Lacey shrugged. “Hell if I know.” he muttered angrily. The scrawny Marine glanced at the others then at the Wal-Mart. “Everybody was at the goddamn ballgame when the shit hit the fan.” He looked around for a moment. “Mind if I hang with you guys for a little bit?”
Frays could not help but wonder if the man was telling her the truth or not. He had abandoned his post in Boston after all… She shrugged. “Alright. C’mon, man.” Frays muttered and rose to a crouch. The lot of them moved off towards the Med Center with Lacey in tow. Frays reflected that it would be good to have somebody she could trust to keep an eye on things while she was busy inside. And, she had to admit, knowing where Lacey was meant one less thing she had to worry about.
They made their way to the Aid Station with little trouble. Frays called a halt a couple times as bullets whined over their heads but nobody seemed to be shooting at them. All in all things actually seemed to be dying down one way or the other. Once they were safely inside the wall surrounding the Aid Station Frays started barking orders. The trainees fanned out to cover the gate and take up positions inside the doors. “Stark, come on.” Frays ordered and the two of them went inside.
Frays could only stop and stare for a half moment at what was going on inside the waiting room. The chairs had all been shoved into one corner to clear a space to conduct triage. There were at least ten or fifteen people either on stretchers or sitting on the floor in varying states of disrepair. Some lay there quietly. Others moaned or screamed or cried. Daryl and Mike went amongst them passing out water or trying to tend to the wounded. Frays approached the night nurse and tapped him on the shoulder. “Where do you want us?”
“You two take over triage.” the black man half shouted over the noise the casualties were making. “We’ll be down the hall in the exam rooms.” He pointed towards the far end of the room closest to the hall that led to the exam and patient rooms. “Bring those guys down there first. We’ve got things pretty much caught up but just keep an eye on everybody.”
Frays nodded. “Where’s Doc Haskins?” she asked as she knelt beside the nearest stretcher and started to look the man lying there over. It looked to her like the casualty’s legs had been peppered with either shrapnel or buckshot. “She in the back?”
Daryl looked a little lost for a second. “Don’t worry about that right now.”
*********
Becca and Paulie sat with Miss Carver and the other kids in the corner of the Resettlement Center. The children huddled around the middle aged woman trembling as she tried to keep the kids concentrating on the copy of a Curious George book she was reading. The little ones clung to each other casting scared glances at the grownups rushing here and there around the place as they tried to secure the doors. There was gunfire and the occasional explosion outside.
The two Lacey children jumped to their feet when a gangly teenager with sandy blond hair and a pretty Latina in Marine cammies shoved their way past a couple of people and came up to the edge of the group of children. “Hey buddies!” Carl said softly as he knelt and put a hand on each of the children’s shoulders. He could tell that the little ones were scared out of their minds from all the confusion. “Don’t worry about a thing. Amy and your dad are gonna be alright. They’re making sure we’re all safe, okay?”
“Hi, ma’am.” Rodriguez said quietly as she approached the woman taking care of the children. She sighed heavily as she scratched at the scars on her cheek and looked around for a moment. Rodriguez was keenly aware of the fact that her weapons were locked up in the Aid Station and it was making her insides squirm. “I’m Specialist Rodriguez. I’m a friend of Paulie and Becca’s dad. That’s Sergeant Frays’ brother Carl. If it’s okay with you we’ll take the kids for a little while.” She leaned in closer and looked around conspiratorially. “I mean…no offense but I’d feel a lot better if we were keeping track of them.”
Miss Carver looked at the young woman scratching at the rough pinkish tissue on her face then over her shoulder at Becca and Paulie. The Lacey children were clinging to the teenage boy then Paulie peeled off and scampered up to Rodriguez. The little guy wrapped his arms around her wounded leg and squeezed so hard that her eyes widened for a moment before bending down and picking him up. The older woman made a thoughtful face for a moment. Word had gotten around that this Rodriguez woman was…a little unstable. Plus her clothes reeked of marijuana smoke for some reason.
“You smell funny.” Paulie said as he buried his face into Frannie’s neck. He had not seen her in days and days and he missed her a whole bunch. Frannie always gave the best hugs. “Are you gonna take us to see Daddy?”
Rodriguez looked imploringly at the woman then kissed Paulie on the cheek. “No, buddy. We gotta stay here for right now. Don’t worry though. Your daddy will be right here as quick as he can.” she told the boy and held him tight. There was a slight twinge deep down inside. There was still that little matter to discuss with Carl at some point…
There was a sound that Rodriguez instantly recognized as a muffled explosion outside. Thankfully the vestiges of the cloud of pot smoke she was floating on kept her from going into full meltdown mode but Paulie’s grip tightened around her neck and the boy pressed his head into her cheek. “It’s alright, buddy.” she whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek. Rodriguez speared the babysitter with a hard look as she kept a tight grip on the boy and bounced him a little bit.
Carl and Rodriguez were in the Frays’ little cubical a few moments later trying and failing to keep the children’s minds off the sporadic gunfire outside. It did not help that the two grownups kept exchanging worried glances. Lacey and Frays were both still out there somewhere. Frays was only just recently on her feet after…everything that had happened to her. She should not be running around out there…
There was a lot of shouting and a loud crash. Carl and Rodriguez were instantly on their feet and scooping up the kids. There was more shouting and gunfire this time from what sounded like right inside the Resettlement Center. Rodriguez tried to smile a little bit at Carl who looked like he was about to piss his pants. “Don’t worry guys.” she said as she buried her face in Becca’s hair for a moment and squeezed the little girl tight. “It’ll be alright.”
Now the civilians crowded into the building started screaming and there was another loud crash along with stuff breaking near what Rodriguez guessed to be the main entrance. A bunch of people rushed down the makeshift hallway outside… Rodriguez turned so that the child in her arms would not be able to see then gently brushed aside the curtain. Dozens of people hurried by shouting and a few of them were pulling people that were not running fast enough. Where they were running Rodriguez had no idea. There were no exits that way…
All of a sudden the wall fell in on them. Rodriguez lay on the ground dazed as a sharp pain drove the air out of her lungs. It took her a moment to figure out that people were probably stepping on the debris on top of her. Becca! Oh God! Becca! That thought cut through the cobwebs like a hot razorblade through warm butter. There was something small and squirming underneath her. Apparently she had the presence of mind to shield the child in the split second before the drywall and lumber decided to knock them to the floor. She tried to push herself up but there seemed to be too much stuff on top of them. Rodriguez screamed when someone else stomped across the pile of shit. A sudden helpless white hot rage filled her, the woman’s mind flashing to a bright sunny day on the other side of the world. The fuckin’ Hajjis had set off a goddamn motherfuckin’ bomb outside this school and the kids were screaming the little girl sitting on the curb crying with her eye hanging out of its socket…
Somebody pulled the debris off them and Rodriguez sprung to her feet her hands locking around the throat of the first person she could reach. “FUCK YOU, HAJJI!” she screeched squeezing tighter the fucking child killing piece of shit beating weakly at her head and arms, his thumb glancing off her cheek as it narrowly missed her eye. Rodriguez bore down even harder the tendons standin
g out on her neck as she tightened her grip. “FUCK YOU! FUCKIN’ DIE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”
The sound of a child’s voice screaming her name snapped her out of it. She was straddling Carl with her hands around his throat. She looked around for a few moments and tears started forming at the corners of her eyes. Carl coughed and tried to catch his breath as she still straddled the younger man absently wiping her hands on her top. Paulie tugged on her sleeve, the little boy screaming along with the dozens of other people in the Resettlement Center.
Rodriguez rolled off of him and sat on the pile of debris that used to be the cubicle. She swallowed hard she sat there staring at her shaking hands, the screams and panic of the people running around like chickens with their heads cut off falling away down a long dark hole. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and swallowed air again. Somebody hooked a hand under her arm and hauled her to her feet.
Paulie followed Carl and Frannie as he held his sister’s hand. Everybody was scared and running around. More than anything else he was scared by the way Frannie had been yelling at Carl while she had his hands around his neck. He knew Frannie used bad words sometimes but she looked all crazy while she was yelling and choking Carl…
Carl struggled towards the nearest emergency exit with Frannie’s arm over his shoulder and trying to keep a hold of the kids’ hands. Somebody plowed into him knocking him to the ground. Frannie grunted and a rush of panic flooded his system when he realized that he lost his grip on Paulie’s hand. “PAULIE!!” he shouted his voice like broken glass in his throat as he rolled onto his back, sat up and looked around. The two little ones were nowhere to be found. Carl scrambled to his knees, his breath coming in big panicky gasps. “BECCA!!”
Rodriguez sat up and looked guilty at Carl. She shuddered her hands aching from squeezing the shit out of her boyfriend’s neck. “I…” The woman started then wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Where the hell are Paulie and Becca?!” Carl asked as he leapt up and looked around. He reached down and grabbed Frannie pulling the woman to her feet. He coughed and tried to clear his throat. Frannie looked like she was going to start crying. He held her tight for a moment and kissed her cheek. “C’mon, Frannie. We gotta find the kids!”
The place was quickly turning into what Carl had always imagined Hell might look like. The dozens of people running around inside the enclosed building were tearing the place apart. A few of the Marines inside started firing only adding to the chaos. He tripped over what he thought was a piece of lumber at first until he looked back and saw that it was somebody’s leg. The older guy had apparently been knocked over in the confusion and people had stomped on him trying to get away.
Frannie was little to no help. She seemed really out if it after losing her shit and attacking him. She followed after him and barely seemed to take much notice of anything at all even the bullet that whizzed by her head and struck a woman behind her. A short stocky guy with grey hair in a Chicago Bulls tee shirt had an M4 in his hands and was firing randomly into the screaming masses. It took him a moment to realize that he was screaming too.
There was a different sounding shot and the guy crumpled to the ground. A Marine stood over the body and kicked the rifle out of the wounded man’s grasp while pointing a pistol at him. A woman came out of nowhere with some sort of a knife in her hands and stabbed the Marine in the throat sending a spray of bright red arterial blood spurting through the air.
Carl scrambled for the carbine a few feet away, snatched it up and fired three quick shots at the woman who had just murdered the Marine. The woman fell backwards and Carl scrambled to his feet to check on the Marine. “Holy fuckin’ shit…” the young man whispered. It looked like the woman had practically cut the guy’s head right off with the box cutter she still clutched in her hand. “Holy fuckin’ shit…”
He grabbed up the pistol out of the man’s hand and made a quick search of the dead Marine’s plate carrier. There were a couple magazines for the M4 and what looked like one for the pistol too along with, miraculously, a grenade of all things. Carl stuffed his finds into his pockets and shoved the pistol into the waistband of his jeans.
After a moment’s thought he handed the carbine and the two magazines for it to Frannie. True, she had just tried to kill him but on the other hand it would look less out of place if she had the M4 in her hands. A new and terrifying smell filled Carl’s nostrils: smoke.
Great billowing clouds of thick black smoke reached across the crowded Resettlement Area. If Carl thought the people inside were panicked before he was sorely mistaken. There was a deafening explosion and fresh screams. He spared a glance over his shoulder at Frannie. “Are you okay?” he asked loudly.
Rodriguez looked pale but she swallowed hard and put a brave face. “Yeah…yeah, I’m back.” She muttered with a nod as she tightened her hand around the M4’s pistol grip almost like a little kid clutching a security blanket. Rodriguez looked around and listened, hoping to hear the sound of Paulie or Becca’s voices in the confusing babble of screams and shouts. “C’mon, man! PAULIE! BECCA! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS!?”
A few people started trying to put out the fire licking at another collapsed living areas on the far side of the building from them. Rodriguez stood on her tiptoes for a moment trying in vain to see over the crowd. Somebody tackled her to the ground sending the carbine flying from her grasp and someone grabbed her shoulder hard enough to make her wince. Unthinking she threw an elbow connecting with some meaty part of whoever was on top of her. This bought her enough space to wriggle free of the hand on her shoulder.
The woman scrambled for the carbine a few scant inches away and grabbed it rolling onto her back and bringing the barrel of the M4 up as her attacker pounced. A drooling pallid face appeared over her like some kind of slavering idiot moon, hands clasped around the carbine that she managed to shield herself with. Rodriguez screamed and rocked from side to side as she squirmed and suddenly popped her hips upwards sending the creature rolling off of her. Rodriguez scrambled to her feet and ended the fight with three sharp blows to the creature’s skull with the butt of her carbine.
Carl stood there shaking and pointing an M9 at the splattered remains of the creature’s head. He looked shamefully at his girlfriend and slowly started to lower the weapon. Rodriguez went to him and put a hand on his arm. “C’mon, man!” she shouted over the din.
The flames were getting worse and there was so much smoke that it was getting hard to breathe. Running around in circles while the place burned down around them did not seem like much of a plan… Carl fingered the grenade in his pocket as he and Frannie tried to make their way towards the press of people at the main door. Someone had locked the sliding glass doors that had corrugated steel welded over the heavy shatter resistant glass.
“Carl!” Rodriguez shouted as she tugged on his arm trying to pull him away from the swarm of people all pushing and shoving trying to get out through the secured main doors. “This way!” There was a small fire exit near the latrines. She had to reflect that her PTSD had come in handy for once: since her medication started running out she could not sleep unless she knew where every single way in or out of the place was and how clear it was.
There were a few people clustered around the metal fire exit door, all of them beating on it furiously. Someone had chained the door shut. “Hang on! Out of the way!” Carl shouted as he pulled the grenade out of his pocket. “Everybody get back! Get back!”
When he got there Carl spotted immediately why nobody could get out: there was a heavy chain looped several times around the crash bar door handle and threaded through a giant eye bolt mounted into the wall. There were a few big cracks in the drywall from where the others had been beating on the door. Fuck this happy horseshit! Carl thought as he rested the grenade on the crash bar and put his index finger through the pin. “GET THE FUCK BACK!”
There was an earsplitting explosion as the grenade blew sending the metal fire door flying of
f its hinges where it came to a rest with a clatter in the parking lot some seventy meters from the building. The whole thing was a confused jumble of people rushing towards the gaping hole in the side of the building where the door used to be.
On the other side of the compound Frays stood over the five casualties strapped down to stretchers. Her throat made a dry clicking sound when she swallowed and did her best to hide the anxiety rolling around like a couple wet Mastiffs fighting over a bone in her belly. The sight of the three men and two women tied down at her feet kept looking like the corpses on the floor of the holding cells. The little boy screamed in her ear, the poor little guy scared to death by the stranger in a gas mask pulling him out of his mother’s arms… “Get another pair of hands and take them outside.” she ordered, sparing a glance at the younger woman standing next to her. “Tell Pittman to keep an eye on them. When the time comes tell him to come get me. I…I’ll take care of it.”
Frays sank into one of the chairs scattered around the lobby. Whatever was going on the worst of it seemed to be over for now. There had been a few scattered gunshots and a grenade going off a few minutes ago but other than that it had been quiet. Hopefully there would not be any more casualties to deal with. Something told her that she would have trouble sleeping again tonight. She hoped that Stark did not hear the little tremor in her voice… Frays ran a hand over her face and sucked warm water out of her Camelbak. Her uniform was stiff and scratchy with dried sweat and…was that blood? She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and tried to take deep breaths…
Lacey walked over and sat down next to her. He sneaked a glance around to make sure they were alone then put his hand over Frays’ and gave it a gentle squeeze. She smiled at him and held his hand. The man smiled back and, for the briefest of seconds, thought about stealing a kiss from her then dismissed the idea. She looked a little pale and shaky and he could not help but feel a little twinge of fear for her given what she had been through in the past couple weeks. Was she hemorrhaging again? He thought about running to get Daryl or one of the other medics just in case…
Outbreak: Long Road Back Page 15