“That is all we have right now. Ronnie and I are goin’ over to my house to get my medic bag.”
“Just hurry, I don’t know how long before her water breaks. Once that happens we will have to act fast. We don’t have anything to induce labor with or to help with the pain” Buffey did not look up as she spoke to the men who stood in the doorway, perplexed.
Chris tugged at Ronnie’s sleeve. “C’mon. We’ll go over to my house’n get my medic bag. We don’t do anything alone.”
Ronnie did not want to tear himself away from his mother and sister, but he needed to help Chris. He forcibly stepped away from the doorway and went to the kitchen where Chris was preparing. Ronnie grabbed Chris’ shotgun from the table and meandered over to the door where Chris was standing. Chris pushed the door open and stepped out into the fog and light drizzle that was once again permeating the air. It had become unusually cool outside for September. The sun was just a dim spot in an unusually dark sky.
Ronnie looked around as he and Chris made their way across the front yard to the “house” as it were. They slowly scanned and listened intently for the sounds of the undead. The steady drizzle of rain did not deter the sounds outside. The cattle across the road at the Fitzgerald’s farm could be heard moving about and baying. Ronnie and Chris both heard the eerie sounds of the cattle in distress, which made them move a little quicker. They did not know yet if the infection had spread to the wildlife and were not going to stand around to find out. They made it over to the house and got inside. Chris frantically searched about for his personal medic bag. He knew that he did not have an OB kit in the bag, but he did have several IV’s that they would need. Ronnie stood guard at the door, still listening to the sounds of the dairy cows in distress.
“I don’t know what the hell is goin’ on across the road, but those things are freakin’ me the fuck out. You find your shit yet?” Ronnie’s eyes darted about the yard, looking for any movement. Chris fumbled through his bedroom and grabbed his bag. “Got it!”
“Good let’s get the hell outta here. This shit is makin’ me nervous.”
Chris threw his bag across his shoulder and pulled the door shut as Ronnie moved outside in front of the house. They did not sneak across the yard this time, sprinting through the yard back over to the trailer. They bounded up the stairs and inside to the relative security of the home. Ronnie fumbled with the boards for the front door for a time before finally getting them back in place as Chris pulled the bag off his shoulders and swiftly made his way to Lori.
Lori was now on her back, still in immense pain. Buffey sat at the top of the bed with Lori’s head in her lap. She gently stroked her hair and tried her best to console Lori as much as she could, which was very little. Chris tossed the bag onto the floor and began feverishly grabbing his IV supplies. A bag of normal saline, a PRN adapter, alcohol pads, some tape, and a 20-gauge needle were set aside from the bag. He donned a pair of non-latex gloves and got his IV tubing out. Chris spiked the bag and ran all of the air out of the tubing. Chris got his IV kit ready, knelt down beside of the bed, placed the tourniquet on Lori’s right arm, and cleaned the IV site with an alcohol prep pad. He unsheathed the 20-gauge needle and aimed it for her right antecubatal fossa, the easiest vein to spot. He looked up at Lori, “Big stick now,” and punctured the vein with the needle. He got a flash of blood and withdrew the needle, leaving the catheter, and hooked up the PRN adapter. He then hooked the IV of saline into the adapter, adjusted the flow to KVO, to “keep vein open”, and taped it in place. Ronnie stood in amazement of how fast the whole process took. In just under thirty seconds, Chris had started the IV and gave a little hope to everyone else in the room. Chris went to the closet, grabbed a hangar, and bent it in half, using it to hang the IV line from the headboard of the bed. Lori moaned in pain again as another contraction pulsed through her. Chris looked down as he came back to the foot of the bed and noticed there was a greenish-yellow pool of wetness near the crotch of Lori’s pants.
Her water had broken.
“Dammit!” Chris said under his breath. He went to the medic bag, got his trauma scissors, and motioned to Ronnie. “Help me with her pants.” Ronnie initially hesitated, stopping just short of the foot of the bed. Chris looked over to him and slyly grinned. “Come on. I know she is your sister, but you see one, you seen ‘em all.”
Ronnie steeled himself, went to the foot of the bed, and assisted Chris with getting his sister’s pants off. The jeans were soaked in amniotic fluid as Chris tossed them aside and pulled Lori’s panties off. Chris looked up at Lori. “I know this is awkward, but we have got to get your legs propped up so I can see if the baby is coming. Lori looked down at Chris and slowly nodded, closing her eyes as she did. She propped her legs up and spread them. Chris looked down at her. He could see that she was not crowning just yet, but the bulge in her suprapubic area said that it would not be long. Chris covered her back with a blanket. He rose from the foot of the bed and walked into the kitchen, lighting a cigarette as he did. He stood in the kitchen with his hand on his forehead trying to contemplate how he was going to try to get Lori to deliver the baby when he heard a sound coming from the back of the house. He went to the boarded up sliding glass door and pressed his ear up against it. The cans were jingling again. This time it sounded like there were many more outside than when he and Ronnie had dropped several of them not thirty minutes before. Ronnie heard the unmistakable sound of hands beating against the exterior of the glass door as he darted into the kitchen.
“Ah, shit! Fuckin’ zombies never give you damn break, do they?”
“Yeah, no shit. Not the best fuckin’ timing in the world,” Chris said as he tried in vain to see into the back yard.
He went to the side windows behind the couch and pulled a board loose to try to see what they were up against. He peered to his left and saw the zombies milling about. He counted seven or eight; he could not be sure, as they were obviously agitated at something. He leaned back from the window and sat on the couch. He had a thousand things racing through his mind as what to do first. Buffey was a capable EMT, but it would take more than one of them to deliver the baby. He did not want to go outside and risk being caught out there when the time came. On the other hand, he also did not want a bunch of walkers congregating outside either. The sounds of the dead would no doubt attract more of them and they could ill afford the hassle of having more undead at their doorstep. He finally concluded that the living were more important than the dead, and he should wait for the delivery first. As if to read his mind Lori let out a howl as another contraction passed.
“I think it’s coming!” She screamed as the last contraction ended. “I need to push!”
Chris flew through the kitchen and back into the bedroom as the zombies began to amass outside. He was scared shitless from the sounds of the dead that now were pounding on the front of the house as well. That noise combined with Lori’s pitiful cries as she began to push were a cacophony of sounds that gave him goosebumps. He tried to ignore the sounds of hands beating on the side of the house and keep focused on his task at hand. He looked down and saw that the baby’s head was crowning.
“Shit! Buffey give me a hand here!” Chris beckoned her to the end of the bed.
Ronnie went to Lori’s side and held her hand. Rickey slowly came towards the sound of the shouting and commotion in the bedroom. He peeked around the corner and saw Lori lying in the bed, obviously in pain. “Is sissy gonna be OK?” Rickey had a very worried look on his face. Ronnie let loose of Lori’s hand and made his way across the bed to Rickey.
“Yeah she’s gonna be just fine. She is having the baby right now so if you can just go wait in the living room we will be done in a little bit.” Ronnie put a reassuring hand on Rickey’s shoulder.
“I can hear the zombies outside,” Rickey began to well up with tears, “and my daddy isn’t here yet. I’m scared they are gonna get me!”
“We have to take care of the baby first, and then Chris and I
will take care of the zombies. Your daddy will be home soon, okay?”
“Okay, but can I just stand here. I’m scared to go in the living room,” Rickey sniffled.
“Yeah, buddy. Just stay in the doorway here.” Rickey did as he was told and clung to the doorway, afraid to move.
Ronnie got to his feet and went back to Lori’s bedside. She began to push in earnest now. Chris urged Lori on as she was trying her best. He laid his hands under the birth canal and waited for the head to appear. Chris smirked in spite of himself, feeling like Johnny Bench waiting for one to come screaming down the pipe at him. His grin quickly disappeared as Lori gave a hard push and the head began to appear. Buffey clutched her hand as she pushed again, breathing heavily as she did. Chris saw the head clearly now and began to put his fingers inside to create a passage for the baby to breathe. Lori continued to push, the baby’s head came out, and the shoulders presented. Chris turned the shoulders and noticed that Lori was not pushing anymore.
“Come on girl, just one more big push and we got it!” Chris said excitedly.
Lori had laid her head back in exhaustion as Buffey gripped her hand tightly. “Come on, just a little more and we will be done, baby.” Lori did not respond to neither Buffey’s nor Chris’ pleas. Buffey looked down on Lori and noticed her grip had gone limp. Buffey frantically began checking for a pulse on Lori’s neck, and she did not find one. She slowly looked down to Lori’s chest and did not see the rhythmic rise and fall. She had stopped breathing as well.
“OH GOD NO!” Buffey exclaimed as she positioned herself at Lori’s side, and began CPR.
Chris gently pulled on the baby the rest of the way out and quickly wrapped it and handed it to Ashleigh. She checked the airway and breathing of the newborn and coddled it. The child was breathing, but was not making an effort to cry. Chris immediately jumped up on the bed and began to assist Buffey with resuscitating her daughter. Chris opened her airway and began to give rescue breaths. Buffey cried as she compressed Lori’s chest repeatedly. She and Chris continued to try to resuscitate her for nearly twenty minutes to no avail. Buffey’s eyes swelled red from sobbing and pleading with Lori to start breathing again. Chris noticed that Lori’s lips were becoming cold as he gave rescue breaths. He stopped and leaned back, tears welling up. He held back the lump in his throat long enough to talk to Buffey. Buffey, stunned, looked up from her vain attempts to breathe life back into her daughter, and made eye contact with Chris.
Chris slowly closed his eyes and mournfully shook his head. “She’s gone Buffey. I’m so sorry.”
Buffey stopped her CPR compressions and looked to her daughter’s face. Chris was right; the life had gone from her long before they had noticed that they needed to stop. Buffey broke down in uncontrollable sobbing. Rickey ran into the room and clutched his mother around the neck, trying to hug away the pain that Buffey could not shake. Rickey began bawling as well, as losing his sister was too much for a ten-year-old to handle. Buffey worried before about Rickey’s capacity to understand what was going on outside in the world. Chris tried to console Buffey as much as he could, to no avail. Chris’ heart began to ache when he realized that Lori’s hands were beginning to move again. The CPR that they had done had stalled the process, albeit momentarily, of Lori turning into one of the undead. Chris slipped away from the bed and picked Buffey up from her knees on the floor. Buffey pitifully looked up at Chris, and then looked to Lori’s twitching body on the bed.
“She’s turning isn’t she?”
“I’m afraid so. You know what we have to do. Don’t you?” Chris said as he ushered Buffey towards the door.
“Yes I do,” Buffey said, and began crying again. She looked to Lori’s body then returned to Chris. “Let me do it.”
Chris hesitated. “I don’t think you want to do that. It’s not going to be pretty.”
Buffey wiped away her tears and composed herself. “I’m her mother. I will do it.”
Chris drew his .45 from his holster and handed it to Buffey. She grasped the gun and turned back to Lori, who was now attempting to rise up from her position on the bed. Chris left the room and pulled the door closed behind him. As he walked through the kitchen, he noticed Ronnie on the couch, quietly loading up the guns he had brought with him. Chris’ heart sank, as he realized why Ronnie was not torn by grief. The aimless pounding on the outside of the house reinforced the fact that the dead were still outside and were not giving any bereavement time for the despairing family.
A single shot filled the house and brought the grieving process to a grinding halt as Buffey stepped out of the bedroom seconds later. Buffey handed Chris back his .45 silently. She went to Ashleigh, who was soothing the now-fussy newborn, and knelt down. She gently placed her hand on the infant’s head and stroked the small tuft of brown hair on his head. Buffey smiled as she did, then turned to Ronnie and did the same. All who were in the house sensed a switch had flipped in Buffey that had not shown itself before. She rose to her feet and looked toward the front door and the teeming horde outside. Ronnie slammed the breech shut on his double barrel and got to his feet. Emotionless, he snapped to.
“Let’s go kill some motherfuckin’ zombies.”
CHAPTER 12
“You ever did this before?” Andrew asked as Donnie fumbled with the indiscriminate mess of wires that were under the steering column.
Donnie turned and gave a scowl to Andrew. Andrew shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. The men had left out of their abode for the night nearly two hours before, and had finally found a suitable vehicle for the rest of their journey. Fate was not as kind to them as they realized that the vehicle did not have any keys. It was an older model Ford pickup with a camper top on the back, perfect for carrying the group further on their way. The vehicle had been left in front of an old farmhouse. From the front of the house, it had looked abandoned and none of the men wanted to find out if the hunch was spot on or not. Donnie had volunteered to attempt to hot-wire the vehicle, to little interest. As Andrew stood over Donnie questioning him, Jamie and Joe kept an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. After their run-in with J.W. and his band of goons and their dispatching of James, they had all come to the realization that there were worse things out there than the walking dead.
Joe silently knelt down and put his head between his legs. His head hurt. He wanted to take some of the Excedrin that he had in his pack, but he knew better. He didn’t know how long it would last or when he would be able to get more. The trek so far had yielded little in the way of supplies. Taking the road less traveled was a good move, but did not have anything in the way of stores or shops for them to replenish anything that they happened to use. Joe got to his feet and looked down the winding road ahead that they would hopefully be traveling soon. The weather had finally taken mercy on them and let up the relentless rain that had soaked them the day before. The temperature, however, was not as kind as the rain moved out, cold moved in. The temperature had dropped in the night at least fifteen degrees and was holding steady around 55 degrees. Joe shivered as he turned back towards his comrades, now in full argument over Donnie’s carjacking abilities. Joe stepped in between the three men and separated them.
“What’s the problem?” Joe addressed.
“I really don’t think Donnie knows how to do this shit, because we are still stuck here. I’m freezing’ my ass off and I would like to get on the road sometime soon,” Andrew said, backing away from the group.
“Dude just calm down,” Joe negotiated “Donnie, can you do this or do we need to move on?” Joe said as he sternly stared at Donnie. “Cause if you can’t we can go look for keys in the house or start hoofing it down the road.”
Donnie sullenly looked down. Joe did not need an answer. The non-response from Donnie was good enough. “I see,” Joe turned to Andrew. “Stay here and hold it down. Jamie and I will go inside for a few minutes. If we don’t find the keys right away, we hit the road. Agreed?” Andrew rolled his eyes and nodded. That wa
s all the approval Joe needed. “Come on, Jamie. Quick run through the house, in and out.”
“Alright, come on. I’m not getting any warmer standin’ out here anyway” Jamie slyly grinned as he stepped out towards the front of the old farmhouse. Joe fell in line behind him as they strode up to the front door. Joe slid the stock down shorter on his AR-15 to go inside. Jamie did the same as they approached the front door of the house. It was a big, old early 20th century farmhouse. It was a typical whitewash color, two stories tall. The second floor was pockmarked with chipped and peeling paint from years of mistreatment. The entire building gave off a creepy aura that Joe could not shake. It reminded him of the house in Amityville, the two second-story windows watching his every move. The early morning lack of sunshine further created the illusion that the house was watching them. Joe shook the unnerving feeling away and felt the door handle. It was unlocked. Jamie blew a sigh of relief as Joe opened the door. Joe frowned and looked at him. Jamie did not notice Joe’s stare for a few seconds.
“What? I didn’t wanna almost break my fuckin foot again,” Jamie finally retorted.
Joe chuckled and pouted his lower lip, “It’s okay big fella, I got this.” Jamie took his hand off his trigger finger and gave Joe the bird, which prompted another bit of laughter from him. Joe happily relieved the tension. He clicked on the flashlight on the end of his rifle and shone the light in the doorway. He did not see any movement or anything out of the ordinary. He turned to Jamie and waved him inside the creepy house. Joe craned his head back and heard Andrew and Donnie still arguing over the attempt of the hotwiring of the vehicle. Joe rolled his eyes and sighed. He refocused his attention back inside the house. Jamie was already through the threshold and scanning around for the truck keys. Joe marched in behind of him and looked about the house.
Six Feet From Hell: Books 1 - 3 Page 13
