The Infected Dead (Book 2): Survive For Now (32 page)

"I might not be able to get down there with you boys, but I can still shoot."

"How's your foot?" asked the Chief.

"Looks nasty, but Bus said it probably hurt the infected that bit me worse than it hurt me."

Somehow I doubted that, but we all appreciated the attitude. Kathy took aim and fired a shot down the corridor. We saw the first infected dead that had tumbled down the gangway somewhere up ahead. He disappeared back the way he had come from the force of the shot.

"Ed, when we get that far, check the guy hanging on the ladder. Tom and I will get more light down the corridor. He can stay there and pick off any that tumble down from above, and I'll check the ready room. Everyone clear about their jobs?"

We both acknowledged the Chief, including Kathy who knew she had overwatch. Tom carried the high powered halogen down the corridor, and we all saw the gangway appear about forty feet away. There was an opening in the bulkhead under the gangway that could only be the engine room. It was open and totally black beyond, but our immediate suspicion was that it was down another steep gangway. That was why nothing was coming out of it.

There were too many infected dead to untangle themselves from each other at the bottom of the gangway. Kathy shot them as soon as the area was illuminated. If any more dropped in, they would have to extricate themselves from the others before they could get up and come after the guys.

Kathy switched her light and her aim to the dead man hanging from the ladder, and she saved me the trouble of climbing up to check him by putting a bullet through his head. I gave her a wave and caught up with the Chief. Tom was half way between the door and the gangway giving Kathy a clear field of fire if anything else came down the gangway. He also wasn't going to take it for granted that there wasn't another entry to the corridor to the right of the engine room door. He couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like a corridor went toward the right along that bulkhead.

The Chief and I positioned ourselves outside the ready room. He had his hand on the doorknob while I put my back against the wall directly across from it. Being a narrow corridor, I was practically on top of the door when I raised my Glock to aim inside. The Chief turned the knob and pushed the door. I only had the moonlight coming from the porthole and the halogen in the corridor to see by, but I had enough light to tell there was a small body lying on the floor. I could also tell it wasn't moving.

The Chief clicked on his flashlight, took one look, and yelled for Bus. I was frozen for a moment as I held my breath in disbelief. I knew she was gone by the look on the Chief's face, and I somehow managed to break free from the wall and get past him into the room.

I turned Jean to face me, and when I pressed my cheek against her and pulled her to me, I was vaguely aware that something wasn't right. She was supposed to be cold, but she was burning up. Her hair and face were covered with sweat.

Bus pushed past the Chief and then gently took her from me. He began checking her over, and said, "She's got a really nasty scratch down her left arm, but there aren't any obvious bite marks. It looks infected, and her temperature has to be in the danger area. We need to get her back to the island as fast as possible."

Needing no other information, the Chief scooped Jean up from the floor like she was a feather and started for the ladder. Tom shot two more infected as they tumbled down the gangway, and all of us began moving up the ladder. Bus got to show off his compact strength by launching himself up the ladder first and then lifting Jean from the Chief as he followed.

Once we were in the hangar bay, I could see that Jean was alive but unconscious. Kathy had anticipated Bus's first instructions to her and was unpacking some medical supplies.

"Good girl, Kathy. We'll stabilize her here then get moving." He drew a syringe of clear liquid and found a vein. A second shot was given into her hip. He looked up at me and said, "Adrenaline for her heart and penicillin for infection."

"Is that okay for the baby?” I asked. I sounded out of breath, but I was afraid.

Bus gave me a sympathetic look and said, "It's a gamble, Ed. The baby won't survive if her heart isn't pumping enough oxygen to her own body, and we have to stop that infection from reaching the baby."

As Bus gave her the injections, Kathy wrapped the deep scratch in Jean's arm with a gauze bandage soaked in some kind of antiseptic. There was an instant cold compress in the medical kit, and she wrapped it onto the back of Jean's neck. Because Kathy and the Chief had worked with Jean on the cruise ship, he knew that Bus would want to check her vital signs before they moved her again, so he had the stethoscope and blood pressure cuff ready as soon as Bus reached for them. Tom and I could only stand by and watch, but I could see it had been a fortunate decision to bring Bus back to the island with us. If not for that decision, Jean would be at the mercy of a bunch of amateurs.

"Her pulse is thready, but we can move her. We need to be fast so we can get that wound irrigated and stitched as soon as possible."

Tom had to help Kathy as she hopped along on one foot, so I took the lead as the Chief carried Jean, and Bus kept a close eye on her. The moon was high as we left the hangar bay, and for some reason I felt like it was important to close the door behind us. Maybe it was because all that shooting had been like ringing a dinner bell in the middle of the moat. The beach along the mainland was dotted with the shadows of the infected dead that were wandering out of the surrounding trees. The cold weather had left the brush and undergrowth dry, so there was a rustling sound along with their constant groaning. At least they weren't coming out of the trees on Mud Island, so we wouldn't have to deal with them.

There was no way to move fast and gracefully get Jean down to the boat, so the Chief just put her over one shoulder and went down the ladder like Tarzan. I had to admit to myself that I had always had in the back of my mind that the Chief could have played the part of Tarzan after he grew up.

The rest of us were in the boat and casting off in seconds. The Chief turned Jean over to Bus while we got Kathy comfortable. It looked like she was going to walk with a limp for a few weeks. The Chief started the powerful motors and backed away from the Russian ship.

Kathy yelled, "Which is faster, Chief, the escape tunnel or the dock?"

"Good point," he answered. "The dock is still a half mile from the front door. Escape tunnel it is."

The Chief rotated the boat and brought us to full speed in seconds, and the full moon was bringing in a high tide, so we were able to get really close to the escape tunnel Kathy had used earlier. There was a gap in the oyster beds, and the Chief brought us right up to the soft mud with the bow. At the last second he put us broadside to the beach and cut the engines. We were able to scramble over the side as a group and locate the escape hatch. I dialed in the combination and then got out of the Chief's way as he and Bus guided Jean down the tunnel faster than an amusement park ride.

Kathy followed them while Tom and I tied the boat to some nearby deadwood and dropped the anchor in shallow water. I had no urge to get it caught on the nets. By silent agreement, we knew we could always come back for the boat, so we went down the hatch and sealed it as we went.

By the time I got to the bottom, they had already carried Jean to the infirmary. Kathy was explaining what had happened to Allison and hugging Molly, telling her that Aunt Jean was going to be okay. Tom took over with them while I helped Kathy to hobble from the master bedroom to the infirmary.

Bus had an IV bag hooked up to Jean and was working on her arm. It looked ugly because he had been forced to reopen the wound to clean it out.

"How is she, Doc?"

"We won't know until she regains consciousness, Ed. I don't know if the book was ever in on whether or not a scratch from one of those infected dead was fatal. Do you?"

"No, we never had a chance to test that theory," I said. "Do you know for sure what scratched her?"

"Not one hundred percent, but there are four parallel tracks, so it looks like a hand. The middle track broke through the skin and dug deep, so the scratch is ragged. It had to hurt like hell when it happened. The good news is that the ice bags and glucose have lowered the body temperature a degree already. We have her stabile, but I need to get this stitched. It's probably better that she's not conscious for this part."

The woman I loved looked like she had been through hell, but in the short time I had known her, I knew she was tough enough to survive. At least with the help of a capable doctor, she had a chance. All I could do was stand there and watch, but wild horses couldn't have dragged me away.

Kathy was propped up on a tall chair in the corner of the tiny infirmary, and the Chief was using a roll of cellophane to wrap ice packs onto her ankle. He had given her a couple of pain killers, and Tom had joined us with a bottle of bourbon. Kathy was in the process of chasing the pills with the liquor, and she looked like she was already feeling the effects. There wasn't anything I could do to help at the moment, so I relieved her of the bottle and took a big swallow. My knees started feeling wobbly, and it was Bus who looked up in time to realize that I was about to take my turn at passing out. He jumped up and caught me in time to lift me onto a chair next to Kathy. Allison appeared out of nowhere and got a blood pressure cuff on my arm. The little infirmary was like a crowded Emergency Room.

I must have been out for longer than I realized because Bus had finished stitching Jean's arm and was wrapping it with sterile gauze when I opened my eyes. Kathy was leaning against me, and she looked like she wasn't feeling any pain. She handed the mostly empty bottle back to me.

"You didn't spill any," she said with a lopsided grin.

"What happened?" I managed to croak out through a dry throat.

Doctor Bus looked across Jean and said, "Adrenaline rush for too long. When you came down you crashed."

"Is he going to be okay?"

The weak voice that asked the question caught us all by surprise. At first we thought Molly had come into the room because it sounded like a little girl, but then we saw Jean had her head turned my way, and her eyes were open.

I fell down when I got off my chair, and the Chief had to help me to my feet. As soon as he did, I had my arms around Jean's neck and was crying.

"Have you been drinking, Eddie? You can barely stand up."

Her voice was music to my ears, and we all started laughing. She looked over at Doctor Bus and said, "Doctor Bus, I presume?"

"Yes, that would be me Jean. You've had a rough time, and I'm going to need for you to get some rest. Now that we know you're going to be okay, I want to give you a mild sedative that will help with the pain and let you get some rest. You need to recover a bit before you move around. The baby's going to need you to be just a little stronger."

"The baby? My baby is still okay?” she asked.

Bus showed his best bedside manner and gave her a little wink.

“It has a strong heartbeat and is going to be fine…just like mom. The scratch of an infected dead is dirty and can cause a nasty infection, but it isn’t fatal.”

We all shared a satisfying moment of smiles, silent tears, and tremendous love for each other.

I would love to hear from you, and I value your opinions and comments. The best way to help an author become better at his craft is to write a review, so please feel free to write one. If you would like to know more about me or get in touch with me, please visit my website at realbobhoward.com. You can also sign up for my newsletter and be notified when the next book is released.

With gratitude,

Bob Howard