Exiting the hallway proved much easier for the brothers than their battle upon arriving. Most of the approaching zombies were constantly slipping and tripping over the corpses that now littered the floor, allowing the brothers to dispose of them with ease as they progressed. Looking back, though, John saw that the girls had begun to fall behind both him and Moto. They were walking up on a zombie that lay on the ground with a now concave cheekbone, still alive and reaching out toward the little girl. The rapidly rising water which now covered most of the zombie’s face and extended arm prevented either girl from seeing that he had not been incapacitated.
“Look out!” John yelled back to them, but the girls instead turned to look behind them. They panicked and were inadvertently now walking straight into the dead creature’s grasp. John turned and broke into a short sprint. Seeing that the zombie had only inches before reaching the girl’s leg, John resorted back to his childhood days. His baseball slide across the sullied water allowed his boot to reach the zombie’s face and his crowbar to simultaneously slash the thing’s outstretched arm just before it had captured a hold of the girl. He scooped the girl up by her waist and rose back to his feet to carry her the rest of the way. The woman’s eyes were focused down into the water, and she stood motionless, ignoring the damp hair that hung down around her face. Sensing that the mother was in shock, John grabbed her hand and pulled it to his belt under the center of his back.
“Stay with me,” he said firmly while making intentional eye contact. “Don’t you dare let go.”
The woman nodded. John felt the little girl’s arms tighten up around his neck, and he patted her on the back with his free hand as he took off down the hallway. By the time the three had caught up, Moto was already dragging the half-eaten corpse out of the path of the elevator doors.
Moto jumped onto the elevator with the others just as the doors began to slide shut. A zombie appeared from nowhere, and poked its head into the doors, causing them to re-open. John bashed the thing squarely in the face with his crowbar, and sent it toppling back over the dead man at its feet. Once the doors had fully closed and they were all safely inside, John coaxed the little girl into releasing her stranglehold on his neck, lowering her to the floor. He stopped just short of setting her feet down when he realized that he’d almost placed her squarely in the middle of the man’s eviscerated intestines, and instead set her down in the corner by her mother. Moto slapped the button for the lobby and showed the beautiful young woman in the opposite corner a small grin, which was anything but reciprocated. She instead answered his smile with a confused furrow of her brow as she tucked her wet hair behind an ear, and bent to pick up her little girl.
“What happened to Daddy?” the terrified girl managed between sobs.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” the woman said.
“What was he wearing?” John asked in the most comforting voice he could manage.
“His favorite alligator shirt,” the girl answered, turning to make eye contact.
Moto shot John a glance to make sure he had come to the same realization. The blood leaving John’s face showed that he had. The Florida fan whose body had been blocking the elevator…
“Ok sweetie, we’ll watch for him,” John forced a smile.
The doors opened into the Ornelas tower’s lobby, revealing a full-scale evacuation. It was bedlam. Stretchers and beds had been brought down and left by the staff, though now there were no staffers in sight. John assumed that they must have gone to retrieve more patients. It seemed that this was their planned drill in case of emergency, but John couldn’t fathom why they had elected to leave all of these people sitting in the lobby alone given the specifics of the situation. The whole floor was quickly approaching pandemonium, with patients who were unable to fend for themselves screaming out for help or explanation. John motioned for the girls and Moto to follow as he began navigating their way through the maze of patients and toward the front door. As John approached the entrance, he saw that the doors had been barricaded from the outside, and spotted the flashing lights of some emergency vehicles parked just beyond the locked doors.
“C’mon,” John said, grabbing the two girls’ hands. “There’s another way.”
John turned to see a television showing a news anchor attempting to report on a riot in an unnamed city’s downtown. The words scrolling across the bottom of the screen reported widespread panic nationwide, as dozens of cities were suffering identical fates. Moto called on the elevator while John remained glued to the report. The reporter was speaking about possible motivations for the riot when a speeding minivan careened into a zombie which had been staggering up behind her. The newsfeed was cut to a pale-faced personality behind a desk back in the studio. John recognized the man, but he looked different without makeup. The man apologized for the graphic nature of the content, and announced that they would soon be talking with a local man who had been censored for hours while attempting to warn people about the ongoing rabies-like outbreak. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open as the television screen cut to a live feed of Jim sitting in what appeared to be a coffee shop.
“Wait, they’re talking about Jim,” John argued momentarily as Moto held the elevator. Instead, the channel cut to commercial, and John conceded.
“I thought we’d have more time,” John said, punching the button for the sixth floor.
“What is happening?” the woman asked. It was the first time she had spoken since they’d rescued her.
“There’s no way there are enough authorities available to completely shut this place in,” John thought aloud. “There are outbreaks going on all over the world. I know of an exit they won’t have covered.”
“There is a reason no one is using the elevators,” Moto argued. “And especially why none of them are going up.”
“How about a little trust?” John asked.
The elevator rose, uninterrupted, to the sixth floor. Once to the top, John peered out the window to the parking lot and spotted their rental truck. He was right about the authorities. The firemen, police, and paramedics were scrambling just to cover the main exits. The parking lots were completely un-guarded.
“Remember the Batman action figure from when we were kids?” John asked Moto with a knowing look.
“Wait… what?” After a pause, a look of realization spread across Moto’s face. “From the sixth floor, though?” Moto asked.
John started off down the nearest hallway but upon reaching a corner heard the frantic whir of a tiny motor above his head. He and Moto both looked up to see a newly installed security camera aggressively turning left and right before stopping and looking back at the girls. Confused, John rounded the corner to continue on with his plan and again heard the even more frantic whirring of the camera. This time, when he looked up, the camera jerked quickly to the left and slowly spanned back right repeatedly.
“I think someone is trying to tell us something,” Moto said. “I think they want us to wrap around to the left instead.”
John stuck his head out around the next opening to the right where he had been approaching each time the camera had come alive. There, he spotted a horrific scene of blood and gore spread all over the halls with a large group of zombies standing idle.
“Ok, then,” John whispered after he’d ducked back behind the corner. “We go left.”
He began down the opposite hall and again heard the camera moving frantically. This time, it moved up and down as if nodding.
John and Moto ran down the bare halls, grabbing full, blue bags from plastic bins with signs that read soiled linen on one side and ropa sucia on the other. They took one bag after another and tossed them back down the hall toward the girls.
“I don’t understand how you’re planning to escape from the sixth floor,” the brunette said, hiking up the little girl to rest on her hip.
John began entering vacant rooms and returning with armfuls of sheets and blankets to add to their growing pile.
“When we vis
ited mom as kids,” Moto explained, “we would always find new ways to entertain ourselves. Our favorite game was for one of us to ride up to the top of the elevator with our batman action figures. The other would go down to the loading dock where the trucks loaded up the dirty laundry.”
The woman’s jaw dropped and Moto knew that she understood. “You don’t mean…” she started and glanced toward the laundry chute just next to John’s growing pile of laundry. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve got plenty here to cushion the landing,” John said while unloading another armful. “This is our only chance to get out of here. There is no alternative.” He opened the hatch, and began dumping bag after bag down the chute. “Just wrap a couple blankets around your back and one between the wall and your shoes. Then you just push your feet against the wall opposite from your back, and let off a little bit of pressure to start the slide. Think of it like rappelling.”
The woman said nothing, but her furrowed brow again betrayed her.
“It could be fun!” Moto said while wrapping a blanket around his shoulders.
John laid a blanket over the edge of the hatch’s opening. Working as a spotter, John grabbed Moto’s hands as he backed into the hole, butt first. Moto climbed up inside the tunnel, standing on the hatch’s edge, and slowly squatted down even with the door’s opening.
“Show us how it’s done,” John said as Moto shifted his feet over onto the blanket which John had previously placed. As he shifted his second foot, Moto sank into the dark hole suddenly, much more rapidly than he’d anticipated. Reacting quickly, Moto pressed more firmly against the wall and slowed his descent before stopping completely.
“Works like a charm!” he yelled up to John and the girls.
The woman sighed, and a relieved look spread across her face. The little girl ran up and peered down into the shaft.
“I wanna try!” she shouted.
“You two want to go down together?” John proposed, holding up a blanket.
“Made it!” Moto’s voice echoed up. “All clear.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” the woman said as she entered the chute. Once squatted into position, John handed in the little girl onto her lap, facing and straddling the woman like someone being airlifted to a helicopter by a rescue diver.
The woman pressed her feet to the blanket, and didn’t budge an inch.
“Now you’re gonna have to let up just a little bit to actually get down,” John said.
“I’ll do it when I’m ready,” she barked. “I’ll let you know when we’re out of the way.”
“I’m not going down the hatch!” John laughed as he shoved something into the woman’s hand.
John smiled to the lady as her jaw dropped in objection. Losing her concentration, the woman unexpectedly began her descent. A moment later, the thwoomp of the laundry bags echoed up to him.
“Don’t wait on me! I’ll meet you at the truck!” John yelled down before shutting the hatch.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
The woman paused for a brief moment after her long fall down the chute to give her brain time to process the pain that was surely coming. She was embarrassed to not have immediately been concerned for the little girl’s safety, but the girl giggled with excitement. Once the adrenaline had been processed, the woman was able to accept that she too was completely unharmed by the desperate maneuver. Moto helped the two out of the receptacle bin, and waited expectantly for John.
“He’s not coming,” the woman said. “He said he’ll meet us at the truck, and he handed me these keys.”
Moto’s impulse was to ask a clarifying question, though he already knew that the woman wouldn’t have the answer.
“Well, at least we’ve got the keys if he gets his ass killed,” Moto sighed.
Seeing the young girl’s eyes grow wide, he realized she was not old enough for his language and quickly tried to deflect.
“Sorry, uh, what’s your name, sweetie?” he asked.
“Hillary,” she answered in a whimper.
“What a beautiful name!” Moto said while smiling up at the woman. “My name’s Moto. And what’s mommy’s name?”
The little girl responded with a confused frown.
“Oh, no, no,” the woman said. “I’m not her mother. I was just here to deliver flowers. I saw this one sitting in the cafeteria, a whole booth to herself, when everything went crazy. The staff all seemed to know her, but no one was there when everyone started to panic, so I just grabbed her and tried to find someplace safe.”
Unsure of what a proper response might sound like, Moto said simply, “Well, I’m glad you’re both ok.”
Surprised when the woman didn’t offer her name, or a “Thank you for risking your life to come save us,” Moto turned to gain his bearings so he could lead them to the truck. He approached the edge of the loading dock and crouched down behind a stack of Texsun unsweetened pineapple grapefruit juice boxes as he surveyed the area. Miraculously, no soldiers were visible from that side of the tower. To get to the truck, though, they would have to round the front corner of the building and cross near the barricaded front entrance.
“Stay low, and follow me,” Moto instructed as he darted out from behind the elevated loading dock and took cover behind a parked truck. As the girls ran to join him, Moto began to question whether he should leave them behind and just pick them up once he’d reached the truck. A banging rang out above them, and Moto glanced up to see that the three of them were now exposed to the hospital’s upper floor windows. Blood was smeared across two of the patient’s windows. In one of them, an elderly woman was clawing at the glass in vain. Moto couldn’t tell for sure if she had turned, or was only injured. Just as Moto realized that the woman wasn’t the source of the banging, a window from the tower’s second floor shattered.
“Hey, stop!” a thundering voice rang out.
“Go, go,” Moto instructed, sprinting for the front of the hospital. He glanced back to see a man in a security uniform leap from the second floor window onto the cover above the loading dock. Hillary turned and pulled loose from the woman’s hand.
“Daddy!” she screamed, running to meet the guard.
“I was looking everywhere for you! I was so worried when you weren’t in the cafeteria,” the man said as he swept his daughter up into his arms. The woman and Moto walked to meet the man halfway.
“Thank you for rescuing her!” Hillary’s father said while greeting the two with handshakes. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d have lost her.”
Moto noticed a bandage on the man’s arm, blood already seeping through.
“Of course!” Moto responded. I’m just so glad that you’re okay. Hey, I thought you said he was wearing a Gators shirt?” Moto said, re-directing his attention to Hillary.
“Oh, she must’ve been talking about my Lacoste shirt,” the man answered. “That’s what I was wearing when I dropped her off in the cafeteria. I was so worried you guys weren’t going to figure out my camera thing. I felt so helpless, just watching you on the monitors.”
“Oh, that was you!” Moto exclaimed. “That was genius. We might not be here if it wasn’t for you.”
“No, genius was going down the laundry chute,” the father responded. “I was screaming and cussing at you guys from the surveillance room. I had no idea what you were thinking, and you just kept taking Hillary farther and farther from me. When I finally realized what you were doing, man I’m forever indebted to y’all. Speaking of which, where’s the other guy?”
“Oh, he’s coming,” Moto answered. “He’s just gonna meet us over there by the truck.”
As Moto turned to indicate the direction of the truck, he saw a member of the National Guard approaching with rifle ready.
“Stay just where you are,” the man ordered. “We’re going to need you all to come back inside.”
“What the hell for?” Hillary’s father asked.
“We’re just going to screen you and treat
you if necessary,” the guard responded. “We have strict orders to keep you all together so we can contain the infection before it spreads further.”
“Treat us?” Moto laughed sarcastically. “We just came from the lobby. We saw what kind of treatment is going on in there. It’s a death trap.”
Moto pegged the guardsman as a scared kid who had signed on with the National Guard in order to dodge being shipped out overseas where the real danger was. Moto considered taking a risk and going for the man’s gun, which had probably never been fired outside of target practice. As if the man had seen it in his eyes, the guardsman turned and aimed his weapon squarely at Moto.
“If you’ll all just come with me, we can get this all straightened out.”
Over the man’s shoulder, Moto spotted John off in the distance setting down a brindle-colored dog into the bed of their F-250.
“You can threaten us all you want!” Moto said just loud enough so that John could hear him. “You’re just gonna have to shoot me, ‘cause I’m not going back inside!”
The man took a step back and switched off his gun’s safety. When no one spoke, he reached for the radio on his shoulder.
“No!” the woman yelled. “It’s fine. We’ll cooperate. Whatever you need.”
She stepped closer to Moto and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Please, let’s just do what the man says,” she said, while Hillary smiled squarely at John as he approached. “I couldn’t go on living if anything were to happen to you.”
The guard began to lower his gun just as John came into striking distance and pistol-whipped him over the head with the 1911. The guard was out cold before he’d hit the pavement, and Moto quickly retrieved the guard’s weapon.
“Where did you go?” the woman asked, shoving John.
“I had to take care of something,” John said, holding his palms up innocently. “It worked out, right? I assume this guy is with us?” he asked, extending to shake hands with Hillary’s father.
And the Blood Ran Black Page 10