Somewhere In The Middle

by Lucas Coon

  “Wait, what?”

  “I'm kidding. I don't know what's wrong with you, but it's definitely not what’s wrong with them. Your tongue looks a little odd, like it's kind of turning blue, but you don't have the visual signs of being infected.” She looked at him. “Holes, right? If you're infected you get those holes in your tongue, where the parasites like to burrow?” She pushed the pen-light back in her pocket.

  “Yeah, holes.” He started to press his tongue against his teeth. He could feel it, so the nerves in his tongue weren't dead. There wasn't any pain. “So, what is wrong with me then, if I'm not infected?”

  “Like I said, I don't really know. I've never seen someone's tongue turn a bluish tint like that. The only thing I could think of would be lack of blood-flow, but, if it's not bothering you, then I really don't know. Have you had any other issues?” She turned fully towards him. Mitchell assumed that this was her being a doctor and not a fellow survivor.

  “I've passed out a few times. Had really bizarre dreams. Other than that nothing too out of the ordinary.” After making this statement he realized that blacking out was a tad out of the ordinary.

  “I honestly have no clue. Fainting and having a blue tongue aren't symptoms of anything I know. As far as your dreams go, you are under a huge amount of stress. I'd guess you'll be fine. Either that or you'll be dead before morning.” She looked back outside.

  “Wow! Thanks doc! I'll bet he really appreciates your optimistic input! What next? Are you going to tell him that you killed his dog or that the Easter bunny isn't real?” Madison and Mitchell turned towards the door. Darren stepped towards the couple at the far end. “What are you guys doing out here? I wouldn't exactly call this place safe.” He leaned against the glass wall. His eyes met those of the angered infected that continued to attempt to claw his way through the clear barrier.

  “Couldn't sleep. I decided to go for a walk and ran into Madison here.” Mitchell decided to be direct with his response. “Now the real question to be asked is; what are you doing here?”

  “I couldn't sleep either. After what I discussed with you...” He paused looking at Mitchell. He had a probing look on his face.

  “I didn't tell her, don't worry.”

  “Didn't tell me what?” Madison looked at the guys concerned.

  “It's not important. Go on Darren.”

  “Ass...” Madison clearly didn't appreciate the secretive behavior. Mitchell had no intention of bringing it up and causing more issues than there already were.

  “Alright. Anyways, after our conversation earlier, I started to think about what you had said. I know you and I have had our joke-filled conversations and I know we've had serious ones and all of them have helped me cope with what's going on out here. I know it's cheesy, but you showing up has been one of the few positive things to occur over this past week. You are what disrupted my security.” Darren brushed the hair on the back of his head with his hand. “That sounded bad. I don't mean that you caused problems, I mean that you're the reason that I went out to get the water and the food and, in the end, left the office. You're also what caused me to see what kind of person Abram really was.” He moved his hand to his forehead. “At the risk of sounding like a damn freshman girl being wooed by a sophomore boy, I wanted to thank you. These kinds of situations really test who we are as people and you've proven that you're a great person. Your being here for me and my family means the world to us.”

  “Sometimes you just have to look for the silver lining in bad times. That's a philosophy I've always held. If you can't look for the good in the bad then, honestly, you'll give up way before the end.” Mitchell smiled. “That was incredibly cheesy though.”

  “That was beautiful. Are you guys going to ask each other to prom now?” The group turned and saw Kayla standing in the doorway. “Why are you all out here? Seriously, it's almost midnight and you guys are standing in a glass hallway chatting it up?”

  “Yeah, we probably shouldn't all be here. There are two kids unguarded now.” Mitchell realized that they had pretty much left them as sitting ducks.

  “There's too many doors between there and anywhere. Honestly I've seen one infected inside this hospital. I think we may be in the safest building on this side of town.” Darren had a point.

  “Besides, they're both smart girls. I doubt either one would leave the room.” Madison pitched in her two-cents. Mitchell felt like he was the only one that was worrying about whether or not they were OK. At the same time, he wasn't a parent, so he figured he shouldn't argue with their judgment. “Anyways, since we're all here, maybe we should talk.”

  “I agree. This is as good a time as any to ask; what's next guys? Aria isn't here and we only have a vague idea of where she may be and that's not exactly a brisk...evening...” Kayla began to stagger her words. She cleared her throat and stepped in an attempt to keep her balance.

  “Kayla!” Darren grabbed her. “Hey! What's going on? Are you OK?”

  “I feel...really dizzy.” Darren put his arm around her for support. “Let's go back...” Her voice started to fade as she spoke.

  “Yeah, guys come on--” Darren stopped mid-sentence as he looked towards Mitchell and Madison. “Mitchell grab her!” Mitchell swung around to see Madison leaning forward with her hand on the glass. He put his arm around her to help her up.

  “Come on Madison let's get back to the rooms. Darren, do you--” Mitchell turned back to see the same look on Darren's face. “Oh hell.” He sat Madison on the ground with her back leaning against the glass and ran over to Darren. “You're going down too aren't you?”

  “Yeah, Mitchell, take Kayla and...Get back to...” Darren started to fall. Mitchell lunged forward and caught both him and Kayla. He struggled to hold them both up. He did the best he could to slowly lower them onto the floor. He stepped back waiting for himself to fall to the floor. He took a deep breath in, but realized that he wasn't going to pass out.

  “What the hell? What the hell happened?” Mitchell looked at them frantically. He struggled with the decision to stay with them or check on the children. “What the hell caused them all to pass out like this?”

  “No, Mitchell, the real question is; why are you still standing?”

  Chapter 18 – Coma

  “No, Mitchell, the real question is; why didn't you tell me?” Mitchell hated it when Aria yelled at him, yet here they were. He tried to dismiss her question to avoid the topic. He didn't know why he tried this strategy every time they argued, it never worked. This time though, it was going to work. “Mitchell, answer me!” Aria continued on with her anger.

  “Aria, just drop it please.” Mitchell remained lying on his back. He kept his eyes closed in hopes that it would just pass, or he would just fall asleep. “I have to get up and go to work in the morning.”

  “Yeah, so do I, but I'm not dropping it until you talk to me. How could you not tell me?” She kept prying. Mitchell was starting to get frustrated with the situation. He opened his eyes and looked at the clock to his left. The glowing numbers brightly indicated that it was twenty-two minutes after eleven. With how things were going, his work day was going to be miserable.

  “It's not important Aria.” Another attempt to dismiss the conversation.

  “What is wrong with you? Your father dies and you're lying there emotionless telling me it's not important? How can you honestly say that?” She repositioned from holding herself up to sitting up against the wall. Mitchell knew that this conversation wasn't going to end anytime soon. “Come on Mitch, talk to me, please.”

  “Aria, you know that he and I didn't get along. There's no reason to even acknowledge that it happened. It's best to just move on.” Mitchell attempted one last time to dismiss it. He knew that if she said anything in response to this, then it was going to turn into a long conversation and he wasn't wanting that to happen. He just wanted to sleep for the couple of hours he could and go to work like any other day of the week.

  “Sit up.” Aria dropped he
r volume. Her yelling turned into a tone that almost sounded genuinely concerned. “Mitchell, sit up, please.” Mitchell sighed heavily and complied. He pulled himself up and leaned against the wall. “Please just talk to me. Don't shut me out of this, you need to talk to me.”

  “I really don't need to talk about it dear. There's no reason to even bring it up. What's done is done. He's dead. We're not. Someday we'll be dead and I'm doubting anyone will argue over it.” He leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

  “Mitchell, you know I'm not going to let this go.” She was right. He knew that she would pester him until he had to get up at five in the morning and then continue while he tried to get ready for work. For such a sweet girl, she was awfully good at getting information from people. He began to wonder why she didn't go into journalism.

  “Fine. What? What do you need to know Aria?” His tone became sharp. It was unintentional, but he didn't feel like apologizing for it.

  “Why don't you seem to care Mitch? I know you didn't get along, but he was still your father.” Aria looked him straight in the eyes. “Why are you dismissive on your own father's death?” Mitchell stared motionless. Aria's eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue and they shined slightly brighter in the pale light of the bedside lamp. He huffed air through his nostrils. He didn't want to bring her into his problems and he never wanted to talk to her about his father. At this point, he decided that there was no avoiding telling her. He cleared his throat and took a breath in.

  “I hated him, Aria. He killed my mother.” He was vague with his statement, he still wasn't ready to fully release how he felt.

  “Mitchell, he didn't kill her. You know what happened to her, there was nothing he could have done to save--”

  “That's not what I mean.” He cut her off. “Look, I know my mother had a seizure. I know she hit her head on the counter, or whatever. But he didn't have to do what he did.” He rubbed his palms together and clasped his fingers.

  “She was in a coma, there was nothing he could have done to fix that either Mitch.” Aria tried her best to convince him he was wrong.

  “I know that. But he didn't have to take her off life support. He had a choice and he chose to just kill her, like he didn't care about what happened. There was still a chance.” He could feel his face tensing and his eyes beginning to well up.

  “Mitchell, don't do that. He waited four months. The doctors told you both that it didn't look good near the beginning and he waited four months.” She was right, he did wait for a third of a year, but no amount of time would have been enough for Mitchell.

  “I know he did Aria and I know she was never going to wake up, but...” He paused. He was certain that he was starting to cry. “I can't accept that he did it. I cannot accept that he was willing to pull the plug like that. For all we know she could've woken up the next day, or two months down the road. It's just...” He paused again to pull himself together. “She raised me Aria. He wasn't there throughout my childhood, but she was. She worked as a teacher, going through all the same stress that I'm going through now, but she still found time to raise me. I made sure that she knew every day that I was there for her too. From the moment I turned thirteen I helped her through her seizures, her issues, everything. I promised her that I would always be there to help her. Then, when this all happened, he had the final say and I couldn't keep my promise to her.”

  “And she did a damn good job raising you Mitchell and I know that she was proud of you, but you need to accept that what happened is what happened. I know it hurts, but I also know that you understand that circumstances warrant the decisions. Your father had to consider everything when he decided to do what he did. Do you really think that he would've done that if he thought for even a moment she was going to wake up?”

  “Yes.” Mitchell's short answer wasn't the appropriate one and he knew it.

  “Mitch, don't do that.” Her look became a stern one.

  “Fine, I don't know. Is that better?” He looked back at her with the same face.

  “Please go. We'll take some time off and go to his funeral. It'll be good for you to face it and give yourself some closure. You need this and he needs this.” She slumped slightly; the conversation was coming to a close.

  “He's dead. He doesn't need anything other than to be buried.” Mitchell's response was a little too direct.

  “We're not getting into a religious debate here. You know what I meant.” She looked at him sternly again.

  “Fine. So we're flying to Jersey then?” He pulled himself away from the wall.

  “Yeah, I'll let Kelly know that I won't be at the bakery for a while. Let's just take the week, I know you have the time off; you never use it.” She moved to lying down. Mitchell chuckled and repositioned to a more comfortable spot, lying on his side facing her. There were a few moments of silence between them. She had closed her eyes, but his were wide open. He watched her lie there for several moments, thinking about the situation. As soon as he was sure that she was about to fall asleep he propped himself up with his arm and decided it was his turn to start a conversation.

  “I think we should have a baby.”

  -----

  Mitchell stood in the hallway with his fellow survivors lying motionless on the carpet in the connecting hallway. The thoughts coursing their way through his mind were frantic. His fear of what had happened to his companions was matched only by the two men that had entered in from the door to the east wing, the area that Mitchell had intended to investigate. He looked them over to gauge the situation. One of them was shorter than average, standing at around five foot. The other was slightly taller than Darren and certainly larger in size. While his bulk was certainly a threat, the rifle that he was holding was definitely a bigger one. Both men were wearing gas masks, which, Mitchell assumed, meant that the group was gassed. This did lead to the question as to why he didn't collapse with them.

  “Who...who are you?” Mitchell didn't want to make any sudden movements. If the man with the gun wasn't going to shoot him without reason, he didn't want to do anything that could make him change his mind.

  “Don't worry about that right now.” The man’s accent was incredibly thick. He stepped forward towards Mitchell. “Open your mouth.” Mitchell was willing to comply. “Your tongue is definitely oddly colored. Have you had any direct contact with the infected?”

  “Not that I can think of. What are you doing? What did you do to them?” While he didn't want to make any sudden movements, he was growing frustrated.

  “Where are the girls?” The short man continued his barrage of questions.

  “Listen, you need to tell me--” Mitchell's anger caused him to raise his tone, which was enough for the man with the gun to lift his rifle and point it at Mitchell.

  “Answer the doctor's question or I'll use you to paint the wall.” The bigger man's voice was deep but he didn't have an accent like the shorter man.

  “King, stand down.” The short man waved a hand towards the man with the gun. “He really has no choice here, so force isn't necessary.” Mitchell looked at both of them; the 'Doctor', as he had put it, was correct; his options were essentially non-existent.

  “They're in the common exam rooms. Rooms five and six. Please, just don't hurt them.” Mitchell gave up the information.

  “I don't intend to hurt them, don't worry.” He stepped towards the door to the central building. “King, stay here and make sure he doesn't go anywhere. Be gentle with him, he's confused so he may act irrationally.” He opened the door. “Do not kill him.” He stepped through and shut the door behind him. Mitchell stood in disbelief over what had just occurred. There were several minutes of silence with him standing in the middle of the hallway and the man the 'Doctor' kept calling 'King' standing still with his gun readied. Mitchell had determined that there was no way out of this situation; he couldn't run and he certainly couldn't take King.

  “Can I sit down?” Mitchell looked over at King and motioned to the floor. King stoo
d still and looked back at Mitchell. He would have been fine with the stare if he could see King's face, but the gas mask was actually intimidating. “I've been standing for a while and all this kind of has me on edge, so if I could just sit down for a min-”

  “Go ahead.” King motioned the tip of his gun towards Mitchell in a pushing manner. Mitchell sat on the floor with his back against the wall. His eyes began to itch as he realized that he was incredibly tired. Looking at the group on the floor he realized that there would have been a benefit to getting knocked out. He yawned and rubbed his hands together. His fingers always got cold when he was tired.

  “So, your name is King?” Mitchell looked at the man. He continued to stand complete still looking at the door that the Doctor had gone through; he was quite the guard. “It's an interesting name.”

  “My name's Reuben. Everyone calls me King.” His responses were short. Mitchell knew that he didn't want to talk, but he had to so he could stay awake. He kept moving his eyes back and forth trying to find anything to get out of the situation he was in. He was certain there was some detail that he had missed, some little thing that would be their escape. 'Maybe King's gun isn't really loaded. Maybe it's just for show.' Mitchell entertained this thought for only a moment. While it was a hopeful idea, it was one that, if he ran with, would probably get him killed. 'On the other hand, the Doctor told him not to kill me, so if I ran up and grabbed his gun I could...' He stopped. He considered the outcome of attempting this as well, and, while it was true that he said to not kill Mitchell, shooting him was still an option. Mitchell put his hand over his shoulder where Denver's bullet had cut him. That was a pain that he didn't want to experience again and he assumed that King was a better shot than Denver was.