students were gone, but the question was where?
It smelled like urine and puke inside the gym.
Nick used the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the way. The light washed over a few faces he recognized. Debbie Gunther. A bullet had penetrated her skull. Keith Carson’s back was riddled with wounds. Nick lifted his top to cover the lower half of his mouth. He wasn’t sure this was related to a pandemic
but he wasn’t taking any chances. Who knew what was driving people insane? Was it airborne?
Emerick stopped and pulled his phone out. “You check over there. We’re not leaving until I make sure my boy isn’t here.” They parted and Emerick searched the east side of the gym while Nick dealt with the opposite end. He stepped over multiple bodies and his stomach twisted. Why would the military open fire on a bunch of students? Not all of them were there, leading him to believe the vast majority had been led away, but sixteen were lying inside that room. It looked as if they had fanned out and attempted to escape. The windows above the bleachers were shattered. The walls were peppered with rounds, and blood was everywhere. It was like being in a nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from.
“You found anything?” Emerick asked.
“No. You?”
He shook his head, staring down at lifeless corpses. “Nothing.”
Just as they were making their way out of there, Nick swore he heard something but couldn’t place it. “Emerick. Did you hear that?”
“What?”
They stood still.
Emerick waved him off. “Forget it. It’s probably just your imagination.”
They took a few more steps and then both of them heard it. It was a groan coming from their right, over by the climbing ropes. Nick hurried over to find Nancy Ritalin alive. She was barely hanging on to life. She had two wounds — one to her shoulder and the other to her left leg. Based on the amount of blood it was clear she had lost a considerable amount, and should have already been dead.
“Nick, stay back,” Emerick bellowed.
Nick shook his head and dropped down to a knee. “Nancy. What happened?”
Her eyes focused in and she recognized him. “Nick?”
They didn’t really know each other nor did they hang out in the same circle of friends but she was one of those people that always would say hello, and had a smile on her face. Just a good person.
“Nancy. Where are the others?”
She coughed. “They took them out of here on the school buses. I don’t know where.” She gasped and heaved again as if speaking was too difficult. Her eyes closed and Nick had to shake her to keep her conscious.
“Nancy, why did the military open fire?”
“They didn’t. There were others that made their way in, sick people, like Toby Winters. They had guns and just…” She took a deep breath and then just like that she was gone.
“Nancy. Nancy!” Nick yelled.
“She’s gone, Nick. We need to leave.”
He couldn’t believe this was happening. It seemed surreal, like he was walking in a dream state unable to escape. Emerick grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him to his feet, pulling him towards the door. Nick kept looking at her until they disappeared around the corner.
“They couldn’t have gone far. Not under these conditions.”
“There were a lot of soldiers,” Nick said.
“Maybe. But there are a lot of residents. I wouldn’t have been the only concerned parent that showed up here. Uncle Sam made a big mistake, thinking they could come into our neck of the woods and do whatever the hell they liked.”
Moving down the corridor they made it to the back doors and pushed out to find the Chevy gone. “What the heck?”
“Maybe they encountered hostiles,” Nick said.
The sound of yelling could be heard nearby.
They strode towards the road and came around the corner to find about twenty people attacking one another. Three individuals spotted Nick and began running towards them.
“Fall back,” Emerick said to Nick, pushing him with one arm while raising the rifle with the other. He unloaded two rounds, taking out the one closest to them before he turned and they dashed back into the school, slamming the door behind them. Frantically Nick looked for anything to hold the doors in place but there was nothing, then he looked down at a dead soldier. He crouched and undid his belt, pulling it out as he rolled him over. Then he wound the thick leather around the door handles and tightened it.
No sooner had he done that than he felt the door being pulled from the other side. They stumbled back and dashed into the heart of the school. Trapped. Isolated. And surrounded by threats.
Forty minutes earlier, Sergio and Lars had returned to Alpine with one goal in mind — finding the coroner’s office and disposing of Viola’s body. He had all but made up his mind that he was ready to kill if need be to avoid jail time. Sergio had berated himself on the drive back while Lars remained silent. It was for the best as he’d considered shooting him and leaving his body out in the desert too. Having one other person know about Viola death was one too many. What if the cops brought in Lars? What if they wore him down? It wouldn’t be the first time someone close had turned in a friend, or family member to get a reduced sentence. The only reason he was keeping him alive was he needed his assistance. He couldn’t do this alone.
That all changed when they arrived back in Alpine and headed for the hospital.
The dirt bikes idled at the edge of the road as Sergio looked at the roadblock up ahead. “What is going on?”
“Dear God, do you not listen? I told you about this,” Lars said. “They’ve been here all day.”
He jerked his head towards another road, and pulled away expecting Lars to follow. Sergio glanced in his mirror to check. As much as Lars might have wanted to fly the coop, he was in this as much as Sergio. He might not have been the one to wrap his hands around Viola’s throat but he dug the grave. Sergio made sure of that. If he was going down he wasn’t going alone.
Sergio jerked forward, dizzy on gasoline fumes. His adrenaline had kicked in as he felt the dirt bike rattle between his legs. A quick squeeze of the clutch and he shifted up a gear. As they soared down the road, his eyes widened as he saw multiple vehicles on fire. Suddenly a guy darted out with a baseball bat. He swung it with violent intention to knock Sergio’s head clean off. He ducked and the bike wobbled beneath him. The bat skimmed the top of his motorcycle helmet. A glance in the mirror revealed Lars wasn’t as lucky. The guy quickly adjusted and this time punched the bat directly into Lars’ stomach. He flew off, and the bike slammed into a car, crumpling, the back wheel still spinning madly as the engine roared. Sergio jerked the handles on his bike, and skidded around, heading back to help him. Lars looked as if he was out cold, as the madman came towards him, gearing up for the finale. He raised his bat just as Sergio reached around, pulled his Glock and squeezed off a round. The attacker’s legs buckled and he dropped to his knees as Sergio soared by him firing one more into the back of his head. He brought the bike to a stop, and hopped off near Lars.
“Lars!”
As much as he banged heads with him and had considered taking him out, it was just hot air, frustration and worry driving him. He had few friends in the world but Lars was his closest. That’s why he’d helped him dispose of Viola. He could have turned him down, hell, he could have phoned the police but instead he showed up willing to do whatever. Sergio removed his helmet and gave him a few slaps. “Come on, buddy.”
His eyes started blinking, and then he coughed, and that was followed by a large gasp before more coughing occurred. “Holy shit. You had me worried there for a minute.”
“What happened?” Lars asked.
“Some maniac just scored a home run.”
He frowned and then his memory came back. He was quick to look past Sergio. Behind them was the body of the asshole.
“Is he alive?”
“If he is, he would damn well be a living miracle,” Sergio said before laughing and shoving the Glock back into the small of his back. He hauled him to his feet and Lars put his hands on his knees and took a deep breath. Sergio patted him on the back as Lars tried to get his bearings. He looked over at his bike, which was a complete write-off.
“Shit.”
“Ah don’t worry, jump on the back of mine.”
They turned to head towards it when bullets ricocheted off the tops of n
earby cars. Both of them hit the ground trying to get a bead on the shooter. “Where’s that coming from?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see a damn thing out here.”
The streets were dark, even the street lamps had been turned off which was unusual. Both of them scrambled to the closest car to take cover. Sergio pulled out his Glock and prepared to return fire but the shooting had stopped. He didn’t like sitting where they were, who knew if the shooter was changing position.
“We need to move.”
Lars agreed and they scrambled over to the next car, staying low. The very second they came out from the vehicle more gunfire erupted, this time a bullet struck Lars in the leg. He let out a loud cry and buckled. Sergio grasped and dragged him out of the gap between the vehicles.
“I’ve been hit,” he said, grasping his upper leg.
Sergio looked at it and shook his head before trying to peer through the car window to get a better idea of where their attackers were. Whoever it was they were going to pay for this. “Stay here.”
Lars grabbed his arm. “What? Don’t leave me here.”
“I’m not, you idiot. I need to find this guy otherwise we aren’t getting out of here.”
First he needed to see where the rounds were coming from. Because it was dark there was a chance he would see the flash from the muzzle but that meant exposing himself and potentially putting himself at risk.
There was no other option.
He darted out, while keeping his face to the east. He was sure that the rounds were coming from the apartment block just down from them but… Pop. Pop. Pop. Rounds lanced car windows, sending glass fragments over him. It was close but worth it. He spotted the flash of a muzzle three stories above. Right you bastard, you are mine! He instinctively checked the rounds in his gun and then darted out into the night to kill again.