by Chesla, Gary
At least twenty MPs were sitting on the grass, propped up against the side of the building as their wounds were being treated by the doctor.
It appeared many of them had suffered severe wounds over large areas of their bodies.
Chervy looked at two groups of MPs, trying to hold down patients they had managed to tackle, sitting on the patients arms and legs to keep them restrained.
Even though the patients were unable to get up or move their arms or legs, they continued to swing their heads from side to side, growling and moaning as they continued trying to bite the MPs that were holding them down.
As Chervy listened, he realized that the sounds the patients were making sounded more like the sounds of wounded or crazed animals than human voices.
The wounded MPs lying on the ground and on the grass also moaned, but their sounds were the sounds injured soldiers made when they were in pain.
By the time Chervy reached the frantic scene in front of the infirmary, the MP’s had managed to get all thirty or so patients pinned to the ground.
However, there were at least another thirty wounded MPs lying on the ground that would need to be admitted to the infirmary for extensive treatment.
As Chervy looked around, it became apparent that there were only one or two of the MPs that had escaped without any injuries.
“How the hell could these sick men do something like this to all these MPs?” Chervy thought. He had seen the MPs in action down at Charlie’s Bar. They were all mostly large men and not anyone that you would want to mess with.
He walked slowly up to the first group of MPs.
The large MP sitting on a struggling patient’s legs shouted, out towards the doctor.
“Doc, can you give this guy a shot or something,” he gasped. “He won’t stop trying to bite us. My God, where the hell did he get all this energy? He hasn’t stopped for a second since we grabbed him. I don’t know much longer I can hold him.”
The doctor ran over and examined the patient.
“Can you immobilize his head for me for a second?” the doctor asked.
The two men kneeling on the patient’s arms tried to grab the man’s head, but the man sitting on the patient’s left arm cried out in pain when the patient’s teeth sunk into his wrist.
The doctor grabbed the thrashing patient’s head and helped force the patient’s jaw open to free the MP’s hand.
With the help of the two men, the doctor examined the patient’s face, eyes and mouth.
Then the doctor sat back and stared in disbelief.
“Well Doc, can you give him something?” the MP asked again. “Like I said, I don’t think we can hold him much longer. I’m trying not to hurt the bastard, but soon it’s going to be him or me.”
The doctor stood, turned and looked around at the patients the other groups of MPs were struggling to hold down.
“It won’t do any good,” the doctor finally said.
“Why the hell not?” the MP shouted back, trying to keep his grip on the man’s legs.
“Because nothing I can give him will have any effect on a dead man,” the doctor replied.
“Come on Doc, quit screwing with us and give him something,” the big MP said.
The doctor looked at the MP.
“Instruct your men to tie all these people up securely,” the doctor said. “Gag or muzzle them so they don’t bite anyone else and take them over to the brig and secure them there. Post a few men to keep an eye on them until I have a chance to do a more thorough examination.”
“Are you sure, Doc?” the MP asked, looking questioningly at the doctor. “That’s a hell of a way to treat your patients. I admit I was tempted to shoot a few of them, but they are our men and they are sick or something.”
“They’re not our men anymore,” Doc replied as he looked at the MP. “Look at their eyes, they are all white. Feel their skin, they are as cold as a corpse. There isn’t any heartbeat, no pulse, they aren’t breathing.”
The doctor pulled a syringe out of his pocket, bent down and stuck it in the flailing patients arm. The man didn’t give any indication that he had felt a thing.
The doctor continued to look at the MP.
“They don’t feel any pain and that odor in the air is the smell of rotting flesh,” the doctor said. “They are dead by any medical definition you want to use. I don’t know why they are still moving and doing what they are doing, all I know is that they are. I can’t heal the dead. Have your men secure these people and then have your men report to me so I can treat them before their wounds become infected. Just do it soldier.”
“Yes Sir,” the MP replied then called out to his men, “Secure them and carry them over to the brig like the doctor said.”
As the doctor went from patient to patient, he nodded to the MPs restraining them and the MPs began to tie up the struggling men and carry them away.
Chervy walked up to the doctor.
“What happened Doc?” Chervy asked.
“It has to be the mutated Russian biological agent,” the doctor replied softly. “Not only is it driving the brain insane, it is killing the body and turning the men into some kind of zombies. It’s all fucking unbelievable.”
“Shit Doc,” Chervy said.
He followed the doctor over to the door to the infirmary and looked inside.
He saw the bodies of the nurses and orderlies, scattered across the floor of the infirmary.
“The patients did this?” Chervy asked.
The doctor nodded, “I went back to my office to take doctor Anderson’s call. That’s when it all started.”
“Is this happening in St Louis too?” Chervy asked.
“There was no one on the phone when I reached my office, but I have to assume this is what doctor Anderson was calling me about,” Doc replied. “He was probably calling to warn me, but he was either killed or had to run for his life before I got to the phone.”
“I hope he is OK,” Chervy said. “What are you going to do with……are they really dead?”
“They’re dead,” Doc replied. “I know it is hard to comprehend, but their bodies are dead. I don’t know what state their brains are in, but without the heart pumping or the lungs breathing, there is no way the brain can be alive. Until I can do an autopsy on those people…..God that sounds screwed up, doing an autopsy on a moving body. I won’t know what all that damn virus did to them.”
Chervy thought for a moment.
“Doc, do you think it is over now?”
“I doubt it,” Doc replied. “The biological agent came down over a large part of the country. What happened here today could be happening all over the country. It could take months to deal with this, providing that there aren’t any side effects that we aren’t aware of yet, and there are always unexpected side effects.”
“Should we be wearing gas masks or something?” Chervy asked. “Davis and Rogers were asking me about that and I was going to call and ask you about it before the sirens went off.”
“No,” Doc replied. “It’s too late now for gas masks. The agent has already been released. If you haven’t been affected by now, you are probably safe. Besides, I don’t think the gas masks we have would have been effective against this agent.”
The doctor sighed as he looked the infirmary over.
“Just stay inside as much as possible and keep your eyes open,” the doctor said as the wounded and bleeding MPs began to return, making their way to the infirmary to be treated for their injuries.
“Bring your friends inside,” the Doc said pointing to the MPs that were lying on the grass next to the building, “and let me take a look at you.”
Chapter 11
Saturday, May 8th. The cabin
Mike heard the sound of a beer tab popping as he began to wake up.
His hands quickly went to his head.
“Damn, my head is thumping like a damn drum,” Mike said as he slowly sat up and let his legs dangle down over the side of the top bunk.
&
nbsp; “You really tied one on last night,” Ryan laughed. “Tony and I had a hell of a time getting you up on your bunk.”
Mike looked around, then looked at his watch, it was almost 1:00 PM in the afternoon.
Then he noticed Ryan standing next to the bunk bed looking at him.
“Here, drink this,” Ryan said.
“What’s that?” Mike asked.
“A little hair of the dog that bit you,” Ryan laughed.
Mike reached out his hand and felt the cold wet can touch against his hand.
He grasped the can and brought the can to his forehead and sighed as the cool can helped ease the pain in his head.
“You’re supposed to drink it,” Ryan said.
“In time,” Mike groaned.
“Get yourself together,” Ryan laughed again, “as soon as Tony gets back from the outhouse, we want a chance to win back some of our money.”
“I won last night?” Mike asked, now holding the can over his eyes.
“Don’t asked me how,” Ryan replied. “It had to be dumb luck but you really kicked our asses.”
Mike forced a painful grin, “It’s good to know something good came out of last night.”
Tony came back into the cabin and loudly closed the door.
Mike winched as the sound of the door slamming reverberated through his head.
“Look who is still alive,” Tony laughed then added as he looked at Ryan, “by the way your bear is back.”
Ryan said, “Oh shit!” and ran over and looked out the window as Tony burst out laughing.
“You son of a bitch,” Ryan laughed.
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” Tony laughed. “You should have seen the look on your face.”
Tony looked over at Mike.
“It looks like you should live,” Tony said.
“I’m glad you think so,” Mike groaned. “If I can get down from here without breaking my neck, then maybe I’ll agree with you.”
“Why don’t you drink that damn beer instead of holding it to your head, trust me, it will help.”
Mike nodded, popped the tab and took a long drink.
“Feel better now?” Tony joked.
“I think I’d feel a lot better if I had something to eat,” Mike groaned.
“Well, we had sausage and eggs for breakfast,” Ryan said, “But you managed to sleep through breakfast.”
“What’s for lunch?” Mike asked.
“Whatever you make,” Tony replied. “I made dinner last night, Ryan made breakfast, so it’s your turn to make lunch.”
“Give me a break,” Mike complained, “besides, I don’t think you would want to eat anything I made right now.”
Tony laughed, “You’re probably right, OK, how about this, I’ll grill some burgers for lunch and you take my turn tonight and make dinner?”
“I think I can live with that, thanks,” Mike replied as he began the long slow descent from the top bunk.
Four hours later
Mike reached out his arms and swept in the pile of money that sat in the middle of the table.
After lunch, Ryan insisted that they play cards again.
Tony was ready to start drinking beer again so playing cards sounded perfect to him and Mike didn’t object, it was better than trying to go hunting.
He wasn’t sure if his head could survive the sound of a rifle being fired.
“Still lucky as hell,” Ryan growled.
“And I’m sober this time,” Mike started to say until he noticed the empty beer cans piled high above the top of the trash can next to the table and then added, “At least mostly sober.”
“Maybe you should think about a being a professional gambler and give up selling cars,” Ryan griped.
“I would definitely be more successful at gambling than I am at selling cars,” Mike laughed, then he turned to Tony. “When you called me yesterday, you said you had a proposition you wanted to discuss. What was that all about?”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to come work for me,” Tony grinned, “but now that I see you have a gambling addiction, maybe I should reconsider.”
Mike laughed, “I appreciate the offer, but you know I’m no damn good at construction work. You saw that picnic table I tried to build, it’s so damned crooked, Jamie can’t even use it to play with her dolls, they keep sliding off the table.”
“I wasn’t going to offer you a construction job, I want to stay in business,” Tony laughed. “My payroll clerk/bookkeeper is leaving to take a job with the Pirates in Pittsburgh. Being you are a financial analyst, I thought you might be interested in taking the job. I know it doesn’t pay the kind of money you would like, but it has to be better than selling cars. Besides, I thought it would be fun with the two of us working together.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t know, Tony,” Mike replied, “I should probably spend my time filling out applications and looking for the kind of job I had at U.S. Steel. Linda and I may be expecting another kid, my old Toyota is on its last legs,” Mike sighed.
“I need to look down the road and find something permanent,” Mike added.
“Think about it,” Tony said. “My guy isn’t leaving for a few weeks. You could do the job and still look for something else. You can get by on what the job pays and it will take the pressure off you until you find what you want. That way you won’t be tempted to take another crap job like selling cars just so you can pay the bills. Work the job as long as you want, just give me a two-week notice when you find another job. Who knows, you might like working for me.”
Mike thought for a second, “You have a good point, let me think about it for a few days and talk things over with Linda. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather find someone that you know will stay with you for ten years or more?”
“Either way, I will only have to fill the position once, now or say in three months,” Tony smiled. “It’s no problem. If I can help you out a little, I’m happy to do it. But, I’m hoping that you will decide to stay on.”
“OK then,” Mike smiled, “I might just take you up on that offer.”
“While you’re thinking about it,” Tony grinned as he dealt the next hand, “you might want to consider taking it easy on the boss.”
Ryan laughed, “And taking it easy on me too.”
Mike laughed and slid his chair away from the table.
“I’ll keep that in mind, but right now, I need a short trip outside. Keep your hands off my cards until I get back.”
Mike stood and walked to the door.
He pulled the door open.
He started to step outside, but stopped and stared out towards the outhouse.
Tony and Ryan noticed that Mike was just standing at the door, staring outside silently.
Ryan looked at Tony, then shifted his gaze towards Mike and asked, “Is that damn bear out there again?”
Tony looked at Ryan and grinned.
“And you two assholes better not be screwing with me again,” Ryan added.
Mike turned and waved for them to come over to the door.
“You guys have to see this,” Mike whispered. “This is creepy as hell.”
“What is creepy” Ryan asked after grabbing his rife as he moved his head out from the side of the door and looked outside.
Tony walked up behind Mike and looked outside.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” Tony asked.
Outside, just past the outhouse, a stiff looking figure staggered by the outhouse. The figure’s right arm hung limp at its side. The left leg was stiff, and seemed to be dragged along as the figure struggled to move across the clearing.
The sun was getting low in the sky behind the figure, so it was hard to see much more of the figure than a dark jerky silhouette.
“This reminds me of a class I took one summer to pick up some credits down in Morgantown at West Virginia University,” Mike whispered. “We were in a backwoods cemetery one afternoon. We were using tombstones to make a timeline about wh
en different nationalities immigrated to the U.S. It was really a cool class.”
“You said summer and not Halloween, right?” Ryan laughed quietly.
“I was in the corner of the cemetery near the woods, when this guy came staggering out of the woods, coming in my direction.” Ryan continued, “Chills ran down my spine. The guys one arm hung by his side, swaying as he staggered along. His one leg didn’t seem to work and he was dragging it along with him. I really felt weird when I saw his face. He had a long cut from his forehead, down through his right eye that ran down to his chin. The eye was gone and the stich marks followed the cut down over his face. The entire right side of his face drooped.
I started to look around for something I could use as a weapon, but fortunately the guy turned and staggered back into the woods.
It honestly remined me of the opening scene from that old movie, Night of the Living Dead. You know when that guy and girl were driving through the cemetery and their car broke down. They saw this creepy guy staggering through the cemetery and the guy started joking saying, ‘He’s coming to get you Barbara.’
Barbara started to freak out, but the creepy guy really was coming to get them.”
Ryan listened to Mike’s story and started talking in a creepy voice, “He’s coming to get you Mikey!”
“Maybe the bear is using this guy as bait to get Ryan to come out,” Tony joked.
“Funny,” Ryan replied, obviously annoyed.
“Keep an eye on him,” Mike smiled, “I have to go to the outhouse and I don’t want him ‘coming to get me’.”
Ryan grabbed his gun with both hands, “Well, I’m going out there to see what the hell he is doing out there on our property.”
Mike looked back at Ryan, “With a gun? You’ll scare the hell out of the poor bastard. He looks like he has had enough problems without you scaring the hell out of him. Just leave the poor guy alone.”