Tattered Remnants

by Mark Tufo

  “What about the hospital?”

  I thought for a second. “That’s not a bad idea. The drugs will be wiped out and so will most of the medical supplies, but I can’t imagine the maternity ward getting too slammed.”

  We pulled up. Ghost building didn’t even begin to describe the feeling one got when looking upon the place. There was a chill in the air. Brown leaves were being hustled down the roadway on a wind that was beginning to pick up. Broken windows littered the front parking lot. The hospital looked just like a place you would expect to be ground zero for this area. A few of the windows showed the soot of a fire that had poured through the openings. Bullet holes were strewn across the front. Zombies in various states of decomposition were all around. Those humans that had died here had long ago been laid to rest by their loved ones or just those who were civic minded and still resided nearby.

  “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.” Justin said while we walked closer.

  “You catching the same thing BT had?” I wanted to laugh it off, but more than once, we’d survived merely because of a premonition, and if he was were tapping in to something unseen, I could not discount it out of hand just because I was not privy to the details.

  “I’m good.”

  “Okay, hold up for a sec.”

  He did.

  “Listen, this is no time to ‘man up.’ If you sense something, let me know and we’ll figure something else out.”

  “I’m fine, Dad. I guess I’m just a little spooked. BT must have got to me.”

  “You sounded more convincing that time you said you hadn’t eaten the cake and I found you with frosting on your head.”

  “I was five. I think maybe you should let it go.”

  “Hell no, that was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.”

  “There hasn’t been a girlfriend of mine that you’ve failed to tell.”

  “That’s what parents do. Now, be straight with me here. We’ll keep using dish towels as diapers if we have to.”

  “Have you changed any of those?”

  “Hell no, I’m the grandfather. That’s one of the perks. It’s not in my job description.”

  “Well, I have. It’s horrible. Crap leaks out all over the place. We need these diapers.”

  “All right, let’s do this then.”

  I think foreboding is a good word to use as we walked up to the main entrance. Wheelchairs, gurneys, blood, and a general sense of past mayhem were strewn all about the opening and into the large reception area. It was even worse off to the immediate right, which was the urgent care section. Brass casings and bodies made an entirely new type of flooring. The worst of the smell was gone, but there was still a persistent stink of death that would be present for a generation or two. I pointed to a hallway where I knew the stairs to be. We went around and over the dead as best we could, trying not to disturb them from their eternity. It was not always possible. These boots, like so many others before them, were destroyed. There wasn’t a disinfectant powerful enough that was going to get out the stains I was imprinting on them as I stepped on and ultimately through body after body.

  I thought the stairwell would be a relief of sorts. If anything, it was worse. The smell, which had been bottled up like a corked wine, released its essence like a stale breath once the door was opened. I swear the air sighed as it moved past, like the souls of the damned had been trapped in there as well.

  “That was weird.”

  “You caught that too?” I asked Justin.

  He nodded, his eyes wide. There was very little light making its way into the stairwell, and what it showed was definitely not worth its effort to reach those far confines. Bodies littered the steps. Skulls were smashed, brains were mashed, and bodies were broken along multiple stairs. Intestines and internal organs speckled the entire area. It looked like a psychopath with a penchant for interior decorating had spent the afternoon here. There had been a mighty battle. It was easy enough to see that this was someone’s final stand. Otherwise, they would have left long before it had gotten this bad. I’d had to forgo holding onto my weapon to grab the handrail because of how my feet kept slipping on the aftermath as we ascended. Although now I was putting my hands on all manners of things, some slimy, some slick, most just plain gross. It harkened back to one of my days at the grocery store. I always wiped down that handle with the provided sani-wipes, and this is just one of the reasons why. I would love to say this is fiction; I’d be lying.

  I’m going down the snack aisle and there’s this lady, maybe mid-sixties, could have been mid-seventies. Shit, with all the sores on her, she could have been in her forties and looked the way she did because of her meth addiction and how it had taken its toll on her. Well, just her touching the handle would have been bad enough. Anyway, she’s got a kid in the kid seat part. He’s gotta be closing in on nine years old. He’s clearly about four years too old to be in the thing. He makes Pigpen from Charlie Brown look like the poster child for Lysol. Kid is covered head to toe in dirt, and he has this hacking cough that reminds me of a TB clinic in Bangkok (don’t ask). Anyway, the kid is literally (not figuratively), literally, spitting out long strings of phlegm purposefully on the buggy handle. She’s laughing as he’s doing this like it’s the cutest thing in the fucking world! Can you imagine if you were the next one to use that cart? Especially if you were going to grab fresh fruit for your family? Have fun with that one. And just to add a small dollop of added grossness, I would swear that he may or may not have had a diaper on and it was leaking. Isn’t that top part where most of us generally put our most delicate and delectable eateries? It was at this point I began to wonder if I could buy my own shopping cart and transport it around with me. It’s shit like this that makes me like people even less.

  Right now, there was a chance I would have licked that shopping cart handle if I could have let go of the handrail I was holding. All right, all right, we both know I’m lying, but that I even suggested it shows just how distressed I was. My hand was so slick from the material coating it that I at first mistakenly thought the door on the third floor was locked when I turned the knob and only my hand spun. There was a small well of panic as I thought about having to go back down the same way we’d come. I gripped it harder. I was rewarded with the sound of something squishing and popping in my hand. The heebies had started, and the jeebies were not far behind, but at least the handle turned this time. I stepped out onto the third floor without even bothering to take a look if I was alone or not. I wanted to wipe my hands on something, anything, to get the thick layers of goop off of them. There was a dead doctor zombie not more than four feet away. The shot that had killed him had only removed the top of his head; his scrubs were near pristine as I bent over and wiped furiously on his chest.

  “I’m sorry, man, I really am.” But I kept doing it.

  Justin stepped into the hallway. He gave me a funny look, but he was beside me in a flash.

  “This is so wrong, Dad.”

  “Don’t need to tell me.”

  “Dad.” Justin pointed, and I was figuring we had company. There was a large dispenser of hand sanitizer attached to the wall. I’ve wished for a lot of things in my life. An unlimited supply of candy in my youth, an unlimited supply of girlfriends in my late teens, an unending supply of health and happiness for my family later on … right now, the most powerful wish I think I’d ever had was that the bottle of sanitizer was still liquidy and had not dried out. Funny how your priorities change given the circumstances.

  “There is a God,” I said as I pressed the button in five times.

  “Any chance you could save some for me?” Justin elbowed me out of the way. “Wait. Are you crying?”

  “Um, I’m fine. Just so very, very happy right now,” I said while I vigorously rubbed my hands together.

  “It’s the small stuff right?”

  “I couldn’t be any more proud of you than at this very moment.” I turned the doc over to wipe on the other side of his smock.
“Special place in Hell for doing this, but right now, it’s so worth it.” I waited until Justin cleaned up a bit, and then it was time to go exploring. I think I should have prepped myself a little more mentally than I had. We were going to a nursery. What should I have been expecting? It wasn’t my first run through with infant victims. I guess I just do my best to forget I’d ever crossed their paths. Much better way to keep a grip. Know what I mean? I’m not going to go into vivid detail here even if I know I’m never going to read this again. To do so would be reliving the event, and I just don’t want to, plain and simple.

  There were zombie babies and human babies and all I could see was the destruction of so much potential, so much life, unlived. It was heartrending. Justin didn’t even pretend not to see it; he heaved all over the hallway. Got some distance if I’m being honest. I saw what I needed. Sucked big giant spider penises that it was on the other side of the infirmary. Do spiders even have penises? That was not a question I was going to think long on. I strode across that room like I had blinders on. I may have heard a small groan or two but whatever made it was way beyond my help, and I in no way wanted to add its face to the long list of nightmares I already had. A quick check of the drawers yielded a laundry bag. This I stuffed with all manner of diapers from infant to pre-teen (made that last part up), but if there was a size, I was taking it because I was not coming the fuck back.

  Another gurgled cry, something between a baby looking for its mom and a tortured soul looking for something to eat. It would find neither. Justin was busy holding a wall up outside in the hallway. I looked like a redneck Santa Claus as I came out of that room with a large sack over my left shoulder and my rifle slung over my right.

  “How you holding up?”

  “And they call me Captain Obvious.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Dad, I just keep thinking, what if that were Wesley in there?”

  “It isn’t.”

  “Yeah, but what if…?”

  “It isn’t!” I said with more force then I meant. “There are paths you want to travel down, that ain’t one of them. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Come on, let’s find another way out of here.” No stupider words were uttered by me that day. Ended up going the wrong way. We went through some double doors. Directly to our front was a large, round desk that encircled the nurse’s station. Like spokes on a wheel, there were birthing rooms for expecting parents all around. Three zombies, all pregnant, were on the floor eating a couple of rats that must have had the misfortune of finding their way up here.

  “I don’t think this is the way.” Justin nearly walked into the back of me when I stopped. We hadn’t been discovered until he’d spoken. It was too late now. I dropped the bag and got my rifle up.

  The first woman was screeching as I placed a round in her head. She skidded to a death. Unfortunately, whatever she was carrying had not died. Her belly was all elbows and knees as whatever was inside her continued to move.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah, I know.” The other two zombies were hiding behind the nurse’s station.

  “What do we do?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “There’s a baby inside of her.”

  “Doubtful.” I scanned back and forth, wondering when they were going to launch their attack.

  “It’s moving!”

  I took a quick glance down. It still was. Could it possibly be human? And if she had delivered it, would she have immediately started eating it? I’m not ashamed to admit I gagged with that thought. If there was even an inkling it was human, we owed it at least that chance.

  “I don’t know how to do an emergency C-section. Do you?” I was honestly asking; there was not a hint of sarcasm in my query.

  “How hard can it be?”

  “Did you really just ask that?”

  “It’s not like we need to worry about the mother.”

  “Dammit. I’ll cover you. Pull her into that room.” I motioned to the closest room. The door was open, and I could see in. Unless someone had on a cloak of invisibility, it was empty. I backed up with Justin, covering him. He dragged her along the floor; thick blood and brain left a meaty slime trail behind her.

  I shut and locked the door, and we got her onto the bed. I stared at her belly like it was a hell mound.

  “Now what, Justin? I’m a little out of my element. I was a Marine; we blew shit up.”

  “I need a surgical kit.”

  “Any in here?”

  “Doubt it. Should be a cart around the nurses’ station though.”

  “Of course.”

  “We need to hurry. The baby doesn’t have much time. He’s not receiving oxygen or nutrients.”

  “Or human flesh. Sorry that came out before I could pull it back in. Are you sure about this? And how do you know all that?” I looked out the small privacy window in the door. The two other zombies were not in view. That didn’t mean they weren’t close; that just meant I couldn’t see them.

  “We need to at least try, and I paid attention during the human sexuality classes.”

  I nodded. “Sometimes it sucks having a moral compass.” I said the words just as I opened the door. I’d barely had enough time to pull the trigger, as one of the zombies pressed the hollow of her collar against my barrel. I’d just about split her slender neck in two, cutting her spine. Her head fell to the side. I moved the muzzle, placing it against her skull, and finished the job. Unlike the zombie we had in the bed, this one’s stomach did not move. Whatever had been in there was long gone, and I could only hope to a better place. I saw the double doors still slightly swinging as the third made her escape. I hoped she wasn’t going for reinforcements. I was not a fan of our current locale.

  “Okay, it’s clear. Get what you need.” I stayed by his side while he searched. When he found a sterile, plastic-wrapped pack, he ran back to the room, oblivious that his bodyguard was struggling to keep up.

  “Now what?” he asked after he tore the pack open. He was holding a scalpel.

  I locked the door again and placed my rifle on the dresser that held a small television.

  “Now we, and by we, I mean you, cut into her belly. Softly; this isn’t a block of cheese. You go too deep, and you’ll injure whatever that thing in there is.” I pulled her dirty shirt up; thick, black-blue veins crisscrossed her gray abdomen.

  Justin wasn’t even touching the zombie as he ran the blade down.

  “Umm, you need to make contact.”

  “I’m practicing.” His hand was shaking.

  “You want me to do this?”

  He gulped and looked at me. “No, I need to do this.”

  I was going to ask why he needed to do it and what would it set right if he did. In the end, I didn’t.

  Her skin was stretched tight like a rubber band at its breaking point. When he finally let the blade slice into her, the skin pulled back and rolled up.

  “You’re going to have to go through her abdominal wall.”

  “You’re making me nervous.”

  “I’m making you nervous? You think it has anything to do with what you’re doing?”

  He didn’t answer as he once again ran the blade down the now exposed muscle. That also peeled away like a layer of an onion. Although when one cuts an onion, you generally only want to cry. There were way more bodily functions I wanted to do at this exact moment. There wasn’t as much blood as I thought there might be. Probably because most of it was on the floor. A baby hand pushed up against a nearly translucent membrane, the last obstacle between him and us.

  “Careful,” I said as Justin once again moved in.

  “I got this, Dad.”

  “Yeah, I seem to remember you saying the same thing when you went to get your driver’s license; took you three times.”

  “Are you really bringing that up right now?” He looked over to me, fat droplets of sweat clinging to his forehead.

  “Just trying to help yo
u relax.”

  “So you say.” He moved slowly but deliberately, cutting through that membrane. A small hand shot through the opening.

  I pushed my son back.

  “Babies don’t have teeth, Dad.”

  “How do you know what this thing has? We don’t even know what it is. And just for the record, one in two thousand babies are indeed born with teeth.”

  “Mom was right.”

  “About what?”

  “You are stuffed with a bunch of useless trivial information.”

  “Useless? That trivia might have just saved your life.” I still had my hand on his chest.

  “Can I get him?”

  “Be careful.” I don’t know what I was expecting. Some campy B-roll movie and the baby goes all psycho and adheres itself to Justin’s neck just as the camera fades to black. That seemed the most likely, at least in my head. The reality was much fucking scarier. The throaty scream of a penis-less baby echoed throughout the room. Yeah, it took me a second to realize the penis-less boy was actually a girl.

  “She’s beautiful.” Justin had a full stream of tears coming down his face. I took the scalpel from his hand and severed the umbilical connection to the zombie. I wrapped the mother up in the blankets and carefully placed her on the floor against the wall behind me. Justin, in the meanwhile, placed the baby down on the bed and cleaned her off.

  “What do we do now?” I looked down at the baby, who to my untrained eye, looked as healthy as can be. The baby was blinking slowly. She was looking pretty intently at Justin, her mouth open in what looked like the beginnings of a smile. I was extremely happy to note she was of the other one thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine, not one tooth showed. Can’t be too careful.

  “We get her home and show her off,” he said triumphantly.

  “Just so we’re on the same page, I’m freaking out right now.”

  “I know, Dad, I know. I just didn’t want to state the obvious.”