*
Just as she suspected, Grady was deserted. The few houses that surrounded the hospital were deserted, too. For whatever reason, unknown to her, these families had fled. Was it some sort of disease? If so, was she exposed? Were the explosions she’d heard earlier a way of containing whatever it was? She felt sick with uncertainty.
She parked around back, inside the old parking garage. It had been abandoned months ago, when most of the other hospital employees had been laid off. Now, it was covered in a fine layer of dust, leaves, and other debris that had blown in over time. She shut off her car, thinking about what to do.
After a few minutes of silence only broken by Petey gnawing on his bone, Gina made up her mind. She wasn’t ready to spend a night in her car – not yet anyway, though she suspected that soon enough, she would be. Whatever was happening seemed big, and she had a gut feeling that it wasn’t just happening around here.
“Come on, Petey,” she said, opening the car door. Petey grabbed his bone and jumped out, taking a moment to stretch before running around the parking garage. “Stay close.”
She rummaged through her bags, unsure of what to grab. In the end, she left it all behind with the exception of the flashlight. The hospital would have everything she needed.
Together, she and Petey set out, climbing up the steps and crossing the ancient walkway that connected the parking garage to the hospital. The main power was off, but sometime after she had left, the power generator had kicked in. She slid her key card through the door, the light flashing green and unlocking. She opened the door, letting Petey go in first.
The hospital was deserted, just like it had been earlier in the day. Only essential lights and systems were on, casting most of the hospital in a ghastly glow. “Hello?” she called, but there was no answer. Petey perked up to her voice’s echo, but calmed down when she scratched him behind the ears.
She retreated to the employee’s quarters, in the back of the hospital. She made sure the door was locked behind her – just in case there was someone here. Then, she found one of the rooms she would spend the night in. She kept the blinds drawn. There was no point looking outside – it was all trees, and she didn’t like the idea of someone peering in at her while she slept, though she banished that thought from her mind. That would be ridiculous.
She changed out of her dirty clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. Something told her no one would mind. Then she went into the employee restroom, turning the shower on to full blast. She got the water piping hot and stepped in, grabbing soap, shampoo, and conditioner from a shelf next to her. Petey sat at the edge of the room, standing guard. For once, she felt at ease. Petey wouldn’t let her down.
She stayed in the shower for a long time, uncaring as to whether she was sucking up the rest of the hospital’s power. That surprised her, but there it was. Before everything had spiraled out of control, she’d done everything in her power to stick to the books. She took pride in her job. She never would have left dirty clothes on the hospital floor, or used up all of the hot water. Now, it didn’t matter.
When she was finally done, completely pruned up, she grabbed one of the hospital’s supplied towels and started to dry off. As she did so, she thought of what her next move would be.
Tomorrow morning, at first light, she would gather up as many hospital supplies – medicine, pills, IVs, first aid kits, gauze – all she could think of, and stuff it into her car. She would bring more clean clothes and towels, tools, anything she could get her hands on and that would fit in the car. She had a bad feeling that she would need all of these things in the near future. If not, then she would just return it all when all of this blew over.
Then she would hunt down the gas that powered the generators and some of the other machines here. She knew there were a few barrels and cans of the stuff, hidden out back behind a fence. She would need that to get where she had finally decided on going.
Her destination wasn’t great, but at least she had one now: her stepfather’s house, four hours north of Haysberry. They had never been friendly towards each other, and after her mother had passed away, they’d gladly never spoken to each other again. But he was the only family Gina had left. She might even recognize some people in her hometown. It would be better than being alone, anyway.
So with that in mind, she pulled on some clean scrubs and crawled into a bed. Petey jumped up next to her, leaving the bone on the floor. He snuggled up close, and Gina wrapped her arms around him. Together, they fell into an uneasy sleep.
*
Gina awoke to light streaming through the window. Petey was still sleeping next to her. She lay in silence for a few minutes, straining to hear anything else in the hospital – but she heard nothing. Slowly, she got up. Petey jumped down, then started jumping against her legs. She knew he was hungry, but she’d left all of his food in the car.
“We’ll get you some food soon,” she told him. He gave her a wary look, but stopped jumping on her and seemed to accept that.
Gina wasted no time in ransacking the hospital. Petey followed closely, keeping an eye on her. She filled up duffel bag after duffel bag full of everything she thought she, or anyone else she met, might need sometime down the road. If this thing was widespread, this stuff would soon be in short supply. She ferried the bags back and forth from the hospital to her car.
When her car could fit no more supplies without the need to sacrifice her own seat, she turned her attention to getting gas for her trip. She found the key to the back door in the security office where it always was, mercifully left behind. Already tired and aching, she went towards the back of the hospital.
The smell of smoke was strong in the air when she opened the door, but the fire didn’t appear to be anywhere close to the hospital. For that, she was thankful. She wandered around, looking at all of the stuff laying outside in the maintenance area: gas cans, bottles of oil, a small tool shed packed full of tools. It was all enclosed in a chain link fence, topped with barbed wire. They’d had a few break-ins in the past, but she hadn’t been here when they’d happened, luckily.
She bent down to pick up the twin gas cans, but stopped short as Petey started barking. Gina jumped up, watching Petey sprint towards the fence. Standing there was a man, a pistol outstretched in his hand. His eyes were wide, crazed, and they never left Gina’s face.
“Hello,” she said hesitantly. The gun was trained directly on her chest. Petey was at the fence, snapping at the man, but he couldn’t get his snout through the fence enough to score a bite. “Can I help you?”
The man didn’t answer at first, but then said in a low, reedy voice, “What are ya doin’ in there?”
“I’m a doctor, sir. I work here.”
“Well, ain’t that so. Let me in,” he said, waving the pistol towards the gate in the fence. There was a heavy padlock on it. It had deterred most thieves, but she didn’t know how well it would hold up to gunfire.
“I can’t, sir. The hospital’s closed.”
“Mmm,” the man hummed. He licked his lips. His crazed eyes looked to the gate, then dropped to his pistol, and she knew that he was considering it. “I’m gonna have to ask again, ma’am. Let me in.”
“Sir –”
“LET ME IN!!” he roared. Gina flinched at his outburst, and Petey whined in surprise. The man kicked out, lashing at Petey, but he was quickly back between Gina’s legs, growling.
The man was running towards the gate, the gun outstretched, so Gina turned and ran. She reached the door, turned back and saw the gas cans that she had left. She made a move to get them, but heard a gunshot and the gate swing open, so she fled back inside the building.
Petey was right behind her, barking and yelping as they went, running down the hospital hallway. Behind her, Gina heard another gunshot ring out and the wall next to her exploded in a burst of plaster. The gunshot echoed throughout the hall, and Gina covered her ears without slowing.
She didn’t hear another shot the entire leng
th of the hallway, and soon Petey and she were passing the welcome desk. She flung the door to the walkway open, Petey hot on her heels. Then they were in the garage.
Gina flung the door open, dropping into the driver’s seat immediately. Petey jumped across her lap, taking up residence in the passenger seat, standing and looking out the window, growling. She slammed the door, turned the key in the ignition, and they squealed out of the parking garage in a few short seconds.
“Oh, my God,” she said, as much to Petey as to herself. That had been close. Luckily, she had ditched the man in the hospital. What had been wrong with him?
She didn’t have to try to remember him for long; with a bang he burst out of a side door to her rear, waving the gun wildly. She heard the gun firing, loud even this far away. There were a couple of dull thunks as the bullets penetrated the body of the car, but both she and Petey seemed to have escaped unscathed.
She turned out of the drive and into the road as the man fired one last shot. She ducked her head instinctively, another dull thunk in the side of the car, and there was a burst of fire in her leg. She screamed in pain, swerving, but managed to keep to the road.
Gina looked down at her thigh. As she watched, a deep red bloomed on her bright pink scrubs. She’d been hit. She’d been shot. That man had shot her. She could barely believe what had happened. The pain had been a flash of brightness, but had dulled considerably – she knew it was the adrenaline coursing through her.
It hadn’t hit the artery, or else she knew she would be close to dead already. Still, she was bleeding badly. She could feel the warm wetness running down her thigh, soaking her seat. She could hear the drip of her blood falling on the floor mat. Beside her, Petey whined.
Gritting her teeth, with one hand on the wheel, she reached in the backseat, fumbling for a first aid kit, gauze, styptic powder – anything that could slow down the bleeding. She knew that she would need stitches too, but first, she had to get out of this area. She couldn’t risk that man running up on her while she was sewing herself shut.
Gina found a first aid kit, stacked among the bags in the back, and tossed it into the seat next to Petey. He jumped out of the way. “Sorry, Petey,” she told him, unzipping the bag with one hand, only half paying attention to the road.
She switched hands on the wheel, used her free one to rip the scrubs apart where the bullet had entered her left thigh. Then she switched hands again, grabbing some styptic powder and ripping it open with her teeth. She covered the wound with it, hoping it would be enough – but knowing it wouldn’t.
She was going to have to pull over. There was no other choice. She glanced in the mirror, hoping that she had put enough distance between her and Grady. She started to pull over to the side of the road, but as she did so, she noticed a beat-up black truck coming towards her.
The truck started to slow, to pull up next to her – and Gina gunned it. In her mirror, she saw the door swing open, and a man in frayed cut-offs climbed out. He aimed a rifle at her, but didn’t fire. He paused, then shook his head, and climbed back in.
What in the hell? she thought. What is going on?
She was so wired up that she couldn’t even imagine stopping. But she was really starting to get woozy. She would have to stop soon, whether she wanted to or not. Thoughts echoed and repeated.
What in the hell?
What is going on?
What in the-
Gina’s head slumped against the wheel and she listed to one side. Her car slid from the right lane into the left. She came to and sucked in a breath, jerking the wheel to the right. Petey let out a yelp of alarm as he was pitched to the side. Gina blinked rapidly, trying to clear her dimming vision, but it was useless.
“Wha-”
She couldn’t even form a complete word, and darkness started to close in.
What is going on?
Petey.
Then her head fell against the wheel again and jerked the car to one side. With a crunch and the sound of Petey’s desperate whining, Gina’s car careened off the road.
*
There was a loud noise, loud enough to shake the ground underneath Dean’s feet. He looked up from his meal pack and at the swinging lights above him. Something had just hit, right near the shelter. Another bomb? It was a possibility, but he hoped that yesterday was the first and last of them.
He considered his options for a few moments, then got up out of the metal chair and set his meal pack down on the table, half unfinished. He’d had them before, but he hadn’t remembered just how vile they were. Still, it was food, and he was lucky enough to have a surplus. He could choke it down.
Should he go outside and check out what had happened? The answer was a resounding no, but he found himself leaving his kitchen anyway. He was curious; he could at least peer through the peephole in the door. That couldn’t hurt.
He entered the hallway, if you could call it that. It was 60 feet of solid, cold concrete. The kitchen was at the far end of it, a staircase leading upwards to the surface on the other. To his left was the small bathroom, to his right the generator room, full of everything that kept this place going. Before he quite knew what he was doing, he was closing in on the staircase. Now to his left was his bedroom: a small, quaint room with a table for work, a recliner for reading, and a cot for sleeping. To his right was the storeroom, packed full of gasoline, oil, tools, and all of the extra food that he couldn’t fit into the kitchen.
The stairs were ancient steel, built to last. He clambered up them slowly, heart beating in his chest. The door was built of solid steel, too. It was thick, pure metal, with reinforcing bars running through it to lock it into the concrete door frame. There was no way this door was getting opened if he didn’t want it open.
And now, for some reason, he did.
The peephole was small, unnoticeable from the outside door. Hell, the whole bunker was unnoticeable: it was built into the cliff face that made up half of a massive stone gully. The side the bunker was on was sheer rock, straight up for nearly a hundred feet. The other side was part of a mountain, covered in thick overgrowth and giant trees. The slope was nearly 70 degrees, so it had seen few visitors over the years.
As one last precaution, thanks to nature, the rock wall and bunker, were covered in a mass of creeping vines. Unless you were standing right in front of the door, it was invisible, and no one was stupid enough to climb down the slope. After all, what was the point of climbing all the way down, and then back up, for nothing?
His little part of paradise.
Or, rather, it had been.
About 20 feet to the left of the shelter, there was a huge patch of crushed undergrowth. Even one of the smaller trees had been knocked down.
“What the hell?” Dean muttered to himself. He decided that he had to go check it out, even if he hadn’t wanted to. He turned and ran swiftly down the stairs. His shoulders brushed each side of the hallway, but he didn’t notice the claustrophobia, for once. He had to figure out what was going on. His survival could depend on it.
He went into the storeroom and flipped on the light. The energy-saving lightbulb took a few seconds to come on. By the time it had, he’d already grabbed what he needed and was back out the door. In one hand, he held one of his grandfather’s old Geiger counters. In the other, his grandfather’s .357 Magnum. Whatever was out there, he intended to make short work of it and be back inside before he was in any real danger.
He stopped at the door, aiming the Geiger counter forward. He flipped it on, relieved to find that the area was clean. He breathed a sigh of relief he hadn’t even known he’d been holding in. No bomb, then. The area was clear of radiation.
But there was something out there. Something he had to deal with. He steeled himself for whatever was coming next. Dean set the counter down on the stair under his feet and wrenched the massive wheel open on the door, spinning it until the hinges unlocked. Then he pulled with all of his might, swinging the door inwards. He peeked the magnum out first, then
swung his head out.
Kenny (Shifter Football League Book 2) Page 77
