Sleepers

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Sleepers Page 11

by Jacqueline Druga


  Randy and Missy sat close on the couch. He was showing her pictures on his phone. I saw their plates on the coffee table and I bent down to retrieve them.

  “Mera, I’ll get them,” Randy said.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m trying to stay busy.” I glanced at Missy. “How are you?”

  She shrugged. “I’m doing. How are you, Mera?”

  “I’m doing as well.” I told her. “That’s all we can do.”

  “We’re sharing pictures of the children,” she said. "If you wanna join us.”

  “Maybe later.”

  Randy asked. “How’s Danny?”

  “Feisty, but I can tell something is wrong.”

  Missy reached up and laid her hand on my wrist. “He’ll get better. He will. I feel it.”

  “I do, too. Thank you. I’ll let you guys go, I’m gonna go see what our macho duo is up to.” It felt good to know even at my wry attempt at humor that I bred a smile from Missy. I carried the plates to the kitchen. I could hear Beck and Alex talking outside. I rinsed off the plates and set them in the sink.

  My bottle of bourbon was sitting on the counter and I poured a healthy glass, taking it with me to porch.

  Even though it was seven o’clock, it was still bright, although the temperature did drop outside, making it tolerable. Both Alex and Beck sat on a chairs on the porch, but they were separated by a distance. It was odd because they were such a contrast of men. Both tried to be the tough guy, one was rebellious, the other disciplined.

  I didn’t feel the need to ask if I could join. I just pulled up a chair and sat between them.

  “How’s Danny?” Beck asked.

  “Okay, I guess. What do you think?” Beck looked over at Alex.

  Was I missing something?

  Alex said, “We were just discussing being proactive.” He nodded at my drink. “I have ice if you want to put it in your tea.”

  “Oh, it’s not tea.” I sipped. “It’s bourbon.”

  Alex chuckled. “That’s a big glass.”

  Shrugging I brought it to my lips. “I’m an alcoholic.”

  Beck seemed surprised by my comment. “Really?”

  “Textbook.”

  Alex raised his beer. “Aren’t we all?”

  “So, what is proactive? Do you guys think he’s going to turn into a Sleeper? Please be honest.”

  Beck shook his head. “No, I don’t believe for one instant that is going to occur. I believe you, me, Danny, the others, all have a natural immunity to whatever virus caused the Sleeping Sickness. The infection that we worry about isn’t the Sleeping Sickness, it’s bacterial. You know human bites have the highest rate of infection.”

  Alex added. “That’s where the proactive part comes in. I think a healthy IV dose of antibiotics will do the trick. So we’re gonna head down to Freeman and hit the small hospital.”

  “When?” I asked.

  Alex held up his beer bottle. “When this is gone.”

  Beck set his empty bottle down. “We wanna go before it gets too dark. Plus, I haven’t slept. I want to do that when we get back then switch off with Sans here.”

  I was confused. “Switch off?”

  “Take a watch, make sure no Sleepers wander in,” Beck said. “In fact . . .” He stood.” “We should go.”

  “I agree.” Alex stood as well.

  “I’m coming.” I took a huge gulp of my drink. Both men looked at me the same way at the same time, as if I were nuts. “What? I can’t go?”

  Beck moistened his lips. “It may be best if you stayed behind. You know, in case we run into Sleepers.”

  “Beck, in case you haven’t noticed,” I folded my arms and looked up to him. “On this little road trip, inadvertently I have taken out more Sleepers than anyone else.”

  Beck cleared his throat. “Exactly. And um, that’s why you should stay back. A sense of protection.”

  “Sure.” Alex set his beer bottle on the porch railing and walked to the door. “We’ll give you a gun. Just make sure you aim for the legs.” He walked inside.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Back asked.

  “He’s an asshole.”

  Alex’s ‘I heard that’ carried from the kitchen.

  “Beck, please.” I pleaded. “I really need to feel like I’m doing something for my son. Just let me go help find what needs to be found.”

  Beck just stared at me.

  “I can’t sit around. I can’t. When I do, all I think about is Jeremy and my daughter. Please. Sleepers or not, it keeps my mind from going there and my heart from breaking every time it does.”

  Beck peered outward then with a heavy sigh he looked back down at me, laying a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll go tell the others we’ll be back.” He slid it from me as he walked into the house.

  I was still holding my drink. Sipping it, I walked to the edge of the porch and stared out. It was peaceful at the haven, it really was. A large yard, trees lined up in the distance. Not a sound or smell that was wrong. Peaceful. It made it hard to believe that anything horrible had happened to the world. But I knew I soon would be checked back to reality when I ventured with Beck and Alex to that hospital.

  ****

  The sky took on the pre-dusk look; still light, yet with that orange hue about it. Alex played with the radio in the SUV, but nothing came up. He told us that back at the haven he had several transceivers and antennas and was going to try to see if he could pick up anything on one of those. He told what type they were; Beck was impressed, but me, I didn’t have a clue about radio types and so forth.

  The town of Freeman was small. The single national chain drug store was the big icon in the middle of the two stoplight town. No fast food places, I didn’t spot a grocery store. It wasn’t an easy off-the-exit stop. Everything was pretty quiet.

  Just after the two main blocks of businesses were houses. We didn’t see a Sleeper at all. But I started to realize that never did we find the Sleepers; they found us.

  Like on my street, the refugee center, Greg’s house. None at first then they came. I wondered if it would be the same in Freeman or even at the survival haven.

  Alex instructed me to take a right on the two-lane tree-lined road. That went for about a mile until it merged onto a four-lane road. That seemed more like a populated area and I got a twitch in my stomach over what we might face. Still as we drove there were neither cars nor people. We made a turn into the driveway of the county hospital but that was as far as we could get.

  Though not nearly as bad, it was reminiscent of when Daniel and I sought help for Jeremy. Cars jammed the entire length of the driveway, even making their own lanes in the grass. The lined cars extended all the way to the hospital and parking lots.

  There was no way to drive around them, and to get to the hospital we had to walk.

  That scared me. But I was with Beck and Alex. After turning my SUV around in case we had to make a quick escape, we all stepped out. Beck held tight to his M-4; Alex had his shot gun and despite comments from Alex, Beck gave me a revolver.

  “Just don’t shoot either of us in the leg,” Alex commented.

  Beck didn’t get it. I didn’t explain nor did Alex. We just trudged our way toward the hospital. Both men had this keen ability to stare ahead, focus only on the hospital. I couldn’t, I looked inside every car we passed. Every single car was empty. I supposed some parents, gridlocked and desperate, just carried their child home. Others obviously opted to hold their child until the bitter end.

  Alex made the suggestion that noise brought the Sleepers, using Missy’s crying out and screaming on a quiet street as an example. So under that theory, we were silent.

  Our voices when we spoke were whispers.

  We used the emergency entrance, the doors were open. It was dark all but for emergency lighting on the walls. No one was around. There were tons of hospital beds in the waiting room and halls, but they were all crammed together and pushed to the side. Upon them, IV lines rested on clothing and
dust. There was also something else there.

  The smell of death. That same sour smell that lingered at Missy’s. The remains of the children didn’t cause that smell. I knew that.

  The plan was to go to the back, search out the IV materials, and get the rest of the stuff from the Freeman Walgreens.

  We had barely stepped into the back section when the smell grew stronger. Beck paused and whispered, “There were people here after the event.”

  “I agree,” Alex said.

  “How can you tell?” I asked.

  Beck explained. “The beds pushed to the side to make room to walk through.” He stepped to the nurses’ station, ran his hand over the counter. “All the remains of the kids out there, where’s the dust? It would have floated about, dispersed and landed everywhere. And …” He twitched his head toward the desk. His height gave him the advantage to see over the high ledge of that nurses’ station. I had to step closer and look.

  I brought my hand to my mouth and nose to lessen the smell and to control any urge to regurgitate, something that was fast becoming a regular habit of mine.

  Her head rested on the desk surface. She was a nurse or doctor; it was hard to tell but she was wearing scrubs. The entire desk surface was covered with dried blood. It came from a huge gaping wound in her neck.

  Alex whispered to me. “Try not to throw up again.”

  I agreed. Throwing up again was the last thing I wanted to do. I was okay when Beck reached down for her hair. I was even all right when he commented, ‘she’s only been dead about a day’. I was proud that I stayed in control when he lifted her head despite the fact that the entire desk calendar lifted with her because the blood adhered it to her body like glue. But the second Beck pulled the calendar from her with a Velcro-ripping sound, I lost it.

  I was able to scoot a few feet away to the garbage pail, lifted it and ignoring Alex’s remark of ‘There she blows’, I vomited.

  My watering eyes searched for something to wipe my nose and mouth, and then I saw the hand extend with a rag. “Thanks.” I took it and did a fast cleanup.

  “You okay?” Beck asked. Of course it was he that gave me the rag. It wouldn’t have been Alex.

  I nodded with a ‘yes’ and turned around to see Alex shaking his head. “What?” I asked him.

  “Can you try not to throw up every time we see something gross?” Alex asked.

  “I’ll try.” I said with sarcasm.

  Alex peered over the counter to the nurse. “Well, she was but all right. At least we know we aren’t dealing with the Z word.” He looked back and me and Beck. “So when we see a Sleeper we don’t have to always aim for the legs.”

  Beck’s lip curled. “Why in the world would we shoot them in the legs?”

  Alex only pointed to me.

  “Ignore him.” I said. “Okay, can we get this done with?”

  Beck nodded. “All right, there don’t seem to be that many rooms. I’m pretty confident if there were any Sleepers here, they’d have heard us and been on us. Each of us stay in this area, hit a room, and look for the IV bags. If you see a Sleeper, call out.”

  Alex verbally stated his agreement but also said if we didn’t understand what was in the bag, grab it. He’d decipher it, and he was going to find the refrigerators, as well.

  It was a plan. I was nervous. I really didn’t want to be doing it alone, but I took stock in what Beck had said.

  Beck went to the right; both Alex and I went left.

  He went in one room; I went beyond him to the next. I didn’t think about how stupid a move that was. It was at least fifteen feet from where Alex went. But the swinging double doors stated, ‘Emergency OR’, and I figured I would hit the antibiotic IV jackpot there.

  I didn’t see her when I first stepped inside. I was too focused on the long line of cabinets over the sink. But I heard a noise, a slight growl, and I spun to my right.

  I didn’t scream or cry out with concern; I just said at a slightly louder voice, “Sleeper.”

  She wasn’t a threat, but it was pathetic and sad all at the same time. Her darkened eyes and reactions told me for certain she was a Sleeper.

  The younger woman couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five. Her hair was long and dirty and stringy. She was on the operating table and she stared at me, mouth snapping as if she were trying to bite. Her legs kicked about, and she thrashed back and forth at an attempt to reach me. But she couldn’t. She was held to the table by the restraints on her wrists.

  Alex came in with a rush and slowed down when he saw her. “Aw, man.”

  My eyes never left her. “She’s pregnant, Alex, very pregnant.”

  “I can see that.” He slung his shotgun over his shoulder and reached to his waist for his revolver. He pointed it at her.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “She’s a Sleeper.”

  “But she’s pregnant.”

  He huffed out, lowered the gun and placed his hands on her stomach. “Nothing, Mera. Nothing moving in there. Nothing. Just like every other child. Gone. Just like you told me about all the babies that were born. Dead.”

  It made me shudder when he said that. Using baby and dead in the same phrase.

  “Do you understand?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He walked to the head of the table and aimed his revolver at her.

  “Alex, you’re just gonna shoot her?”

  “Would you want to live like this?” he asked me.

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Neither does she.”

  Without any more hesitation and a simple pull of the trigger, he fired a single shot into the woman’s head and she stopped moving.

  I didn’t scream. It just caused me to jolt.

  He returned the revolver to the waist of his pants. “You can skip this room for supplies. Come on.” He touched my arm.

  “I will.” I pulled back. “Just let me cover her.”

  With a ‘fine’ and roll of his eyes at me, Alex told me not to dally and left the room, causing the door to swing hard in his exit.

  The single stream of blood poured from the hole in her forehead like an open faucet. Her head was tilted my way and eyes were still open. The blood hit the floor steadily.

  There were a lot of things I felt at that moment, but not one of them was fear. Staring down to her I truly felt bad. I was certain this was not how she envisioned her life to end. She was so young. Did she have a family that missed her? Worried about her like I was about Jessie? And the baby she carried. All those dreams she had for the child’s life, so close to holding that infant in her arms. Now she laid there, a bullet hole in her head, a victim of some virus that made her into a creature. Strapped to a hospital table, whoever put her there didn’t even cover her, barely had her dressed. She was another face, another infected, a person without a name, like she was nobody. But she wasn’t nobody. She was somebody’s child and almost somebody’s mother.

  ‘What if she was my daughter’ blasted through my brain. Would I want some stranger to just walk away or would I want that stranger to at least give her a little bit of respect. Respect she deserved in her young life.

  My eyes scanned the room. I saw the shelf on the wall behind me that contained sheets and blankets. My foot caught some of the blood and I slid a little in my reach. The blankets and sheets all tumbled to the floor, but I managed to grasp one. Flapping it out, I started with her legs, pulling the sheet up her body. I undid her wrist restraints and laid her arms on her body then before I covered her completely, I took a moment to close her eyes. “I’m sorry sweetie,” I whispered, then pulled the sheet over her.

  A week before hand I would have prayed, but at that moment, I didn’t know how I felt about God. If God was responsible for what the young woman endured then he didn’t want my prayers for her.

  In my preparation to go, I caught it through the corner of my eye. There was a movement of the sheet. It wasn’t her hands; the movement was too low. At
first I thought it was my imagination then I saw the sheet move again.

  Immediately my hands went to her stomach. I felt the full, hard belly and just as I was about to chalk it up to an optical illusion, I felt it.

  Thump.

  A tiny kick against my hand. I gasped and before I could retract my hands again, I felt another kick, then another.

  I couldn’t speak, I could barely breathe, calling out, “Alex,” I charged for the door, but the floor was wet with blood and my feet caught it. The slickness shot me forward like a speed skater. I had no control and when my shoes hit the clean portion of the floor, my feet stopped, but my body kept going. I flew forward into the wall next to the door.

  It knocked the wind out of me and trying to catch my balance, I reached out, but only caught air and I tumbled to the floor.

  “Mera?” I heard Alex call my name.

  Still unable to breathe correctly, I couldn’t call out. I staggered to a stand and just as I did, Alex, calling my name, blasted into the room. He hit the door with such a force it flew back into me and nailed me in the side of the head and my body hit into the wall.

  Blood rushed to my ears and a loud ringing began in them. The tremendous pain to my head was like nothing I had ever felt. I slid down, back against the wall until my rear hit the floor.

  “She’s not here,” Alex said.

  “Where is she?” asked Beck.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Check down here.”

  Their voices meshed together, drowned out by the ringing in my ears. They were looking for me. Calling me. I was right here. Right here.

  Their voices faded.

  Faded.

  Black.

  ****

  I wasn’t out long, I couldn’t have been. I could still see daylight peeking through the window at the far corner of the operating room.

  There were three things that snapped me to. One was the pain, the other was the feeling of blood running down my head and the last was the noise.

  A wet noise that was steady,

  My head spun and my eyes took a moment to focus. Bringing myself to a stand, a sharp pain stabbed through my head and I felt woozy. I probably would have fallen again, passed right out had I not seen it.

 

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