Dead Paper Birds

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Dead Paper Birds Page 30

by Megan McKinney


  I turned around breathing a sigh of relief. The rest of the bridge looked sturdy enough. Just the center. Which you know we just kind of need that part too. Rick wasn’t in sight.

  I stepped back into the hallway, looking both ways for him. At first, I glanced right over him then I did a double take. He was standing in the corner with his back to us with his hand curled up near his mouth.

  “Rick? Are you ok?” I pointed my light directly at him.

  Rick jumped before jerkily turning around. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “What are you doing going around trying to scare people huh? I just wanted a damn minute to myself and I can’t even get that, now can I?”

  I raised my hands in surrender, “Whatever. Forget I asked.”

  I went back to stand next to Richard. Dean was on the other side inspecting the doors that were blocking his access. “I want to go next.” Richard spoke softly.

  His face was pale and sweaty. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded, “If I don’t go now, I don’t know if I will be able to.” He stepped out following Dean’s path for the most part. Making adjustments here and there. Richard was able to skirt around the hole with no issues and it seemed like in no time he was on the other side.

  “I hate this,” I mumbled before taking my first step. My heart was pumping hard enough that each beat was being pulsed through each of my fingers. The carpet made disgusting wet sounds no matter how gently I set my feet down. The floor underneath it was spongy as well. The closer to the opening I got the louder the roaring river became. All too soon I was skirting around the edge of the hole. I was now sinking into the ground. It was so saturated with water that it was defying all logic at this point. Cold water hit the top of my head then ran down my neck and into my shirt. A gust of wind hit the bridge. It whistled around me. The metal groaned and shifted.

  I was stuck, frozen in place. I couldn’t move. My head was pounding in unison with my heart. I just couldn’t unfreeze. Distantly I was aware of them calling out to me. Calling out encouragement, telling me that I could do it. Thunderous creaking cut through my terror like a knife. I scrambled to get to the other side of the bridge. Dean caught me in his arms.

  “You made it. Its ok.” He struggled to keep himself serious, but he wasn’t able to wipe the smirk off of his face. Richard was helplessly choking on his laugh. He nearly had his fist shoved in his mouth just to stifle it. Dean patted me on the shoulder.

  Rick crossed quickly but far more gracefully that I had managed. He shook his head, “We’re lucky that it hasn’t collapsed yet.”

  Dean shrugged, “There are other places to cross over and then we could get to the building that way.”

  “If it were that simple, I would have just told you to do that. The whole first floor of that building you can’t access stairs or elevator shafts, nothing. The only way to get past the first floor is to go by this way.” We parted to let Rick lead on. His grumbling filling the silence.

  Dean held my arm signifying me to stay back with him. Once Rick was out of earshot, he whispered, “I’m not complaining but I thought Rick was staying behind.”

  “So, did I,” I whispered back. “I just don’t know… there’s something weird going on. Why aren’t there any infected at all? How did he get here so fast?” I shook my head. “It’s just not making a whole lot of sense. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

  Dean was looking at me strangely. “There’s nothing wrong with being paranoid.” We started following Rick and Richard but we kept our distance. “He knows the area better than we do so there’s an advantage. But it’s definitely an odd coincidence. The plan was for him to stay back… For now, I say let it slide. We still need to get back out and this isn’t the place or time for a confrontation.”

  “I agree.”

  “You know that means you, too right?”

  I stopped, confused. “What?

  He sighed but kept walking. Leaving me no choice but to catch up. When I did, he wouldn’t look me in the eyes. “There’s something different about you. I’m still hurting from our last ‘adventure’ but you’re not. You don’t act like you’re in pain. I’ve seen them. Nearly healed wounds that should still need stitches.”

  “So, what?” I hissed. “I’ve always been like that.”

  He rounded on me. “No more lies. I want the truth.”

  “What truth do you want?”

  He opened his mouth to answer but Rick hissed at us to move. I let Dean get ahead of me by a few paces before following him into a stairwell. The white walls reflected the light of our flashlights, nearly illuminating the space around us pushing back the inky darkness. I followed them with anxiety nibbling a hole in my stomach and pain punching a hole through my skull.

  Above me someone rattled a door knob, “Locked.” They stated.

  Sarcastically, Rick whispered, “Oh no. That’s just our luck. It’s a good thing we still need to go up.”

  Even whispering his voice carried past me down the stairs. I stopped to listen. The only sounds I could hear were coming from above me but it didn’t sound like anything was coming from below us. At the landing was the door that someone had tried. In peeling, green paint a large number five stood underneath a small window. I shined my flashlight up to where Rick was. “I thought we were on the third floor so this should be four, not five.”

  From above Rick responded, “Normally yes. But this building was built on lower ground than the rest of the hospital.”

  Oh, now I feel stupid.

  We passed three more floors before stopping on the eighth floor. They were grouped around the door, waiting on me when I reached the landing. Rick pushed himself through the door and disappeared from sight. From below us came a thud. The echoes rolled on top of each other building the sound. I shined my light down the center of the stairs to stare straight down. My light only illuminated maybe two and a half floors down. Nothing was moving within the range of my light. The sound didn’t repeat. It could have been the wind knocking something over.

  “Al?”

  I looked up at the doorway where Rick was standing.

  “I heard something. I don’t know what but I did.” I gestured below us.

  He nodded. “I know.” He disappeared again. This time I followed.

  The waiting room that we entered into had dark green carpet with off-white walls that were littered with bullet holes. Skeletons littered the ground. Most of which were stacked in a pile. Rotting remnants of clothes still clung to some of the bodies, which looked like…

  “Those were soldiers.” I breathlessly stated. “What happened?”

  “Please Al, just leave them alone.” Rick sighed.

  I stopped to glare at him. “You were here. You said you were here when it was all falling apart! What happened?” I demanded.

  Rick turned in a circle to see all three of us waiting for an answer. He huffed, “When it happened, it was fast. No one could have predicted how fast it spread. No one. Panic was everywhere. There wasn’t a single person that wasn’t touched or affected by it. When they couldn’t find a cure, actually when time ran out which is what happened. What was left of the army took over. They didn’t want to answer to anyone else. I followed orders. That’s all I did.” He looked at the bodies one last time before walking through more hanging plastic. It formed a short yellow hall before opening up into a standard hall.

  The flooring in here was a light blue tile, while the walls were plain white. Six dark wooden doors lined the hall, three to my left, two to my right and one at the very end of the hall. I passed the first rooms on my left and right. Dean and Richard were each in one tearing it apart.

  I stopped at the second door to my left. Two things happened simultaneously when I pushed on the door: 1) a large spike of pain shot from temple to temple, making my vision go black momentarily and 2) something hit the door pushing it shut. I gasped while clutching at my head.

  “Are you ok?” Rick asked, dropping a hand on my shoulder.
>
  I brushed him off, “Yeah its nothing. But it’s not nothing in there.”

  “Open the door and I’ll get it.” He pulled his knife out.

  I pushed it open before backing away rapidly. As soon as it opened the trapped infected started pulling at the door and trying to force its way through. Rick shoved the knife directly through its forehead. As he pulled it out the body collapsed to the ground. Curiously we entered the room.

  Metal shelves encircled the medium sized room, with several running up through the middle of the room. Each shelf was packed to the brim with tools. Varying from tweezers all the way up to saws. It looked like someone had tried to fit as much medical equipment in here as possible. Innumerable amounts of scalpels and equipment that I didn’t recognize filled numbers of crates. We backed out of the room and continued to the next on to the next room.

  I let Rick take the room on the right. I settled for the last one on the left. I waited till he disappeared into his room and after a quick glance to confirm I was alone, I pressed my hot forehead against the cold wall. It made me shiver but the pain that was passing through my brain was worse. It wasn’t building anymore. Even small favors were still favors. I only gave myself a moment before peeling myself off the wall to open the door.

  Two cots were lying on their sides facing each other. Personal belongings were scattered every which way. A small desk was sitting just to the left of the door, the chair was missing. I picked up a small pile of papers. They were letters addressed to multiple people, but several of them were for someone named Ann. The letters were full of ‘I love you’s’, regrets and justifications. I only scanned them before dropping them back onto the floor. On the other side of the room I spied a slim journal with a photo sticking out of it. I crossed over the debris with ease, stooping only to pick it up. I pulled the photo out and held it in direct line of my light. Eight people were standing in two rows, five in the back all standing with the three in the front sitting. I shook it, clearing some of the dust. Five women with three men. They looked like they were in a restaurant of some sort. All were well fed, happy. There wasn’t anything haunting in their expressions. I rubbed at more of the dust trying to see their faces clearly. The man standing on the far right looked familiar. My heart was pumping in my chest as I scrubbed with my thumb. He looked like dad, like from my dream… My sense of happiness at finding the photograph ebbed away. I folded the photo up and shoved it into my pocket. I opened up the journal.

  April 10th,

  Lizzie is a scumbag cheater! She won the jackpot AGAIN! I know she was cheating. I just don’t know how to prove it was her. Mark suspects but he doesn’t want to get involved, saying it’s just a game. Just a game! I’m not the one who throws hissy fits when someone deletes my recording of ‘the big game’ that comes one every week. Then he suggested that I just quit playing. What else am I supposed to do around here for fun then?

  I smile at that before flipping to the back.

  August 25th,

  I invited some of the guys from downstairs to join us for poker, since there’s only a couple of us now, but it was a waste of my time. I nearly got my head bit off. You think I asked them if they wanted to commit treason for the way they reacted.

  We’ve been up here for nearly seven months and we still haven’t found anything yet. I think we’re entitled to having ONE night for us to not think about work for a few hours.

  After that the entries became a little more sporadic. There were a few more which were mostly complaining about MRE’s that they were stuck with eating. I flipped towards the end.

  September 30th,

  Our monkeys came in today. Mark got upset when he realized what we’re going to do with them. I wish there was other options but unless we use the sick people there’s nothing else. If they’d let us, I’d say let’s use the already sick people, no point in hurting monkeys… Mostly it’s because I think it’s too late. Too late to keep following protocol. I don’t even fully understand how this disease works! None of us do. It acts like a bacteria but is built like a virus and I could go on and on, but we're no closer.

  Power is finally back on. It was down for over twenty-four hours. Everything is falling apart and we can’t stop it.

  Side note: mass quantities of people have started lining up outside demanding that we let them in.

  October 25th?

  We are so close. We are almost there. If only there was more time. Everyone is gone. It’s just me now. But I can’t give up… I’ve given up so much that I can’t…

  I shut the journal with a snap before sliding it into my bag. Maybe I’ll learn something about dad and about what happened before from someone other than Rick. Even if most of it is complaining about food and cheaters. But either way I highly doubt that the ‘recipe’ for it would be in here, so no need to say anything. As long as they didn’t take the knowledge to the grave with them. I dusted my pants off and turned my attention to the last room since this was a bust.

  The last door was set flush with the wall, I twisted the handle and pulled it open. This room was minimum of three times the size of the last room I was in. Windows lined the far side of the wall. I shielded my flashlight while I approached the windows. There was glass still in them. I set my palm flat against the cold glass. It was real. Thick too. I found the blinds and pulled them across the wall covering as much as possible.

  I turned around to study the room, it was separated into sections by rows of cabinets. There were four of them and they all ran the length of the room. Here there were beakers, microscopes, bottles of chemicals, petri dishes, you name it and it was here. Broken glass crunched under my feet while I moved around the room. First Rick, then Dean and finally Richard joined me in the room. I sorted through every piece of paper that I came across, scanning it before either balling it up or setting it aside for Richard to look at. Most of the papers had notes scribbled on them and with growing frustration I tried to read through the growing pain in my head. I gave up entirely when I started to see double of everything. I found a corner and sat there with my head in my hands. Just sitting in the silence, the pain began to subside. As it slowly drained away, slowly I might add, I was able to raise my head and support it.

  Peeking through the various equipment I looked around to make sure no one was watching me. Rick was near the door scanning a notebook with little interest. Dean was flipping through the white binders that were sitting under the window. When he finished with each one he would drop it into the growing pile near his feat. Richard was to my right on the next aisle over picking up a stack of paper.

  Out of my pocket I pulled the picture out again. I studied their faces again. This had to of been taken from before. They looked too happy. That had to be it. No sign of starvation or trauma. Healthy, normal people. I flipped it over to look at the back, it was blank. I flipped it back to stare at the man on the right. It looks like dad. I’m pretty certain its him.

  “I found it!” Richard squealed.

  I scrambled to my feet. Seriously? I vaulted over the aisle to look. He was holding a spiral notebook in a death grip. He looked at me. Richard’s face was shining. “It’s here. It looks like it’s just a preventative but it’s still. It’s still something.”

  Dean laughed, “That just means that everyone gets a dose. That’s all.” He pulled me into a bone crunching hug. “We found it. We can go home!”

  Home. Home is what I’ve been dreaming about for the entire time we’ve been out here. Before it could sink in Rick was clearing his throat, “Hey just in case you idiots have forgotten we still need to get out of here. So, save the celebrating for later.”

  I smiled sheepishly at Dean and he smiled just as sheepishly back. Richard shoved the journal securely in his backpack then we moved out. Rick, me, Richard and Dean bringing up the rear. At the plastic barrier Rick lost all of his looseness. He brought his bow up before stepping through it. I followed cautiously. Rum and Coke were walking on stiff legs through the room. The hair that ran
all along their backs were standing straight up.

  I pulled the shotgun securely into my hands. At this point I didn’t want to rely on stealth. If someone followed us this far up here, I didn’t want just a knife or bow in my hands. I wanted something sturdy that would hurt if I needed to use it as a blunt weapon. Richard was following me so closely I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. Rick sidestepped to the stair where he flashed his flashlight first up then down. He uttered a low whistle. Both dogs started backing up towards him, never taking their eyes away from the hall that we didn’t bother checking. I followed Rick down the stairs. We pounded down each stairwell not bothering to keep quiet. The landings flashed by only spots of color set against the white.

  The door was shut. Rick approached it cautiously. He pulled then pushed on it but it wouldn’t budge. He grabbed it with both hands and pulled. I joined him but it still didn’t budge.

  Dean pushed me to the side, “Take the rear.” He ordered.

  I climbed back up half a flight, passing Richard. He looked ghostly and sick in the light. I readied myself on the small landing while below me Rick and Dean were fighting with the door. Their grunting and breathing were echoing up the stairwell, which would cover and elephant marching through here. I hovered near the center, looking upwards cautiously.

  Then I saw a flash of movement on the floor above and across from me. I crawled up the stairs after clicking my light off, I had my gun tight in my hands. My heart was pounding in my chest but I barely noticed over the adrenaline rushing through me. There was enough ambient light from below me that the outline of someone slowly coming down the stairs. I squeezed the trigger.

  There was a loud explosion while simultaneously the gun nearly flew backwards out of my hands. Then the screaming started. Rapid footsteps echoed down to me. I scrambled to my feet and flew back down the stairs. Someone fired back at me. I heard the bullet fly past me. It striked the wall, forcing fragments to break off. Halfway down the stairs I tripped over my own feet, I fell forwards clutching the gun to my chest. Praying the whole time to keep it from going off. I rolled down the stairs somehow only barely feeling the impact that each stair had on my body.

 

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