From a dark hallway behind a massive circular information counter, emerged the source of the other splashing sound; the distorted shape of a woman. The ghoul approached lazily until she saw the group, then raised her head up stiffly and picked up her pace. With arms outstretched she moved nearer; a dry sucking sound as her lungs filled with a high pitched, almost urgent yearning. Mason stepped forward to meet her advance, twirling his climbing axes in each hand he moved in a half circle around her. She diverted from her course and lunged. He deflected the dead woman’s arms to the side with the left-handed axe, spinning her off balance. He brought the right-hand axe over and downward; piercing the skull. The body jerked hard, its right shoulder began twitching faster than Mason thought possible in a death-twitch spasm. His axe, made for climbing, held firm to the woman’s skull, as it was designed to. Mason kicked at the flailing woman and twisted his axe blade as if it were a bottle-opener to work it free. The body fell and convulsed on the floor leaving Mason standing with a disgusted expression. For a moment he thought of discarding the axes, and just returning to the use of his sword. But he remembered that any new weapon takes some time to get used to; with that thought, he kicked at the ghoul’s head as if it were a soccer ball. After the impact of a motorcycle boot and the crunching sound of small vertebrae, the body twitched no longer.
Mason froze and listened for more creatures but heard only the sound of water dripping. The smell of old smoke and stale mold filled the air. He crouched and scanned the area and saw nothing. He relaxed, straightened up, spun his hand axes once more, and decided to keep using them for the time being. He turned to look at Nikki and lifted a hand as if to say, “After you.”
Nikki recognized Jack’s motions with the climbing axes as the same ones he used in the sporting goods store. It was odd to see a maneuver practiced, and then later on, put to deadly use. She was going to have to think about practicing some moves of her own; deflecting then striking. Her mental analysis was almost detached from the horrors of what Mason was doing, until he kicked the corpse. Nikki knew it had to be done, but something about the way Mason did it unsettled her. Kicking someone in the head seemed so monstrous, but then again these were monsters. Mason seemed a little too comfortable with physical violence. Almost as if he was listening to her thoughts, Mason turned and motioned for her to show them to the pharmacy bringing a chill to her spine. She almost smiled when Tony moved in front of her and proceeded towards the information desk.
They took a left at the information desk and moved down a long wide hallway. The hallway dipped downwards at an angle for thirty feet and another hallway was soon to their left. The rest of the original hallway continued upwards for fifty more feet. They might have just disregarded the rest of the hallway except for the growling sounds ahead, and the scraping, and the banging.
Mason lifted a hand and motioned to the group to stop. He looked with a curious expression to Tony who looked down, seeming to concentrate on his hearing. The sound up ahead was consistent, not growing louder or diminishing, it wasn’t approaching. Tony looked to Mason and shrugged. Nikki tapped Tony on the shoulder and pointed to an alcove off the hallway to their left. She then pointed to the open double doors that separated the smaller hallway from the larger one. She tucked her gun under her arm then opened her palms and made a motion of two doors closing with her hands standing in as doors. Tony nodded and they all moved into the smaller hallway; Mason on one door, Tony on the other, they closed them slowly and quietly.
Moving into the alcove, they saw that the area dead-ended in a large waiting area for the pharmacy. The room was dark and without windows. Nikki clicked on a flashlight, and Tony clicked his twice to shine a white beam. They saw roped off areas for lines of patients to form and purchase prescriptions. The lines all pointed towards counter areas in the wall that were all locked by rolled down steel shutters.
“Keep an eye on the door” Mason whispered to Billy. Gabe also followed and took position at the door to defend the area. Nikki pushed on one of the metal shutters. It flexed a little and shook with a metallic jiggle that she quickly ceased. No lock was visible on the exterior. Tony examined the large heavy door that stood to the right of the counters. It looked like a wooden door but resounded as metal when Tony tapped at its surface with his aluminum bat. The door had reddish-brown hand prints smeared on its surface. He slumped when he realized that there was no lock on the door. On the left was a keypad and a magnetic card reader, but only a handle on the door without a lock. Tony tried the handle but it wouldn’t budge.
“There’s nothing to drill!” Tony whispered.
Mason tried inserting an axe-blade under one of the shutters. The shutters gave no space to allow his axe entry. Tony set down his bat and unsheathed his combat knife and tried to insert it underneath the shutters to no avail. He turned, his face heavy with disappointment.
“What the hell?” Tony whispered. Mason continued to examine the shutters. Nikki was looking up towards the ceiling.
“What about the ceiling? Like in the bowling alley, can we go over it?” She said.
Tony’s eyes went wide as if he had just heard a brilliant idea. He jumped onto the counter and pushed one of the drop-tiles upward. It rose up off the aluminum rails revealing that the walls that made up the front of the pharmacy went from floor to floor. Tony looked around in the opposite direction and could see other parts of the hospital. He saw support beams, vines of dangling data cables, and heating ducts but not other walls like those of the pharmacy.
“Walls go all the way up.” He said jumping down, “Must be a security feature; like a bank vault.”
Mason studied the hand prints on the door.
“One of those things was trying to get in here but gave up.” Mason observed. Nikki lifted the .380 upwards at the ready.
“They don’t just go away.” Nikki offered. Mason looked to Gabe and Billy; they looked frightened but ready, he gave them a nod. Mason tapped lightly at the door three times, waited a moment and then did it again.
“Maybe someone got bit and was chased in here.” Tony said.
Three knocks answered Mason’s from the other side of the door.
Thirty-One
In the kitchen Veronica set one half of a Vicodin tablet on the marble countertop. She used the side of a thick butcher’s knife to slowly crush the tablet. She scraped the powder into a pile and chopped at it carefully with the blade. Once the powder was fine enough, she set it aside and found a jar of grape jelly in the refrigerator. Taking a spoonful of jelly, she used another spoon to add the powder to the jelly and worked the two together until the Vicodin could no longer be seen. She looked at the mix and sighed. Thinking of her friends in town she hoped they would get back soon.
Veronica couldn’t shake Richardson’s words in her head; she’s your patient now. The weight of the responsibility gnawed at her. The last bed-side vigil she sat didn’t turn out so well. She remembered the cold Army hospital in Oakland, the green cement walls, the way her father’s heart monitor tolled out its echoing notes and the high hard bed they left him on. So many hours she sat at his side at the end as the Lymphoma ate away at his strength.
The more she thought about those horrible memories and felt now the pressure of a patient who needed her, the more she was sure that her future should be in research. She had a knack for medicine and loved studying its practice but the responsibility of caring for the sick was beginning to frighten her. It was no wonder that her father’s doctors seemed so cold towards the end. They must have built up emotional calluses as a self-defense mechanism in that line of work. She understood the need to keep distant from a patient but didn’t think she had the stuff to make such an adaptation; or perhaps she didn’t want to. Looking at her spoon of medicine, Veronica thought that she might be better at research than the actual practice of medicine.
Margaret opened her heavy eyelids and lingered on Veronica for a moment before speaking.
“Good heavens, those pills can give you
a doozy of a headache.” Margaret lifted her arm as if discovering the I.V. tubing leading to the fluid bag hanging from the bedpost.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“We had some company while you were sleeping.”
“Oh, your friends, are they all okay?” Margaret asked relaxing her arm.
“No, they’re not back yet. But I am sure they’re fine.”
“Then where did this come from?”
“While you were sleeping, a helicopter landed with some soldiers.” Veronica said touching her arm, checking the tape that secured the I.V. needle.
“Soldiers?”
“Yes. They were with Mr. Richardson.” Veronica felt her patient tense.
“Is he here now?” Margaret asked.
“No, they flew away to take care of some things but they’ll be back later.”
Margaret made a sour face. “He was such a little shit. You know, he used to shoot cats in town with his BB gun?” Margaret shook her head in disgust. “He was caught red-handed and each time just lied through his teeth.”
“He seemed to be very concerned for you ma’am. He had his men check on you and give you this.” Veronica said quietly.
“I don’t see why…” Margaret wondered. She lifted her trembling left hand and rubbed her chest.
“How are you feeling?” Veronica asked. The old woman frowned in consideration of the question. She hesitated.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She rubbed her breastbone slowly, “Just some heartburn. I shouldn’t have eaten so much. But it was so good.” Margaret smiled.
Veronica took note of the slight spasm in Margaret’s hand. She decided against asking about the tremor, fearing that doing so might only add to the woman’s worries.
“I have a little medicine to help you relax. I put it in some grape jelly; do you think you can swallow it?” Veronica asked.
“Oh, I don’t see why not; I like grape.” The old lady smiled. Veronica fed her the spoon and then offered her some more juice.
“I used to give my son aspirin like this when he was a boy.” Margaret said and then looked off into the distance lost in thought.
“Mrs. McCormack?”
Margaret looked at her, “My son,” she said in a distant tone.
“It’s okay Ma’am, try not to think about that right now.” Veronica tried to calm her. Margaret looked at her skeptically and huffed.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said smiling. “I was just remembering…When they brought my son’s body back from the war, Richardson made such a hullaballoo about us letting him speak at the funeral. That’s why he made a fuss over me. It’s because of Michael.”
“He did mention to his men that your son was a hero.” Veronica said. Margaret nodded knowingly and reached her right hand into her sweater pocket, producing a small black and white photograph.
“This is Michael when he was a baby,” she said proudly, “and my husband Al.” Margaret brushed off the surface of the photo though there was nothing to clean off and handed it to Veronica.
“Very handsome.” Veronica said noticing the style of Margaret’s dress and how young she looked. She thought that it must have been taken before the sixties.
“That’s right after he returned from the Air Force,” Margaret touched her wrist and smiled, “He was eight years younger then I when we got married.” She said with a lively twinkle in her eye.
“Wow, a younger man.” Veronica smiled and returned the photo. Margaret nodded and placed the photo back in her pocket.
“It was quite the scandal around town.” She smiled slyly.
“Michael was a Captain in the Army when we lost him.” Margaret looked at Veronica as if to clarify and added, “The first Iraq war; not the one now.”
Veronica nodded and frowned just a bit.
“Richardson, the one that was here, he made a big speech about Michael’s sacrifice, and how he gave his life for his country.” Margaret’s eyes contracted with anger, “Michael didn’t give his life; it was taken. He was taken from us by men like Richardson who put my son in that situation.”
“Maybe you should try to relax Mrs. McCormack.” Veronica urged gently. The woman ignored Veronica and continued to speak.
“He spoke of how glorious it was to serve and give one’s life in wartime. One of the only things that fellow ever respected and admired was war. War and money, because for that family; the two are one and the same.” Margaret smoothed out the sheet covering her legs in a distracted manner. “You know, not one of them ever served their country?”
Veronica shook her head.
“It’s true. They expect others to risk their lives for the freedom that they yammer on about. My son was a hero. His commanding officer, Major Finch was his name, wrote me a beautiful letter explaining what happened. He gave his life protecting his friends. You’d never see Gavin Richardson sacrifice anything like that… Miserable little shit!”
“Did any of the men in your family serve?” Margaret asked.
“My father was in the Army.”
“Oh, I’ll bet he’s a fine man.” Margaret smiled.
“He was… He passed away a while ago.”
Margaret looked wounded and withdrew her hands close to her chest like a little girl who had touched something she shouldn’t have.
“I’m sorry dear. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s healthy to talk about things isn’t it?” Veronica said. “He was a doctor and did a lot of good with his life. I’m very proud of him.”
“That’s why you stayed here with me, to be like your father?” Margaret said motioning to the spoon on the night stand. Veronica nodded sadly.
“I’m studying medicine.”
At that moment, Veronica saw Margaret’s eyes flutter. The old woman breathed in a deep breath and slumped a bit.
“Ohhh…” Margaret gasped, “I believe your medicine is working.” She smiled.
“You’d better lay down for a while.” Veronica said while lifting her covers and helping the woman. The worn black handle of Margaret’s scissors could be seen poking out from underneath her pillow. Veronica reached for the sheers.
“You shouldn’t keep those under here; you could get hurt.” She said. The woman reached out with a speed that surprised Veronica and caught her arm.
“They’ll be fine. I feel better knowing they’re there.” The old woman said. Veronica replaced the scissors under her pillow and nodded. Margaret settled into a comfortable position on her side facing Veronica. The old woman slid her left hand up underneath the pillow and Veronica wondered if her hand had found the sheers for reassurance. Margaret spoke, though her eyes were closed.
“So you want to take your father’s place; healing people?” The woman’s face became very relaxed as the Vicodin took effect.
“More like research, to find cures for diseases.” Veronica said sadly.
“Like Salk did for Polio?” Margaret mumbled as her body drifted further into relaxation. “You’re a good-girl; I know you can do it.” Veronica’s eyes began to water. Veronica unconsciously pursed her lips almost in a physical effort to control her emotions. The old woman began to snore lightly. Veronica pushed a strand of gray hair back from the woman’s face and tried not to think about that cold hospital room in Oakland.
*****
“Who’s out there?” a deep male voice asked from within the door. Mason was about to speak when Tony nudged Nikki close. Mason looked at her and nodded; after all, this was her town.
“My name’s Nikki Howe, we’re looking for some medicine for a friend.”
The door opened so fast that Mason lifted his axes, ready to strike. Standing in the doorway smiling was Andy Oakes, Nikki’s employer from the lake store and paintball field.
“Nikki?” He gasped squinting and blinking his eyes, then seeing Mason he stepped back, “You? You guys made it off the mountain?” Mason relaxed and Tony smiled. Andy stepped to the side and hurriedly motioned for them
to enter. Once all were inside the windowless room, now only lit by the visitor’s flashlights, Andy closed the door and introduced the newcomers to a woman leaning on the wall inside.
“This is Denise, she works here.” A dark haired woman with tired eyes squinted at Tony’s flashlight beam. Andy rubbed his large hands together and asked, “Say, you guys don’t have anything to eat do you? We’ve been in here for a long time.”
“Yeah, I have a couple of protein bars.” Tony said handing them one each. They quickly opened the foil wrappers and started eating. Tony produced an empty duffle bag from his gear and began perusing the long shelves of the pharmacy with his flashlight.
“How the hell did you get here?” Jack asked. Between bites, Andy began to answer.
“This girl and I got away from the lake when everything went crazy. We met an ambulance on the way down and they brought us here. The girl was bit.” Andy seemed to choke up a bit. “She bit one of the paramedics. There was another girl from the lake, Wanda; she was already in the E.R. by the time we got there. I guess she was infected too.” He finished his protein bar, crumpled the wrapper and threw it aside.
“All we’ve had for the past two days are glucose tablets, multivitamins, and some electrolyte replacement fluid. Stuff tastes like crap!” He added. Mason offered him his canteen, but Andy motioned it towards Denise first.
“This place went crazy, there was an explosion, all kinds of shit…” Andy trailed off. Denise moved to him and gave Andy the canteen. She continued the story.
“It all happened so fast. I’m the weekend administrator here. I have all the keys and knew that we’d be safe in here until the cops came.”
“They never did.” Said Andy, “We got through on the phone and the lady took our names but said she didn’t know when anyone could help. But we figured that out after we found the radio.” Nikki shined her flashlight on Andy.
Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen Page 21
