“We’ve got to help them,” Keith said, moving toward the building.
“No time!” Helga reminded him. “We have zombies in front of us and zombies behind us. The screams will bring more.”
“Then you go back to the hospital, and I’ll do what I can,” Keith said. He jumped off the bike and approached the building on foot, carrying the sledgehammer in his right hand.
“Help me!” the woman screamed, finally noticing them.
Keith fought his way closer, knowing that every second counted. He heard a thump to his right and turned to see Helga, still fighting alongside him.
The woman screamed again as the balcony door gave way. She stumbled to the railing, the dead beginning to force their way through the door behind her.
“Oh, my God,” Keith said, risking a look at the balcony before turning his attention back to the crowd before him. He worked his way toward the building as quickly as possible, with no real plan in mind.
The woman turned to try to fight off her attackers, and Keith could hear signs of hysteria in her voice as she alternated between crying and screaming.
“You’ll never make it, Keith,” Helga said quietly. “She’s dead. They’re both dead. It’s how it always happens.”
“They aren’t dead yet,” he said. He found an opening in the crowd and ran for the building. With several feet still to go, he looked up at the woman again, only to realize that she was holding the child out over the edge of the railing. Keith watched in horror as she was grabbed from behind. The ghoul sank its teeth into her shoulder, tearing away a chunk of flesh. As the woman looked down at Keith, he could see the resignation in her eyes. She let go of the screaming toddler.
~*^*~
~04~
Demolished Office Building near St. Mary’s
When Chuck woke again, it was to the sound of dripping water. His eyes flew open, though he could make out nothing in the inky blackness of his prison. He listened carefully, trying to determine the source of the sound. After crawling a few more feet, he stopped to listen again before changing directions and moving toward the left wall. Several minutes passed before Chuck finally stopped, feeling a tiny stream of cold water hitting his forehead. He tilted his head up and opened his mouth, taking in the precious liquid. The water was tainted from the debris of the building, but Chuck didn’t care. To him, it tasted better than any pure mountain spring water he’d ever had. He stayed on his hands and knees for several minutes until his thirst was finally quenched. Knowing that the rain might not last long, he began to search for something in which he could store more of the water. He found it the hard way, by slicing open a finger on the bottom half of the broken champagne bottle he’d opened just a few days earlier. Maybe it had only been a day earlier — he couldn’t be sure. Carefully picking up the jagged bottle, he crawled back to the drip and let his container begin to fill. He would have preferred something bigger, but the little water he could store just might keep him alive another day, maybe more if the rain kept up.
~*~
Streets of Lansing, Michigan
It happened so fast that Keith didn’t have time to think. He ran forward and reached up toward the child who was falling through the air. Five stories, he thought, with concrete below. He had one shot at catching the child. The sound of the woman’s screams and the moans from the undead faded, leaving him in a void where the only noise was the blood rushing in his ears. Time seemed to slow as he took two more steps, praying that he was lined up correctly. His eyes never left the falling child whose arms flailed in the air as he tumbled downward. When the small body hit Keith, it was with much more force than he had expected. The momentum pressed his arms down, and he struggled to get a grip. His hands came to a stop inches from the concrete at his feet, barely keeping the toddler’s head from slamming into the ground.
Keith was shaking as he stood with the screaming child. He stepped back far enough to look up at the balcony and almost wished he hadn’t. He could see an arm hanging through the railing, blood dripping down and running off the tip of a painted nail. The arm twitched as the dead feasted upon the woman’s body, and Keith quickly looked away. He and Helga were almost surrounded.
“You hold on to me,” he told the child, who clutched him tightly. Keith jumped onto his bike and followed Helga as she plowed her way through the thinnest section of the crowd.
One of the ghouls managed to get a hand on the back tire of the woman’s bike, though its fingers were instantly mangled by the turning spokes.
Keith stuck the sledgehammer into the wire holster, knowing that there was no way he could fight off the dead while riding a bike and holding a child. Any zombie-killing would have to be left to his Ukrainian friend.
He looked up as he heard the jets again. This time they passed directly overhead before disappearing into the clouds once more. The roar of the engines grew quieter then faded completely.
Keith and Helga made it a couple more blocks before the clouds finally opened, pummeling them with rain. The dead showed no indication that they even noticed the change in weather, but the rain was obstructing Keith’s vision and also deafening him to anything happening around him.
They finally managed to leave the dead behind, but they were deeper in the city with no easy access to the highway.
“Maybe we should try to find a working car,” he finally said, raising his voice to be heard over the storm.
“Roads are too bad!” Helga yelled back. “We maybe should find a place to wait ‘til that baby stops screaming. It will call all the zombies in city to us.”
“Not sure they can even hear him over the rain, but if we go into a building, the crying is going to get us surrounded in no time.”
“Can you make him stop?”
“I doubt it. I haven’t had much experience with kids. How about you?”
“Bah. Kids,” she said, frowning. “This is reason why some animals eat their young.”
The child started crying louder at the comment, and Keith wasn’t sure if the reaction was due to Helga’s words or the scowl on her face.
“Hey, it’s going to be all right,” Keith told the boy, not knowing what else to say. As they continued down the street, he kept quietly talking to the child, remembering how his mother and his grandmother had always done the same thing when he was upset, and it had usually calmed him. It seemed to work because the child finally grew silent, resting his head against Keith’s chest.
~*~
Yucca University Medical Center, California
Rayburn turned to look at the man who had addressed him. He was about six feet tall and obviously in good shape. The green eyes looked familiar, but the military cut of the man’s brown hair threw Rayburn for a moment. The last time George had seen him, his hair had been a little longer and he’d been wearing civilian clothing.
“Dan! Of course I remember you,” Rayburn said.
“It’s good to see you,” Dan said, taking the doctor’s offered hand.
Dan Hixson’s daughter, Brittany, had died several months earlier from cancer. The child had been six years old when she had finally succumbed to the ravaging disease, but it was two years more than they thought she’d have. More importantly, the methods used to treat the girl had not been as rough on her as traditional treatments would have been, so her quality of life had not suffered. Dan had taken some time off from work during the last few months of his daughter’s life.
“I see you’re back to work. How is your wife?” Rayburn asked.
“I’m not sure. She moved out and filed for divorce,” Hixson admitted, glancing at the floor. “She won’t even talk to me anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Rayburn said. “I’ve seen a lot of marriages fail after the death of a child.”
“And in our case, Brittany was the reason we got married in the first place,” Hixson said. “Once she was gone, my wife decided that we had nothing in common and nothing to talk about. That’s the way it goes, I guess.”
&
nbsp; “I guess so,” Rayburn said. He could see pain in the man’s eyes, but he decided not to pursue it. If Hixson wanted to talk about it, he would. Changing the subject, George said, “You know, I’m surprised I didn’t run into you earlier. I’ve been all over the hospital. I walk around a lot, and I thought I’d seen just about everybody here at least a dozen times.”
“They just flew my squad in,” Dan explained. “I was kind of surprised to end up here since we were in the middle of some pretty heavy action in Long Beach. I guess some guys went AWOL, and we’re the replacements.”
“So, what’s it like out there? I’m reading all kinds of mixed reports online,” Rayburn said, “and it’s a little hard to tell what’s true. Of course, I tend to get sidetracked when I get on the computer. It’s just amazing how many times these celebrities get arrested. You’d think they’d learn, but they just get out of trouble, and the next thing you know they’re getting arrested again. Maybe it gets to be a habit. What do you think?”
“Well, I . . .”
“Sorry,” Rayburn said. “I got off track there. I was asking about the plague. How bad is it?”
“I’m not allowed to talk about that,” Hixson said, quickly changing the topic of conversation to ask Rayburn about his recent clinical trials. After a while, the two guards at the door were called away, and Hixson turned back toward Rayburn.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he almost whispered, “but I figure I owe you. You gave me a couple years with Brittany that I wouldn’t have had otherwise.”
“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Rayburn said.
“It’s all right,” Dan said. “This morning, we had our first outbreak here in LA. It’s a nightmare out there. It’s spreading here much faster than other places.”
“So why aren’t we letting more people inside the walls?” Rayburn asked. “Look at all the extra room we’ve got here. Are there other shelters out there? I mean regular shelters, not places like this?”
“Lots of them,” Dan said. “They’re setting some up in schools and churches, but that’s what they did in Galveston, and they were quickly overrun. They’re trying to do a better job of checking people before they let them in now, but there are problems with the screening process. Some people are getting infected through scrapes and tiny cuts, so it’s hard to weed them out.”
“I’ll bet all those people who rented their houses out wish they could cancel the contracts,” Rayburn said. “They’d probably give just about anything to be back home inside these walls.”
“I guess there was almost a riot,” Dan admitted. “Some of them were happy to be out of the city, but a few of them were outside the walls with their lawyers this morning, demanding to be let back in. I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
“That’s crazy,” Rayburn said. “There’s room for all of them and all of us. We could probably take in a thousand refugees, too, and not even notice it.”
“We were told that critical research is being done here, so we can’t risk having anybody come in that might be contaminated. If the scientists working on this are compromised, it could be the end of the human race.”
“And do you believe that?” Rayburn asked. “I’ve seen a lot of people inside these walls who aren’t working on a cure, including me. Besides, I heard they have UCLA, Mayo and the CDC. What makes Yucca so special?”
Dan ran a hand over his short hair. “Doc, that’s all I know.”
“Are you okay with what’s going on here?”
“They don’t tell us everything that’s going on, and I have to believe that they know what they’re doing since they have the big picture and I don’t.”
“So does that mean you’ll look the other way if these people out there start dying because they’re not allowed inside?”
Dan let out a sigh. “Can’t say that I would, Doc, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Maybe it won’t be as bad up here in the foothills.”
~*~
St. Mary’s Hospital, Lansing
“I see two bikes!” said Hawk, who was on guard duty in the crow’s nest.
“Get the gate ready!” Fish radioed down to two men who were sitting on the ground near the wall. “Might need some firepower, too!”
Within a few seconds, more men and women ran out to help. There was a large group of the dead behind the bikes, and more were coming from the side streets.
“What the hell?” asked Gunner, after he’d climbed up onto his makeshift tower.
“Keith’s carrying something,” Moose said, taking a couple shots before looking through his scope. “Looks like a kid.”
The two men were able to open a path for the riders. The gate was flung open and Keith and Helga were ushered inside. Others fought to close the gate again, and they were finally able to lock it.
“You guys okay? Anybody bitten?” asked a biker named Wrench, whose nickname had been based on his mechanical abilities.
“We’re both okay, but we don’t know about the kid yet,” Keith said. “I want to get him checked by one of the doctors.”
They entered the building and waited in the ER until Dr. Martinez came down to examine the child.
“He seems fine,” the doctor pronounced. “No signs of physical trauma. I don’t see any bites, either. We’ll get him some food, and he can stay in quarantine with you.”
“Wait . . . with me?” Keith asked, glancing at Helga. “Maybe Helga can . . .”
Helga backed away, a frown on her face.
“Look, I know you don’t want to babysit,” Dr. Martinez said, “but you’re going to be stuck here for three hours. Why drag someone else away from what they’re doing to come in and sit here with him if you’re going to be here anyway?”
Keith had no good answer for that. He looked down at the child who was still clinging tightly to him.
“Besides, he looks perfectly comfortable where he is,” Martinez grinned.
“Yeah, whatever,” Keith said. He sank into a big chair and laid his head back to rest, still holding the toddler against his chest.
~*~
“Time’s up,” Dr. Martinez said, walking back into the ER. He eyed Helga warily before adding. “I need to take a blood sample before you can leave. Are we going to do this the easy way this time, or do I need to call the guards over?”
He crossed his arms when she didn’t reply. “Well?”
“I’m thinking,” she said. She muttered something in her mother tongue then thrust her arm out at him, smiling when he flinched. “Here. Take my blood. I won’t even feel that stupid needle.”
Dr. Martinez did his best to keep his hands steady as he took the blood sample, and once he was done, he approached Keith and the child to repeat the procedure with them.
“Take his blood first, while he’s still asleep,” Keith suggested.
The boy started to wake up when he felt the needle, but he fell back to sleep almost as soon as it was over.
Dr. Martinez took the samples into the lab next to the ER, returning just a few minutes later.
“Everybody’s clean,” he announced. “You’re free to go.”
“What about the baby?” Keith asked, standing.
“He’s fine.”
“I mean what do I do with him?”
“I have no idea. Maybe ask Lindsey.”
Keith went to find Lindsey, finally tracking her down to the cafeteria.
“Hey, Keith,” Lindsey said, regarding the child with curiosity. “Any luck today?”
“No,” he said glancing away. “The building was demolished, just like Reynolds said. I guess I had to see it for myself.”
“I’m sorry. I was hoping there had been a mistake.”
“You and me, both.”
“I see you didn’t come back empty-handed,” she said, nodding toward the child.
“Any idea what I should do with him?” he asked her, keeping his voice down so he wouldn’t wake the boy. “Poor little guy just lost his mother.”
&
nbsp; “What happened?”
Keith related the entire story while Lindsey listened.
“If you hadn’t been there right at that moment . . .” she said, shaking her head.
“I know,” Keith said, “but it makes me wonder how many others are dead out there because nobody came along at the right time to help.”
“You think there are a lot of people still out there?” she asked.
“Helga seems to think so. She says that the dead congregate in certain areas because they know there’s someone alive. I can’t tell you how many times we saw a bunch of the dead swarming all over a building. Then there were other times where we saw live people in windows. They didn’t dare call out to us, and if they had, what could the two of us have done? Even if we could have gotten them out of the buildings, it would have been tough to bring them back on the bicycles. We did all right as long as we kept moving fast, but it was a little tense once we had a passenger.”
“I had no idea there were so many people left,” Lindsey said. “Every time I’ve gone out with the bikers to get supplies or do a rescue, the streets have looked pretty dead. Maybe that’s not the best wording, but you know what I mean. I was under the impression that there weren’t many more people alive out there.”
“Maybe that’s because you were riding with a bunch of bikers,” Keith pointed out. “People might be intimidated by them.”
“And not by you and Helga?” Lindsey laughed. “You’re both a little scary too, you know.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he admitted with a smile. “But there were only two of us, and we were on bicycles. They probably didn’t even hear us coming most of the time.”
“We should talk to Snake and Jack about it,” Lindsey said.
“Good idea. And the baby?”
Dead, But Not For Long (Book 2): Pestilence and Promise Page 4