“No fucking way. I’ll wheel myself out on a gurney if I have to. We’re not staying here one second longer than we have to.”
She pushed herself up the wall with a grunt. “There’s no way you’ll be able to outrun them if your plan doesn’t work. Not like this. Me either, to be honest. And the people in the hospital rooms— they haven’t eaten in days, Neil. I’m sure there’s some staff left— somewhere in the building, but most of the people in the rooms were already ill or injured. We don’t even know if they’ll be able to make it to the cafe. And we aren’t just talking about avoiding the infected. There are the guards outside, too. Not all of them are going to rush to the therapy wing, no matter how many sick people pile out of it. We’re going to have to make it past whoever’s left. Maybe you want to try a mad dash for the exit, but not everyone’s going to be able to do that. We’re not going to make it.”
He struggled to hide how difficult it was to stand up again. “I know we can’t save all of them. You made that really clear. But we can’t just wait until we’re all healed up. Things are only going to get worse. You said you wanted to get out of here for your family. Even if it meant leaving us behind.”
Shay flushed. “That was before Cody— did what he did for us. And before I talked to my kids. They’re safe. Yours and Cody’s too. Someone’s taking care of them. And then there’s…” She trailed off and he led them slowly down the hall.
“Then there’s what?” he asked.
“Never mind. Just— think about it, okay? Still got to get to the security office and figure out the best way to let them out anyway, we have time to consider. And observe the situation. Maybe we’ll both feel— differently by then.”
“Your kids might be safe. Cody’s kids might be safe, they’ve got someone with them. Cody’s wife, your sister, even Dante’s son has his mom with him. Randi’s got no one. At least until my wi— until Joan can get there. What if things go wrong before then? What if someone snaps like they did here?”
“They’re ready this time. It won’t be the same.”
Neil shook his head and hobbled past a silent conference room. “You sure? Because I’m not.”
Shay caught up with him. She didn’t answer him but was obviously chewing on some dark thought.
“Whatever you’re thinking,” he muttered, “Just keep it. Let’s get to the security office first. There’s no point in arguing about anything else until after then. You have any idea where it is?”
“Not far. Around the corner there and to the right. Takes up most of this floor. Once we’re in there though, I’ve no idea. I’ve only gone there for background checks and my worker id. Everything else isn’t my department. Maybe Cody would have known. Or Debbie. Or—” she broke off with a shaky breath.
“I’m so sorry,” said Neil. He touched her shoulder but she shrugged it off.
“No time for that,” she said. “Later. We’ll think about them later.”
“Okay,” he agreed. They rounded the corner. A woman in a tan security uniform lay sprawled across the floor. The buttons on her shirt strained and the fabric gapped where her torso had bloated. A slightly rancid smell made Neil’s stomach roil.
“Thought we’d be clear,” Shay whispered, half ducking on instinct. “Harlain could have warned us.”
“I don’t think she’s— fresh,” he said softly. “Looks like it’s been a while. Maybe the security team came up here after you guys scattered to get a better idea of things. Or to get weapons. They have weapons in a hospital?”
“Tasers. There’s usually a cop in the ER with a gun, but none of the hospital security. Still, a taser’d be enough to slow the sick people down, I’d guess. Question is, was she sick or is the person who attacked her still here somewhere?”
Neil stared at the woman. Her face had mottled into a dull green and yellow in the dim light from the windows at the end of the hall. There were no visible injuries on her front, but there was blood on one of her pant legs. “You want to stop to roll her over and see?” he whispered.
“No. Just be ready.”
Neil skirted the woman’s outstretched arm, leaning against the wall to take some weight off of his leg. His calf spasmed every few seconds sending hot flares all the way to his hip every third step or so. Shay was right. No way was he going to be able to run like this. Not past a barricade. Maybe not even to the security room door if someone leaped out at them. No Cody to take the attack for you, he thought with an intense wave of shame. Left him, just like you left Dante. Part of him knew he hadn’t had a choice but it didn’t diminish his sense of guilt. Put it away, like Shay said. Later.
The security room was a bank of large tinted windows with a glass door in the center. It was far too dark inside to see anything except the vague gray outline of some sort of reception desk. The keys jingled lightly as Shay tried to find the right one. “Keep an eye out for me,” she said. “This feels— bad. Scary.”
“That’s because it is,” he said, glancing down to the far end of the hall. Nothing moved and there was no sound except the quiet hum of the air vents and the chime of the keys. “It’s a round one,” he told her, “next to some others the same shape.” The woman on the floor bothered him. Should do something for her. Should do something for Cody, too. Especially if we aren’t going to leave for a few days. Days. How can we wait that long? This damn leg— maybe if I can find some painkillers. That’s what we’ll do. We’ll find something to make it numb or so we don’t care. Then we all get out of here. Tonight. Deal with the injuries later. Can’t be worse than letting them fester in here, right? Not like we’ve got another doc to help.
“It’s not. Cody must have confused them,” sighed Shay. Neil glanced over at the ring.
“Yeah, this one, I think,” he said, grabbing the small key.
“Tried it. Tried all the ones shaped that way. Going to have to just keep trying others. Guess we can eliminate the two we already used. And this one— that’s the bathroom key we locked that guy in.”
“There’s got to be at least thir—” Neil broke off as somewhere farther down the hall, a phone jangled, loud and strident.
Shay turned and stared toward the sound. “Is she calling to tell us something? Or is she distracting someone?”
Neil pushed her back toward the door. “Let’s not find out. Might not even be her. Might be someone just calling the hospital trying to find someone. Just— take a breath and try another key.” He moved to block her side from the long, empty length of hallway, spreading his arms slightly, as if he could somehow bodily stop whoever might come sprinting down the hall. Instinct, mostly. He had no real idea what he’d do if it came to that. He risked a glance at the dead woman. There was a walkie talkie on her belt, but nothing else of use. He could see a fire extinguisher a few dozen feet farther on and wondered if he could throw it at someone if he had to. Or swing it. He took a few steps toward it, eyeing the end of the hall. The phone had not stopped ringing. He could see shadows moving on the wall across from the doorway to the west wing. Flapping and shifting and jerking. Something was running toward the doorway. Why? Why is Harlain using the phone? We were safe. She’s calling them closer! Neil tried to sprint to the fire extinguisher as the shadows solidified, became dense. His leg screamed in protest and somewhere behind him, Shay was hissing his name. Someone growled behind an office door a little farther down. The door swung open and banged just as Neil got to the fire extinguisher. A large man in a ripped hospital gown stumbled out of the office. The man swung his face toward the sound of the phone, but not before Neil caught a glimpse of his face.
“Dante?” He was too shocked to stop himself from blurting it out and Dante turned away from the phone at the sound of Neil’s voice. He recognizes me, thought Neil, he’s not sick! “Dante, I’m so sorry I left. I— I looked for you but there were crazy people and— Jesus, I’m so glad you’re okay.” Dante took an unsteady step toward him then a few more, still glancing over his shoulder at the phone. “No, no ignore t
hat. It’s a friend. Trying to dis—” Neil broke off as Shay yanked on his arm.
“What are you doing, fool?” she snapped and dragged him back toward the door. Dante ran toward them.
“Yeah, come on, gotta go,” encouraged Neil. Shay was still tugging him. Dante’s hospital gown was rent in several places and there was dark spatter over most of the front. Neil could see a deep scrape on his friend’s face. It stretched and twisted as Dante’s mouth gaped open. The glass door banged into Neil’s back. Shay was holding it open for him. He turned away for an instant to get around it and that was when the low, rumbling snarl erupted from Dante. It froze Neil, halfway behind the glass door and sent a deep shudder through his gut and up into his chest. He’d never heard that sound from Dante before. Nothing close.
“Get inside!” screamed Shay. “Shut the damn door!”
“No, that’s my—” Shay plowed into him with her shoulder and he grunted and toppled into the security office. She slammed the door and threw herself against it. “He’s my friend!” Neil cried.
“He’s sick,” said Shay, “help me lock it so he can’t kill us.” Her body jerked and twitched trying to keep the door in place while Dante pushed against it.
“No, he recognized me.” Neil scrambled up, intending to pull her from the door. “There are actual sick people coming. You have to let him in!”
“He didn’t, Neil. Oh!” She started as the door bumped and then fell shut again. “Look at him. He’s sick. He only recognized— food or danger or whatever insane idea is going through their heads. He’s delirious. Look at him.”
“He’s just scared.” He pried at her arms.
“Stop!” she cried. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
He shoved against her side. The door rattled and she bounced forward a few inches. “Let him in!” Neil yelled.
Shay kicked out with her leg and caught him square in the stomach. Neil groaned and backed up for an instant.
“Stop,” she said again. “Stop and look.” The door banged against her back and her head smacked against the glass with a dull thud. She wrapped her arms around her skull to stop the pain and slid down into a crouch to recover. Dante was wholly visible to Neil for a few seconds as she did so. His face was close enough to the glass that his breath fogged against it in rolling bursts. A cracked glaze of old blood flaked off in tiny maroon shards as Dante screamed and scrabbled at the door. The cuts on his cheek weren’t the only injuries Dante had. A large patch of skin was missing from his upper chest, leaving a pink, watery hole visible through a rip in the hospital gown.
“Dante, Dante, it’s okay, gonna get you in here. We’re gonna get out of this place, go get Tommy and Randi.”
Dante just growled and huffed at the door.
“You see?” asked Shay, bracing her back against the glass with her feet.
“No he’s just, he’s going to get hurt out there.”
“Look at his fingers,” she told him.
“His fingers?”
“Just look.”
“But they’re coming—”
“Then go out there with him, but he’s not coming inside. He’s sick. Look at his damned hands, Neil.”
He tried to follow the erratic flails and slaps of Dante’s hands. One was curled into a fist, but he could see enough anyway. The skin was gone well past the first knuckle of every finger, peeled and gnawed away. He’d had no one to bandage them as they’d done for Cody. The tissue beneath was raw red and sickening gray-white where he’d sucked the blood away. His other hand slapped against the glass. It was just as damaged. Neil could see the strange indentation where one of Dante’s fingernails should be. He didn’t even seem to feel it when the wounds made contact with the door. It didn’t slow the furious smacking and thumps.
Shay worked her way back up to standing. “Help me lock it before he has buddies,” she said.
“He’s— he’s my best friend, Shay.” Neil choked on the words, but he pressed a hand against the doorframe.
“I’m so sorry,” said Shay. “But it’s not him anymore. Not right now. We get out of here and maybe we can get him some help. If you let him in here, he’ll kill us, understand? We’re both too exhausted and too injured to fight him off or restrain him like we did before. There’s only two of us now.”
Neil shook his head but leaned into his hand to keep the door from flying open. Shay reached for the lock.
“If he’s your friend, you don’t want him to wake up knowing he killed you, do you? You don’t want him to have that on his conscience, even if he was crazy when he did it. It won’t matter.”
Neil hesitated. He could feel the grief already boiling up into his chest. “I can’t, I can’t,” he said.
Shay slammed a shoulder into the bouncing door and twisted the lock. “It’s ok, you don’t have to,” she gasped, pulling him away from the door. “It’s okay. You didn’t make the decision, I did. Remember that, ok? My decision. My fault, Neil.” She had wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him into a painful hug. It was Shay who was crying hardest. Outside, the phone abruptly stopped ringing.
30
Neil stared at Dante outside the security room. He’d stopped pounding on the door at last, a little while after the phone stopped ringing. Now he just paced in front of it. Neil knew he’d likely have to hurt Dante when they needed to leave. Maybe I can just lock him in here. Nobody will need the room when we’re done. He walked to the far corner of the glass watching the doorway to the other wing. Whoever had been running toward the phone had never made it. At least, not that Neil had seen. He wondered if they’d killed each other or if they’d been distracted by something else. Wherever they were, they had at least avoided Dante. Maybe they weren’t sick. Maybe they heard the phone and thought they were saved. We’ve got to do this before more people get hurt.
Shay had retreated farther into the office, looking for another first aid kit to rebandage their wounds where the stitches had broken. Neil was reluctant to leave the windows, afraid that something would happen to Dante while he was gone. Got to do it, he told himself, got to get this done. The longer he’s out there, the bigger risk we all take. He paced with Dante, just on the inside of the glass, limping and wincing each time he put weight on his bitten leg.
“I don’t know if you can hear me. I know you don’t understand what I’m saying. But maybe— maybe you’ll get better, huh? And when you do, I hope you remember that I— you’re my best friend, Dante. And— I don’t want to hurt you. So I hope you go away. I hope— I hope the nurse in your bathroom, I hope that wasn’t you. Because if it were me, I wouldn’t want to know that about myself. I just want you to know, if it was, if— if there were others like the nurse that you hurt— it’s not your fault. Some disease, man. They don’t even know. That’s why you hurt yourself, too. Your hands. I— want to help. Remember when I burned the shit out of my palm on the grill a couple years ago? Forgot it was on and leaned on it. Stupid. Stank like the worst turned pork. You helped me stop the burn, started treating it and Charlie came in and threatened to fire us because it was the beginning of the rush. And you just calmly flipped him off and kept cleaning my hand while I swore a blue streak. Drove me here, right in mid-shift. Wish I could do that for your hands, Dante. Wish I could do that for whatever’s wrong in your head, too. You should go away. Find somewhere to hide from the others until they find a medicine. I’ll take care of Graziella and Tommy until you’re better, I promise. Going to get them tonight. So you— you go. Gonna go find the security system now, maybe not having me here will make you wander away. I wish there was something more I could do for you. I’m sorry Dante. Christ, I’m so sorry.”
He watched Dante stumble into the far wall of the hallway and then turned around. Neil followed a dark passage behind the large reception area. There were several small offices to either side, but at the end was a large bank of monitors and a neatly kept desk with a complex panel of buttons. Shay was a shadow against the light from the monitors.
“There’s— so many I recognize,” said Shay, “even on these crappy screens. I thought it’d be mostly patients.”
He stood beside her, staring at the videos. “Some of them might not be sick, Shay,” he said. “Look, where’s that?” he pointed to a cluster of people lying in rows on the upper right screen. She squinted at it.
“I think— it’s the maternity ward. Yeah— see the incubators in that corner? But it’s supposed to be clear. They were evacuated days ago.”
“Maybe that’s why those people went there. Employees would know it was empty. Empty means safe right now. And they wouldn’t arrange themselves like that if they were sick. They’re close enough to help each other but far enough apart to have their own space.”
“They could all be dead, Neil.”
“No, look.” Someone walked through the bottom of the frame and out again. “Bet they’re keeping watches. The others are sleeping— there’s another one, she shifted on her blankets, see?”
“You think?” asked Shay. Her expression was hard to read in the dim light but her voice was brighter than he’d yet heard it.
“Sure. Probably regrouped after what happened in the conference room and headed there, thinking they’d wait it out.”
“So then why’d Harlain call us? There’s got to be a dozen people there. And they were already in this wing, where it was emptier. They had a better chance of getting here than we did.”
“Maybe she tried them. Maybe they said no. Or maybe she isn’t holding their families hostage so she had no way of convincing them.”
“She’s not holding them hostage, Neil.”
“Sure feels like it, right now. Where is she by the way? I thought the phone’d be ringing off the hook as soon as we were safely in here.”
“She said her shift was ending soon. If it’s as much of a risk to help us as she says, she wouldn’t have stayed longer or done it with someone else looking over her shoulder. And maybe she figured we could handle it from here. Like she said earlier, it’s our necks on the line, not hers.”
Before The Cure (Book 1): Before The Cure Page 22