A quick and most likely unnecessary memo: I don't remember the span of time between Greene putting Dana in a coma and Alex rescuing Dana, so after some deliberation I decided it would only be a few days for the sake of my sanity. I also haven't been in a hospital in awhile; please prepare for me to gloss over things I know shit about.
YOUR REVIEWS MADE ME SMILE. Like these big, beaming smiles. You guys are awesome. Thank you. Sorry for this bullshit update speed; I chose a stupid time to start writing. My job's hours are insane and I'm at two(!) community colleges weekly, so have limited time for everything right now. Hopefully that'll clear up sooner rather than later...
Carrying Dana without jostling her was more difficult than he'd thought; he was used to abrupt take-offs and changing directions on a whim, and as such he'd had to recalculate and eventually discard the idea of using most of his routes. Getting to the outskirts of Manhattan had taken almost twenty minutes as opposed to a normal ten.
The air was sharp and cool as he glided over to a low, two-story building. There was no movement on the streets below; everything was empty and silent. He knew from experience that it the area was a good vantage point; from the roof he'd take stock of his surroundings and figure out where his next move would be.
When he landed, he felt unexplainably uneasy.
Distantly, he heard a voice bellow the word fire-
-the military had pulled out of central Manhattan, yes, but that didn't mean that they were gone from the outer parts, because that would've been downright fucking insane, the majority of Infected were literally crawling to get out of the city, the virus was still, he was still-
-he jumped back and snarled as bullets tore through his legs, leaving behind ragged tunnels as deep red blobs mimicking tissue splattered across the flat rooftop. The wounds quickly patched themselves over with a muted sting.
"Fucking," he began, but was cut short by another barrage of bullets. With a thought, he expanded biomass to cover Dana, and maneuvered her away so that her body was completely shielded from enemy fire. Alex focused on increasing the density of his biomass until the bullets began ricocheting off of a dark layer of armor. Moving to the edge of the roof to assess the situation, he peeked over only to quickly backpedal as a missile whistled by inches past his ear.
He quickly added another extra layer of biomass over Dana before the missile exploded twenty feet above their heads, unleashing a tsunami of blistering heat. With nowhere to go but down, he held his sister tighter and tipped over the edge.
The pavement cracked under the force of their landing. A sharp hiss had Alex jerking his head up as a canister flew over their heads, releasing a thick trail of red smoke. It settled over them in a thick fog; the smoke was something almost tangy and far, far more bitter than normal. As it clouded his vision, he could feel it begin to irritate his biomass. Without warning, the pain sharply increased as a thin layer of biomass began to peel away. A new kind of bloodtox?
Bullets continued to ricochet off his back. If the military continued with normal SMAFU protocol, there were more missiles and a small legion of tanks on the way. Uncurling, Alex launched himself out of the crater he'd created and onto the fourth story of a nearby building, a slew of enemy fire following in an arc. Reforming his hand and leg into more useful tentacles, he clung to the brick face and waited for the tanks. After four of Dana's heartbeats Alex leapt for the leading vehicle. He landed heavily, knocking it back, and opened the latched metal trap door with minimal effort. He heard a trooper hiss a distraught Oh, fuck.
The slaughter was hurried and messy and would have been more enjoyable if he wasn't pressed for time.
He laid Dana out in one of the seats and gently tugged her hood over her head. The controls were drenched in blood; he absorbed a spray of red off of a display screen with a swipe of his hand, reading the output with a practiced eye.
It was time to move.
Exiting the central part of Manhattan was the easy part, he thought as he slowed the tank down to a crawl. He edged around Dana, propped open the door and peered out. It was quiet. Birds were chirping, the sky was blue and the surrounding area was empty… it seemed to be clear.
Withdrawing his armor and tentacles, he propped Dana in a fireman's carry and exited the tank, dropping lightly to the ground. Their position was covered by trees. It looked like they were in a park of some kind, and the smell of gasoline and rubber accompanied the sounds of heavy traffic. This was the outskirts of his birthplace; he could tell that much by the evidence of life.
Dana continued to breathe.
Fifteen miles southeast, Ragland had said.
He repositioned Dana and trekked for the sidewalk, moving out from under the heavy canopy of leaves and taking a moment to assess his surroundings. It was far less industrialized here; there was a lot of greenery and a distinct lack of property damage. The buildings were not as run down, less sparse and not as tall. If used the rooftops, there was a possibility that he'd be spotted by security cameras or the humans walking the streets, even at this late hour. He frowned and made his way to a pickup parked near their location.
It took a car alarm and manually breaking a window before he realized that they'd be stuck in traffic for half an hour if he hotwired the vehicle.
He spun and sprinted for the nearest wall.
He'd risk the rooftops.
He felt a strange pang of something somewhere in his being when he realized the hospital wasn't as big as the one in Manhattan.
While it was dark and quiet outside, the inside of the ER was well lit and seemed very, very busy. As he stepped closer, the double doors slid open with a whoosh of cold, sterile air. Wincing, he looked around; rows of uncomfortable looking seats were filled with people in various states of duress; a pale woman with thinly pressed lips holding a broken arm. Across the room, a child wailed for its mother. He sidestepped a homeless man sacked out across the floor next to the entry, the stench of alcohol momentarily wiping out Alex's sense of smell. Out of everything the noise was the worst; it was almost deafening to his superior hearing.
Unsure where to go, Alex stood still in the sea of chaos. While his biomass had absorbed the mess that the troopers had left behind, Dana was still covered in drying blood, and some of the sticky mess had transferred back to Alex. In hindsight, he probably should have removed the evidence of the troopers' deaths, but at the moment it still wasn't his main priority. Hearing heavy footsteps heading for his direction, he turned his head towards the sound, keeping his eye on the man in blue scrubs that was hurrying over.
When the nurse was close, he reached for Dana's wrist and began checking for a pulse.
"How long has she been in unconscious?" Quicker than the human eye could perceive, the virus removed the nurse's hand and captured his wrist tightly, immobilizing it. He froze, and Alex could hear the human's heartbeat quickening in surprise.
"Dr. Marquez works here," the virus growled.
"Yes, but she might not be available." The virus gripped the nurse's wrist tighter. The man tensed in discomfort.
"Make her available."
"Sir-" Alex could hear the man's bones creaking under the pressure.
"Get. Marquez. Over. Here," Alex paused, and then added, "and bring a bed."
"Jesus, okay! Let go of me." The virus did so and the man backed up, eying Alex wearily. "Stay here." He watched the man disappear down the hallway, his dark scrubs easy to make out against the light walls.
A few minutes later, after he saw the nurse return with a woman in a lab coat. As they grew closer, Alex noted the new arrival had dark hair and a name tag that read Marquez, M.D. There were other abbreviations; the virus mentally wrote them off as irrelevant.
"I'm Marquez," she said, stepping over the drunk without preamble. "You asked for me?" Alex nodded. Marquez looked over Dana, then back at Alex. "I don't recognize either of you. Are you from the shelter?" The virus shook his head. He doubted she could see much of his face; he had pulled his hood lower, shadowed his face more and changed his jacket into something plainer. Blackwatch was on high alert, and it would hinder Dana's treatment if they saw Alex on any kind of grainy surveillance camera footage.
"Ragland recommended you." Marquez blinked. Two nurses wheeled a bed with white sheets over, and the doctor motioned him to deposit Dana onto it. He carefully set her down, and backed up as the doctor began rattling off instructions to two women wearing scrubs. One began hooking an IV. Alex watched the needle puncture the pale skin of his sister's arm with a frown, remembering that Dana hated needles.
The doctor turned back to Alex. "I haven't heard from him in awhile." Her tone was flat, but she didn't seem hostile at the mention of Ragland. An orderly passed by and handed ber a clipboard; she scribbled something down, tilting it away from Zues' prying eyes. "So what's with the blood?"
"It's not hers," he said, fingering the cuff of his new jacket. The liquid had dried, and it flaked off with a gentle brush. Flakes of it drifted to the pale linoleum floor.
"Good to know. Is it your upper abdomen?"
"No, it rubbed off on me." She frowned.
"Look," she said, drawling the vowels longer than strictly necessary. Alex couldn't help but be a little insulted; he wasn't slow. "You let this pass and you'll be waiting longer for treatment."
"I'm fine," Alex asserted flatly. Marquez turned away without another comment and continued barking commands at the medical assistants. Alex separated himself from the commotion, pacing himself to follow a few steps away as Dana was pushed and quickly directed towards one of the wings in the hospital.
The doctor slowed and situated herself next to Alex, clipboard at the ready. "What can you tell me about what occurred before she became comatose?"
"I don't know." Which was true, sort of. "Ragland didn't either."
"Yeah, well. Ragland isn't much of a doctor." She made a note, then tapped her pen twice. "How long has she been unconscious?"
"A few days." Marquez shook her head.
"She had medical attention, I hope?" she asked, although her body language suggested that she exprected a different answer. Alex weighed the possible responses before finally settling on something simple.
"We couldn't." Marquez raised an eyebrow.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"We were in the middle of a war zone," Alex grouched. "This was the closest open center." Zues heard her heart begin to pound and her breathing becoming quicker. Curious about the unexpected reaction, he looked over. Marquez was clutching the clipboard tight in a white-knuckled grip.
"Ragland, that bastard," she swore, her eyes wide. "You're from the middle of that hellhole, and he thought it was a smart to send you here? Why not a militarily quarantine?"
"…we're not on very good terms at the moment."
"Oh my god," she said faintly. "He wants me to help a felon." Before Alex could correct her, the doctor ran after the gurney. "Put the patient in quarantine unit, stat!"
"Doc, she's comatose," a nurse objected.
"I said Quarantine, Mitch," she spat. "Do your fucking job! I'm trying to prevent a pandemic, here." The nurse recoiled.
"You mean she's…?"
"Hey, she's not..." Alex said, moving to stop the doctor and explain further. Someone stepped in front of him and pressed their hands to his shoulders, forcing him to stop.
"Sir! You can't go over there." Seeing the glint of a security camera in the corner of the hall, he froze. No funny stuff, Dana's voice warned him as he pushed down the instinct to strike back. Marquez and Dana's dark head disappeared around a corner. Even though the surroundings were different, he still felt like he was ripping his arm off, slowly and painfully. Dana!
"I'm sorry, but you need to go to the waiting room," the security guard stated firmly, his voice fading into existence. Alex blinked, shoving the memory of Greene's kidnapping to the recesses of his mind.
"Get out of my way," Alex demanded. His silver eyes narrowed and mouth twisted in anger; the overhead lights were too strong and left spots in his vision. Or that was his rage. It was hard to tell.
"The doctor needs to give the green light before you can go in, I'm sorry." While the guard seemed genuinely regretful, Alex didn't like the answer. He scowled and brushed the man off, stepping aside instead of throwing him across the room like he wanted to.
"I'm following my sister."
"Look, you can't go over there." the double doors opened again, and Alex's vision tunneled in on the sight of Marquez stepping out into the hall. Alex brushed past the guard and stalked towards Dana's room. Marquez saw Alex's rigid stance and the burly security guard and sighed.
"Doctor Marquez," the man began. She waved him off.
"It's okay, Avery," she said tiredly. "I have some questions to ask him about the patient." As soon as the guard was out of earshot, Marquez pinned Alex with a harsh glare.
"Is she Infected?"
Sorry to leave it here. Updates will continue to fluctuate depending on school schedule.