Dead, but Not for Long (44 page)

“I hope he’ll pull through,” she said, meaning it.

“I hope so, too,” Snake said. “He almost died a
few months back and since that time he told me that he felt that every day was
extra, if you know what I mean. Still, I’d like to see him have some more of those extra days.”

Lindsey thought about their walk up the stairs and
she said, “It’s probably a heart attack, like you guessed, but really, it wouldn’t
take much to get infected, would it?”

“No, I’ve been thinking about it and we
probably need to take a few more precautions. We always clean our weapons with
bleach after we use them so we don’t accidentally infect ourselves or someone
else, but what about our bodies? We get covered with blood and gore when we’re
fighting the dead. Think about it, Lindsey. What if you scratched your hand
then got infected blood on the wound? Even scraping a knuckle could be deadly
if this disease is as bad as we think it is.”

“That thought crossed my mind earlier, in the
office building,” she said, finally telling him about her encounter with the
large zombie. “I had to try to hold him back with my hand and I got this slimy
green stuff all over it. If I’d had so much as a hangnail, it could have become
infected. As it is, I’m going to be sweating it for a while until I know I’m all right.”

Snake glanced over at her and shook his head. “I’m
sorry that happened. I should have never let you go in there.”

“It’s fine. I guess we’re all learning how to
survive in the new world and it’s going to take some trial and error.”

“Only thing is, our mistakes could kill us,” Snake
said. “I’ll bet you’re thinking that being Doune’s helper isn’t so bad after all.”

“Are you kidding?” she said. “I love this. I mean,
I’d rather not be in the situation where we’re fighting for our lives all the
time, but the action is so much better than working in that lab. I want to
learn to fight better, so I don’t get myself in trouble again and I want to
practice more with my weapons.”

“Does that mean you’re sticking around?” Snake asked.

Lindsey hesitated, having completely forgotten about the decision she had to make.

“I don’t even know,” she admitted. “I’ve hardly
had time to think about it. Guess I’d better decide pretty quickly.”

Snake nodded, not wanting to push her. “I want to
talk to Doune when we get back. He might have some thoughts on things we can do
to stay safer out here, since he’s been dealing with contaminated blood and
flesh. I’m going to look into finding gloves for everybody, too. And no more exposed arms.”

“Good idea,” Lindsey said. “We need to do everything
we can to minimize exposure. It’s dangerous enough just being out here. There’s
no point in taking unnecessary risks.”

They both grew quiet for a while as Snake worked
to dodge the dead. When the truck had left the hospital, it had
been followed and now that the group was heading back the same way, there was a
mass of undead coming toward them. Normally the bikes had little trouble
working their way through a crowd of the infected, but this swarm was packed
tightly enough that the riders were in danger of being pulled off their bikes.
Snake honked, pointing toward a road that went west. He knew they didn’t have
time for a detour, but if they kept moving through the oncoming horde, it wasn’t
going to end well. The bikes peeled off to the left, taking the turn with the truck following.

“Let’s just hope we don’t lead them all right back
to the hospital,” Snake said.

The sound of gunshots filled the air as the
shooters on top of the truck did their best to keep the numbers down, but it
was starting to look like a losing battle. The side street was nowhere near as
crowded as the other road had been, but there were still far too many of the
undead for Snake’s liking. As if that wasn’t enough, there were fires raging
only a few blocks away and many of the streets were filled with smoke, making
visibility difficult. When Snake hit a pile of bodies that he hadn’t been able
to see, the truck jolted to the side, dislodging one of the men on top.

The biker, a big man called Bull, dropped his
rifle and grabbed the chain with both hands as he started to slide over the
side of the truck. The momentum of his falling body pulled the last length of the chain free.
The force was also enough to pull both of his arms from the sockets, causing him to yell in pain.
One of the other bikers was also pulled partway off before he let go of the chain and scooted back away from the edge.

Wombat looked over the edge and was relieved to see that Bull still clung to the chain,
though the big biker was frantically trying to work his way back up.
Reaching over to grab the back of Bull’s jacket, Wombat threaded his left arm under the next length of chain and prayed that it would hold them both.

“Come on!” Wombat yelled down. “Get up here!”

Snake glanced at his mirror and saw the biker
hanging from the side of the truck and slowed down. The minute he did it, the
infected moved in. Snake quickly switched from the brake to the gas, realizing
that the only way to keep Bull from being pulled down was to keep the vehicle
moving faster than the dead could walk.

“Messed up my arms,” Bull hissed as he gritted his
teeth and fought to climb back onto the truck. He kicked at the undead that
tried to grab his legs. “Think I pulled them both out of the socket when I went over.”

“Need some help!” Wombat yelled, noting that he
was starting to lose his grip on the other man’s leather jacket.

Two of the others hurried over and looked over the side.

“Holy shi . . .” one said, reaching down to help Wombat pull.
They realized that the big biker’s coat was caught on the chain, which might have saved his life.

Bull suddenly yelled in pain as one of the dead got a grip on his leg and wouldn’t let go.
The extra weight of the zombie was putting strain on his already injured arms.

Wombat looked at the bolt that was holding the
next length of chain in place and saw that the metal was buckling and creating
a hole around the bolt that could pull through at any moment.

“On three,” he yelled.

Bull nodded and swung his leg hard against the
side of the truck as Wombat started to count. The ghoul was knocked loose on
the next swing and on three, the bikers pulled hard. Bull set his feet against
the truck and climbed up with some help, finally managing to get to the top of
the truck. He groaned in pain over the abuse his arms had taken but he was glad
to be alive. He was also glad to see that one of the others had managed to grab
his rifle before it could follow him over the side.

The trip back to the hospital would have taken an
average of ten minutes in the old days, but those days were long gone. Every
side street they tried to take was choked with cars and they ended up going
farther and farther out of their way. By the time they circled back to the road
they wanted, almost half an hour had passed.

Snake was finally able to increase his speed since
they’d already cleared most of the vehicles from that section of the road. They
were just beginning to put some distance between themselves and the undead
behind them when they suddenly came across another mass of dead that was
blocking much of the street. The sun peeking through the clouds made it more obvious how dire their situation was.

“Just when you think you’re home free,” Lindsey
said, heart pounding as she once again wondered if they would make it back alive.

“I’m not having a good feeling about this,” Snake said, trying to stay focused.

Through the noise of the bikes and the zombies, a new sound reached their ears.

“Oh, crap,” Snake said.

“What is it?” Lindsey asked, craning her head to
find the source of the noise. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

The early morning sky was cloudy but it wasn’t
long before they could see the jets that were racing their way through the gaps of blue.

“I’d like to tell you that, but I’m afraid I can’t,”
Snake said, debating on what to do. “I think our time has just run out.”

When the jets raced overhead, several of the
bikers looked up. Others didn’t dare because they were too busy dodging the
growing throng of infected around them. When the first of the jets dropped its
payload somewhere behind the group, it was far too close for Snake’s liking.
The street around them shook with the concussion and some of the bikers
struggled to keep their bikes upright.

Risking a glance in his rear-view mirror, Snake watched as a building collapsed behind them, sending a cloud of
smoke and dust into the air. As most of the jets continued to fly south,
another group could be seen approaching in the sky. Snake flinched as he
watched a building on the north side of the hospital disappear from view. He
hoped it was farther away than it looked. He squinted as dust and smoke began
to blow their way, making it difficult to see. It was going to take a miracle to get them home.

~*~

“Hang on there, buddy,” Wolf said to Smiley as
they went over a bad bump. The big biker groaned and tried to sit up.

“I think you should lay down,” Wolf told him.

“Killing my back,” Smiley managed to say.

“Didn’t think of that,” Wolf said, helping him
into a sitting position. “You doing all right?”

“I’ve been better.”

He fumbled in a pocket for his bottle of
Nitroglycerine tablets.

“I already gave you one of those,” Wolf told him. “I
followed the directions on the bottle and put it under your tongue.”

“Thanks,” Smiley said, putting the bottle away.

“We’re almost home and from what I hear, that
Chinese doctor is a heart specialist and he’s very good,” Wolf said.

“Good to hear,” Smiley said, closing his eyes as
he leaned back against the wall of the truck.

~*~

At the hospital, the parking lot had been cleared
of the walking dead and the bodies had been dragged outside the gate. Several
people held a vigil in the Crow’s Nest, hoping and praying for the safety of
the rest of their group while they watched for some sign of them.

Helga joined them once she woke and heard what was going on. She offered to go after Snake
but the others assured her that there was nothing that any of them could do at the moment.

Many of the other residents had gathered in the cafeteria and the ER, their meager belongings packed and ready for the arrival
of the Coast Guard helicopters. The tension in the building was thick as everybody waited.

~*~

The hospital was finally within sight. Snake could
see the roof just a couple blocks away.

“Almost there,” he said.

The street in front of them suddenly
disintegrated, along with a building off to the right. Snake worked hard to
bring the truck to a stop without throwing anybody else off the top. When the
dust cleared a bit, he could see that the bikes had managed to turn onto
another side street and avoid the gaping hole in the road. Snake followed. They
had to circle around the hospital and come at it from the back of the building.
When they rounded the last corner, Lindsey gasped. The street was almost filled
with the dead, with little room to move among them. The bikes would never get
through and those inside the hospital probably didn’t even realize there was a
problem, since it was all happening on the other side of the building.

Then they got lucky.

The zombies stopped and began to look up toward
the sky, searching for the source of the noise as another group of jets raced by.

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the
bikers rushed quickly through the crowd, the truck close behind.

When the next bunch of bombs fell, Lindsey thought
that it was the end for them. The truck shook and debris hit the windshield,
cracking it. She heard yells from the men on top of the truck, though they were
quickly drowned out by the sound of car alarms and the screams of the jets. In
front of them, the dust was so thick that they could barely see past the hood
of the truck. Snake edged the vehicle along, hoping they wouldn’t end up in one
of the giant craters. They turned another corner and suddenly the dust cleared,
revealing the gate. Within moments, it was opened and they were all inside.

“We’re home!” Lindsey said, grinning broadly as Snake
brought the truck to a stop.

~*^*~

A cheer rose up in the Crow’s Nest when the bikers
returned. The bikes were left in the parking lot, since the gate was
functioning and there was no danger of the dead knocking them over. Smiley was
quickly taken up to the fifth floor where Dr. Chan took over and chased the
others out of the room. Snake didn’t want to leave, but he respected the
doctor’s wishes and went to the Crow’s Nest, since he needed to talk to his
men.

“We need to find another place to hide the
weapons, now that we’ve brought the truck into the parking lot,” he told them.

“Can we just take it back out?” Mouse asked.

Snake looked out the window and said, “It’s pretty
clear on this side of the building right now, but we just drove through hundreds of the dead on
the other side and I’m afraid they may wander over. If you want
to take the truck out to the street, do it fast and get back here before they notice
you. If it looks like you’re going to have problems, forget it. And don’t worry
about staging an accident again. There’s no time for that.”

Snake would have done it himself, but he was anxious to check on Smiley.

“Can you guys handle it all right?”

“No problem,” Mouse said.

Snake went back to Smiley’s room. He waited outside
but kept peeking in while Keith and Dr. Chan tended to their patient.

“How’s he doing, Doc?” the biker asked.

“He’s doing all right,” Dr. Chan said. He jotted
down a few notes and motioned for Snake to join him in the hallway while Keith
took the man’s vitals.