The Dead Don't Bleed: Part 2, The Aftermath (32 page)

She first started noticing a problem several minutes before her controls told her that her plane was in trouble. The amount of thrust available started bleeding off and it took more force against the control stick to keep the plane in level flight. Her first thought was that she was heading into a much stronger headwind and that it would pass once they
moved beyond the air pocket. As her control of the plane continued to falter she realized that some type of mechanical malfunction had to be behind it. By the time the warning lights started flashing on her control panel she already knew that there was little chance she was going to be making it back to the carrier. Even though she had practiced and trained for situations where she may have to eject over hostile territory, this was something completely different that no level of training would have ever prepared her for. She was flying over her home country, just outside of the nation’s capital and the thought of setting foot on the ground there was more terrifying than if she had been shot down behind enemy lines in a combat zone. Her instruments showed that the air was free of contaminants give her at least one less thing to worry about outside of the safety of her cockpit. It was the demons that waited for her on the ground that terrified her. In most war zones the enemy may follow some level of decorum in dealing with a downed pilot. The enemy she would now be facing operated on pure animal instinct and the rules of warfare did not apply to them.

Running through the inventory of her survival gear in her head she realized just how vulnerable she would be once she touched down. She was armed with a pistol and sixty rounds of 9mm ammunition. Many hours on the range had honed her skills with a handgun to the point that she was confident in her ability to put accurate fire on a target a respectable distance away. The enemy she would be facing here presented a more difficult challenge. They would not seek cover when she started shooting, if anything the sound of her pistol would stir them up even more. They could only be stopped with a
head shot and they would attack in mass. Along with her pistol she had an emergency beacon and handheld RF radio for contacting search and rescue missions. Her priority would be getting free of her chute and immediately seeking a place to hunker down and wait for rescue. Since she would be landing in an urban setting she would need to find an unassuming building that offered her multiple escape routes. There was a good chance that she would be able to locate a source of water and food so that shouldn't end up being a major issue at first. In any other situation she knew that a search and rescue flight would be dispatched as soon as the carrier was aware of a plane in trouble. That would not be the case this time. Before any rescue was cleared to come after her the powers that be would have to be assured that the threat of infection for any crew on the ground was taken out of the picture. Everyone who volunteered to join this expedition knew that there was no margin for error when it came to this virus. If there was even the smallest chance of the infection reaching the rest of the crew or spreading back to Cuba, the life of one pilot was not worth the gamble.

The ejection had gone completely by the numbers. She though
t she knew what to expect after going through many simulations involving ejections. The rush of the wind and the stinging rain from the storm added an additional element that had taken her by surprise. For the first minute that she was in the air outside of the plane she had no clue which way was up and which was down. The darkness inside the heart of the storm was so complete that it was totally disorienting. Gravity finally took over allowing her to discern her alignment. Dropping below the storm cloud she was finally able to make out details on the ground. She was grateful to notice that the storm had started letting up. Her chute allowed her to make course corrections along the way and being able to see what was underneath her would help her decide if she needed to make any last minute emergency corrections. Several seconds after her chute deployed she detected the sound of a jet engine spooling up to full power. She was unable to see the fighter but she knew that Crusher had hung around until he was sure that her ejection had been successful. Seeing her chute open was the last thing he had been waiting for before punching it for home and rallying their leadership to dispatch the SAR chopper for her as soon as possible.

Focusing on the ground be
low her, she picked out a likely landing spot that seemed free of obstacles and more importantly of any signs of nearby life. A fenced in parking lot behind a multistory office building was one of the few clear areas in range. Three cars were parked up close to the building but the rest of the lot was wide open. She made several minor corrections as she approached the top of the office building and moved herself clear of the structure itself. The roof would have probably been the safer place to land but she had no idea what the conditions were like inside the building and she could end up cornered very quickly.

Hitting the ground, she allowed her body to fall sideways and dissipate the force of the impact. She gave herself credit for not breaking any bones and being able to walk away from the ejection and landing without any noticeable injuries. As soon as she released her chute and shrugged the pack over her shoulders she slipped her pistol from is holster and chambered the first round. While in the air the thinning of the storm had been a benefit to her, now she was finding it a liability with the increased visibility making her feel all that more exposed. Keeping her profile as low to the ground as possible she rushed across the length of the parking lot until she was between two of the company cars left in place outside of
the loading dock at the back of the building. From the logos on the sides of the car she determined that this was some kind of computer networking support business. Considering the type of business she now felt that the office building might end up making a reasonable refuge after all. The parking lot where she had come down was completely enclosed with a fence and there was more than enough room for a rescue helicopter to set down.

Studying the streets around her she couldn't spot any obvious threats nearby and turned her attention
back to the building. She was standing just below a raised loading dock with a large cargo entrance next to a regular sized personnel doorway. Both were closed and showed no signs of having been tampered with. Moving cautiously she climbed the stairs to the concrete dock and then moved across the open space to the personnel door. Reaching out and testing the handle she was surprised to find the door unlocked. She pulled on the door just enough to open it a crack and let her see inside. Satisfied that the hallway beyond the door was empty, she pulled the door open just enough for her to step inside and then pulled the door closed behind her and locked it.

Taking a minute to adjust to the dim lighting she studied her surroundings. The hallway extended the length of the building with doors on each side. She was pretty sure the majority of doors on her left entered the warehouse section of this floor that was serviced by the loading dock. She could not see any advantage in entering such a wide open area with many places
danger could be hiding. That left her with six doors on the other side of the hallway. The first door was locked, a sign above it identified it as a utility and mechanical room. The next door was labeled as the employee break room and was unlocked. Easing the door open she surveyed the room from the hallway for several seconds before stepping inside. Inside the room she saw several booth style tables arranged in the middle of the room with various vending machines positioned along the wall. The corner of the room directly across from the door had a bar with six chairs situated around it, a cappuccino machine, coffee maker and several other beverage conveniences were neatly arranged on the top of the bar along with cups, napkins and containers of sugar and accessories. Six windows arranged high on the far wall of the room allowed for a little better lighting than in the hallway but still left large parts of the room bathed in shadows. Sweeping her pistol from side to side she carefully moved from one shadow to the next until she was satisfied that the room was empty.

Plopping down in a booth she activated her emergency beacon and set it on the table next to her RF radio and pistol she then settled in to wait for a rescue that she hoped was not long in coming.

Doug wasted no time getting prepared to open Kyle up. Kimberly was drafted into service as his aid for the surgery, while Cameron was positioned in front of the monitors keeping track of Kyle's vital signs. Doug showed Cameron what he needed to look for and wrote down the high and low levels that Kyle's vitals needed to stay between. If any of those signs dipped outside of the ranges Doug gave him, Cameron was to call out the exact monitor and the numbers it indicated.

Miranda was
stationed outside the door of the surgical room just behind a nurse’s station. From that location she had a good view of the hallways leading off in three different directions. She knew that the hall behind her with the elevator was already clear of any danger. The other two branches of the hallway on that floor were a different story. Both corridors were blocked by security doors and those doors were the only thing between them and a horde of zombies on the other side. Miranda had stressed to everyone how important it was to keep as quiet as possible. For the time being the thick rubber stopper in between the doors and along the floor underneath them would help to keep the smells of humans from reaching the zombies on the other side. Miranda had found some thick tape and petroleum jelly that she used to cover the bullet holes in the hope that would also cut down on their exposure. There was nothing much left for her to do but sit patiently and wait. Emily had been wheeled into the prep room next to the operating room and from time to time Miranda would stick her head in there and check on her. The last time she had looked in on her she had been out cold. Doug had given her some pain medication and a mild sedative. Miranda had to admit that she felt sorry for the woman. As big of a useless bitch as she was, she was still a human being. Miranda would never wish the fate that awaited her on even her most hated enemy, if she had one. The pain of the wound itself was bad, she had helped Doug dress it a little better before he had moved into surgery with Kyle. The bite was deep, passing through several layers of fat into the breast and surrounding chest tissue. The pain could be controlled with medications, what couldn't be controlled was the deadly infection that bite had released into Emily's blood stream. Doug thought that the sedatives would help slow the spread of the infection. By keeping her calm her blood pressure would stay low and not provide the virus with a speedy path through her system. But all of them knew that all that was really doing was postponing the inevitable. Miranda had seen the look in Garrett's eyes right after Emily had been attacked. She had seen his fingers twitching near the trigger of his rifle and knew what was going through his mind at that point. Putting a bullet in Emily's head right there and then would have been the most merciful way of ending her suffering. But it would have also created a rift within the group. There was no telling how Doug would have reacted to seeing his wife's head blown off right in front of him. He may have understood the necessity of that action but could have easily turned the pain and hurt he was feeling into anger and rage towards Garrett and the rest of them. It came down to the simple fact that it was more important they all continued to work together than the need to quickly end Emily's suffering. When the time came to finally put her down for good, Doug would have had enough time to come to terms with and accept that fate. Doug's full attention was needed to help Kyle pull through or they would be stacking his dead body right along with Emily's in the next few hours.

The surgery had been going on for just under two hours when Doug finally stepped out of the room and began pulling off his blood soaked hospital gown and mask. Miranda always thought it disconcerting how doctors were able to keep their faces clenched in a mask of neutrality when it came time
to deliver news on the status of a patient. She always thought that she would never want to face a doctor from across a poker table, there was just no way of reading them accurately. She waited patiently while Doug discarded his blood stained garments and pulled off his surgical gloves for him to deliver the news. She worked hard to choke back the fear that after battling their way to get Kyle to the hospital with Doug's own wife suffering a traumatic injury along the way that they would end up losing him on the operating table.

"Everything went just fine." Doug finally said as a smile crept across his face. It seemed to Miranda that the little bastard may have actually been milking the moment just to hit her with the big news. In any other situation she would have probably slapped him across his face for making her squirm like that. But with his wife laying on a gurney in the next room clinging to the last hours of her life, she decided to allow him that single moment of pride and gloating for a job well done.

"I did have to remove the kidney unfortunately. It was damaged beyond my ability to repair. A surgical doctor probably could have saved it, but I just didn't want to take the risk that I would miss something and he would continue to hemorrhage internally."

Miranda couldn't help herself from running up to the little man and wrapping him in a firm hug that
noticeably took him by surprise. They had all sacrificed and lost so much that this one solitary victory was something she found that she really needed to restore her sense of hope.

Breaking free from the embrace, Miranda stepped around Doug and peeked into the room behind him. Kyle was still on the operating table unconscious and covered in a fresh blanket. Kimberly was standing at the sink at the far end of the room washing her hands while Cameron was still sitting in his assigned seat continuing to monitor Kyle's vital signs. Seeing Miranda's questioning look Doug answered the question for her, "He is still under the effects of anesthesia,
it’s important we monitor his vitals until he wakes on his own. From there he will need to continue getting as much rest as possible and avoiding any strenuous activities for several days."

The unfortunate reality of their situation was that there was no way they could simply stay put and let Kyle rest for several days. The other wings of the hospital were infested with undead and it wasn't goi
ng to take them long to realize that a tempting meal was waiting on the other side of the hallway doors. They had not discussed their next move after getting Kyle through the surgery. But there was no way they could remain where they were for much longer. She really wished Garrett were there to come up with options for them.

"As soon as he wakes up from the anesthesia we need to be ready to move him. This wing is still not secure and there is no way we can defend it if they get past those doors." Miranda informed Doug as she gestured towards the doors only a short distance down the hall from them.

A thoughtful look came over Doug's face and he searched for the words he wanted to say next. "Miranda. There is one more procedure I need to perform in this operating room. Doug will probably not come around for at least another hour and what I need to do may take a little longer than that."

Miranda was about to ask for an explanation but when she saw the desperate look in his eyes and taking into consideration how he had just saved Kyle's life she figured the man was allowe
d a certain degree of latitude.

#

Garrett and Shellie reached the back of the office building where the pilot had come down only to find the gate to the parking lot securely locked. The parachute draped over the fence still attached to a discarded harness that had been pulled up against the inside of the fence told them they were definitely in the right location. Since the pilots harness was still inside the fence and with the gate shut and locked, Garrett was pretty sure that the pilot must have sought refuge inside the building and not attempted to venture further into the city. They had only spotted a few small pockets of zombies along the way to the building. This section of town seemed to be less infested than some of the others they had seen before. Garrett thought it was due to the commercial nature of that area, most businesses would not have been open when the outbreak hit the height of its intensity. The zombies they were seeing had probably been refugees attempting to flee population centers and became stuck behind the impassible wall of traffic clogging all the major routes leading out of town. The pilot must have set down inside the fence and realized they had found a safe enough place to wait for rescue. The fence was topped with three inter-spaced rows of rusted barbed wire. Climbing the fence would probably be easy enough for both of them, but if either of them became caught up in the wire or even cut by the rusty barbs, it could turn a simple task into a much larger problem. Circling around the building and finding a way inside from the front would be just as productive in searching for the pilot and might also give them a better perspective on any surprises that could be waiting for them inside.

Working their way around the parking lot they moved up along
to the side of the building and silently slid around towards the front. When Garrett reached the corner at the front of the building he realized their luck had run its course. The street in front of the building was full of zombies, Garrett was sure that their numbers reached close to a thousand or more, stretching the length of the block in front of them down to the next major intersection and out of his line of sight. It was also easy to understand why there were so many in that one location. A major highway passed directly through town at that point with the on and off ramps connecting just beyond the next intersection. From their position at the side of the building they could see lanes heading in both directions clogged with hundreds of vehicles all heading away from Washington, DC only a little more than thirty minutes further down the road. The people who had been caught up in that traffic must have wondered down the off ramp and ended up concentrated up and down the street in front of the office building. The pilot would not have been able to see the street in front of the building during his approach from the back. The building itself as well as rows of trees and other tall buildings formed a partial dome over the street that would have kept street view hidden from above. It was likely the pilot had absolutely no idea they had landed right next to one of the largest concentrations of zombies that Garrett and Shellie had ever seen.

From the corner of the building they were shielded from the street enough for Garrett to get a good look at the front of the office building. A decorative concrete walkway led from the street directly in front of the building to a point where it connected with a similar walkway leading to a smaller parking lot on the opposite side. At the point where the sidewalks connected there was an open
patio area that had been constructed to resemble a small park. Benches and concrete planters with flowers and bushes were spread about to provide several segregate areas where employees and visitors could sit outside and conduct business or enjoy a lunch break in nice weather. The front entrance to the building was set back into a cutout that framed two sets of double doors set apart with a small pond filled with water lilies and ceramic decorations. The front of the building surrounding the doors was constructed of glass that stretched from knee height up to ceiling level of the second floor. One entire twenty foot section of the glass wall was completely shattered from the outside. Garrett could see at least three figures moving inside the lobby of the building just beyond an oval shaped information and reception station.

Garrett knew that if the pilot was still alive it was a good bet he had found a safe place n
ot far from the loading dock and hunkered down to await rescue. It was unlikely he would have attempted to wonder far into the building on his own and was probably unaware that zombies were already inside and massed in large number nearby. The zombies inside the building appeared to be concentrated on the side of the lobby furthest from where they were hiding. To get inside and make their way to the loading dock area they should be able to move down the hallway on the far side of them.

Adjusting his rifle across the middle of this back, Garrett drew the pistol he recovered from the dead father
in the jeep back in the park. The 9mm was not silenced but inside the building it should be muffled enough not to be hear outside, the AK did not offer the same subtleties when it was fired. In whispered conversation he explained to Shellie how he wanted her to move and where they would be going as soon as they entered the building. Shellie tried her best to put on the bravest face possible but Garrett could see the fear in her eyes. Sometimes Garrett forgot that he was dealing with a group of untrained civilians whose only experience with combat was what they saw in the movies. It was important that he remember that the people now watching his back were nothing more than terrified civilians stepping so far out of their comfort zone that they were was only a paper thin line separating their bravery from a complete breakdown. Even Miranda would be approaching the point where she would not be able to continue facing these situations at the drop of a hat like she had. He had been taking their overall will to survive for granted lately. It wasn't enough that they just continue to live from one fight to the next, there had to be some hope for salvation that made it all worthwhile.

Garrett grasped her gently by the hand and looked into her eyes, "If it makes you feel any better, I'm scared too."

She wiped her hand across her eyes and turned away from him so he wouldn't see the tears starting to flow.

"I just don't know how much more of this I can take." She was shaking at that point and Garrett was starting to fear that she was on the verge of a breakdown that would paralyze her against moving forward.