“You said you heard gunshots,” Maisy pointed out.
“They must not know. What’s happening here. What’s really happening.”
Maisy shook her head. “I don’t know. The people who took us to the conference room had radios. They must have contacted somebody in charge by now.”
“Have you? Did you try calling anyone?”
“Sure. We got the police last night at one point. They told us to stay put, that the national guard was handling things. We were trying to figure out how to contact them, but that’s when Dan lost it. Look, maybe the best thing is to wait it out. The people in charge, they know what they’re doing. They’ll send more security, they have to. If we just stay put until they get here, we’ll be okay. Except— except Shay. She’s in bad shape. I need to figure out how to help her.”
Neil glanced out at Shay who had closed her eyes as she leaned against the tile wall. She looked much worse under the harsh industrial lights. The bite marks he could see were deeper than he had thought at first and blood had trickled in wide stripes over her arm. The tracks of someone’s fingernails trailed over her left cheek. He wondered if there were worse in places he couldn’t see. He left the office. “You still— are you awake?” he asked.
Shay sat up and opened her eyes. She gingerly peeled off the remnants of the kitchen gloves. “Thought these would keep me from catching whatever this is,” she said wryly and lifted one bleeding arm to look at the bites. “Kind of seems pointless now.”
“We need to get you cleaned up,” said Neil. “You’re going to need some stitches I think.”
“Well— at least this is the best place to be for it. Maybe a doctor will show up who isn’t nuts.”
“What if no one does?” asked Maisy.
“Then we’ll wrap up the bites in bandages until the quarantine’s over.”
“But what if that’s how it happens? Bites like this?”
Shay scowled. “Stop that nonsense. You’ve been watching too many horror movies Maisy. Though— if it’s in the saliva or something…”
“You’re talking about the crazy people— the guy who attacked you? There were more upstairs. Nurses, I think. Are they sure it’s not a drug?” asked Neil.
“They don’t seem sure of anything. But they wouldn’t have quarantined us if they thought it was a drug, would they?” asked Maisy. “Didn’t even know they did quarantines anymore.”
“Did they say how long?”
Shay shook her head.
“I mean— if it’s a few hours, that’s one thing but a few days— bandages aren’t going to cut it, Shay. You need help. Even assuming whatever is turning people crazy isn’t infectious, other things are. They kept me here for two days for one bite,” he said, holding up his bandaged hand. He frowned at the small dark spots that had appeared on the fabric. He might need more stitches, too.
“I don’t think we have much choice. If someone shows up, then they show up. And if no one does, I’d rather wait. I don’t think a dirty needle and some old string are going to make the situation any better. Assuming we could even find that in here. There’s a first-aid kit behind the line, but I don’t think it’s got any surgical supplies in it.” She tilted her head toward the rear of the kitchen. Neil could see the small, dirty red box bolted to the wall. Probably as empty as the one at work. Ironic. Cobbler’s children, he thought.
“A first-aid kit that’s probably got three bandaids and a rolled-up tube of burn cream. Am I right?” he asked.
Shay sighed. “It’s been a while since I had to use it. But what choice do we have?”
He battled the urge to do something stupid for this stranger, but he knew he’d already lost.
I’ve got to help her. Bandages aren’t going to help. She’s going to get a bad infection. I left that cop. And Dante. Always wanted to believe I’d do better in something like this. Always wanted Randi to believe I’d do better. Jesus, what would she say if she could see me now? What would Joan say? Coward. That’s what she’d say. What she always thought, too. Come on, Neil. I’ve got to help. Got to do one redeemable thing today. Just one.
“We’re in a hospital,” was all he said out loud. “We should at least be able to get you some sterile supplies. I saw a sign for a lab in the lobby—”
“You want to go wandering around the hospital after what you just saw?” asked Shay.
“No,” he admitted, “But you’re seriously hurt. Other people are going to come by. They’re going to be hurt too. If we really are trapped here for a few days, then someone’s got to get supplies so we’re ready.”
“You don’t understand. We’re not talking about one pissed off accountant here. Dan’s not alone. There’s more of them, lots more, unless they all slaughtered each other in the past two hours. Plus, those gunshots you heard are probably the police who came in to help, but I don’t know if they’ll stop to ask if you’re a biter or not before they start shooting. I don’t think I’ve got it in me to deal with more of either—”
“I’m not going to wander around. Going to get to the lab and find one of those cart things or a travel case or something. Quick, in and out. We have to disinfect those bites or you’re not going to have to worry about the crazy people. And we’re both going to need some pain killers. I really need some relief, Shay. Don’t you?”
She hesitated.
Some rational part of him, some desperate voice of self-preservation warned him not to say what he intended to. It’s a shitty idea Neil. You know it’s a shitty, stupid idea. Don’t. But the cop’s face as he bolted overrode the sane part of him. The need to alleviate his shame talked louder. “I’ll go alone,” he offered.
“Why?”
“Look, it’s not just you. I’m hurt too.” he held up his bandaged hand. He could feel a damp trickle already starting. “I think I may have broken my stitches back there. And I’ve got a friend in here somewhere. He’s not in his room, but there was blood near his bed. He’s hurt somewhere. I don’t know how I’m going to find him, but when I do, he’ll need help. You don’t want to take on responsibility for me, that’s okay. You can tell yourself I’m doing it for my own self-interest. Just show me the quickest way to get there.”
“It’s bad. The whole place is bad. The lobby was— people all trying to get out. Don’t know where they’ve gone. It can’t be anywhere good.”
“All the more reason not to wait. The lobby’s empty now, but it might not stay that way. I’ll be careful. Quiet. It can’t be more than what? A few hundred feet?”
“The ER doctors who were still— normal said they were going to the lab just before things went sideways,” interjected Maisy. “Remember? They wanted to work instead of sitting in the conference room. That captain— or whatever he was, he agreed. Sent them with a bunch of security.”
“They’re probably dead by now, Maisy,” said Shay. “With what happened in the conference room— it must have happened with some of them, too. The ER doctors would have been in contact with whatever this is a lot more than Dan or that policeman was. If anyone was going to get this, it would have been them.”
“We don’t know that,” said Maisy. “For all we know, they’re working in the lab right now, completely unaware of what’s going on out here. They could walk right into some of the crazies or go back to the conference rooms not knowing—”
“They don’t know about the biters?” asked Neil.
“Well— I mean they know what happens to the sick people. They were the ones who called the CDC. But I don’t know if they know which people are sick. We didn’t know Dan was. I don’t think Dan even knew he was. Or the people who snapped in the conference room. They seemed perfectly normal. A little drunk maybe, but after being rounded up and forced into a conference room for hours, I can’t really blame them for sneaking a sip or two. The point is, if the doctors are still doing things in the blood lab, then they’ll be able to help.”
“And someone owes it to them to warn them,” added Neil. “Not leave them to
find out the way I did.”
Shay shook her head. “It’s too risky. You want to warn them? Go ahead, the phone’s right there near the walk-in. They’re still working, last I checked. The extension list is tacked beside it.”
“No,” hissed Maisy, “that’s what drew the crazies toward the gift shop, remember? Damn phone ringing off the hook brought them straight to us. You can’t call. In fact, we should rip the damn thing out of the wall so no one can call here—”
“Don’t do that,” cried Shay. “I need to talk to the kids. I need to hear they’re safe.”
Shit, thought Neil. She’s got kids too. You have to go. You have to help her.
“I’m going,” he said and wheeled around to the door.
Shay grabbed his wrist, her hand damp and warm from the blood coating it. Neil flinched but stopped. “You might bring something back with you and then what do we do? Cafe’s the last best place—”
“If I do, I’ll circle around until I can lose them. We’re going to need stuff. More people will end up here, you said so yourself.”
“Why do you want to do this so badly? You don’t even know me. This is a stupid risk. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“If I don’t try then what’s the alternative? Sit here and watch you lose blood or get some fever or— get sick like your friend did?” asked Neil. “Wait for other people to stumble by worse off than you or me?”
“No skin off your nose,” said Shay, wincing as she tried to move one of her wounded arms into a more comfortable position. “I’m a stranger. I’m certainly not going to risk my neck for you if it comes to that later. Not unless I find out you’re— I don’t know, some super-scientist who can save us all or something. I’ve got kids. They’re more important to me than anyone in here. You understand? Not going to leave them motherless for a stranger.”
Neil nodded. “I get it. I’ve got a girl, too. And she’s why I need to do this. You don’t know what I already saw today. What I did. Or— what I didn’t do. One of those cops came to my room, fighting one of the crazy people. I— left him. I ran. I panicked and ran. And then— I tried to help my friend, but he was gone. Some dead nurse in his room. I left the body. The nurse probably has a family too. But they’re lying there on a dirty bathroom floor upstairs because I’m a coward. And my friend— who knows. Maybe he’s wandering the halls somewhere, looking for help. Maybe he got out before all this. Maybe he’s in the lab with the doctors. All I know is that I can’t be the reason anyone else dies. Not today. We’re going to get back to our kids. We will. And when we do, I want to be able to look Randi in the eye, understand?”
“Not really,” said Shay.
“Let him go, Shay,” whispered Maisy. “What does it matter? If he comes back, we’ll be better off. He doesn’t— we didn’t know him anyway. And no worse off than we are now.”
Thanks a lot, lady, Neil thought, but didn’t protest. If it came to it, Shay was right. He didn’t really know anything about them either. Didn’t need to. They’d all be safer together for the time being, but they weren’t going to set up housekeeping or anything. Quarantine would be what? A few days at most? He didn’t intend to wait that long to find a way out, but if there were no other way, there was safety in numbers but only if none of them were a liability. That meant getting Shay some help before things got worse. And hopefully figuring out if she was going to snap like the other people he’d seen.
Shay sighed. “Out in the lobby, follow the orange line on the linoleum. Another three hundred yards or so. Don’t go farther than that— next area’s the ER. You don’t want to go in there. Trust me. Nothing good is happening down there and I don’t know if security managed to lock it before everything started.”
Neil nodded. “Maisy, watch the door so I don’t need to make noise when I come back.” She followed him out into the dark cafe.
“If you bring any crazies back, don’t expect me to unlock it,” Maisy warned him.
“I won’t. Don’t worry about me. Just— keep an eye on Shay. Don’t let her— I dunno. Don’t let her fall asleep. I think that’d be bad.”
“That’s for concussions,” said Maisy, unlocking the door. “But I’ll do what I can for her. She’s been my friend a lot longer than you.”
“I get it,” he said. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” He leaned out the door, looked carefully around the lobby and as far down the corridor as he could. Some dark stains on the lobby rug but nothing else. The orange line started on the linoleum just a little farther on. He could see it bright and crisp running down the empty corridor. He darted out of the door and past the last open area of the lobby into the hallway and stopped to look around. A soft click told him Maisy had locked the door behind him. She stood against the glass looking at him for a second. Neil just nodded and she turned away, dissolving into the dark cafe’s interior.
10
What the hell is going on? he thought, jogging down the bright orange line. The quiet was broken only by the soft piano playing over the PA system. Some administrator’s idea to soothe anxious patients and families, no doubt, but it grated on Neil’s nerves. And the abrupt chime of an announcement made him jump while a too-friendly voice reminded him to wear a mask in the waiting room. It took a few seconds of returning piano music to unwind the muscles that had frozen with the chime. He continued on. Office after office and he began seeing signs for the ER. Too far? he wondered, but the orange line still ran down the center of the hall.
He turned a corner and a long wide smear of blood trailed down the corridor floor. Just at the end, before it turned again, something lumpy and dark lay motionless across it. The small sign for the lab entrance hung just above it. He stood still, waiting for some kind of movement. Or a sound. Gotta help, he told himself, that person’s hurt. Carry them into the lab. There’s got to be a gurney in there or something. A cart. Anything. Get them in there, you can roll them back to the cafe. The way back’s clear, you know that for sure at least. He wanted to turn around. Just hoof it back to the cafe and lock himself in. Or better, lock himself in and then figure out how to open the kitchen door without getting shot. They could use the old aprons or kitchen towels to clean up Shay, couldn’t they?
Already had this argument, Neil. Just get it done. Still, he hesitated. This is stupid. Really, really stupid. He forced himself forward. He couldn’t leave the person there. Why not? You left that cop, he told himself. Cop had a gun. He must have got hold of it before— before. But there was the nurse too, in Dante’s room. They’d been dead. Nothing he could do for them. This one’s probably dead too. They’re not moving. That’s a lot of blood. The large smear only thickened as he drew closer to the lump, ending at last in a wide, tacky puddle that reminded Neil of thin gelatin left in the fridge too long.
The lump had a face, but there were large chunks torn from his clothes and ragged flaps of skin left exposed. Gore covered his arms and throat, and there was a massive wound clearly visible in his thigh. Probably the one that eventually killed him. It bothered Neil more than the nurse had, somehow. The man’s eyes were still open. Maybe that was why. Or that his mouth hung ajar and his lips stained with more blood. Neil wondered if it were his own or if he’d been another of the crazy people. Maybe two of them had attacked each other and the winner had just left. There were footprints farther down the hall. Heavy boot treads in dark maroon, weaving back and forth over the red line that pointed to the ER. Neil knelt to check the man because he knew he’d think about it later if he didn’t, though it was very clear the man was deceased. He hadn’t blinked or moved and the blood around him was half dry. But Neil stuck his fingers to the remains of the man’s wrist anyway, needing to be absolutely certain. There was no extra warmth in the man’s skin. It was like touching a piece of soft leather, as cool as the hospital’s air-conditioned hall. He didn’t wait as long as he had with the nurse. He was certain the man had been dead a while. He hoped it meant whoever had done it was long gone.
Get a weapo
n, he told himself. Scalpel or needle— hell, a heavy stapler, something. And stop hanging around. Can’t help this guy. Neil got up but looked back at the body. Can’t leave him. Even that nurse was in a private bathroom. No one is going to see them or stumble over them. Can’t leave this guy out here for anyone to find. The thought was nonsensical. Pointless. Still, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to walk away from it. It didn’t matter that it was a risk to pick the guy up. Didn’t matter that it was going to mean staying out of the safety of the cafeteria for longer. He had to do it. I started this little jaunt because it was the right thing to do, he reminded himself. Best to keep to that goal. Pick up the body. At least put it in the lab, out of the hallway. At least that much. It’s the right thing. He crouched down, got a hand under each of the man’s arms. The weight pressing on his injury made him suck in a surprised breath, but he didn’t drop the man. The body was too stiff to lift into an easy position, so he dragged it slowly toward the lab door. The man’s feet dragged through the congealing puddle of blood and left shallow trenches of clear floor to interrupt the stain. Neil paused to listen a moment at the door and edged it open with one shoulder. It was silent. Nothing leaped out at him or scrabbled against the door. He backed into the frosted glass door and pushed it open with one foot. He struggled to get the man through the doorway, flinching as one of the man’s hands flopped against the frame with a dull thud. The corpse was heavy and it took some maneuvering to pull it around a solid coffee table. Neil was sweating by the time he laid it down next to the neat line of vinyl chairs. But at least it was done. He looked at it one more time, wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans and then looked around himself. The small waiting room smelled like carpet cleaner and stale coffee. There were no signs of a struggle, nothing to hint at the violent death that had happened just outside. The magazines lay in precise rows across the coffee table and the registration cubicles were tidy and silent, fake flowers tucked into the corner of two of them and someone’s kids smiling in the photos taped to the sides of a filing cabinet. The piano music and the tick of an old analog clock were the only sounds. Neil tried the door to the interior of the lab, but it was locked. Had to be another way in. Or a key card in one of the registration cubicles. Something. He shimmied over the top of the nearest cubicle and ducked under the Plexiglas guard. His elbow knocked over a mug filled with pens and sent the keyboard flying. Sorry, he thought, though he wasn’t certain why. He tried to brace himself on the office chair but it rolled away, dropping him face-first onto the plastic rug protector. He groaned as he hit and crawled free of the desk.
Before The Cure (Book 1): Before The Cure Page 7
