by Josh Hilden
7
4:00am EST
They spent 15 minutes gathering what supplies they could find. In the manager’s office, Kyle found another box of shells, this one full, for the revolver. This brought the total number of shots to 87. They filled backpacks that they pulled off of the shelves with candy bars and miscellaneous pieces of junk food and bottles of soda. Benny added the store first aid kit and flashlight to his gear, and picked up a wooden baseball bat from the sports section of the store for defense.
The only problem was when they entered the stock room. The sounds of moaning from inside the store became clear. From the far end of the room a human shape could be seen stumbling toward them. She’d been one their bosses, but she had also been one of their friends. Melanie Bailey did not deserve to be left like this.
Kyle hefted the fire axe, but Benny put a hand on his arm, “I got this man.” He said and walked toward Mel talking to her as he advanced. “I’m sorry about this Mel, but I am not going to leave you like this.” He swung the bat and connected with the side of her head. The sound of bone being smashed echoed in the cavernous room. She fell to the ground and moaned no more.
Benny walked back over to Kyle, who did not comment on the wet sheen coating Benny’s cheeks.
Kyle used Mike’s keys to unlock the loading dock side door and cracked it open. Looking outside he saw none of the Dead as the crisp night air smacked him in the face, bringing with it again the smells of smoke and fire. Twenty yards from the door was the object that he was looking for, Mike’s 2010 Toyota Prius.
“Is everything clear?” Benny asked behind him.
“Looks that way,” Kyle turned to Benny and handed him the keys that he had taken from Mike’s pocket and then slid the revolver out of his waistband. “I’ll cover you while you get the car unlocked and started.” He said.
Benny took the keys and slid outside into the cold pre-dawn darkness. They trotted over to the car and Benny slid the first key into the lock. The night was pierced by the shrill whistle and flashing lights of the car’s security system being triggered.
“Push the fucking off button!” Kyle yelled at Benny who was fumbling with the key chain. The siren and lights continued for 20 seconds before Benny managed to hit the right button on the ring and then all was silent. Until the moaning forms began to approach them.
All around them shapes began to close in, reaching and moaning as they shuffled and stumbled their way toward the little car and the two young men who were trying to flee. Benny inserted one key after another, dropping the keys four times in the process, as he attempted to get the car open.
“Hurry the fuck up Ben!” Kyle yelled throwing caution and noise discipline to the wind. He swung the barrel of the revolver from side to side preparing to begin dropping the Dead when they got within thirty feet. The first to cross the arbitrary line was a younger man in a business suit, half of his face appeared to be gnawed off and there were bullet holes in his chest. Kyle breathed out, as his mother taught him when he was seven, in the same moment as he squeezed the trigger. The blast was deafening but his aim was perfect. A thumb sized hole appeared on the dead man’s forehead and the contents of his skull were ejected from a hole several time bigger in the back of his head. He fell to the ground in a heap.
“I’VE GOT IT!” Benny screamed half hysterically throwing the car door open. Kyle heard the click of the passenger door being opened and he climbed inside but never took his eyes off of the Dead that were getting closer and closer.
“Let’s go,” He said to Benny.
Benny fumbled with the keys as he hurried to get moving and finally put the right key in the ignition and cranked it. The soft hum of the hybrid engine filled the interior, and just as Benny put it into drive the first of the Risen Dead reached the car and began to slap at the windows.
“Just be calm Ben, they can’t get in here, take your time.” Kyle sounded calm even to his own ears, but inside was turmoil and terror as he watched the dead people get closer and closer.
The car started to move and Kyle turned on the satellite radio to hear news of the crisis. As they maneuvered around the Dead and the wrecks that littered the streets of the southern Miami Valley, Kyle Carson and Benjamin Millett listened to the death of a world.
Chapter Nine
1
University of Michigan Medical Center
Ann Arbor, Lower Michigan
October 19, 2012 AD (Day Two)
3:05am EST
Lisa was only able to catch a few brief periods of sleep. The dreams that accompanied those periods were disturbing to say the least. She kept dreaming of Sandy, and in all of her fragmented dreams that were that day, it seemed that Sandy was trying desperately to warn her of something but she could not understand her. Sandy wasn’t speaking English. It seemed to be some gooey language of mostly consonants and sound combinations that were impossible for the human mouth to form. She was on the cusp of understanding the alien tongue, but she always woke up before it happened.
If somebody told her when she started her shift that in no more than 36 hours she would be running the hospital and commanding a small group of soldiers, cops, and civilian militia fighting off the Risen Dead, Dr. Lisa Sutton would have said they were crazy.
The Risen Dead were swarming all over the corpse of Ann Arbor Michigan like maggots. The perimeter that surrounded the core of the city and seemed so strong less than six hours ago had utterly collapsed. The city defenders were now isolated in small pockets like the one that encompassed the University Medical complex. Dr. Lisa Sutton was now nominally in charge of all of the people and material supplies of this island of life in the vast sea of death.
Television and radio stations were dropping off the air one after another. The only radio station that was still broadcasting was 102.9 FM, and that station was manned by a single DJ who was trapped in the building and surrounded by the Dead. He was relaying dispatches that were coming in on the AP wire and reading postings from the internet. He was also taking phone calls and allowing people to tell their stories while the cellular and land lines were still up. It was all heartbreaking, people begging for help, people trapped in their homes and in vehicles. He was broadcasting the end of the world and people couldn’t stop listening, even Lisa. One of the nurses at the Hospital was recording all the broadcasts.
When she was asked why she bothered she responded sincerely, “Someone needs to remember.”
Unlike public broadcasts which were barely hanging on, communication with the city government and with the majority of the few National Guard troops deployed in the city were completely lost four hours ago. As the senior doctor in the Hospital and the highest ranking Military officer she made the decision to seize command at midnight.
People began to panic and it seemed to her that many of the medical, police, and military personnel were on the verge of running after the report that the National Guard command center in the city hall had been over run and wiped out. She knew right then and there, that if somebody did not give these scared and desperate people a wall to lean against and direction to pull in that they would all be dead.
She was just as scared as any of them needed but that needed to be ignored if they were going to survive. When she climbed on top of the main desk in the Emergency department and shouted for all of them to “Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” nobody raised even a peep in protest. In fact, she was sure that rag tag group of survivors was glad that somebody had thrust their hand into the power vacuum and had started making decisions.
“Captain Sutton,” a young Army corporal said as he walked into the main lobby of the hospital. Lisa decided because of its large size and easy escape routes to use it as her command center for the duration.
“Yes Corporal?” She asked as she read a report that had just come in from one of the other Safe Havens. The one at the High School. They were bugging out, packing up their people and getting the heck out of dodge. More and more Lisa was thinking that it might be
a good idea if they did the same thing. But the hospital was the largest safe haven in the city. There were almost a thousand people inside the tight perimeter that they had set up. She had no clue where they would go or how they would get there.
“Ma’am, the sentries on the parking structure say that the fires in Ypsilanti are getting worse, and closer.” He sounded scared.
Decision firmed in her mind, she scribbled a few lines on a steno pad and tore the sheet off, handing it to the young man. “Run this over to the Radio Room in the ED. Tell whoever is on duty to repeat in every five minutes for the next half hour.”
The Corporal saluted then ran off for the Emergency Department. Ten minutes later she heard one of her orderlies, she had to think for a minute before she realized it was the new kid Jorge, reading her orders through the radio on her hip.
“This order comes from the acting Hospital Chief of Staff Lisa Sutton. Dr. Sutton has assumed command of all emergency and defense forces in the Ann Arbor area. All people who hear this message and are capable of making their way to the University of Michigan Medical Center are ordered to do so. We are going to consolidate here at the hospital, and then as a group we are going to leave the city.”
Conversation in the main lobby ground to a halt. All heads turned and looked at her. She stood up as straight as she could and raised her voice to be heard by everyone, “This city is dead. If we don’t get out now, I don’t know if we ever will.” People began to murmur, but it sounded hopeful rather than discouraged.
“Sam,” she called to the Police Captain when he walked into the room, “I need to talk to you in my office.”
He stopped walking toward the cafeteria and instead turned in the direction of the room that Lisa had taken over as her office. She closed the door behind them after he entered. When the door closed they collapsed into chairs. With the people counting on them not able to see them, they both allowed the fear and tension they were holding at bay loose before they exploded.
“It’s a good idea Doc, this place is finished.” He said. She was sure that he even believed it, but the words tasted like ashes in his mouth.
“There are a lot of vehicles in the parking structure and there are three city buses inside our perimeter.” She picked up an ice cold cup of bitter black coffee and drained it in one long drink.
“As long as we stay off the main roads, I am pretty sure we can make it out of the city. But where the hell are we going to go Lisa? Every report I hear is that every city is going through the same thing we are if not worse … that broadcast from Los Angeles.” They both shivered when he said that. The news programs that were still broadcasting kept showing the airborne image of hundreds of thousands of the Risen Dead swarming through the city like a rotting wave.
“I want to show you something before I tell you where I think we should go.” She said getting up and stretching her arms above her head. She didn’t see Sam wince at the sound of her back popping.
Sam got up and followed her out of the office. They went down to the basement and entered a room marked “Cold Storage”. She headed past tables and benches stacked with unmarked boxes and opened a giant freezer door.
Sam half jumped half ran back six steps and drew his sidearm. On the other side of the freezer door was a large woman with a gash on her neck, her eyes seemed to be locked right on him. Something seemed wrong and he slowly lowered his gun when he realized that the woman wasn’t moving or moaning.
“What the fuck is that?” He asked Lisa not bothering to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“That, my dear Captain Sims, is a Corpsecicle. I got the idea before the local command and control went to shit. We took one of the recently Risen Dead and locked her in the blast freezer. It took about 20 minutes and she was frozen and inert.” She was pleased with herself and wanted him to know it.
“Is there a point to this?” He asked her.
“It’s October Sam, in about three weeks the temperature is going to stay below freezing. All those fucking things around here are going to start freezing up. The farther north we go, the faster the temperatures are going to drop.” She was getting excited as she talked. “We need to go as far north as we can and find an out of the way place to fortify until this is over … if it ever is.” She said.
“OK I’m sold. Do you have an idea of where we should go?” He closed the distance with the frozen dead woman and was studying her, looking for signs of movement and finding none. He wondered how long it would take her to thaw, and would she resume movement and attempt to eat people when she did.
“My grandfather owned a place on Lake Superior and he used to take me and my sister there in the summers. When he died he left it to me and Sandy.” She had to bite back concern at the mention of her sister’s name. She hoped that she was OK.
“It’s in a town called White Harbor.”
2
4:25am EST
The children who sought refuge in the Hospital were being utilized to bring supplies from the basement to the staging area in the parking structure. Once they were in the structure, they were set to searching through the abandoned cars for useful goods. The plan was to bring everything into the structure and then move all of the people inside. After the sentries were moved the Risen Dead would then move into the Medical Center. Then the Parking Structure would be sealed off via the steel gates.
It was the best possible plan, but in executing it the chaos of the medical center was amplified by a factor of ten as the survivors prepared to evacuate. Every scrap of Medical supplies, fuel, ammunition, and food were packed into the ragged assemblage of vehicles that were being cobbled together.
“Dr. Lisa,” one of the children yelled to her as she walked toward the shuttle bus being used as the command vehicle. Like the other vehicles chosen, it was in the process of being modified for the trip.
“Hi Brian, where is your Mommy?” She asked the 10 year old boy. He and his Mother brought his injured Father in eight hours ago. He’d expired, and then had to be put down by the squad of volunteers assigned the grisly task.
“She’s in the kitchens!” he yelled toward her as he hurried to get his burden to the supply vehicles. She smiled sadly. Brian still didn’t know that his Daddy was gone. His Mother, Brenda, was semi-catatonic and was being used to help pack boxes under strict supervision so she didn’t hurt herself.
The smell of gasoline and paint was so strong that Lisa wished that she had a mask to help filter out the fumes. The vehicles were being painted dark colors. Every available container was being filled with gasoline from the Hospital’s pumps and siphoned from other vehicles. She saw Patrick Rowland, head of hospital maintenance, talking to some of his helpers and giving orders. The short, stocky African American man was in his mid-fifties and seemed to be made of black marble. Lisa headed right toward him.
“Pat, got a minute?” She asked him.
“Sure thing Boss Lady.” He said with the faintest trace of a South Carolina drawl. Pat Rowland moved to Michigan in the late 1970’s looking for work in the auto industry following a hitch in Vietnam. He’d taken a job at the University, painting to make ends meet during a layoff and never left. The school paid for his education. For the last 10 years he’d been strictly an administrator. Looking at the work he’d been doing on the vehicles, Lisa could tell that he’d lost little if any of his former skills.
“How long until we will be ready to roll, Pat?” She asked studying the clipboard that contained her ever expanding list of things that had to be done.
Through the open sections of the Parking Structure they could hear the moans of the Risen Dead and the gunfire of the defenders as they held them at bay. Lisa was now firmly of the opinion that the noises of the defenders were actually drawing more of the Dead to them. She’d determined that once they left the walls of the hospital they would rely more on hand weapons in order to conserve ammunition. Also to avoid attracting more of them than absolutely necessary.
“I’d like to have the
rest of the day. But once the supplies are loaded, we could roll out of here.” He looked at his own list of things to do, a battered and grimy steno book. “The armor is as good as we are going to manage without a proper garage, and the extra water and fuel tanks are secured. We have three shuttle buses and five ambulances ready to go. That does not include all of the personal vehicles that will be joining us. And then of course there is The Bitch.” He laughed, and Lisa joined him in a chuckle at the name.