Claire

"Time of Death, 7:35 am." says Doctor Hammond, glancing across the body of Mrs. Hernandez at Claire. Dr. Hammond looks grief-stricken. Claire can tell he's trying to hold himself together. After shadowing Dr. Hammond over the last couple of weeks, Claire's come to respect him. He was a fantastic doctor. Seeing him like this is unsettling. Dr. Hammond pushes his glasses up and says he's going to take this one down to the morgue himself since the morticians all left. Claire doesn't say anything, she just nods and watches him zip the body up into a body bag and wheel him out of the room. It's a rushed effort.

The CDC's statement regarding this virus insisted that all healthcare personnel are required to take any dead bodies to their morgue as fast as they can. Within sixty seconds, to be exact. Usually they took time cleaning and carefully preparing the bodies before shipping them downstairs, but not anymore. When Claire started her shift 12 hours ago, none of this was happening. It was going to be just another shift. But after about four hours into her shift, their Chief of Medicine announced to everyone the new CDC guidelines regarding the virus. And not long after that, their first patient with a bite showed up. It was a slow trickle at first; a bite victim would show up every half and hour or so, but since then they've had 24 victims with bites, and now 19 of them are dead.

They have to seal the bodies away in refrigerators and make sure they remain locked in sixty seconds. Dr. Hammond doesn't skip a beat, but Claire can tell he is disturbed by all of this. All of this, because... because they're coming back from the dead and attacking people... That is the part that really confuses her. She can't wrap he mind around it. Dr. Hammond told her to disregard that part, that the CDC must've worded it wrong, and that it's probably more like an aggressive version of the rabies virus. Of the 19 dead victims, Claire hasn't seen a single one "reanimate" and try to bite anyone... but they all had to have gotten their bites from somewhere. And they're human bites, not animal bites...

Claire follows Dr. Hammond out into the corridor where she hears screams of agony coming from one of the nearby rooms. She stares at the door in horror, backing away. A nurse rushes past her, yelling "Shit!" and bursts through the door. "It's going to be alright, sir, I got you."

Claire turns to look at Dr. Hammond but he's already gone with the body.

. . .

Claire walks by another room with a bite victim, a teenage boy whose hand was bitten. His family is with him, the mom sitting beside him stroking his hair, the dad standing by with his arms crossed, silently crying. When the boy first came in, he was fine. The bite wasn't as bad as some of the others she'd seen, but over the course of the last six hours or so... it progressively got worse. A lot worse. Now the boy is barely conscious, and his family is starting to panic. Every doctor on staff is trying to figure this virus out, and so far the conclusion is: A bite means almost certain death. Of the 25 people who'd come in, 6 were still alive, but all of them are showing the same symptoms that the ones who died showed...

And it's not just bite victims they have to worry about. There have been a shocking number of car accidents happening in the last four hours, and with news about the virus going public this morning, there's a lot of worried people bringing their children in to get them checked out. Claire is scared to go down to the ground floor where the chaos and the traffic of people is at it's most intense. I need a cigarette. I need to find David.

. . .

She finds him in another room not far from her's. David and his mentor, Dr. Harper, are with an injured man who was bitten on the forearm; Jeremy Clayton, Age 46. When Claire enters the room, Mr. Clayton is telling them about what happened to him, "I was walking my dog that morning when my neighbor attacked me, bit my arm like a crazy person." It was the same story they've all been hearing, but she still has a hard time believing that actual dead people are doing this. David is wrapping the wound with gauze while Dr. Harper gets him comfortable on some pain killers. David notices Claire and gives her a nervous smile, which she doesn't return, instead making it apparent with a look that she needs to talk to him.

"Is it bad? It feels bad." Mr. Clayton asks Dr. Harper.

"It'll be fine." Dr. Harper assures him.

"Are you sure? I... I can't move my fingers. They're numb. My whole arm feels numb."

"That's normal, we have you on some incredibly strong pain killers, Mr. Clayton, and we numbed the area around the bite."

"Am I going to be ok?"

"Yes." Dr. Harper isn't looking at him when he says this, instead he looks at David, who finishes wrapping the gauze. "Good, can you get a nurse in here for me, David? We're going to keep Mr. Clayton monitored at all times..."

"Monitored? Why am I being monitored?"

"It's just a precaution, don't worry about." Dr. Harper says with a reassuring smile.

David and Claire leave the room and immediately hug each other in the hallway. She breathes into his chest, resting her forehead against his chin. David says, "Claire, I'm scared."

"I'm fucking terrified." Claire whispers back. She takes her glasses off and buries her face into his chest. David is a first year intern like Claire, though he's been here six months longer than Claire has. At first she didn't want to work here, she wanted to move to Seattle so that she could be closer to her parents. But David convinced her to move to Brainerd instead, to not only move in together but to also work with him. They met in Medical School 2 years ago and started dating soon after. Claire loved him, and loved living with him and working with him... but right now she regrets her decision to work here. Ever since news of the Wildfire Virus broke, all she can think about is her parents and how worried she is about them. She even heard some of the nurses whispering to each other, and one of them said: "If you think this is bad, I hear Seattle's got it much worse right now."

As if he can read her mind, David asks, "Did your Dad ever call you back?"

"No. Neither of them have." Claire sniffs, pulling away and putting her glasses back on as a nurse wheeling a crying patient in a wheelchair with a broken ankle passes by them. "I don't know what to do, David. We've been here for over twelve hours now."

"I know..."

"Did you know that the morticians all left?"

"I heard. It's not just them. A few nurses and a couple surgeons left too. Said they needed to go be with their kids."

"Maybe... Maybe we should be thinking of doing the same." Claire suggests.

But the look on David's face makes it clear this isn't happening. "Claire, I don't think we need to go that far. I really don't. I know this is scary but packing up our shit and leaving would be an overreaction. Besides, they still need us here."

"David, I..." Claire wants to tell him how worried she really is, that she thinks this is, in fact, a big deal, and David being in denial about it isn't helping. "I'm worried about my parents. My mother's MS..."

David sighs and rubs his tired eyes. It's the first time she's noticed just how weary he looks. His sandy brown hair is disheveled, and the bags under his eyes are getting darker than usual. He looks like he doesn't know what to say at first, but then he says, "Just keep calling them. Look, they watch the news, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Then they'll know about this already and they'll know to stay inside. They'll be fine. We don't know how people are catching this thing, other than through bites, right? So as long as they stay inside and don't get bitten, I'm sure they'll be fine..."

Claire closes her eyes, sighs, and tries to calm down. He's right. He's right. He has to be. They'll be fine.

"I need a cigarette." She mutters.

David smiles, pulls out a pack of menthols, and holds one up for her.

. . .

There's six doctors and a few nurses in the break room, all sitting around the television, which is broadcasting live news updates. The first thing Claire hears when she enters the room is the female anchorwoman say: " - This Wildfire Virus is making it's rounds on social media. There's now hundreds of online accounts claiming that they have first hand experience dealing with infected people who have tried attacking them and, what's even stranger - biting them. There's people claiming that these people are acting rabid, like animals, when they attack."

"This is stupid propaganda." Says one of the nurses. "They're already villainizing these people."

"Shut up, I'm trying to hear." says one of the other nurses.

David tells one of them that Dr. Harper needs a nurse, and one of them leaves. Meanwhile the news anchorwoman continues, "Reports coming in from Seattle suggest that the hospitals have become over-crowded overnight, with patients being forced to wait in their vehicles, some of them having serious, life-threatening injuries." They show camera footage going through a dark parking lot packed with vehicles, passing by numerous injured people.

"That's going to be us soon." Says one of the doctors grimly.

They cut to an interview with a man who has several kids in his back seat. The man says he's been waiting for hours but nobody has come to get them. Claire's heart breaks at the sight of one of the kids in the back with a bloody arm wrapped up in a towel. David's right... I can't just leave. There's people that need help... This is what I signed up for. What was it all for if I just left and abandoned all these people? I want to run away with my tail between my legs at the first sign of a pandemic...

David and Claire walk past the crowd watching the T.V. and head out the back doors onto a balcony overlooking the staff parking lot. There's a bench and an ash tray out here. Claire and David would always come out here and smoke together on their breaks. Today was different. They'd been so busy that this is the first real break they've had. David was the one who got Claire hooked on cigarettes. She smoked four a day now, while he smoked half a pack a day. She'd never tell him to his face that he was responsible for her new addiction, though. Instead she just blames the stress of work like he does.

The sound of the T.V. muffles as David closes the doors behind them and lights up. She does the same, the two of them sharing a lighter that she pockets. Claire relishes the rush to her head that the cigarette gives her, instantly relieving some of the built up stress like magic. She exhales smoke as wind blows by, rustling her blond hair. They watch the sunrise together, enjoying their cigarettes in silence for a few moments... but then Claire says, "I'm really worried about them, David..."

"I know..." David looks resigned. Defeated. "Maybe... Maybe you were right... Maybe we should go."

"To Seattle?"

"Yeah."

Claire's heart is beating rapidly. She takes another drag, processing David's proposal. "But you said before..."

"I know what I said. I don't want to go. I don't want to just ditch our co-workers, our patients. We became doctors to help people. If we left now..."

Claire thinks of the kid in the car, and then remembers the teenager with his family, sitting in a room with a bite on his hand, waiting to die... She thinks about the numerous other patients she'd interacted with all day, assuring them that they'd be fine, only to watch most of them succumb to this virus...

"I'm going to be honest, David... I don't know if I can take much more of this... Seeing so many people die... to this thing... it's been... just... " A tear rolls down her cheek. She can't finish her sentence. David reaches out and brings her in close, hugging her tightly.

"Then let's wrap it up here. We'll head back to our apartment, pack our things, and go to your parent's place. We'll stay with them for as long as you need. Until whatever this is blows over. We're just interns, anyway. This is... This whole thing is out of league." The more he talks, the more relieved he sounds. He must've been struggling to keep it together too.

. . .

They finish their cigarettes and head back inside. The crowd of people around the T.V. is still there. The broadcast is showing live footage, a cameraman on the ground in Seattle. The camera is shaking frantically, like some sort of found-footage movie. There's sirens wailing in the background... and something else. It sounds like something is chasing him, making strange, gargled, choking noises. "Get away from me!" the cameraman yells, tripping as he runs into an intersection. A car speeds by, nearly hitting him, but he keeps going, making it to the other side of the dark street. The camera spins around and they all see a man staggering across the street, slowly dragging his feet, his hands up in the air. Claire's heart skips a beat, but before she can get a good look at him, the camera crashes to the ground. The sound of the cameraman's feet slap the pavement as he runs off, ditching the camera to the curb. The gargled moans of the pursuer gets louder and louder as it approaches, off screen... and then it cuts back to the news anchor sitting at the station looking extremely disturbed by what she just saw.

"Oh my god." says one of the nurses, covering her mouth.

Claire looks at David and he looks back at her, both of them just as shocked as everyone else. They stop and watch as the news woman clears her throat and says, "I, um, that was Fred, our cameraman on the ground in... um..."

"She's stunned." says one of the nurses.

"No way that's real."

"Yeah, that had to be staged."

Claire isn't sure what to think. It all happened so fast.

The doors to the break room open and Dr. Harper enters, looking surprised to see so many people in the break room. When he sees them, he says, "Claire. Have you seen Dr. Hammond?"

"Yes, I was just with him. He took a body down to the morgue."

"Alright. Tell him to come find me if you see him."

"Ok. Umm. David and I are probably going to be taking off here soon, actually..."

"Oh." Dr. Harper frowns, and she feels an instant sense of disapproval in the way he glares at her for a moment.

"I'm going to see my parents and make sure they're ok. They're in Seattle, and it's looking kind of scary over there right now, so..."

"I see. Well, fair enough." Dr. Harper sighs. "I'm just getting worried. The staff are worried." He glances over at the crowd around the television. "A lot of us are leaving. I'm even thinking about it, to be honest."

"But..." Claire gulps. "Do we have enough staff for this?"

"Not if it keeps getting worse. If more of us leave, then we might all be in some serious trouble here. But... well, you're still new here. Both of you are, to be frank. And this is a scary situation. So... go be with your families, and don't worry about us."

Claire nods, feeling strangely relieved. Dr. Harper has been working here a long time. She didn't work alongside him much, but David always had good things to say about him, that he's been patient and kind and a good teacher for David, just like Dr. Hammond was for her. I wonder if he's still down in the morgue?

. . .

Claire tells David she's going to find Dr. Hammond before they leave. She feels like he deserves to hear it from her. David understands, gives her a kiss on the cheek, and tells her he'll meet her in the lobby in fifteen minutes.

. . .

The elevator doors slide open, and Claire steps out into the basement level of the hospital, her high heels clicking on the floor with every step she takes. Straight ahead down the hall is the door to the morgue. Claire has barely ever been down here before, and she hates it. The basement feels cold, unwelcoming. The door to one of the custodial closets is open on the left. Claire passes it by and peeks inside, but she doesn't see anyone in there. Claire frowns and keeps going, walking briskly so that she can get this over with.

If Dr. Hammond is still down here, what's he doing? It shouldn't take him this long to put a body away. But no one upstairs has seen him since he came down here. Claire's mind races and her insides turn to lead as she imagines what might be waiting for her in the morgue... Stop it, Claire. You're imagination and your paranoia are just fucking with you.

Before she knows it, the morgue's doors are right in front of her. She stops in her tracks and listens, seeing if she can hear anything inside... but the only sound is the barely audible buzz of the ceiling lights above her.

Steeling herself, she lifts her hand and pushes on the door's metal bar, which clicks in, and the door swings open...

The morgue feels like a very cold locker room, only instead of lockers, there's refrigerators lining the walls, housing the dead and keeping them frosty. It's dark in here, Claire can only see what the light from the hallway illuminates, which isn't much. She fumbles her hand along the wall on her right, trying to find a switch. "Dr. Hammond, are you in here?" She calls.

Nothing but silence responds.

She finds the light switch at last and brilliant white light fills the whole room. She looks around and see no one in sight. She walks down one of the aisles of locked refrigerators to see if she can find him around the corner up ahead. "Dr. Hammond?" She calls again.

Silence. There's nothing around the corner ahead. She's alone in here...

A loud metallic BANG! on her right makes her jump.

Something inside the refrigerator is moving around.

Immediately there's another loud BANG! that makes her jump and scream. Followed by another sound down the row of locked refrigerators. Then more all around her. Until the entire room is filled with BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Claire screams, running as fast as she can on high heels back to the doors she came in through. The banging is like a storm. It's a cacophony of BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! Claire's heart is racing. She throws herself through the doors and slams them shut behind her, muffling the sound inside. Halfway there! She gasps for air, struggling to breathe as fear paralyzes her lungs, and lunges off the doors. She nearly trips on her high heels, but manages to get into the elevator.

She's wheezing as she reaches for the panel of buttons on her right. Her head feels light. Her heart feels like it's going to burst out of her chest. She slams her thumb down on the button and the elevator doors slowly start to close. Claire stares ahead at the morgue's doors in terror, a tear sliding down her cheek as she waits, knowing she'll be able to breathe again if she can just get out of here!

The elevator door finally, gently, closes...

. . .