Before The Cure (Book 1): Before The Cure

by Gould, Deirdre

  “I— guess we can try,” said Neil. “We should probably plan out how to do this first.”

  “What plan? We just have to tell the sane ones that we’re opening the patient room doors and to meet us in the cafeteria. That’s it. There’s not really anything else we can do.”

  “We can try to tell them a safe route. Or— or make a safe route. Harlain used the phone, but we’ve got control over the whole place. Sort of.”

  Shay snorted a laugh. “What control? This isn’t a space ship. We can see what’s going on out there and we have remote access to some of the fire doors and patient room doors, that’s about it. Maybe we can find a few tasers in the lockers if we’re lucky, but even those aren’t going to help much. I think those only incapacitate one person at a time. Not sure, never used one. Look at how many sick people there are. Just the ones we can tell are lurching or falling or—” Her shoulders jerked as she gagged. “Or eating. Got to be close to forty. And who knows how many more that we can’t tell. We can’t take on that many.”

  “We don’t have to, that’s my point. We tell the sane people to make some— sign. So we know. Then we start closing fire doors or setting off alarms to draw the sick ones away or trap them. We’ll make a safe— safer way to the cafeteria and to the therapy pool and the parking garage exit. You said there were about a hundred and fifty staff and patients left when the quarantine hit. Debbie said the people who had to be left in the ER were dead when she and Cody went back to help them. Or— or were sick and had to be dealt with. We found six or seven more in the courtyard and locked up three more sick people. Aside from that, just from what we’ve seen of how the sick people act, we have to assume that at least a third have died—”

  “That’s a neat little math trick, Neil,” Shay snapped. “How about another one? We don’t know how many of these sane people are in the beginning stages of the disease. Sure, some will be obvious, like Cody, we can separate them into— I dunno, into another section of the cafe or dry storage or something. But what about the ones who aren’t slurring yet? The ones who are just a little sluggish or clumsy? Like—” She closed her mouth abruptly, took a deep breath. “I don’t like thinking about them like this. These are people I see every day. I know some of their families. Been out to dinner with a few. I know,” she said turning to him as he opened his mouth to protest, “I know you don’t see them as a math problem. You’re the one who’s resisted hurting any of them even to save your own skin. I know. And I realize we have to plan, so we have to talk about it. It still sucks. And— you’re right. We’re not going to be able to save every one of them. Not even all the ones who don’t have this— plague. I’m not sure anyone’s going to come out of those patient rooms at all. And your friend— you realize you might have to— we might have to kill him to get out of here, right? That it might come to that?”

  “So what do you want to do then?” Neil cried. “What’s your suggestion? We sit here and watch whoever is left starve to death? Or get attacked when they make a desperate attempt to raid one of the vending machines? Or bust in the cafe windows to grab what they can and leave it unprotected and all the others scattered? What do you want to do, Shay?”

  “I don’t know! Stop shouting at me, I don’t know any more than you do. I don’t have another idea, I just don’t like this one.”

  Neil rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, well, me either. Sho less try the one idea we’ve got and hope.”

  Shay flinched. Neil looked around expecting some kind of movement in the shadowy office.

  “What?” he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “You— what did you say a moment ago?”

  “Let’s try the one idea we’ve got?”

  She seemed to shake herself and said, “Yeah, of course. Might as well get this out of the way. I’m tired of talking about it. Just tired in general.”

  “Ok,” said Neil bending over the desk and flipping on a small lamp so he could see the control panel more easily. “First thing’s to figure out where the intercom thing is. And the emergency unlock doohickey.”

  The room was quiet for several seconds while he tried to read the peeling labels below the buttons and switches.

  “Neil,” said Shay from over his shoulder, “Have I been slurring?”

  “No,” he said, confused. “Besides, isn’t that something you’d know?”

  “I don’t know. Would I?”

  He twisted to look at her. “You aren’t slurring. Don’t worry. I know this is— fucking terrifying, but we’re going to get through it. You aren’t sick. Don’t borrow trouble.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” She opened a drawer and rummaged around.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Some kind of manual. Got to be some kind of emergency protocol or something. There always is here. Every possible station has one, even in the cafe.”

  Neil was hungry again by the time they’d figured out where each toggle was and what they wanted to say. They’d had a few bags of pretzels and some water that the pharmacist had stashed at some point, but that had been hours before. Maybe longer. It was hard to tell in the security office because none of the windows were on exterior walls. The time stamps on the video feeds said it was three but he hadn’t thought to notice the time when they left the pharmacy so he had no idea how long it had actually been. They were both going to need something solid, soon. The plate of eggs in the cafe had been two days ago. Or had it been three? He didn’t like that he was losing track of time. Regardless, he and Shay weren’t going to be feeling any better until they had an actual meal. None of the people in the patient rooms would either. It’d been even longer for them. Get back to the cafe and we’ll feed everyone. Hot cup of something would be nice, too, take care of this scratchy throat. Last thing I need is a cold on top of it all.

  “You ready?” asked Shay, shaking him from his wandering thoughts.

  “Sure. Know what you want to ssay? The sick people will hear it too. They’ll probably start that growling thing they do and get worked up. Besht keep it short and ssweet. I’ll be ready to let them out when you say.”

  Shay’s expression fell. Neil thought maybe she was nervous about the intercom.

  “I can do it if it’s uncomfortable for you,” he offered.

  “N—no, I’ll do it. You just control the doors, ok?”

  “Sure.”

  Shay clicked on the microphone then immediately clicked it off again. “What do we do about the people who are too weak to get out of their beds?” she asked.

  Neil hesitated. “We aren’t even going to know where they are, Shay. Or if they’ve got this thing. What can we do? If there were more of us— maybe when there are more of us, we can talk about sending a rescue party to each room but— I don’t know. There’s nothing we can do except to give them a chance. At least they’ll know someone’s trying to help them, that they haven’t been forgotten. Rather die knowing that, if it were me.”

  “I hate this,” Shay muttered and clicked the microphone on. “If you can understand me, please listen. There are some things you need to know. In a few minutes, my friend and I are going to unlock the patient room doors so that you can escape. Before that happens, you should know what’s going on outside your room and outside this hospital. We’re under quarantine for some new disease. We don’t know who might be infected or how it gets passed around yet. When the people who have it reach a certain point, though, they’re very violent. They don’t seem to recognize anyone— we aren’t even certain they recognize when they’re in pain. They will attack you. That’s why you’ve been stuck in your rooms without help for days. We had police here to enforce the quarantine. As far as I know, most of them have died. There was no one left to check on you or let you out. We’re going to do that now. But we can’t tell you who or what might be waiting outside. You’re going to see some— bad things. Stay quiet. We’re going to set off alarms at certain spots to draw the infected away from the stairways. They seem drawn by sound. They’re going to
attack each other on sight, too. You’re going to want to— to save them, because they’re people. Nurses who cared for you. Doctors. Other patients. I can’t— I can’t tell you not to try to help, I can’t be your conscience, but if you do, and they are sick, they’ll turn on you. I know you’re hungry. Probably a lot of you need medical care. I hope there are some doctors left. The cafe is empty and locked. A lady named Maisy will let you in. If you can make it, we can help each other. There is food and some medical supplies and most importantly, we’ll all be together.”

  “Tell them not to go outside,” said Neil, watching the monitors. He could see stray sick people whirling around, scrabbling at walls, trying to locate Shay’s voice. Up in the maternity ward, the people were sitting up, listening raptly. Even the people on watch had halted mid-stride and stared up toward the ceiling.

  Shay nodded, took a deep breath. “You’re going to want to leave the hospital. Go home. I know. Me too. But you can’t, not yet. Our exits have all been blocked and guarded by armed soldiers. Some of you aren’t going to believe me. And I’m sorry. I don’t know how to convince you. We tried, the four of us. One of us died trying. The soldiers have been ordered to shoot on sight. If— if you join us in the cafe instead, maybe we can— I’m not sure. Maybe we can negotiate to be released or something. Or find some other way to survive. No one else is coming. They aren’t going to send in more soldiers to help us. All we’ve got is each other. So this is the plan. We’re going to give you some time to get ready. We’ll try and draw the loose sick people out of your hallways, but I’m not sure if it’ll work. I’ll warn you again before we unlock the doors. The sick people seem to be able to open doors, but they only seem to do it when they are chasing something. It’s like they forget whatever is out of sight. So if— if you’re not able to get out, you’ll still be safe if you stay quiet. Or if you need more time to get ready, the sick people aren’t going to try your door unless you call them to it. We know they can’t figure out elevators. They can’t figure out locks. We haven’t discovered much else about them yet. Look around you. Don’t take anything that won’t help you make it to the cafe. Look for something to push the infected away from you, to stop them from biting and clawing. A— an iv pole, a crutch, a cane. Head for the elevators. If you take the stairs, be careful, we can’t see you or help you in there. Come down to the lobby. We’ll do our best to help you. Get ready, and then we’ll talk again.”

  “Good idea,” said Neil as she clicked the microphone off, “telling them to get ready. Didn’t even think of that.”

  “You think they listened?” Shay asked, wiping the sweat from her hands over the knees of her pants.

  “Look,” he said, pointing to the maternity ward feed. The people were up, moving and stuffing objects into plastic bags.

  “Traveling too heavy,” said Shay, shaking her head.

  “It’s only a few floors. And they’re healthy. Got a few fire axes with them. They must have been to several floors.”

  “Yeah,” Shay squinted at the screen. “I think that’s one of the policemen who came in with the quarantine. It looks like he’s in charge of their group. He probably found them going door to door.”

  “There are more— where’s this?” he pointed to the bottom left screen where a few figures slid out from behind a long counter.

  “Uh… employee break room, I think. That one’s way over near physical therapy. I hope it’s empty over there.”

  “They were hiding. I don’t think it’s empty.”

  The feed switched to the nearby hall. The floor below the camera was almost black. A foot lay at the corner of a frame and a person stood swaying unevenly staring at the far wall of the hallway. Another lay curled up on their side nearby. Neil couldn’t tell if they were dead or injured or sleeping. There was more blood on the clothing of both. The feed switched back to the break room. “We need to clear a path for them.”

  “We need to clear a path for most of them. Where are you going to draw these to? If you pull them too close to another group then we’re no better off than when we started.”

  “Maybe we can do it slowly. We have the intercom. And the cameras. Go floor by floor and tell the sane ones when to run. We won’t be able to draw all of them anyway. You saw out in the hall and down by the elevators. There’ll be some who ignore the alarms. But we can at least— thin it out a little.”

  “Still doesn’t answer the question of where to draw them to,” said Shay.

  Neil shrugged. “We want them down by the therapy pool, right?”

  “But if they blow our distraction early then we’ll lose any chance to escape.”

  “They won’t. The soldiers outside won’t even know they’re there until we figure out how to break down a door and let them come pouring out.”

  “How are we going to do that? And wouldn’t it be easier to do without a ton of sick people milling around the pool?”

  “I— haven’t figured that part out yet,” admitted Neil.

  “They’ll kill each other if you put them together like that.”

  “Yeah. Some of em will. Until they get— full and sleepy. I don’t know what choice we have though. We don’t draw them away and they’ll attack whoever they run across. People will starve to death in their rooms or come out and get slaughtered. If we do draw them away, they’re going to run across each other— either in little offices or at the therapy pool. They’re going to fight either way. Or they’ll starve too. Might as well have them all in one spot, or at least as many as we can, so that the people who can still survive this have a chance. Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me this whole time?”

  “Shooting them is fast,” said Shay. “I never thought letting them tear each other apart over— days was a good idea.”

  “You want to go door to door trying to shoot them? Where are we going to get that many bullets? And I don’t even know if it’s possible to get that gun back at this point—”

  “I don’t want to go shoot people. I’m just— why the fuck do you and I have to make these decisions? Where’s the— the government or the police or anyone?” She rubbed her forehead in frustration.

  “Not here. But we are. And there are people waiting for help.”

  “Some of those people are going to die while we try to help them.”

  “Yeah, Shay, ssome of em are. They won’ be quick enough to the elevators or they’ll panic or run into bad luck with a stray infected person.”

  “We’re going to have to watch them die. Right here. The infected people too. All on-screen.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t want to do this.” Shay’s face crumpled.

  “Me either,” said Neil and tried not to press any of her wounds as he hugged her. “But we have to. Just like— just like when we’re done in here, I’m going to have to kill my bes’ friend. We don’t really have a choice.”

  They cried together for a minute, and then Shay wiped her face and cleared her throat. “Let’s get it over with,” she said.

  Neil let her go and turned toward the control panel. “We’ll have to tell them the plan then, so they know to wait. Start with that break room, it’s closest to the pool.” He traced an emergency map of the hospital with one finger to find the correct alarm trigger on the panel.

  Shay clicked the microphone on.

  31

  It was strange, not hearing the blaring panic of the alarm. He wasn’t certain the switch had worked until Shay pointed to the strobing light at the corner of the small screen and someone came sprinting down the corridor toward it. The man stumbled near the entrance of the ER, tripping over a stray wheelchair and went sprawling, sliding to a brutal, abrupt stop against the wall near the edge of the camera’s range. Neil winced, but the figure barely seemed to notice, already scrambling up, his head whipping around, searching for the sound. Neil’s heart took an odd leap, something like a twisted joy that the alarm had produced some result. “It’s working,” he said abruptly.

  �
�Can’t believe he isn’t knocked out from that,” said Shay. “Or at least slower. That must have hurt like hell.” She pointed to another screen. “More coming. You better hit the next alarm or you’ll have a— a traffic jam.”

  Neil clicked the next silver toggle before killing the first alarm and watched the first figure hurtled out of one screen and into the next. Three more careened through the first screen. Neil wasn’t certain whether they were chasing the sound or chasing each other. He panicked and found the next toggle. He was too late. The lights were flashing but the figures had stopped, facing each other. The man in front had turned, his mouth dropped open in a wide scream. His body shook with the force of it. The other three didn’t even slow down, leaping at him. “Shit,” gasped Neil, frantically switching the toggles for the alarms on and off, hoping to draw their attention. They were fighting in a soundless flurry of jerking arms and flapping clothing. The first man’s shirt tore, caught in the grip of someone’s fist. He lunged forward and latched on to a woman’s shoulder. She stumbled back a step before raking her fingers over another woman’s face. “Jesus,” said Shay. “They aren’t even— they’re just lashing out. There’s no— reason to it. She should be fighting back against that man but instead…”

  Neil clutched at his head. “What do I do?” he cried. “They’ll kill each other. What do I do?”

  Shay glanced away from the screen at him. “Yeah. We talked about that, remember?”

  “Thish iss bad. Thish iss worse than I thought it would be,” he muttered. On the screen, the woman’s arm flailed. The man slammed her against the hallway wall, his mouth still embedded in her shoulder. He could see the dent the impact of her head had made in the drywall. She went limp for a second.

  “Hey, hey,” she said quickly, “Take a breath. Close your eyes and take a breath.” She gripped his shoulders. “It was going to happen, remember? At the pool.”