Generation Dead - 07 (30 page)

“Look Frank,” his cool facade had cracked and he yelled at someone off camera, “I don’t give a shit what they told you! This is America! Play the damn tape!” He slammed his palms down on the desk causing his CNN coffee mug to jump a few inches into the air before landing haphazardly on its side. The mug listed back and forth for a few seconds before Cooper seemed to notice it and gently set it right. The screen cut to black for a few seconds and then began to stream what he had recorded only an hour before.

At first, the tape appeared to be nothing more than another of Cooper’s typical guerilla style reporting stories. He was quickly weaving his way through the ER of some hospital while the cameraman struggled to keep up.  Anderson grabbed the shoulder of a young doctor as he ran past and attempted to ask him a few questions, but the man quickly shook his head “no” and took off towards an incoming ambulance. Anderson turned to the camera with a concerned look on his face. “Obviously, the situation is a dire one. There appears to be no one who is able to provide any answers or information, but we…” He paused and turned towards a loud argument that was unfolding near the ambulance the young doctor had rushed to meet. “Let’s make our way over and see what is unfolding,” Cooper continued as he picked his way through a seemingly endless supply of patients.

The cameraman followed in close pursuit of Cooper and swung the lens back and forth across the ER as they made their way. All the rows of plastic chairs were filled with people clutching their heads or swaddling their stomachs protectively. An air of panic was clearly visible, but none of the patients seemed to be taken in for treatment. Maybe the back examination rooms were all full the cameraman wondered as a middle-aged man in a wrinkled business suit grabbed his bent elbow. The camera inadvertently swung down to capture the man’s face. It was creased with pain, and sweat was pouring from his brow at an unbelievable rate.

“Please,” the man pleaded weakly, “Please get a doctor. I’m, I’m…” but he could not finish his sentence. He doubled over and clawed at his stomach. A weak moan escaped his lips, which was immediately followed by a violent torrent of pink tinged vomit that spattered the cameraman’s legs and feet. Blood leaked slowly from the man’s mouth as he struggled to lift his head and mutter a weak apology. Before the cameraman could react, Anderson had blindly grabbed him by the other arm and pulled him along towards the confrontation erupting between the young doctor and two National Guardsmen.

The doctor was standing at the door trying to wheel a stretcher past what appeared to be two National Guardsmen. Cooper quickly made his way towards the men.

“There appears to be a military presence. I think I can see three Hummers parked outside, but I’m not sure what is going on.”

The doctor began to push past the Guardsmen with the stretcher, upon which an elderly patient lay. She was a frail woman with stringy gray hair and it appeared that she had succumbed to whatever epidemic was now unfolding.

“Look,” the doctor pleaded, “She only just passed as the ambulance pulled in. There’s still a chance to…” But the soldiers shook their heads. “Please!” the doctor pleaded.

Anderson tried to intervene, “Gentleman, surely you understand the importance of this poor woman receiving the medical care she desperately needs. Time is of the essence. You must allow this man to do his job!”

One of the soldiers grabbed the stainless steel runners on the side of the stretcher, “We got orders to lock down this hospital. Orders state no one else is to be taken in until further notice. CDC’s ordered home site quarantines based on information obtained from Europe and the ECDCP.”

Both Anderson and the doctor looked confused. “But she’s already here!” the doctor’s voice cracked as he slammed his fist down on the stretcher.

The soldier gripped the doctor’s arm and pushed the stretcher back the way it had come. “Put her back in the damn ambulance and take her home!” At this point, the absurdity of the situation seemed to leave the other soldier who noticed that the entire debacle was being filmed. His hand quickly shot out and attempted to grab the lens of the camera.

“Give me that
friggin
’ thing!” he shouted, but Anderson quickly pushed him away with a well-rehearsed move and put a good five feet between the camera and the soldier.

Turning to his cameraman, Anderson acted as if he
were
going to add some comment or remark, but his eyes widened and he simply shouted, “Run!”

The few seconds of footage that followed were filled with shouting voices and shaky scenes of the floor tiles and pounding vomit soaked shoes, but right before Anderson and his cameraman pushed through a set of double doors, the camera swung back up and briefly caught a shot of the soldiers and doctor. It appeared that the elderly woman had awakened and was attacking the soldier that had pushed the stretcher. The doctor and other soldier were struggling to pull her off, but she seemed to be attached to the hand and arm that had grasped the stretcher.

“My God,” Cooper gasped as the camera zoomed in, “Was she biting him?” Then the screen went black. After a few moments the feed returned to an even more distressed Cooper, now slumped at his news desk.

“When it was realized that we were there, we were contacted by the CDC and told not to air the footage,” he weakly shook his head, “They sent someone to the CNN offices to recover it, but my journalistic integrity would not allow them to bury this story, so I copied it.” His eyes began to glisten. “I really don’t know what I just showed you folks, but I feel like you had the right to know what’s taking place out there.” He shrugged, almost apologetically. A loud bang was heard from somewhere
off set and Anderson looked towards what was sounding like rushing feet and shouting.

A defiant look flared in Cooper’s eyes. “I’m not sure what is going on America, but I’ll do my best to continue to bring you the truth,” he swallowed hard and appeared to be at a loss. The shouting was getting louder and an obvious argument was erupting somewhere in the studio.  After an uncomfortably long pause, Anderson pinched his brow and continued, “For the first time in my life, I am at a loss for words, so I will sign off tonight with a quote from another famous journalist Edward R. Murrow, ‘Good night and good luck.”

The screen went black once again, but this time Cooper did not return. The loud pitched whine of dead air and Technicolor bars were all that could be found on any channel.

The staff in the office of the Montville Regional School Complex missed most of the story as they struggled to assist two paramedics with loading the body of Bev onto a stretcher. They were told she apparently had just suffered a massive heart attack.

www.severedpress.com