27: Hospital Drama

Jack wasn't feeling very well. He hadn't wanted to say anything, in case he alarmed the others, but not long after having being wounded, he'd started feeling extremely ill.

It wasn't so much the feeling itself that bothered him, although it was far from pleasant - what really unnerved him was the growing suspicion in the back of his mind.

His head ached, he felt faint and nauseous, and his injured arm was sore and swollen. Most disturbingly of all, the wound was starting to itch. It was perhaps inevitable that his thoughts turned to the T-Virus, and the symptoms of those infected by it.

Itching. Hunger. Sickness, vomiting, headaches and tiredness. He remembered the infected beggar's plaintive cries that he was itchy and hungry; Aunt Rosa's look of utter exhaustion, and her frantic coughing. His aunt hadn't lived much longer, and presumably neither had the beggar.

'M I dyin'? Jack wondered. I gonna be a zombie too, soon? Like Auntie, an' my amigos from the Street Rats? Please, God, no… dunt let me turn into a zombie… I dunt wanna die…

His silent torment was briefly interrupted when his stomach rumbled. He was hungry – and his heart sank even further. Another symptom. Now he was convinced he was going to die. He wondered how long he had left…

Only when he looked at his watch did he realise how late it was: it was now 10:36 p.m. It suddenly occurred to Jack that he hadn't eaten properly all day – after what he'd seen on the breakfast news that morning, he hadn't been able to finish his cereal, and all he'd eaten since then was a bar of chocolate, early on in the afternoon.

So perhaps it wasn't surprising that he was hungry. Another thought struck him: maybe he was all right after all. The headache and tiredness could be the result of low blood sugar, or maybe just ordinary tiredness – it was getting late, too, and he'd been through a lot since he woke up that morning.

Jack's spirits lifted. Of course he was tired; anyone would be, under these circumstances! The sickness could be the result of delayed shock – God only knew he'd had more than his fair share of that today – or possibly because his stomach was so very empty. He hadn't actually been sick, either, so that was reassuring.

And the itching? Well, perhaps the bandage on his arm was rubbing against the wound, or something like that. And didn't open wounds itch anyway? Healing scars did, he knew that; his aunt had once complained of that, after she'd cut her hand trying to open a can of soup and had the wound stitched up. So perhaps that explained it.

So I be okay after all, thought Jack. Gonna be just fine. 'S all in my head…

Reassured by this thought, he allowed himself to relax a little.

By now Christina had climbed through the fence and was standing on the sidewalk next to him.

"There," she said, with a glance at Lisa. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Sure," said Amber, with a saccharine-sweet smile. "If you don't count seeing Kermit's evil cousin jump out of nowhere and swallow that guy whole, everything was just peachy."

Jack was starting to get fed up with Christina and Amber's verbal catfights. He let his thoughts wander as the shouting started, only to be brought back to earth again when somebody tugged urgently at his sleeve.

It was Lisa.

"Jack," she said anxiously, "Jack, I think I just saw someone over there."

"What? Where?" said Jack.

"Over there…" said Lisa.

She pointed at the hospital, which was just across the street. From this distance Jack could just make out something huddled in the doorway; it looked like a person crouched low on the floor, holding something in their arms.

Amber and Christina were still squabbling, and Renée was far too busy trying to keep the peace to even notice Jack and Lisa crossing the street.

Drawing closer to the hospital, they saw that they were right. There was a person sitting in the doorway of the hospital - a young man with dark hair. His clothes were soaked with blood, but he was still breathing, and he looked up at their approach.

The face was very familiar…

"Madre de Dios," gasped Jack. "Marco? That be you?"

"Jack… didn't know you were still alive, bro," said Marco. His face was ashen, and he spoke slowly, as if in a trance.

"What happened, Marco?" Lisa asked him.

"My brother's dead," said Marco, seemingly oblivious to the question. "I think everyone is."

"I know. I see him a while ago," said Jack. "'M sorry, Marco."

"Antonio saved my life, man," said Marco. "They'd have got me if he hadn't tried to stop 'em. They got him instead. Now he's one of 'em."

"He be dead now, bro," said Jack. "Really dead. He ain't a zombie no more."

For the first time since the start of the conversation, the words actually seemed to register with Marco. He breathed out, and seemed to relax slightly.

"Least he's restin' in peace now."

"Yeah," said Jack, not knowing what else to say.

Marco took a deep breath. By the look of things, he was having to put more and more effort into each sentence.

"Batman's dead too. He lives across the street from me… I saw him jump out the window to get away from those things. He landed okay, but then… there were more zombies down below…"

Marco coughed, and Jack felt his blood chill. Aunt Rosa had coughed just like that, and two days later she was dead. Though by the looks of things, Marco would be fortunate to survive that long. Almost every inch of clothing was dark and sticky with blood.

"Columbine be dead too," said Jack.

"I know… I saw her die. What about the others? Did… did they get away?"

"The others?" said Lisa.

"Roland, Ritchie, Almond, Mitch, Raphael," said Marco. "Did they make it?"

"I see Roland and Ritchie in downtown, a few blocks over from the record store," said Jack. "An' I see Mitch not long after that. They all be dead. I ain't seen Almond or Raphael."

Marco closed his eyes.

"What happen to Maddy an' Eduardo, an' Tiffany?" Jack asked him.

"Tiffany's dead," said Marco thickly. "Killed herself. Found a gun next to some dead cop an' shot herself in the head before we could stop her."

"Maddy?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her for days. Nobody has."

"An' Eduardo?"

"He was with Alena an' me when we got attacked by a zombie. Eduardo was the only one who didn't get hurt. No answer from 911. We managed to make it here, an' Eduardo went in to find a doctor… he never came back. I don't think he made it."

Jack peered into the hospital through the plate-glass doors; the lights were off and there were dead bodies all over the reception area. It looked as if the doctor was definitely out.

"I dunt think so either," said Jack quietly.

"I heard screams… horrible screams," said Marco. "I wanted to go inside an' find out what happened to him, but Alena was dyin'… I couldn't leave her, Jack. I couldn't let her die here all alone."

For the first time, Jack and Lisa's eyes travelled down to the thing that Marco was holding in his arms. From afar it had looked like a bundle of clothes, maybe a rucksack, but now they could see what it really was.

Cradled in his arms, like a baby, was Alena. Like Marco, she too was covered in blood – or at least, her clothes were. They couldn't see what kind of state Alena herself was in, as her face was pressed tightly against Marco's chest. However, it didn't look good. Her dark dreadlocks were matted together with blood, and presumably the rest of her wasn't in much better shape.

Lisa leaned in for a closer look, but Marco clutched Alena's body protectively, as if afraid that someone would try and take her away.

"No… don't…"

"Marco, it's okay, I won't hurt her," said Lisa. "Just - "

"No," said Marco slowly, shaking his head. "You don't wanna look at her. Trust me."

"Is she…?" Lisa began, but couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.

Marco nodded.

"Yeah. She's dead. She knew what was happenin' to her, an' she… she begged me to do it…"

At this point Lisa had to turn away. Marco's tortured expression was becoming unbearable to watch, and she couldn't stand looking into those haunted eyes any longer.

"She ask you to kill her?" said Jack.

"I didn't want to, Jack, but I… I had to… I swear I had to!" said Marco, sounding almost hysterical. "I couldn't let her turn into a zombie! Alena was like a sister to me… we grew up together… I had to do it!"

"'S okay, Marco," said Jack, trying not to look shaken by the outburst. He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know you hadda do it. Now Lise an' I gonna help you. We got somebody who know some medicine, an' she can fix you up real good - "

But Marco shook his head.

"No. No. It's too late, Jack. I'm done for. I'd have shot myself too, but there weren't enough bullets left. Only one. An' she was in so much pain, she was bleedin' to death, I had to help her…"

"I know," said Jack.

"Jack, please," gasped Marco, clutching at Jack's sleeve and making Jack almost jump out of his skin with fright. "You gotta help me…"

Lisa turned round. Christina and Amber weren't shouting any more, but they looked like they were just inches away from killing each other, and Renée, thrust unwillingly into the role of peacekeeper, was looking flustered.

"Renée!" Lisa shouted.

Renée looked only too relieved to be excused from refereeing Amber and Christina's grudge match, and she hurried over at once.

"What is – oh…"

Renée had just seen Marco, covered with blood and clutching a dead body. Professionalism soon took over her initial shock, however, and she began examining Marco.

"Well you've certainly been through the wars," said Renée, trying to make light of the situation. "Haven't you, Mr… uh, what's your name?"

It was a moment before Marco answered.

"Marco… Marco Alvarez," he said weakly.

"What did this, Marco?" Renée asked him. "Dogs, zombies…?"

"… Zombie…"

"When?" Her tone was suddenly sharper, more urgent.

"I… I'm not… don't know…"

"This morning? This afternoon? Tonight? Think, Marco."

"Afternoon…"

Jack and Lisa suddenly realised why Renée sounded so concerned. Marco was starting to look and sound confused, and it was taking longer and longer for him to reply. Simple questions required a lot of thought, and his responses were rapidly degenerating into short one- or two-word replies - not yet monosyllabic, but well on the way there.

As Renée continued talking to Marco, Lisa and Jack exchanged a look.

"Zombie?" Lisa mouthed.

"No yet," Jack mouthed back. "But he gonna be soon."

Marco's eyes were starting to glaze over a little, but he tried hard to focus on Renée.

"Tell me…" he said, apparently with some difficulty. "Am… am I gonna die?"

Renée opened her mouth; Jack and Lisa were expecting her to give the standard response of "No, of course not, you're going to be just fine", and for a moment it seemed that she would, but then Renée appeared to decide against it. She opted for an honest answer instead.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Marco, but there's nothing I can do for you. There's too much damage here. You're going to die. And by the looks of things, that's only going to be the start of your problems."

Marco didn't look at all surprised.

"Infected?" he said, presumably referring to himself.

Renée nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Jack?" said Marco. "Help me… please…"

Jack leaned forward, and took his friend's bloodstained hand. He held it in his hands and clutched it tightly, for what little comfort and reassurance it would bring Marco.

"Tell me what I gotta do, an' I do it," said Jack solemnly.

Once again, Marco's body was racked with the horrible coughs that signalled an early death by T-Virus infection.

"Please… kill me…" he managed to gasp.

The blood drained away abruptly from Jack's face, and his mouth dropped open in horror.

"No way," said Jack, shaking his head furiously. "No way I gonna kill an amigo."

"Then… give me a gun, I'll… do it myself…"

"No," Jack protested. "That be no diff'rent from me doin' it."

"Here, kid, allow me," said a voice right behind them.

Jack and Lisa turned round to see who was speaking, just in time to see Christina take out her handgun and point it at Marco.

"No!" yelled Jack, as her finger curled around the trigger -

Too late. Blood spattered the hospital's glass doors and the wall behind Marco.

For a moment Marco looked surprised, then he slumped sideways and hit the ground, Alena's body still in his arms.

There was a moment of terrible silence.

"Oh, God…" said Lisa in a very small voice. Renée sat there, still staring at the spot where Marco had drawn his final breath. And Jack…

"You," he growled.

"Yes, me. And?" said Christina, arching an eyebrow.

"An' that be my friend you just shoot dead, you bitch!" yelled Jack, and launched himself at Christina.

He was so angry that he'd completely forgotten that he was attacking someone with a gun in her hand, and things might have gone very badly for Jack if Amber and Renée hadn't managed to restrain him in time.

"Let me go!" bawled Jack, struggling to break free. "I gonna kill that bitch just like she kill my friend!"

"Oh no you're not," said Amber firmly. "Killing people is wrong. That's one thing they were very definite about back in the academy. If you kill Corporal Ardizzone, I'll have to arrest you. That means I'll have to drag your sorry ass back to the RPD, and since the whole place is crawling with zombies, I really don't want to have to do that. Okay?"

Jack wasn't putting up much of a fight now, except possibly with his emotions; he looked as if he was about to cry.

"She – she just shoot Marco…"

"It was wrong, I know, but she did it for the right reasons, Jack," said Amber gently. "Would you have let your friend turn into a zombie?"

Tears were rolling down Jack's cheeks. He shook his head.

"No… I never would… but I would try an' save him…"

"You couldn't have saved him, Jack," Amber told him. "Nobody could have. He was going to die anyway, and he knew it. He just wanted to die quickly, with dignity and a good friend at his side. That was why he asked you to help him die in peace."

"How can you say that? When you just tell me that it be wrong to kill somebody? How can you say that?" sobbed Jack.

"It's not right to kill anybody. But in some cases it can be the lesser of two evils," said Amber.

Jack was still crying.

"Hey, you're a good kid, Jack," Amber told him, putting an arm around his shoulders for reassurance. "And I understand. It's not easy, making decisions like that. I don't blame you for not wanting to choose how Marco died. But you don't have to worry about it any more. He's gone to a better place now."

Wherever he's gone, it's got to be better than here, she added in the privacy of her own mind.

"Don't cry, Jack," put in Renée. "Just be glad he's free. No more fear, no more pain, no more zombies. He's safe from that."

Jack sniffed, and wiped his eyes. "Yeah."

Meanwhile, Lisa had been watching Christina closely as the little drama had unfolded. All the while, Christina had barely showed even a flicker of emotion – as always, nothing seemed to bother her or affect her in any way. Lisa wondered what had happened in Christina's life to make her so jaded, so aloof. What could possibly happen that could deaden someone to the world like that?

She didn't know. She wasn't sure if she wanted to, either. Whatever it was, it must have been something terrible.

Christina stiffened suddenly; she'd heard something.

"What?" said Lisa.

"I hear frogs," said Christina sharply. "We need to leave. Now."

"I didn't hear a thing," said a sceptical-looking Amber, but after listening for a moment or two, she agreed that she could hear something too, and conceded that it might be a good idea to leave fairly promptly.

As one, they started to hurry away, but then Lisa heard something emerge from the bushes on the other side of the park fence – and a loud thud indicating that the something had landed on the sidewalk. Despite her better judgement, she stopped and turned around, wanting to see what it was.

There was a giant frog-creature squatting on the sidewalk outside the park. With an almighty leap, it jumped right across the street and landed neatly outside the entrance of the hospital. It hopped towards the bodies of Marco and Alena in the doorway, eyed them for a moment, then opened its mouth wide…

"Lisa!" hissed Amber, and Lisa found herself being grabbed by the hand. Suddenly grateful for the distraction, Lisa allowed herself to be led away from the grisly sight of two corpses being swallowed whole by an oversized frog, and she and Amber hurried around the corner and after their companions.

Christina, Renée and Jack were leaning against a nearby wall; they straightened up expectantly at Lisa and Amber's approach.

"Giant frog-creature?" said Christina.

Amber nodded.

"I thought as much," said the mercenary. "Well, we're almost there. Umbrella HQ is not far from here – now we need to go round the clock tower, take a right into Warren Street, and then the second left, and we're there. Then - "

She was interrupted by a scream and several bursts of gunfire. It was coming from inside the clock tower.

"Wasn't that an assault rifle I just heard?" said Amber, frowning.

Christina and Renée glanced uneasily at each other, then at the imposing bulk of St Michael's Clock Tower.

"Change of plan," said Christina suddenly, and she looked up at the clock tower again. "We're going in…"