Fatal Reaction, The Beginning

by M A Hollstein

  “My parents own the restaurant,” Jenny said, opening the second door on the right. “They rent out the other apartment units to family and close friends from Mexico.” Jenny stopped not yet entering the room. She looked Amanda up and down. “My parents are going to kill me for bringing in a Gringo.”

  Amanda threw Jenny a bold look. “I’m thankful for your kindness, but I’m no Gringo,” she stated in perfect Spanish. “My abuela is from Mexico.”

  Jenny looked surprised. “Good. That might help you.”

  “Where have you been?” A short, round, woman with wavy black hair grabbed hold of Jenny in a bear hug. “I couldn’t find you! I thought you were attending to your grandmother…” The woman stopped talking when she noticed Amanda for the first time and raked her with her eyes. “Who’s this?”

  “She needed help.”

  “I’m Amanda,” Amanda introduced. “I’m so very thankful…”

  “Get her out of here!” the woman spat in Spanish. She was unaware of the fact that Amanda could understand her.

  “But Mama,” Jenny said. “She needs…”

  “I don’t care what she needs. She’s a stranger. She might be ill. Make her leave!”

  “No, I can’t do that. There are bad people out there. They were going to…”

  “We only have enough food for the family. Make her leave!”

  “Mama, please. She needs our help.”

  The woman made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Heaven forbid your father sees her. Get rid of her quickly.”

  Amanda quickly stepped in and addressed Jenny’s mother in Spanish. “I’ll only stay for a little while. Just long enough to refresh. I’m very thankful for your gratitude.”

  “Take her to get cleaned up,” the woman said to Jenny, refusing to address Amanda. “Your grandmother needs me.” She pushed past them and left the apartment.

  “Come,” Jenny said, leading Amanda to a dark little bathroom with no windows. “We still have running water, but it’s cold.”

  “Is your grandmother okay?” Amanda asked.

  “She’s got the sickness.” Jenny grabbed a small towel from a rack and set it down on the counter. She then lit a candle. “Clean yourself up. Bandages are under the sink.”

  “Oh.” Amanda looked down at the bloody footprints she’d left on the floor. Her mind had been so preoccupied that she hadn’t noticed the stinging pain of her wound until now. “I’ll clean those up. Sorry. I’ll try to be quick. I don’t want to get you in trouble with your father.”

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  “You don’t think he’ll mind?”

  “He went to find my brother. He’s not coming back.”

  Amanda didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have the heart to say anything. Jenny continued, “If he was okay, he’d have returned last night. He didn’t. Mama is in denial.” She turned and left Amanda in the bathroom to tend to her wound.

  ***

  Looking out the window, Ellie realized just how desolate the desert was. Most definitely not the best place to be stranded. But then again, she thought about San Diego County, and how many people lived there. With this so called virus, or whatever the hell it was, Ellie still thought it looked as if people were having some kind of strange allergic reaction, except for the yellow eyes and attacking people thing, she bet southern California would be an utter mess. They’d been saying on the news that the virus was spreading like wildfire. It was probably safer to be in a less populated area. However, on the flip side, being less populated meant fewer supplies. Not to mention it was frickin’ hot in the desert. For the second time, Ellie reached for the old stereo and scanned for stations. Still nothing but static. There was absolutely nothing coming in on AM or FM. Either all of the stations were out, or the antenna of the ancient, beat up, orange and white, Ford pickup truck didn’t work. Both were viable possibilities.

  They’d commandeered the old truck from the dead man’s home they’d ransacked for stale crackers, a couple cans of chili, and as much water as they could carry in Tupperware, cups, and any vessel available. Ellie switched the stereo off. She’d rather not listen to static. The feeling of being cut off from the rest of the world bothered her and the buzzing white noise was a reminder. Plus, ever since she’d seen Poltergeist as a child, the sound of static gave her the creeps.

  The truck suddenly swerved, jutting Ellie from her thoughts. Mike slowed down and drove around a couple of cars left in the middle of the two lane highway. It looked as if they’d collided at some point during the night. Both vehicles appeared to be abandoned.

  “Should we stop and make sure no one is stranded?”

  “No one was in the cars.” Mike glanced back at the vehicles in his rearview mirror. “Keep an eye out for anyone wandering in the desert or passed out on the side of the road.”

  Ellie returned to looking out the window. “What do you think happened to that guy’s wife?”

  “What guy’s wife?”

  “The guy in the house, you know…”

  “I don’t think he had a wife.”

  “He did,” Ellie said, her stomach knotting up. “He had pictures. What if… what if she comes home and finds him like that?”

  “I don’t think that’s likely.”

  “Why not?”

  “The state of the house,” Mike explained. “No food. Newspapers and magazines piled up… my guess is that he was a widower.”

  Ellie thought this over and felt slightly better. She hated the thought of an elderly woman coming home to find her husband’s body. What Mike said made sense. Thinking about it, she hadn’t noticed anything feminine within the house or the furnishings. No flowers, nothing frilly, and most definitely nothing delicate. She hadn’t noticed any women’s clothing. Not that she was really looking. But she did remember seeing men’s clothing piled on a chair in the corner of the bedroom.

  When the truck came to a stop, Ellie opened her eyes. She hadn’t realized that she’d fallen sleep. Mike threw open his door and hopped out. They were on the outskirts of Vegas, cars were everywhere, blocking the road. Ellie hopped out of the truck and caught up with Mike who was standing on the edge of the pavement.

  “Damn it! There’s no way through!”

  Ellie frowned staring at the hundreds of abandoned vehicles blocking the highway. It was as if everyone had just decided to leave their vehicles and walk home. Where did they all go? It was so surreal.

  “Oh my God, Mike!” Ellie shrieked, upon noticing movement. She pointed across the highway. “There’s someone trapped in that SUV! Look!”

  Without saying a word, Mike sprinted around the cars, and hopped over the cement middle divider. Ellie followed. As she struggled to get over the cement divider to catch up with Mike, she could hear the person in the backseat of the black SUV banging on the window. Mike was now standing near the SUV, not moving, when Ellie caught up to him. He shook his head.

  A little girl with blonde braids, pawed at the window. Her golden eyes were barely visible through her white, puffed up skin. There were other people in the SUV, unmoving. Ellie peered into the driver’s side window. The driver’s face was unrecognizable. There was nothing left but a bloody pulp. The little girl climbed over the seat following Ellie.

  “Do you think she did this?”

  Mike shrugged. “Hard to tell.” He glanced at the cars backed up on the highway. “Looks like they were probably stuck here for a while. One of them was probably infected… could of have been her, or it began with the other child…”

  Ellie averted her eyes. She didn’t want to see the other child. “What do we do?”

  “Continue walking…”

  “I mean… about the girl…”

  Mike straightened his hat and turned his back to the SUV. The girl’s clawing became more erratic. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  “There has to be something. We can’t just leave her!”

  Mike began to make his way back towards the truck. “Are you co
ming?”

  Ellie’s heart sank. She turned her attention back to the girl. She put her hand on the door handle. She had to do something. What if there was a way to help her? She couldn’t just leave her there.

  “It’s okay,” she said to the girl. “I’m going to find help.” She tugged at the handle. It was locked. Ellie then tried the driver’s side door. Locked. She ran to the other side of the vehicle. Everything was locked. The little girl followed her, springing from seat to seat, climbing over the bodies of her family, snarling and pawing at the windows. Ellie stopped. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as the feeling of helplessness washed over her. If she were to let this little girl out into the world, she’d spread the infection. Mike was right. There was nothing she could do. She stood there watching the girl, feeling completely helpless. She couldn’t save her. She hadn’t even realized that she was crying until she felt Mike’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  Ellie spun around and buried her head into his shoulder. Not for the first time, Mike took her into his strong arms, and held her close. He then guided her back to the temporary safety of the truck.

  ***

  Bill drove the ambulance as far as he could go. There was no way around the cars blocking the shoulder. He would have to walk the rest of the way to the hospital. At least he was close. Only a couple blocks away.

  After scanning the wreckage for signs of the infected, making sure it was safe, Bill unlatched Benjamin and lifted him from the seat. He began their arduous journey in the direction of the hospital. It seemed an eternity before the building was in sight. He continued to limp, dragging his bad leg. The only thing keeping him going was the hope of finding help for his son. But, step by step, that hope was diminishing. The closer he came to the hospital, the more bodies he came in contact with. By their puffed up skin and distorted faces, Bill knew they died from the infection. The same infection his son had. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but he believed this virus was an act of terrorism. It had to be. There was no other logical explanation he could come up with. What else could cause such devastation? Either that or the CDC, Center for Disease Control, screwed up and accidentally let this thing loose in the US. He couldn’t imagine that there were any benefits to the government for purposely killing everyone off. Without the little people, there was no one left to govern. Unless, of course, it wasn’t meant to kill off this many people.

  Shaking his head, Bill told himself again, not to jump to conclusions, and not to waste too much energy thinking about things that he had no answer to. Right now he needed to focus his energy on saving his son.

  Upon arrival, Bill had tried the front doors to the hospital. They were locked up tight. Bodies were scattered both inside and outside of the building. Following the signs that were pointing him in the direction of the emergency room, he worked his way around to the back of the building. Above a glass door was a sign in big red letters that read, EMERGENCY. Bill yanked on the door. It didn’t budge. That too was locked up tight. He tried to peer in through the tinted glass, but couldn’t see anything.

  Setting Benjamin down in the shade near the door, Bill banged on the glass. He looked up at a sign near the door; Gun Shot Wounds, Stab Wounds, Road and Traffic Accidents, Trauma, Asthma, Diabetic Crisis, Hypertensive Crisis, Cardiac in Patient Crisis, Acute Abdominal Pain, so forth and so forth. Bill frowned and banged on the glass some more. “I have an emergency here!” he yelled. When nothing happened, he went in search of something he could use to pry the door open. He came this far and had no plans of going back without finding help. Someone had to be inside.

  He wandered around the outside of the building until he came to the ambulance drop off. There were no ambulances. All of the vehicles must’ve been deployed. Bill stared at the overhead lights of the overhang. They were dim and running off noisy generators. To his dismay, he found more bodies. Many were medical staff. Stepping over them, Bill was able to make it to a door that easily pushed open leading to a long hallway. He made it. He was inside.

  Working his way down the hall, past many closed doors, his stomach kept tightening and releasing with anxiety. He stopped walking when he saw the blood, lots of blood. The carnage was everywhere. Bodies were everywhere. The stench of death was overpowering. Bill clutched his stomach, bent over at the waist and began to dry heave. Feeling faint, he leaned against a wall until he was able to regain control over his reflexes.

  Upon finding the Emergency Room, waiting room, Bill worked his way to the front desk. He picked up the phone. No dial tone. He could see Benjamin through the front glass door, propped up in the corner, where he’d left him. It took Bill a moment to figure out how to unbolt the door. When he did, he scooped up his son and brought him inside. He laid him across two orange padded chairs in the waiting room before going in search of medical staff, if there were any left alive.

  Chapter 20

  Staring at the small black and white TV monitor in the security room, Liam had been surprised to see movement. It’d been hours since he’d last seen any signs of life. However, this was different; this man didn’t seem to be infected. Not yet. He watched the man drag one of his legs. He was obviously hurt.

  Curious, he watched as the man fumbled with the locks on the Emergency Room door. Once he figured out how to unlock it, he carried in a child and laid him across a couple of chairs. Just then, the door to the small room opened and a woman entered. “I think we have a problem,” he said to her, not taking his eyes off the screen.

  The woman joined him in front of the monitor. “Is he infected?”

  “Doesn’t appear to be.”

  “Have we been noticed?”

  Liam shook his sandy blonde head. “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Good,” she said. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  “He carried in an unconscious child.”

  The dark haired, heavy set woman became curious, moving closer to the screen. “If the child was infected, he wouldn’t be unconscious,” she said. “He’d be losing control…”

  “Maybe he’s past that stage.”

  “Then he’d be dead. Zoom in.”

  Liam did as instructed.

  The woman studied the boy’s chest and then his face. “I can’t tell if he’s breathing with the quality of these monitors…”

  “The man was careful when he set him down.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Humans are sentimental over the dead.”

  “Yes.” Liam tapped his chin. “But perhaps he’s what we’ve been looking for.”

  “Look. He’s infected,” the woman stated, tapping on the monitor. The picture quality was grainy, but the tell-tale symptoms were still apparent. “Even with his eyes closed, I can still see the swelling and distortion of the flesh. He’s dead.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Liam said. “I think his chest is moving.”

  The woman stood there, her lips clamped tightly together, quietly thinking this over. “I’d need to get a closer look.”

  Liam agreed with her assessment. They wouldn’t know for sure without a closer look. But the longer they stayed in the hospital, the more chances they took of getting caught. It wouldn’t be long before someone realized they’d removed their tracking devices. “We’ll have to move quickly. It won’t take long before we’re noticed. They have eyes everywhere.”

  The woman nodded. “I understand the risk involved.”

  “Susan, if we’re caught…” Liam swallowed hard. “The consequences…”

  “Then we won’t get caught.” Susan turned on the heel of her shoes and left the room. Liam followed after her.

  Chapter 21

  Not wanting to take advantage of their hospitality, Amanda accepted the pair of sandals Jenny had given her, a bottle of spring water and a package of corn tortillas. Jenny had snatched the tortillas and water from the storage room. She’d handed them to Amanda as she ushered her out the back door. Amanda was positive that Jenny would be
scolded for the generosity if her mother found out.

  The sandals were two sizes too small, and her toes and heels hung over the flimsy rubber sole, but it was still better than not having shoes at all. The bottom of Amanda’s foot stung with every step she took, reminding her of the injury. Amanda stood still, putting most of her weight on the opposite leg and scoped out her surroundings. She wasn’t sure where to go. She looked through the gate searching for the infected man that’d chased her earlier. Everything was eerily quiet again. There was no sign of him or the hoodlums. After a moment of uneasy silence, Amanda gathered up her courage and unlatched the gate. The sound of the squeaking metal as the gate swung open rang loudly in her ears. She stood still and waited before closing the gate behind her. Nothing jumped out at her. Nothing moved. Nothing happened at all. With soft, gentle steps, Amanda made her way to the street and stopped. If there were any signs of danger, she’d run back through the gate and beg for Jenny to let her inside. Not that she’d be much safer inside. Since Jenny’s grandmother was infected, it probably wouldn’t be long before they all came down with it. She hoped Jenny’s mother was being careful and knew what she was up against. Maybe she should have said something. Not that anyone would have listened to her anyway.

  For a moment, Amanda stood on the street corner, hugging her bottle of water and package of tortillas to her chest. There wasn’t a soul about. No signs of the living or the infected. Not even the chirping of birds. Nothing.

  She figured she could do one of two things. The first was to keep looking for someone to help her. The second was to head back home on her own. If she could just make it home, she’d at least have shelter and her belongings. Right now, she felt she was just wasting time. If she’d decided to walk straight home from the hospital this morning, she could’ve been almost home by now. There was enough food in her pantry to last at least a week. Maybe longer if she rationed. Most of the food in her freezer and refrigerator would need to be tossed out. She’d make sure to use up the perishables first before touching anything in the pantry. At least she’d have time to think about what to do next in the comfort of her own home. And who knows? Maybe life will look better and sort itself out in a week or two. Amanda looked down the vacant street and frowned. Unfortunately, she was a good ten to eleven miles from home. And she’d have to go past the hospital again and then walk down the freeway. She wasn’t quite sure how long it’d take to walk that far. Driving, took ten minutes with no traffic. Walking, she hadn’t a clue, especially walking in sandals that were way too small and an injured foot.