After the Day

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After the Day Page 3

by Matthew Gilman


  The groups dispersed to their various jobs and started to work. Tom looked in the break room and grabbed some food to eat. Tearing open the wrapper of a Snickers bar he took a bite and savored the sugar on his tongue. He sat back in his chair and relaxed under the single halogen bulb that lit the room. He set the bar down on the table and pulled a paper wrapped packet of bullets out and loaded the rifle that would be with him indefinitely. The door opened and in walked a doctor that he recognized. She stood out because of her beauty. Quiet, she never spoke to anyone that didn’t involve the job. Tom could tell she was Persian, around the same age as him. He remembered she was pregnant about a year or so back. Today he couldn’t tell she ever had a child. Her shiny black hair and large dark brown eyes always caught his attention.

  “How is your kid?” He asked closing the bolt on the rifle.

  She hesitated for a minute looking at the rifle then him.

  “Sorry, this is still new to me, what‘s happening.” He didn’t mean to startle her.

  “He’s good,’ she replied.

  He never knew what the sex was. Unlike the nurses and other employees of the hospital the doctors kept their lives private and nobody knew what happened with them. He remembered how the dates and times as well as pounds and length of new babies of the department staff were posted near the main desk.

  “So it was a boy,” he said.

  She nodded and looked at the food on the table. He was interested in seeing what she would pick. She glanced at his Snickers bar and grabbed the same thing.

  “You might want something more nutritious,” he said looking at the other food available.

  “This will be fine,” she said opening the bar.

  He stood up and looked at her. He swung the rifle over his shoulder and headed to the door. He stopped and turned around.

  “I might be across the street for a while. Would you mind bringing me food when I’m hungry?” he asked.

  She looked at him while he asked it.

  “Why me?” was her only response. It didn’t sound worried or scared, more curious.

  “I need to remember why I’m doing this. See a kind face. I’d like your company.”

  He left the room. He didn’t wait for an answer. If it was her with the food, that would be the answer. For now he was good for a day, maybe more.

  He used the tunnel to get to the parking ramp that overlooked the ER entrance. Using the stairs he realized the extra weight that he carried. Soldier’s in battle carry more gear than he was, complaining was not an option. Reaching the top of the ramp he pushed the glass door open and scanned the top level with his rifle at his shoulder. It was quiet and empty. Cars sat lined up. It looked like an average day at work with no spaces available. Moving to the south west corner he looked over the side and had a perfect view of the ER doors and the helipad. The ambulance entrance was directly across from him, chairs and tables covered the windows and doors limiting the access to the building. EMS hadn’t been running for a few days now. Anybody who came to the ER was driven or walked from areas around town. One woman had been shot by a home invader and was brought in by her kids in a wheel barrel. They pushed her almost two miles from their home.

  The streets were empty. He pulled his bag off his back and opened it to sort the contents for the hours and possibly days ahead. He counted the food again, mostly candy and protein bars, some trail mix and bags of tuna. He wore four ammo pouches on his belt and had thirty extra rounds of 7.62x 39mm for the scoped SKS that he owned. He had two more 25 round boxes in his bag. The radio he kept against the concrete wall that would protect it from incoming fire. He pulled a knit cap out, black and well worn. The temperature had been dropping to high 50’s low 60’s the last couple of nights but he would be fine.

  He grabbed the radio and turned the dial to set the channel.

  “ER the eagle is perched, over.” He felt like such a dork.

  “Doorman here, coming out, over.”

  Tom saw a uniformed security guard exit the ER doors and set up a guard post with the 12 gauge shotgun that Tom had brought with him.

  “I see you, so far all clear.” Tom said scanning the streets.

  Hours went by. Tom could see people moving blocks many blocks away. Sometimes he heard gun fire in the distance. He didn’t like it. Things had broken down and now he was looking down at a surreal world. Everything looked the same at first but people were acting crazy.

  The sun was starting to set and the street lights were no longer coming on. The lights inside the hospital worried him, a beacon of resources that others would want to steal for themselves.

  The guards had changed shifts and a different guy was posted outside. Tom noticed a group of three guys walking down the street towards the hospital.

  “Doorman, there are three men approaching from the west. I can’t see if they are armed yet. I’ll keep you updated, over.”

  “Copy that,” the guard said.

  Tom leaned into the SKS and tried to see better through the scope. Without the lights he couldn’t see much but the movement. He saw that one of the guys had a long arm, some light in the distance reflected off metal. He didn’t know if it was a blade or a gun but it was enough.

  “Doorman they are armed.”

  Tom watched the guard look at the shotgun and press the safety off.

  Tom kept the three men in his sight, then they separated and moved in different directions. They were looking to surround the ER.

  “Oh shit,” Tom said to himself. The grabbed the radio.

  “Doorman, get inside. Grab back up. It looks like they are trying to move in. I’ll take care of them from here. Over.”

  The guard didn’t radio back, instead he moved inside right away. Tom turned the safety off the SKS and had one of the guys in his sight. He could tell it was a man, maybe middle age. He waited, he needed a reason. Then the man gave it to him. He watched the man raise a gun and heard a crack in the air. Then Tom exhaled and pulled the trigger. The man fell and stopped moving.

  Tom heard the other two men yelling. He saw movement coming from his side of the street by the helipad. Open space, should make his job easier. He saw the movement again. The guy was trying to use the bushes to cover his movement. Bushes are not bullet proof. He saw the man peak over the bush looking for a way to the ramp. Tom aimed and dropped him with a round to the chest.

  Tom looked for the third man. He couldn’t see him. He grabbed the radio.

  “Doorman, do you see the third man, over.”

  Static followed for a few seconds.

  “Eagle someone here thinks he entered the stairwell to the ramp, over.”

  Tom put a full magazine in the SKS and moved behind the closest car. He watched the door to the stairway and waited. Sweat dripped down his face and his hands felt clammy. He tried not to think about the two men he just killed. Minutes went by. Then he heard the squeak of the door. The sun had set and only the stars and moon lit the night. He could see a mass moving at him. Either he was a large man or the shuffling of his feet was something else.

  “I have one of your doctors here. Put your gun down.”

  Tom didn’t know if the man was able to see him or not. His eyes adjusted and he could make out the two separate bodies. The man had a pistol to a woman’s head. He knew it was the doctor he talked to earlier. He read her name badge, Fatima.

  The man turned and was looking around the ramp. He had to make a clear shot. He didn’t care what the man wanted and after killing two of his friends there was no way the guy was going to leave peacefully. Tom grabbed an extra round from his ammo pouch and threw it out by the cars opposite of his position. The clanking and rolling of brass on the concrete made the man turn and move looking for the sniper that aimed at him now.

  Aim small, miss small. Tom squeezed the trigger and the crack of the rifle echoed through the surrounding buildings. It never seemed to disappear. Tom waited for a second and came out from behind the car. Fatima moved a few steps forward. Tom gues
sed she was in shock. She was shaking and staring out into the dark.

  Tom moved to the man first and kept his rifle aimed at the body. He kicked the gun away from the body and saw the exit wound on the opposite side of the man’s head. There was no way he was still alive. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and walked up to Fatima.

  “Fatima, Fatima, hey, you’re ok. You’re not hurt.” He placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “I want my boys. Where are my boys? Where are my boys?” She kept repeating looking into his face.

  “We will get you to your boys. We will get you there.” He held her as she cried and sobbed. She clung to him. He felt her tears soak through his shirt. The radio crackled in the distance. He moved her to the car and sat her on the hood.

  “Wait right here, I’m not going far.” Tom grabbed the radio.

  “Eagle here, third man down. I also have Fatima here. She’s shaken up, possibly in shock. I need to either get her back to the ER or have someone check her out. Over.”

  “Tom, its Hartman. I’m pulling the plug. We’re going home. I’ll be over to check

  Fatima. Everybody is coming over through the tunnel.” The radio went silent.

  Tom tried to keep Fatima calm and waited for the ER staff to start coming out of the stairwell. As they emerged he noticed the bags that were loaded with antibiotics and other medications. Some even had extra IV tubing and bags of saline that they hauled out, just in case. The little pharmacy supplies that were left in the ER were gone. Tom was sure pockets were filled with narcotics, not for personal use but for friends and family in case something happens at home. People were thinking ahead. If someone was shot or broke a leg, having these meds on hand could make all the difference. Hartman emerged from the doors and walked over to Tom and Fatima. He set the four bags of supplies he had brought and set them on to the concrete.

  Fatima looked at Hartman and calmed down.

  “You’re going to be fine.” Hartman said to her as he looked into her eyes. It was what she really needed, the reassurance of someone like him. She knew she wasn’t hurt, just scared and sometimes that was harder to get over.

  “Here I grabbed these for you since you weren’t over there.” Hartman handed Fatima a bag of meds and bandages. “For your boys, go find them. Your job here is done.”

  Tom noticed that people were piling up their knives and guns by the stairs as they exited to get to their cars. The security guards placed the duffle bag with his guns there as well. Tom felt a sense of loss as he watched his coworkers leaving for what could be the last time. They put up a good fight. In the end a fight was all they had. There was only so much they could do with a limited supply. When they had to start defending themselves from the same people they were trying to help, Hartman realized that their job was done.

  Tom walked to the pile of supplies and carried them to his car a few feet away. One of the nurses walked up and felt unsure about asking him something.

  “I don’t have anything to make sure I get home safe. I wish I could give you something, I don’t have anything except credit cards that don’t work.” She looked in her purse for something to barter with.

  Tom found the 9mm with the full magazine and pulled it out of the bag.

  “Pull the slide back to put a bullet in the chamber. The safety is here. Line up the sight on what you are shooting at and squeeze the trigger. It’s a nice gun, all you have to do is promise me you will get home in one piece.”

  “You don’t want anything for it?” She said.

  “We help one another or what is the point?”

  She hugged him and put the gun in her purse.

  “Hide the gun in the back of your pants, if it goes off you want a chunk of your butt missing, you don’t want to hit the femoral artery.” Tom said as he watched her change spots.

  “I’m a nurse. You would think I would know that.”

  Tom saw Hartman loading his car up. Then he saw Fatima. If there was anyone he felt that he should look after it was her.

  “Hey, do you want help, finding your boys?” He said. “I could follow you in my car. Make sure you get there ok.”

  “No I will be fine. Their daycare isn’t too far away. The security is pretty tight there I know they are fine.” Something in Fatima’s voice told tom she was questioning what she had just said.

  Tom grabbed the charged radio he had on him and handed it to Fatima.

  “If you need help call on channel 3, I’ll be listening.”

  She nodded her head and sat in the car.

  As she drove off Tom had a dreaded feeling in his stomach. Out of everybody leaving she was the one that he worried about the most. He couldn’t put a finger on it but he knew somehow that she was in for a journey that would be rough. His only plan was to get back to his house and hunker down. His basement still had a hidden stash of food that he could use and more ammo locked in the safe. He wondered if the guys that attacked him had let his house still stand or if they burned it to the ground. There was only one way to find out.

  Loading up his car Tom made sure he had one gun at his disposal for the trip home. He remembered how hard it was to get to his house at the start of things and wondered if it would be easier or harder to get home now. He wasn’t going to take any chances and followed his instinct of prepare for the worse and hope for the best.

  Starting up his car he was the last to leave and he looked at the hospital behind him and wondered what it would look like as time went on. The lights flickered inside as the generator used the last of the diesel fuel.

  Driving down the ramp he was cautious and he drove slowly at first. He took in his surroundings and tried to get a sense of how things were in this new outside world. He kept his windows rolled up and turned the radio on with the volume turned down. He turned the channel to NPR only to get static. He pressed buttons for other preprogrammed stations and finally found one. A rock and roll station that was still playing. Led Zeppelin played as his soundtrack for his drive home.

  “That was dazed and confused for all you rock and roll fans out there. Here at the rocker we are still rocking on because that is what we do. This is DJ Thrash here going on my eighteenth hour commercial free. Why are we commercial free? Because nobody is paying. Aren’t you glad? It only took the end of the world to finally get the radio you always wanted. I’m taking calls if you still have phones for requests. I’m here to play what you want because guess what, the FCC was blown up too with Washington so I can play what you really want to hear. So have at it. Next up we have Metallica, before they became a bunch of law suit happy pussies. Enjoy.”

  Tom recognized the song from Ride the Lightening and couldn’t remember the name of the song. The profanity was still used and not covered or skipped. He turned it up a bit and figured he should enjoy what little guilty pleasures he had left in this new world.

  Driving down the main street to his house he didn’t see too many people. If he did they were in the distance and didn’t notice him. He turned on his street and crossed his fingers that the house was still standing. He noticed many doors kicked in or boarded up. A few houses had burned down and he was happy to see his was still standing. Perhaps the men thought there were more people inside. He drove through his driveway and stopped to open the gate on his fence. Hopping back into the car he squeezed it between the garden and the house. He quickly closed the gate and locked it with the 2x4 and looked around to see if the rest of the fence was secure. It was still in one piece. Unloading his equipment from the car he walked around to the front door and unlocked it. An exhale of relief with the click of the dead bolt showing the house was still secure.

  To be extra careful he placed the bag on the floor. Locked the door behind him and quickly searched the house to find everything still where it was and nobody inside.

  Later during the night he unloaded the rest of his supplies and gear that he had brought home from the hospital and made his plans for staying alive. It would be a long journey, one of survival. He
didn’t want to do it alone. Under the circumstances he had no choice but to go at it alone. Things would be easier this way and that was the blessing. Later a friend would be nice, someone he could count on. Until things died down he didn’t know when or how he would meet anyone. In the meantime his books were his friends and his neighbors would be covered in suspicion.

  Chapter 3: One week after the Day

  It was only a week after the Day and Chuck was still in his house watching the world crumble from his windows. Without power, his entertainment had switched from the lead glass of his television to the picture window in front of his house.

  The neighbors across the street had left in their SUV, loading luggage and boxes into the back. They locked the house behind them and drove away. It wasn’t long before some of the neighbors started looking around the house and checking the windows and doors. Food had run out in most homes by now.

  The arguing from Roger’s house was constantly in the background. A few times Chuck heard knocking on his door. He stayed away and waited in his bedroom with the 12 gauge. Whoever was at the door eventually walked away. He worried about the day they tried to kick the door in. He barricaded the doors with 2x4s and boxes to make the entry more complicated. What he really wanted was to create more time from the initial attempt and when they got in the house.

  The few times he had to defend his property involved making small threats in order to get people to leave. With the power off the slightest sound outside was as loud as a gunshot. Chuck was working on rationing his food when he heard noise in his driveway. He dropped the clip board and grabbed the shotgun. At the top of the basement stairs he looked out the side door and didn’t see anything at first. He moved to the living room and looked out into the driveway. A man stood at his car and was working at prying the lid to his gas tank open. Chuck pushed the curtains open and pumped the shotgun. The man turned around looking around the yard. Chuck tapped the end of the barrel on the window pointing the gun at the man. The man raised his arms, dropped the pry bar he was using on the car, and ran. Chuck didn’t bother to see where the man ran to. His heart was racing. His hands started to shake. He closed the curtains and dropped the gun to floor. He sat on the couch and breathed. He arched his back trying to open his lungs. He slowed his breathing and felt the adrenaline flowing through his body. He noticed the tears running down his face. He wiped them away and laid on the couch. He didn’t know if he would have shot the man. He was glad to know that he was able to convince people to leave without using violence. He wondered how long that would last. His neighbors were already running around the neighborhood looking for food and supplies.

 

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