Hellspawn Odyssey

by Ricky Fleet

  “Let me get my bag,” said Christina as she went to pick up her equipment.

  “John and I will go with her, the rest of you stay here,” Kurt instructed and took his hammer and hatchet in case it was a trap. John gave him a knowing look and did the same.

  They hurried after Debbie and she led them to a small ward that was near the children’s recovery area. Looking all around as she pushed through the door, they could see Mike laid up and in no position to try any funny stuff. He was red, delirious, and talking nonsense. The sweat was running freely from his body and his uncontrollable shivers had kicked the covers onto the floor.

  “What is the matter with him?” cried Debbie, wishing she could help.

  “I don’t know, stay back,” Christina ordered and checked his heart rate and breathing. The look on her face was suddenly filled with concern and she took his temperature with a digital thermometer.

  “Do you think he is turning?” John whispered to Kurt while Debbie was distracted. He took out the cleaver in preparation.

  “No, it happens much quicker than this.” Kurt pushed John’s hand down that held the razor sharp weapon before Debbie could see.

  “What was he stabbed with?” the doctor asked them.

  “A screwdriver,” Kurt replied.

  “Clean?” she pressed.

  “As clean as it could be. He fell in the sewer earlier, sat on some filth, poo and such,” John added, trying to be diplomatic.

  “It’s all your fault, you bastard!” Debbie screamed and made to lunge at Kurt who pulled out his hammer. He was fully prepared to use it now on the poisonous bitch and smiled, hoping it would trigger the attack.

  “That won’t help him, calm down! He has a massive infection, probably colonic bacteria that has caused blood poisoning,” Dr Christina shouted at the irate woman. The hammer was more of a deterrent than the harsh words of the doctor and she backed down, scowling.

  “He needs antibiotics or he will be dead by morning,” Christina added and left them to retrieve the medicine from the locked pharmacy by main reception.

  “You need to back off before you get hurt, do you understand me?” Kurt growled.

  “Go fuck yourself,” she hissed back at him.

  “Both of you, stop it now. This won’t help Mike get better,” John said and they all looked at Mike. His eyes were rolling in the sockets and he was suffering from delirium tremens, his limbs uncontrollably shaking.

  “We need to save him, he is all I’ve got,” she wailed and went to him, wiping sweat from his fevered brow with a corner of the blanket.

  “And whose fault is that?” whispered Kurt.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Debbie said, glowering.

  “I’d love to see that. You are less than nothing, without us you would already be worm food, you fucking tramp.” Kurt laughed in her face, unable to hold back. She ignored him, keeping the hatred inside. For now.

  Christina came rushing back in with a clear plastic bag and a handful of medical equipment. She got the others to hold Mike down while she inserted the needle into his arm. The saline bag was mounted on an intravenous drip stand which then started feeding the medicine and much needed fluids into his bloodstream to counteract the infection. Taking another sealed needle, she removed it from the packaging and drew a small dose from a separate bottle.

  “Morphine, to let him sleep. His body needs time to heal,” she explained to them. “Debbie, would you be able to hold him on his side? Kurt, please keep the arm steady. I want to clean the wound on his bottom.”

  They took opposing sides and lifted him slightly so that the doctor could clean the stab wound thoroughly. The tension that passed over the shivering body of Mike was so highly charged, John wouldn’t have been surprised to see electricity arcing between the pair.

  “I think we got it just in time, look.” Christina pointed to the neat round hole in the buttock muscle. Threaded veins of angry red spread like cobweb from the wound. “That’s the septicaemia infection spreading. I have cleaned it out with antiseptic wash and will stitch it once the infection is under control. We should see an improvement in his heart rate and temperature by the morning.”

  They lay him back down gently and the morphine was taking effect. The shivers had subsided a little and he breathed slow and rhythmically, fast asleep. The drops of the antibiotic fed down the tube, working their magic on the illness that had nearly claimed Mike’s life.

  “We really need to move him into x-ray so I can keep an eye on him,” said the doctor.

  “No!” Debbie said.

  “But it would be better…” continued Christina.

  “I said no!” shrieked Debbie, pushing them out of the room.

  “Listen, I will be back every hour during the night. If anything changes come and get me from x-ray immediately,” ordered the doctor.

  Without saying another word, Debbie slammed the door on the three.

  “Now you see what we have had to put up with?” Kurt stated, throwing his hands in the air.

  “She is just worried.” Dr Christina tried to legitimize the behaviour that she knew could be brought on by stress.

  “No, I’m sorry, Christina, she is pure evil. She used to beat Peter when they were an item, she has attacked us repeatedly and nearly got us killed by those things,” John informed her.

  “Oh, I didn’t know,”

  “It’s ok, we rescued them when we hit the road. Peter fit in straight away but she is like a square peg to our round hole. It just hasn’t worked. We will be leaving them somewhere safe and making our way to Arundel Castle,” John said, knocking the door to x-ray and waiting for the bulky blockage to be moved.

  “Wake me when you go and make your checks, I will come with you just in case she tries anything,” warned Kurt.

  “There is no need for that, without me he wouldn’t have survived,” she said.

  “I would still be happier if I went,” he insisted.

  They bedded down for the night and Dr Christina set her small battery alarm clock to go off in sixty minutes. The group was asleep before their heads hit the pillow; exhaustion was an excellent sedative. Even the shrill of the clock and moving the equipment failed to rouse the group. The doctor checked on Mike without incident and was happy to see improvement as the hours passed. The candle died and the room fell into darkness, an extinguished light that could have easily been Mike’s life force had they not discovered Dr Christina Hargis.

  Chapter 18

  Dr Hargis woke them with plates of buttered toast and jars of condiments; jams, Marmite, and chocolate spread.

  “How do you still have bread?” asked Paige with a huge grin.

  “We still have gas for some reason. I just made it yesterday, we have all the ingredients in the kitchen,” she replied, handing out the small plates.

  “We are fed by gas holders,” said Kurt, spreading strawberry jam onto a slice. He looked up and saw that she didn’t have a clue what he meant. “They are the huge round cylinders with stairs running around the side to the top. There is one just on the outskirts of the city, near Lavant.”

  “Is that what that awful looking thing is? Well you learn a new thing every day, don’t you?” she smiled at the new knowledge.

  They ate with relish, savouring the bread. They had nearly forgotten how good it tasted.

  “I’m just going to take this to Debbie and Mike, see how they are getting on.” The doctor stood and put four slices on a separate plate. Picking up the medical bag, she pushed out and Kurt jumped up to follow.

  “I’m coming too,” he said, stuffing the last of the toast in his mouth. She nodded and they checked on the pair.

  Mike was looking much better; the fever had broken and the wound was no longer streaked with infected veins. Without even saying thanks, Debbie grabbed the food and started tucking in.

  “He is doing much better; the danger is passed. We just need to keep an eye on him now. Excuse me, some of that toast was meant for him when he wake
s up,” Christina scolded as Debbie finished off the final slice.

  “Well you should have said something. You will just have to bring some more,” Debbie huffed as she brushed crumbs from her jumper.

  “That’s all that was left. I’m sorry,” said the doctor, feeling bad that she hadn’t made more.

  “She’s not your fucking chambermaid, you rotten cunt. From now on you go hungry. As soon as Mike is fit, you can get your stuff and get the fuck out before I throw you out. If Mike decides to go with you, you’re his problem.” Kurt picked up the empty plate and threw it against the wall, smashing it into pieces.

  “Do you really think you can make me leave if Mike doesn’t want to, you pussy?” she sneered.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But you will be damned sure that if Mike kills me, you will be shot in the fucking head,” he replied. Looking over, he could see Mike was awake. Groggy but still able to glare with malice. “Did you hear that Mike?”

  He nodded slowly, refusing to break eye contact and look weak.

  “Good. If you didn’t hear, she ate your breakfast.” Kurt pointed to Debbie who started to bluster her denials. “Enjoy your empty stomach.”

  They left the room to the inevitable argument and returned to the others.

  “I see what you mean, what a bitch,” smiled Christina, “I can’t believe I offered to make her more.”

  “She is a vile manipulator. Don’t give her any more thought,” he said as they entered.

  “Ok, I won’t. Why can’t people just get along?” she complained at the contrary nature of human beings.

  “Who wants an ice shower?” Kurt asked, and the response was not as excited as he had expected. Now that he thought about it, the chilled cleaning didn’t seem that tempting. Their sour odour convinced him of the need to ignore their comfort for five minutes.

  Christina took them through to the operating rooms and the three showers that stood in a row. The water came flowing out in an icy torrent and there was much complaining and gasping as the survivors got clean. Those that waited laughed at the antics of the ones washing, but their mirth was short lived when they realized they would be next. After washing and changing clothes they felt renewed.

  “How is it that you still have water?” asked John as he towelled his hair dry.

  “I think we have a tank on the roof, it holds a lot of water and with no one else to use it, it just keeps running and running,” Cristina explained.

  “I think we should take the time to wash our clothes, if you have gas we can heat water and wash them in the kitchen sinks,” Kurt said, looking at the filthy garments they had just taken off.

  “Why not? We haven’t got anything else to do,” Sarah responded.

  They all worked together to heat the water and scrub the clothing, getting as much grime out as possible. The water turned a grim shade of brown and had to be emptied on more than one occasion. Christina collected more IV drip holders and they hung the items from the hooks, positioning them by open ovens whose convection heat rose and caused the water to evaporate. Steam wafted on the up draughts like a ghostly mist.

  Debbie came into the kitchen and her presence was like someone farting at a funeral, the jovial atmosphere disappearing. They all stared and she shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot.

  “Mike wants some food, Peter told me you were in here,” she said. Her demeanour had changed with the verbal abuse she had taken when left alone.

  Kurt stormed over to her. “I don’t give a flying fuck what Mike wants, you are the reason he is starving. If he is so hungry he can come and ask himself. The next time you think of making demands after the way you have acted, think of the fun you will have when I lock you outside.”

  “He still can’t get out of bed, whose fault is that?” she answered with a mocking tone.

  “I didn’t make him attack me twice. It’s his own fault that he nearly died and you are responsible too, egging him on. Do you think I wouldn’t remember?” Kurt ridiculed her, “Now fuck off!” He pushed her towards the door.

  “It’s ok, Kurt,” Christina took his arm, smiling, “We have plenty to go round.”

  Kurt softened and left Debbie alone. He realized he was becoming harder which was necessary, but at the same time his humanity was suffering; acts that a month ago would have been abhorrent, would now be considered reasonable. The morality of survival would be a fluid concept in the future. The survivors they had encountered so far had been an even mix of friendly and selfless, and evil and dangerous. Their plan to meet up with other groups who shared common values would be nearly impossible with the wildly divergent personalities of the world.

  The doctor handed over some foil sealed cheese portions and crackers.

  “Thanks,” Debbie muttered and left them.

  “I’m sorry if I come across heartless. We have seen what that pair are capable of, and it’s not good for anyone,” Kurt apologized.

  “Please don’t apologize. After what you have told me I am not surprised they have been ostracized,” replied the doctor.

  “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression. My only concern is the survival of those I love,” he tried to justify himself.

  “Honestly, I totally understand. It’s commendable how you have prevailed through all the horror,” she complimented.

  “I hope you will join us when we leave for the castle,” John asked, hanging the final clothes on the hooks.

  “I will have to think about it. I was gathering the nerve to try and reach my parent’s home. I warned them when it all started but I haven’t been able to reach them since the phone signal died,” she said with sorrow. They noticed that Jodi had turned away, trying to hide the tears that flowed at her lost mother and father.

  “It would be suicide on your own, where do they live?” Sarah wondered.

  “Houghton. It’s north of Arundel. I don’t suppose we could try and see if they are still alive?” she asked with a pleading look.

  “I’m sorry, but no. We need to get inside and lock the castle down. But I promise on my soul, that as soon as I know my family are safe, we will go together and find them,” pledged Kurt, clasping her hand tightly to emphasize his promise.

  “I will go with you too,” declared Gloria, placing a supportive arm round her shoulders.

  “I know the chances are poor, but I have to know. Thank you all,” Christina said, her voice breaking with emotion.

  Chapter 19

  “Peter, would you mind coming with me somewhere?” Paige asked quietly.

  “Of course not, what did you need?” he asked, following her from the kitchen.

  She didn’t answer his question so he just walked beside her in silence. The look on her face was a mix of sadness and anxiety and Peter felt the emotions transfer to himself in empathy. His mind raced with questions about what she was feeling, was it their burgeoning relationship? Had she changed her mind and no longer had any feelings towards him? Or was it something worse? His mouth had never been as dry as it was during that short walk to a small office that said ‘X-ray Administration’. She pulled the sticky tape from the door and pushed it open.

  Three small, cluttered desks sat against the walls with paperwork filed and stacked in piles across a shelved area at the back.

  “We have already cleared this room,” he croaked feebly, the lack of moisture in his mouth confusing the syllables so that it was barely intelligible. It was just a way to break the quiet between them, to try and solicit any kind of response. She seemed fixated on the first desk and stared at it for several minutes while Peter just stood there feeling foolish. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary with it, nothing that would indicate a need to regard it with such trepidation. Paige took him by surprise and reached for his warm hand, squeezing it tightly.

  “Please, don’t leave me,” she said, not breaking eye contact with the wooden talisman.

  “I won’t, but what are we doing here?” Peter replied.

  She looked at him and it
was such a forlorn expression he let go of her hand and pulled her in to his protective arms.

  “I am afraid I imagined it, that when I open the drawer it will be empty,” she said cryptically.

  “Imagined what, Paige? You are scaring me.” Peter held her face in his hands.

  She glanced around the room nervously, as if uttering the words would legitimise her inner fears. “A picture of my daughter.” Her eyes met his as she whispered the incantation, expecting a cosmic intervention that would rob her of the small prize.

  “I don’t… Oh, that was your desk!” Peter exclaimed as he finally understood the turmoil she was suffering. Through terror she had lost her baby. There was no way to safely reach her old home and if the drawer was empty, she would have nothing to remember her child. In time the memory of her angelic face would disappear and it would be as if she had never existed, except as a figment of her imagination.

  “Peter, I can’t. Would you please look inside the middle drawer? I am sure I brought one in to show my work friends and left it in there,” she asked him and he treated it as if it was the most important mission of his life. “I’m so scared I took it home to frame it.”

  He walked over and held the drawer handle, feeling as scared as he had at any point facing the Hellspawn legions on the street. His new love would be crushed if she had no focal point to channel her grief. You couldn’t apologise and say a fond farewell to a memory, but a picture was a relic of happiness. Her smiling face could act as a balm to her broken heart. Pulling it out on the runners, it revealed a clutter of stationery; post it notes, Tippex, staples, discarded memos, and scribbled notes were crammed within. No picture was immediately visible and he looked at Paige who was biting her knuckles, drawing blood with the intensity of her concentration.

  He delved deeper, throwing the contents aside as he checked. He was growing in frustration as each new layer revealed more rubbish and the frenzy as he tossed stuff aside was reaching a point where he would launch the whole thing through a window. The bottom was revealed and no picture sat inside the drawer and Paige burst into tears, wailing in the silence. Peter was heartbroken he had failed her, even though there was nothing he could have done. He ripped the drawer out and smashed it against the side of the desk, splintering the wood into small fragments. He lifted the side and tipped it over and it crashed into the next desk, scattering the computer and other objects all over the office floor.