Chapter 4

Date Unknown

Post Destruction of Contamination Zone

"I realize that you all must be wondering if what I am telling you has anything to do with the outbreak of the virus, your virus, or not. Before you all begin cursing at me for wasting your precious time, I will explain it for you. You know, just in case you don't get it the first time around," Alyssa said with a tired voice. She took a deep breath that seemed to be glass shattering in the dead silence of the room.

"I'm bringing you all back this far to show you that this disaster wasn't a statistic. I'm showing you that these were and still are people. Human beings. Of course it's silly of me to think you would get that, even with my explanation. You all must have lost your humanity a long time ago."

"George Hamilton was…" Alyssa stopped herself in mid sentence. It sounded like she laughed under her breath. "George Hamilton is a good man. I never once met a man as friendly or caring prior to nor have I met one since. George was a man everyone grew to trust and he was always quick to offer a helping hand. I guess it was in his nature, considering he was a doctor after all."

"It was heart breaking knowing that he wanted to be back at the hospital to try and help who ever he could. As selfish as this may sound, I am glad he was with us rather then be at that hospital. From what I heard, the hospital was one of the worst places to be. I felt that being in that damn city was the worst place to be, no matter what area you were stuck in. That's only what I had heard though…"

June 23rd

6:47 P.M.

"Paging Doctor Hamilton, paging Doctor Hamilton. You are needed in the OR." The woman's voice on the other end of the intercom was vaguely familiar and at the present moment George Hamilton did not care in the least. It had been a very long day and he was beyond exhausted.

George was resting in his leather arm chair inside of his homey office. He had taken several paintings and pictures from his home to decorate the walls of the room. There was a bookshelf to the desks left filled with medical volumes on the top and middle shelf. The bottom shelf nearest the floor was filled with books of poetry and novels written by H.G. Wells as well as plays by Shakespeare.

No more then a minute had passed when he was paged again. His eyes were dry and blood shot and he had worked like a dog all day. What made it worse was his shift was technically almost over. From the looks of it on the other hand, it was just starting to warm up.

The door to his office opened and in came an Indian man with a thick mustache, who wore a long white coat and dress slacks. He also wore a yellow button down shirt and a pale red tie. Before the man said anything George rolled his head back and sighed.

"I know, I know. I am going now, Hursh," George muttered as he rose up from his seat.

Hursh put his hands up and motioned him back down into his seat. "Don't worry about it, George. I sent Ethan to go in your place. You can go home if you want. It's been a hard day," he said as he approached George and sat in one of the two chairs before the desk, which were far less comfortable then George's chair.

The news Hursh had brought did not give him any sense of relief. "Ethan, you said? I wouldn't trust leaving Ethan to properly examine a cadaver," George said flatly.

With a grin, Hursh crossed his legs and leaned closer to George. "That's exactly why I'll stay behind tonight too. Go home and get some rest George."

Wasting no time at all, George replied. "No. That would mean you've been on call the last day and a half, Hursh. If anyone should be going home, it's you."

Hursh waved his hand as if he had dismissed what George had said. "I'll stay behind for now, George. I would like to ask a small favor of you, though."

With a reluctant nod, George agreed. He knew that arguing with Hursh about the topic was going to be in vain. When Hursh made up his mind, he was as stubborn as an ox. "Yeah, sure. What is it?"

"My wife would like you to stop by next weekend for dinner. You are either here working or at your home by yourself. It wouldn't hurt to interact with people on occasion you know," Hursh said with a grin stretching across his face.

George shrugged and nodded again. "I know, you tell me all the time I need to get out more. And Hursh, don't get me wrong, I love your wife. She is a great woman, but my God, what an awful cook," he said half joking, though on the other hand half serious.

"Exactly my point. I don't have to be forced to 'indulge' myself with second servings or leftovers," Hursh replied. There was a moment of silence before both men erupted with laughter.

"I didn't mean for that to sound that offensive," George gasped between laughs.

Hursh continued laughing whole heartedly waving his hand as he too gasped for breath. "I know. I know… But it's so true." George and Hursh laughed even harder filling the office with a wide variety of squeaks, wheezes and huffs.

After a minute had passed, both men regained their composure and returned to their seemingly normal yet sophisticated selves. George wiped away some tears and he nodded to himself.

"You're right, Hursh. I do need to get out and try and socialize more often. It's just… I don't know. The job is so demanding and I don't know how you manage to have a beautiful wife and put up with this nonsense," George whispered finally, meaning every word he spoke.

Silence filled the room for a full minute before either man said another word. "Well sometimes you need to set up priorities, George. Life has more to it then just work, believe it or not," Hursh replied just as quietly with as much sincerity as George had.

There was another silence that filled the room as the two men sat there, deep in thought. Suddenly a piercing voice came over the intercom. It was the same woman as before.

"Paging Doctor Hursh, paging Doctor Hursh. You are needed in the O.R."

As Hursh rose from his seat, George stood as well. "Thank you, Hursh. It's always a pleasure speaking with you," he said as he extended his hand.

Hursh gripped Georges hand firmly and nodded. "Anytime." He walked towards to door of the office and rested his hand on the golden knob and turned to face George. "You should come out with me and Issac. I know you're not a big golfer but at least you'd be out, right?"

"Maybe I will," he said as Hursh opened the door and disappeared into the hospital hallways. "Maybe I will…"

June 25th

2:04 P.M.

"Hey! Are you listening to me, Chapman?" Heff Jones screamed, directing all his anger towards the subway attendant. Jim Chapman found himself on the verge of yawning though he knew that would only prolong his stay in Mr. Jones' office which he would much rather avoid if at all possible.

"Are you stupid? Are you deaf? Do you not hear me?" he continued, trying to evoke a reaction that Jim knew would get him fired.

"No sir, I hear you loud and clear. I just don't see what the problem is," Jim said regretting it almost instantly.

Heff blinked with his mouth ajar in utter amazement. He straightened himself standing at a towering six foot five inches. Heff's gaze was unflinching and his upper lip twitched under his mustache. "The problem is that you cursed off an old woman in front of management. Not to mention you flipped off those same management personnel."

Jim shrugged. "How was I supposed to know that they were a part of management? They weren't in uniform or nothin," he said almost smiling now.

Heff clenched his jaw and his somewhat pudgy face turned beat red. "That's the whole point you jackass! To catch people like you in the act when they think no one is looking!" he screamed, spitting all over himself and Jim.

With a look of disgust, Jim wiped some of his bosses spit from his eye in an exaggerated movement. "That was nasty, man. Really fuckin nasty."

Not letting another second elapse, Heff screamed more incoherently pointing towards his office door. Jim could vaguely make out the words, "Get out." He actually tried his best not to discern anything else the man was yelling about. What he could not miss on the other hand was Heff spitting everywhere as he continued his temper tantrum.

Jim exited the monitoring office and made a left and walked down the narrow and dirty hallway. He passed two 'T' intersections along with some other subway attendants and turned to his left to face the employee locker room. He opened the door and entered the disorderly room and made his way over to his locker on the adjacent wall. Jim entered the combination to the locker door and then immediately slammed it shut.

"Hey Jim, you okay man?" Tyler asked from the bunks on the opposite side of the room.

"Pfft, yeah. But that bitch Jones doesn't know shit bout nothin man. The fool is just trying to keep a brother down," Jim said staring at his locker.

There was a grunt from the other side of the room. "Yeah well, I'm no brother but I hear ya. Give a piece of refried crap like him some power; he will walk all over everyone."

Jim smiled and nodded. "Yeah, but he's still a bitch no matter what anyone says. Man, if that sucka wasn't white, I'd beat his ass without the fear of cops beatin my ass. That dick," Jim said playfully. No matter how much he hated Jones and wanted to lash out against him, Jim found that he could not.

There was another grunt from the bunks just past a second row of lockers. There was a loud creak of old springs as if someone had got up from one of the bunks. Then there was a shuffling sound of feet dragging on the floor and they continued to grow louder until his friend appeared from behind the other row of lockers.

Tyler was older then Jim by about six years, though he looked and moved like he was at least thirty years older. Tyler rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Don't let him get to you. That's what he wants. He wants you to lose your cool and say or do something stupid so you can get pinched. Beat him at his own game and don't give in. Just take it. Sooner or later he'll be the one to slip up and you could nab him then," he said reassuringly.

Jim turned to face Tyler and shook his head. "See man, that bullshit attitude won't get you no where man. If I had my nine…" he said trailing off and made a mock gun with his thumb and pointer finger. With a smile, Jim pretended to fire his gun repeatedly.

"If you had your 'nine' what?" Tyler repeated. "That's what I'm talking about. That's the 'bullshit' attitude that'll get you in trouble. Not only with Heff, either. That could be taken as a threat to someone's life man." With a sigh, Tyler patted Jim's shoulder. "Well look on the bright side, you got a beautiful Raccoon Subway Attendant uniform," he said with a grin.

Jim pushed Tyler away in a friendly playful manner. "Please… This shit sucks man. I'd rather be… well… maybe not," he said cutting off his own train of thought.

Tyler cocked an eyebrow, curious as to what Jim had been previously thinking. "Rather be what?"

Jim shook his head and held a serious expression on his face. "Naw man, it would be better if you didn't hear it," he said with a small grin creeping up at the corner of his mouth.

"Come on man, its cool. Tell me," Tyler said trying to press the topic.

With a hesitant nod, Jim leaned in closer to Tyler. "I'd rather be bangin your momma then have to wear this shit. You know what they say, 'once you go black, you never go back," he said with a strange but joking face.

"Oh man, that's just wrong," Tyler replied smiling and then proceeded to push Jim into his locker and threw a few light punches. Jim curled up and burst out laughing.

"Wait man. Wait, hold up" he said in a desperate attempt to stop Tyler's playful attacks.

Tyler stopped and let Jim go. "What is it? Do I hear that Jim Chapman just got bitched?"

"Nah dawg, but your momma is into some freaky shit man. Real freaky shit," Jim said pushing Tyler away from him laughing hysterically.

Tyler made a soured expression. "That's beyond wrong dude."

Jim could only muster a smile for a moment. "Yeah, but you know me man. I'm a lover not a fighter." Again, Jim was sent into a laughing fit, pointing at Tyler this time.

"That'll make it easier for me to make you a bitch, bitch," Tyler replied with a grin. "Anyway, you going to that thing Sarah's having tonight?"

Not sure what to say, Jim gave a low grunt. "I could I guess man, but I don't know." Jim turned back to face is locker and opened it again.

Tyler took a few steps back, somewhat shocked. "You don't know? The party boy doesn't know? Come on man, you know you want to go."

Jim turned his head to face Tyler with a saddened expression. "I want to, I do. I just want to go somewhere with my life. I mean, I don't wanna be stuck workin this subway all my life. I wanna move away, see another place. I don't wanna be stuck here my whole life."

There was an awkward silence in the employee bunk room. Neither man moved nor said anything for a full minute. "I hear ya. Do what you gotta do," Tyler said in an understanding manner. "But my mom will be there."

"Ha. Then you know I'm there. But seriously, I think I'm gonna pass. Thanks for the invite though, bro," Jim said surprising Tyler as much as himself.

Tyler nodded with the slightest of grins. "Okay. The offer is still on the table if you change your mind," he replied as he removed his subway cap from his back pocket and placed the worn hat on his head. He then moved towards the door Jim had come in from and exited the room.

I better get out of this damn city or I swear to God I'll end up dying here.

Jim closed his locker again with a sigh. He again stared at the locker not sure what he had been looking for in the first place. "Time to get to work, Mr. Chapman," he said in a mocking voice of Heff Jones. He removed his cap and ran his hand through his bleach blonde hair and sighed. Jim shook his head and put his cap back on and left the room as well.