“That was easy,” I said.
“You sound disappointed,” Jordan joked.
“Hey, I live for danger,” I quipped. Things were looking up, and I felt more at ease than I had in weeks.
“Do any of you know anything about this car?” Kyle asked. The men shook their heads.
“Any of you have experience working on other kinds of cars?” Again, they shook their heads.
“Don’t you know how to work on cars?” I asked Kyle.
“Well, yeah,” he said. “But it never hurts to have a little help.”
The rest of the men went back down the hall toward the dining room leaving me, Jordan, and Darrell to watch Kyle working on the car.
“It’s getting dark in here,” Kyle said, raising the hood. The skylights overhead had dimmed to a murky gray.
Darrell went to the workbench and picked up a shop light and extension cord. He plugged in the cord near the front of the car and hooked up the shop light. He hung it from the gridwork under the hood of the car and switched it on.
Kyle started examining the engine. I wandered back to the radio and tried to contact help on channel 9. As before, there was no response. Kyle joined me at the workbench and again started digging around through the boxes.
“Ah-ha!” he said. “This is exactly what I needed.” He picked up what looked like some kind of meter. He carried it over to the car, opened the driver side door and crouched down beside the front seat. He reached under the dashboard and plugged the meter in. He watched the display for a few seconds before getting up, moving to the workbench, and leaving through one of several thick, grimy books. He grinned. “Unbelievable luck,” he said.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It only needs a tune-up,” he explained. “I can fix this tonight,” and we can get back on the road first thing in the morning.”
Jordan and I were elated. If we were as close to the safe zone as we thought, we could get there tomorrow. Then, we could send help back to the truck stop and to the high school. It seemed too good to be true. In the safe zone, life would be normal again if it was possible to live a normal life after going through something like this. I wasn’t sure.
Kyle worked under the hood of the car for what felt like hours. Jordan, Darrell, and I stood around watching and making small talk. Eventually, Kyle got into the car and started it up. The engine sounded great. He turned it off, got out, and closed the hood. “All done,” he announced. We switched off the light, and we left the garage.
Back in the dining room, people were sitting and talking in the darkened room. Someone had lit several candles and placed them in jars on a table in the center of the dining area. The ensemble gave off a faint glow, but the light was bright enough to enable us to see our way across the room. Darrell took a seat beside his wife. Jordan, Kyle, and I sat near them. Outside, in the distance, we could hear the wailing beginning. Everyone continued talking. Some of the people seated around the various tables had begun playing cards. It was clear that everyone was doing the same thing – trying to ignore the sounds of the zombies. Darrell went over to the checkout counter and took another package of cards from a display. He brought them back to the table, opened them, and began shuffling them.
“Want to play Spades?” he asked, looking around at us.
“Why not?” Jordan answered.
“Count me in,” I said.
Kyle and Susan nodded in agreement, and Darrell started dealing out the cards. “Before we start,” Kyle said, glancing at his watch, “it’s time to check the radio again.” “I’ll go,” I volunteered.
“I should go too,” Kyle insisted. “Just in case the military is monitoring the channel,” he explained.
“There’s a flashlight by the cash register,” Darrell said, pointing toward the counter.
I picked up the flashlight and switched it on as Kyle and I walked the hallway back to the garage. From inside the work area, the wailing seemed louder. It made me nervous. Kyle picked up on my tension. “It’s just louder in here because there’s no insulation. There are only cinder block walls and a thin metal roof. It just lets the sound in.”
“Right,” I said. “Let’s just get this over with.”
We moved to the workbench and turned on the radio. Kyle picked up the microphone and pressed the key. “Break 9. Break 9. Anyone copy me?”
Suddenly, the static broke, and a woman’s voice came through the speakers. “Go ahead.
You’ve got the Meadowview Trauma Center. Over.” The voice made my heart pound in my chest.
“What’s your emergency?” the voice asked.
“We have approximately twenty-five people sheltering in a truck stop at Exit 29 off the interstate,” Kyle said. “Please advise on the status of any rescue or evacuation plans.”
“We’ve not been advised of any plans at this time,” the voice continued. “The trauma center is open, and we are seeing patients who can make it here.”
“What is the status of the virus outbreak?” Kyle asked, depressing the microphone key again.
“The virus is still active in the area. We’re seeing new cases daily.”
“As if there’s a treatment available,” I whispered to Kyle. “What are they doing about it?”
“Any word on a vaccine?” he asked.
“We received notice from the army depot that they’re close to a vaccine, but we don’t know when it will be available to us,” the voice continued.
Suddenly, a muffled yell sounded from the direction of the dining room. “Go see what’s wrong,” Kyle said, handing me the flashlight.
I ran back to the dining room and found a group huddled around Susan, who was sitting in a chair. She grimaced in pain and yelled out again. I shined the light on her and saw that her pants were wet, and a pool of fluid was forming on the floor beneath her chair. A group of zombies had gathered outside the building and were pressing their faces against the glass walls. Some were throwing themselves at the panes, leaving slimy ooze streaming down the windows.
Darrell looked at me with fear in his eyes. “The baby is coming,” he said. “We’ve got to do something.”
“Just stay calm,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
I ran back to the garage where Kyle was still talking on the CB. “We’ve got a problem,”
I told him. “Susan’s water just broke. She’s going into labor.”
“Stand by,” he said into the microphone. “We have a woman here about to give birth.
I’ll be back on in a minute.”
“Standing by,” the voice said.
Kyle and I ran back to the dining room, hearing Susan’s cries as we drew closer. Darrell was frantic when we got there.
“She’s bleeding now,” he shouted at us. “That can’t be normal.”
“How far is the Meadowview Trauma Center from here?” Kyle asked, looking around at the group gathered around. “It’s open.”
“Probably about ten miles,” one of the women answered. “Can you tell us how to get there, Darrell?” “Yes, I can,” he said.
“We can’t go out there at night,” Jordan said.
I gripped his shoulder and spoke into his ear. “Jordan, if she’s hemorrhaging, she could die. We’ve got to get her to the trauma center.”
Jordan looked apprehensively at the zombies pounding the glass walls. The windows shook with each impact.
“Get Susan into the station wagon,” Kyle instructed. “I’m going to get the radio.” He ran back to the garage while Darrell and I helped Susan to her feet. Even in the candlelight, I could see that she was turning pale.
One of the women came running up to us, holding a stack of towels. “We’ve been saving these for an emergency,” she said.
“Take the towels,” Jordan, “I told him.” He was still watching the zombies.
“I don’t like this,” he said.
“Come on,” I said. “Don’t lose your nerve.”
We carefully walked Susan down the hallway to t
he garage, followed by a small group. With one arm, I supported Susan. In the other, I held the flashlight so we could see our way down the hall. In the garage, Kyle was working fast, installing the CB in the station wagon, using the shop light to see. “She can lie down in the back,” I said. Jordan opened the back of the car. Darrell and I helped Susan into the bed of the Volvo where she could lie flat. She was breathing heavy.
Kyle finished installing the radio and retrieved his gun that he’d left standing against the wall. Darrell climbed into the back with his wife. Jordan handed him the towels. I carefully closed the rear door of the car behind them.
“Casey and Jordan,” Kyle said urgently, “Go get my backpack with the ammunition and some food and water.”
We dashed back to the dining room and returned with the bags. We tossed them into the back seat. Jordan got into the back, and we closed the doors. I climbed into the front passenger seat and switched off the flashlight while Kyle explained how to operate the mechanical garage door to the group that followed us to the garage.
“Push the green button,” he told them. “I’m going to drive through fast when the door is high enough. After we’re through the door, immediately hit the red button to bring it back down. You’ve got to do it fast before the zombies see what we’re doing.”
A man nodded and moved toward the door controls.
“If they get inside the garage, your best recourse is to run into the main building and barricade the door,” Kyle told them.
Kyle reached down on the floor and picked up a length of pipe that had been laying near the semi. He handed it to one of the women. A man in the group picked up a crowbar.
“The rest of you get back into the dining room and close the door.” They did as they were told. Kyle handed a wrench to the man at the door controls. “If anything tries to get in, kill it!” he said. “I’m going to take out this sensor so it won’t stop the door from coming back down if the zombies tried to get in.” He slammed his boot down onto the sensor, knocking it loose from its bracket. He removed the shop light from the front seat and handed it to the man with the crowbar.
Kyle got into the driver’s seat and started the car. He signaled to the man at the controls, who hit the green button. The door began to rise. At first, I saw nothing but blackness as the door opened. When the door was high enough, Kyle pulled forward. A group of zombies charged at the front and began rocking the car. We weren’t yet completely out of the garage. Kyle floored the accelerator, and the vehicle lunged forward. Some of the zombies fell under the wheels, making the car bounce as it rolled over their bodies. As the Volvo cleared the doorway, I looked back and saw one zombie crawl under the door. Several others were smashed by the door as it came down on them.
“One got in,” I said.
“It will be okay,” Kyle said. “They’re ready for it inside.”
For their sake, I hoped he was right. Susan yelled out in pain from the back of the Volvo. Darrell shouted for Kyle to take a right out of the parking lot and then to follow the road signs to the hospital. We drove through the concourse, picking up speed. A zombie was hanging onto the side of the car. Kyle steered close to a signpost and scraped the disgusting creature off. He made a hard right turn out of the lot, and we headed into the night.
“I should notify the trauma center that we’re coming,” I said, turning on the radio. I tuned to channel 9 and called out for a response.
“Go ahead,” the same woman’s voice said. “What’s your emergency?”
“We’re heading to the trauma center with a woman who is giving birth,” I said. “She’s bleeding.”
“What’s your estimated arrival time?” the voice asked.
“About ten minutes,” Kyle said, taking the microphone.
“Has the water broken?” the voice asked.
“Yes,” I responded, taking the microphone back.
“How far apart are the contractions?” the voice asked.
I turned around in my seat. “Darrell?” I asked. “How far apart are the contractions?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “It seems like they’re not stopping,” he answered with panic in his voice.
“We think they’re coming non-stop,” I said.
“Listen to me,” the voice continued. “You may have to deliver this baby en route.”
Hearing this, Kyle sped up. I told Jordan to switch places with me so I could climb into the back to help Darrell. I handed him the microphone and told him to relay information back and forth. As we sped down the highway, I climbed into the back with Darrell and Susan. With
Darrell’s size and his wife’s pregnant form, there wasn’t much room.
The radio blared again. “How much is she dilated?” Jordan relayed the question to the back. Darrell and I looked at each other briefly. This was going to be difficult. “We have to get her undressed from the waist down,” I said. “Susan, you’re going to have to lift yourself up, so we can get your pants off.”
Darrell helped her rise up, and I pulled her pants downward. Fortunately, they were maternity pants that slid off easily because of the stretchy fabric panel in the front. I felt sorry for Susan. No one deserved the indignity of giving birth under conditions like this.
“I’m scared,” she said, looking from me to Darrell. “Why am I bleeding? Something is wrong.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I assured her. “We’ll reach the trauma center soon.” I removed her underwear. “Jordan, bring me the flashlight,” I called to the front.
Jordan picked up the light and stretched across the seats to hand it to me. I switched it on. Masking my embarrassment, I shined the light between her legs. “Darrell,” I said. “She might feel more comfortable if you’re the one doing the checking.”
Darrell examined her. “I’d say the opening is about nine inches around,” he said. Jordan relayed the information into the radio.
“Okay,” the voice said. “Can you see the baby’s head in the birth canal?” Darrell looked again. “I think so,” he said.
Jordan again related the information into the radio. “Okay then,” the voice on the radio continued. “There’s no time. You’re going to have to proceed with the delivery.”
“How far from the hospital are we?” I yelled out to Kyle. “Not far, maybe another five minutes.”
The voice on the radio continued. “All right, she’s ready to start pushing. Has she taken a Lamaze class?”
“Yes,” Darrell said to Jordan, who relayed what he had said.
“Good,” the voice said. “Now instruct her to breathe the way she was taught in the class.”
“You remember, honey,” Darrell said. “Just like we practiced.”
Susan nodded, her face covered in sweat. She started breathing the rhythmic Lamaze way.
The voice began issuing orders again. “Now, when the contractions come, tell her to push as hard as she can.”
Darrell and I helped Susan position her legs to allow her more room to deliver the baby. Her body seized up as another contraction came.
“Push hard Susan!” I urged.
Susan’s face screwed up in agony. Darrell got down, watching for progress. He shined the flashlight to see.
“The baby is moving!” he cried.
“The baby is moving,” Jordan said into the microphone.
“You’re doing fine,” the voice said. “Just keep pushing when the contractions come.”
Another contraction came, and Susan cried out as she pushed again. After what seemed like an eternity, Darrell called out, “The baby’s head is coming out.”
Jordan spoke into the radio, and the voice advised us that this would be the most challenging part of the delivery. “Without any pain medication, this will be difficult, but she can do it,” the voice said. “Just tell her to keep pushing and push through the pain.”
I looked into Susan’s terrified face. “Okay Susan,” I said. “I know you know this will be the most difficult part, but you can get through this
. You’re going to need to push, even though it hurts.”
She nodded, looking both fearful and determined. Another contraction gripped her body, and she screamed as she pushed with fury. The contraction seemed to go on forever.
“I feel like I’m splitting apart!” she gasped. “This can’t be right!”
“Just keep pushing!” Darrell urged.
Susan pushed and groaned. Tears streamed down her face.
“The baby’s head is out,” Darrell cried.
Jordan informed the trauma center, and the voice continued instructions. “The baby’s shoulders and body will come out more easily now,” it said.
“Thank the Lord!” I said, relieved that the worst was over for her.
“Gently support the baby as the rest of the body comes out,” the voice instructed. The baby slid out into Darrell’s hands. It was a girl.
I looked toward the front of the car and saw lights ahead. “We’re here at the trauma center!” Jordan announced over the radio.
“Great!” the voice said, sounding pleased. “Drive up to the emergency entrance, and the guards will help you in.”
Kyle swung the car into the emergency entrance where five security guards stood with their guns drawn. A line of cars waited in a row, and patients were being loaded in and out. A woman wearing scrubs dashed out to the Volvo and opened the rear door. Two EMTs came forward with a gurney as the guards positioned themselves around the car, ready to fire on any zombies that might come. One of the EMTs withdrew a pair of surgical scissors and cut the baby’s umbilical cord. The woman ran inside with the baby as the EMTs positioned Susan onto the gurney. Darrell followed the gurney into the hospital. The guards told Kyle to move the car away from the emergency entrance, and he drove into a nearby parking place. They covered us as we got out of the car and ran inside to join Susan.
Viral Series (Book 1): Viral Dawn [Extended Edition] Page 21