Wipeout | Book 2 | Foul Play

by Richards, E. S.

  “Come on Cassie,” Samuel reasoned with her. “I need to try. I’ll be back here before you know it.”

  Without giving the young woman a chance to respond and argue, Samuel slipped his hand from her grasp and stepped away. Samuel didn’t know the first thing about generators and electronics, fully aware that he would be facing this generator with about as much skill as a kindergartener trying to drive an SUV. But he had to try. More and more people were going to die every minute that the hospital didn’t have power and he refused to just stand by someone’s bedside and let that happen.

  Samuel yanked open the door to the basement and started down.

  “Hey! Where are you going?”

  Looking upward, Samuel saw the woman who was calling after him. He had barely made it half way down the flight of stairs.

  “There’s a backup generator downstairs,” he started to explain. “I’m going to try –”

  “Don’t bother,” the woman replied. “It doesn’t work. I need help up here. Come with me.”

  Samuel paused and looked at the woman – she was dressed in sensible pants, flat shoes and a dark colored blouse. There was an identification badge hanging out of her pocket that looked to belong to the hospital in some way, though he couldn’t make out the details.

  “Come on,” she urged him as he stood still one flight below her. “Do you have any medical training?” Samuel shook his head. “Doesn’t matter,” she replied quickly, “you can still help. Come on. Hurry.”

  He hurried after the woman, who was already on the move. He shouldn’t need to be reminded about how precious time was. He already knew lives were on the line and if he could help in any way then he needed to be there. The sound of screaming increased as the woman pushed through double doors at the top of the stairs, walking out onto a ward that was more well-lit than the one downstairs, large windows along both sides revealing beds of distressed patients, several of them writhing around in agony.

  “What’s going on?”

  “People are dying,” the woman called back over her shoulder. “I need you to help me hold them down so I can administer sedatives.”

  Samuel stood in the middle of the ward and looked from one bed to another, counting the number of people who were spasming out of control under their sheets. Nearly half. The woman disappeared behind a counter at the back of the room, her hands pawing through cupboards until she found the equipment she needed. For the number of patients on the ward, there didn’t seem to be nearly enough medical professionals by Samuel’s count. Two men in white coats rushed between beds and a couple other nurses assisted them where they could, but other than that everyone wore plain clothes and a number of them stood stock-still beside beds watching in terror, or desperately trying to calm the patients in any way they could.

  As he looked more closely at the patients, he saw to his horror that a number of them were fastened down to the beds by fabric cuffs. He had only ever seen them used on television shows to restrain injured criminals, a shiver running down Samuel’s spine as he questioned exactly where he was and what was going on.

  “Over here!” The woman shouted over to him, “I need help!”

  Rushing over to her side, Samuel slid to a halt in front of a bed with a seizing woman. Her limbs flailed around outside of her control, her mouth hung open, her tongue limp and to one side. Her eyes were wide open and stared upwards, making eye contact with Samuel as he looked at her and gasped. It was like she wasn’t really there though – her eyes seeing him, but the woman’s mind switched off as her body lost control.

  “Hold her steady,” the woman on the other side of the bed spoke, Samuel finally close enough to read her identification badge now and learning that she was in fact a neurological physician: Doctor Lucie Miller. “I need to find a vein.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Samuel asked as he hovered over the woman, his arms outstretched but uncertain where to grab hold of her. It didn’t seem right just pinning her down to the bed, even though the doctor had advised it.

  “She’s having a seizure,” Doctor Miller explained, filling a syringe. “This is a specialty epilepsy hospital; everyone here has a rare form of epilepsy that has mutated in the last year or two into something we’ve never seen before. It’s ten times more advanced than the disease used to be. The seizures used to only cause the body to malfunction, but now they’re affecting the internal organs too, specifically the lungs. That’s why some of them – the worst cases – are hooked up to respirators. If we don’t stop her soon, she’s not going to be able to breathe for herself properly. Hold her legs and arms. Try and keep her as still as possible. The injection should keep her lungs going long enough until the power comes back on.”

  Samuel did exactly as he was told, following the instructions and using one hand to hold down the woman’s arm nearest to him, the other and the bulk of his body weight to keep her legs from kicking out. He processed what Doctor Miller had told him about the hospital and shot a quick glance around the ward once more; those that weren’t seizing all lay incredibly still and after what he had just learned about the epilepsy affecting people’s lungs, Samuel could only hope they were just still because they had already been sedated. Doctor Miller had said the injections would work until the power came back on, but who knew how long that would take. There wasn’t even any guarantee it would return again; if it didn’t, what would happen to the patients then?

  Lucie Miller worked quickly and efficiently, pinning the woman’s other arm down in front of her and finding a vein within it to insert the syringe. Once she had injected the sedative, the effects of it took hold almost immediately. The woman’s body stopped fighting against them so much, her movements becoming slower and weaker as the drug took hold and calmed her down. She gasped a couple of large, desperate breaths of air, filling her lungs before falling back onto the bed, her body going limp and lifeless.

  “What’s happened? Is she okay?”

  Doctor Miller pressed two fingers against the woman’s throat, searching for a pulse and looking at her watch at the same time. She was silent for a whole thirty seconds as she counted, Samuel watching with questioning eyes as he waited for a response.

  “She’s fine,” the doctor eventually replied, Samuel finding himself exhaling a huge sigh of relief. “Pulse is steady. Come on,” she started to walk across the ward to another bed filled with a seizing patient. “We’re not done yet.”

  Doctor Miller wasn’t kidding, they were on a ward of perhaps twenty or twenty-five patients and thankfully – as morbid as that sounded – roughly half of them were still seizing. But seizing, at this stage, was a good thing according to the doctor. If patients were still doing that then it meant they were still breathing, which was more than Samuel could say for some of the men and women in beds he walked past. This was only one ward of the hospital as well; he could only guess at how many more were in a similar state. The hospital had next to no staff and no power and yet, everyone inside the building was doing everything they could to keep the patients alive. By the time he and Doctor Miller reached the fourth or fifth bed, holding individuals down was second nature to Samuel. He wanted to do more; he wanted these people to live.

  He was wrestling with keeping a particularly strong man’s legs still while Doctor Miller tried to find a vein in his arm, when the unmistakable sound of gunfire echoed through the hospital corridors. Samuel reacted immediately, letting go of the man’s legs and dropping to the ground in an instant fight or flight reaction, resulting in the man’s right leg kicking outward and catching Doctor Miller in the stomach.

  “Ughhh,” the woman groaned and dropped the syringe in her hand, doubling over and holding her stomach instead.

  Samuel shuffled along the hospital floor to her, placing a hand on her arm and pulling her down. “Didn’t you hear that?” He whispered, peeking up above the bed with the thrashing man on it and trying to see around the corner to the sound of the gunfire. “Gunshots. What do we do?”

 
Doctor Miller rubbed her stomach for a second longer, then turned away from Samuel to try and find her syringe in the dim lighting. “There’s nothing we can do,” she spoke in her usual voice, not lowering it out of fear like Samuel was. “I need to save these people and I need your help, Samuel.” Picking the syringe up, she removed the needle and discarded it into the sharps bin. Then she unwrapped a clean one and popped it on the syringe. “Are you still with me?”

  Samuel stared at the woman with his mouth wide open as more gunshots sounded further down the corridor. They sounded like they were getting closer but Doctor Miller didn’t even flinch, looking down at Samuel with an expectant gaze. He was in awe of her. It was one thing to have a duty to your patients, but the woman didn’t even seem phased by the potential impending death that was waiting around the corner. She had one task on her mind and that was the wellbeing of her patients; it was incredible to see someone so committed to their work in such a moment of pure danger. Samuel could hardly believe it.

  He was terrified of what was approaching them, convinced that the sound was gunfire but at the same time incredibly confused why that would be happening inside a hospital. With Doctor Miller looking at him though, he found purpose flooding through him. He wanted to save the people on the ward just as much as she did and with her encouragement, he felt he could work through his worries.

  “Okay,” he nodded, climbing to his feet beside her. “Ready.”

  Doctor Miller nodded back, giving Samuel the signal to grab hold of the man’s legs again and trying to keep him steady once more. Laying his torso over the man, he just about managed, though took a knee to the face as he was trying to get into a comfortable position. Samuel lay across him with his eyes on the entrance to the ward, unable to switch off from the approaching sound of footsteps mixed in with occasional gunshots. People were approaching, and there was no way of telling what was going to happen when they arrived.

  “Hands in the air!” A commanding shout echoed through the room as five men appeared from around the corner, one of them firing a handgun into the ceiling at the end of the sentence. Anywhere else it was an action that would’ve silenced a room, but with a handful of patients still seizing and Doctor Miller intent on helping them before it was too late, the words of these intruders had no effect.

  “I said, everybody stop!”

  The lack of response clearly hadn’t impressed the leader of this group of leather-clad men, looking unmistakably like a motorcycle gang that had come in off of the street. Samuel didn’t like the look of them at all, much less so as the front man fired his gun twice more into the ceiling, bits of plaster and wiring falling down around him as he did so. Even if the hospital could get power back now, it was unlikely everything would be working as it had been before.

  “Where are the drugs?” The man shouted, not the least distracted by the sick men and women around him and focusing in immediately on Doctor Miller and Samuel, identifying them as the two most senior and useful people on the ward. The other doctors had left not long ago to tend to patients elsewhere in the hospital, Samuel’s assistance meaning Doctor Miller could get through the bulk of patients quicker than either of them could manage.

  “There’s a whole cabinet full over here boss,” another man called over, he and another going through the cabinets where Doctor Miller had previously loaded up on sedatives. “It’s the powerful stuff too.”

  “Fill the bags,” the leader replied, “make sure you get all of it.”

  Doctor Miller had watched the situation unfold until that very moment, a syringe already held in her hand that she was ready to inject into the next patient in need. Three people still writhed around in the room amidst what was happening, Samuel watching them carefully as well as the men with guns, noticing one man whose seizures were becoming less and less, likely as his lungs started to collapse in on themselves and he struggled to keep fighting for breath. If something didn’t happen soon, he would die along with the other two patients they were yet to reach.

  “I need that medicine for my patients,” Doctor Miller announced loudly, startling both Samuel and the lead man with the handgun. It didn’t look like anyone had argued with him so far, and a smile crept onto his face.

  “Sorry doctor,” he replied, mocking her status. “But that’s not going to fly with me. We need the meds too. All of the meds,” he specified, looking at the syringe in her hand. “Hand that over.”

  “No chance,” Doctor Miller scoffed. “You’ve got more than enough.”

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me properly,” the man continued in a menacing voice, walking slowly closer to Doctor Miller and Samuel. “I want all of the meds. That includes what’s in that needle there. Now hand it over, or I’ll be forced to take it from you.”

  “Just give it to him,” Samuel whispered, frightened by the lengths this man and his group were willing to go to in order to get what they wanted. He’d heard several gunshots since they arrived in the building and while there wasn’t any proof that they hadn’t all just been fired into the ceiling, that wasn’t a risk Samuel was willing to bet his life on.

  “I’d listen to your friend if I were you,” the man smirked. “I’ve asked you nicely, now give me the drugs.”

  “I’m sorry, no,” Doctor Miller shook her hand and stood firmly in place. “I can’t do that.”

  “Fine,” the man sighed. “Have it your way then.”

  Before Samuel or Doctor Miller could react, he raised his handgun and fired directly at the doctor’s chest. She fell to the ground, the syringe falling from her hand as blood started to pour from the wound, flowing thick and fast onto the clean hospital floor.

  “I did warn you,” the man in leather snarled as he leaned down over Doctor Miller’s body and picked up the syringe she had been holding. “Should’ve listened.” He made a tutting sound with his tongue and turned away, walked back to the rest of his group and dropped the syringe into an open bag.

  Samuel couldn’t believe what had just happened. He stared after the group as they disappeared as quickly as they had arrived, leaving the ward in disarray as Doctor Miller choked on her own blood. He rushed over to her, occupying her field of vision and immediately putting pressure on the bullet wound just like Austin had done with Daveed on their way into the hospital.

  “What do I do?” He pleaded with the dying woman, desperate for her to respond. But Doctor Miller was already too far gone. Her skin was pale and her eyes fluttered between open and closed. She barely had a minute left, unable to string a sentence together in response as blood gurgled in her throat.

  Samuel held his breath and fought back against the tears that threatened to pour from his eyes as he gripped her hand. He knelt over Lucie Miller as the life left her body. The doctor had been a strong woman right up until her very last dying breath. Through everything that had happened she had stayed loyal to her cause and done everything she could to save her patients. Samuel admired her a great deal and felt saddened by her passing. She was an inspirational human being who hadn’t deserved to die – if more people were like her in the world, he was sure it would be a much happier place. As her eyes closed for the last time, Samuel whispered a small prayer and hoped that somehow, it would help to ease her passing.

  Chapter 7

  “Samuel. My God. Are you okay? What happened?”

  When Austin finally found Samuel again, he was in the same position that Doctor Miller had last seen him in—cradling her body. The woman had died in his arms and Samuel had remained there, slumped against a bed in a now silent ward. All the patients that he and Lucie Miller had failed to reach were all motionless now. It had been left too late.

  Samuel was covered in the woman’s blood, the puddle that had oozed out from her chest soaking most of his clothes and cordoning off the area like a warning sign. As soon as Austin saw the sight, he froze in his tracks.

  “Samuel? Are you alright?”

  Looking up and processing who was talking to him, Samuel laid eyes on
Austin and smiled a mournful smile. “I’m fine,” he replied quietly. “It’s not my blood.”

  “What – what happened?” Austin asked cautiously, still not having taken another step closer to Samuel. “I heard gunshots…”

  “Yeah,” Samuel nodded. “There were gunshots. We were trying to save the patients, but we couldn’t get to them all.”

  Looking around the ward, Austin took in the number of patients lying in hospital beds around them. None of them were conscious and he feared it may be worse than that for most. Everyone lay so still and silent it was almost like a morgue, the scent of blood in the air from the dead woman in front of him making it even more realistic. She had been shot – that much was obvious – but Austin still didn’t understand what had transpired to lead to that event. Everyone that he had been around downstairs had simply hidden, no perpetrator or villain ever showed their face.

  “Come on pal,” Austin finally took a step closer to his friend, holding out his hand for Samuel to take. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” The way Austin saw it, it didn’t matter too much what had happened. He was sure Samuel would give him the details later on. The important thing now was to get the man cleaned up. Who knew how long he had been holding that woman’s dead body or the relationship the two of them had shared before she died; Samuel had met someone from Trident who he knew downstairs, what was to say he hadn’t known this woman as well? The look on his face told Austin one thing at least: he was definitely affected by her death.

  With Austin reaching out to him, Samuel glanced down at Doctor Miller’s face once more. He had long ago closed her eyes, but still supported her head. It felt wrong in some way to leave her on the hospital floor and so, without asking for any help from Austin, he shuffled around on the floor and picked the woman’s body up in his arms.

  Carrying her like a small child, he walked over to the only empty bed in the ward, and laid her down. Blood still coated her clothing and there was no disguising the hole in her chest, but at least with the white sheet pulled up over her torso, it was hidden.