by Gayle Katz
I touch Chris’s arm and point.
“Stay calm.”
“Calm?”
“Yeah. Stay cool. I guess the medication isn’t working. We gotta strap him down and get some sports drink and real food inside of him.”
“Uhh. OK, but how?”
“I’ll run up and push him back with the bat. You grab your lucky duct tape so we can tie him down. You still have your lucky duct tape, right?”
“Yeah. It’s in my vanity, but what about these zombies?”
“These guys down here shouldn’t pose a problem for us right now. They’re just crawlers. We’ll come back to them in a bit. Let’s deal with Jack, OK? When I push him back into the bedroom, go get your lucky duct tape,” Chris instructs as he runs toward Jack, bat in hand. One hand on the grip and one hand on the barrel, Chris manages to push Jack back into the bedroom and onto the bed.
I run to my vanity and open the top drawer. “Got it!”
“Hurry! Tape his legs to the bed. Wrap the tape around the whole bed if you can.” Chris is kneeling on Jack’s chest and straddling him in order to temporarily restrain his movements.
“Done. What’s next?”
“I’m gonna pull the bat away. Try to tape his mouth shut.”
Chris removes the bat giving Jack the opportunity to make horrible moaning noises. Jack is also trying to chomp down on anything within reach, but thankfully is only getting air. I have to use multiple pieces of tape, but I manage to seal his mouth shut. Chris takes the tape from me and secures Jack’s chest to the bed.
“Lemme try injecting him again.”
“You’ve given him two shots already. That’s not really working. Maybe the sports drink and food would be a better option?”
“OK. We’ll try it your way. Now that we’ve got him restrained we can remove the tape from his mouth and pour some sports drink in there. It’s worth a shot.”
Chris grabs a bottle from his bag and hands it to me.
“You pour. I’ll hold his head as still as possible.”
I tear off the tape from Jack’s mouth and Chris is doing his best to tilt his head up while keeping him still. I twist off the bottle cap and pour a little into Jack’s mouth. I can’t tell if he’s drinking or not. All I know is that he hasn’t spit any of it up yet.
“Pour some more.”
“I don’t want him to choke.”
“Pour!”
“OK.”
“He seems to be calming down now.”
“I hope he’s OK. Thank you for not hurting him.”
“No problem. Jack’s a good guy. Let’s let the sports drink do its thing. In the meantime, let’s take care of the ones downstairs,” Chris carefully puts Jack’s head down on the pillow. I replace the duct tape and stare into his eyes, hoping to see the real Jack again soon.
“Sounds good,” I pant as I see Rocky pacing back and forth in the hallway.
“You sure you’re up for this?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be fine and clearly Rocky is ready to give ’em hell.”
“OK. Let’s go and kick some zombie ass!”
Chris and I exit the bedroom, baseball bats in hand, and head down the stairs, with Rocky leading the pack. In case we need it, I’m wearing my lucky roll of duct tape as a bracelet for easy access. As we approach the bottom third of the stairs, we see the zombies are still crawling on the floor.
“Ew. That smell again. You’d think I’d get used to it at some point.”
“I hope we never do.”
“What should we do? Bash their heads in lickety split? Or maybe we could incapacitate them and inject them with the inoculant?”
“Hmmmm. That might be an interesting experiment.”
“And I’d feel a whole lot better if we try to help them.”
“In order to do that, we’re gonna need to get behind each one, tape their mouths, and secure their wrists and ankles together. And If I’m restraining one of them, you gotta wrap ’em up quickly or else one of the others could become a problem.”
“Got it. Let’s give it a try.”
Chris nods. We approach the first crawler. I get in front to attract its attention and Chris comes up behind it. He grabs its legs and holds them up, preventing the zombie from moving forward.
“Tie the legs!” I run to Chris and tie the first zombie’s legs together.
“Done!” Once its legs are secured, it starts to crawl forward. Rocky jumps into action, clamps down on the zombie’s hand, and thrashes it back and forth. Chris pulls the zombie by the legs and slides it on the floor to disorient it even more.
“Now the arms!” He grabs the zombie’s arms and then hyperextends them above its head, making it almost impossible for it to bite him and a bit easier for me to bind them together.
“Got it!” I say as the first zombie is pretty much immobilized.
Now that it can’t move, Chris lets go of its arms and puts one hand on top of the zombie’s head and his other hand on its chin. He’s doing his best to vice grip its mouth shut so I can tape it closed.
“Go!”
I tear off a long piece of the duct tape and wrap it completely around the zombie’s head. The last thing we need is him moaning for reinforcements.
“There. I did it!”
“Good. Now lemme grab a shot and inject him.”
“Who knows, right? Maybe we can save him.”
“Excellent. Now we just need to do that two more times.”
I exhale and sigh.
***
After tying up the last of the crawlers and injecting each of them with the inoculant, we barricade the doors and windows with broken pieces of furniture and hightail it back upstairs to check on Jack.
“Please be OK. Please be OK,” I whisper under my breath.
I hesitate briefly before opening the bedroom door, nervous as to what we might find on the other side.
“What’s wrong? Besides the obvious,” Chris asks.
“Just taking a moment to prepare myself.”
We open the bedroom door and see Jack on the bed. Rocky jumps on the bed. We walk closer and deduce that he’s either unconscious or asleep.
“At least he’s not trying to eat us. That’s a step in the right direction,” I say, trying to find the silver lining.
“You’re setting the bar pretty low there alright.”
I touch Jack with the tip of my finger hoping he’ll wake up. Nothing. I use my whole hand and nudge his shoulder. His eyelids flutter a bit and then he opens his eyes.
“Jack?”
He makes some noise. It’s more like a waking up groan rather than a zombie moan. I remove the duct tape from his mouth.
“Jane? What happened?”
“I guess the medication knocked you out, but no worries. How are you feeling?”
“A bit better. I’m starving though.”
I look over at Chris.
“Let’s cut him outta those restraints and get some food inside of him. It seems like the sports drink worked. Maybe some actual food will help too.”
Chris slices Jack out of his duct tape prison and divvies out the food.
Starving, I bite into my burger and break off a piece for Rocky. He must be starving too. “Mmm. Tastes good. Thanks for doing this, Chris. We really appreciate it.”
“It’s the least I can do for friends,” Chris bites into his burger. We both watch as Jack scarfs down his food like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. He’s so ravenous he doesn’t even bother to remove the duct tape still dangling from his arms and legs.
“It’s good to see you still have an appetite.”
Before Jack can digest the burger, it comes back up with a guttural, gagging sound. Jack tries to make it to bathroom, but cannot. He collapses on the floor and throws up on the carpet. The little bites of burger he consumed are clearly visible along with his stomach acid.
Chris and I stare at Jack, trying to figure out how to help him.
“Can you help me back to the bed?” Jack
pleads. “I don’t feel so good.”
Both Chris and I get up quickly to help him. He still feels so sweaty and hot. It’s not the cold feeling I felt based on prior experiences. This sickness is different.
“His body temperature is all over the place. First he was cold, now he’s burning up.”
Chris just stands there watching Jack suffer.
“I hope his body isn’t rejecting the food. That wouldn’t be good,” I continue to ramble.
“I’m no doctor, “ Chris says, “but he looks like he’s getting worse.”
“Yeah. I notice that too. Maybe the food was too heavy for him. Let’s get some more of the sports drink inside of him. Maybe some crackers too? We need to keep his body flush with fluids plus the crackers may help soak up some of that caustic acid tearing his stomach apart.”
I run downstairs into the kitchen to grab the box of crackers. When I return, Chris already has Jack sipping some of the sports drink.
“It’s almost time to go.”
“What about Jack?”
“What about him?”
“Are we just going to leave him here like this?”
“We won’t be gone long and he has Rocky here to protect him.”
“I’ll be fine,” Jack interrupts. “Go and do what you have to do. I won’t leave the house or this room. I promise,” Jack grabs my hand to reassure me that he’ll be fine.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Chris needs your help. Hell, the world needs your help. If this plague is spreading, maybe you two can stop it before it gets even more out of control and claims more innocent lives.”
“I hope so,” I say with extreme reluctance as I slip on the scrubs Chris brought.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter 3
________________________________________
Thirty minutes later, Chris and I are parked and sitting in his car outside of the main hospital entrance. He hands me a tiny ear bud communication device and a thin, almost invisible cord.
“Take the small ear piece and put it in your ear. Make sure it’s snug.”
“OK,” I put it in my ear. “This feels odd.”
“You’ll get used to it. You might have to push it into your ear now and then. As you’re walking and moving around, it can come loose. Use your finger and push it back it, but don’t be obvious about it. Pretend you have an itch in your ear.”
“And what’s this wire for?”
“The wire goes underneath your clothes and connects wirelessly to your cell phone. That’s how we’ll communicate.”
“Are you sure no one will catch on? I don’t want to get caught.”
“No one will and you won’t unless you get careless like constantly holding the ear bud with your finger or talking to your sleeve like they do in the movies. Remember that you don’t have to talk directly into the microphone. As long as our call is connected, you can just talk and I’ll hear everything. The microphone is pretty sensitive. Let’s practice.”
Chris puts his ear bud in and loops his microphone wire around his neck and tucks it under his clothes. Once he’s good to go, he takes out his cell phone and calls mine. It rings. Loud.
I answer the phone and put it to my head.
“You don’t need to do that. Just answer it as you normally would and then click the button to black out the screen. Then slip it in your pocket. That’s all,” Chris instructs.
I do what he says.
“Now talk to me.”
“Hello? Chris?”
“Yes. I can hear you in my earpiece. How about me? Can you hear me?”
“Yeah. I can hear you. That’s pretty cool. Except for moving my lips, no one would know I’m on the phone.”
“Well, unless you’re in an actual conversation with someone, try not to talk to me while someone else is looking at you. You’ll get used to it.”
“I’ll take your word for it. OK. Now what’s the plan?”
“Here’s a badge that’ll get you into the hospital. When you clock in, ask someone where the records room is. If they look at you funny, just tell them it’s your first night shift and you’re not sure where you’re going. Most people will stop being suspicious and try to help you.”
“What if someone else is already at the records room? What then?”
“Do whatever you can to get rid of them. Cry. Tell them you need this job. You’ll figure out something.”
“Uhh.”
“Don’t worry. While it’s not a good idea for us to go in together, I’ll be right behind you by a couple of minutes. If someone’s becoming a problem and not working out, I’ll walk by in my lab coat and intimidate them. We got this,” he says as he grabs the lab coat from the backseat.
“OK,” I take a big breath before I get out of the car. “Here I go.”
Before I close the door, Chris tries to boost by confidence. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right on your tail. Don’t worry.”
As I walk to the hospital entrance in the darkness, I feel my knees weaken. The bright lights from the hospital are so powerful. My vision takes a moment to acclimate. I walk through the sliding glass doors, inhale deeply, and exhale to calm my nerves.
“You’ll be fine. Just relax and smile,” Chris says. I can hear him in my ear. It’s like he’s right next to me.
“Mmm-hmm.”
Once inside, I have no idea which way to go. The hospital smells weird. I can’t quite place the scent, but I’m wishing the ear buds were up my nose instead of in my ears. To my right, I see a rather unkempt young man reading a car magazine. I go over and greet him.
“Hi there. Can you help me find the records room?”
“Why do you need the records room?” he barks.
“It’s my first night shift here and I’m not sure where to go.”
“I don’t recognize you. I’m gonna have to call and confirm.”
“Uhh. Please don’t. It’s late and he won’t be happy. My boss, I mean. I don’t want to get fired my first day on the job. I really need it. You understand, don’t you?”
“See. I knew you’d be good at this,” I hear Chris in my ear.
“Sure. I get it. My boss is a pain in the ass too. You said the records room, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Continue down this hallway, walk a few more feet until you get to the stairs, go down two flights, and then you’ll see signs guiding you from there. You might need to use your badge, but I’ll buzz you in here. Good luck on your first night.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
I take my leave of the unshaven, front desk guy and start my journey down the corridor. Long hallways are pretty eerie at night and stairwells aren’t much better. They have a creepy, someone is going to murder me atmosphere to them. Bad thoughts out. Good thoughts in. My imagination might be getting the best of me. Concentrate on the task at hand, Jane.
“Gotta focus. Gotta focus,” I mumble to myself.
“You OK?” I hear Chris again in my ear.
“Yeah. I think so.”
“You’re doing great. Don’t worry. I’ll be there soon. Just keep it together until them.”
“Uh-huh.”
I go down the two flights of stairs, keeping my eyes peeled for anything or anyone odd, and open the door to the main floor area. Right in front of me is a sign posted on the painted white cinder block wall. The arrow points right for the records room. The other arrow points left for a restricted patient area. It seems strange and quite inconvenient to have it all the way down here. I wonder what’s behind the door.
I can’t think about that now. I turn right, head for the records room, peer through the small window on the door, and see a young man at the desk. Chill out. Just relax. Right now I need to focus on how I’m going to get him to leave without raising suspicion. I open the door, walk up to the desk, and come face-to-face with a guy reading a comic book.
“Hi,” I open the conversation.
“How can I
help you?” he sits up straight and quickly hides his comic underneath random paperwork.
“I think we have a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m supposed to be manning the records office desk tonight. At least that’s what my boss told me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I guess there was a change in the schedule.”
“No one told me.”
“Listen. This is supposed to be my first night shift. If I don’t do it, my head is going to roll. And besides, you don’t want to be here anyway, right? Who would?”
“Yeah. But...“
“But nothing. I’m sure you have better things to do. If you don’t, I can give you something better to do,” I wink at him and give him the best smile I can muster.
I feel like I can hear the clerk’s brain weighing the pros and cons of leaving his post. I hope I’m convincing enough. Just as the silence begins to turn awkward, Chris walks through the doors. He startles me as well as the guy behind the desk.
“What’s going on here? Why haven’t you begun your shift?” he looks at me.
I’m speechless for a moment.
“I—I’m sorry, Sir. It seems there’s a mix up and... I’m sorry,” I manage to say. I turn to the clerk on duty, “What’s your name again?”
“Phil.”
“Thanks. Phil says it’s his turn to man the desk. What should we do?”
“Your shift is over, Phil. Get some rest. Jane here will take over now.”
Phil just stands there.
“Is everything OK, son? You look like you could use forty winks. Did you hear what I just said? You’re off duty now. Go!”
Without further discussion, Phil grabs his stuff. As he heads out the door, he turns to me and says, “Maybe we can get together later?”
Once gone, Chris nods at me.
“Good job. Now just keep watch. I’ll be in the back. If anything happens, let me know. In the meantime, pretend that you work here.”
“Sure. Just don’t be long. I’m not sure how long our ruse will last plus I wanna get back to Jack.”
“I promise to be quick about it,” Chris pats me on the shoulder and heads into the records room to search for something, anything to help point us in the right direction.