Desolate: The Complete Trilogy Part 11

There was no sign of the girl so I decided to try to find a way into the clinic. I walked down the sidewalk, looking for any other possible access. If anybody besides the girl and the b.u.m were alive in this town, I figured there would be a good chance they were inside.

In the alley behind the building, a cinderblock wall about ten feet tall formed a little courtyard. It smelled awful back there but I continued forward. At the far end, the rear half of a pickup truck stuck out of a crumbled section of the wall. I climbed into the bed of the truck, planning on jumping into the courtyard, when I froze.

The entire yard was full of bodies.

Near the back door, body bags were stacked three or four high. The clinic must have run out of bags quickly, and I doubt they had much of a supply to begin with. The rest of the bodies rotted out in the sun and the elements. The sea of flies was so thick it practically looked like a storm cloud. The farther the bodies were from the door, the less organized the piles became.

Speaking of piles, the truck was in the middle of a doozy. When it smashed through the wall, it drove right through a sea of corpses before stopping. The mangled mess of bones and guts and gray matter under the wheels made the scene that much more gruesome. If that wasn't enough, I peered into the cab of the truck and spotted what was left of the driver. Apparently, he lost hope when he saw what was left of the hospital. The interior of the truck was painted with the contents of his head-thanks to the handgun on the seat. I considering grabbing the gun for a second before the smell got to me and I gagged. I stumbled out of the back of the truck while dry heaving. The air was a little better outside of the walls and I got myself together.

Before I jumped off the truck, I noticed the loading dock door was up a few feet. Judging by the large pile of corpses below it, the hospital staff eventually resorted to simply tossing them off the dock. If the regular door was locked, at least I knew I'd be able to get in that way. The question was, did I still want to go in?

It was obvious by now the entire town was lost. Sure, there was the girl and the homeless guy, and probably a few others around town who were immune like me, but I doubt if they'd be able to help me. They were probably in no better shape than I was. There didn't appear to be any electricity in town and no authority still standing. I could commandeer one of the cars sitting around, but would it be better anyplace else? This was only one small town. I could only imagine what the bigger cities must be like.

Still, somebody had locked the clinic doors from the inside when things went to s.h.i.+t. I felt like I had to find out if there were any survivors inside.

There was a small yard off the alley with some laundry hanging on a clothes line. I grabbed a towel and tied it around my head to cover my nose and mouth. It didn't kill the stench completely, but it was better than nothing. I returned to the truck, climbed over, and dropped into the courtyard.

I slowly weaved through the sea of death, careful not to trip and end up face-to-face with one of the bodies. I finally reached the back door after what seemed like hours. Locked. The door was solid metal and secured with a dead bolt.

I looked over at the loading dock. It was about three or four feet off the ground. In order to get up there, I would literally have to climb up the pile of bodies below it. Before I had a chance to lose my nerve, I headed that way.

As I got closer to the dock, the ground disappeared and I couldn't help but walk on the dead. Gla.s.sy eyes stared at me as I carefully stepped on bloated flesh. Flies buzzed around my face. I kept waiting for a hand to reach out and grab my ankle. A survivor among the dead. Lying there. Ready to drag me down. I felt my sanity slipping away with each step.

Climbing up to the loading dock wasn't as difficult as I feared. A mad dash up the pile of bodies and I was there. I slipped under the door and into the dark clinic.

I ripped the towel off my face and used it to clean my hands as best I could. Once or twice I lost my balance out there and had to break my fall with my hands. I may be immune to the infection that killed everybody, but who knows what other germs were cooking up out there? I wanted to rip off my clothes and shower in scalding hot water. But that would have to wait.

The only door to the receiving area led to a hallway barely lit by emergency lighting. I moved slowly down the hall, waiting for my eyes to adjust in the low light. The air in the clinic was thick and I was dripping with sweat. What I wouldn't give for some air conditioning and an iced tea.

I pa.s.sed exam rooms and triage stations with overflowing garbage cans and puddles of dried blood and vomit on the floor. The poor people who worked there had been busy right up to the end. My hopes of finding survivors were quickly fading. This place was dead like every other building in town. Still, it was secure, and at the very least I would have a safe place to spend the night.

After exploring most of the first floor, I headed upstairs and discovered twenty or so patient rooms. At least half of the rooms had bodies in them. These were probably some of the first victims to get sick before all h.e.l.l broke loose. I shut their doors and looked for a clean one I could perhaps sleep in for the night.

While I was looking for a room, I came across a door marked Nutrition. It was a small kitchenette with a refrigerator and a coffee station. The fridge was loaded with water, soda, juices, and soft foods like gelatin, yogurt, and pudding. The bottom shelf held a few sandwiches wrapped in plastic and labeled with marker-ham, turk, chz. I picked up one of the cans of cola and it was still cold, despite the fridge's lack of power. The building probably had a generator that recently gave out long after the city power died. I popped open the can and took a healthy sip.

The cabinets held a bountiful supply of crackers, granola bars, instant soup packets, and other dry snacks. Nothing that would be confused with gourmet dining, but at least I wouldn't starve to death. The scene out in the courtyard killed my appet.i.te for the time being, but I felt better knowing all this food was here. I finished the soda and ripped a satisfying belch that echoed throughout the second floor of the dead hospital. I was just about to place the empty can on the counter when I heard footsteps running down the corridor.

I stuck my head out just in time to see a door closing at the end of the hall.

"Hey!" I shouted. "h.e.l.lo?"

I ran down the hall to the door and entered what appeared to be a large storeroom. The emergency lights flickered and complained with a loud buzzing noise. The door behind me closed and I jumped at the sound.

"Is anybody in here?" I asked. "Don't be afraid, I come in peace."

Come in peace? Really? I couldn't believe I'd just said that. Like I just stepped out of a UFO or something.

I took a few steps and the lights decided that this would be the perfect time to finally die. The buzzing stopped and I was engulfed in total darkness and silence. I b.u.mped into something, lost my balance, and tumbled to the floor along with a shelf filled with boxes. I never considered myself to be a clumsy person before, but this felt like about the hundredth time I'd fallen in the last few days.

As all the c.r.a.p I knocked over settled to the floor, I heard a shuffle from the far end of the room. Somebody else was in there with me. I sat perfectly still, holding my breath and straining my eyes to see anything through the blackness.

"h.e.l.lo?" I said again.

The sound of my own voice, a few octaves higher than normal, sounded weird in the dark. More shuffling from the other side of the room. I pictured one of the dead people from the yard heading my way. Blood-soaked clothing, swollen face, arms outstretched, coming for me. Coming to make me pay for starting all this mess.

The room suddenly filled with light as a door on the far end opened and a form slipped through. As quickly as it had come, the light faded as the door shut and I was surrounded by black again. I scrambled to my feet and ran in that direction, knocking over more shelves and boxes along the way. I held my hands out, frantically looking for the door, and I found the wall. I followed it and finally reached the door.

I entered a room filled with filing cabinets from floor to ceiling. A window let in light from the outside. A broom stood in the corner of the room and I grabbed it. Not much of a weapon against the flesh-eating zombie I was convinced I was about to run into, but it felt good to be holding something. I would sweep it into submission.

Slowly weaving through the maze of files, I turned the corner and found the zombie. She was sitting on the floor in the corner with her knees pulled up to her chest. It was the little girl from the street.

16.

She took another bite from the granola bar, followed by a sip of soda. I sat on the bed with my own drink and she in the chair on the other side of the room. She chewed slowly and never took her eyes off of me.

When the girl realized I had her cornered in the supply room earlier, she jumped to her feet and tried to run past me. I was just barely able to catch her and almost lost my grip as she struggled in my arms. It wasn't easy, but I was finally able to calm her down and convince her I wasn't going to hurt her. Now, sitting in a clean patient room I'd staked out earlier, it was clear she still didn't trust me. I think the peace offering of food helped a little, but she kept glancing at the door, debating whether to make a run for it or not.

The afternoon sun's rays spilled through cracks in the closed window blinds, filling the dusty air with a warm glow. We quietly ate our food and looked at each other. I was polis.h.i.+ng off one of the turk sandwiches. She still hadn't said a word.

"Can you tell me your name?" I tried again. "My name is Howard."

No response.

"Do you know where your mom and dad are?"

It was hard to tell, but I guessed she was around four or five years old. Her skin was very dark, almost completely black, and it made the whites of her big eyes really stand out. They were stunning. I'm talking cover of National Geographic stunning.

"Have you seen any doctors or policemen today?"

She had a couple of braids done up with beads, but otherwise it looked like her hair hadn't seen much grooming lately. She wore a pink T-s.h.i.+rt smeared with dirt and a tattered pair of cutoff shorts. Her feet were bare and her knees were covered in scabs.

"Can you speak English, honey? Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She finished her drink and continued to stare at me, every once in a while sneaking a peek at the door. I held out another granola bar. She brought her knees up to her chin and hugged her legs. I put the bar down.

I chuckled to myself. "Can't say I blame you. I probably look pretty scary, huh? I'm a nice guy, I swear," I held my hand up, Boy Scout-style. "I just need a hot shower and some clean clothes."

I sat back on the bed with my back against the wall and brought my knees up to my chest, like her. My sore muscles protested, but I held my legs in position.

"You sort of remind me of my daughter." I sighed. "She was white, like me, but had big pretty eyes, like yours." I looked out the window between the blinds and the window frame. Bright white, fluffy clouds drifted lazily by. A couple of dogs were barking at something down the street. The long day was catching up with me and my eyelids grew heavy.

"She would have been, let me think...seven years old this December. G.o.d, has it been that long already? Seven," I repeated.

"You know, when your kid gets killed by a drunk driver and you're a bit of a drunk yourself? You'd think that would maybe help get your head straight. Instead of waking me up I just drank more.

"The funny thing is, I was stone-cold sober that day. Gina was nagging at me to take her to the park. I was hung-over from the night before and felt terrible. Sure, I was tempted to tweak my coffee just a bit. Take the edge off, you know? But I didn't."

A single tear traveled down my cheek and rested in the corner of my mouth. I licked my lips and tasted salt. The girl continued to sit and stare. She didn't move a muscle.

"Third-s.h.i.+ft drunk. He started pounding 'em back after work. Probably around seven in the morning. By the time he sailed through that intersection at eleven o'clock his blood-alcohol level was point two three."

I wiped my eyes and laughed. The girl continued to stare.

"Christ, listen to me. You probably don't even understand a word I'm saying. It just feels good to talk to somebody. You don't know how long it's been. h.e.l.l, I don't even know how long it's been. Sorry to be such a downer, kid."

I sniffed and almost missed it. It was barely above a whisper.

"What did you say?" I stammered. "Did you say something?"

"What was her name?" the girl asked.

I smiled. "Her name was Lilly. For some reason, we used to call her Lilly Bean. What's your name?"

"Emily."

"Emily," I repeated. "That's a nice name. I'm Howard."

"I know. You already told me dat."

"I guess I did," I chuckled.

"Why did you call her Lilly Bean? Is dat your last name too?"

"I have no idea, Emily," I said, shaking my head. "It just felt good to say, I guess. My last name is Bell. Somebody once told me that Lilly Bell sounded like a cow's name, but by then it was too late to change it," I said with a smirk.

"Okay," she said and rested her cheek on her knee. As if that was all we needed to talk about.

"Where are your parents, Emily?" She looked at the floor and didn't answer. "Did they get sick like everybody else?"

I slowly got off the bed and crouched down in front of her. She clutched her legs tighter and looked at the window to avoid my gaze.

"You know what? I can tell you're a brave little girl. And I'm sorry for what's happened to you. I'm going to try to find us some help. Okay, Emily?"

She gave me a little nod.

"You and I are special, did you know that? We're not going to get sick like everybody else. I don't want you to be scared about that."

Another nod.

"Did you know that man in the street before? Was he trying to hurt you?"

She suddenly came alert and looked scared. "I didn't do no-ting! It was Jackie who trew de rocks at him. I stayed 'way, just like mummy said."

I held my hands up. "Hey, it's okay. I didn't say you did anything wrong. Who's Jackie?"

"Jackie Ebberdine. I told her. My mum said leave him 'lone 'cause he's mean and scary. But Jackie liked to call him names and run 'way. She's braver dan me 'cause she's nine and a half."

"Oh. Well, don't worry about him. He's not going to hurt you as long as I'm around."

"I went to Jackie's house but it's all locked up and Oscar was inside and wouldn't stop barking."

Her eyes started to tear up. I put my hand on her shoulder but she pulled away.

"Mummy said to go to Jackie's house 'cause she felt bad and didn't make supper and wanted me to ask if I could have a sleepover."

"Do you remember how many days ago that was?"

She shook her head.

"Where did you go after your friend's house?" I asked "I went home and told mummy, but she wouldn't wake up. She made sick on de bed and I didn't know how to clean it up."

The dogs were really going nuts outside with the barking. I stood up and looked through the window blinds but didn't see a thing. I had a good view of most of the street below, but no movement among the cars.

I sat back down on the bed and noticed Emily was eyeing the pile of snacks I laid out on the covers. "Do you want something else?" I asked and she nodded. She climbed up on the bed and tried to open the banana. I helped her peel it and handed it back.

"What happened next?"

She bit into the banana and swung her feet back and forth over the edge of the bed.

"I stayed in my room 'cause I heard lots of yelling and sirens," she said through a mouthful of banana.

"And your mom didn't wake up? n.o.body else lives in your house?"

Emily swallowed and shot me a hostile look. "Mummy wasn't sleeping, she died!"

"You're right, I'm sorry."

I got up and stretched, immediately regretting it, as pain shot through my abdomen. Whatever was going on in there seemed to be getting worse.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked. Her anger was gone, replaced by concern for her new friend.

"Just got a bit of a tummy ache, hon. Nothing to worry about."

"Mummy had a tummy ache."

"Yeah, but this one is different. I'm not sick like your mum."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The pain eased and I sat down. Emily continued eating the banana and started to hum. Now that my belly was finally full of food, I set my sights on getting cleaned up. I got up and tried the faucet but it only sputtered a little and went dry.