John O'Brien - Chaos

Near the phone in middle of the desk is a hospital telephone directory. On the top page is the commander’s name, Col. Sarah Jensen, ext. 2856, room 350. Of course it would be on the third floor , I think setting it down and looking at hospital diagrams taped to the top of the counter. Using my folding blade, I liberate the diagrams from the counter, each diagram depicting a floor of the hospital. I notice the commander’s office two floors above me on the complete opposite side of the hospital. Wow! Two for two. A third strike and I’m outta here , I think stepping from behind the counter and into the hallway.

Heading quietly down the hall, I come to an elevator and a steel stairway door to my right. The bloody footprints continue down the hallway fading and disappearing altogether a short distance away. I shine my light at a doorway across the hall from the elevator and see a black engraved sign on the wall that reads ‘Dispensary.’ The door is a half door in which the upper half can be opened separate from the bottom half with a small counter separating the two halves. And, the top half is open. Aha, my luck seems to be changing , my thought bubble hanging out there in hope.

I edge across, alternating my light between the dispensary opening and the hallway. Reaching the door, I pan my light around the small interior of the room. Bottle-filled shelves line the walls with three smaller bottle-filled shelves in the middle of the room creating small aisles between them. A small, open doorway opens in the middle of the left wall.

Entering the room, I quickly clear the small aisles inside and swing back to the open doorway. It is a small storage room and is empty with the exception of several open cardboard boxes filling the wall space to the left. Bringing the empty boxes into the dispensary room, I fill them with various bottles. Now, I am no Pharmacist by any stretch so I start with the ones I do know. Various antibiotics and pain killers start the transfer from shelf to box followed by most everything else I can pack into them. Time to sort later , I think filling box after box. There is a Pharmaceutical book on the counter so that goes with. Can’t Google stuff anymore so we’ll need this . After the boxes are filled, I bring them to the front doors making several trips, making sure to keep an ear and eye alert for any sound or movement.

I head back into the hallway and the metal fire door leading to the stairwell. Yes, I plan to go further inside than what I told the kids. I pull slightly on the handle and the door swings open. Opening the door, I shine the light inside while holding the door open with my foot. A flight of concrete stairs leads upward to a landing with another flight of stairs leading off in the opposite direction to the next floor. I step into the stairwell noticing only a folded wheelchair next to the wall in the alcove next to the stairs as the door slowly closes behind me. Focusing my light on the stairs and landing above me, I step onto the first stair. The stairwell is completely dark except where my flashlight radiates a small circumference of light. Away from the light, an oppressive darkness prevails and presses in on me. No emergency exit lights. No light of any kind.

I proceed up the stairs counting them as I go and focusing my light and carbine as far up the next flight as my vision permits. My stomach is clenched tight with a tingling sensation as my system continues to pump adrenaline through my bloodstream. No matter how many times I have done this in the past, it is always the same feeling. Hyper-alert. Time slowing. My heart beats strong in my ears, to the point where it seems that it can be heard externally. With a team around, this feeling was minimized to a certain extent, but when solo, the feeling intensifies. You can get used to the feeling but not the circumstances. Keep focused and keep moving .

Approaching the second floor, two metal fire doors exit from the landing to either side. With my back to the wall, I continue up to the third floor landing. Two additional fire doors exit here. Crouching by the left door, I ease it open with my shoulder, and enter into an inky black hallway. To my left, towards the emergency room parking lot, the hallway goes a short distance before turning left to another hallway. A single door sits closed in the wall at the juncture with a small amount of light leaking from under it; a natural light most likely from windows facing the parking lot.

To my right, the hallway extends into darkness and with several closed doors set into the walls. The stairway door closes behind me with a soft thud. I check to see if it opens, find that it does, and so I am not stranded having to find another way down. The hospital diagram shows the administrator’s office lies down the hallway to my right at the other end of the building. I edge down the darkened hallway panning my light from left to right. The third door on the right is open.

As I approach the opened doorway, I see it is actually a set of double doors and begin to hear a faint panting sound. Much like a room full of dogs on a hot day or after a day of chasing sticks but heard from a long distance. This sound fills my ears at the same time as my light zooms into the room. There, I see the end of a folding table on its side jutting slightly out into the doorway with several orange plastic chairs lying upended and scattered throughout the room. And, against the far wall, huddled together on the floor, lie fifteen to twenty bodies, their skin pale and blotchy. It is from this huddled mass that the panting sounds emit.

The one closest to the door, and hence me, opens its eyes, staring at me through the light. Rising with lightning speed to its knees, its mouth opens and lets out an ear-blasting shriek of alarm. I pull the trigger and the gunshots join in this sudden escalation of noise, the flash of my rounds giving a quick strobe-like quality to the room and hallway, affecting my vision only slightly. The burst of rounds stitch across its body from the chest upwards, hurling it back into the huddled mass; its scream changes in mid-shriek; from alarm to pain to nothing.

The smell of gunpowder wafts in the hallway as time stands still for a moment. The only sound that of the empty cartridges bouncing metallically on the floor. The stillness ends with an explosion of activity and noise as the things all seem to rise instantly and as one, the shrieks from them deafening as they charge for the door. Two more bursts lift the two in front off their feet and into those behind as the others streak for the door. I am going to have to reload before I can take them all down therefore allowing them to pour into the darkened hallway. With this in mind, I start backing down the hallway toward the stairway focusing on the room’s entrance and thumbing the fire selector to ‘semi.’

The first one appears at the door. My round enters its head just beside the left eye, rocking its head backwards. The back and side of its head explodes outward, coating the doorjamb with blood and bits of bone and gray matter. It falls forward to the ground onto its chest and face, its momentum carrying it forward further into the hallway. A second one appears, leaping with a shriek over the body falling in front. Another strobe of light and popping sound of a round leaving the chamber fills the hall. The body is thrown sideways in mid-leap from the round slamming into the side of its chest, cutting the shriek off mid-way. Hitting the floor, it skids across the linoleum, coming to rest against the hallway wall.

Three more enter into the hallway at an almost full run, turning toward me as they exit. Three more rounds fly from my barrel, sending them all to the ground; the one on the right flies backward with its feet over its head, slamming head first into the floor with a meaty smack. By the time the last one has fallen to the ground, five more have poured into the hall and launch themselves toward me. I continue backing toward the stair door with the smell of cordite strong in the air. I fire once at the one closest, bringing its forward momentum to a sudden halt. It just stands there as if its body doesn’t believe it has just been shot in the sternum. Unable to continue forward, it slumps toward its final resting place. A movement brings the next one in line with my barrel as a loud, metallic crash erupts close behind me.