by Lucas Coon
"I know you are Brynn. Just calm down, we'll be OK sweetheart." Dennis ran his hand through Brynn's dark hair. He smiled at her. Madison was appreciative of him being positive in a situation that was incredibly difficult on everyone. She smiled at Brynn, this was enough to get her to smile back. She had always had a way with younger children, particularly little girls. They always just seemed to get along with her.
"Well, Dennis, what are we going to do from here?" Brynn's mother, Carmen, was standing against the wall. She always came across as an angry person, at least from what Madison had known. This was reflected further by the question she was asking; there was no way Dennis could possibly have a solution to the situation they were in. In the end they were all trapped in the same hospital, in the same room and were doomed to live out the same scenario.
"I don't know Carmen. I don't know what we should do from here. Have you considered the fact that I'm in the exact same situation as you are here?" Dennis dealt it back just as hard as Carmen had. It was clear to Madison that there was more tension here than she was aware of. It could have been the stress of being locked up in a hospital, with little to eat and the threat of death looming over every corner.
"See, this is why I want a divorce. You get us into situations then you don't know how to get us out." Or maybe it was that. Madison was shocked by this, she had no idea that they were getting divorced. She'd been seeing Dennis for a while now, ever since he had his heart attack a few months back. He'd been a great patient and the heart attack was enough of a scare to get him on track in life. He had quit smoking, he was eating right and exercising regularly. Every time he'd come in, it was always him, Carmen and their children. Carmen always seemed cold, but it was never enough for Madison to expect them to get divorced and honestly this seemed harsh. The man was making a point to better his life and she was leaving him?
"Is this really the time to discuss this Carmen? We'll be damned lucky if we get out of here alive and you're worried about the damn divorce?" He had a point, now wasn't the time.
"Yeah, because this is all your fault." She was cold.
"This isn't dad's fault, mom. Stop!" The couple's son, Morgan, spoke up. Madison didn't know much about him, only that he was scared that his father was going to die. He seemed bright, but there were times where he would make a disrespectful comment to his mother or father. The only person he seemed to never get an attitude with was his little sister. It was almost refreshing to hear him talk and even more so to hear him stand up for his dad.
"He's the one that had to be here when all hell broke loose and--"
"Actually, Mrs. Hutchison, I scheduled the appointment. So if you want to blame anyone, blame me." Madison was tired of the soap-opera scene playing out in front of her. She wasn't one for daytime television and watching it play out in real life was getting annoying really quick. "In the end though, it might be best that we not point blame at anyone since, you know, we need to get the hell out of here!" Her statement was essentially the end of the conversation. She wasn't trying to shut everyone down, she genuinely wanted someone to blurt out a solution. Regardless, it wasn't going to happen.
Madison stared at the other adults in the room, and then looked back to the children. It was sad that the kids were acting more grown up than their parents, especially in a situation where it was important to have strong leadership. She wasn't wanting to step forward and take control of the group, but, in the end, she knew she would have to. Dennis wasn't going to take the responsibility and Carmen was more involved in blaming others than coming up with helpful ideas. For the last three days they'd been stuck in a never ending cycle of trying to leave and getting chased into another corner. The only thing that was working out for them was that they were getting close to the exit, they were getting closer to finding their way out. She had come to not care about what happened when they got out, she just wanted to live long enough to see the exit. Whatever happened after that would require a spur of the moment plan. She wondered; if she were thinking about it now and attempting to make a plan, would it still be spur of the moment at the time?
The group sat silently again. This was the painful situation that they had been in several times since they got stuck here. Madison stood and walked to the door. She lifted the curtain that was covering the glass window to see if anything had changed. She peered into the hallway in both directions, to her surprise it looked to be genuinely empty. It was less than a few hours ago they were forced to take refuge in the cramped office to escape the path of a very hungry infected. The empty hall was refreshing in comparison to what they had become accustomed to. Madison stared out the window in each direction, looking as far as she could to make sure that she wasn't missing anything. The restricted view from the glass pane was beginning to frustrate her, it looked clear, but there was no way to be absolutely sure without just going for it. She turned her head to look back at the family that was sharing her fate. They were sitting, separated by as much room as they could squeeze out of the uncomfortable office space. Brynn was leaning against her father, while he sat on the desk against the wall. Carmen was sitting in the chair, pushed as far into the corner as she could force it. Morgan was lying on the floor and using his shoes as a pillow. Madison couldn't believe that he was comfortable, but at least he was making the most of what he had. She turned back to the door, if this was their chance to get out, she didn't want to miss it. She opened the door slightly. The scent of death and fear slowly crept in through the new found opening. As it stung Madison's nostrils she felt the hair raising on her arm and a painful chill crawl its way down her spine. She closed her eyes and stared into the darkness; she only needed the slightest bit of courage to throw the door open and go.
She pulled the door the rest of the way and exited, shutting the door behind her. As she walked out she heard someone shout, but she wasn't sure who it was and she really didn't care. She had to get out; she had to escape the hell they were in and, if they were going to bicker and yell at each other over the most mundane family issues while cannibalism slowly inserted itself into the norm, then so be it. She wasn't going to stop them. It appeared that the hallway was completely clear, and with how it looked to her, she could probably get to the exit. Armed with no plan other than 'get outside' she continued cautiously.
"Madison, wait for us." Morgan called out to the doctor. Part of her was hoping they would come out and join her, but she was also hoping that she could get away from them. She didn't want anything to happen to them, but felt they were going to hold her back at the same time.
"What are you doing?" Carmen opted to ask the tough questions.
"I'm trying to get out of here Carmen" She wasn't wanting to deal with the snarly attitude of this woman. She looked at the whole group. Morgan had his shoes halfway on, essentially with his feet in the holes, but he was standing on the backs. "Morgan, you should really put your shoes on right kid, that's not safe." She never understood some kids. The process of putting a shoe on was not a difficult one. You inserted your foot, pulled the back up if necessary and tied it. If you couldn't tie it, you got ones with straps or ones that you could slip on. Regardless of the kind of shoe you owned it should be situated to cover the entire foot. It was fairly clear to her that he was going to ignore her recommendation. "Anyways, are you guys going to come with me then? It looks like we may have a chance to get to the exit." The family silently agreed to follow her. She didn't say anything else, she just turned and started walking slowly.
As they approached one of the final corners to turn, she motioned to them to hold back as she checked out the situation. Brynn ignored the signal and slowly walked up to Madison. She grabbed Madison's hand and looked around the corner with her. The coast was clear. Madison almost couldn't believe it, they were going to get out. She gestured for them to continue and walked around the wall to the direction of the main exit. This was the exact moment that she regretted making this trip.
"Hey dad is that a..." Morgan started to ask his dad a
question, but was met with a roaring scream. They all turned to see an infected wandering through an open door at the end of the hall.
"Run!" This was the only thing that Madison could think to say. She picked Brynn up and started to sprint as fast as she could towards the exit, followed by the rest of the family. The group all ran at different paces but it looked promising, the main exit was just down the hall. If they could all get to the end of the corridor, she could hit the quarantine switch and shut the wing down, which would give them some security in the situation. She peered back to make sure everyone was there, which led to the realization of the number of infected they were being chased by. The one had become a small hoard and they were starting to gain on the group. She was a short distance ahead of the rest of the group when she saw it happen. The exact moment that would seal the fate for the entire family. She saw Morgan stumble and then trip over his shoes. He fell hard to the floor and hit the linoleum at full force.
"Morgan!" Carmen stopped and turned to run back to get her son. This was the first motherly thing Madison had seen her do over the past few days, at the same time, it was, in Madison's opinion, the stupidest thing she could have done. Her turning to save her son caused Dennis to turn and attempt to help. Within the few seconds that it took for Morgan to fall and Carmen and Dennis to turn and run back to save him, and for Madison and Brynn to reach their destination, an eternity had passed. She watched the infected pile onto the child, then overtake the parents. She had no idea what else to do, so she lifted the case and pulled the lever to lock down the wing in quarantine. The thick metal wall fell quickly, as it was supposed to. This wall was ensuring the fate of the three people on the other side. It fell to the ground and locked in place. Madison looked at it, almost in a confused state. She knew what just happened, but it all happened so quickly and almost through instinct, that she felt almost confused as to why it happened. She stood there, blocking out the screaming of the infected, the agonizing screaming of a majority of the Hutchison family getting torn apart and made into a meal for a horde of hungry infected and the screeching of the child in her arm as she realized what had just happened to her parents and older brother. It took several moments for it to set in that she had done this. As the screams of the infected slowly dissipated, several moments after the screaming of the living had ceased, she knew for sure that it was done. She looked down at Brynn, still screaming with tears pouring down her cheeks. This was it, she got what she wanted. She was at the exit for the wing. She didn’t expect to only have Brynn with her, but that's how it was now, there was no way she could change it. She walked towards the door, the only light leading to the exit was the illuminated sign and the blinking red lights at the top of the hallways. She'd gotten what she wanted; she got to the exit and, with no plan past this point, it really didn't matter what happened next.
Chapter 17 – Silver Lining
There was a blanket of silence over the hospital as night fell. The minutes ticking away in a mechanical fashion seemed to dictate the angle that the sun would shine upon the ground. Ever since things became what they were, there was always a sense of hope that the sun would decide against its resting place and remain in the sky for as long as it was needed. Of course this would never happen and Mitchell knew it was a stupid thought. He assumed that there was some sort of scientific law that dictated the sun rising and setting, but he had no idea what it was. He was a history teacher, not a cosmology instructor. He didn't know why the sun set, but he knew it did and that each new day was another chance for history to be made. Even in his own mind this sounded incredibly nerdy, but it was who he was. He never expected himself to be a high school history instructor, but he learned how much he enjoyed reading about the things that happened in the past and he quickly decided to preach the word of the social studies textbook. Teaching, to Mitchell, was one of those professions that nobody ever explained the difficulties that would come of it. He wanted to assist in the education of the next generation, not babysit a group of twenty or so kids every hour. He had his fond memories of certain classes, but they were often times blocked by the memories of the horrible classes. The ones where getting through a single lesson was nearly impossible and he was constantly dealing with unruly little hellions that he wished would just drop out so they could start their terrible lives elsewhere. It amazed him how much he could hate a child, which is what they were; children. It didn't matter if they were fifteen or eighteen, they were children, pure and simple. He realized now that most of them were probably in the same situation as Kyle. The poor kid was typically respectful and rarely caused a problem. He did his homework, he scored well on exams; he was an ideal student. 'Well...' Mitchell thought about it. 'Maybe he wasn't ideal, but he was a good kid.'
Mitchell looked at his watch again. The hands still hadn't moved and he wondered why he was even bothering to look. He knew it was broken, but every time he peered down at his wrist he was certain that it would show an accurate number. He shook his head in a sense of annoyance.
“I don't know why I keep doing that.” He chuckled. He moved his eyes around the room to look for a clock. The numbers on the digital clock above the door, the clock that Mitchell was ashamed of himself for not noticing, showed that the time was twenty-eight minutes after eight. Mitchell scrunched his brow for a moment and looked back at his wrist. The shattered glass covered the small arms that pointed to what would be about twenty-eight after eight. He grinned, which turned into a solid laugh. His watch was actually correct this time and he had initially dismissed it. This moment was pure ecstasy for Mitchell. His joyous feeling continued for the remainder of the minute. When he looked back at the clock and saw that it ended with a nine, his moment of happiness faded. He was fairly quick to sink back into his emotionless state. His smile fell to a neutral face. He kept watching the numbers, hoping they would count backwards. When it changed to thirty, he was certain that they weren't going to. It was a painful truth, but the truth nonetheless.
The past twenty-four hours had proven to be one of the most difficult days that Mitchell had ever been graced with. He had gotten to what he thought would be his destination, only to be met with a scene that he had hoped wouldn't have been the truth. His wife wasn't there; the person that was here was not someone that he would have cared to have found. Her story was even worse than his own. He felt that, during this last week, he would have been more than happy to find any one that was alive, but not today. Today he would have preferred to have only found Aria and instead he found Madison and Brynn. Two people that, against all odds, had survived this whole scenario. Two people that he couldn't have cared less if they didn't survive. He felt terrible for thinking this way, but they weren't who he wanted to find. He was glad they were alive, but in the end they didn't matter to him.
“Hey, Mitch.” Mitchell turned to see Darren standing in the doorway. “You OK?”
Mitchell wanted to respond to this question with a yes, but he wasn't even certain how long Darren had been standing there staring at him. Worse yet, he didn't hear him knock, if he had done so, nor had he heard him turn the handle and open the door.
“How long have you been there man? I didn't even hear you open the door.” Mitchell opted to just say what he was thinking. There was no point in analyzing the situation, or bothering to make a joke.
“Just a few seconds. Do you mind if I...?” Darren stepped in and shut the door behind him. “How are you holding up there pal?”
“I've been better, but sleeping on what I guess is a bed and each in our own individual exam rooms, is a lot more comfortable than last night. At least we don't have a psycho downstairs to worry about.” Mitchell chuckled. He was at a point where he had no idea what the next step was, but he was still trying to find his silver lining.
“Yeah, it's like the damn Hampton in here, isn't it?” While this was a classic Darren joke, full of sarcasm and a sharp tone, it lacked the one thing that made his jokes his own. This was the first shot of humor that Darren had shot o
ut that wasn't followed by his own chuckling. The lack of Darren's lively attitude following the delivery seemed flat. “I actually came in here because we need to talk.” He stepped over and sat on the stool by the small desk. Mitchell assumed that it couldn't have been comfortable.
“Alright, what's wrong?” If Darren was going to be serious and get straight to the chase, Mitchell decided he would go ahead and meet him halfway. He hated to think that Darren could actually be serious in a time when they were temporarily safe, it wasn't what he was used to seeing, but there he was.
“I think Kayla's losing it. When I walked into the room earlier today, when we got back from our expedition upstairs, she had the gun in her hand.” There was a pause for response. Mitchell hated these kinds of conversations; he wasn't a therapist.
“She had the gun in her hand? Like she was ready to shoot whatever came in the door?” Mitchell failed to see what Darren was panicking about.
“No, not like that. Like she was considering shooting something that was in the room already.”
“Wait, you mean like herself or Lilly? What the hell Darren?” Mitchell couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Why would you associate her having the gun in her hand with her wanting to kill your daughter? Have you looked around? You do realize that every place we stop is crawling with infected and death is stalking us around every corner. Is it not possible that she was just holding on to it to be prepared in case she needed to defend herself?”
“You know, Mitchell, I would normally agree with you. Any other point in time, I would say the same thing. Unfortunately, I don't and I can’t.” He paused for a second. “When I opened the door she dropped the gun on the table.”