The Fall of Society (The Fall of Society Series, Book 1) (29 page)

           
“Yeah,
if it’s no trouble?”

           
“Not
at all, I already made it.”

           
“I
figured as much, I’ll get it after we’re done here.”

           
“Okay.”

           
“You
wanna do some more work with the claymores with me?”

           
“Sure,
where at?”

           
“I
wanna set some up in the front courtyard.”

           
“Cool,
just like we did in the back?”

           
“No,
I wanna put some on both sides of the courtyard, and we’ll set them up facing
each other, so if any of those things get in through the front gate, they’ll
get blown to bits in a crossfire.” John interlaced his fingers to demonstrate a
crossfire effect.

           
“Cool,”
Anthony said enthusiastically.

           
They
finished setting up the ropes and left four of the climbing harnesses ready for
use.

           
“All
set. It would be a good thing if we didn’t have to use them,” John said. “But
just in case.”

           
“Speak
for yourself, I wanna use’em,” Anthony said as he looked over the edge. “Looks
like it would be fun.”

           
“Except
for the height thing, it is,” John said with a grin.

THE
UNKNOWN

T
he hour was a little past noon
, Ardent and Bear were making progress on
the last engine—they had more than half of it rebuilt. The group also had
the boat almost fully loaded with supplies, but they were tired and hungry.

           
“Let’s
take a lunch break,” Ardent told Bear.

           
“Sounds
good to me.”

           
They
stopped work and headed inside, out of the heat of the sun and the constant
noise of the dead outside their walls. Others followed suit.

• • •

           
Most
of them were in the cafeteria, except for John, Anthony, Tom, and Ceraulo. Everyone
was relaxing or trying to relax, as they ate. Tom and Anthony walked in, and
not long after them, John walked in and sat at a table by himself.

           
“You
wanna know what I miss the most before all this shit started?” Alan posed to
everyone.

           
“Porn?”
Anthony said.

           
“No,
still have plenty of that. Beer, an ice-cold beer.”

           
“No
argument there,” Bear said.

           
“Wanna
know what I miss?” Derek volunteered.

           
“Pot?
We know, baby.” Milla said.

           
“No,
besides that. TV, man. I miss just chilling out and watching some TV.”

           
“Me,
too,” Maggie agreed.

           
“Lasagna,”
Joe said. “I miss my mother’s lasagna, it was the best!”

           
“Oh,
stop! Don’t say lasagna!” Tom said yearningly.

           
“God,
I miss my mom,” Joe added.

           
“She
didn’t pass because of the infection, did she?” Milla asked.

           
“No,
thank goodness,” Joe said. “She passed a long time ago, and to this day, I
still can’t make her lasagna the way that she used to. I followed her recipe
step-by-step, but it always missed something.”

           
“It
was her, Joe, it’s because
she
didn’t
make it,” Maggie said.

           
Joe
knew that. “Yeah.”

           
“I
miss Helen,” Anthony said out of the blue.

           
“Who’s
Helen?” Lauren asked.

           
“A
nurse that worked here; she was always really nice to me, even when I was bad,
which was a lot, but she never complained. She really liked her job, because she
liked to help people.”

           
Then
the last person of the group, Ceraulo, arrived.

           
“We
were just talking about things we miss before the world ended, Doc,” Tom said.
“What about you, is there anything that you miss?”

           
Ceraulo
thought for a moment. “I miss my computer.”

           
“Your
computer?” Tom said.

           
“Yes,
my computer. I use to be able to access my patients’ files with the click of a
mouse. Now, I have to resort to looking at the hard copies. It’s archaic.”

           
“What’re
you looking at your patients’ files for, Doc?” Tom asked. “They’re all dead
now.”

           
“You
don’t know that; they were evacuated somewhere safe,” Ceraulo said.

           
“Safe?
Could you please tell me where that is cuz I’d like to go there!” Joe spat.

           
“Come
on, Doc, you gotta know that your patients are most likely dead, right?” Bear
put to him.

           
“You
don’t that,” Ceraulo said.

           
Bear
looked at him like the fool that he was. “Okay.”

           
“You
wanna know what I miss?” John said.

           
He
had everyone’s attention.

           
“What?”
Lauren asked.

           
“Trust.
That’s what I miss. Before the fall of society, there was a certain amount of
trust that a person could depend on in everyday life, not much I know, but just
enough to make life decent. And now? With everyone dead and the rest of us
struggling to live another day, trust is almost impossible to find. Treachery
is what we have now; oh sure, we’re working together to survive, but if it
comes down to it, everyone here will most likely scatter to save their own skin.”

           
“What’s
your point?” Milla told him.

           
“Treachery
gets people killed.”

           
“What
are you talking about?” Alan asked.

           
“Hey,
Ceraulo, what’s in the north wing?” John asked him casually.

           
“What?
Nothing, I already told you, it’s empty,” Ceraulo said.

           
“Treachery,
Doc, treachery is a bad thing,” John asserted.

           
“I
don’t know what you’re talking about.”

           
All
eyes were on Ceraulo now.

           
“Sure,
you don’t,” John said. “When I walked the perimeter today, I happen to come
upon a familiar smell that was coming from the north wing.”

           
“What
kind of smell?” Bear wanted to know.

           
“Dead
bodies?” Maggie added.

           
“Why
don’t you guys ask Ceraulo; he knows what I’m talking about,” John said.

           
“What’s
going on, Ceraulo?” Joe asked.

           
“What
is he talking about, Doc?” Tom said.

           
“I
have no idea what he’s talking about,” Ceraulo said nervously.

           
“Tell
us!” Maggie shouted.

           
“Look
at you,” Ceraulo said to everyone. “You people are insane. You’re going on the
word of some man that just got here, we don’t know him or what he really wants
from us, and you’re all ganging up on me? It’s sad. Pathetic, actually.”

           
“Bullshit,”
Lauren said. “What’s in there?”

           
“Damn
you people!” Ceraulo shouted. “For the last time, there’s nothing in there,
it’s—”

           
John
cut him off. “I got in there today, Doc.”

           
Ceraulo
suddenly went quiet. He was speechless, and that’s when everybody knew what
John was saying was true.

           
“Oh,
what the hell?” Anthony said.

           
“You
mind telling us what John is talking about?” Ardent said to Ceraulo.

           
Ceraulo
was at a loss. “I…uh, I don’t think…there’s anything to…talk about.”

           
“Open
the north wing, Ceraulo,” Alan said.

           
Ceraulo
tried to be assertive, said, “No,” but failed.

           
“Open
it!” Maggie shouted.

           
Tom
walked right up to Ceraulo’s face with his gun in hand. “Listen to me,
Doc—we’re all gonna go to the north wing and you’re gonna open those
doors. Right now.”

           
There
was nothing Ceraulo could say to the look in Tom’s eyes.

           
Nothing.

• • •

           
The
inside of the north wing’s reception area was quiet, deathly quiet, and the
walls were so thick of old concrete that the dead could barely be heard
outside; they were a chorus of muffled cries. Besides that, there were no signs
of life in this place, just a layer of dust-encrusted air that was stagnant for
months now.

           
A
key hit the door lock outside, and the double doors opened and light poured in
as if a tomb was discovered after a thousand years of being closed. Ceraulo
stepped aside as the group entered; he let them pass and tried to step back so
he could slip away without being noticed, but John walked up behind him and grabbed
him by the shoulder. “Come on, Doc, give us the tour,” he said sarcastically.

           
The
reception area was full of the usual relics—a reception desk was on one
side, waiting room chairs, and on end tables were old magazines of a forgotten
time. On the other side of a large staircase was the cafeteria; the group
decided to go in there.

           
This
eatery was just like the one in the main building of the hospital, only this
one was smaller and there was one other difference—it was stocked with
food. Dozens of canned goods boxes were stacked on the cafeteria tables in
orderly piles that totaled to hundreds of cans, everything from Spam to canned
fruit, all waiting to be eaten. There were also dozens of boxes of bottled water.
And at the far end of the cafeteria was where the used cans were—dozens
and dozens of discarded cans littered the floors and tables. The caretakers of
this can graveyard were hundreds of
flies
that buzzed around forming a dark cloud. They were everywhere, and the smell
was bad. On one table were the files of many patients that Ceraulo had neatly
stacked for some strange, unknown reason.

           
Maggie
covered her mouth and nose. “That’s disgusting,” she said as she backed out
with Corina.

           
“Huh,
I knew about this cafeteria, but Ceraulo told me that all the food was kept in
the main cafeteria,” Alan said.

           
“Now
I know why you hardly took any of my food, Doc,” Tom said.

           
“Okay,
you caught me. I kept the food for myself and what of it?” Ceraulo said. “Tom
has a lot more food than this in his trailer. I work for the hospital, and that
makes this food hospital property.”

           
“You’re
sick, man,” Derek told him.

           
“Look,
you want the food, then take it, I don’t care,” Ceraulo said boldly. “Are we
done here? Because I’m leaving.”

           
He
turned to leave, but John stopped him. “This isn’t what I smelled, and you know
it.”

           
“What
do you mean, John?” Ardent asked.

           
“Out
here,” John said and he forcibly escorted Ceraulo.

           
They
emerged back in the reception area, and John stopped with Ceraulo before the large,
wide staircase that went up one flight into darkness.

           
John
looked up the stairs and sweat dropped down Ceraulo’s forehead.

           
“Up
there,” John said.

           
Everyone
looked up the stairs and didn’t see much because of the darkness, and then Tom
and Anthony produced some flashlights. Light splashed the path and even with
the flashlights, it was still dark up there.

           
Ceraulo’s
eyes blinked fast, almost twitched from nervousness and they all knew it.

           
“What’s
up there, Ceraulo?” Bear asked.

           
“Nothing,”
he said in a hurried state. “There’s nothing up there.”

           
“Sure
there’s not,” Tom said and he ascended the steps.

           
Everyone
followed, except for Ceraulo; John had to force him up.

           
He
resisted, and Derek offered some help. “Allow me, John…”

           
Derek
took Ceraulo’s arm and twisted it behind his back.

           
“You’re
hurting me!” Ceraulo cried.

           
“No,
you’ll know when I’m hurting you,” Derek said as he gripped his arm tighter.
“Now shut up and climb.”

           
As
they neared the top of the stairs, they could see a sign posted over the
corridor entrance,
MAXIMUM SECURITY WING
.

           
At
the top of the second floor was a long corridor with offices on both sides,
some were regular hospital offices, a couple were patient holding cells, but
others were security offices, and they were full of riot gear and restraining
equipment—handcuffs, straightjackets, ankle bracelets, and other rusted
items.