From below me came the unmistakable screams of infected. Gun fire mixed with the screams making a hell of a racket. Using their own noise to cover mine I ran to my right. I turned the corner and sure enough the halls connected making a rectangle. But directly ahead of me ‘Fire Exit’ was printed in large letters directly over a door with ‘Exit’ printed on it. I threw myself against the door but it didn’t budge. Well of course that would make my life just way too easy. Now wouldn’t it. I pushed harder forcing it open an inch or two before it slammed shut. I planted my feet behind me, mustering up as much strength as possible I attacked the door again. Grunting with the effort I felt something start to give on the other side. The wind howled; shaking the building again. The fact that I could hear the wind instead of gunshots and screaming felt like a bucket of ice cubes had been dropped down my shirt.
The softest sound of a foot stepping on tile made my blood run cold. I did the only thing I could do, I kept pushing. My footsteps in the dust pointed to me like neon signs in the dark. With a burst of adrenaline, I forced the door open several inches. Nearly big enough for me to fit through. Somehow, I managed to slide my backpack off and shove it through the door, kicking it the rest off the way. I pushed myself through the crack. I couldn’t hold all of it while I pushed myself through. The door had a tight grip on me but it didn’t stop me from sliding through. I was nearly through when someone grabbed my arm.
“No, you don’t.” A raspy voice snarled.
I panicked, gasping I jerked my arm away tripping over my own backpack. As I fell the door fell back forcing him to let go. I landed with a thud on my hip.
“Ah... damn.” I gasped before jerking to my feet. Now I could see what was blocking the door. Two large filing cabinets that stood nearly to the ceiling stood guard in front of the door with a large wooden bookcase leaning against it. Under normal circumstances I shouldn’t have been able to open the door. The filing cabinets alone would have kept me out. A pipe had burst or something that had let me quite literally push one of the cabinets into the wall. The cabinets shuddered from the other side.
A quick glance behind me showed that I was on the edge of some sort of covered bridge connecting this building to the building on the other side of the street. Voices were coming from around the door. I scooped up my backpack and ran.
A woman’s voice followed me across the bridge, “We won’t hurt you! Come back, don’t go that way! Don’t go that way!” She screamed.
I hit the double door ahead of me at a run, bursting through them. I nearly tripped over my feet in my haste to stop. It looked like I was in a small greeting area. Pictures of trees and waterfalls were hung on the walls. Moldy chairs and table with dead plants on them decorated the edges of the room. I started down the hallway. Soft but distinct breathing was coming from somewhere down there.
With my knife in my hand I moved slowly forwards. Multiple doors opened up on both sides in the hall. I looked in each one before passing across it. I found the source of the breathing in the third room. A trio of infected were grouped together in the center of the small office. Each of their shoulders was pressed into the others shoulders, their heads were sunken forward possibly staring at the ground. Desperately praying that none of them decided to look up, I reached into the room holding my breath. I grabbed the handle and slowly closed the door, only releasing the handle after it latched. I let go of the breath id been holding. The remaining rooms were empty. Small favors, right?
The hallway turned before opening up into a large room. Most of the cubicles were still standing with their desks intact. The carpet was covered in pieces of paper. Long blinds covered what was left of the windows, even in their decayed state they still managed to keep most of the light out. Tacky, flowered wallpaper covered the walls with dark fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling.
Multiple infected individuals were shuffling around the room. Moving in their jerky fashion. When they weren’t chasing anything, just doing whatever. It was kind of interesting to watch them. In most cases they don’t stop moving. They’re almost always on the move, swinging their arms or running or walking. Just something. But then like the trio back there, they also do that. That’s rarer. I’ve only seen it a few times. I like to think though that when they do that they like know each other from before and that maybe they get some kind of peace from that. If you watch them long enough though they do have patterns.
I scuttled to the nearest cubicle and used it as cover while I figured out my next positioning. It was simple: stay out of sight and stay quiet. I moved from cubicle to cubicle, watching the infected out of my peripherals. I stopped under a desk, crouching as far under it as I could press myself. I rubbed my face trying to ease some of the tension. It sounds so simple to cross a dark room with maniacs who’ll try to eat you but it really isn’t, more like the opposite. It would be so much simpler to take them out one by one but if I’m still being followed the last thing I want to do it make it easier for them.
Something or someone banged on the doors that id come through. My head swiveled on my neck to see if the infected would react. They didn’t deviate from their patterns in the slightest. That just wouldn’t do. I searched around on the ground till I found something to throw. I lobbed it over the cubicles towards the hallway. I ducked back down under the desk as they began their stampede. I counted to three before sprinting the rest of the distance between me and the red metal door on the far side of the room. My hands were on the metal bar to open it when the same female voice spoke from earlier.
“Freeze you idiot.”
I froze. it wasn’t because I was told to but her voice rang with authority. I felt like I had to listen to her.
“Let go of the door and turn around.” She commanded.
I dropped the handle before turning around while slowly raising my arms, proving that they were empty. The woman standing before me was dressing in camo gear, with a green bandanna tied over her face. Greasy brown hair hung in dreadlocks around her face. At seeing my empty hands, she visibly relaxed lowering the gun to point at my legs. I jabbed my left hand into my pocket, flicked the knife open and threw it. She reacted at the last moment. She turned trying to dodge it but the knife embedded itself into her bicep. She yelled while reaching to pull it out.
I didn’t wait. I pushed the door open. Having to block my face from the bright afternoon sun I raced down the stairs. I leaped over the railing on the last few steps. Running through the sea of cars I used them to shield me. Behind me the door banged open.
“You’re going to die!” A shrill voice screamed, “No one ever makes it back out!”
Needless to say, I kept running.
To be completely and hundred percent truthful, I’m lost. I’d been following the little blue hospital signs but there wasn’t a single hospital in sight! Not even a clinic. Not long after escaping from the building Id run into a small horde. Pure luck. Just pure luck. As long as that wasn’t the last of it, I’m fine getting away on luck.
The last several hours of wandering around clouds had been building up in the sky. I watched apprehensively as they grey darker and darker. Within the next hour the sun would disappear and I would be stuck wandering around in the dark. As if it wasn’t creepy enough with the sun, now I would have to do it without. I was standing in front of a large sign stating: Welcome to Mercy Hospital. The sign had been vandalized and tagged with numerous amounts of graffiti but the wording was still legible. Which was very impressive. The rest of the hospital, yeah it wasn’t impressive at all. The buildings were no different than the rest of the city, the sign was the exception I suppose.
The hospital was a series of connected buildings, four of them to be exact. They were arranged in somewhat of a square, three out of the four buildings were on this side of the river. Although the building nearest me looked like someone had tried to set it on fire and partially succeeded. The top five floors of the ten stories were blackened and only the skeletal frames remained.
I crosse
d through a small corner of the campus by cutting through an almost empty parking lot. The vehicles that were here were military. I stomped through the overgrown flower beds, crushing weeds and flowers alike in my path. Now that I was closer it was obvious that the only way for me to reach the other building was to go through one of the other two. They connected via window paned bridges. It looked like there used to be just a standard walkway but someone didn’t like it, I guess. It was gone. Blown up or whatever.
On the side of the building to my left, in large letters it stated:
Inf m on esk
me gen y R om
ging
The rest of the sign was missing too many letters for me to make it out but the information desk sounded promising. I stepped into the building, my feet crunching on broken glass. Why is it that hospitals are like eighty percent window? I shrugged my hood off my head. I wasn’t just wet, I was soaked. My shirt under my zipped jacket was even wet. Did I mention that I’m sick and tired of the rain?
I flicked my flashlight on. The thin yellow beam tried to cut through the dark. It was so thick it was almost constricting. I walked slowly past waiting areas that had chairs galore, a small gift shop that still advertised ‘coffee, sodas and soups!’. Tacky looking get well cards, still covered in plastic littered the ground under the sign. I nudged them with my boot, trying to look at them without picking them up. Poorly drawn animals in hospital gowns wishing people well dominated in numbers. Past the gift shop the hallway curved and opened up into a large room. Stairs with a bank of elevators were straight ahead. To my left, since windows dominated the right side, a large dark brown desk took up most of the wall. A large banner was hung above it stating that this was the info desk.
I rifled through the desk. Looking for a map or anything that could point me in the right direction. I ripped drawers out and dumped the contents out. After looking through it all I swept all of it onto the floor with a snarl. Nothing. No map. No idea of which building to check. Nothing at all. I slid down the wall, feeling hopeless. I was tired, cold and wet. I turned my flashlight off. I sat in the dark and waited to see if anyone would show up.
I sat forward with a jerk. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I rubbed my eyes hard enough to make a kaleidoscope of colors to appear in each eye. Now the question is, how long was I asleep? I peeked over the desk. Yup just like I thought, completely dark and it’s still raining. In a fit of anger, I picked up a small figurine and threw it as hard as I could towards the window.
“What the…?”
I froze at the unfamiliar voice. Before ducking back down behind the desk. A light clicked on. I watched the yellow beam from my position while it navigated the room. It was entirely possible that it was Dean and Richard. It was also likely that it was someone else entirely. I already made too much of a statement, it would be so far beyond idiotic to call out at this point. I gripped my bow. Somehow, I was going to have to figure out who it is.
I started to move to my right but I’d only moved a step when something growled. I stopped, shaking. It wasn’t a human. A human, even fully gone wasn’t capable of making a noise like that. Now that I was listening I heard the soft clicks from its nails as it moved forward. I fumbled for an arrow. My fingers were coated in clammy sweat making it difficult to pull an arrow out. Meanwhile the dog or whatever it was still growling softly and moving closer.
Then the growling stopped. I held my breath listening. The clicking rapidly sped up, from behind me. I tried to turn but it was on me only halfway through. I threw up an arm trying to block myself. Instead of teeth tearing into my skin, a soft tongue frantically licked my face. I tried to push it off of me but it resisted. I wasn’t in the right position to be able to use my arms anyways. The light rolled over and sat on us, illuminating us.
A sharp but short whistle called the dog off of me. I rolled over, hiding my eyes. The light moved off of it and in the reflective light, “Rick! What are you doing here?” I jumped to my feet.
“I had a bad feeling ok.”
“So, you felt guilty.”
“Nope. Just had a bad feeling.”
I tried to dust myself off as best as I could, considering I was still wet.
“What the hell did you throw at me?”
“Huh?” I asked.
He pointed, “You threw something and it damn near hit me in the head.”
“Oh,” I smiled cheekily, “I don’t know, it was lying here on the desk.” I bent to pick up my bow. “You didn’t happen to run into the other two, did you?”
“You guys didn’t get separated, did you?”
“Rick,” I set my hands on my hips. “Seriously, did you think it was going to go completely smooth. With no hitches whatsoever?”
He waved his hand at me, shushing me. He held his bow ready to go. Off in the distance wailing and screaming of infected were picking up. We stood there in silence listening as it grew in volume. Even the sound of their thundering feet could be heard. Rick waved at me to follow him. The dogs circled around us, their hair standing on end but they remained silent. We crept up the stairs, watching around us warily.
I followed Rick’s lead while we climbed another set of stairs, this time these were hidden behind a door. At the third floor Rick pushed the door open and putrid air flowed out. I smothered my mouth under my hands. It was enough to make me puke.
“Rick,” I gagged. “I don’t think I can do this.”
He started to disappear through the door, “Oh yes you are.” He left me alone in the stairwell. Even Rum and Coke followed him.
I followed them. It opened up to a wide hallway, wide enough to comfortably drive Rick’s blazer down it with room on both sides to spare. Murals decorated the walls on both sides. I pulled my jacket up to cover my nose. Through it I only took shallow breaths. Along one side chairs, couches and fake plants were stacked in a large pile. I walked around it, eyeing the pile nervously. Here the hall ended in a ‘T’ shape. Rick was walking down the one to the left. Down here were display cases but whatever had been in them was long gone. Only pieces of green glass remained.
At the end of the hall it opened up into a medium sized waiting room. All the tables and chairs, along with any decoration was thrown in a pile that took up the center of the room. Huddled just on the other side of the pile was a huddled bundled up clothes. Both dogs were approaching it on stiff legs. The hair all along their backs were sticking up. Quickly Rick sent an arrow into the back of its head. He only paused in his walk to grab the arrow. I passed the infected without a second glance but both dogs took turns sniffing it. At the far wall was a bank of three elevators but just to the right of them was another stair well. We climbed the stairs. We only had to go up one floor but we passed countless skeletons lying in piles with only a small path through them. Innumerable glints of metal from bullet casings glittered around us.
On the door leading to the third floor there was a hastily put-up sign that read ‘All CDC personnel must have a military escort at all times.’ Rick looked at the sign for a moment before pushing through the door. I expected to be dumped into another hallway or waiting room. Instead we were met with thick white plastic that hung from the ceiling in tatters. Signs were still hanging from the walls. One said, ‘Authorized personnel only”, another said ‘Protective gear must be worn at all times”.
Rick grinned at me. “Believe me now?”
I pushed past him making sure to step carefully over the plastic. Large stains covered the walls and floor. Large dark stains that looked like blood. But unlike the stairs there were no bodies in here, just debris. There wasn’t a single pane of glass that was intact still. Holes were punched through the walls. Doors were hanging off their hinges. This place looked like someone had used a sledgehammer while drunk.
Neither Rick or I bothered to do more than glance into the rooms we passed. The dogs were ranging further ahead of us. They kept their noses to the ground but kept an easy stance. I stopped by one of the windows. The rain was falling at a
n angle through the window to puddle on the floor. I let Rick pass me while pretending to be checking my shoe lace. I was starting to have the faintest doubts about Rick. All of this was too easy. I mean there should have been at least a few infected. I mean I’m not complaining but there should have been. They’re like flies, they get everywhere. He was walking but it was a normal walk. The kind that would be common at home not here. He wasn’t taking precautions to avoid making sounds or to avoid being detected. Then him showing up so quickly. It took me hours. Hours to get here. So, unless he started after us right away…
Rick’s laughter pulled me from my reverie. I hurried to catch up to him where he had disappeared around the corner. I paused just for a moment at the corner to take a shaky breath. Stabbing pain had started in my temples. I shook it off as best as I could. I turned the corner and uttered a surprised gasp of shock.
Richard was standing at the opening of the bridge. He tried to smile but only succeeded in doing some sort of grimace. When I stood next to him I saw why.
It was very badly damaged. The bridge was sagging heavily in the middle with most of the floor rotted away near the center. Water was cascading down through the ceiling, running into the carpet or what was left of it. Dean was walking right along the edge of it. He was having to use the lip where the window used to be to balance him. I held my breath while he skirted around the edge of the hole. Richard grabbed me, out of shock I think, when one of Dean’s legs broke through the ground. We could only watch in horrified suspense while he had to fight to get free. He struggled for only a minute or two before he was able to escape.
Dead Paper Birds Page 29
