by Mark Clodi
Juan looked at the doctor, cast his face down and turned away without a word, he walked about fifteen feet away and assumed a guard like stance in the hallway. The doctor started to go after him, but stopped when Juan looked him in the eye and shook his head slowly from side to side. Sighing Sam shrugged his shoulders and said, “Maybe later, huh?” and ducked back into the maternity ward, leaving Juan to answer an empty hallway, “No, not even later.”
Jack and John got back a few minutes later to find Juan alone in the hallway, they looked at each other and then Jack said, “It is pretty clear, John says the zombie’s leader cleared everybody out to hike after the radio dj yesterday. We found a few dead people, but no one alive or zombified.”
“Sì. No problems here either, ready to go get the others and get the doors blocked up?”
Jack and Juan left John to guard the doctors and nurses and went down the hallway to load the corpses onto a gurney and take them down the elevator to the ER. As they passed the other zombie that Juan had killed one of the men, paused to kick him several times, explaining he had killed his wife, then they tossed the body on top of the other four and continued out into the ER. Once there they moved all the other bodies out of the way to make a path to the door, where they took their burdens outside to the corner of the building and dumped them. Several more trips and all the bodies in the ER were gone but the place was still a gory mess. A couple of the men got mops and did some clean up while the rest of the group figured out how to turn off the automatic doors. Outside the zombies were still trickling in, but they were all of the slow variety and easily dealt with. The crew from the club salvaged everything they could out of the trucks before they filled the foyer area between the inner and outer doors with furniture from the lobby, it was not fool proof, but nothing was going to get through there without a lot of effort and a lot of noise. Then they called back to the Mike’s Club and heard that the other convoy was just getting underway, eight vans, cars and trucks filled with the first thirty people and some of the supplies was heading out and should be there within an hour. Among other things they were bringing about a thousand shells of shotgun ammunition.
The group in the ER went back upstairs to let them know what was going on and then they split into groups one headed down to the hospital cafeteria to clear it for the incoming food, and maybe get something to eat. The others stayed up in the maternity ward, including Charlie and Mary, whom they put into a room nearby, the Doctors were all over her when they heard she had been bitten. The others, including Terry and Jen, just kept watch on the hallways, in case there were some zombies running still around that they had missed in their quick sweep of the building. The group that went into the kitchen had an unpleasant surprise in the form of one of the cooks who had turned into a zombie. This woman jumped out at them from the shadows before they had the chance to turn the lights on. Luckily she was a typical slow zombie and other than the initial scare factor, she was easy to put down. They tossed her body out the back of the kitchen into the loading dock area for the cafeteria then quickly locked the doors against the three or four zombies that were drawn to their movement when they opened the door in the first place. Again the men from the maternity ward got out mops and cleaned the area, spraying disinfectant over all everything to make the decontamination complete.
Juan was curious so he asked one of the men, “Why are you always cleaning up everything? The mops in the maternity ward, yeah I get that, but to do the ER and now the kitchen, man that is a lot of work, we can get it later, right amigo?”
The man just looked at Juan and replied, “No, Juan, they might pass this by blood contact, you get an open wound you get infected, you die, you turn, you make them stronger and us weaker. The doc said to clean up and disinfect to the best of our ability, so that is what we do, and the kitchen, well I get the impression you are going to be moving in here with us and we are going to need this to be working. So cleaning it up is very important.”
Juan left him at it and rummaged around for some food they could make quickly, he didn’t find any. Didn’t the hospital have any snacks? Apparently not. He found plenty of raw chicken, hamburger patties and other frozen meats, even steak and fish, but nothing that fell within his domain of cooking experience. Admittedly his abilities were very limited. Nanci took care of the cooking, unless it was on the grill. They were a very liberal ‘traditional’ family. Nanci still managed the household, Juan managed….to earn the money. Their system had worked out so far even if it hearkened back to the nineteen fifties.
Sighing Juan turned towards Jack, who was also sighing and turning towards Juan, their eyes locked and they both laughed.
“You thinking what I am thinking?” asked Jack.
“If you are thinking that I hope Nanci is coming with them, then yeah.” answered Juan.
“Well I was thinking something along those lines, do we dare ask Jen, Terry or Mary for help in this or do we just say there was nothing we felt we could cook?”
“Uh, I think we just say we can’t cook and let it go at that, if they volunteer good, if someone volunteers good. Not Mary though, she is hurt.”
The other men were finishing up with the last of the pans that had been sprayed and after a quick question confirmed they were not much in the way of cooks either. They went into an adjoining hallway and blocked it off with furniture from the cafeteria to cut it off from the western wing, then headed up to the second floor to rejoin their friends and see how Mary was doing.
The first thing they saw was a group standing outside of the door where they had put Mary. Terry turned to Juan and approached him, saying in Spanish, “They don’t know anything, they cut her up a bit, disinfected her more and started an IV, but they don’t really know anything about stopping an infection like this. Hell Juan from looking at her wound I almost think it came from a chair leg, not from being bitten.”
Shaking his head Juan replied in Spanish as well, “No, the zombie, he said he had her taste, I don’t think he was lying, maybe he was.” Shrugging Juan, went on, “Can you cook? We can’t, all the stuff down there needs to be made, like chicken or beef or whatever. I could warm up some green beans. Like a gallon of green beans. Not a very good dinner though.”
It was Terry’s turn to shake her head, “Never was much good for industrial cooking, I can help, or we can wait, I think these folks are hungry though, didn’t they have any fruit or anything to tide the mom’s over?”
“Uh I didn't see any, do you want to come help me look again, maybe I missed it.”
“Sure I’ll go with you, let's take Jen too, she is feeling useless up here, grab the janitors and lets head back down.”
“Janitors?” Juan asked.
“You didn’t know? Yeah they work here, the doctor played them off as nursing staff, which I guess they are, that was the only thing that kept them from being killed by the zombies. The zombie leaders thought they were professionals or something. They are though, aren't they?”
Juan nodded, “Well that explains how they always know where to find the cleaning supplies. I’ll get them.”
They went downstairs and this time Juan asked the janitors if they knew were the fresh food was kept. They went to another door that Juan thought led to a deep freeze, but was, in fact, just a giant walk in refrigerator. The janitors also knew which door led to a pantry full of dried foods. Soon enough the group was back with a bag full of crackers and fruit, the new moms ate first, but all the former captives had a couple pieces of fruit, the group from Mike’s Club shared their granola bars around and they waited for word from the caravan while they watched the sun creep steadily towards the mountains.
Back at the Mike’s Club they were keeping close track of the caravan, which was creeping along at very slow speed towards the hospital, maybe making twenty miles per hour, so it would take them about forty five minutes to reach it. Among the riders on the caravan were the most hurt people from the club, those who needed medical attention the Doc could not provi
de for them. There weer also several non-combatant women, a couple of children and of course, Nanci. She was in the first car of the caravan, urging her driver to hurry and be cautious at the same time.
Finally getting irritated he turned around and told her to keep her eyes on the sides of the road around them and stop being a back seat driver, even if she was in the back seat. Disgruntled, Nanci sat back and did as she was told, fingering the shotgun safety as she prepared to blast any zombie stupid enough to get in the way as she made her way back to the man she loved.
Chapter 15
Back at the Mike’s Club warehouse Hank was not happy. The doc told him he was going to have to lay low for a couple weeks, take it easy and concentrate on mental tasks while his body repaired itself, however with his best friend out running around clearing zombies from a hospital he could not ‘rest easy’. One thing Hank had learned in his years was that good friends, truly good friends, could never be replaced. It had taken Juan and his family a long while to convince Hank that just because he had been through hell once, not everyone was like that. The funny thing to Hank was he didn’t think all people were bad, or evil, only that a very small percentage of people were, maybe one in ten thousand. No, the problem with Hank was not that he believed most people were good, his problem was he no longer trusted implicitly his ability to tell the good people from the bad ones.
When he was a young pup he was more than happy to choose and stand by any of his friends and family, until death if need be, he was that sure of himself and that sure that he was bullet proof. Then came his ex-wife, after that mess it was a wonder he didn’t spend some time in a sanitarium somewhere. Not that Hank ever would have admitted anything in so many words, hurting was not something he had been raised to share around. Now when he was stuck sitting in a lazy boy discussing work shifts of the people at the club with the Doc, or reading the kids stories, or snoozing like he was supposed to be.
When he woke from his nap and found that Juan had gone without him, well that made him feel…lost, almost. He and Juan had been together for a long time almost inseparable for the past three or four years and now Juan was gone, and Hank might not ever see him again. Nancy was on the edge too, and Evaine was trying to keep both of them sane, but really only made matters worse. Hank had to give her credit, because she then did the only thing that could have helped, she backed off and left them to stew alone. Cage and Sylvia came by, Sylvia had their shoes, Cage wouldn’t put his on, he said the other boys weren’t wearing them and he liked the way the concrete kept his feet cool in the hot warehouse. Hank held on to both of them for awhile, shoes or no, but they only stayed with him for a little while before being caught back up into the pack of tweens running wild through the warehouse. Well, not quite true, they were still being shadowed by a group of older girls, who were quick to step up when any of the kids tried to do anything the adults wouldn’t like.
This left Hank alone to think, old man Gonzales was handling most of the current moment to moment things. Everyone could tell Hank was in a funk, heck, Hank figured they could even have handled the rotating shift problem without his input, but he thought they wanted to make Hank feel a little better by giving him something to do. Feeling useless was new to Hank and didn't care for it. Worse his side itched, under the bandages, itched something fierce, but every time he moved around to scratch or touch the wounds, he writhed in pain. The Doc just told him to pop another pain pill.
Finally Kevin stopped by. He plopped into the seat next to Hank and said, “I think we feel the same way. You stuck on your chair, not out bashing heads with your friend, me not able to do much outside, Doc ordered me inside, said to rest. So I have to rest, but Juan can go shoot zeds? What is up with that? I mean, we all three came in together and only you were really busted up a bit. I was just tired and slept most of the morning away. Been playing video games with some of the other teens.”
“Winning?” asked Hank.
“Sure, I schooled em good, an old timer like me, that surprised ‘em too.” Kevin snorted, “Me! An ‘old timer’! Still I got their respect at video games. Probably the last generation of games out now, huh? I mean we ain’t gonna be seeing a new Playstation or Xbox anytime soon now are we?”
Hank slowly shook his head, “Even if I knew what you were talking about I would have to say, ‘No, I guess not’. So you even beat old man Gonzales’s grandson? I heard he was pretty good.”
It was Kevin’s turn to shake his head, “No we haven't played yet. And yeah the dude’s practically a legend, the older boys all talk about it and want me to play him, to see who is better, we are gonna do five matches tonight, ten minute rounds, go three out of five. They have some system worked out, like, so if I own him most of one match it counts as more or something. I don’t care, I play the game, I win the game, plus this Al, right? He is like old, twenty or something, his reflexes gotta be giving out by now.”
“Twent..twenty or some… Old!” Hank sputtered.
Kevin started laughing, “Gotcha! See your girl, she is good for something, told me to come over and wind you up a bit, take your mind off Juan being gone.”
Hank laughed, “Oh, okay, I get it now.”
“I did want to go with them though, the doc told me to stay here and get some rest, he said I was beat down hard and needed a break to recover, at least a day, maybe two. You know what the worst thing is Hank?”
“No, what?”
“The stupid doctor is right. My legs are sore, my back is sore, my mind is still running at a hundred miles an hour, I can’t stop thinking about my mom. My family. Everything that happened. I don’t know that I ever will. You’re lucky you know, you got your best friend and your neighbors, who care about you a lot.” Kevin held up one hand in front of him in a stop gesture, “No, I ain’t going down pity road or telling you to ‘man up’ or anything, I just think you are lucky and I am happy to know you. And thanks, really, thanks for giving me a hand up with I was just spent. I wouldn’t have made it without you and Juan.”
“Aw, well, you seemed like a pretty nice guy. I mean there we were on top of the gas station, there you were running in the alley away from a few fast zombies, heading right towards the pack that had us treed. I said to myself, ‘I could just let him run into the pack, distract them so me and Juan could get away.’ But then Juan, that old softy, said, ‘Give him a hand up Hank’. So what could I do? I didn’t want to look bad in front of Juan.”
Kevin snorted, “Yeah right old man, I don’t believe that for a second!”
Hank smiled, “Oh no? You don’t think I can be ruthless?”
“Oh no Hank, you can, but not to anyone younger than you are, which is most of the population now.” that brought another laugh to Hank and after awhile they started chatting about what they were going to do if the hospital was clear and what they would do if it wasn’t. Eventually word reached them that the scouting party had found survivors in the form of doctors and nurses and new mothers, and there were babies who could not be moved from the hospital.
The doc, old man Gonzales and Beth came over to talk to Hank about it. Kevin stayed in his lazy boy, so he could add his two cents in and Evaine was shadowing the group, keeping one ear on them while both eyes were on the toddlers in their makeshift pen.
Doc started the conversation off, saying, “They found eleven survivors in the hospital, and an unspecified number of babies, we have to decide what we are going to do. It took them about an hour to go the four miles and lead a pack of slow zombies away from the emergency room entrance. I think we could send a relief force to them with some of the able bodied men and women, plus all of our walking wounded, food and ammo. No kids or anything yet, just people to clean out Sky Ridge and hold off any hordes of zombies. The rest of us lay low here, even if we send out fifty people there will be over two hundred and fifty of us left, and at the rate survivors are trickling in we’ll replace the fifty by sundown. Those are my thoughts, anyone else got an opinion?”
“You we
re thinking fifty people then? We got enough cars for that?” asked Hank.
Gonzales answered “Not without taking some off the line, giving up a little space, we got drivable vehicles, but that would take, what? A dozen cars?”
“Okay then, how many free vehicles do we have?”
“We-ell” Gonzales began in his Spanish accented drawl, “I got nine I could spare pretty easily, plus we got the semi and trailer, but we need a bus, you know?”
“But if we send all the cars to the hospital, how long will it take to get, say another ten cars ready to go? If we need to caravan to another place.”
Gonzales thought about it for a minute, his wrinkled forehead flexing while he thought, bringing his gray white eyebrows almost together, “About forty minutes, is all. For the good ones, I mean we are putting a lot of em into the wall, but we try to hold back the better vehicles.”
Kevin volunteered an idea, “So send eight cars, while Gonzales starts pulling ten from the line, send em in twenty minutes so at least half the cars are ready in case of an emergency and get the truck ready to roll in case we have to bail out of here.”
“That is a pretty good idea, anyone see anything wrong with it?” asked Hank again.
“No, well, we won’t be able to send fifty people though, not in eight vehicles, figure four each, that is thirty two people, I can ask for volunteers, but probably half should be the worst hurt, we have a lot of broken bones and that guy who got electrocuted trying to hook his generator up, he should go now, they probably can’t do anything for him, but they can do more than I can.” said Doc.
“Good, that all sounds good to me. Do I qualify as one of the most wounded?” asked Hank.
“No!” the others said in unison. Doc continued, “You are stable, probably a second tripper, unless you start going all pale and pissing out blood. Yeah I want to get you checked out better, but we have bones that need to be set, they take precedent. You stay. For now.”
