9

The Medical Center

As the ATV sped through the streets, Lindsey Connor clenched her baseball bat tightly in her hands. The driver handled the vehicle with ease, expertly maneuvering around large crowds of zombies and cutting through narrow spaces between buildings and parked cars. The man with the shotgun would take aim at any zombie that was in their path, but fired only when it was necessary. Sara cradled Justin where the three were sitting in the back, running her hand through his hair absentmindedly. Lindsey, on the other hand, was watching the two men carefully. After her encounter with the Hunters, she knew that she had to be ready for anything to keep her friends safe.

"We're almost there!" the driver called back to them as he turned a corner.

"Shit, man! Speed up!" the man with the shotgun said, looking behind them. Lindsey followed his gaze, glancing over her shoulder to see zombies piling out of the alleyways to pursue them. "We can't lead them back to the med center!"

"Pierce can take care of them!" the driver replied, but Lindsey could feel the ATV gradually speeding up.

"Not an entire horde! We don't have the ammunition!"

"They won't catch up with us," the driver said, but Lindsey could tell that he was uneasy as they sped toward the Medical Center. Even from here, it was visible, a large structure consisting of tons of reflective windows. Up top, Lindsey could read an illuminated sign: Haven City Medical Center. She hadn't realized how dark it was getting until she saw the sign lit up.

The hospital was on the edge of downtown, and as such it was relatively secluded as it had an entire block to itself. A chain link fence was built around the perimeter, and as the ATV slowed down, Lindsey could see the main entrance was largely blocked off by ambulances parked in front of it. There was a group of men standing guard, some of which were standing atop the ambulances themselves, and one man with a rifle stepped forward as the ATV pulled up. Lindsey felt them bounce, and looked over the side into the road to see zombie corpses piled up in the streets, likely shot down by these men.

"We found three more survivors," the driver leaned out to tell the man. The man, Pierce, Lindsey assumed, looked them over, smirking as he lifted his gun over his shoulder.

"The doctor will be glad to hear that," Pierce said, but his eyes widened when he noticed Justin. "Shit, is that one hurt?"

"He was shot," Lindsey said as Sara trembled, clutching Justin tighter without realizing it.

Justin coughed, "So… weak…"

Pierce took a deep breath, looking back at the building nervously, "Well, you'd better hope that Dr. Winslow can do something about that. He's in charge, here. When you get inside, he's set himself up in the office at the end of the hallway."

"Thanks," Lindsey said as the driver pulled up to the doors, and the man left his shotgun in the passenger seat to help Sara lift Justin and carry him inside. Lindsey trailed behind them, her initial misgivings fading away as they entered. Inside were doctors rushing around in white coats and survivors huddled wherever there was room. A couple sat, embracing each other, on a bench next to the entrance and didn't look up as they walked in. The man walked past another of the armed guards who was talking urgently with a doctor.

"-don't know what's going on, but Manchez and Thomas haven't come back from patrol yet-" Lindsey overheard only a bit of their conversation. "-might need to send another squad, could be in danger-"

"-can't risk the manpower-"

The man led them to the end of the crowded, bustling hallway, past rooms where people were lying, injured, or families were gathered together to survive this disaster together. In the middle of it all, a weary-looking, balding man was issuing instructions to teams of doctors, survivors, and guards.

"That's the doctor," the man explained, adjusting his grip on Justin. "Been working hard to keep this place running since the outbreak began. Has all able-bodied men either on patrol or guarding the perimeter, and the women are helping the doctors with the wounded."

"Do you think that this is the only safehouse in Haven City?" Sara asked, hushed.

"I don't know," Lindsey shook her head, "but it's our best chance for him right now. Keeping the living together, that'll be how we survive this."

"She gets it," the man said approvingly as Dr. Winslow's attention finally landed on them, and he hurried over.

"Was he bitten?!" he demanded, directing them into a room with two patient beds. One was empty, which was where the man gently laid Justin down, but there was a man in the other who was clutching his stomach and wheezing softly.

Lindsey helped them get Justin into the bed, and stepped back, pulling Sara with her as the doctor lifted his shirt and peeled off the makeshift duct tape bandage to examine it, "No. He was shot."

"Thank goodness," Dr. Winslow sighed, but then he cast them a sheepish grin. "Sorry. That came out wrong. It's just been very stressful, and I don't know if we can risk having another infected in here. He's lucky."

Justin coughed, his voice still weak, "Don't feel lucky…"

"I'm surprised that your friends could keep you safe out there," Dr. Winslow said, pulling a radio off his belt and muttering some instructions into it, calling for assistance. "Lucky that the bullet didn't permanently damage anything vital. You'll live, but we can't do a full surgery until the quarantine is lifted and we can transport you out of the city. This also, believe it or not, isn't the most severe injury I've seen today, so they might not give you the same urgent care."

A few more doctors hurried into the room, carrying supplies needed to clean and bandage the wound. Justin laid his head back on the pillows; he had been nearly unconscious for hours, and now that he was safe, he was falling into it. Dr. Winslow uttered some medical jargon that Lindsey couldn't follow, and turned away as the doctors got to work.

"We had five cases of dehydration or heat stroke before the outbreak began," Dr. Winslow complained. "People out for the festival who didn't drink enough or people out partying on the beach who didn't think about exposure…" Dr. Winslow ushered them back out into the hallway. "Best to let him rest."

As the man walked back out to his partner, Lindsey looked around, "You have a big operation going on here. Did you lock down as soon as the outbreak started?"

"There are several contingencies in place for a disaster of this magnitude," the doctor nodded. "Always protect the patients. In the event of a zombie outbreak, we are to secure the building and set up as a safehouse for any survivors, though that's come with its own problems…"

"What do you mean?" Sara asked curiously.

Dr. Winslow sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly with one hand. With the other, he pointed down the hall to where the doors were closed, and several guards were standing with their guns in their hands, "We keep the infected in there. People who were suffering with the zombie virus before the incident, or those who were recently bitten… normally we would give them Zombrex, but there's a problem. Phenotrans understocked us. Normally it wouldn't have been an issue, but with the outbreak and nobody being able to find our reserves, we can't do anything except wait for what little Zombrex we have to run out… and then the inevitable comes."

"Oh God…" Sara whimpered, holding her hands over her mouth. "That's horrible."

"There has to be some way to get Zombrex," Lindsey insisted. "Have your men searched the pharmacy?"

Dr. Winslow nodded solemnly, "They were out too. Probably looted when this all started. I sent a team to the morgue, but they haven't reported in. I fear that the worst has happened to them. It's times like this that the Zombrex chip initiative makes a lot of sense.

"Unfortunately, we don't have a lot of weapons," Dr. Winslow continued, walking down the hall away from the infected. "The men standing guard outside have most of them, and the ones patrolling the streets for more survivors have the rest. I've talked to Pierce, but he says that sending a team of men out searching for Zombrex with our weapons is too dangerous, that it compromises the sanctuary we've managed to keep thus far."

"I'll go," Lindsey said.

"...excuse me?" Dr. Winslow asked after a short pause, turning around and raising an eyebrow.

"I'll go out and find the Zombrex," she repeated.

"Wait, Lindsey-" Sara began.

"Look," Lindsey said, ignoring her. "I'm pretty fast on my feet, and I've made it this far with my baseball bat. Before we got here, I was just worried on getting my friends someplace safe. Now that we're here, I want to help." Before Dr. Winslow could finish thinking and reply, Lindsey quickly added, "And besides. If I don't go- if nobody goes- then all those infected people are going to die."

Dr. Winslow closed his eyes, chuckling, "Well… I can't argue with that." He opened them again, and pointed at the door. "I want you to go talk to Pierce before you go. Maybe he can help you with supplies. Do you know where the morgue is?" Lindsey shook her head. "The closest one is a few blocks away, on Flemming Avenue. It's the Ryker Funeral Home. Big building, you can't miss it. It's across the street from the Chieftain's Hut. You'll have to go through the festival to get there, but they keep Zombrex reserves in there just in case. Not a lot, but there should be enough to last until we can get everyone out of here."

"Got it," Lindsey nodded.

"Stay safe," Sara said, wringing her hands. "And, um, thanks, Lindsey. I don't think Justin or I would have made it here without you."

"Don't thank me until we can get out of here," Lindsey smiled. Sara's eyes welled up with tears, and she held out her arms. Reluctantly, Lindsey stepped forward to hug her coworker as Dr. Winslow pulled up his radio again to talk to Pierce. "I'll be back soon."

Lindsey strolled down the hallway, walking out into the warm summer evening. The men were taking aim at zombies while others were getting ready with fire axes and baseball bats like Lindsey's for the ones that were getting close. The leader, Pierce, was waiting for her when she walked outside.

"You the one that the doctor sent out?" he greeted her with a nod.

"Yeah," said Lindsey, holding her bat over her shoulder. "He said you might be able to help me."

"I don't think that we can spare any guns," Pierce said, glancing over at the men standing guard. "Fortunately, these decaying bastards don't seem to notice the gunfire unless it's right in their faces, but still. I think I can offer you another weapon."

"This bat has worked out pretty well so far."

"Well, we've got some more choices over there," Pierce said, pointing over his shoulder to an area behind the ambulance barricades where a few crates of supplies were stacked up. "Go take a look. If you find something you like, take it with you."

"Thank you," Lindsey said as he turned to rejoin the guards. Curious, she walked over to where he had pointed to find that the options were limited. More fire axes from inside, some baseball bats, some machetes, but it looked like this was mostly construction equipment for the guards to work on fortifying the fence. Hammers, toolboxes with the contents hanging out, contents like nails, tape measurers, duct tape…

It felt as though a lightbulb went off in Lindsey's head as she looked from the toolbox to the weapons, and then she began to grin. She scooped up one of the machetes and plucked the duct tape out of the toolbox. She held her bat and the machete together with one hand and with the other she twisted the tape around it, making sure that it was sturdy before she cut the tape. Now, she was holding a baseball bat-machete hybrid that looked like it could do some serious damage.

I think I'll call this… I don't know. The Baseball Slash? Nah. Just the Slasher.

Feeling inspired, Lindsey clutched her Slasher as she headed back out into the Haven City streets. Every moment that she wasted meant that somebody was getting closer to turning into a zombie.

And that was a fate that she would wish on nobody.

Author's Note:

Hope you've enjoyed reading this so far! Unfortunately, I'm going to be putting this fanfic on hiatus until December so that I can do NaNoWriMo.

I have fifteen chapters and an ending planned, but no more progress will be made until November is over.