The Seven Cities Saga (Book 0): Survival in the Seven Cities (3 page)

Gloria gave her own mother a quick hug, thanked her again and started toward the hospital entrance, Bobby beside her. At eight years old he didn’t need to hold her hand anymore when they crossed the parking lot. He’d pretty much had an intervention with her just after his sixth birthday: "Mom, I’m six years old. I’m not a baby anymore. I think I'm responsible enough to watch for cars without holding your hand." Gloria had wanted to laugh because he was so serious about it. As if this was a big deal. The idea of him thinking he was grown up at six years old was so cute it made her want to hold his hand forever.

But she didn't laugh. She nodded her head attentively and told him that if he thought he was responsible enough, then he didn't have to hold her hand.

Now as they crossed the parking lot she felt his warm little hand slip into hers.

CHAPTER FIVE

The automatic doors of the hospital slid open, exhaling the cool rush of air conditioning and the smell of disinfectant. Gloria knew the smell was a good thing: it meant cleanliness. But there was something unsettling about it. Hospitals never seemed natural. They were distinctly industrial in almost all things: hard right angles on all of the corners, sharp smells, commercial grade furniture that was designed for easy clean up instead of comfort.

The waiting room was full but there was only one person at the intake line ahead of her. When it was her turn, she stepped up to the desk and had a seat. The woman across the desk was middle-aged, maybe fifty years old, but her hair was shiny and she’d obviously taken a lot of time to fix it. She didn't introduce herself but her badge said "Barbara."

"We’re here to see Roger Banks. He was injured down at the water front."

Barbara smiled. "So you're Gloria?"

Gloria paused, taken aback that this stranger knew her name.

Barbara cackled, a loud crack of sound in the otherwise quiet waiting room. "Don't look so surprised. Roger hasn't stopped talking about you in the half hour he's been here. He keeps telling us to make sure we let you see him even though you aren't technically family yet."

There was a gleam in Barbara's eye when she spoke, as if she knew something Gloria didn't.

"And how about the little one? Is he okay?"

Bobby scrunched his nose at the term "little one." He thought of himself as big.

"I'm fine," he said.

Gloria shook her head. "Bobby has some scratches on his arm that I think should be checked."

"That won't be a problem at all. Let me just get Bobby's information and you two will be on your way."

Barbara filled a few boxes and moments later she attached a purple band around Bobby's wrist.

"You guys are set. I'll take you right back to Roger's room."

The back end of the ER was bristling with movement, like a complicated piece of machinery with many interlocking gears. The ER nurses were already cleaning and wrapping Roger's wounds by the time she entered.

Roger's face lit up when he saw them. "Hey! I'm so glad you guys made it quickly. Where are the girls?"

Bobby ran to the other side of Roger's bed and whispered something in his ear.

Roger nodded and whispered something back. Gloria caught the words "Soon enough," but that was all.

Gloria gave Roger a puzzled look but he just smiled serenely.

"Just something Bobby and I are working on."

Gloria rolled her eyes playfully. Those two were always working on some sort of "Secret Project." More often than not the secret project was Star Wars movie night where they would attempt to watch all six episodes in one night without stopping. She usually found both of them asleep on the couch before the droids hit the sand in A New Hope.

The nurse turned toward Gloria and patted Roger on the shoulder as she finished up the stitching. "Mr. Banks, the injury looks good. We've got it cleaned up and antibiotics are in your IV. I can't imagine you’ll be here too long. The doctors want to monitor you for a little while because you lost a decent amount of blood. Plus you sustained pretty substantial bites. We want to make sure you get a good round of antibiotics before you go."

"I understand." Roger was bright eyed and looked genuinely happy despite being in the hospital. He was always so upbeat, thought Gloria.

The nurse smiled at Bobby. "I'll be back in just a minute and we can get that arm cleaned up, okay?"

"Okay," Bobby said beaming. He’d always been a sucker for a pretty girl, even as a toddler. He was sure to be girl crazy in a few years.

The nurse stopped just outside her door to speak with another coworker. "We’re getting slammed. See if we can get Jenna down here from maternity. I wish she hadn't transferred."

"Alright, Bobby, let me see that arm," the nurse said, stepping back in.

Bobby smiled and held his arm out. The scratches were about six inches long and not very deep, but they were slightly red on the edges.

The nurse examined Bobby's arm gently, turning it back and forth. "Do those hurt?"

"Nah, not too bad."

"How old are you?"

"Eight."

"If I had been scratched like that at your age I would be crying. You must be pretty tough," she said.

"Yeah, I am," Bobby said matter-of-factly. "Roger and I wrestle all the time and I kick his butt."

The nurse raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. She clearly had experience with children. "Wow, that is pretty tough. I'm about to put some stuff on your scratches to make them clean. It'll sting a little but it probably won't be a big deal for someone as tough as you, right?"

Bobby looked a little nervous, perhaps realizing he’d talked himself into a corner. "Yeah okay." He put on a brave face and nodded.

Gloria hazarded a glance at Roger who looked like he was getting sleepy. Just a moment ago he’d been so awake. She wondered if they’d given him something for the pain.

The nurse sterilized and bandaged Bobby's scratched arm.

"You did really well, Bobby. I've seen kids way bigger than you cry when I put disinfectant on their cuts."

Bobby beamed again. "It wasn't so bad."

The nurse glanced over his shoulder at Gloria and smiled.

"How many others from the Ocean Front are here?" Gloria asked.

"Not counting Bobby and Roger, there are six others."

"Are they okay?"

"A couple had cuts and bites worse than Roger but they're gonna be fine."

Gloria glanced at Roger. “Why’s he so drowsy,” she asked, lowering her voice.

"Probably a combination of things. He's tired after fighting with that man. During the fight he will have experienced an adrenaline dump that kept him going when he needed to, but now he's crashing. Everyone responds to trauma in a different way. He also lost a lot of blood and we gave him some pain killers."

A bell rang in another room.

"That's one of my patients. I'll be right back."

Gloria bent down next to Roger. "Are you doing alright hon?"

Roger nodded. "Yeah, my head hurts. Right behind the eyes and the bites feel warm. Maybe it's the pain killers."

"Yeah that could be it. I remember when my father had hernia surgery, he came home and the painkillers made him really agitated and loopy. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Me too. I think I might rest for a bit."

"That’s a good idea. I'll be right here if you need anything. You should get some rest."

Bobby sat quietly in the chair next to Gloria reading an issue of National Geographic. Gloria texted her mother with a status update about both Roger and Bobby, then asked about the girls.

A few more minutes passed. Roger was glassy-eyed and sleepy. It didn’t look like normal sleepiness; he seemed drugged. But that made sense, Gloria thought. He was drugged. She hated to bother the nurse with what was most likely no big deal, but she also didn't want to be one of those people who saw something wrong and didn't say anything.

Gloria rang the button.

"Yes?" the nurse’s voice crackled over the pager system.

"Roger is really starting to space out and he was talking fine to me just a few minutes ago. I think there might be something wrong with his medication."

"Alright, Ma'am. I'll be right in to check on him."

"Thank you," Gloria said, hoping she wasn't being too much of a burden to the busy hospital staff.

Within a minute the nurse entered and looked at Roger's vitals on the computer.

"Mr. Banks, how are you feeling?" she asked.

Roger didn’t respond.

The nurse checked Roger's IV to make sure there were no kinks in the tubing. She reached down and felt his wrist.

"He's burning up," she muttered, pulling a temporal thermometer from a drawer.

"103 degrees." Her forehead wrinkled with worry as she turned to dial one of the doctors.

A loud crash came from another room and Gloria heard a man screaming. The sound reminded her of the crazy man from the boardwalk. The nurse ran out of the room to see what the problem was and Gloria followed her to the doorway.

A man was on all-fours, One of the bite victims attacking a female security guard who had fallen on the ground. Gloria recognized him from the waterfront. He’d been bitten on the arm just like Roger. A male nurse in green surgical scrubs pulled at the attacker, but the infected man jumped to his feet and palmed the male nurse’s face like a bowling ball, digging his fingers into the nurse’s eyes before biting off one of his ears. The man was holding nothing back, all of his energy was focused on the attack. A nurse was cowering nearby, applying pressure to a bleeding wound on her own arm. She looked scared.

There was a metallic crash from the room next door, as if an IV stand or chair had fallen. A second man charged out of the room, straight at the medical staffers who were trying to subdue the man from the waterfront. IV tubes hung from the second man's wrist, dragging on the floor like limp tentacles as he ran. He leaped onto the nurse who’d been helping Roger and sank his teeth into her neck. A person, the same woman who’d shared the ambulance with Roger, ran from another room and joined the assault.

Gloria backed into Roger's room, shut the door, and turned around. She walked briskly towards Roger. He was pale and sweaty. She took his hand and felt something hard in his palm. She looked down at what he was holding: a diamond engagement ring.

That's when it hit her: the reason her kids had been so organized this morning; the reason he and Bobby had been whispering. Her kids had known he was going to propose this afternoon.

Still holding the ring, Gloria stared at Roger for a moment, then kissed his knuckles.

"I love you Roger," she said, her voice cracking. Roger didn't respond.

Gloria backed away. She could feel the sobs coming but she stopped them before they came out.

This is not the time for crying, Gloria, she told herself. You have to hold it together. For Bobby. For yourself.

"Bobby, come here right now." Bobby moved next to Gloria, sensing the urgency in her voice. "When I tell you, I want you to run to the car as fast as you can. I'll be right behind you. Don't look back, and don't stop for anything or anyone no matter what, okay?"

Bobby nodded, wide-eyed.

Good. She had to get her son out of the hospital. Now.

Gloria paused. Roger had started to move. He moved his head back and forth with his eyes closed, as if he was testing the limits of how far he could turn his head. Then his head swiveled to where Gloria was standing and opened his eyes, immediately zeroing in on her. His eyes were different. Not a different color but they might as well have been; they weren't his. He looked furious. Without taking her eyes off him, Gloria slid the door open behind her.

"Now," she whispered to Bobby. “Run!”

Roger sprang from his bed, sending the IV stand crashing down. The IV ripped from his forearm as he stepped on the tubing and blood splattered across the floor. Gloria kicked the rolling doctor’s chair into his path. He put his foot atop the chair and attempted to spring off of it, but the wheels moved smoothly beneath his weight and he crashed face first into the ground. Gloria frantically grabbed at the different monitors and stands and threw what was probably $100,000 worth of medical supplies in Roger's path. When there was nothing left to throw she turned and ran, slamming the door behind her just as Roger was an arm’s length away.

On the main floor of the ER, there were now five people throwing themselves at a door. The staff must have locked themselves inside. Two of the infected patients turned at the sound of Gloria slamming the door and ran for her. Gloria had a head start but they were fast. She pushed empty hospital beds, wheelchairs, and anything else she saw behind her. Anything to slow them down.

The doors leading out of the ER were open in front of her and she hoped that meant Bobby had gotten out.

Gloria burst into the waiting area, yelling. "Run! Everybody run!" But the people waiting there just looked at her like she was crazy.