“Then you can stay in here for twenty-four hours until we’re sure it’s safe to let you out,” Lindsey informed her. “It’s your choice, but that’s the rule. It applies to all of us.”
“Not much of a choice,” the blonde said.
“Nobody is making you stay here at the hospital,” Lindsey pointed out. “But if you do choose to stay, we have some rules. We’re pretty flexible, except when it comes to putting others in danger. Quarantine is one of these rules. Also, if you stay, you’ll be put to work.”
The woman laughed at the comment. “Doing what?”
“Helping in the kitchen, cleaning, guard duty, maintenance and soon we’ll be needing farm hands. I’ll be passing out questionnaires so we can get a better idea of what sort of skills everybody has.”
“We have a few teachers among us,” said a middle-aged African-American woman. “Do you have any sort of schooling going on for the children? If you do, we’d love to help.”
“No, we don’t,” Lindsey said. “At the moment we only have a few children. If you’d like to set something up, that would be wonderful. We’ll just let the teachers handle the details. But also, since the parents aren’t here, we’re going to need to figure out sleeping arrangements since we won’t want children in rooms by themselves.”
“A few of the parents came to the school when they first heard about the outbreak,” the teacher said, pointing out a couple of families. “I’m sure some of us would be willing to work something out with the other children.”
“Count me out,” the blonde said, rolling her eyes.
“I take it you’re not a teacher,” Lindsey said.
“Not hardly. I’m a model. I was out talking to a friend when the shit hit the fan. I went to the school because I thought it would be safe.”
Lindsey turned her attention back to the others. “A few of the rooms are big enough for 4-5 people, though most are smaller,” she said, mulling the problem over. “We’d need a lot of adults willing to help out with this many children. I’m just wondering if we could find a couple big rooms that would fit several bunk beds. We could put a couple adults and several kids together.”
“That would be perfect,” the teacher said. “Then as time goes on we can maybe place the children with families. I’d rather not split them all up in the beginning. It might be hard on them. And I’d be happy to be in one of the bunkrooms.”
“That would be great. What’s your name, ma’am?” Lindsey asked the woman.
“I’m Roxanne Martin,” the teacher told her.
Some of the children giggled, and one whispered, “I thought her name was Mrs. Martin.”
“I’ll help, too,” another woman said. She was younger with long black hair. “I’m Nadia Flores.”
There was more giggling as a few of the children whispered among themselves.
A woman in the back spoke quietly to the man beside her and finally raised her hand. “My husband and I are willing to help out. We’re both teachers, and our two children are with us.”
“Great,” Lindsey said, taking their names. Two other male teachers, named Mike and Sean, volunteered as well. “This would give us three rooms. I think this will work if we can find some large rooms.”
Soup, bread and water were brought up. As people started to eat, Lindsey talked to several of them about skills they had that could be helpful.
When Lindsey got to the blonde, the woman said, “I have skills. I already told you I’m a model.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a shake of her head.
“They always need help in the kitchen,” Lindsey said, making a note on her tablet.
“Oh, please,” the woman said, rolling her eyes. “Me? Work as a waitress?”
“I was thinking more like a dishwasher. We don’t have waitresses, but we could use more people to clean tables and wash dishes.”
“That’ll be the day. I’ll just find a man to support me,” the woman said, smiling sweetly at Lindsey.
“Sorry, but it doesn’t work that way,” Lindsey replied. “Everybody works. We’ll find something for you.”
“What a bitch,” the woman muttered loud enough for Lindsey to hear.
Ignoring her, Lindsey excused herself. When she left the room, she let out a long breath.
“What’s wrong, Lins?” Hawk asked. The biker was leaning against the wall outside the room with two other guards.
“I just need to shoot something. If I stay in that room another minute, it might end up being that blonde chick.”
“Mandatory quarantine after being outside the wall. Sorry, Lins,” Hawk grinned.
“Not if I go back outside,” she pointed out. “Would you mind calling Snake on the radio and see if Wombat will come get me? Please?”
“Sure,” Hawk laughed, making the call.
~*^*~
~16~
St. Mary’s Hospital, Lansing
Autumn sighed and stood up, having had no luck luring any pigeons into her trap. It made her wonder how detectives could do surveillance, since she was bored to death after only a few minutes. Checking the wooden trigger on her trap, she decided to leave it and come back later. If nothing else, maybe the birds would get used to having it there and she could try again another time. She brushed the dirt from the knees of her jeans and headed back inside the building.
~*~
Lindsey hurried over to the loader with bread and water for Billy. He took it, gratefully, though he set it aside for the moment and continued clearing the debris around the area where the man was trapped.
“Done with orientation already?” Snake asked when Lindsey walked over with her crossbow.
“More than done,” she replied. “I think I may turn over those duties to someone else and just stick to killing zombies in the future. It’s a lot less stressful.”
Wombat laughed and turned to take out a walking corpse with his machete.
The noise from the loader seemed to be drawing the dead, and Snake finally motioned for Billy to stop.
“Take a little break and eat something,” he said.
While Billy dug into the food, Snake made his way over to the front of the loader. “Hey, can you hear me?” he called into the pile of debris.
“Yes,” came the reply, but it sounded weak.
“We’re about to get overrun here, so we’re going to try to thin the crowd,” Snake told him. “It’s going to take a little while. Will you be all right?”
“Do I have a choice?” the voice asked.
Snake stepped back. He knew that the extra time could cost the man his life, but Snake had almost twenty of his crew outside, and he wasn’t about to sacrifice them, either.
“Hey, guys!” he yelled. “Try to lead some of these goons off. I’m going to have Wild Bill here build us a quick wall when he’s done eating.”
As the others started up their bikes, Snake climbed up into the cab of the loader and told Billy to duck down so he couldn’t be seen. While they were hiding from the dead, Snake told him what he wanted.
“We’re gonna block off this area with cars,” he said.
“You just want me to put them around the area we’re working on?”
“No, because the dead will surround us and we’ll be penned in,” Snake said. “We need to have a clear route back to the hospital. We wanted to fence in the park anyway, so might as well kill two birds with one stone. Didn’t plan on including the office building property, but I don’t see much of a choice, at least for now.”
“Oh, I get it,” Billy said, nodding. He stuck his head up high enough to get a quick glimpse at the two roads on either side of the park. There were cars lining the streets already with only a few empty spots.
“All I’ll have to do is push the cars together,” he said, ducking his head back down. “I can include the street that runs down to the gate.”
“Exactly,” Snake said.
“How will the bikes get through when they come back?”
“We’ll find a car w
ith keys in it and we’ll use it to block the entrance,” Snake said. “We can move it whenever we need to. Once the cars are in place, we can take our time building our permanent wall.”
“Works for me,” Billy said.
They waited several minutes until most of the dead were far down the road before Billy started the loader again.
Expertly navigating the large piece of equipment, the young man began to push cars into place all the way down the length of the park. It took some maneuvering at times, but Billy knew how to operate the loader, and he was able to figure out any problems he encountered.
The bikers returned after a while and killed off some more of the dead, but eventually were forced to lead a second group away. By the time they returned once more, Billy was done with the wall. Snake was waiting in a large SUV that blocked the entrance to the park. When he saw the bikes returning, he backed up to let them in before closing the makeshift gate once more.
Once the bikes were shut off and everybody could hear him, Snake told a few of the men to help with the digging since some of the work would have to be done by hand.
“The rest of you can do guard duty along the car walls,” he told the others.
The loader went back to work, pushing away some of the debris while a couple of the bikers waited with shovels and picks.
“Careful with those picks, boys,” Snake reminded them. “I don’t think he’s too far down.”
~*~
Demolished Office Building near St. Mary’s
Chuck could hear the rumble of the heavy equipment working to dig him free. He’d waited patiently as they had worked on walling in the area, though it had taken every bit of fortitude he could muster to keep from screaming at them to just get him the hell out. Now that they were back, he grew more anxious, knowing that his imprisonment in the tomb was almost at an end. When debris began to fall on his head, he almost panicked. The walls shifted, and he was afraid for a moment that it was all going to come down on him.
He turned his head when he heard a low moan somewhere in front of him. It’s on the other side of the board, he reminded himself, though the sound was less muffled than it had been earlier. He heard a loud thump nearby, and he felt the blood drain from his face. The cabinet, he thought. That dead thing has broken through. He took a deep breath, trying to keep from panicking as he silently urged his rescuers to hurry. When the loader moved away once more, he strained to listen. He could hear the moan, and it seemed to be just a few feet away. The putrid smell that followed confirmed his worst fears that the creature was close. Chuck quietly edged his way into the small tunnel he’d found earlier. He lay motionless, hoping he could stay hidden from the creature until his rescuers managed to get to him.
The slap of a dead hand on the ground behind him got Chuck moving forward until he reached the spot where the tunnel narrowed. The cramped space would not even allow him to cover his mouth to mask the horrid stench since his arm was now pinned tightly under his stomach. He could feel concrete wedging him in from above, and he knew that it was the spot where he’d become stuck before. Not knowing what lay ahead, he didn’t want to move forward unless he had to. When a hand grabbed his ankle, he quickly changed his mind. Desperately jerking his foot out of the grasp of the crawling ghoul, he felt his slipper come off, leaving nothing but bare flesh between him and the hungry creature.
With most of his remaining strength, he shifted enough to move forward, dragging his arm beneath his body. He tore bits of flesh on the jagged rubble with each inch of ground he gained. Probably due to the weight that he’d lost since his first attempt to explore the tunnel, he was able to get past the tight spot. He kicked his foot wildly while the creature continued to try to grasp his leg. Chuck feared that a searing bite wasn’t far behind. When he was finally able to pop his arm out from beneath him, he felt the warm blood begin to flow from his wounds. Feeling the beast behind him still grasping at his legs, Chuck frantically felt in front of him for anything that he could use to pull himself forward.
After a couple of seconds that seemed like an eternity, his hand touched a wooden leg that he guessed was from his coffee table. Grasping it tightly, he was able to pull his way out of the concrete trap into a slightly wider space. His arms and shoulders stung where the skin had been scraped off, but the relief he felt far outweighed the pain. The extra room allowed him to pull his legs closer to his body, buying him a few seconds of comfort. He hoped the creature pursuing him was large enough to get stuck in the concrete sandwich from which Chuck had freed himself.
The loader roared nearby once more, drowning out all other noise. Again, the rubble shifted and began to fall around him. For the first time, Chuck could see a pinpoint of light ahead, and he was desperate to be out. He reached in front of him to find another narrow opening. He would have to squeeze his body down the length of it, knowing that if the end was blocked, he would likely suffer the fate of being slowly eaten from the feet up. Crawling through the tight space, he was relieved to find that not only was the end clear of debris, but it opened into a larger cavity which allowed him to stretch out a bit. Exhausted, he turned onto his back and rested. His heart pounded in his chest as he gulped the stale air, unaware of the monster that was slithering through the opening to join him. Chuck stared into the darkness as he felt his heart begin to slow, and his breathing become less labored. The room grew a bit lighter as he began to hear the tell-tale sound of shovels. He turned his head to see a glint of light seeping in from the rubble above him, not too far from where he lay. A smile crossed his cracked lips as he realized freedom was only a few feet away.
The smile quickly faded as a rotting face appeared above him, the milky white eyes illuminated by the dim light. The snarled lips pressed toward Chuck’s throat, and he quickly raised his hands, grasping the creature’s neck before the ghoul could clamp down on his flesh. He slammed its head forcefully and continuously into the jagged ceiling, just inches above its head, until it finally stopped moving. Juices dripped from the wretched creature’s mangled head, and Chuck pushed the body to the side with what little strength he had left. Closing his eyes, he tried to catch his breath. The voices outside began to grow clearer, and the brightness of the room increased when a large piece of concrete was moved, opening the hole further. Blinded by the bright light, Chuck closed his eyes and dragged his battered body closer to where the men had broken through. With the last of his waning strength, he managed to crawl to the opening.
“We see him!” someone yelled.
“He still alive?” another voice asked.
Chuck reached up to grab a ragged piece of concrete, but he couldn’t get a decent grip. His arms were suddenly grabbed, and he was pulled from the tomb into the daylight, which caused excruciating pain to his damaged ribs.
“Careful! My ribs are broken,” he wheezed. He tried to stand, but found that he couldn’t put weight on his right leg without pain. One of the men helped to steady him.
“Have you been bitten?” Chuck was asked as the two bikers helped him limp over to where the others were.
“Hell, no,” Chuck said. He had no intention of mentioning his close call, either. The last thing he needed was for the idiots to refuse to let him into the hospital. In fact, they’d probably just shoot him on the spot. “I haven’t been anywhere near those things. I was up in the penthouse suite until it collapsed.”
“Good,” one of the bikers said. “Can you ride on one of the bikes? You feel up to it?”
“Sure, whatever,” Chuck said, frowning at the sight of the motorcycles. Gangsters, he thought. He took two steps toward the bikes and collapsed.
“Get him into the loader,” he heard a voice say before everything went gray.
~*~
St. Mary’s Hospital, Lansing
Doune looked up to see a couple of the bikers arriving at quarantine with a patient on a gurney. The room was still full of the survivors who had been brought in earlier, so he knew it was going to be a problem. As he walked
over, he overheard Dr. Sharma telling Snake, “He’s going to need to stay in bed, and the other quarantine room isn’t ready yet.” She nodded toward the window where Keith and a few of the bikers could be seen taking the equipment apart.
“Do you have any suggestions?” Dr. Sharma asked Doune when she saw him. “This man needs a bed and IV fluids, but there is no extra space for the bed.”
“How long do these guys have left?” Snake asked, nodding toward the quarantine room.
“Thirty minutes, but where will we put him in the meantime? And your men must also go in there since they’ve been outside.”
“He needs to be where we can treat him,” Doune said. “He’s going to have to be monitored, and we haven’t moved any of the equipment down here yet.”
“He says he hasn’t had any contact with the infected,” Dr. Sharma added.
“Is that true?” Doune asked the patient. “No contact?”
“No! I already told them that,” Chuck said, his words slurring a bit.
“He said he was in the penthouse, alone,” Snake said. “He’s been trapped under the rubble for days.”
Now that they had established the stricter quarantine rules, Doune was reluctant to make an exception so soon, but he didn’t see another option.
“Unless anybody has a better idea, I think we’re going to have to take him upstairs and put him in a regular room,” Doune said, “but I want two guards on him at all times for the next three hours, and he’ll need to be strapped down.”
Snake and Dr. Sharma both agreed that it made the most sense.
“I’ll take him up,” Moose said.
Snake shook his head. “We need guys up there who weren’t with us today. You need to do quarantine, dude.”
Dead, But Not For Long (Book 2): Pestilence and Promise Page 14