Gabriella made a sound of disgust and ran up the stairs, heading for the roof door. Virginia followed with Charles close behind. As they emerged onto the roof, a piercing scream rose above the moans from the infected. They joined Gabriella leaning over the roof’s edge and saw a woman scramble over the wrought iron fence of the cemetery, the infected stumbling after her. It was a good move on her part; the dead were too uncoordinated to climb the fence although they continued to mass against it in growing numbers. Where had she come from and what could have made her desperate enough to run out into a throng of hungry dead? The noise was drawing several of the coal chute besiegers and-she ran to check-those by the front doors of the library as well. Charles had already assessed the change in situation and, motioning to Gabriella, they sped down to the front doors, pulling them open and making sure Carson closed them behind them. Virginia called back, asking Carson to watch both children while they were gone. They descended into an almost deserted street, snowflakes swirling around them and the unsettling sound of moaning from one hundred or more dead throats just around the corner.
Chapter 13
Hell is empty
And all the devils are here.
The Tempest
-William Shakespeare
Charles motioned for them to move down the street, away from the cemetery side of the building. To Virginia her footsteps crunching in the snow sounded appallingly loud. The three of them rounded the library and passed into the narrow parking lot for the attorney’s office next door. An enormous white oak jutted up against the security fence that marked the boundary of the service entrance to the hospital. Charles entwined his fingers and made a mount for Virginia to climb to the lowest tree branch. She climbed up until she reached a branch that overhung the hospital side of the fence. Creaking branches below told her Charles and Gabriella were close behind. She moved cautiously as far out as she felt the branch would support her weight; then dropped to the snow covered asphalt below. Her feet slid out from under her and she hit the ground, winded and struggling to catch her breath. An excited drawn out moan sounded to her left and she turned to see an enormous man, infected, blue gray lips open and teeth bared. He wore a torn, brown UPS uniform. One foot was broken almost completely off but he walked on the point of his shin, the sharp bone stabbing the ice as he closed in on her. He had a look of frantic hunger on his face, his hands pulling the entrails out of the wide-open hole in his abdomen, bringing them up to his mouth only to spit them out seconds later.
Still trying to gulp in air, Virginia rolled over onto her back, willing her lungs to work again and saw Gabriella in the tree looking down at her, horrified and seemingly too shocked to move. Not wanting to use her gun and draw more of the infected, she reached for the knife in her boot, but before she could draw it, the dead man was on her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her up, sending a wrenching pain through her shoulder. His teeth closed down on her jacket, bruising her arm through the leather. Virginia struggled in vain, this guy was huge and not letting go. He fastened one enormous paw on her face and yanked her head toward his open mouth. She pulled both legs up off the ground. That threw him off balance enough for him to fall, unfortunately directly on top of her. Once again, she couldn’t breathe and as she kicked and bucked to no effect, she heard a gunshot, so close her ears rang. Someone rolled the now unmoving deliveryman off her. Gabriella and Charles helped her to her feet and they all stepped carefully around the mess of skull fragments and brain tissue.
“Ok? Did he bite you?” She shook her head, still breathless. “Good, let’s move.” Charles turned and led the way down the concrete ramp to the delivery entrance. One of the double doors stood partially open, and fluorescent lighting spilled out onto the snow. They moved inside cautiously but the corridor was empty, no blood on the floor, and no indication of anything amiss.
“Ladies, this is where I leave you. I have to try to find the woman we saw in the graveyard. If she’s still alive, I’ll try to bring her back to the library. I don’t have to tell you to get in and out as quickly as you can. I don’t know where the hospital dispensary is so you’re going to have to find that on your own. Let’s plan to meet back at the front doors in, say, twenty minutes?”
He walked away into the dark. Gabriella‘s hands shook, Virginia noticed, but she strode determinedly ahead. Doors on both sides of the hallway were marked with either the room’s function or else just numbers. Nothing said “Dispensary”. One door marked “Supplies” contained cleaning supplies and other chemicals. Just ahead, the hall branched into two corridors.
“Let’s not make the classic “Let’s split up” mistake. Which way do you think? Right or left?
“Left. That will take us closer to the elevators so maybe it is closer to them for convenience sake, yes?” Gabriella said.
They walked on. Gabriella’s sneakers squeaked on the shiny floor. The building smelled of cleaner with something more foul underneath. At the next branching, they heard a dull banging sound growing louder once they turned in the direction they thought would take them to the elevators. They both pulled their guns and sidled along the wall as the sound grew in intensity. It came from a set of (presumably) locked metal doors just ahead. Something was hitting them so hard they vibrated. A few feet farther down the wall, a set of small windows allowed them to look inside.
They saw a green tiled room containing a number of gurneys, three stainless steel sinks, and large round drain covers in the floor. Two dead children, one probably twelve, the other around seven, were slamming into the metal doors. Their wrists were bound with surgical tape. Their legs were free though tape still hung from their ankles. Three more children writhed and thrashed about on the floor with arms and legs still trussed. All had tightly curled hair and skin a chalky dark gray. Virginia realized they were probably looking at the orphaned children from Haiti. There was nothing they could do for them.
Backtracking quickly, they turned right at the previous branching. This led past the hospital laundry and a service elevator. Still no dispensary. Virginia estimated they had been searching for about forty five minutes and she was worried. They had little chance of making it through the heavily infested upper floors. If they didn’t find the medicine on this floor, they would have to leave without it and she feared Gabriella would refuse.
Finally they finished searching every room they could access, winding up in the maintenance supervisor’s office. Gabriella sat down at a desk, put her head in her hands, and began to cry. Virginia stood by the door, feeling helpless and angry.
Gabriella stood up and paced angrily around the room. Eyes narrowed and fists clenched she kicked anything she could, trashcans, the copy machine, all while a torrent of Spanish poured out of her mouth.
“Dios mío, estoy tan cerca! Todo este hospital y nada! El por qué, la razón…” she continued to rave as she knocked over a coat rack, revealing a silver, soft-sided briefcase on the floor, hidden before by the long folds of a winter coat. At the sight of it, she stopped and fell to her knees, a look of dawning hope on her face. She unzipped the side of the case and the flap fell open to reveal neatly packaged syringes, needles and vials. Frozen gel packs maintained the temperature. It was a diabetic travel kit that must have belonged to a hospital employee. Gabriella cradled it in her arms and smiled at Virginia.
“Tiempo para ir ahora” Virginia understood perfectly. She grabbed one of the overturned trashcans and they left the room and returned to the service entrance. The parking lot outside looked clear, except for the remains of the infected deliveryman. The upside down trashcan was just the right height for a boost back into the oak. They climbed up and over to the other side of the fence, Gabriella with the kit hung round her neck. Still crouching in the branches, they surveyed the area for infected but saw nothing. Snow was falling still, erasing their footprints from earlier. The only sound that broke the silence was- Virginia felt her whole body tense- a liquid slurping sound.
It came from behind the dumpster in the
corner. She looked up at Gabriella in the branch above and put her finger to her lips. Gabriella nodded. They dropped to the pavement as silently as they could and Virginia held her gun in front of her. Their footsteps crunched but the wet gulping continued. They rounded the side of the dumpster.
A woman crouched over a body on the ground. She buried her face in the stomach of her victim and then sat back, shaking her head to pull the chunk of dark meat free from the corpse. Though they stood less than five feet from her, she seemed unaware of them. The front of her blouse was soaked with blood and gore, her skirt filthy. She was shoeless, her stockings torn and shredded. Heart sinking, Virginia recognized Sue Norris, former public defender for the town of Tunbridge Wells.
As she chewed noisily and groped through the exposed viscera, the body on the ground shifted and a police officer’s badge on the front of the victim’s shirt glinted briefly in the streetlight. Gabriella stifled an anguished sob.
Sue turned her head in their direction. A dirt coated flap of skin on the left side of her face hung loose from the empty eye socket on down. Her left eye dangled as well. Her hand still digging in the intestines of her meal, she tried to stand but her hand was either stuck inside or she lacked the intelligence to understand she had to let go before she could get up. The ensuing struggle might have been comical in another situation. The corpse shifted again and the face fell to one side. It was Kincaid. He wouldn’t be coming back as the living dead. Someone had already put a bullet through his temple.
Without hesitation, she walked over to Sue, grabbed her by the hair, stuck her gun in the bloody mouth, and fired. A chunk filled black mist spattered the snow and the former PD sagged to the ground. Virginia and Gabriella sidestepped the foul smelling mess and walked on. Something had gone wrong. Charles could fill her in and if he wasn’t back yet, Carson would know. Larry’s presence in their stronghold was an unfortunate fact and she wouldn’t be surprised if he had something to do with this.
The thick wooden library doors stood open and Gabriella had already disappeared inside. Virginia stood in the snow, trying to make sense of the scene. Whatever had caused Kincaid to leave, he would have shut the doors behind him. The snow in the street was heavily trampled and footsteps led in several directions. A slow shuffle and then a crunch sounded around the corner and a staggering corpse advanced toward her. More and more grotesque, shambling infected closed in, hissing at her with red stained teeth. She froze. She knew she had to get inside but she feared what she would find there. She shot a fast moving one in the head from five feet away. All her reflexes told her to move and still she stood there. Finally, her survival instincts kicked in. She ran for the steps, slamming the doors behind her.
There were no signs of violence near the circulation desk or in the hallway. She checked on Daniel. He was still asleep. In the back office, she found Gabriella with Mari. The open insulin kit and a used syringe lay on the floor. Larry’s dog still stood guard by the cot and a low growl came from his throat until he recognized her. Gabriella held Mari’s hands to her cheek and smiled.
“I think she will be better now. She just needs sleep.”
Virginia brushed the little girl’s hair from her cheek. She seemed to be resting easier.
“Have you seen anyone else? I only found Daniel.”
“No, no one but I have been only here. I can help you look now I think.”
They searched but found no one. Virginia went back to the reading room and pulled her shotgun out from behind the set of Encyclopedia Britannica. Her jacket pockets were still full of shells as well as rounds for the handgun.
“Carson wouldn’t leave the children alone. He has his problems but he wouldn’t abandon children. I wouldn’t put anything past Larry though. Charles should be back any moment. Let’s talk to him and see if he has any ideas.” Gabriella nodded and went back to Marisol. Virginia leaned against the front doors and slowly slid to the ground. She would wait here to be sure she heard Charles when he got back. Raspy moans and scratching at the door followed her into dreams.
Chapter 14
For though it be something wonderful to tell, that any should have hearts so hardened in the midst of such a calamity, yet certain it is that all sorts of villainies… were then practiced in the town as openly as ever.
-Journal of the Plague Year
She woke an hour or so later, thirsty and in need of a bathroom. The men’s room was closest and, with no men in residence, she stumbled in and that’s where she found Charles. He was unconscious; his face and hair streaked and matted with blood. She and Gabriella dragged him carefully into the reading room and wrapped him in their coats. A jagged laceration on his scalp bled copiously. They cleaned it with paper towels and doused it with the Stolichnaya from the librarian’s desk but there was little else they could do.
Virginia grabbed her backpack and guns making sure both firearms were loaded. Her backpack fell over when she tossed it on the chesterfield and the edges of a manila envelope slid out the top. Bill’s papers. That would keep her awake so she could keep watch on Charles. She thumbed through them and settled in to read.
The following letter is from a private collection of correspondence between Sir Walter Raleigh and his wife, Lady Elizabeth Raleigh (nee Throckmorton). Raleigh journeyed to the land of Guiana in 1595 and returned with two natives, whom he presented to the Queen at Greenwich Palace that same year. Although he later wrote an account of the voyage entitled The Discoverie of the Large, Rich, and Beautiful Empire of Guiana, which became a bestseller of the time, he did not mention the events in Dorset described below.
My Lord
I write you concerning the contagion introduced into our household with the arrival of the youth Cayoworaco and his compatriot Arawayo. The mischief done unto us at Sherborne surpasses belief. I have taken steps to conceal news of this illness and it is my prayer that we see no more of it. My poor hand trembles as I recall our ordeal.
Cayoworaco fell ill upon your departure for Plymouth. We thought him merely fatigued of his journey. He from the first complained much of the coldness of our climate compared to his father’s land of Guiana. Afflicted as if by an ague, his shivering was soon accompanied by vomiting. The coldness of his body increased and he succumbed to death at one hour before noon. My sorrow was great, it being my fondest hope to bring this young savage to the love of Christ and for him to return to his father’s land and bring the Good News to his people. Vicar was with him in his last hours and being much grieved by the suffering he saw, remained to pray at the bedside.
It being laundry day, and cousin Brayford having the toothache, I left to supervise the women on the lawn. After a time, vicar came outside and took his leave and I sent Peg and Eliza to wash the body. The lad died unbaptised and unshriven so I directed that ground be prepared outside the churchyard in which to lay his poor body to rest. I directed my man Watt to find Arawayo and break the news of his chief’s young son’s death. When told, Arawayo was much agitated and made us to understand that poor Cayoworaco must have his head removed from his body before burial, in accordance with their customs. Such barbary! Would that we had heeded this advice in time.
Eliza found me and declared Cayoworaco’s body was not to be found. I returned with her to the bedside which was indeed empty. We were much bemused and wondering when began a commotion out of doors under the keep. Hurrying thither we found Peg fallen under the line of drying bed linens, lying on her side and drenched in blood. Her arm was torn from its socket. A hissing sound alerted us and we turned to see Cayoworaco, not dead but fully restored to life- but such a transformation! His mouth dripped blood as he gnawed on the arm that he had wrenched from the girl. His eyes were filmed over as with the whiteness of old age. He came at us anon only to be felled by Arawayo. The two grappled and fought until Arawayo, seizing the iron pot set out to boil the linen, struck Cayoworaco divers times until his head was a stinking pulp of bone and flesh. He then walked over to poor Peg and proceeded to shatter her brains
. Our horror froze us and we had not the wits to flee. I felt surely we were the next to die but Arawayo merely sat on the ground and inspected the wounds of his body. All this time, the household watched us from the gate to the kitchen garden, ready to flee if approached. Cowards! They did not make a move to save any of us. My anger waxed hot and I approached them intent on upbraiding the lot just as my man Watt appeared from the keep entrance. He had armed himself with a claymore and flew forward with the vigor of the warrior he had been in his youth. Confused by the placidity of Arawayo who remained seated calmly on the ground, Watt stopped and looked askance at me. Together we cautiously approached the savage. I saw wounds on his body that appeared to me to be bites. I entreated him to explain to me this fantastic occurrence. A pained expression crossed his face. He drew a flint dagger from the sash around his waist and slashed his throat from ear to ear. Blood cascaded forth and he lay dead.
I am left to ponder this event and search for a cause. Our household has been cautioned to speak of this to no one and I hope any rumors soon die away. Vicar believes all to be a result of a sudden brain fever of Arawayo, a tropical disease brought from Guiana. I revealed not to him the revival of Cayoworaco and his role. All remains have now been buried.
Poor Peg’s mother and father are inconsolable. She was their only child.
Although it seemed barbarous, I allowed Watt to sever the head of Arawayo. I deemed it a worthy precaution.
Your loving wife,
Bess
The Living Dead (Book 1): Contagion Page 10
