Chapter Twelve
Rochelle awoke the next morning to voices coming from above her. She sat up and saw that Nick was gone and she was covered with his jacket. She glanced at her watch; it was almost 6:00 am and light was starting to brighten the room. She stood up and stretched, thinking about how they had made love a second time last night. It had been much slower and more controlled than the first time and Rochelle felt her stomach flutter at the memory of Nick's blue eyes as they closed in ecstasy, her name on his lips. That had pushed her over the edge she'd been hovering on as well.
Shaking her head and grabbing her stuff as well as Nick's jacket, she climbed up the ladder to join the others.
"Hey, Rochelle! Mornin'!" Ellis greeted her enthusiastically. Nick and Coach were talking just outside the door.
"Mornin'," she returned.
"We've got some supplies here. Looks like people left stuff when they headed across the bridge for the evac," Ellis pointed to a veritable stockpile of pipe bombs, ammo, guns, med packs, and molotovs. "Looks like we'll be headed across the bridge soon. That's what nick and Coach are discussing right now."
Rochelle bent down and loaded up on supplies, hoping she wouldn't need it all.
"Hey," Nick said as he walked back in and saw her.
"Hey," she replied, standing up. "Here's your jacket." She wasn't sure how to act in the light of day and in front of everyone else.
Nick smiled and took his jacket from her, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her forehead. "Thanks. How'd you sleep?"
Rochelle smiled back. "Pretty well."
Coach cleared his throat from the doorway. "Glad to see you're up. I think it's time to get a move on."
"Right," Nick agreed, putting his jacket on and scooping up ammo to put in the pockets.
"We radioed the military on the other side to let them know we're on our way. We're gonna have to lower the bridge first. That might stir things up a little. Make sure you have as many supplies as possible," Coach cautioned.
Rochelle nodded in understanding. "God, I really, really hope they have coffee when we get across!"
"God, yes!" Nick agreed.
"I hope they have cheeseburgers!" Coach countered.
"I could go for a cold beer," Ellis added.
"Yes!" the others all agreed.
They laughed and then Coach looked at each of them in turn. "We ready?"
They nodded in agreement and stepped out onto the bridge.
It was worse than they had anticipated. The clanging of the bridge as it lowered into place had seemingly stirred up every infected left in a five mile radius. They made it a quarter of the way across the bridge before they encountered the first problem. The abandoned vehicles were blocking the way so badly and so many infected were swarming over them that Ellis, who was in the lead, climbed up the small ladder on the back of a tanker truck. Coach followed and by the time Nick got on top, bringing up the rear, they were battling infected from that vantage point, unable to move forward any farther.
"We've got to keep moving," Coach yelled over the sound of their guns.
"Let me throw a pipe bomb to clear things up a bit," Ellis yelled, taking one off his belt.
"Throw it as far as you can, Kid!" Nick called and Ellis nodded.
Pulling his arm wayback, he let it sail a good fifty yards in front of them. They waited the short time for the beeping to attract as many of the infected as possible and then, as the explosion happened, Coach yelled, "Go!"
They ran dodging raining body parts and blood, but making it nearly halfway across. There, they faced another problem; the bridge was practically destroyed.
"Shit!" Rochelle exclaimed, turning to dispatch the three infected clawing their way towards them from the gaping hole in the bridge. "Now what?"
Nick jogged a few feet along the narrow side of the bridge that was still accessible. He shook his head and came back. "It's worse that way." He turned and looked up at the upper deck that had collapsed down onto the roadway they were on. "Think we can climb up that to the upper deck?"
Coach looked at it and then looked down the way they had been headed. "Seems like we have no choice. Let's do it."
It was stepp going and Coach had to give his gun to Ellis in order to climb it. When they reached the top, there were some discarded weapons and very few infected. While Coach caught his breath, Rochelle ran to the edge of the upper deck that was once again collapsed onto the lower one. It wasn't as steep, but more importantly, she could see across the way to the military installation. There was a helicopter there and she saw a handful of soldiers. One of them saw her and waved and she waved back.
"They're waiting for us! I see them! Let's go!" she called back.
The others caught up to her and looked down. "That isn't so bad," Coach said. "Let's go!"
They skidded down to the lower level and then made their way to the back of a box truck where there was more ammo and an additional pipe bomb. Nick threw one behind them to give them a little breathing room and that's when Rochelle saw Coach rubbing his knee.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah. Old injury acting up. I'll be okay," he replied.
"We're almost there. We can do it!" Ellis encouraged them.
They left the relative safety of the truck and started pushing their way forward. The infected were worse here, so many more coming at them, and then it eased up a little.
"That's not a good sign," Nick called, stepping around yet another gaping hole.
"Tank!" Ellis yelled.
"Dammit!" Coach swore.
"Wait for it to get closer! Maybe we can lure it over the edge of this hole!" Rochelle said.
As it came at them, she pulled a molotov out and lit it. Timing would be everything. The others started shooting at it and then she cocked her arm back and let loose the burning missile. She nailed it square in the chest and the roar of pain it let out nearly shattered their eardrums.
They poured round after round into it and as she'd predicted, it charged right at the hole, blind with pain and rage.
"Yes!" Ellis hollered, elated. Nick turned to high five Rochelle and was pushed to the ground as a charger came bellowing out of nowhere. He heard Rochelle's scream and he scrambled to get up. He watched as both she and the charger disappeared over the edge of the bridge.
"No!" he screamed, running to the edge. He didn't know what he was expecting to see, but Rochelle hanging on for dear life to the bottom, worker's walkway was probably the last thing.
"Jesus Christ!" he swore, dropping flat on the ground to lean over and grab her by the arms to hoist her up.
He grabbed her to him in a fierce embrace and kissed her forehead, cheek, and mouth, "I thought you were gone!"
Rochelle was shaking like a leaf and holding on to him for dear life. "I thought so, too."
He held her away from him to look her over. "Are you all right?"
She nodded and moved away from the edge, going back to meet Coach and Ellis.
"Damn, Rochelle! I thought you were a goner!" Ellis exclaimed, giving her a quick hug. Coach did the same.
"Let's go, people. I can smell a cheeseburger!"
They were running now, siping at infected as they went. Nick allowed himself to hope. Just a few more yards and they'd be over the bridge and, hopefully, finally, truly safe. He watched Ellis cross the final span onto solid ground and turned to encourage the others when everything went to Hell.
Nick heard the tell-tale sound of a jockey as it made a leap towards Coach. Nick turned to fire, but just as it leapt, Coach fell. Undaunted, the jockey sprang at the nearest person which just happened to be Rochelle. Nick took careful aim and pulled the trigger. In that instant, almost as if in slow motion, a smoker lassoed his arm and pulled, sending the shot low. The last thing Nick saw before being spun around by the smoker was Rochelle buckling and falling to the ground. In what was only about fifteen seconds but what felt like fifteen minutes, Ellis was able to free Nick from the smoker and Coach had killed the jockey that had given up on Rochelle's lifeless-looking body and had launched itself at Coach again.
Nick picked himself up and ran faster than he'd ever run in his life back to Rochelle. "Oh my God," he cried, seeing the blood from the gunshot wound soaking through her left shoulder. "Rochelle!" He yelled at her, slapping her face, trying to get a response. There was none.
"Everyone! Let's go! The chopper is leaving in five minutes!" came the voice on a bullhorn from the helipad just over the bridge.
"Nick! Come on!" Ellis screamed as he and Coach came staggering up.
Nick pulled Rochelle's body up and hoisted her into his arms. A moan came from her and Nick's heart started beating again. "She's alive! Help me!"
"I've got your back!" Coach said, urging him forward. Ellis ran in front, using a shotgun to clear their way. In this fashion, they half-ran, half-staggered to the chopper. Two soldiers in hazmat suits ran to the front of the chopper while a third slammed the ramp shut as the four weary survivors finally made it. Before they could sit, the chopper lurched off the ground and Nick collapsed, cradling Rochelle to prevent her from further harm. A window opened between the cockpit and the back and a soldier called through.
"There are med supplies in that crate by you. How badly is she hurt?"
Coach staggered to the window while Ellis dug madly through the supplies. "It's bad. Jockey had her and the shot went wild."
"You're telling me she has a gunshot wound?"
"Yes, Sir."
The soldier nodded. "I'm radioing ahead for a surgical team. Our ETA is thirty minutes. Try to stop the bleeding."
Coach nodded. "Where are we headed?"
"A facility in the Florida Keys. It's secure with no sickness."
"Thank God," Coach replied and turned back to the others.
"What about these?" Ellis asked, showing nick gauze pads and tape.
"Yes. Give me those. And find me more," Nick replied calmly, although his actions belied the calmness. He was frantically pulling her shirt off and holding it against the wound. He looked up at Coach, "Help me sit her up. I don't know if the bullet went through or not."
Coach knelt and pulled her up. "There's no exit wound. Just worry about the one in front."
Nick nodded and Ellis opened the supplies with shaking hands. Nick pulled her shirt away from the wound and replaced it with the gauze. It nearly immediately turned red with her blood.
"Rochelle, Honey...stay with me. Come on!" Nick urged as he added more gauze and started taping it down. He looked up into Coach's eyes, almost pleadingly. "She's not responding. She won't wake up. I never meant to hit her. The smoker…," he tried articulating what was going through his mind, but nothing was coming our right.
"Nick-this is not your fault. Don't even start blaming yourself! We all saw what happened. There was nothing you could've done," Coach interrupted.
"Nick-man, you did everything right! It's so not your fault!" Ellis added.
Nick shook his head, his throat tightening painfully with the effort to not let his emotions show. He continued cradling Rochelle in his lap, rocking her back and forth.
"The pilot said he'd radio ahead and have an emergency surgical team ready when we land. It won't be long now," Coach tried soothing him.
"Rochelle-Baby-can you hear me? Stay with me!" he whispered. "I'm sorry...so, sorry. You have to hang on. I can't be without you. You can't leave me." He kissed her forehead and held her closer. "I just found you. You've saved me. If you leave me, I'm done. Please!" And then, even more quietly, in her ear he whispered, "I love you."
