Survival Series (Book 1): Survival

by Hawkley, D. E.

  Dr Harron explained quickly, it seemed as though he wanted to get it all out as fast as possible. Michael and I had decided to brave the elevator shaft to see if there were survivors and to gather supplies. Benjamin was against it, he said he heard things when doing his rounds on his watch the previous night. That something was in the hospital.

  Michael laughed it off calling Benjamin a coward, saying he didn't know how the man had managed to become a security guard. Michael had been a jerk to Benjamin making everything a power struggle, but it had been shrugged off. This time however, Michael didn't let Benjamin shrug it off, he forced Benjamin to climb the shaft with us.

  “I heard screams,” Dr Harron said his voice barely audible. “Then you fell down the shaft, Michael sounded wild and Benjamin was screaming at him to back off. I didn't know what to do, you were unconscious. So, I moved you in here and locked the door.”

  Part of me wanted to thank Dr Harron because he probably saved my life. The memory lapse, however, was unsettling; what has happened between Michael and Benjamin on the floors above.

  “Do you think Michael is dangerous?” I asked Dr Harron. “Do you think he did something to Benjamin?” Dr. Harron nodded; not once, but twice.

  “Benjamin confided in me before you guys went up that Michael had been locked in the Western Wing; that he didn't trust the man and didn't want you alone with him. That's why he accepted to go along,” Dr Harron took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Benjamin was hoping something would get Michael and he could bring you safely back down. I guess his plan backfired.”

  I had to agree with Dr. Harron, Michael was roaming the basement halls calling out our named while Benjamin could not be heard at all. Something had happened on the upper floors, but my brain had chosen to shut out you what exactly. The fall down the elevator shaft should have killed me; would have killed me if I had hit the compression shock shaft.

  My leg throbbed and itched, and I moved slowly, changing positions. I had never broken a home and up till this point I had never been as grateful as I would've been had I known how horrible it really was.

  “Will this heal alright?” I asked Dr. Harron, still whispering even though I could no longer hear Michael beyond the door.

  “I don't know,” Dr. Harron said with a slight shrug. “You were unconscious So I was able to set it, a task I never would have been able to do if you had been awake; at least not without anesthetics. You will need an actual cast and antibiotics, so you don't get an infection.”

  I had considered asking more questions, but a crashing sound caused me to clamp my mouth shut quickly. Michael had either kicked or thrown something against the wall not far from where we were hiding.

  “Where the hell are you?” I heard Michael scream out and then laugh maniacally. “Oh, ho, ho, ho, when this game of hide and seek ends someone is going to pay for it. I do need medical attention Dr. Harron, as much of a coward as Benjamin was, he got me good. Don't you have some oath to follow; some rules about saving people. You didn't save old Benny, but you could still save me.”

  Or he could just save himself, I thought to myself. Seeing the look on Dr. Harron's face, I figured he was thinking the same thing I was. When Michaels voice faded again into the distance, we both breathed a low sigh of relief.

  “He will find us eventually,” I said half-heartedly. “Or we will need to get out to get food or something. We can't stay in here forever.” Dr. Harron pulled out a bottle of water and handed me one. I hadn't realized how parched I was until the first sip touched my lips and I drained the entire bottle.

  “You're right,” Dr. Harron said. “Listen to me Joanne; there will be two kinds of people in this world now. Those who will live because they are selfish and will do anything including kill others to do so and those who will die because they will sacrifice themselves for others to live. Be the third kind, the rare one, do anything you need to save yourself and others without getting yourself killed. You are a good person, you will find your way out of this and find others.”

  I was confused for a moment, why was Dr. Harron saying you and not we? It dawned on me, but it was too late. Dr. Harron grabbed a broom and snapped the handle off heading for the door. I wanted to call out to him to demand he stay, that we would get through this together, but Michael's cries of anger returned. He was drawing closer again; more quickly this time.

  Dr. Harron looked at me and I tried to plead silently with my eyes, but he simply smiled and mouthed the words promise me to live for all of us who didn't get to.

  “I promise,” I whispered as I felt the tears let go from my eyes, running slowly down my face as my vision blurred over. It wasn't until I felt myself falling that I realized I was losing consciousness again. As the darkness swept over me like a wave, I watched Dr. Harron slip out of the room closing the door behind him.

  It was quiet. Silent as the grave, the old saying floated around in my head as I slowly sat up. I felt groggy, like I hadn't slept enough. My leg was sore, throbbing and itchier than ever. I wanted to tear off the makeshift cast Dr. Harron ---

  “Dr. Harron,” I said out loud though I was alone. The last thing I remembered was him leaving the room to confront Michael. Ignoring my leg, knowing id regret it later, I got to my feet, as quickly as I could manage, and hobbled towards the door.

  Pressing my ear against the door I listened quietly. There were no sounds. Nothing loud, nothing faint. Either Michael had killed Dr. Harron or they had killed each other. In either case I knew in my guy Dr. Harron had to be dead; he would have returned if he had lived through the confrontation with Michael.

  Turning the handle, I pulled the door open and listened again. Nothing. Not even the sound of breathing or shuffling. The hospital was a graveyard; cold, silent, and full of dead people. Stepping out into the hallway I wondered how I would navigate the darkness. Leaning against the door frame I felt something press into my thigh, something in my pocket. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out Dr. Harron's penlight. Click the too the little light came to life. Though it wasn't much light, it was enough to see a few feet in front of me.

  I wandered in the direction of what Dr. Harron had called the safe zone, though in reality with Michael there it had never been safe. As I passed room and room, doors closed, locked or empty, I wondered where Dr. Harron and Michael were and then I saw it. The brownish red liquid puddle came into the lights view. I knew what would be further, and though I wasn't sure I wanted to see Dr. Harron dead, I needed to know that Michael was.

  Slowly I moved forward, step-by-step, until a foot came into view, then a leg, a body. It was Michael. The broken broomstick was driven through his back, pushed all the way through to protrude from his front. In front of him pay Dr. Harron, his throat had been slashed; a dropped scalpel lay near Michaels lifeless hand.

  Dr. Harron must have managed to sneak up on Michael and stabbed him from behind not knowing Michael had a weapon. Michael would have had a knee jerk reaction and spun around scalpel up and caught Dr. Harron across the throat. Everyone was dead. Four people, to my knowledge, had survived the deadly attack on the city - one had survived by being selfish, two had sacrifice themselves to protect one.

  Fighting back the urge to cry as the overwhelming sense of loneliness crashed down on me, I continued towards the safe zone. I needed to find a way to get out of the hospital to find other people; if anyone was still alive.

  Reaching the safe zone, which had been the morgue of all places, I began to rummage through Benjamin's things, he wouldn't need any of it anymore. I didn't know if he had anything useful until I found it - his radio. The man had just been hired a few weeks before the bombs had fallen and had not yet been certified to carry a firearm, had he been he likely would have still been alive and so would have Dr. Harron.

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and twisted the power volume button on the radio. Static. I felt my heart leap. The batteries still worked. Pressing the button on the radio the static vanished the line open. />
  “Hello,” I said. “Can anyone hear me?” I released the talk button and waited. Empty static. No response. Switching over to the next channel I repeated my call. “Hello, can anyone hear me?” Again, I waited. Nothing, only the hiss of the static responded to my calls.

  I spent the day cycling through the channels; listening to the empty static, pressing the talk button and calling out for anyone to answer, but no one did. Finally, hunger began to gnaw at me, my stomach growled. I needed to eat, to drink, to find the antibiotics Dr. Harron said I needed. Pushing myself to my feet I felt a tingling sensation in my legs. I caught myself against the wall, stumbling but not falling; my legs had fallen asleep.

  “Hello,” a voice broke through the static. “Is there anyone still out there?” The hiss of the static returned. I stared at the radio in disbelief, was the voice real or had I finally lost my mind. I listen to the static for a moment more before picking up the radio and pushing the button.

  “Hello,” I said slowly. I didn't know what else to say or even if the voice would respond after hearing me. “Yes, I'm here. Are you still there?” I tried not to sound excited because I didn't know who I was dealing with. The empty static seemed to go on forever and I was preparing to call out again when the voice returned.

  “Yes, good god, yes,” the voice said. It seemed he too was staving off excitement as well, but I could hear the relief in his voice. “I am here. What is your name? Where are you?”

  After telling the voice on the other end my name and where I was, I found out his name was Kyle and that he wasn't far off from where I was; just beyond Trinity park in First Ave. Kyle said he was in a bunker, inside what was left of his home. It seemed like me, he was trapped.

  It felt good to hear another's person's voice though. I didn't know what I was going to do with everyone here dead now. This radio had given me reason to push on, there clearly was others who had survived, and Kyle was close by.

  When the static broke again and Kyle returned, he had questions that I had no good answers to. Questions like: is it safe to go outside, is the hospital operational, and, are there any others with you? I answered as best I could, starting with the answer I knew would bring more questions.

  “There is no one with me,” I said, barely above a whisper. “Not anymore at least. As for the outside world, I have no idea. I am trapped in the basement; the hospital stairwell collapsed, and I can't climb the elevator shaft, my leg is broken.”

  “Joanne,” Kyle said breaking the static again. “Is your radio running off the hospital generator?”

  “No,” I said. It was the unfortunate truth. The generator had been in a small building outside the back of the hospital. When the bombs hit, knocking down the upper floors, something must've damaged the generator building. “Only the backup that controls the emergency lights.” However, even as I talked to Kyle, I could tell they too were running low. “The radio, it was the security guards’ radio,” I explained. “I just kept rotating through the channels and calling for help. You are the only one who has answered. But,” I said after hearing a low high-pitched beep. “The batteries are almost dead and given the state of myself and the hospital I fear if I don’t get out of here I might not last much longer either.”

  As I sat waiting for Kyle to respond, the static drawing out the silence, I knew I needed to get out of the basement of the hospital. I needed to keep my promise to Dr. Harron, to be the type of person I promised I would be.

  Dark images flooded my thoughts as I say listening to the static. They were memories, memories of what had transpired before my fall down the elevator shaft. Michael had attacked Benjamin with a scalpel he had tucked up his sleeve. Slashing back and force, pushing Benjamin backwards until he lost his footing and fell.

  Michael had cut out Benjamin's tongue, to keep him from screaming, before he gouged out the young man's eyes. I remembered trying to pull Michael off Benjamin, but I couldn't overpower the man, he was clearly crazy; something had set him off.

  “Joanne,” Kyle's voice broke through the static and my dark thoughts. “You said there were no other people with you; not any more at least. What did you mean by not anymore?”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat as he listed off ways the people with me could have gone. I wanted to push the talk button and tell Kyle everything; to unload it, get it off my chest and out of my thoughts but I couldn't find the words to explain what had happened.

  “It would be a lot easier to explain in person,” I finally said. “If you can get…” a loud beep erupted from the radio and it shut down; the batteries were dead.

  I sat and stared at the radio, the red light having faded to nothing. Tears began to well up in my eyes and my vision blurred. The attack on Benjamin, the death of Dr. Harron, now the loss of the connection to the only other living person I knew of was too much.

  Leaning against the wall I slowly slid down into a sitting position, dropping the radio on the floor, I stared at the wall across from me. For the first time since the world went to hell, I was left in a silence that no voice - save for my own - would break. Burying my face in my hands I felt the tears let go and I cried.

  I was frightened when the bombs fell, frightened when I found myself lost in the basement of the hospital alone. Dr. Harron had found me cowering in a broom closet crying. He got me out of the closet, and we made it safely to the morgue. Benjamin and Michael had shown up a few hours later. I felt slightly better not being alone and now, now there was no one to come through the door; to pull me out of the closer and bring me back up.

  The tears didn't last long. It seemed I didn't have many in me to cry. Kyle know where I am, I told myself. There is still a chance he will come. I need to bring myself up. How could I be the person I promised Dr. Harron I would be if I couldn't stand on my own two feet. And what if Kyle tried to reach me at the hospital, how would it look if he braved the world to find me dead.

  If the worst was to happen and Kyle turned out to be one of the ones who lived by being selfish, I would need all the strength I could manage.

  Pushing myself into a standing position I wiped my eyes on the back of my shirt. The first thing I needed to do if I was going to survive is find the antibiotics and get my leg properly casted to heal. I searched around through the piles of supplies we were able to gather finding the stash of candles, flashlights and finally the antibiotics.

  Popping the top on one of the water bottles, I downed a few of the antibiotics and pulled myself together. I needed to be the person Dr. Harron wanted me to be; I wanted to keep my promise, but to do that I would need to live first. The water was warm, and I never cared for swallowing pills, but I forced them down. Next, I would need food and to find a way to move the bodies of Dr. Harron and Michael. If I showed up and found two dead bodies before getting an explanation, I don’t think I’d trust the living body - Kyle would likely respond the same way.

  The first thing Dr. Harron had suggested we do when we took over the morgue as our safe location was to empty it. You don’t want to smell decomposing bodies. he said. That smell will make you empty your stomach with every whiff. And so, we had moved the bodies to a well vented room in the test labs. I decided that was where I would move Dr. Harron and Michael’s bodies as well; as soon as I ate something.

  As I hobbled around the morgue towards the cooling draw, we had used as a food storage I could hear nothing but the scuffling sound of my feet on the floor and the low pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. Fear of being alone had always been an obstacle for me and more than once had threatened my own survival in my life before the world came to an end. I wondered if it would be a threat to my survival in a world where so much had changed.

  Survival. The word left a bad taste in my mouth as I unpacked some bread and peanut butter packets. Life had never been simple, but it was never a bout for survival, now it was. Working in a hospital I had seen a lot of horrible things happen, things that had happened to the people that came in through the doors; some fighting
for their very life. This however, this was so much different. When the bombs hit the city, the people didn’t run to the hospital, they ran from it, trying to escape the terror that came with a city under fire.

  How many had actually survived the bombs, left to survive in this new world. Of those, how many were actually capable of surviving and how many would become nothing but pawns for those who would sacrifice everything, including other people, to survive. Then again, how many would be like Dr. Harron and Benjamin? How many would give their life to save a young stupid girl who didn’t have the insight to tell who to trust and who not to trust?

  As I hacked at the peanut butter packet, I could feel the tears slide slowly down my face, I could see my vision begin to blur again. I didn’t want to cry, it made me feel weak, but it also reminded me I was human - that I was alive. Dr. Harron could have done so much more than I could in the event that someone ever came looking for help. Yet, for some reason, the Gods seemed fit to take his life and spare my own. Dr. Harron was truly a kind of person all of his own. To keep the promise, I made to him I would have to become someone different from who I was.

  .SEVEN.

  Goodbyes

  The night passed in silence while I was awake but when I dreamed, there was no silence. I was lost in a world burning. In my dreams I was surrounded by screaming people; some people were trying to help others escape the flames, while some, some were pushing people into them. Each time I closed my eyes it felt like I wandered through the burning world of my dreams for days, but it was less than an hour each time.

  After a while I didn't want to sleep. I began to prefer the silence darkness of the hospital morgue to the world of my dreams. Neither world offer comfort though. In the waking world I was faced with the isolation and loneliness, knowing that Dr. Harron and Michaels bodies lay just beyond the door down the hallway. Then, in my dreams, it was the screams and smell of burning flesh.