The ambulance doors flew open, it's rusted chain breaking apart. Patient 101 stumbled out, coughing out the fluids that had been pumped into him. The garage doors were locked tight. The only vehicle was the ambulance he just broke out of. The other door in the cadaverous garage was the staff entrance. Patient 101 searched the dashboard of the ambulance and turned out a staff access card. He tapped it to the scanner and shuffled into the hospital.
He did not know how long he walked, noticed that he saw no one or that there were hints of struggling in several open wards and stains that were not cleaning or medicinal fluids. Patient 101 only knew that he had ended up into the Head of Surgery's office. Unconsciously , he closed the door behind him. The click alerted the delirious patient that something was wrong. He tried the handle and was rewarded by nothing. He looked around the clean office. The shelves were lined with medicinal books, papers and countless awards for 'Best Doctor' and the like. Patient 101 searched Dr. Vincent's desk, his shelves, browsed his open laptop. Nothing. His initial alarm turned to desperation. He repeated his search, ransacking the office. As 101 sank to the pristine floor among the overturned furniture, he heard a click.
The door swung open. Patient 101 ran out of the office and was secretly glad to be in the unsettling hallways of the hospital. However, this time the lights were dark. The only light working was the red light above the operation room. There was a surgery in progress which means there would be someone in this place. Someone with answers.
No one was in the operation room. The shrill tone of the flatline was overwhelming in the silence of the hospital. The other patient was covered entirely by the sheet. Blood stained the sheet, the surgical tools and over the floor. The blood was fresh so noticed by 101 when he slipped by treading on a blood stain. His desperation turned to anxiety. He could not stop his morbid curiosity as to who was under the sheet. Trembling, 101 reached out towards the sheet. Grasping it, he pulled it away, revealing the cold, dead face underneath.
Patient 101's scream echoed throughout the dark, silent hospital.
Sunday 30 June 2013
Tuesday 25 June 2013
Mist
Cedric sat up instantly with gun raised when Leslie poked him. Leslie held up her hands and wearily said, "Truce, Ced. It's your turn." Cedric grunted and motioned Leslie towards the survivors' only tent. Cedric crawled forwards and sat on the forest floor with gun at the ready.
Already he could hear Leslie's gentle breathing underneath Stevie's snoring and Ollie's muttering. Cedric scanned with alert eyes the mist-enshrouded forest in front of him. The small party had camped with a reasonably-sized river behind them so the rotating guard could hear any splash if someone attempted to get across. With the thick mist, even hostile survivors with guns would be hard-pressed to identify the group let even kill them from afar. Cedric, despite having more or less perfect eyesight, could not pierce the veil that nature granted him and the infected.
Cedric breathed in sharply at the thought of the infected. Four months saw the end to civilization after the first outbreak. Those few who did not catch the initial disease succumbed to it's victims, madness and fear. A loner by living and nature, Cedric had no love for outsiders and his own faith in humanity went crashing down during those terrible months. Cedric felt a pang as his thoughts shifted to his neighbors, Mrs. Johnson and her daughter Annie. He got them into his house to keep them safe from the disease and looters. Looters were the least of their worries. The disease got them first. Cedric had been saved by looters of all people from the woman who regularly brought him little cakes and the sweet little girl who he occasionally looked after.
Then the looters turned on him.
Through rage and adrenaline, Cedric killed all four of them.
He looted them instead, and took off for the countryside, where he felt he should be safer. He joined a larger group of survivors who had the same idea. Almost forty strong, everyone thought safety in numbers would get them to the countryside quickly. It only made them a target by infected, looters and military. Sadly, most of the survivors were killed by uninfected humans, something which tore at Cedric everyday at how humanity had turned out.
The splash was what alerted the weary survivor.
Gun raised and already two steps closer to the tent and the river, Cedric peered into the unsettling mist, trying to make out what caused the disturbance in the calm of the forest. He did not call a challenge or wake the rest of the party. He waited for the intruder to reveal themselves. Cedric waited. And waited still. But nothing emerged from the mist. Not a gunshot, the swish of an arrow or rock. Not another splash or footsteps. Nothing. Cedric did not let down his guard. The splash he heard was definitely not normal. Someone was out there.
He'll find the intruder later. Infected or not, the intruder could hardly see the survivors. Cedric turned and woke Stevie. He curled up in his bedroll and tried to sleep.
Cedric woke up again. He spied the silhouette of Ollie with his beloved hunting rifle. That would mean it was almost dawn. With slow and steady movements so the rest would not hear him, Cedric packed his personal supplies and quietly left the tent. The bedroll he left in the tent. Cedric did not want for human company, even if the other three were suitably good people. He would rather stay a loner.
Carefully he crossed the river with the makeshift platform he painstakingly built when he found the spot. He drew his gun and scanned his surroundings more carefully now. He was on the side of the river where the intruder apparently was. He moved very slowly, but was sure he made a fair distance from the camp by now. Cedric felt a small pang for leaving the others behind. He shook his head and asserted himself that he was a loner. He was not fit for society no matter how wrecked it is now. So absorbed in his thoughts the hardened survivor was caught off guard by the two sleeping children he nearly stepped on.
With a startled cry by all three, the survivors leapt to a side. Cedric's eyes widened. Two children alive in this world. At a young age to boot! The older one, a boy seemed only nine while the girl was about six. They looked frightened, starved and dirty, similar to most of the survivors roaming the world nowadays. Cedric crouched to their eye level and said as gently as he could muster, "You two alone?' The boy nodded shakily. "You need help?" The boy just stared at him. The girl held tight to his arm. Cedric smiled and said, "Hey, I got a group of friends down the river, we got some extra food. We're handy with the infected. Wanna stay with us? We can keep you safe." The boy shook his head vigorously. Cedric held his patience and said "Hey come on, even squeakers like you should know that this world is dangerous, especially for unarmed kids. We can help you." Then the boy said in a surprisingly strong voice, "I never said I was unarmed." Too late, Cedric realized the boy had a hand in his jacket, and was pulling it out with startlingly speed.
The shot cut through the mist and the silence of the dawn.
The boy sifted through the dead man's pockets while his sister rummaged the rucksack. Sarah piped up, "Gabe, we can;t carry such a big rucksack. Should we still grab the food in here?" The boy, Gabriel, shook his head and said, "Take what we can carry and need. Forget his gun. It's too heavy for me. Hurry, his 'friends' should be here soon. No one is trustworthy in this world." Stuffing Cedric's food in their pockets and schoolbags, the two siblings disappeared into the mist.
A figure emerged from the mist and stood over Cedric's body. Growling, the infected howled and bent over the body. From out of the mist lumbered out five more infected. They had not feasted for days.
Then the looters turned on him.
Through rage and adrenaline, Cedric killed all four of them.
He looted them instead, and took off for the countryside, where he felt he should be safer. He joined a larger group of survivors who had the same idea. Almost forty strong, everyone thought safety in numbers would get them to the countryside quickly. It only made them a target by infected, looters and military. Sadly, most of the survivors were killed by uninfected humans, something which tore at Cedric everyday at how humanity had turned out.
The splash was what alerted the weary survivor.
Gun raised and already two steps closer to the tent and the river, Cedric peered into the unsettling mist, trying to make out what caused the disturbance in the calm of the forest. He did not call a challenge or wake the rest of the party. He waited for the intruder to reveal themselves. Cedric waited. And waited still. But nothing emerged from the mist. Not a gunshot, the swish of an arrow or rock. Not another splash or footsteps. Nothing. Cedric did not let down his guard. The splash he heard was definitely not normal. Someone was out there.
He'll find the intruder later. Infected or not, the intruder could hardly see the survivors. Cedric turned and woke Stevie. He curled up in his bedroll and tried to sleep.
Cedric woke up again. He spied the silhouette of Ollie with his beloved hunting rifle. That would mean it was almost dawn. With slow and steady movements so the rest would not hear him, Cedric packed his personal supplies and quietly left the tent. The bedroll he left in the tent. Cedric did not want for human company, even if the other three were suitably good people. He would rather stay a loner.
Carefully he crossed the river with the makeshift platform he painstakingly built when he found the spot. He drew his gun and scanned his surroundings more carefully now. He was on the side of the river where the intruder apparently was. He moved very slowly, but was sure he made a fair distance from the camp by now. Cedric felt a small pang for leaving the others behind. He shook his head and asserted himself that he was a loner. He was not fit for society no matter how wrecked it is now. So absorbed in his thoughts the hardened survivor was caught off guard by the two sleeping children he nearly stepped on.
With a startled cry by all three, the survivors leapt to a side. Cedric's eyes widened. Two children alive in this world. At a young age to boot! The older one, a boy seemed only nine while the girl was about six. They looked frightened, starved and dirty, similar to most of the survivors roaming the world nowadays. Cedric crouched to their eye level and said as gently as he could muster, "You two alone?' The boy nodded shakily. "You need help?" The boy just stared at him. The girl held tight to his arm. Cedric smiled and said, "Hey, I got a group of friends down the river, we got some extra food. We're handy with the infected. Wanna stay with us? We can keep you safe." The boy shook his head vigorously. Cedric held his patience and said "Hey come on, even squeakers like you should know that this world is dangerous, especially for unarmed kids. We can help you." Then the boy said in a surprisingly strong voice, "I never said I was unarmed." Too late, Cedric realized the boy had a hand in his jacket, and was pulling it out with startlingly speed.
The shot cut through the mist and the silence of the dawn.
The boy sifted through the dead man's pockets while his sister rummaged the rucksack. Sarah piped up, "Gabe, we can;t carry such a big rucksack. Should we still grab the food in here?" The boy, Gabriel, shook his head and said, "Take what we can carry and need. Forget his gun. It's too heavy for me. Hurry, his 'friends' should be here soon. No one is trustworthy in this world." Stuffing Cedric's food in their pockets and schoolbags, the two siblings disappeared into the mist.
A figure emerged from the mist and stood over Cedric's body. Growling, the infected howled and bent over the body. From out of the mist lumbered out five more infected. They had not feasted for days.
Monday 3 June 2013
Tag
The two children were inseparable until Jason moved. His best friend Nichole, dubbed Nicky by the then seven year old boy, always played tag everyday after school with him and several other children around the fields of the small town they lived in. Nichole sobbed harder than when she was only a baby when Jason told her the news. Jason's father had gotten a job in the city, and his employers were willing to set him up with a house there.
While Nichole was glad that Jason's family would earn more money (the Garnets never had enough to get by), that would mean losing her best friend in town. Soon enough, the moving truck from the city drove away with the last of the Garnets' furniture and belongings. The Garnets' themselves were getting ready to go. Many of the townsfolk came to see the well-liked family off. After much pleading with her parents, Nichole managed to get her siblings and Jason to play tag one last time.
The outcome was as expected. Lightning fast Jason caught them all under ten minutes. Even those who hid themselves well (or so they thought) were discovered and caught by Jason. While the kids sprawled themselves on the grassy fields, Nichole asked Jason, "Don't you ever get tired of winning Jason?" Jason rolled over and propped himself up with his elbows. He replied, "Nah. I woulda asked you if you're tired of losing to me Nicky." Nichole whined, "But you always win. You're the fastest in town, and you know all the good hiding spots." Jason's tone grew solemn and he said, "Well, you always pick me to be the catcher right?" Nichole grew red while her siblings went, "Oooooo".
Nichole started to say something when Mrs. Garnet called for Jason. The kids got up. Jason shrugged at Nichole and her siblings. He slowly said, "This is it, I guess." Nichole and her two sisters and brother crowded around Jason and took in turns to hug him. All of the kids were crying after their last hugs. Jason ran off to his mother. Before climbing into the beaten-up pickup, Jason turned and waved to the children he grew up with. Nichole waved back, along with her siblings.
Nichole was still waving when the pickup had long gone and her siblings had returned home. She sat down alone in the field and stayed there until her worried father found her and brought her home.
Time flies...
Nicky followed the four men from the rooftops of the crime-filled area of Old Town. It was not a town per se, but rather a dirty, scum-ridden outskirt of the city. It was where crime is not just a part of town, but a way of life. Seventeen-year-old Nicky had lost her parents and brother to this godforsaken outskirt, her parents in a botched robbery and her brother to a drunken driver. With her two sisters Shirley and Cassandra left and her as the oldest after Damien died, it fell on to Nicky to scavenge and steal in order for the three sisters to survive.
Now Nicky was tailing a group of four men to see if what they held in their bags was cash or drugs. If it was drugs, Nicky would throw them aside since she had no clue about peddling them. If it was cash-Nicky would be very careful on spending it. It did not trouble the girl that the men might have guns or connections, she lived and stole here long enough to know how to navigate among the streets, rooftops and alleys of Old Town. It would be just like playing tag back in the fields of her home. Easy, made easier that Jason was not here to catch her this time. God, Jason, I wonder where in hell are you now, thought Nicky as she poked her head over the edge of the building she was on.
The men had stopped in one of the countless alleys in Old Town. Their bags were unslung and plopped to the ground. Out of the shadows of the alley emerged an equal number of men, also carrying bags. The two sides stared at each other and muttered code words and greetings. Nicky did not care for the inner workings of the gangs here, she just wanted to know if there was any cash present.
Then, a phrase drifted up towards her. It was "We got the cash..." It came from the lead man of the group she followed. With silent, eager steps, Nicky picked her way down to ground level.
Nicky peeped around the corner at the men. The bags wer between the two groups. They maybe armed, maybe have itchy trigger fingers. so she had to act fast. At best, Nicky could startle them long enough to only grab one bag, before guns were drawn. She inhaled and thought of her family, both deceased and living. She turned just as the shooting started.
Nicky whipped back, the shooting stopped almost immediately. She heard someone give orders. "Right, Chris, Shark grab the dust. I'll get the money. Sly, watch our backs, cops might get here soon." That tears it! One of them will stand guard. Nicky had to either chance it or forget the bags. The choice was easy. Nicky bowled past the man sent to guard the alley and shoved another aside, grabbing the bag of cash he just zipped up.
Nicky had scaled the fire escape and was already on the roof when the first shots were fired. She heard shouting and picked up her pace. No telling if any of those gang members were skilled at navigating Old Town, she had to pick up her pace.
Nicky leaped over the gap between the two tenements and glanced back. Her eyes widened as a figure swung up the building she just leapt off. She swore as a bullet whipped past her hair, cutting a lock off. The gangster was accurate in the dark and nimble to get up on the roofs quick enough. He was it.
Time to play Tag.
While Nichole was glad that Jason's family would earn more money (the Garnets never had enough to get by), that would mean losing her best friend in town. Soon enough, the moving truck from the city drove away with the last of the Garnets' furniture and belongings. The Garnets' themselves were getting ready to go. Many of the townsfolk came to see the well-liked family off. After much pleading with her parents, Nichole managed to get her siblings and Jason to play tag one last time.
The outcome was as expected. Lightning fast Jason caught them all under ten minutes. Even those who hid themselves well (or so they thought) were discovered and caught by Jason. While the kids sprawled themselves on the grassy fields, Nichole asked Jason, "Don't you ever get tired of winning Jason?" Jason rolled over and propped himself up with his elbows. He replied, "Nah. I woulda asked you if you're tired of losing to me Nicky." Nichole whined, "But you always win. You're the fastest in town, and you know all the good hiding spots." Jason's tone grew solemn and he said, "Well, you always pick me to be the catcher right?" Nichole grew red while her siblings went, "Oooooo".
Nichole started to say something when Mrs. Garnet called for Jason. The kids got up. Jason shrugged at Nichole and her siblings. He slowly said, "This is it, I guess." Nichole and her two sisters and brother crowded around Jason and took in turns to hug him. All of the kids were crying after their last hugs. Jason ran off to his mother. Before climbing into the beaten-up pickup, Jason turned and waved to the children he grew up with. Nichole waved back, along with her siblings.
Nichole was still waving when the pickup had long gone and her siblings had returned home. She sat down alone in the field and stayed there until her worried father found her and brought her home.
Time flies...
Nicky followed the four men from the rooftops of the crime-filled area of Old Town. It was not a town per se, but rather a dirty, scum-ridden outskirt of the city. It was where crime is not just a part of town, but a way of life. Seventeen-year-old Nicky had lost her parents and brother to this godforsaken outskirt, her parents in a botched robbery and her brother to a drunken driver. With her two sisters Shirley and Cassandra left and her as the oldest after Damien died, it fell on to Nicky to scavenge and steal in order for the three sisters to survive.
Now Nicky was tailing a group of four men to see if what they held in their bags was cash or drugs. If it was drugs, Nicky would throw them aside since she had no clue about peddling them. If it was cash-Nicky would be very careful on spending it. It did not trouble the girl that the men might have guns or connections, she lived and stole here long enough to know how to navigate among the streets, rooftops and alleys of Old Town. It would be just like playing tag back in the fields of her home. Easy, made easier that Jason was not here to catch her this time. God, Jason, I wonder where in hell are you now, thought Nicky as she poked her head over the edge of the building she was on.
The men had stopped in one of the countless alleys in Old Town. Their bags were unslung and plopped to the ground. Out of the shadows of the alley emerged an equal number of men, also carrying bags. The two sides stared at each other and muttered code words and greetings. Nicky did not care for the inner workings of the gangs here, she just wanted to know if there was any cash present.
Then, a phrase drifted up towards her. It was "We got the cash..." It came from the lead man of the group she followed. With silent, eager steps, Nicky picked her way down to ground level.
Nicky peeped around the corner at the men. The bags wer between the two groups. They maybe armed, maybe have itchy trigger fingers. so she had to act fast. At best, Nicky could startle them long enough to only grab one bag, before guns were drawn. She inhaled and thought of her family, both deceased and living. She turned just as the shooting started.
Nicky whipped back, the shooting stopped almost immediately. She heard someone give orders. "Right, Chris, Shark grab the dust. I'll get the money. Sly, watch our backs, cops might get here soon." That tears it! One of them will stand guard. Nicky had to either chance it or forget the bags. The choice was easy. Nicky bowled past the man sent to guard the alley and shoved another aside, grabbing the bag of cash he just zipped up.
Nicky had scaled the fire escape and was already on the roof when the first shots were fired. She heard shouting and picked up her pace. No telling if any of those gang members were skilled at navigating Old Town, she had to pick up her pace.
Nicky leaped over the gap between the two tenements and glanced back. Her eyes widened as a figure swung up the building she just leapt off. She swore as a bullet whipped past her hair, cutting a lock off. The gangster was accurate in the dark and nimble to get up on the roofs quick enough. He was it.
Time to play Tag.
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