The Fall of Society (The Fall of Society Series, Book 1) (15 page)

           
“What
about the janitor and the engineer?” Ardent asked.

           
“I
don’t know anything about Donnie, he didn’t work in my wing,” Anthony said. “But
Alan is a drunk, and I’m pretty sure that he lives in the basement and was
passed out in a drunken stupor when the dead people started eating everyone.”

           
They
got to the twelfth floor roof access door.

           
Since
they were in the stairwell for a few minutes, their eyes had to adjust to the
sunlight outside, what little there was. They spread out over the roof to look
at the views, and they were all bad. They saw the solar panels, about six large
ones, at the other end of the roof. There was paint all over the floor in the
form of distress calls and S.O.S. in big black letters to inform any aircraft
of their situation.

           
“Try
not to get too close to the edges; if they see you, they’ll just get more riled
up,” Anthony said.

           
“They’re
about as riled up as they can get,” Milla added.

           
Lauren
saw the sniper rifle resting near the edge of the front of the building. “Nice
rifle.”

           
“It
is,” Anthony told her. “It’s mine.”

           
“So
it was you that shot all those dead ones out in the street?” she asked.

           
“Yeah,
if they get too close, I take them out, and their rotting smell masks ours.”

           
“Smart,”
she said. “You’re a great shot.”

           
“Thanks,”
he responded. “It’s also great therapy. Like I said; I’m much better now.” He
smiled, and Lauren smiled back; she understood perfectly.

           
They
looked down at the front of the hospital and the street was full of the raging
corpses, possibly five thousand, maybe more. The dead mob didn’t know where
their food went, so they weren’t trying to get into the hospital; some stormed
into the other buildings around them and others ran off in all directions. The
hospital’s stone wall was more than sufficient to keep them out. On both sides
of the hospital were storage buildings with no windows that were right up
against the wall, offering even more protection.

           
The
only other exposed area was the back of the hospital, the employee parking lot and
the loading dock, which had the same stone wall, but there weren’t that many of
the undead outside, mainly because the mental facility was nestled right
against a manmade waterway that led to the ocean. Not too far away was the 405 freeway
that crossed over the channel. The abandoned cars on it were ash covered burial
chambers.

           
Ardent
grabbed a pair of binoculars out of his backpack and scanned the west.

           
“Do
you see it?” Bear asked him.

           
“Yeah,”
Ardent said as he continued to look.

           
“What
are you looking at?” Tom asked.

           
“The
Long Beach naval shipyard,” Bear told him. “Do you see anything that we can
use?” Bear asked Ardent.

           
“No,
it’s too far away to tell,” Ardent said and then he scanned the waterway behind
the hospital.

           
“This
water channel leads to the shipyard, right, Tom?” Ardent asked.

           
“Yeah,
it does, why?”

           
“Is
it a clean path or is it obstructed by dams or anything like that?”

           
“As
far as I know, it’s clear. Why?”

           
Ardent
pointed down at the back of the hospital to something in particular in the
loading dock area.

           
“Is
that boat down there seaworthy?” Ardent asked.

           
Back
down on the ground floor, the group came out of the two sets of double doors,
just like the front entrance, to get outside in the back. There were about a
dozen dust-caked cars and trucks in the parking lot and parked by the loading
dock, and forgotten for years now was a thirty-six foot boat covered with a
couple tattered blue tarps. It was more of a barge than an actual boat. It had
a flat bottom and the two propellers of the outboard motors were visible. They
pulled off the tarps and dust stung the air and they saw what the boat looked
like underneath. It was old; the only thing older was the rust-coated trailer
that it sat on. It had a small wheelhouse, and the rest of it was an open area
for cargo and a couple seats for passengers.

           
“They
used this boat for receiving supplies from the harbor and every once in a
while, they used it for patient transfers.” Anthony explained. “But that was a
long time ago; I think this thing’s been sitting here for ten years.”

           
Ardent
and Bear looked the boat over, checking the hull for any holes or cracks.

           
“Looks
okay, so far,” Bear observed.

           
“Yeah,
same here,” Ardent said. “What about the engines?”

           
The
engines were covered as well and they pulled the covers off to discover that
the engines had been taken apart and left that way—pieces fell all over the
ground.

           
“Not
exactly seaworthy,” Bear said.

           
“No,
but we can fix them,” Ardent said.

           
Bear
looked at all the pieces. “Really?”

           
“We
have to try.”

           
“Okay.”

           
Ardent
looked to Tom. “Do you think anyone will mind if we borrow this boat?”

           
“I
don’t think anyone will care, maybe Alan, but he’s harmless,” Tom asked. “What exactly
are you guys thinking here?”

           
“You
know that you can’t stay here forever, right?” Ardent told him.

           
“Yeah,
maybe.”

           
“No
maybe, sooner or later, you’re either gonna run out of food or those things
will get in,” Ardent told him.

           
“So
what’s your point?” Tom asked.

           
“Before
we came here, we were on our way to the naval shipyard to look for a boat to
use and get out of here,” Ardent said.

           
“And
go where?” Tom inquired.

           
“Anywhere
but here,” Bear said. “The cities are death traps.”

           
“We
have a place to go to,” Ardent said.

           
“Where?”
Tom asked.

           
Ardent
glanced at Lauren—“We’ll discuss that with all of you at dinnertime
tonight.” Lauren said.

           
“Alright,”
Tom answered.

           
Ardent
and Bear began to gather the boat engine parts and sort them out.

           
“We’re
gonna need tools to fix the motors,” Bear said.

           
“Alan
has a machine shop in the basement,” Anthony said.

           
“Let’s
go pay the man a visit,” Ardent said.

           
“I’ll
show you the way,” Anthony led them.

           
Ardent,
Bear, and Lauren went with him, while Tom and Milla stayed.

“I know a shower is out of the question,
but would you happen to have anything that Derek can wash up with?” Milla asked
Tom.

           
“He
is a little on the ripe side, isn’t he?” Tom said.

           
“Yeah,
a wee bit.”

           
“Come
on, I think I have something in my truck.

           
“Cool,
thank you.”

           
She
followed him into the hospital.

           
As
Anthony walked with Ardent, Bear, and Lauren, he noticed the makeshift armor
that they were wearing. “What’s with the black plastic armor?” he asked Lauren.

           
“It’s
PVC pipe,” she told him.

           
“What?”

           
“You
know, plumbing pipe.”

           
“Oh
yeah, where’d you get it from?”

           
“We
put it together ourselves.”

           
“It’s
not the best protection from bullets,” Anthony observed.

           
“It’s
not for bullets, it’s for those dead things; it gives us added protection, because
if you get just one scratch or a bite, you’re done.”

           
“Never
thought of that.”

           
“Does
Alan have any in his shop?” she asked.

           
“I
think so, why?”

           
“Because
my right forearm piece is cracked,” she said and showed it to him.

           
“I’m
sure we can fix that up.”

           
Alan
was in his machine shop that had plenty of tools, materials and machines for
taking care of the hospital. He had earphones on that were connected to an iPod
as he was loading his shotgun with the shells that Ardent gave him, he finished
loading the tube and racked the action of the pump, chambering a shell, and
then he loaded one more into the tube. Now he was happy, he smiled a little,
but just for a moment as Ardent and the group approached.

           
Ardent
had another box of shotgun shells in his hand.

           
“Hey,
Alan, the guys need to borrow some of your tools,” Anthony said.

           
He
turned the iPod off. “Oh yeah, what for?”

           
“We’re
gonna fix the outboard motors on that barge in the back,” Ardent answered.

           
“You
all gonna go fishing or something?” he said.

           
“Something
like that,” Bear said.

           
“Shit,
that thing’s been rusting out there since Clinton was president. It can’t be
fixed.”

           
Ardent
placed the box of shells on his countertop. “Then I’m sure you won’t mind if we
try?”

           
Alan
looked at the box of shells and took them. “Go ahead, take what you need.”

           
“Thanks,”
Ardent said.

           
Ardent
and Bear looked around his shop and gathered tools.

           
“Just
make sure that you bring everything back when you’re done,” Alan instructed.

           
“Not
a problem,” Bear said.

           
“Do
you have any PVC pipe so I can fix my forearm guard?” Lauren asked Alan.

           
Alan
looked her up and down, which didn’t bother her at all. “Sure, little lady,” he
said seductively. “Right over there, in the back.”

           
“Thanks,”
she said and went with Anthony to go look.

           
Ardent
and Bear got all the tools they needed. “This should do it,” Ardent said, and he
left with Bear.

           
“You’re
welcome,” Alan said after they left.

           
Then
Lauren and Anthony came back, Lauren had a piece of white PVC pipe that was the
right size for her forearm, but it needed to be cut. “Can I use some of your
tools to cut this?” she asked Alan.

           
He
grabbed a measuring tape. “Let me see your arm.” She let him measure her
forearm, and he rubbed his wrist against her breast on purpose. “Sorry,” he
said, to which Lauren rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Give it here,” he said and
grabbed the new piece. He measured the pipe, marked it with a pen, and then secured
the length of pipe in a vice. He cut a section of it off and made it the right
length. Then he adjusted the piece in the vice and proceeded to cut the piece
in half. He took one of the halves and locked it in the vice, took a hand
drill, and drilled four holes on each end of it. He was done.

           
He
unwound the vice and handed her the piece. “There ya go,” he said.