The Suburban Dead (Book 2): Emergency

by Sorsby, T. A.

  ‘Then what good would you being there do, right now? I know you might lose people, but there’s nothing you can do from here, and there’s no way you can get to them.’

  She was right. Doctors spend a lot of time cushioning the blow, but she was laying the facts out straight. Facts which I’d been reminding myself, but that didn’t ease the aforementioned sting. I didn’t know what to do about that, so I opted for swearing up a storm under my breath, because I was too mature to stamp my feet and scream it all out loud. Just as I was getting to the really good compound-swears, Sergeant Bailey stepped into view from around an ambo, and began talking to Hale.

  ‘That bitch.’ I muttered to Claire, who took a moment to register I wasn’t still just ranting on. ‘She’s the one who hit me.’

  ‘How hard did you hit her back?’

  ‘I didn’t, I was too shocked to react.’

  ‘What happened?’ Claire asked, putting herself between me and Bailey, so I couldn’t bore a hole through the side of her head with my laser eyes.

  ‘I got in her face about patient welfare, abandoning the hospital. I should have just left the damn place then, but the evacuation wasn’t supposed to be rushed like that. We were supposed to have time. I thought I’d stay until the end, then just take myself off home when we locked the doors behind us. Didn’t think you were going to abduct me and shove me into an ambo.’ I added, along with my best eyebrow raise.

  She called my raise, but didn’t say anything. She really was like a schoolteacher. She just stared you down until you realised you were misbehaving.

  ‘Sorry Miss,’ I tutted. ‘I’m not angry at you. I’m just…angry. In general.’

  ‘I understand.’ She said. ‘But didn’t Captain Hale say he’d be dealing with her, because of the punch? Maybe they’ve already had words. How does that make you feel?’

  ‘I didn’t think you were a psychiatrist.’ I quipped.

  She stared me down again.

  ‘If she apologises to me, I’ll forgive her. We’re adults. Just, this whole situation’s got me on edge.’

  ‘It’s a lot to process. I’m not super keen on leaving Greenfield either. I sent Noodle away to my mother’s, but there are a lot of friends I’m leaving behind. I tried to warn them without warning them, if you know what I mean. I didn’t want to break the oath of secrecy either, but I couldn’t just say nothing.’

  ‘Look at us. Just a couple of noble badasses.’

  ‘With no friends.’ She shrugged.

  ‘Come on,’ I said, making an effort to perk her up – I was supposed to be the moody one, she wasn’t allowed – ‘We’ve still got Emile, Dave and Tony.’

  ‘What about Gavin and Tucker?’

  ‘Fuck Gavin.’ I smirked. ‘Jury’s still out on Tucker.’

  I tried to push thoughts of home a little further from my mind. Nothing could be done now, our destination was set. I would return to Greenfield if I could, as soon as I could. But for now, it didn’t seem like an option.

  Seventeen

  ‘Listen up everyone,’ Captain Hale said, standing on the bonnet of an ATV. He waited a moment for everyone to gather round, or at least, focus their attention his way. I wasn’t gathering, but it was hard not to pay attention. He might not have been a people person, but he had a good voice for public speaking.

  ‘It’s unfortunate that we are all that’s left of the evacuation effort. There should have been more of us here this morning, but the evacuation was pushed ahead of schedule by forces beyond our control.’ It was unspoken, but there was steel in his voice that suggested he was going to add “by Gods we’d tried.”

  ‘The situation at County General was rapidly becoming untenable. Cases of infection were cropping up all over the hospital, in wards where there had previously been no sign of the sickness. A number of armed rioters had also managed to barricade themselves into one of the wards, and as that ward contained previously undiagnosed infected, the virus spread before we could diffuse the situation.

  ‘This meant that the fall of County General was inevitable, and that our mission here has changed. The joint SySec-CDC task force has been instructed to relocate, and that is what we intend to do. Unfortunately, due to a breakdown in communications, we have lost our CDC contingent and a number of good soldiers, officers and medical personnel, who must now make their way without us.

  ‘SySec has tried to save as many lives as possible, and I’m authorised by HQ to take you all back to Sydow, where patients can continue to receive treatment, and any medical personnel or law enforcement will be given housing and paid work to keep the city of Sydow running as it takes in more refugees from across the Midlands.

  ‘I know you’d all much rather be going home right now, to your families and loved ones. But that road is a dangerous one,’ he said, pointing back the direction we’d come. ‘The city of Greenfield has been falling into disarray for the past week, bit by bit. Many of you will have seen the news, the spread of the virus from Rojas to Voison, the so-called “cannibal cult” murders, then most recently, the advice to stay in your homes and limit contact with the infected.

  ‘This is because Greenfield had run out of options. The city officials did not know what to do, they were not prepared, and that lack of decisive action has cost us all dearly.

  ‘Now…Greenfield may not have been prepared to fight this plague, but Sydow is. The city is home to our Company, with a history and military tradition dating back over a thousand years. Behind our walls, we can withstand any foe – even this infection, even the undead creatures that it would make of us.

  ‘So I ask you all – who will come with us, on the road to safety, and who will walk back, on the road to ruin?’

  There were maybe fifty-ish people in our little convoy. It wasn’t enough of a crowd for a loud cheer to rise up, but there were certainly a number of grunted affirmatives, and a lot of raised hands – more and more, when people realised that the raised hand was more of a conclusive show of support than the grunt.

  ‘Then it’s decided.’ Hale nodded. ‘Our plan is to take our vehicles up the emergency lane as far as we can get. Ideally we’ll make it to the checkpoint and be through to the other side without any fuss. But no plan survives first contact with the enemy, and make no mistake, these people blocking the lane – they are the enemy, almost as much as the infected dead are.

  ‘They have blocked free access for emergency and security services vehicles, by selfishly wishing to slip through the quarantine checkpoints set up for the nation’s protection. They endanger everyone by blocking that road.’

  That got a cheer of support from Gavin and Tucker, who’d probably gotten stuck behind someone illegally using the lane before. I know I had in my paramedic days.

  ‘Our ATVs will spearhead a movement down the emergency lane, aiming to clear a path for the ambulances and GFPD cruisers, all of whom will be flashing blues to get the motorists’ attention. Should we find anyone unwilling or unable to move, the ATVs will clear said path by force. Should that fail, then we will continue on foot.’

  There was a murmur of concern from several people.

  ‘Not all the way to Sydow of course,’ Hale chuckled, the militaristic demeanour dropping slightly. My inner cynic told me it was so he could appeal to the masses. ‘But up to the checkpoint at least, where we would hope to find alternate transport.

  ‘However, we cannot leave behind valuable supplies and equipment. I sent our largest vehicle to try another route, off the motorway. They’re carrying everything which was not man-portable. That leaves us with everything that can be hauled by backpack or duffle.

  ‘I would like anyone fit and healthy enough to carry a bag to volunteer. We have several already packed, and more waiting to be filled. I know this may sound unfair, but I’m hoping that civilians and medical staff can carry some of the heavier packs – if things get hairy up ahead, I’d like SySec and GFPD to be at fighting efficiency, best to keep you all safe.’

  ‘Legion re
forms,’ Emile said, appearing at my shoulder, ‘he has sacked the baggage train, and we are to be Hale’s mules.’

  I didn’t understand what he was saying, but I didn’t like the sound of carrying all of Hale’s stolen – ugh, salvaged – gear, even if his reasoning was sound.

  ‘Hey, you’re police. I’ll be the one playing mule, not you.’ I muttered at him, while Hale continued.

  ‘So gather round as soon as you can, we’ll strip everything useful off the ambulances, just in case, and have our bags ready to go for if we need to start walking. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but we’ll be prepared if it does. Let’s get moving, people!’

  With the call to action, people did indeed get moving. SySec organised the handing out of backpacks and duffel bags, a mixture of what must have been Sydow’s own olive-drab or grey ones, and several familiar looking EMT kitbags of various types, most of which looked like they’d come from the ambulances, though there were too many to have just been from the three present.

  Professional soldiers must drill for all kinds of things.

  The convoy hadn’t been here for half an hour, yet all this reorganisation and redistribution was running like a well-oiled machine. As we joined the queue for bags, we were already being sized up for how much they thought we could carry, and upon reaching the front, a soldier handed me a red paramedic bag.

  It was one of the backpack style ones, designed to be laid flat, with the contents all in neatly packed dividers within, which you could flip through like the pages of some oversized, clear plastic textbook.

  You always check your equipment before starting a shift, so Claire and I inspected our bags back at the ambo. SySec had crammed a few energy bars and water bottles where some intubation kits and adhesive dressings should have gone, presumably those bits of gear having made their way into someone else’s bag.

  ‘They aren’t putting all their eggs in one basket. Distributing food and medical supplies like this. If someone doesn’t make it, at least everyone has a bit of something.’

  ‘You sound impressed.’ Claire observed.

  ‘Just because they’re smart doesn’t mean I have to like them. They still bailed on County.’

  ‘You saw how bad it was, they couldn’t have stopped that.’

  ‘I guess we’ll never know.’ I said.

  But we did know. She was right.

  ‘You’re just determined to stop me from being angry, aren’t you?’

  ‘Only as determined as you are to be angry.’ She said, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  I dropped it. It’s hard to argue with people when you know you’re wrong. I was just in a foul mood, but at least there was a damn good cause for it. Still, constantly sniping at those around me wasn’t going to make things any easier.

  We put our bags under the seats in the back of our ambo, Tony doing the same with the big military pack he’d been given. Emile and Dave joined us at the back a few minutes later, both of them sporting pump-action shotguns, and possibly a few more pouches on their utility belts. Emile had also added a bullet-proof vest to his ensemble, his silver police shield affixed in plain view.

  ‘We all ready?’ he asked.

  ‘Would feel better with a gun. Or at least a flashlight.’ I told him.

  ‘Good job Dr Grey gave it back to me.’ He nodded, taking the heavy light off his belt and offering it to me.

  ‘I was joking, but actually, thanks.’ I said, accepting the improvised bludgeon. The only place I could stow it was the deep pocket on the inside of my jacket, where the weight made it hang awkwardly.

  ‘Hale is pretty sure it’s going to get hairy if we need to go on foot. This makes me feel better at least.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Dave said, ‘I don’t think anyone’s going to be stupid enough to try anything with all these soldiers and cops around. People can be idiots, but they’re not that stupid.’

  Silence reigned for a moment.

  Dave shook his head. ‘Yeah, forget I said that.’

  We boarded our ambo again, Gavin and Tucker up front, the rest of us in the back. Emile was standing by the open doors, waiting to hear the word to move out, and when it came, he slammed them shut and parked his rear next to me again.

  ‘He was right. No plan survives first contact with the enemy. So much for us going home.’ He said to me.

  I looked down and let out a deep breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. ‘Yeah…’

  Emile reached across and put his hand over mine, which was resting on my leg. He didn’t say anything for a moment, while he tried to find the words.

  ‘No matter what happens, on the road, or in Sydow, I have your back. We need to stick together.’

  ‘We all do.’ Claire added. ‘If we have to abandon the vehicle, we need to look out for each other, or we might not make it.’

  Dave seemed to agree with this, as he detached something from his belt and offered it out to Claire. ‘It’s extendable. You just, sort of, flick it out. Push the button on the bottom and shove it back in to collapse it again.’

  I looked at Emile. ‘You gave me a flashlight.’

  ‘You asked for one.’ He shrugged in reply, a tiny smile fighting its way across his lips. ‘You can have my baton if you like, but then what will I give to Tony?’

  ‘Oh, thanks Emile!’ Tony enthused, gratefully accepting the slim, cylindrical holster. Like Claire, he set about attaching it to his belt.

  ‘This is bullshit. Again. Double bullshit Emile.’

  ‘I asked Tony earlier if he had done your country’s national service programme, and yes, he said he had…’

  ‘I actually had to do an extended period, since I have dual nationality.’ Tony shrugged, ‘I started with three months in the catering corps before they let me near the rifle range. I guess it’s some loyalty thing, like, hey, the War was fifty years ago, get over it, right? Plus it’s not like my parents fought, they came over as political exiles so I’m totally a Citizen of the Republic. I’ve never even been to Alsatia.’

  For a man who I took to be in his late twenties or early thirties, he reminded me more of an excited teenager when he spoke. Never stopping, always going, and adding on every thought that came to mind as he went. That being said, the only teenager I knew well was Morgan, and she wasn’t half as ramblomatic as Tony.

  ‘So he gets the baton, having had at least some close combat training.’ Emile summed up. ‘The only thing stopping me from giving him a gun is his lack of licence. It would be against the law to arm him, even in this time of crisis, without knowing he was suitably qualified.’

  ‘This might not be the best of times to enforce that law,’ Dave said to him, ‘we might need every capable shooter we can get, licenced or not.’

  ‘I wasn’t the best of shots anyway Emile – that’s why I wasn’t bothered about going for the licence after.’ Tony nodded. ‘I liked the catering corps a whole lot more than basic training and border patrol. You got a few sacks of potatoes you need turning into chips, I’m your man.’

  I actually couldn’t help but crack a grin at that, likewise, everyone else shared a chuckle, Tony sitting back and looking perfectly content with his baton.

  I studied him for a moment, remembering his anger from earlier. He’d accepted the situation pretty quickly, and adapted. If everyone would have reacted to the ERHR booklet the same way Tony had, then it would have been a mistake keeping it from the general public. Perhaps we shouldn’t have kept it a secret. Perhaps someone should have blown the whistle, not just got their families to safety on the sly. Perhaps I was complicit in that.

  The ambulance engine rumbled to life, and put a quick end to that depressing train of thought. Our lives might have been about to get dangerous again, and I needed to stay ready for anything.

  ‘Alright.’ Emile said, loud enough for the EMTs up front to hear. ‘I am going to guess we will have to abandon this vehicle. In that event, stay close to each other, move as one, do not lag behind and do not rush ahead. If you
see a danger, call it out to everyone, make sure we all see it.’

  ‘Keep your weapons holstered until you need them,’ Dave added, loud as Emile, ‘there’ll be loads of civilians in those cars and if they see non-uniformed people walking around tooled up, they’ll take it into their heads to do the same. We don’t want to escalate any conflicts.’

  ‘What if there are infected, and we get grabbed because we had our sticks folded up?’ Claire asked, waving around the collapsed baton.

  ‘Then Emile or myself will help you, on account of us all standing so close and calling out dangers well in advance. Remember?’

  ‘Got it.’ Claire nodded, carefully.

  ‘Come on,’ I tried, ‘better to have these things and not need them. I’d be happier with a gun but I’d rather not use it.’

  ‘I am never giving you a gun,’ Emile shook his head, ‘we might have to relax the holding of a licence, but you have not done your service, you do not know how to shoot and I do not want to get shot in the back by accident.’

  ‘You are just no fun.’

  Eighteen

  The ambulance was waved into line behind the three ATVs, each of which had a soldier up top with their rifle out – not aimed at anyone of course, but the point was rather that it could be if you weren’t careful, sunshine. The other ambulances pulled into line behind us and presumably behind them were the GFPD cruisers, though our view was blocked.

  At some other unseen signal, the quiet hum of our engines was drowned out by the sound of six sets of emergency service sirens blaring at once.

  If I told you it was loud, that wouldn’t be doing it justice. There’s an all-encompassing presence to sound like that, almost like being at a huge concert, only instead of the music singing “Over here, come enjoy me”, it’s blaring out a scream of “Nee-nah! Nee-nah! Move now! Out the way! Coming through! Shift your ass!”

  The ambulance sirens are a brassier, deep two-tone, while the police ones were a higher pitched wail. Together they made potentially the most ear-bleeding attention-catching noise you could get. There was no way anyone on that road was going to miss us as we pushed our way up the emergency lane.