Hey everyone! Long time, no update! I'm trying to upload all the stuff I hand wrote! My creative juices are flowing. Enjoy the chapter and review! I do not own any of the The Walking Dead!
Chapter 28:
The car rumbled softly as Shane, Kris, and Otis drove to the local nursing home. Kris sat in the middle with his hands grasping his kneecaps. He was terrified. Shane glanced away from the road to look at the young doctor. It bothered him that this chicken shit doctor was his only hope. …Carl's only hope. Otis sat with his shotgun in his lap, looking out the window in a morose silence. Shane kept one hand on the steering wheel as his other rubbed his mouth, a slight panic rising in his chest then ebbing away slowly. Shane then rested his arm on the door, his elbow sitting in the wind.
Night had fallen upon them as they pulled into the parking lot, a barb wired fence barricaded the remaining lot and the nursing home. Before Shane could formulate a plan his questions were answered, seeing a hole cut into the fence no more than twenty yards away.
Otis opened the car door and Kris sat in utter disbelief as he gazed upon mangled and heat-abused corpses, bumping into each other with thousand mile stares. Shane noticed and spoke, "This will be quick. Get into the FEMA truck, get what we need, and get the hell outta here".
"You make it sound easy," Kris announced in disbelief.
"'Cuz it is," Shane said, not truly believing it but knowing he had to convince the doctor otherwise.
"The bleeding is slowing down but she's still oozing," Patricia said as she lifted her bloodied hands from Blake's stained skin. Glenn watched on in horror, wishing he could feel her hand squeeze his in return. One tear trickled down his dirty cheek. He quickly wiped it away as he heard the brunette girl once again.
"What can I do," she asked.
"Nothing at the moment, sugar," Patricia said, her focus on Blake's wound, sweat glittering her brow. "She's still bleeding but it's just starting to slow down. It was a through-and-through. How's the boy?" Glenn turned his head immediately to the cowgirl, wanting to hear how Carl was doing.
"He's not doin' too good, his father wasn't either but his wife seems to have calmed him down. He bled out a lot 'n just got over a seizure. We need that medical equipment or we'll lose him," she said dejectedly, avoiding Glenn's eyes.
"Goodness," Patricia said, her face looking concerned, either for the little boy and his family or her husband's guilt if they lose him….maybe even both.
"They'll get here," Glenn said, his eye lids getting a little heavy from giving blood.
"Maggie, get him some orange juice," Patricia said, eyeing the Korean boy beside the bed with his one hand in his friends and the other squeezing a baseball cap.
"We can't lose anyone else," he said quietly, staring at Blake's bloody wound as he fought exhaustion.
"Here," the brunette said as she gave Glenn the cold glass, "I'm Maggie, you let me know if you need more," she said, giving him a sad smile. Glenn took the drink.
"Thank you," he began, "for the, uh, juice of course but for finding us. We needed to be here for them. Thank you for going out there," he finished, taking a sip of the cold orange juice.
"Of course," she said, placing her soft hand on his shoulder before turning to Patricia. "What do you need?"
"Another towel, honey," Patricia said, exhaustion clear in her voice. Keeping pressure on the wound she looked at the window, "Where are you, Otie?" she whispered.
Things had taken a turn for the worst very quickly. They had successfully gathered up the necessary medical equipment for the wounded and now they were being surround by the living dead. Shane was internally berating himself for getting caught up in this situation. He had to push those thoughts aside for now because the three-man group was in desperate need of an escape route and there was a little boy in desperate need of proper medical equipment. Shane took in their surroundings as Otis shot down a few walkers. Kris was frozen, being smart enough to not run off on his own. Shane caught site of the nursing home entrance, which was currently being guarded by a gate…in that moment the gate was good enough.
"This way," Shane yelled, running toward their possible safe haven. The group hurried along, poor Otis a few steps behind due to his weight and lack of stamina. Neither Shane nor Kris was winded as they approached the fence, sliding their bodies through the slightly cracked open gate. When Otis finally stumbled in Shane slammed the gate shut, his stomach crashing into his gut when he noticed that the lock was broken.
"Shit!" Shane hissed. Kris had his body pressed firmly against the glass door, his body stiff as a board. It was like he was trying to melt into the glass door as the dead approached the fence, slamming their decaying and broken fingers against the chain-link gate. Shane leaned up against the glass as well, his heart racing and his breathing picking up dramatically as he stared into the cloudy eyes of the dead. The smell of the walkers were making his eyes water, his gag reflex acting up as his lungs tried to breath in the thick, putrid air.
"There's only one way out," Otis said between pants, his hands sitting on his knees as his shotgun sat against the glass. He was hunched over but managed to nod his head toward Shane's pistol. Shane knew exactly what he was saying. Shoot the glass doors. Shane knew he was right and nodded back to him. This was the only way out…but the chances of elderly folk already being dead inside was likely.
Kris' heart was pounding a sickening rhythm. His body shook with sheer adrenaline and fear. Otis was now silent as he stared at the ravenous dead, watching as they snapped their rotting jaws open and close. Kris looked at the dead as well, their eyes seeming so human but demonic as their need to feed escalated at the sight of fresh meat. Images of what he had seen before the global outbreak plagued his sight. "No, no, no," he said, shaking his head and closing his eyes, willing himself to calm down.
Shane looked at his team, wondering if there was anyway they could escape without attracting any more walkers in the immediate area. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. He turned and pulled at the glass doors, hoping that maybe they were unlocked. He once again kicked himself for panicking to the point he didn't check whether the door was unlocked or not. They both ended up being locked. Shane pulled as hard as he could, hoping eventually the locks would break. He pulled one last time, the doors creaking and riling up the walkers even more.
Shane looked over at Kris, "Help, man! Pull that door and I'll pull this one". Kris stood in a trance, mumbling nothings to himself that Shane couldn't decipher. "Kris!" Shane yelled. The young doctor remained silent, his already white face paler than normal. Shane gripped the doctor's shirt and shoved him against the wall. Kris finally got his eyes focused on him. "We'll get outta here, man. I just need your help and your focus," he yelled. Shane was interrupted when he heard pops along the brick where the gate was attached. Shane's fear spiked again at the realization that the gate was about to cave in.
"Fuck," he yelled, dropping his hands from the taller man's shirt. "We have no more time for this," he yelled as he took his gun out of his waistband and aimed it at the door. "We have no choice," he muttered to himself. He gritted his teeth, took a deep breath and shot one bullet through the glass, immediately kicking in the remaining shards before stepping through, peering around the dark lobby. He heard the others quickly come through the broken door, spinning in circles to check the darkness of the lobby and the dead about to crash through.
"We need to find a way through the back and cut around the property," Otis said while Shane led them down a dark hallway. "There's an emergency exit on the west side of the building. If they get through or hopefully find a way to be distracted inside then we can cut right back to the front. We just need to hope we aren't cut off," Otis said, his breathing evening out as they slowly made their way down the hallway, keeping their eyes peeled for any threats. "It's not much further from here".