by catt dahman
Pax asked a few questions and opened the door, ready to fight if the man were violent, even if he were the chief of police. Looking at the man in the slicker and trash bags in front of him, Pax wondered why he was out in the rain.
Oren, asked for Lydia. Pax felt his head spin for the next few minutes as Annie awakened. The man that Annie said was a good guy, brought in a snarling, angry girl who was like a damp cat, fussing and hissing and a soaking wet, skinny, tall man that Annie said was named Rick, a police officer. Pax remembered the others had said he was out running people over with his patrol car.
Lydia and the rest came downstairs, saw the situation, and came back with their arms full; she threw towels at Rick, telling him to dry himself. He undressed as told to, and using rubber gloves, Lydia tossed the wet uniform into her dryer with a distasteful look on her face.
“Why’d you bring him?” Annie asked.
“He held the tarp pretty well,” Oren said, “he isn’t violent now, he’s….”
“Smooth,” Annie said.
“Yeah. I don’t know what to do with them.”
It was hard to imagine Rick had been helpful because while Rick followed orders and exhibited no interest or emotions, his actions were losing grace rapidly. He fumbled with the towels and often stopped drying himself, staring blankly, until he was told again what to do.
“Are you okay, Oren?” Lydia was watching him as she asked.
“Not fully.”
Dana paused and looked closer at him. “What’s wrong?”
“My brain kind of itches….”
Pax’s head jerked up, and he looked at Annie. Her eyes had gone wide; she remembered that guy, Ed, said the same thing. ‘My brain kind of itches.’ If Oren started spouting about ‘Spaghetti in his cake’ and ‘frogs in the bugles,’ Pax was going to grab Annie and run.
“What do you mean?” Lydia asked him.
“It makes me want to yell and throw things, but I’m okay; I can beat this,” Oren said quietly, concentrating on keeping the itching at bay. He sipped rum and Coke that Dana brought him and looked at a wet patch on his pants, up near the thigh. “I kind of felt better when I took care of that kid. I had to help her get out, or he would’ve attacked her, but I didn’t really mind doing it.”
“Oren, you need to fight this and keep who you are. Stay focused,” Dana said. “You know you can do it. You didn’t get much rain on you, maybe a bit at some other places, but you aren’t soaked.”
He took a towel and dabbed at his pants, drying the fabric. He ran the towel over his hair and feet just in case he had gotten wet. “I’m okay,” he said, wishing he could open his head and scratch at his brain.
Pax looked out the window, peeking from behind the curtains. “It’s getting daylight.” In a weird way, it almost surprised him since he had kind of expected never to see the sunlight. The rain still fell, and the yard was like a pond, slick with water. It was impossible to tell where the street ended and where the yard began.
There was nothing but water as the entire street flooded where the old lady and young man had fought. {What was the water covering, now? How many bodies}?
Pax told them they needed to pack up and get out. “I think we’re sitting ducks right here with nowhere to retreat if we’re attacked.”
“It’s still raining?”
“Yeah. It comes down hard a while, and I see lightning, but then like now, it’s just a drizzle, but it hasn’t totally stopped yet.”
“Will it ever stop?” Sammy asked.
“It has to. It’ll stop sometime,” Pax said, “let’s get ready to go.”
Lydia and Sammy packed the most important things into the Bronco, and then they added food to help with supplies at the hotel.
Sammy kept casting curious glances at Mandy who rocked back and forth as she sat on the floor close to the front door. The teen kept rubbing at her hands and arms, moaning and rolling her eyes with rising agitation. “She keeps doing that,” Sammy said.
“Yes. It’s unnerving, isn’t it?” Lydia asked, rubbing Sammy’s back.
“I guess she doesn’t get that she’s dry. Her arms and hands are where she was wet,” Oren said, “I wasn’t thinking when I pulled her out, and she got them wet.”
“No, she wants it back,” Sammy said, shivering, “look at her eyes.”
Oren frowned, “Mandy?”
The teen rubbed harder at her arms, waggling her fingers in the air, and shaking her head, “My head….”
Sammy must have seen something because she stepped behind her mother quickly and squeaked just as Mandy jumped to her feet. Oren involuntarily rubbed at his revolver, ready to draw it. Dana grabbed a candlestick, and Pax pulled Annie behind him as he prepared to fight back.
Instead of attacking, Mandy whipped her head to the side, making her hair fly; she grabbed the doorknob, handcuffs clanking, and turned it, opening the door quickly, and leaping out into the rain.
Dan made a movement as if to tackle her but stayed in place.
Mandy ran across the porch and jumped into the pooled water on the lawn. It was up to her knees, and she flew outward to fall into the rainwater, face first, soaking herself. At first, she let out a groan of pleasure and then split the air with a bone-chilling howl. She drew herself out of the water, looking back with a hate-filled expression.
Lydia slammed the front door and bolted it just as Mandy hit it with her body, smashing at the wood with tight fists. Her back to the door, Lydia bent over, gasping, “Oh, my God, she’s crazy, too.”
“I think she got wetter than I knew,” Oren said. Without thought, he scrubbed at his thigh.
“Let’s get to the garage and load up,” Pax said. “Now. That girl yowling is going to attract more crazies.” He watched Oren rubbing at the damp spot.
“Rainies,” Oren whispered as he followed them to the kitchen.
“What about Rick?” Lydia asked. Once, the skinny man had gotten up the nerve to ask her out, but that was before she started dating Chris, and she had half-heartedly considered going out with him for about three seconds. He was a nice man, an honest person, but he was normally jittery and chatty; he would have made Lydia nervous on a date.
“Rick?” Oren called.
The man might have blinked in response, but he didn’t look up. He had stopped drying himself but was still holding a pink, fluffy towel by his side as if he had forgotten what he had been doing. For all his nervous energy and constant chewing of antacids for his nervous stomach, the man had burned out. In a way it was interesting to look at him without the worry furrows on his face or the tight lines about his lips and his darting eyes. Calm, he looked like a different man, satisfied and almost handsome.
Lydia wondered what that felt like: to give up every fear and concern and be at peace. Rick didn’t look unhappy; he was in a state of relaxation.
“Let’s go,” said Pax as he pulled Lydia’s arm and got her moving again. Dana sat with Dan in the front; Pax, Annie, and Oren sat in the back seat, and Lydia, Sammy, and Dana folded themselves into the small space in the back. Dan waited until the garage door opened, and then he backed out in a straight line. When he was sure he was in the street, he turned the car to face south.
At the door, Mandy stopped banging for a second; she had been joined by two of the neighbors, and more of the neighbors sloshed in the water aimlessly, as smooth as Rick was. Mandy and the other two watched for a second and then began banging again.
Dan drove onto Hickory and then into the T intersection where the van lay on its side and the police cruiser sat, crumpled. He gingerly skirted the wreck, looking out at the fields that were like lakes.
After a block, he turned left onto Main and drove to the Main Street Hotel. Ignoring the landscaping, Dan decided to use the area close to the doors.
He sighed as he turned off the engine.
The hotel was like an island in the storm. Literally.
Chapter 8
At the overhang, Mark jumped out of his cruiser
and shed the hot, heavy slicker and trash bags, trying to cool off, and stop the infernal sweating that felt as if he were getting rain-soaked.
The front desk where patients checked in was empty as was the waiting room; that alone was kind of eerie since it was never totally empty. A streak of bright red blood was splashed on the side of the counter, and squishy wet, pink footprints were leading toward the door; no one was in sight. Some of the chairs in the waiting room, cheap plastic things in orange and blue, were turned over.
Mark shrugged. His gun was out, and Mitch and Sara followed behind him.
“What do you think? Emergency Room?” Mitch whispered. “You know in movies, you never want to go to the hospital because that’s where the zombies came from. They start there.”
“They aren’t zombies,” Sara whispered.
“Okay, they aren’t, and what will you do if I stupidly suggest we separate and go look around the place alone?”
“Then, I’d kick you in the shin. Stop being an asshole.”
Mark held back a chuckle, “Riiight. I’ll try.”
Mark quietly pushed through the Emergency Room doors. Gus lunged forwards with a big metal bar in his hands, his eyes very focused and alert. He wasn’t ‘messed’ up by the rain, but because he was being protective of the people there, he knew it was best to know the difference.
Mark had time to notice the end of the bar was matted red with gore. “Gus, hey, it’s me. I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Are you…you?”
“Who in the hell else would I be, Mark?” Gus asked, flummoxed.
“We came to get all of you and take you to the Main Street Hotel. It’s the highest point, and we can hole up together until the military comes to rescue us. Coral and Oren said to go there.”
“I thought you were another one of the Rainies. I done had to beat down two of them. One was Jerry Cash.”
“No shit? Jerry?” Mark said.
“He came in all wet and mad and was waving a baseball bat. I crept up and pow, he’s down for the count.”
“Did you kill him?”
“Hell, I don’t know. I popped him, tied him, and dragged him into a room. Do you wanna go check and then play some cards and hey, you two can have a beer….” Gus shook his head. “I took him out. If you can do better, then please do so.”
“Just give me an sitrep.”
Gus tilted his head, “You want a what?”
“Just tell me what all of you have going here or about the situation. I need a report on the situation, Gus. Who is here?”
Gus explained that one of the orderlies was there and was okay, and so were a doctor, two nurses, and a handful of patients, but everyone else they had seen was a Rainie. The little hospital had been almost empty of patients. {Gus knew what a sitrep was because he watched movies and read, but he enjoyed giving Mark a rough time}.
Mark told him, “We need to grab some supplies and get out. If the crazies…Rainies…whatever they are come here and cut us off from the Winnebago, then, we are up a creek. Ummm, literally. Mitch, I want you and Sara to go back to the ‘Bago and be ready, okay? Send those other two guys my way.”
Mitch and Sara went out and climbed back into their motor home and asked the two men who waited to go inside and see Mark. Sara shivered and found a sweater. “That was creepy in there.”
“It was spooky; it’s a good thing that guy, Gus, is there to help Mark.”
Marnie walked over, glad to see the officer. She said that the man they had brought in, the one with the deep slashes to his belly, had died. His wife refused to leave his side. “We did all we could, but he was really messed up.”
“Sorry, we’ll get the rest.”
Dr. Roberts glared at Mark. “I can’t believe you expect to move my patients. We have the generator going. You won’t have electricity at the Hotel. These people need care, and we can give them that here. No one is going with you.”
“I understand that, but Dr. Roberts, if…no…when you get another Rainie in here attacking with a gun or knife or a fork, what do you plan to do, then?”
“I expect you to be here to protect us until we get rescued.”
“I put down two,” Gus reminded them. {He had gotten two, and Mark had gotten one, so Gus was ahead}.
“We’ll lock the doors, and Rodney is here.” The doctor motioned to the big orderly.
“No…un-huh…Rodney ain’t anywhere here,” the younger man said. He was well built and strong as an ox, but he wasn’t about to fight with crazy, wet people. He shook his head and went back to packing supplies.
“I’ll fire you.”
Rodney shrugged, “’kay.”
“So get away from all my supplies. Get out of the hospital. You are fired.”
Rodney looked at Mark, whom he had gone to school with and hung around with since. The doc had just met his match in Mark. Rodney opened up a cabinet and took out what he thought might be needed.
“What are you doing with that? Those are medications that are kept locked up,” Dr. Roberts roared. He looked at Mark as if he wanted Mark to arrest the orderly.
“Maybe so, but we need medical supplies, Doctor, and if you won’t come and help, then we’ll take what we need. Consider that the city of Cold Springs, led by Chief of Police, Oren Hastings, is confiscating that stuff,” Mark snapped back.
“I intend to file a complaint.”
“You do that.”
Rodney nodded and went back to packing. Marnie skittered off to pack a bag of supplies, as well. They loaded bandages and suture kits, vials and syringes, tape, gauze, and scissors, medications: pain, antibiotics, antiseptics, bags of glucose and saline solution, Novocain, a stethoscope, IV tubing, and anything else medical.
“You are going to kill these people if you move them,” Dr. Roberts said. He followed Mark to each room, giving his opinion and reminding him they had the generator and food and that he was staying there in the hospital. The elderly wife of the dead man refused to look at Mark and didn’t listen to either side, but her body language made it clear she was staying where she was.
In the next cubical was a girl who had been cut badly by Chris. Her arms and neck were bandaged and taped thickly, and she was asleep, with her boyfriend next to her. “He gave her something for the pain. I don’t know how we could get her moved…. This has to be over soon, and the National Guard will come help us.”
“That’s right,” Dr. Roberts said.
“It’s not just here. The State Boys said this is there, too.”
The boyfriend of the young women shook his head tiredly. He wasn’t going either. Dejected, Mark gave up another two to the doctor.
The girl who had fought crazy Daisy was in the next little room with her mother. Her name was Carrie. Mark thought she was in high school and maybe a cheerleader. “How’s the arm?”
Carrie sighed, “Hurts some, not too bad.”
Mark and the doctor both gave their spiels.
Carrie narrowed her eyes. “Officer, did you see Daisy when my dad was done? He kicked her head in.” Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat, sipping at water her mother offered her.
“I think Dad got rain on himself from Daisy, and he attacked her. He saved my bacon for sure, but he went nuts on her. We came here, and I got patched up.” She held up her arm. She received a shot of antibiotics and an IV with saline and antibiotics, had her wound scrubbed out well, was stitched and bandaged with thick, soft gauze, had a few shots of Novocain, and was taped and wrapped fully.
“I’m sorry.”
“My dad just got partially wet. He held himself together other than kicking Daisy to death. But we came here, and he struggled. You could see it in his eyes. He was torn between that anger and violence and being my dad,” said Carrie as she glanced at her mother, Susie, who was crying softly. “All of a sudden, it was too much, and he was grabbing at his head and saying it itched and hurt, but he didn’t hurt us. He gritted his teeth, and he ran
, and I mean ran out of here; I guess into the rain to finish whatever it does.”
“I’m sorry,” Mark said again.
Carrie nodded. “I don’t know what he did once he was that way. Maybe he is still pissed off, or maybe he’s like a zombie without emotions, but I don’t want him breaking in here. I don’t want to see that. So we’re going with you,” she said as she motioned to a nurse that hovered. “Please unhook me. I am leaving.”
“You need an antibiotic drip. You’re going to get an infection….”
“Unhook me.”
Dr. Roberts advised her not to go, but Carrie waved him away; she and her mother prepared to leave. One of the men with Mark decided he would stay, making Dr. Roberts grin with another win for his side. One of the nurses, Tina, said she was going with Mark, and he grinned right back at the doctor.
Mark had Rodney, Tina, Susie, Carrie, David, Marnie, and Gus with him. The other patients: a heart patient, a dehydrated drunk tourist, and the little girl with the broken arm, and her parents wouldn’t go.
At the last minute, a man named Jack who had cut himself with an axe and who was new to town decided he would go.
“Win some, lose some,” Dr. Roberts quipped. “Mark, you alone are responsible for what happens to these people because they need to be here to have proper care. Just keep that fact in your head.”
“If these people are attacked and hurt, it’s on you,” Mark hissed. He was aware that Oren or Ronnie would have forced all of them to go with some double talk and threats, but Mark wasn’t sure how to go about that.
“We are going to go out, slowly and steady. We have to go through the waiting room and out the doors. The RV is right there under the portico, so it will be nice and dry.”
Mark and Gus went first.
As Marnie came through the doors, she made a scared noise that sounded like a mouse caught in a trap.
In the waiting room, five people stood. They had been trying to get out of town and thought the hospital was a good place to gather; however, the car that they were in skidded on the wet pavement and crashed into the Doughnut and Sweets Shop across the parking lot from the hospital.
