‘Shit,’ Harry shouted. Harry darted past the creatures, they reached for his shirt. Harry reached the office door unscathed and pushed the man back inside the room. Harry speedily shut the door and locked it.
Harry fell against the wooden door. His back burning from swinging the wrench around. His slid to his ass, the concrete floor was uncomfortable. He slid the wrench across the floor, the metal wrench screeching as it moved.
The old man walked to Harry and leant near Harry’s face in admiration. The blood on the old man’s forehead was dry. Harry prayed to be out of the hospital soon, he didn’t like the fact he might meet new people, that would slow him from reaching James and surviving this mess.
‘Are you the doctor?’ the man asked. Harry felt seduced into fatigue. For the first time in ten years his thighs ached from stress. Just as they did when he used to get overworked at the beach when he tried to save bad swimmers from drowning. Harry wished he had remained a lifeguard, he would still be fit if he was.
The office was darker than Jamie’s. Jamie was a real doctor who depended on him, just like Charlie.
‘I’m Harry. We have to go.’
‘Go?’ the man retreated further into the black room and rustled onto a dimly lit office chair. Behind, the door bangs began and the scratching of nails on the wooden door.
‘Jack Stenton and I want to make a complaint. Do you know who I am? I am Jack…Stenton.’ Jack spoke down to Harry, it was condescending as if he thought Harry was stupid. The wound on Jack’s head could explain the confusion. Maybe this is how the creature thing starts. Harry was losing his patience.
‘Jack, pleased to meet you,’ Harry said. ‘Would you like to follow me to the doctor?’
‘Doctor?’
Harry walked to and sat on the desk. Harry was concerned and tried to look at the wound. As Harry leans in Jack kicks his shin.
‘Shit,’ Harry yelled.
The creatures at the door persevered. One ward of people fallen victim to the illness. God knows how many people have been affected by the disease in the hospital. The diseased people prevented his escape, prevented the night he had planned and prevented a lovely stress-free life.
‘Don’t touch me then, I have rights,’ Jack responded. He tugged at his sagging neck. Harry routed through the desk draws for some identification that would convince the senile man. There was no ID, but there was a little brown bottle with a white cap. Harry checked the label: codeine.
‘Thank god for that.’ Harry opened it, it was a push and screw bottle, there were a handful of pills left. Harry took two pills out and put the bottle in his pants pocket. Jack wasn’t paying attention. Harry sat in the doctor’s chair behind the desk. Time was running out for Charlie.
‘So, Mr Stenton is it? Should I call you Jack?’ Harry rubbed his chin and cracked his knuckles. Jack stood up using significant effort and walked behind the desk to Harry. Harry pulled a sheet from the top desk draw and slid it shut.
‘Doctor I’ve been waiting for hours, what kind of service is this?’
Harry eyed the sheet which was a checklist for some disease that he couldn’t pronounce. He placed the paper writing down on the desk.
‘So sorry Jack, we have been rather busy. How are you and what can I help you with?’ Harry falsified his grin. Jack started reaching into his pocket. Harry was nervous because the wrench was at the door. Jack might knife him like Shane, he had to squelch his paranoia.
‘I was told to come here before my surgery, I’m due an operation on my prostate you know?’
What had Harry got himself into. Honestly ten minutes must have passed since leaving the other room. Charlie was probably knocking at hells door and being refused no doubt.
‘Interesting Jack,’ Harry said, trying to keep things flowing smoothly. ‘We should look at doing the operation another day. Now you need to take these for any pain.’ Harry passed two codeine pills. Harry wanted them for his back pain. He did have the entire bottle. Letting two go to sedate the man wasn’t going to matter.
‘Good,’ Jack said. He snatched the pills from Harry’s hand and swallowed them dry. ‘I am not happy doctor,’ Jack groaned. ‘I want a refund.’
Harry was certain this was a free healthcare facility. Jack’s confusion was apparent. Harry had doubts about the codeine, it wasn’t a promising idea. Harry had to decide to either leave Jack wounded and confused or escort him to the other room and risk being killed. Harry jumped as a thump rattled the office door.
‘Are you coming with me?’
‘Are you taking me to the complaints department?’ Jack replied. Jack’s memory of complaining wasn’t failing, so he might not forget to follow Harry. If Jack lost his way, then it would be sayonara amigo. Harry couldn’t save everyone. There was a glimmer of hope in trying to save people, but how many people could be saved? How far did this disease go? The motorway, the hospital, the town? Where were the police? Harry was battered with stress and tension in his shoulders. He had a deceptive idea.
‘Carry the wrench Jack.’ Harry was suspicious that Jack’s confusion meant he would easily attack people. He had tried to go assault Harry earlier. Jack could beat the shambling beasts, fighting them back whilst Harry collected the blood. It wasn’t perfect, it was a substantial risk.
Jack walked over to the door and picked up the wrench. Harry walked next to Jack. It was a bizarre situation. Harry felt shameful, torn between good and evil. Jack could die trying to get there, Harry accepted the possibility.
‘Ready?’ Harry asked. They stood at the door.
‘Yes,’ Jack replied. Harry unlocked the door, taking deep breaths. He pictured a variety of situations occurring. He saw James’ face as he closed his eyes and James turned into a scrounging attacker. Harry jumped. Then Molly’s face appeared, she was alive and trapped. Harry’s mind cut to James and Molly being chased along the roof of the hospital, forced to jump to their deaths. Harry shuddered.
Harry turned the handle. The gnawing bloody mouths began to rush for him. Harry thumped them as hard as he could. He punched the unrecognisable faces whilst avoiding touching the mouths. Harry kicked out and walloped a few back. He shoved and kicked. Harry tried to grab and throw a nurse, but the nurses top ripped off and revealed green veined breasts. Harry zoned out staring at the breasts, the left one had a nipple piercing.
Jack began to swing and yell as the beasts grabbed his shoulders. Harry continued to fight.
‘Doctor these bastards have gone crazy.’ Jack smacked the corpses on the heads and fought valiantly.
Harry kicked them and a small circle had formed with a gap to the staircase. The child patients continued to crawl and eat Harry’s feet. The topless nurse swayed in the crowd.
Jack jogged out of the circle, turned and faced the crowd whilst Harry pushed the male patients back. They were stiff, their necks cocked. A man wearing a blue golf shirt shuffled forward and his golf hat fell to the floor. Harry launched a boxing jab at the golfer. The black-eyed golfer grabbed Harry’s arm. Jack was being encircled by the pus ridden corpses. Jack hit them hard with a scowl, he smashed a nurse to the floor and brought the wrench down on her head. Her head split in two and green blood spilled onto the corridor floor along with chunks brain matter.
‘Help Jack,’ Harry cried. Harry felt helpless, the golfer was strong. Harry fought to keep the golfer’s mouth from his shoulder. Jack pushed through the shamblers and swung the wrench at the golfer. Jack’s face was covered with blood.
Harry rolled onto the floor. The concrete made his back hurt from Charlie’s inconsiderate attack. Harry crawled to his feet and ran to Jamie’s office. The crowd had thinned, a mess of bodied lay on the corridor floor coveted in green pus and blood. Jack slaughtered the remaining two.
‘Sheila it’s Harry,’ he shouted. ‘Open the door.’ Harry was nervous and didn’t expect the bodies to pile up so quickly. Jack was breaking their skulls with the wrench like an executioner. Jack attacked the last corpse. A man in his thirties wearing
a t-shirt and shorts. Jack punched the wrench into the man’s face and the creature sagged to the floor. It was a blood bath of disintegrated brains.
The corridor was not sparkling anymore. It was vomit inducing and dull. The floor painted in red, blood was splattered on the elevator doors and the walls. The open window at the end of the corridor, the one with the bed and IV stand blew the stench further down the ward.
‘Harry hold on,’ Sheila replied. Jack walked to Harry and handed the dripping wrench to him. Harry was in awe; Jack was a ferocious warrior and had saved his life. Jack was a hero. Charlie was still dying; Harry was running out of time and patience. He didn’t know anyone except Sheila. In life and death situations people only cared about themselves, but not Harry and it annoyed him that he couldn’t leave people in harm’s way.
‘This is going on the complaint,’ Jack said. ‘That nurse had no top on.’ Harry chuckled. Sheila opened the office door; Harry pulled Jack inside and closed the door behind him. Sheila was pale.
‘Is he still breathing?’ Harry asked Sheila.
Jamie was at his desk, waiting for Harry. Shane was still unconscious, now propped up against the left wall. Charlie wasn’t moving yet.
‘Faintly, have you got it?’ Sheila asked.
‘I need more time,’ Harry said. He turned and opened the office door, exiting to the carnage in the corridor. He felt no fear, only motivation. There was no time to be afraid, because he had wasted too much time with strangers instead of looking for his son. He jogged to the staircase, heading down the steps one floor to the storage room. All was quiet. He held the rails for momentum.
Harry jogged to the deserted ward. The blood room door was open. The body was lying in the corridor. Harry froze, his mind flashbacked to the screams of the man as he had been ripped apart. A horrific reminder of his mistake. Harry held the wall, lightheaded. He gathered the strength to carry on. He walked around the body to the blood storage room. Coagulated blood fell off his shoes in chunks as he walked.
Harry pushed the door to the wall, it was empty. The storage room reeked of body odour.
‘Which blood type?’ Harry asked himself. The brown boxes had tumbled to the floor. Harry walked to them, the white labels read A, then B, then AB and finally O. ‘That’s it.’
It was distinctive, a man’s life hung in the balance, he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. He felt obliged to save Charlie. Charlie was a rough man but had helped him into the hospital in the first place.
Harry pulled out two blood bags labelled O type. Having no spare pockets, he tucked one bag down his pants and carried the other bag. He had the wrench in his left hand.
Harry paced back up the stairs and to the doctor’s office. Sheila stood waiting.
‘Harry, get that IV.’ It was extremely lucky that the IV was at the end of the corridor.
Harry handed the blood bags to Sheila who darted back inside. Harry ran over the wrangled bodies down the corridor to the IV. He wrapped the tube and needle up carefully. Harry looked out of the window. Beach town, the motel visible about a mile away. The dirt road was a quiet unused path from main street reserved for emergency use when carriageway was busy. Harry spotted movement along the dirt road. He squinted. Perhaps he was cracking up or stressed to madness. Two police cars were speeding down the dirt road, kicking up a dust hurricane around the vehicles. They were followed by a black van.
Harry watched, relieved, some hope had arrived. The police cars rolled into the car park below. Harry saw officer’s hop out the cars and a four-man swat team jump from the rear of the black van. Harry couldn’t hear what was being said as the police huddled into a circle. Harry saw they were armed, the police had pistols and the swat had assault rifles. One officer wearing a cap made hand gestures, Harry could tell he was in charge.
Harry yelled out of joy. The police couldn’t hear him If they were as useful as everyone says they are, they can clear this mess up and restore the hospital and save them. Harry turned and carried the IV drip back to the office. Sheila shut the door behind him.
Harry looked at the people before him. Survivors. They would need counselling to recover from what they had seen. Except Jack who needed more substantial psychomotor help. Shane needed a fucking lobotomy. Charlie needed a rehabilitation order.
‘Get it done.’ Sheila took the IV from Harry. Jamie was waiting on the floor next to Charlie. Harry felt his pocket for the codeine pills. They were still there. Jamie could use some. Harry looked at Jack sitting against the wall on the right. Harry changed his mind; the pills were sparse and unprescribed.
The police had arrived, and Harry didn’t know if theft of prescription medication was a priority for them.
‘Well done Harry,’ Jamie complimented Harry and he felt good. Jamie started to insert the needle into Charlie’s left arm. Attaching the blood bag to the other end of the tube.
‘Sheila,’ Jamie said. ‘Hold the bag in the air it needs gravity.’ Sheila came to Jamie and knelt beside Charlie. She took the blood bag and held it in the air. Sheila stroked Charlie’s cheek with her free hand. Harry noticed and a flare ignited and niggled at his stomach, why was she stroking that criminal? Harry walked past Charlie’s body with clenched fists and sat on the desk.
‘Doctor when can I make a complaint,’ Jack said. Jamie had crawled back to the desk and pulled himself onto his desk chair. He looked at Harry with concern and the silence gave Harry knots in his belly.
‘He’s confused Jamie,’ Harry said. ‘I had to help.’ Harry wasn’t sure why he was trying to win the moral approval of a doctor. To Harry’s pleasure Jamie cracked a smile.
‘Harry, saving that man is a good thing,’ Jamie said. ‘You may have saved two people today.’
‘It was life or death,’ Harry explained. ‘Jack could have died. I defeated them monsters out there to get him to safety.’ Jack walked over to the desk.
‘I saved myself,’ Jack said. ‘You were cowering.’
‘A liar? How nice,’ Jamie sniggered. Harry couldn’t tell whether he was being serious or sarcastic. Harry didn’t care. Jamie would forget about him soon and they would be evacuated by the police. If the police made it here alive.
‘Okay Jack, you were the fighter,’ Harry replied.
‘You bet,’ Jack said. ‘Twelve, no, thirteen years in the military, shooting those goddamn communist bastards.’ Jack saluted with an enthusiastic approach to storytelling which Harry couldn’t help but smile at.
‘By the way,’ Harry said. ‘The police are here, they have guns, rifles. I believe they will get us out.’ Sheila looked to Harry; he could see desperation in her eyes.
‘Police? Is Dean with them?’ Sheila’s nagging annoyed Harry, he didn’t know everything.
‘Calm down. I couldn’t see who it was. They couldn’t hear me, I tried to call for help if you were wondering.’ The wrench was heavy, so Harry placed it on the desk. The metal had cut into his hands, they were superficial wounds. The cuts were minor, the backache however felt like a lifelong problem and it only happened earlier.
‘We’ll have to wait and hope for the best. I don’t know what created these creatures or how to deal with them, they are clearly dangerous.’ Jamie said. He swivelled around in his leather desk chair. When it spun the mechanism broke and Jamie was left facing the rear wall. He rotated back to face the room. Jack slid down the wall next to Shane. Sheila switched to holding the blood bag with the other arm. The bag was emptying quickly.
‘Yeah this is more than dangerous, this is pandemonium,’ Harry said. ‘I can’t understand how this started, what would cause people to eat each other? People who look dead?’ Harry crossed his arms.
‘I was investigating a new bacterium before this occurred. But I can’t see how that would lead to people eating each other.’ Jamie rested his elbows on the desk and closed his eyes. Harry prayed the police would escort them back to safety, that they would help find James and Molly.
Sheila waved Harry over. Like a lonely puppy H
arry walked over to her and knelt beside her. They both had bad body odour. They needed fresh new clothes and coffee. Harry wanted a pizza with donuts for dessert. Harry remembered he hadn’t bought an ice cream for James. The queue had been too long. It was minty chocolate chip and strawberry with a chocolate flake and rainbow sprinkles.
‘Harry,’ Sheila said gazing into Harry’s tired eyes. ‘When we get out, I don’t want things to change.’ The blood bag was three quarters empty.
‘Jack come and help,’ Harry said, Jack waddled over.
Jack stood over Harry. ‘What?’
‘Hold this up please.’ Harry took the bag from Sheila and passed it to Jack. Jack held it high, pinching the hole where it hangs on the stand. Harry returned to Sheila’s eyes.
‘How so?’ Harry asked. Sheila twiddle her thumbs. They sat on the floor like teenagers. Harry smelt Sheila’s breath and could taste the alcohol she drank on the motorway. They both sat in dried blood.
‘I wanted you to come to the interview with me. Then this happened and we ended up here. I got you to come with me when your family needed you most, that’s why.’ Sheila wiped tears from her cheeks. Harry wrapped his arm around her.
‘Not at all, friends are friends, it’s not like we knew this would happen is it? I wouldn’t worry if I was you, if anything, coming along helped, it’s brought me closer to you.’ Harry smiled and rubbed her shoulder. He was felt as if he were lying. But it was true that their friendship was far reaching. This merely built new bridges.
‘Thanks Harry that means a lot.’ Sheila pecked his cheek. Sheila was vulnerable and if he continued to gaze into her deep emerald eyes, he might end up initiating something.
Charlie began to move his arms. Jamie scrambled from the desk chair and crawled over to Charlie. Jack dropped the bag and walked off to the wall and sat down. Jamie placed his index finger over Charlie’s carotid artery and waved a fist in celebration.
‘Yes,’ Jamie exclaimed. ‘We did it he’s alive. Harry, you are a lifesaver.’
Beach Town: Apocalypse Page 7
