Part 21 (2/2)
As the shots pierced the loud drone of the chopper's engines, the zombies turned to the helicopter. Several broke away from the cl.u.s.ter around Kathryn and shuffled to the landing pad. From the hanger, a dozen or more zombies emerged, some in business suits and dresses. It was like a hornet's nest had been whacked with a stick.
David eased the helicopter into the air.
”We can't just leave her!” Shaun yelled.
Dejah put a hand on Shaun's arm. He knew if David was leaving Kathryn behind, there was no hope for her rescue. He just didn't want to believe it. Shaun slammed the door closed, locked it, and strapped himself into his seat. ”Can we shoot from the air?”
He looked below, over the scrambling crowd of zombies, where Kathryn's body lay face down on the pavement. She wasn't moving.
A thump sounded from the pilot's side of the chopper. Dejah screamed.
Hanging on the side of the helicopter was a gore-crusted Sickie, his face smashed against the gla.s.s, black mouth fogging it with wretched breath.
David tilted the bird a hard left. The zombie lost his hold and tumbled to the pavement below like a sock-doll dropped from a balcony. Shaun tried to spot Kathryn beneath the growing horde of zombies. The mob grew thicker, and the helicopter put more distance between them and the ground. And then they were away.
Everyone rode in silence, listening to the din of the wind through the rotor blades. Dejah leaned back in her seat, breathing heavily into her microphone, eyes closed.
”We should've done something,” Shaun muttered.
”Nothing we could've done, pal. There were just too d.a.m.n many of them.” Over the speakers in their helmets, they heard his deep sigh, laden with regret.
Shaun looked back at Dejah and she gave him a sad smile. They didn't even get to meet each other, he thought.
David piloted the copter east into Hunt County.
CHAPTER 32.
Dr. Josh Gutierrez buried his face in his hands, and then, in a complete and utter loss of control, dropped his head to the metal desk in anger. He yelled at the top of his lungs, raising his head, and slamming a fist into the desktop. ”Does Robbins not get the severity of this situation?”
Nurse Doris Ford sat opposite the desk on a folding chair, rigid now after his outburst, a duffle bag on her lap. She was leaving. ”Josh, it sounds to me like Dr. Robbins is doing everything he can to help control this situation. He's only one man.”
”And so am I! I've got raging lunatics strapped to cots and fence posts just to keep them from killing each other. I've got tents full of healthy people that won't go home because they don't want to leave infected family members behind. I'm down to three staff members - two after you leave. This is a nightmare.”
”You should leave.”
”I can't. I took an oath. I have to stay.”
”Bulls.h.i.+t. Your oath didn't account for flesh eating zombies. Just leave.” Doris's blunt language startled Josh. She stood and turned toward the door, but faced him again. ”Leave, Josh. Tell the healthy people to get out, let the Army and police go, and leave.”
”And leave these ... people ... these infected ... to their own devices?”
”Yes.”
Josh shook his head, exhaustion worn deep into the lines of his face. ”Be careful, Doris, and take care of yourself out there.”
”I'll say a prayer for you, Dr. Gutierrez.”
”We'll need more than prayers out here, Doris, but thanks all the same.” Josh stood and walked Doris to the door of the trailer serving as the clinic office. ”Goodbye.”
”Goodbye.” Doris walked down the metal stairs and into a police car heading into town. She waved to him from the pa.s.senger window, her face a vision of worry.
Josh sighed, and sunk his hands into the deep pockets of his scrubs, watching the squad car drive over the tree-framed dirt road, and then turn onto the county road. He looked around the quarantine camp. Maybe he should leave.
His phone rang, vibrating against his chest. He slid it from his pocket, opening it. ”Gutierrez.”
”Josh. It's Matt. Bad news.”
Josh laughed hard. ”Well, I didn't expect f.u.c.king Disney.”
”Sorry to have to tell you this, but there are no sedatives left near your location after we had so many s.h.i.+pped directly there. I've scrounged and begged at every pharmacy, clinic, and doctor's office, and I've got a small case of clonazepam that would work great for your worst patients if only I could get it to you.”
Silence.
”Josh?”
”I'm here.”
”I thought I lost the call again,” Dr. Robbins said.
”Nope. Still here. For the time being. I'll probably be dead by morning.”
”Now, don't talk like that. You've got the infected people restrained, right? That should hold'em for the time being.”
”The time being? You said that days ago,” Josh said, frustration evident in his voice. ”Doris left a few minutes ago.”
”Who've you got left?” Dr. Robbins sounded dismayed.
”Me and two orderlies. Handful of Army and police. The patients' families are handling most of the duties now.”
”That's all?”
”I should leave, too. It's suicide to stay much longer. The infected are getting more agitated. There's no food. There are no meds. Unless you can get some sort of serum out here soon, I'm certain everyone here is doomed. I'm telling all healthy people to stay at their own peril. I don't think I'm doing a good enough job of terrifying the s.h.i.+t out of them yet.”
”If you really don't see any possible way around the situation, Josh, you should take as many who will listen and go,” Dr. Robbins said.
”Thinking about it. Seriously, Robbins. I need to talk with the families one more time and convince them to leave. After that, I'm throwing in the towel. I'm probably in the next car out.”
”Okay, listen. I've been going back and forth with the research lab long-distance, and we're getting close to a serum that works as an antidote for the toxin and induces antibodies to fight the virus. I've been testing it on willing and-” he cleared his throat, ”not so willing partic.i.p.ants. I'll give you a call when I can. As soon as it's ready, I'll get it to you if I have to bring it out to you myself. But if you've got to get out of there, Josh, then go.” Robbins terminated the call.
Getting close isn't good enough; not for these people. Not now, Josh thought, staring at his phone. He returned it to his pocket, and went inside.
Nine-year-old Selah Corliss crept through the narrow pa.s.sages behind the big tan Army tents along the dirt path in the infected quarter. She slowly lifted one of the tents from its bottom edge and peered inside. A man lay on a cot, straps buckled around his chest and thighs. Once she'd watched an old Frankenstein movie with her dad. The image of the man now before her, shackled, reminded her of the monster. Although this man looked human, there still seemed to be something wrong with him at first glance. Not just the sickness, either. Darkness gathered around him in the waning light of day, as if something unseen cast its shadow over him. There was a musty smell, of something rotting. The man's skin was dark tan but had gone sallow in places, hair black, his eyes two pools of deep shadow. He was staring at the ceiling of the tent, mumbling words in another language that she couldn't understand.
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