Keith finished his last rounds at midnight then made his way up to the fifth floor to check in with Amelia, who would be handling the night shift. He briefed her then went to the empty patient room that she had just vacated. He would be back on duty at six a.m. but they would all be working long days until the crisis was over.
As he looked out the window of the room, he began to wonder if there would ever be an end to the plague. He could see an orange glow as parts of the city burned and he wondered just how far the fires would spread. The city was in chaos, with wrecked cars everywhere, sometimes piled up on top of each other. Shadows could be seen moving on the street through the smoky haze, but they belonged to nothing alive. Two streets over, an ambulance sat abandoned with doors open and emergency lights flashing.
Keith had hoped to see the military step in and take charge of the city, but there had been no sign of that happening. One of the bikers had tried to get information on the internet but it was only working sporadically and what they could find on the TV was vague and conflicting. It wasn’t just Lansing, either. The announcer had made it clear that other cities had suffered outbreaks as well. Acapulco and Veracruz, Mexico had been hit as well as Salt Lake City, but the biggest occurrences were in Central America and Colombia. Viewers had been warned to stay away from anybody that appeared to be infected, and those that were in one of the hot spots were told to stay inside and lock their doors or make their way to a shelter. Twice, a news report had been cut off in the middle just when it was starting to get interesting.
Keith didn’t like it. It stank of censorship. He took one last look at the dying city before turning away and collapsing onto the bed. He had another long day ahead of him in a few hours.
~*~
The cow was just as surprised as Eric was, stumbling as Eric’s large body slammed into it. It ended up falling over onto its side as Eric tumbled over the frightened animal and onto the ground. As the bovine beast got to its feet and trotted off, Eric brushed himself off and returned to the house, embarrassed, but glad that his escapade had no human witnesses. Locking the doors behind him, he descended the stairs to the basement and walked down the hall to the rec room.
“We need to get some rest,” he told the children. “We’ve got to get your mom to a hospital tomorrow.”
Jon frowned. “They were saying on TV that most of the hospitals are closed.”
“I know of one that’s still open,” Eric smiled.
The boy wrinkled his nose and looked at Eric. “You smell like cattle.”
Eric’s smile disappeared. “Go to sleep.”
~*^*~
~20~
Keith woke with a start when he felt a hand on his back. He rolled over quickly, ready to swing, but it was just Amelia.
“Damn, you scared the shit out of me,” he said, sitting up. “Anything new?”
“We just lost another patient,” she replied, speaking rapidly as she always did. “The electricity is going on and off. It was off too long and,” she snapped her fingers, “that was it.”
The woman was a tiny bundle of energy. Keith watched her buzzing around the room as he tried to wake up and he wondered how she could be so lively this early in the day.
“Someone on life support?” Keith asked, rubbing his eyes.
“Yes, up here on the fifth floor,” she said, stepping over to look out the window at the undead below. “Maybe he’s lucky. He doesn’t have to see all this terrible stuff that is happening.”
“I have the feeling we’re going to be losing more patients if this keeps up,” Keith said, standing up and stretching.
“Probably,” Amelia said, stepping away from the window. “I’m going to the fourth floor for a while to help out in Pediatrics.”
“All right. I’ll be fine on the third floor. I’ve got Marla to help me.”
They both laughed then Keith headed off to do his rounds.
~*~
The rumbling in Snake’s stomach reminded him that he had skipped breakfast. He had been helping to keep the dead back while several of the bikers dug the trench for the footing of the wall. The decision had been made to move forward with it once it had become obvious that no help was coming anytime soon. The crowd of infected outside the hospital was increasing by the hour, making it critical to get the wall up quickly. The digging was hard work but it was made more difficult by the hordes of dead that seemed to be drawn by the noise of the shovels. Someone had finally come up with the idea of using a wall of cars as a buffer around the work area. It helped but it wasn’t enough and one of the bikers suggested trying to lure the dead to the back of the building. Some of the older children and teenagers were put to work, yelling out the back windows. This worked well, though it also seemed to draw even more attention to the building than there had been before. Snake hoped that wouldn’t be a problem later, but if it allowed them to finish the wall, it just might be worth it.
The infected were able to crawl over the cars but it took them a while, and the guards were usually able to push them back or kill them as they came over. When the first twenty foot section of trench was finished, Moose mixed the concrete using a small mixer that they’d picked up with the other supplies. He poured out that section while the others continued digging. When it was poured to the desired level, he set the first row of block slightly into the concrete, making sure the block was level and square. A vertical rebar protruded from the footing every so often for added support. He continued this routine each time a twenty foot section was finished.
Several more trips were made to the home improvement store until they had enough materials to finish both walls. The only thing they were missing was a gate.
When the entire trench was finally poured, and the first course was set, most of the men went inside to eat breakfast, leaving Snake and a handful of guards outside to keep the dead from climbing over and disturbing the new concrete. After a little more than an hour, Moose figured that the concrete was hard enough to handle some weight. They added a few more bodies to the burning pile they’d started earlier then went inside.
“I need more duct tape,” Moose told Snake.
“I already gave you everything I could find,” Snake said. “What are you using it all for?”
Moose held up his hands to show fingers that were individually wrapped in duct tape.
“Okay,” Snake said, waiting for an explanation.
“Got used to doing it this way,” Moose said. “It’s cheaper than buying gloves all the time. Cinder block is rough on the hands.”
Snake laughed and said, “I’ll have one of the boys check Doune’s lab. Seems like I remember seeing some in there.”
Snake headed in the direction of the cafeteria, knowing that there were always leftovers in the fridge. His journey was interrupted when he heard several shrieks coming from a waiting room. Snake shot into the room, fully expecting another confrontation with a creature that had somehow slipped past the quarantine. Instead, he found a crowd of children gathered around a member of his crew that he recognized as “Monkey,” who was living up to his moniker by flipping through the air, almost effortlessly.
Monkey had sometimes entertained children with his acrobatic skills when the group had visited the local homeless shelters. He had been an accomplished gymnast as a teenager, and his given name had even been mentioned among Olympic hopefuls, until drugs and alcohol had turned his life in a darker direction.
When Snake had found him, Monkey had been homeless and destitute. Snake had introduced him to a Higher Power, which had turned his life around and had given him the motivation to turn his back on his destructive lifestyle. In time, Monkey had joined Snake’s posse, dedicating his new life to helping others.
Snake watched as Monkey jumped into the air and twisted his wiry frame as he flipped backwards and landed perfectly on his feet. The children roared in approval and clapped as Monkey finished with a bow. His smile disappeared when he caught Snake’s eyes.
“Sorry, boss. I know I
’m supposed to be working but I thought the kids needed a little break.”
Monkey started to walk away to continue his chores but Snake put a hand on his shoulder.
“I’ve got a better job for you. Entertain the kids.”
The smile returned to Monkey’s face as he moved back to the center of the room.
“Who wants to see a double front flip?”
Several hands shot into the air and for a time life seemed normal.
~*~
When morning came, Eric loaded some essentials into his compact police car. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get all four of them in the smashed sedan, but he had no choice. He squeezed the children and the still-catatonic Cheri into the car and drove. There was no sign of zombies until they entered the freeway and then sightings were sporadic.
“Eric?” Marie asked. “Can you roll up the windows? I’m cold.”
She was right, Eric thought. The heat wave was over and the early morning was actually almost chilly, made worse by air blowing into the broken windows of the car. Glancing at the windows, Eric had another concern. The trip into town was sure to hold some close encounters.
“Kids,” Eric said as something caught his attention on the side of the road, “have you ever ridden in a fire truck?”
~*~
“We’ve lost another patient,” Dr. Sharma told Dr. Doune as she sat down at a table to eat breakfast with him.
“Pediatric?” Doune asked, knowing that it was the woman’s specialty.
“Fortunately, no. I was helping out in ICU,” she explained. “It was because of a power outage.”
“I thought that the generator was supposed to come on when the power goes off,” Doune said. “Isn’t that the point of having it?”
“Yes, but from what Jack says, it’s old and needs a lot of work. He said that the maintenance men used to complain about it but the board of directors didn’t want to spend the money on a new one.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Doune said taking a bite of scrambled eggs. “So they just gambled on the hope that the generator would be good enough to get them through a short-term power outage and hoped that a long term solution would never be necessary. That’s two deaths so far, but there will be more.”
Dr. Sharma looked at him in question.
Doune continued. “We have patients that were scheduled to transfer to other hospitals for specialized surgery that can’t be done here. Obviously we will not be able to move them.”
“Can’t you or Dr. Chan perform the surgery?”
“No,” he said. “One of them was scheduled for a heart transplant and the new heart is not here. The others, perhaps, but keep in mind we don’t have an anesthesiologist and we also don’t have much blood on hand for transfusions. On top of all that, with our electricity going out sporadically, I’ll be surprised if we don’t lose more patients.”
“I wonder if the other hospitals are still open,” Dr. Sharma mentioned as she stirred her coffee. “At least two were overrun completely yesterday. We haven’t heard from any of them yet today.”
Doune hadn’t heard this. “This could end up being much worse than we thought it would be,” he said. “I assumed that the military would move in and contain it quickly but we may be past that point.”
“I am afraid you may be right,” Dr. Sharma said. She had finally gotten through to her family in India. So far the plague hadn’t reached them but were worried about her. From what they had told her, the only reports of outbreaks were coming from the Americas. Other countries were scrambling to try to prevent a similar epidemic within their own borders.
~*~
Dr. Sharma checked on the only baby that was still in the nursery. The others had all been moved into rooms with their mothers. Some of the women were already up and able to care for their infants while a few of them needed assistance. The nursing staff was spread thin but several of the new mothers had family or friends with them to help out. These visitors had been in the hospital when disaster had struck and most of them had been put to work, either helping the mothers or doing other jobs that needed to be done. The nursery’s sole occupant was a premature baby that had been born addicted to crack. The child had been there for almost a month. The mother had been hooked on drugs when she had given birth and had quit coming to see the child after only one visit. CPS had already gotten involved, considering the child abandoned. If the infant survived, she would end up in foster care, but Dr. Sharma wasn’t even sure the child would make it. She had gained some weight and her health had improved but she wasn’t thriving.
There was a knock and Dr. Sharma turned to see two older women standing outside the large glass window of the nursery. She recognized them at once as the spouses of the two male patients that had died during the power outages. One seemed to be an emotional wreck while the other, Joan, seemed to be more under control. Dr. Sharma stepped out of the room to speak to them.
“Dr. Sharma, Lillian and I would like to volunteer our services,” Joan said. “We both need something to keep us busy and to keep our minds off of everything.”
“That would be wonderful,” Dr. Sharma said, thinking quickly. “You know, we have about a dozen babies here, and I’m sure that some of the mothers would like some help, even just rocking them now and then so the mothers can sleep. And this one in here,” she nodded toward the large window of the nursery where a lone bassinet could be seen on the other side. The infant was wearing a pink cap and had several tubes and wires attached to her body. “I have to warn you, she may not survive, but she needs all the care we can give her. Sometimes just having someone hold her seems to help.”
Lillian managed a slight smile and Joan agreed at once. It would be perfect, she thought. What better way to try to dull the pain of death than to embrace new life?
“If you’d like to come with me, I’ll show you where to scrub up so you can hold the baby. She’s about ready for her morning bottle.”
Within a few minutes, both women were fawning over the child and Dr. Sharma knew that they would be kept quite busy. She left with a smile.
~*~
Snake watched from the second floor as one of his men threw a flare into the pile of bodies. The ghouls seemed to ignore the growing flames as they continued to scale the heap of burning dead in an attempt to reach the living above them. Snake wondered if they could feel the pain of the fire on their skin. Maybe the desire for living flesh was so powerful that they were able to tune out their other senses, if they had other senses. The crackling of the blaze did much to drown out the moans of the living corpses and the fire almost seemed relaxing. Had there not been a breeze to carry away the smoke, the smell of burning flesh would have been unpleasant, to say the least. Scanning the surrounding area, Snake could see that the zombies were now everywhere and many seemed to be drawn toward the inferno. Even with the double row of cars acting as a temporary wall, the dead managed to climb over and come into the parking lot.
“Are they doing what I think they’re doing?” Jack asked, standing next to Snake.
“I think they’re trying to get at us by climbing on the dead ones,” the biker replied. “Lucky for us, they don’t know they’re on fire.”
They watched as zombie after zombie scaled the burning pile and burst into flames.
“This could work for us,” Jack smiled. “If they keep this up, we could rid this whole area of zombies without wasting a single bullet.”
“That’d be nice,” Snake said. “Maybe once the wall is done, we can find a better place to burn them that isn’t so close.”
“How long will it take them to finish the wall?” Jack asked.
“A few days,” Snake said. They had several people that were going to be working on it, but it was going to be a big job. He squinted at something in the distance. “Is that a car?”
He squinted at something in the distance. “Is that a car?”
Jack looked down the road where movement could be seen. “I’ll be damned,” he r
eplied as it moved closer. “It’s a fire truck.”
They watched as the truck sped down the road, plowing over scores of hapless zombies along the way. Barely slowing down, it slammed through the line of cars and screeched into the parking lot, swerving violently from side to side. Yelling could be heard from the observation room a few stories up as the fire truck rolled through the new concrete on the way in, taking out several pieces of rebar at the same time.
“Moose isn’t going to be happy about this,” Snake said with a sigh.
Jack could make out at least two figures in the front seat of the fire truck. He was trying to get a better look at them when his radio suddenly keyed up.
“Boss? You still there?”
Jack heard the voice and groaned.
“Eric? Please don’t tell me that you’re still alive.
“Looks like I’m just in time too, Boss.”
He pulled up to the burning pile. After fumbling with some levers, he jumped from the truck and pulled out a two inch hose. He flipped a lever at the outlet and proceeded to douse the fire while pushing back the undead that got too close with the powerful streams of water. He smiled as he heard what he thought was cheering from the open windows on the second and fifth floor. Had the sound of the gushing water not drowned out the cries, he would have heard words like “idiot” and “moron.”
Yep, he thought, time for everyone to meet the new and improved Eric Wapowski.
Eric dropped the hose when the fire was out then returned to the cab. He drove to the front door, knowing it wouldn’t take long for the zombies to make their way over to the fire truck.
“I’ve got two children and a woman in need of medical attention,” he radioed.
“My guys are on it,” Snake said to Jack, already speaking to his men on the bottom floor via telephone.
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