One Blink From Oblivion (18 page)

Max, Brooke, Vinny and their escort enter the guarded entrance to the mall and find themselves in a decontamination tent. Ahead of them are several stalls where soldiers in containment suits can be seen scrubbing nude prisoners with long handled brushes while others direct streams of water and occasionally douse the subjects with a handful of white powder.

              A stall opens up as a well-scrubbed prisoner moves through an opening in the white neoprene curtains just ahead of him. A faceless soldier points to Max, and CPL Steward immediately gives him a poke in the back with the stun stick. This time no shock is involved but Max understands that if he doesn’t cooperate then one is most certainly in the mail. He steps forward to the stall and prepares himself for full exposure. One of the soldiers steps up and produces a pair of utility scissors from a nearby tray.

              “Hands!” the soldier commands dryly.

              Max offers his bound hands to the soldier who clips the zip-tie without touching him. Max rubs one wrist after another, relieved to be free of the biting restraint.

              “Clothes!” the soldier commands after returning the scissors to the tray.

              Max looks back over his shoulder to give Vinny and Brooke a glance. Vinny responds with a shrug and Brooke shyly covers her face with her bound hands. Max turns back to the faceless soldier who offers nothing but a blank stare through partially fogged goggles. Max un-tucks his shirt and pulls it over his head. The soldier points toward a red bio-hazardous waste container on Max’s right hand side. Max steps to the container and pushes the shirt through a rubber lid with a cross slit in the top. Still standing in front of the container, he proceeds to unbutton his pants and drops them to his ankles. He kicks off his shoes and removes his pants and socks together. Once free of his garments he deposits all of it into the waste container. A slight tinge of queasiness flutters in his stomach as he watches his Air Jordans drop through the rubber lid. Feeling like the loser of a strip poker game Max reluctantly removes his boxer briefs. He opts for a quick pull down and disposal rather than a drawn-out exhibition. Being a football player Max is no stranger to being in the raw in front of a room full of other men, but this is not the way he had pictured his first disrobement in front of Brooke. The scene was all wrong, no soft music, no wine, only a room full of men -including Vinny- staring at his bare ass.

              The soldier motions for Max to step forward into the stall where the one with the brush awaits. Max gives another glance back at Brooke and isn’t surprised to find her face still buried in her hands. She is probably more embarrassed by his nudity than he is. Max steps into the stall and prays for the water to not be too cold. To add shrinkage on top of everything else would just be cruel and unusual.

              The soldier of few words grabs hold of the nozzle and gives a motion with one finger in the air. Immediately a scalding hot stream rushes across Max’s back and he flexes every muscle in his body in a momentary shock.

              As the water hits Max’s back and his entire body tightens Brooke momentarily forgets to keep up the charade of innocence and allows her hands to slip from in front of her face. Her mouth gapes just a bit and she stares onward, oblivious to her surroundings until the sound of Vinny clearing his throat snaps her back. Embarrassed, she quickly replaces her hands in front of her face and turns her head away.

***

              The soldier with the brush is incredibly thorough and Max wonders if he isn’t enjoying his job a bit too much. He decides not to ask as long as the soldier doesn’t tell. The other soldier with the water nozzle and powder continues to throw handfuls of what smells like powdered bleach on Max as they scrub him down like a couple of stable hands. After what seems like an eternity, the water shuts off and the soldier gives a nod toward the slit in the white curtain in front of Max. Max gives one last glance back at his friends and receives a two handed waive from Vinny. Brooke’s face is still covered and he’s thankful for that. He steps through the opening only to find himself in another stall. This one is fitted with dozens of little nozzles. A voice from a speaker that’s fixed in one corner instructs Max to spin slowly once the nozzles come on. Moments later a fine mist that smells of sanitized apples erupts from the many nozzles. Max does as he was instructed and makes a slow spin.

              When the procedure is complete, the anonymous voice instructs Max to step through the next opening and get dressed. Max steps out into a larger tented room and finds a system of labeled shelves with scrubs in assorted sizes and colors. He locates his size in blue and proceeds to dress himself. A box of booties labeled ‘One Size Fits All’ sits on top of a shelf and Max dons a pair of those as well. Once dressed he proceeds through the final opening and finds that he is back in the open mall and looking at a half-dozen well-armed guardsmen.

              A small woman in a white smock with a clipboard and a pen approaches Max and systematically runs through her checklist of questions.

              “What was the nature of your exposure?”

              “Blood, I guess.” He responds.

              “How long ago was your first exposure and please try to be as precise as possible?”

              “I don’t know. A few hours maybe.”

              “Did you have any open wounds at the time of exposure?”

              “No.”

              “Have you suffered any injuries or open wounds since exposure?”

              “No, not that I know of.”

              “Have you ingested any bodily fluids of someone you now suspect may have been infected at the time?”

              “No I have not.”

              The small woman makes a final check mark on her clipboard and asks Max for his name.

              “Maximilian Mills,” he responds.

              She gives Max a look that says ‘I suspect that name is made up but I don’t care’. She then reaches into her pocket and pulls out a green wristband where upon she writes his name prior to snapping it onto his left wrist.

              “Put him in block C section 5.” She commands one of the heavily armed sentries.

Just then, Max sees Vinny step out of the dressing stall to his left. Vinny looks his way and gives him raised eyebrows and a ‘what’s up’ nod.

Max has time for one word before a soldier grabs his arm and forces him forward, “Quarantine,” he says plainly and turns to walk in the direction that the soldiers are herding him.

He looks back over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of Brooke but is disappointed. He does however see the small woman with her clipboard and a fresh set of guards step up to Vinny. As he’s led down the long main corridor of the open mall, he continues to look back whenever he can. He and two of the guards mount the escalator to the top floor and before he looses sight of Vinny he tries to catch a glimpse of what he’s been waiting for –the small woman is placing a band on Vinny’s wrist…

***

Brooke sits on a fairly comfortable chair and stares at a wall full of ladies’ sneakers trying to take her mind off of the uncomfortable and embarrassing ordeal she had undergone an hour ago as she was stripped and publicly scrubbed. They had at least used female guards to do the washing but the small stalls provided little to no privacy and she could feel roving eyes studying her. At one point, she had glanced back and seen the pervert that had slapped her rear earlier. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet with his invasive stare. He even appeared to be shielding his crotch area from view with his rifle. The memory of this sends a shudder of anger and even a little shame through her. She blinks hard and forces herself out of the remembrance and back to present.

Her stomach burbles sounds of contentment after dining on the MREs that the guardsmen had handed out to everyone -with the exception of the infected of course who were holding out for something a bit more organic. A decent meal had been a long time coming and her body was in desperate need of refueling when it was offered. Considering the nature and shelf life of a ‘meal ready to eat’, she was pleasantly surprised by the flavor. After mealtime was over, she was marshaled to this women’s shoe store for what she presumed would be an extended stay.

She spies a pair of white running shoes on a display table that look as if they might be in her size. She stands and walks past several other ladies lying or sitting about, and hopes that none of them rat her out when they discern her intention. She stops at the table and gives a look around the dimly lit room for anyone giving her the hawk-eye. All good there, so she checks the gated and locked front door for guards and sees none. She grabs the shoes, tucks them under her left arm and does an about face. Brooke hurriedly reclaims her spot on the couch and turns her back to the front door to mask her loot. She holds the right shoe to the bottom of her left foot and is satisfied with the match. Without bothering to remove the booties, she slips her feet in quickly and ties both shoes tightly.

Brooke looks up to gauge the reaction of the women around her and finds that several of them have taken her lead and are now searching for some shoes of their own. She feels a tinge of guilt being the first one in the shoe store to consider shoplifting a pair of shoes but the feeling quickly fades when she takes into account the gravity of the situation.

After the decontamination procedure, she had been interviewed and fitted with a green bracelet. She was then ushered up the escalator to the second floor and placed in this female-only containment cell. Before the guard had closed the door, she asked him why people that were free of infection were being held. He told her she should be happy, that this was the safest place for them. The only way to stop the infection at this point was to keep the uninfected from being bitten. Brooke found the reasoning difficult to fault, but was angered at being held against her will none-the-less.

She scans the room for a familiar or even just a friendly face. What she finds are various expressions of fear and fatigue. How many of these ladies had gone through ordeals similar to hers -or worse- this evening? She, Max and Vinny had been fortunate to pass through primarily low population areas. Residents of the valley must have dealt with a total nightmare up to this point. Canoga Park -where they now find themselves captive- is after all part of the city of Los Angeles. Taking that into consideration relieves a bit of her ire over being held captive. She considers that perhaps she’s better off not knowing what horrors lie outside this makeshift prison. With that thought, she stretches out on the couch, and feeling somewhat safe for the first time tonight she closes her eyes.

***

After Vinny had explained the up-close and personal nature of his encounter with Lisa at the sheriff’s station the lady in the lab coat immediately fitted him with a yellow wristband. He was unaware of the significance at the time but had since put two and two together. He now lies on his back staring at a bank of mobile operating room lights. An I.V. is trickling an unidentifiable fluid directly into his vein that seems to be diminishing his senses. He turns his head to the left and through a kaleidoscope of haze, he can see other yellow-banded patients being escorted into the room. Some are being strapped to their gurneys and others –like he- are not.

As soon as he had entered the room he new that he was to be a guinea pig and decided it best to just go with the flow. After all, they hadn’t given him much choice and it was better than running the streets and trying to survive. It all fit into his
why should I care
attitude that had served him well thus far in life. His lack of resistance and dislocated shoulder had probably contributed to the absence of restraints on his gurney, and he was certainly thankful for that. He does however find himself wishing for a longer gurney as his feet dangle off the end of the one that he currently occupies. He thinks about calling for a nurse and lodging a pseudo-complaint about the accommodations, but in his current state, he finds he is unable to formulate anything humorous or witty to say. ‘If you don’t have anything funny to say then don’t say anything’. This twist on the old idiom gives him a chuckle.

He eyes the bag attached to his right arm hoping to find it nearing empty but is disappointed to see that it remains half-full. He wonders if it makes him a pessimist or an optimist in this case to think of the bag as half full and the thought hurts his head. With everything that’s going on outside he finds it disconcerting to not have full reign of his mental faculties. He glances at the back of his left hand where a small tube for repeated blood taking has been installed. He has a vague recollection of the nurse taking blood from him twice already. He found her quite pleasing to the eye as she sashayed about in her one-size-fits-all smock. He thought she had made an attempt to brush herself suggestively against him, but in retrospect that was probably the drugs talking –the drugs and maybe a bit of wishful thinking. He amazes himself with his ability to dwell on thoughts of the sexual kind even in a time such as this. He considers it a talent.

That last self-examination leads his mind to thoughts of Brooke. ‘Where is she? How is she doing? Is she thinking about him? Most importantly, would he have a chance with her if Max weren’t in the picture?’

***

Max crouches against the wall of a gutted mall shop. The space was apparently between tenants before the world went sideways, so the walls and floor are as barren as a salt flat. The ceiling is open and a widow’s web of water pipes and air vents are the only contrast to the emptiness of the room –aside from its inhabitants. No furniture is present, so men stand and lie about wherever they can find a vacant spot in the overcrowded room.