Authors: Christopher Cox
We complied, each of us, silently exiting and meeting on the narrow sidewalk attached with the rear of the building. With forethought, I returned to the car for my much-beloved crowbar; Travis didn’t object, even though I was somewhat armed- perhaps because it wasn’t nearly as well as he was. He was on guard now, and invited us forward with a subtle wave of his pistol. The look in his eyes was clear-
move or die.
As a group, we rounded the corner of the building towards the front. Finding the front door to be unlocked, we went inside- first me, then the children, then Lisa followed by a still-enraged Travis.
The lobby was as it had been left, with the organized simplicity that the medical profession had perfected and natural light filtering through the large tinted windows. The printed posters and fact sheets that were taped to the walls reflected the fear and confusion that was rampant in those final days, and our inability to comprehend what we were facing. As human beings, we were used to surviving and overcoming- it had been hard for us to accept that this time would be very different.
‘GL25 Flu (Dahmer Flu)’, one poster screamed in thick, bold letters. It was followed by a series of completely useless tips and advisories. I caught snippets as I passed.
…particularly affects children and the elderly…
…wash the affected area with soap and warm water and keep clean and dry…
…seek medical attention immediately…
We passed through the door next to the reception area, despite the sign that read, ‘
patients only’
, and stopped in the sparse tiled hallway. Lisa and I turned on our flashlights, bouncing light throughout the enclosed space; she handed Madi another, who did the same.
I turned, hearing Lisa’s voice. “Madi, Robert- in here.” She held open the door to the supply closet opposite the receptionists’ area.
“Why?” Madi asked. “I don’t want to go in there.” Robert nodded in agreement.
“It won’t be long,” Lisa countered. “I just want you to stay here where we know you’re safe. Until we can check out the rest. Got it?”
Madi turned to me. “Dad, do we have to?”
“Yeah, just for a bit. Stay there ‘til we come get you.”
Defeated, Madi and Robert filed into the small room, flipping the flashlight on as the door closed. I sensed that Lisa knew what she was doing, and trusted her instincts.
“In here,” she said to Travis as she pushed the door open and walked into the first of the examination rooms. “We’ll get-” She stopped in mid-sentence and backed from the room; a badly decomposed body was propped upright on the examination table, only partially obscured by a white sheet. Its socketless eyes stared in our direction and the slack jaw fixed the mouth into an ironic grin. The smell of old death raced from the room, releasing as much into the hallway as it could before we closed the door on it. The stench lingered, but didn’t seem to bother any of us any longer.
The next room was empty, and Lisa talked Travis though the process. He looked to be near death already, having gotten worse even since we entered, but he still grasped his pistol with a white-knuckled grip as if he could intimidate death itself with it.
“Hop up,” Lisa instructed with detached professionalism. Travis did as she asked, although it was far from ‘hopping’ when he eased himself onto the examination table and leaned heavily against the raised backrest. She held his eyelids open and shined her light into the pupils- they didn’t react to the light. “I’m going to find what I need; this place looks like it’s more or less intact. Try to stay awake,” she said to him before disappearing into the darkness. I could hear her rummage through nearby cabinets and containers before she returned, carrying three large needles. She pulled a free-standing wheeled metal tray closer to the table and carefully arranged them in a specific order. Travis looked nervous, but he was already having trouble lifting his head from the cushion, following instead with his eyes. The gun sat in his lap, held with a limp hand; it was tempting to try for it, but I wasn’t sure how much strength he had left in reserves. When I closed for a better look, he shifted the barrel towards me- he was still watching.
Lisa held up the first of the needles where Travis was able to see. “This one is Fentanyl, it’s going to help with the pain.” She put it back in its specific place and picked up the next in the series. “This is the Niacin, this is going to draw the toxins out though your pores.” He nodded slowly as she replaced it and took the last. “This is an antiemetic; it’ll help with the nausea you’re going to feel. Do you understand?” He nodded.
With precise, practiced hands, she gave the quick series of injections. He didn’t react to the needle, but after a few seconds his eyelids began to grow heavy. He struggled to keep them open, but they closed despite his efforts. He grimaced as he tried to lift the gun, but his body betrayed him and he struggled uselessly with its weight before giving up with a frustrated and forced groan. In a few moments he was still, except for shallow and labored breathing.
“What did you do?” I whispered, as if he’d wake. I carefully pried the pistol from his loose hands and tucked it into my waistband. The safety was already on- I didn’t think too much about what that could mean.
She didn’t take her eyes from him, watching to make sure he stayed under, as she explained. “It’s much like the first part of the rapid sequence intubation process.” I had no idea what she was talking about, but didn’t interrupt. “The first shot was an overdose of Fentanyl, which acted as the analgesic. Followed that with etomidate, which is a sedative hypnotic agent, then succinylcholine as the paralytic. Weak as he was already, it was pretty quick to knock him out. Normally, this’d be followed by intubation, but that’s not really the point here. He’s all yours.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
She looked at me as if I were a naive child and rested a hand on my forearm. “Brad, are you going to let him live? He’s bit- there’s no hope for him. By the time he wakes up, he’s going to be another one of those ‘stalkers. Don’t leave him to that; let him go out in his sleep. Be merciful.”
“Okay, yeah,” I answered. She left the room towards the supply closet, leaving me to my macabre task. “Sorry this happened to you,” I whispered to his still form. I wondered if he was able to hear me. “I hope your family’s okay; at least they didn’t have to see you like this.” I brought the crowbar high over my head, and then brought it down directly onto his forehead. His skull split neatly as the metal bar sunk deep into it, spilling pink brain matter and splintered bone down his disfigured face and onto the table.
It was easy this time. It didn’t used to be easy.
I saw the flashlight shining from the reception area; Madi and Robert were searching for anything useful. Lisa, too, moved from one area to the next, loading medicines and supplies into a clean pillowcase. Seeing me, she stopped what she was doing and came to my side.
“You okay?” She whispered.
“Yeah… I’m fine,” I said, not having to lie this time. “Does Niacin really help?”
“No. It’ll as likely kill you in high doses as do anything else. But he didn’t know that… and hope, that can kill you, too.”
I hated that she was right.
The car wouldn’t restart, but surprisingly the ambulance did; the diesel fuel lasted longer and the tank was nearly full. Removing the bloody gurney and other useless debris allowed enough room to fit the four of us, the bags from the car, and the other things that we found in the clinic and the surrounding area before night fell. In a rare bit of good fortune, we found another pistol in the clinic’s reception area, which I gave to Lisa; I could only hope that Madi wouldn’t ever need to hold one again.
We drove north through the night, getting as far away as possible from the undead city of Ashland. Lisa and the children had fallen asleep but I continued on, only stopping along the way, when the fuel ran low. I siphoned what we needed to continue and noticed that the air was starting to get cooler, even for night time, which drew a shiver from thin shirt-covered form. It was a good sign, encouraging that we were getting closer.
That stop for fuel, the brief delay, was what saved our lives.
Miles ahead, the sky was beginning to lighten, although the sun hadn’t yet risen above the horizon. The dim light was barely enough to make out movement, far ahead but in the road. I stopped the vehicle, and the binoculars brought the scene to grisly life.
A herd of ‘stalkers was crossing the road, much like the herds of buffalo in the wild west stories I had read as a kid. My mind scanned the memory and applied it to the current situation- the buffalo herds, back when there was such a thing, were so large that they could take days to pass. I didn’t see much of a difference here. They crossed the road, all moving in the same direction, the line stretching from where it began behind uneven hills to where it disappeared into a dense field of neglected, overgrown brush. Individually, the ‘stalkers were varied- some were broken and damaged, while others were fresh and bloody; but as a whole, it was like watching the creation of a force of nature. And much like the weather, knowing and avoiding the patterns of the undead had become a routine fact of life. They were mindlessly following each other, for all I knew what could be in a massive circle, only understanding that movement was in a certain direction. Eventually, those in the lead would slow due to terrain or distraction, creating a gradually growing mass which, in turn, attracts others. Soon after that, a full horde would develop and move on as an unquenchable mob like the one that we had seen too recently.
Lisa woke up first. “We stopped?” she asked, blinking the sleep from her eyes.
“Yeah, look,” I said, pointing to the creatures in the distance.
“How long have we been waiting?” She asked.
“I dunno. Just before sun-up; few hours maybe. We just gotta wait it out and watch that they don’t change direction- otherwise we’ll have to double back.” I was exhausted, but didn’t dare to sleep in case the ‘weather pattern’ shifted.
Eventually, the children woke as well, and we all stared in silent vigil, passing the time with uncomfortable conversation and sporadic meals. The procession continued for hours, which stretched into the day in its entirety and finally into the night. The string of ‘stalkers had only started to slow and develop gaps by that time, as the light began to drain from the sky; by nightfall, when it was too dark to see, I drifted into an uneasy sleep as Lisa kept watch.
By morning, the road was empty, quiet and still, as if the previous day was a terrible dream. I noticed that Lisa had fallen asleep at some point during the night, so I had no way to know just how long the road had been clear; they may have been minutes away as easily as hours. I brought the engine to life and with the others still asleep I picked up speed, using the long road to gain the momentum to shoot quickly through the crossing area- involuntarily, I shuddered as I passed.
We drove on, each day bringing us closer to what I could only hope was safety- we’d come too far to fail. We took what we needed, or sometimes what we wanted, along the way- it had become easy, normal even. The world had changed, and we had been forced to change with it. All that mattered now was survival- it no longer mattered how, and much less why.
All that kept us going as we drove into an unknown future was the hope of a better life; and hope, I recalled, could be fatal.
THE END
We left the ambulance when it wasn’t able to handle the terrain any longer, carrying what we could on our backs and bundled in as many clothes as we could wear. I hid the vehicle best I could off the road and made a note of where we left it- I would come back for the rest later.
With effort, with each of us exhausted and cold, we crested the last of the low peaks and saw a vast unspoiled expanse below us. The snow was rolling and pure, broken only by the thick collections of proud trees that bordered the other sides of the span. Comfortingly, birds and other animals roamed freely through the tree line. That meant that the undead weren’t nearby, and I’d imagine never had been.
It appeared that others had the same plan. A small collection of winter tents formed a half-circle around the burning fire that occupied most of a shallow pit. A tall stack of dried wood was piled carefully on the edge of their campsite and covered with a blue tarp, and strips of meat hung limply on a free-standing wooden structure, drying in the cold sunlight.
A man and a woman emerged from one of the tents and stood facing in our direction. They didn’t speak to each other, nor call out to us, but they made it clear that they had seen us. He casually carried a hunting rifle, but had it pointed to the ground; the woman, I assumed, was armed as well, although I couldn’t see a weapon. The woman turned behind her, and said something that I couldn’t hear; moments later the rest of the group emerged. There weren’t many, a dozen at most, and most were armed- much better armed than we were. Both groups stared at each other, not sure what to make of the situation.
Lisa leaned in close to me. “Do we run?” she whispered.
“Where?” I whispered back. “If they’re aggressive and we run, they’ll find us real quick in the snow. They can just follow the tracks, and their men are going to be faster than our children anyways. Besides that, we don’t have enough fuel or food to get too far away. But if they were going to do anything, I don’t think they’d have the women and children around. Let’s see how this plays out, but if anything does happen, just get the kids out of here.”
“Where?”
“It doesn’t matter, just-” I stopped speaking when one of the men began to walk in our direction. The men ushered the women and children back into the tents, but stayed out themselves- by my own logic, that was a bad sign. “Take the kids a little bit down the road. You hear any shots, just go, try to get as far as you can. You got your pistol, right?” It was a rhetorical question- I knew she did. But it made the point; she had to be ready to use it.
“Yes.”
The man was getting closer, less than a football field’s length away now. Lisa wordlessly ushered the children back the way we had come. It seemed that we all shared the same thought, “
The living could be worse than the dead”.
I adjusted the pistol in my jacket pocket, and started down the steep slope towards the man, meeting him part way between my ridge and his camp. The man was thin and deeply tan, with bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and an unkempt beard from lack of supplies. I doubted that I looked any better to him.
“What are you doing here?” He asked in a gravel voice. His arms cradled the rifle, and I noticed that he had slipped his finger into the trigger guard. I was careful not to make any sudden moves.
“Just looking for a place safe enough to settle down, just like anybody else. We’re not here to cause any trouble.”
He thought for a moment. “I saw kids with you.” It was a question.
He didn’t seem to be the type for too much conversation, so I kept my answer short, like his questions. “Yeah. They’re hungry and tired.”
“They with you or the woman?”
“They’re all with me.”
The stared for an uncomfortable length of time, but I didn’t look away. At one time, I may have felt intimidated, but my threshold seemed to have changed, given what we’d been through. “Okay,” he said finally. “Call your folks and C’mon with me.” He waited while I climbed back to the ridge and motioned for Lisa and the children. They came to where I stood, and we started back towards the camp.
“This is good land,” the man began. “Don’t know if we can grow anything, but there’s lotsa wildlife, and you’re the first people we seen since we came here.”
“Thanks for not shooting us, then,” I joked halfheartedly, hoping to lighten the mood.
“You’re welcome,” Said the man with all sincerity.
The others emerged once we got to camp; they seemed to be good people, although hardened by adversity. They had met up somewhere in Idaho and made their way north until they found their new home. Among them was Nick and Tammy, originally from Denver; they had made it this far with their young daughter, Mia, and infant son, Jayden. I was ashamed at how much I despised the man, how unjustifiably jealous I was that he was able to do what I could not- he kept his family safe, they had survived.
There were new challenges, of course. Building permanent shelters before the winter hit full force was first, then stocking enough food to feed everybody. Water was easy- snow melted and there was plenty of that. Over time, other survivors came to the area, trickling in like refugees from the war-torn South. Each brought with them their own supplies and skills, and soon we had a basic community. By necessity, we began to form a societal structure, which led to rules. The rules led to the establishment of authority, which codified the law. With law came crime, and with crime came punishment. It was the natural progression that was found when people formed groups; we retreated into what we knew in a desperate attempt to survive the undead, the weather and each other.
Soon, our small world began to mirror the one we had left behind in ruins, although on a much smaller scale, and some chose to leave it and try to create something better. Some of the groups, we never heard from again, occasionally finding that they had succumbed to a particularly harsh winter or the wildlife. Others survived, and became neighboring communities. There were minor skirmishes, and there was trade- everything evolved according to our very nature as human beings. But despite the differences that we felt, we were all bound by one common element, the thing that we all shared.
We had all survived. For now.