hall. Our eyes met. Hers were red from crying over Jeff. She wouldn’t allow anyone to shoot him, and she wouldn’t leave him at the nurse’s station. I’d given her a hand moving him into a small storage room near the end of the main hall. She locked the door from the inside and left him there. Sure, there was a chance he’d awaken in a day or two as a slow burn, like me, but…
“If anyone gets separated from the group, you’re on your own,” Dr. Evans said. “We can’t go back and look for you. We’ll have to presume that you’re dead. Stay together.”
No response from the group. No questions.
We all stood in an awkward moment of silence, readying ourselves to rush into death’s greedy maw.
Dalhover’s gruff voice snapped everyone’s attention forward, not because it carried, but because they were used to listening to it and he was used to their listening. “This ain’t gonna be a pep talk, but soldiers, listen up. I don’t know if any of us will make it out of here, but these civilians volunteered to get infected. They’re probably all immune or they’d be dead down on ten right now. These civilians have a chance. Most of you don’t. Some of you may be immune, but the truth is that most of you will probably be infected and dead by the end of the week. But you know that as well as I do. When we run outta here, I’m not telling you to sacrifice yourself for civilians. I’m just tellin’ you to keep that in mind. If we get in a bad situation, remember why you put on that uniform. Be soldiers.”
Dalhover didn’t waste any time waiting for acceptance, agreement, or even a smile or a nod. He headed for the elevator shafts.
Dr. Evans looked around. He watched Sergeant Dalhover go, then looked at me. “Ready?”
I nodded.
Dr. Evans yelled, “Good luck and God bless! Let’s go!”
Hospital beds, gurneys stacked with computers, patient monitors, chairs, rolling cabinets, anything with wheels or any heavy object that could be piled on top were rolled toward the elevator bank.
Down at the corner by the elevators, Dalhover and I stood out of the way and watched as the soldiers guided each piece of heavy equipment into one each of the four open elevator doors. Each piece bounced down the shaft, making a hell of a noise, scrubbing the climbing infected from the walls, and hitting the bottom with the sound of a grenade explosion.
And more equipment followed.
The sound of automatic gunfire from far around the corner confirmed that the diversion had started. Three of the soldiers stood at the top of the exterior stairwell and fired at the hordes of infected who were either still on top of the garage or below on the west side of the hospital grounds.
If that worked, many of the Whites still outside would be drawn to that side of the hospital to feed on the dead.
A steady flow of beds rounded the corner and quickly disappeared down the shafts.
Fifteen minutes in and the gunfire had stopped. Those soldiers handling the diversion had secured the door and were in the hall on rearguard duty.
A guy by the one of the shafts yelled, “Clear! I think.”
I ran over and stuck my head through the open elevator door. A single bald, white head leaned through the door on the tenth floor, looking up at me. There was no light coming from the bottom of the shaft. It was clogged with a thick tangle of stainless steel, hospital bedding, shattered equipment, and shattered white bodies, at least that’s what I imagined. It was black. On the parts of the walls I could see in the light coming through our open doors, there were no climbers. I hoped that no more would be able to make up through the jumble at the bottom. Only those on ten would be a problem.
It was time to do or die, run or cry. I looked at Sergeant Dalhover and he gave me a nod. The two soldiers that I’d first met guarding the door to the exterior stairwell stood ready, along with a third, to follow me down.
Two deep breaths and I reached into the
“If anyone gets separated from the group, you’re on your own,” Dr. Evans said. “We can’t go back and look for you. We’ll have to presume that you’re dead. Stay together.”
No response from the group. No questions.
We all stood in an awkward moment of silence, readying ourselves to rush into death’s greedy maw.
Dalhover’s gruff voice snapped everyone’s attention forward, not because it carried, but because they were used to listening to it and he was used to their listening. “This ain’t gonna be a pep talk, but soldiers, listen up. I don’t know if any of us will make it out of here, but these civilians volunteered to get infected. They’re probably all immune or they’d be dead down on ten right now. These civilians have a chance. Most of you don’t. Some of you may be immune, but the truth is that most of you will probably be infected and dead by the end of the week. But you know that as well as I do. When we run outta here, I’m not telling you to sacrifice yourself for civilians. I’m just tellin’ you to keep that in mind. If we get in a bad situation, remember why you put on that uniform. Be soldiers.”
Dalhover didn’t waste any time waiting for acceptance, agreement, or even a smile or a nod. He headed for the elevator shafts.
Dr. Evans looked around. He watched Sergeant Dalhover go, then looked at me. “Ready?”
I nodded.
Dr. Evans yelled, “Good luck and God bless! Let’s go!”
Hospital beds, gurneys stacked with computers, patient monitors, chairs, rolling cabinets, anything with wheels or any heavy object that could be piled on top were rolled toward the elevator bank.
Down at the corner by the elevators, Dalhover and I stood out of the way and watched as the soldiers guided each piece of heavy equipment into one each of the four open elevator doors. Each piece bounced down the shaft, making a hell of a noise, scrubbing the climbing infected from the walls, and hitting the bottom with the sound of a grenade explosion.
And more equipment followed.
The sound of automatic gunfire from far around the corner confirmed that the diversion had started. Three of the soldiers stood at the top of the exterior stairwell and fired at the hordes of infected who were either still on top of the garage or below on the west side of the hospital grounds.
If that worked, many of the Whites still outside would be drawn to that side of the hospital to feed on the dead.
A steady flow of beds rounded the corner and quickly disappeared down the shafts.
Fifteen minutes in and the gunfire had stopped. Those soldiers handling the diversion had secured the door and were in the hall on rearguard duty.
A guy by the one of the shafts yelled, “Clear! I think.”
I ran over and stuck my head through the open elevator door. A single bald, white head leaned through the door on the tenth floor, looking up at me. There was no light coming from the bottom of the shaft. It was clogged with a thick tangle of stainless steel, hospital bedding, shattered equipment, and shattered white bodies, at least that’s what I imagined. It was black. On the parts of the walls I could see in the light coming through our open doors, there were no climbers. I hoped that no more would be able to make up through the jumble at the bottom. Only those on ten would be a problem.
It was time to do or die, run or cry. I looked at Sergeant Dalhover and he gave me a nod. The two soldiers that I’d first met guarding the door to the exterior stairwell stood ready, along with a third, to follow me down.
Two deep breaths and I reached into the
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