The Rabid (Book 2): Addendum

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The Rabid (Book 2): Addendum Page 10

by Urban, Ami


  Cyrus’ eyebrows knitted together in the middle of his forehead. “Are you a superhero?”

  I chuckled as Lexi and Brendon pulled themselves back into the stand. “Maybe.”

  “Quit lying, Dood. You’re gonna give the kid a complex,” Brendon said picking up the binoculars.

  I snatched them from him. “Don’t you still need to learn to fire a gun?”

  It was his turn to laugh. “I’m a pacifist. I don’t believe in guns.”

  “Of course, you don’t.” I placed the binoculars to my face to hide the veil of humor that passed before my eyes. He was pretty funny. But before I could laugh, I noticed movement in the trees ahead. “There.” I pointed.

  Lexi brought her rifle to her shoulder, peering through the site to follow my direction. “It’s a doe.” The polyester in her jacket whispered as she steadied her aim. A few moments went by as the deer continued to graze. She looked up and behind her, one ear twitched.

  “Why are you messing with your ear, Uncle Jack? It’s distracting.”

  I stopped scratching at it long enough to wonder the same thing. It was buzzing. Like tinnitus. But I’d never had tinnitus before.

  “I don’t—”

  The blast of a gun shook the ground, vibrating the stand we’d been sitting on. I gripped the edges, my knuckles turning white. A loud and long yell came from somewhere on our left.

  “Someone missed,” Cyrus said. He motioned for Lexi to give him the rifle. She did.

  But I was focused on something else. There was a sound underneath the blast of a gun. It had to do with that buzzing electricity in my ear. But the sound had transformed. It turned into some kind of mewling noise. Almost like a…okay, bear with me.

  Ever played Serious Sam? Remember those guys with the bombs for hands that’d scream until they plowed into you and exploded? It kind of sounded like those. The sound started low, almost like a strange buzz. I hadn’t noticed at first because it just seemed like background noise. But now it’d gotten louder, clearer.

  “I’ll get her,” Cyrus said, raising the rifle.

  Plastering the binoculars back to my face, I followed a line of sight from the deer to around where I thought the buzzing sound was coming from. About two hundred yards from the deer’s grazing spot, a thicket of reeds began to sway back and forth.

  The mewling buzz grew louder. Reeds knocked against each other. I held my breath, tunneling out all other sounds.

  All at once, realization bored through me. It was a howl. A very familiar howl.

  Before I could tell Cyrus about the incoming Biter, the reeds pulled back and a small girl tumbled through, followed closely by a recently-turned victim. Foam dripped in slimy rivulets down its chin.

  I tore the binoculars from my face. “Wait!”

  But Cyrus had already pulled the trigger. The blast filled my ears, ringing sharply enough to hurt. I clapped my hands over them. Like that’d help. Then, I swung my horrified gaze back out to the clearing.

  Time slowed down. The bullet whizzed through the air. I swore I could see the revolutions sending out tendrils of disturbed air. The deer seemed frightened but remained still. Her glittering black eyes almost seemed to ask a million questions. No doubt she had no idea which obstacle to avoid. The Biter and the little girl were behind her and this bullet was rushing toward her front.

  Through the binoculars, I watched the deer turn her head to regard the pair behind her as the bullet clipped her back. Brown fur scattered into the air along with a few droplets of blood. The deer flinched but didn’t move. She was staring down the Biter.

  The rifle clicked next to me. In my periphery, I saw Cyrus lift it once again.

  “What are you doing?!” I groped my arm out, trying to put a hand on his gun, but he jerked away.

  “I’m gonna shoot the zombie!” He sounded more excited than worried about the safety of the little girl.

  My blood boiled. As he posed himself, I watched the Biter chase the little girl closer to the deer. I reached over to Cyrus once more, but he fired anyway.

  The bullet struck the Biter in the left shoulder. It jerked back with the power of the blast but didn’t fall down. Instead, it didn’t even miss a beat, pushing its arms out for better balance, and kept chase.

  The little girl smacked into the deer’s ass, turning around, her mouth a big O. She fell back into the grass. Thankfully, the brush cushioned her body. But the Biter was still stumbling toward them. The deer now watched it with careful black eyes. The second it touched her backside, she reared up on front legs and kicked it square in between the eyes.

  “Oh, shit!”

  I had no idea whether the curse came out of me, Brendon or Cyrus.

  A quick spray of blood shot out of the thing’s forehead as its neck snapped back. The deer, now satisfied with the outcome, bounded off in the opposite direction, leaving the forest.

  The Biter swayed on its feet for a moment, then fell backward straight onto the little girl. She screamed. It was a painful sound. It sounded like the bark of a dog whose vocal chords have been snipped.

  “We have to help her!” I dropped to the ground and felt a dull throb blast through my knee. Ignoring it, I ran as fast as my uneven steps would allow. A few more thuds sounded behind me as the others joined in the chase. The Samoan was already over the poor little girl when we reached her. Brendon knelt down immediately. Raychel crashed into the clearing with the group close behind her. Her hands flew to her cheeks.

  “Are you all okay?” She rushed to Lexi’s side.

  The sickly-sweet smell of decay wafted over me with chilling clarity. It took a moment to get the taste out of my mouth. It coated the back of my throat. Pulling the collar of my shirt up to cover my nose, I surveyed the damage.

  The Biter’s skin was bloated, veiny and a purplish grey. Flesh was missing in large chunks, revealing the gray muscle underneath. A chunky, fleshy wound that looked pretty close to an infected bite had been festering on their neck for who knew how long. I dropped to my knees next to Brendon and checked on the little girl.

  “Hi there,” he said, his tone soft.

  The little girl glanced around briefly, a tear streaking down her dirty cheek.

  “Does it hurt anywhere?” I asked

  She nodded, then pulled her hand out from underneath the body and gestured toward her chest. The elbow of the former person was buried in her side at least an inch. Looked painful. I winced.

  “Okay, Honey. You’re gonna be okay. Just hold on.” Brendon stood up, no doubt trying to figure out a plan of action. I joined him, thinking we had to get the body off of her somehow. I nudged it with the tip of my boot. Was still pretty solid. I leaned over and grasped one leg of the corpse. Brendon seemed to understand and took hold of the other. Then, we pulled as hard as we could.

  And that didn’t work.

  The right leg degloved itself, the skin slipping down to the ankle and bunching up in my hand.

  “Don’t everyone rush to help us at once.” Brendon puffed out a sigh.

  As much as I wanted to barf, I held it in and kept pulling. With a sickening rip, the right leg came detached, causing me to flail backward. Old, coagulated blood splashed onto my cheek and chest.

  “Ew! Ew!” I tossed the leg away from me as if it were a huge, juicy rat, then began furiously wiping my face. “Dead guy blood! Dead guy blood!”

  Well, that wasn’t going to work. Once I’d finished my tirade, I returned to the plan of action. Well, what little of a plan we had.

  “Hey, Chewbacca!” I motioned to the Samoan. “Come help us pull this thing out of here.”

  The man hesitantly approached us. He stood there for a moment, just staring at the ground as if he had no idea what we were asking of him.

  Then, he just stooped forward, pushed a shoulder under the corpse and lifted it onto his back. My jaw dropped again as I watched him walk away to put the body elsewhere.

  “Well, aren’t you handy to have around, Colossus!” I turned bac
k to the little girl. Her eyes were now wide, but she flexed her small legs and arms. I surveyed her for wounds. There were small red bumps on her legs. Crusty scratches covered her cheeks and arms. My eyes drew to the spot she’d pointed to on her side. I could feel the color drain from my face.

  Stuck between her little ribs was a sharp piece of branch. It dripped with sticky blood. I heard voices around me. They sounded close, but somehow tunneled.

  “We should take it out,” someone said.

  I snapped my head around to glare at whoever it was. “That is the worst thing you could do.”

  Brendon began unbuttoning his overshirt. Of course, he was the one who got to take it off. But he was fumbling too long with one of the buttons, so I offered instead. A brisk breeze cooled my forearms as I undressed. Reaching behind my head, I pulled my white undershirt off. Then, I handed it to Brendon who knelt down to the little girl.

  “This might hurt a little. But you’re doing great.” Not wanting to touch the wound more than he had to, he studied it.

  I noticed it was a bit dirty, but the edges were clean and not torn. Blood continued to bubble up around the branch. Hopefully it’d be an easy fix. “What’s your name?” I kept my tone low but cheery while looking at her.

  “Olivia.” Her voice was so soft I had to lean in to hear it.

  “That’s beautiful,” Brendon said, wrapping my t-shirt tightly around her chest to cover the branch. She winced but didn’t cry out. With a groan, he eased his arms under her and lifted her into them.

  Everyone in the group had a job. The Samoan chucked all of the hunting equipment into the trunk of the van. Stilts gathered up the items scattered around the little girl in case we could identify her parents. The rest prepared for the trip back to Bluff.

  21`Q`QA

  Emergency Department Record

  Emerald Bluff Hospital

  [REDACTED] UT, 84512

  [REDACTED]

  PATIENT:Jackson, Olivia

  DOB:[REDACTED]

  WEIGHT:58 lbs

  HEIGHT:4ft. 2in.

  PROVIDER:Dr. B, MD

  MRN:[REDACTED]

  Acct No: N/A

  DOS:[REDACTED]

  CHIEF COMPLAINT:Impaled in thoracic cavity

  CURRENT MEDS:[REDACTED]

  ALLERGIES:Unknown

  SOURCE:Information obtained from surgeon

  MODE OF ARRIVAL:Gurney

  PREHOSPITAL:

  Intervention(s):Field dress of wound to stop bleeding

  HISTORY OF PATIENT ILLNESS:Patient is an 8 YO female who presents with a foreign object in chest. Physician assessment time was [REDACTED]. Nursing notes were reviewed and the following are my comments: The onset time was approximately 1 hour(s) prior. Patient was impaled by branch when an infected individual fell on her. The left fifth intercostal space has a 2 cm laceration. A wooden branch is protruding from the wound about 8 cm. An x-ray revealed a left hemopneumothorax, so I inserted a thoracic tube into her chest. Chest CT showed foreign body pieces in the left pleural cavity.

  A thoracic tube was in place in the left second intercostal space and there was persistent leakage of air. A small amount of bloody pleural effusion exuded from the wound.

  Surgeon’s recommendation is emergency surgery to remove the foreign body. Never thought I’d type that and it wouldn’t apply to someone’s anal cavity. [frowny face]

  File: dailyrounds2-21.avi

  Duration: 8:10:05

  Date: 2/21

  [Static] [Chatter]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  [Clears throat] Everyone? [Crosstalk] Please.

  [Door squeaks] [Chatter quiets down]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Nice of you to join us, Dr. Rutherford.

  [Chair scraping against linoleum] [Thud] [Aluminum scrape]

  B.RUTHERFORD:

  Last Redbull. Need more wings.

  [Chuckling]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Can we all please make sure we’re on time for rounds every morning?

  [Papers shuffle] [Silence]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  First item on the agenda is with Dr. Clark. Dr. Clark, you have the floor.

  [Metallic scrape]

  D.CLARK:

  Yeah, thanks. Everyone needs to start filling out their charts completely.

  L.REYNOLDS:

  I concur.

  D.CLARK:

  I’ve got two guys paws up downstairs with no markings. Pretty sure that’s how outbreak number two starts.

  [Cough] [Murmurs]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Do you have something to say, Dr. Wood?

  D.WOOD:

  No.

  L.REYNOLDS:

  [Pause] Ok.

  M.HARPER:

  The reason why we tend to not complete the charts is because our systems still aren’t one-hundred percent.

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Then you’ll have to ask the patient for their information and write it in. I’ve already done it with Jack’s chart.

  [Papers shuffle] [Silence]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Anything else, Dr. Clark?

  D.CLARK:

  Yeah, I think we need to establish boundaries. Medical personnel shouldn’t be in the morgue while I’m performing autopsies.

  [Pause]

  L.REYNODLS:

  Well, that’s not pract—

  B.RUTHERFORD:

  Yay.

  L.REYNOLDS:

  [Sharp] What?

  B.RUTHERFORD:

  I second that. We’ve had organs go missing before. It’s just better when only two people have a key to the morgue.

  [Silence]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Very well. No medical personnel in the morgue. [Pause] Without prior authorization.

  [Murmurs]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Next on the agenda is medical supplies. [Pause] Have there been any more findings?

  UNKNOWN:

  [Mumble] Nothing.

  L.REYNOLDS:

  We need to expand our search area, I think.

  M.HARPER:

  And maybe the search parties, too.

  [Silence] [Papers shuffling] [Metallic scrape]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Okay, we’ll table that for now. Next on the agenda is doctor-patient confidentiality. [Pause] I’m honestly not sure why we’re going over this again.

  D.WOOD:

  I added it.

  L.REYNOLDS:

  [Pause] Okay. Continue, please.

  D.WOOD:

  As you all know; the Center for Disease Control has been sharing the hospital. Some of you have been asking questions. Let me perfectly clear, here. I cannot tell you anything. Do not ask me questions. I will not answer them.

  [Silence]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Is that all?

  D.WOOD:

  Yes.

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Very well. Next ite—[crosstalk].

  D.WOOD:

  Are you going to acknowledge it?

  L.REYNOLDS:

  I wrote it down. That’s all I’m doing. [Aside] I know this next topic is a sensitive one after yesterday’s events. Dr. Rutherford, are you alright to continue?

  B.RUTHERFORD:

  Say what you’re gonna say. It can’t hurt me any more than it already has.

  [Silence] [Aluminum scrape]

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Yesterday at approximately [REDACTED], an eight-year-old female patient presented with a foreign object impaled through her thoracic cavity. [Papers shuffling] Patient was given an oral dose of dilaudid and taken to the OR immediately. Upon removal of the foreign object, the patient’s BP dropped severely. [Papers shuffling] We did not anticipate the object to puncture the pericardium. Unfortunately, the patient went into cardiac arrest. A crash cart was used to shock the patient [crosstalk]. I’m sorry, Dr. Wood, do you have something to say?

  D.WOOD:

  [Incredulous] Who used a defibrillator for a cardiac arrest?

  [Silence]
/>
  D.WOOD:

  You’re a danger to this hospital, Dr. Rutherford. Do you even have a medical degree?

  L.REYNOLDS:

  [Forceful] It was a mistake because our equipment had malfunctioned.

  D.WOOD:

  And you were the attending? [Pause] Then why didn’t you physically check the patient?

  L.REYNOLDS:

  I did. The arrhythmia wasn’t recognizable by hand. [Louder] And unfortunately, the crash paddles were used, and the patient’s heart stopped. Chest compressions proved fruitless and the time of death was [REDACTED]. Can anyone [louder] other than Dr. Wood tell me what went wrong?

  M.HARPER:

  Well, it sounds pretty cut and dry.

  UNKNOWN:

  We need better equipment.

  [Murmurs]

  B.RUTHERFORD:

  Defibrillation should only be performed on a patient in V-tach. Her cardiac muscle had been weekend by the foreign object, causing a myocardial infarction. I mistook it for V-tach. [Pause] When the paddles shocked her, it stopped her heart completely. It killed her. [Pause] I killed her.

  M.HARPER:

  No, you didn’t. We rely on our equipment for everything. You couldn’t have known.

  D.WOOD:

  This is a good lesson to not rely so heavily on computers. Use your skills as a doctor to determine a diagnosis. Do not use a computer.

  L.REYNOLDS:

  That’s just ridiculous. [Sigh] Humans make errors. Computers don’t.

  D.WOOD:

  Apparently, they do.

  B.RUTHERFORD:

  What the fuck is this dude doing here?

  [Chair squeaks]

  D.WOOD:

  Clearly, I’m here to babysit you.

  [Metallic slam]

  B.RUTHERFORD:

  I don’t need [crosstalk].

  L.REYNOLDS:

  Enough, please. [Pause] [Muted thud] Dr. Clark. Your medical examination results, please?

  [Papers shuffling]

  D.CLARK:

  Patient’s heart showed signs of healed trauma. Either she had heart disease or some sort of heart issue before even coming here. Official cause of death is heart failure. No other investigations required.

  D.WOOD:

 

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