The Last Legacy (Season 1): Episodes 1-10 (22 page)

Jim passed right by me and grabbed my hand along the way. He didn’t utter another word as he dragged me behind him. He stopped by Scarlet and Kev, still in the same place, only sitting on the pavement now, fingers intertwined.
 

“There’s a hospital off of here. We’re going to find supplies to fix that leg. Are you okay to come or should we go alone?” He was in full-on command mode and wasn’t even pausing for a breath.

“I can do it,” Kev said as he pushed himself off the ground and stood on his two feet. I could tell that he wasn’t putting a lot of pressure on his hurt leg, but he was strong, and I admired that. Maybe I misjudged Kev too fast.
 

Scarlet sidled up next to him and put her arm around his back. He struggled with each movement. He used the outside of his foot to walk on, putting less pressure on his knee and lower leg. Scarlet made eye contact with me and nodded, and I smiled back at her. Was that an apology or acceptance?
 

Jim led the group of us off the exit. It was a bizarre feeling, walking down the center of a road and not worrying about cars coming in either direction. It was silent, so even if a survivor drove by, we’d hear them before we saw a car.
 

The blue square signs stamped with the letter H led us off the ramp and, according to the signs, two miles into a smaller city. The long driveway towards the hospital grounds felt like it took forever to climb, with winding roads and hills. But at the top of a rather large hill, I saw it.

I had pictured the hospital being multi-leveled, with many different specialized buildings. I guessed I expected something comparable to Yale, but this place wasn’t even close. The gray building sat between two parking garages. While it was multiple floors, it didn’t extend wide.

“It’s not as big as I thought,” I muttered as I tried to understand. We continued walking, now downhill towards the main entrance. A broken down awning covered the main door, blocking anyone from getting in or out. We’d have to find another way to get in.
 

The outdoor parking lot was packed with cars. Some looked as if they had been left in a rush, frozen in weird angles, some crashed into one another. It was like people rushed to get here after the bombings but never left. Bodies littered the ground, some near cars and some just lying on the wide open pavement. Nothing moved, though. A rancid smell of decay wafted from their bodies and hung in the air.

We stopped just outside of the parking garage at a large blue sign that had locations for all the offices and rooms. There was a long list despite being such a small medical center.
 

In the main building, near all of the long-term patient rooms was the cafeteria. I was sure they had food inside since people wouldn’t expect a hospital to be good for looting food. But we needed general medical supplies more than food right now. Once Kev was settled, we could eat.
 

“We’ll need disinfectant for his leg and some larger bandages,” Scarlet said as she helped prop his back against the sign. She pressed her hand above his knee, not getting too close to the open wound.
 

“I need Advil,” I chimed in as my head throbbed. I pressed the back of my hand to my temple. I was a bit warm. “Do you think they have clothes here?” I questioned as I looked down at my ragged outfit—my knees had tears, my shirt more or less a rag.

Jim ran his hand down his face. “The only way to get everything we need is to go into the general hospital or the emergency room. I can’t see them being clear, though.” Jim pointed around the small map in the center of the board where a big ‘E’ covered a large square room.
 

“What if we split up?” Scarlet offered, leaning Kev against the board.

“No,” Jim immediately spit out. “Kev can barely walk. I’m debating even bringing you two in the building.” He shook his head. “I think Lana and I should go to Emergency and see what’s going on. Then we’ll come back and check in.”

“I want to help,” Scarlet whined.

“You have to stay back and protect Kev. Watch him. Who knows what’s around here.”
 

I tucked my handgun into the back of my jeans. Scarlet remained quiet. I wouldn’t want to speak out against Jim either—the authority in his voice unwavering.

“We’ll be back.” Jim nodded at Kev before he turned and readjusted the rifle over his shoulder. Scarlet pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and smiled at me. The awkwardness between us grew as I stood, swaying between my two feet. But she hugged me, and it all faded away.

“Be safe,” she whispered in my ear. I nodded and let go of her. I followed behind Jim, who was already a few steps in front of me. I had to jog to catch up.
 

He remained silent; his face hardened as we followed the red signs towards the emergency room. His legs were so long that every single step of his I had to take three just to match it. My hairline dampened with sweat.

“Wait,” he said as we stopped outside of what used to be sliding doors. Jim tapped his hand against them, but they refused to open. Jim faced me. He surveyed me just a moment and then grabbed my hand, pulling it up between us.

“We don’t know what’s in there, so please, listen to me and stay behind me, okay?” His thumb brushed against my wrist, and my entire body ignited with desire. I pulled his face down to me and kissed him, smashing our lips together. He grabbed the back of my head and held me to him. His soft lips stroked against mine, desire pooling inside of me. I moaned at his touches.

Something brushed against my back, and I fell forward. Jim caught me in his arms and pushed me behind him towards the glass door. The eater growled at us while walking forward. In one swift motion, Jim pulled out his knife and sliced the eater through the ear. Its body fell against my leg and slid down to the gray sidewalk.
 

“That’s exactly why we can’t be distracted.” Jim turned his back to me, pointing down at the body. He slammed his fist into the sliding door, making it rattle.

“I’m sorry,” I stuttered and placed my hand on his back. He dodged out of my touch like it was fire.
 

“Let’s just get the supplies and get back to Kev,” Jim said through his clenched teeth.
 

I chewed on my nail, burying the hurt of Jim’s rejection. It was stupid of me to kiss him. I was selfish. I knew that. But I wanted it, and he acted like he did, too. I knew it was terrible timing. But when would there be a good time? It’d never be safe when eaters were killing, and we were constantly on the move.

I was in the wrong. Right now, Kev suffered. I shouldn’t have acted out of impulse. Jim smashed the back of his rifle against the heavy chain lock across the door. He hit it, again. His breathing picked up as he relentlessly hit at the lock without so much as cracking it.
 

My face burned as I shimmied past Jim, jingling the heavy chain lock across the door. I hit it with my gun. Jim didn’t say a word to me as I beat the lock. In fact, he was being too quiet.
 

I turned and saw him tugging his rifle over his head, his shirt riding up with it. My mouth fell open. I stepped backwards, putting space between us. I just scolded myself for kissing him, and here I was ogling the small glimpse of his muscled body. He pulled the shirt back down and held the rifle in front of him like a battering ram.

“Get back,” he said as he moved in front of the glass door. He reared the rifle back and shoved it through the window. It shattered, pieces clinked inside and out onto the concrete sidewalk. I glanced behind us to make sure no eaters had heard.
 

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” I mumbled. I brushed my elbow along the jagged edges so we wouldn’t get cut when we stepped through. I crouched in first and waited on the other side as Jim put the rifle back over his shoulder. When we entered a lobby, he pushed me behind him.
 

Despite it being sunny and clear outside, the room was darkened with shadows. All of the windows had boards blocking the light; only little slits of yellow broke through. Jim rifled through his backpack and pulled out a flashlight, flicking it on.
 

A chill crept up my spine. I hated hospitals. Truthfully, I was scared of them. Flynn, a foster brother of mine for about three years, suffered from epilepsy. He would get random seizures that were so bad that we’d have to rush him to the hospital. Once he was admitted for four days because he fell mid-seizure and broke a rib.
 

I lived with him right before I left the system, and at that time, I could drive. More times than not, I had to get Flynn into a car, deal with the hospital, and make sure that he was stable. I met some amazing people in Hartford Med, but I also saw some disturbing images.
 

This particular hospital smelled like death and hand sanitizer. A row of brown chairs lined the far wall, and beside them were cubicles separated by white curtains. A metal gurney sat in the middle of the rectangular room, vacant and still. I turned and grabbed onto Jim’s back.
 

“There’s a cabinet here; let’s look.” Jim inched along the side of the wall, hugging it like he didn’t want to be vulnerable. At the cabinet, Jim tugged it open, the door sticking.

He lifted the flashlight up to showcase what was inside, and my heart dropped. Emptiness. A single syringe lay on one of the shelves. This place was empty. Jim shook his head, shut the cabinet, and then continued to follow the wall. The lack of noise made my palms sweat and my fingers tremble. It felt like even my breaths were too loud.

A door loomed before us. I stopped behind Jim, touching his back with one hand and holding my gun with the other. As Jim shook the handle, I realized how quiet this place was. Nothing moved at all, no groans or eaters shuffling around. The noises from outside were blocked by the covered windows, so pure silence overtook the room. It was a jarring difference from the bombings and screams I’d grown accustomed to.

Jim checked the door with the side of his shoulder, but nothing happened. He tinkered with it, something clicking and jamming and then he stepped back, the door opening with him. The noise from the click echoed in the emergency room. I still hung onto the back of his jacket.

“You can pick locks?” I asked in amazement. He shut the flashlight off. My heart jumped, beating hard against my chest as a lump formed in my throat. He still didn’t answer me.

I couldn’t see a thing, my breath starting to pick up. His hand found mine, and he pulled me forward, into what I suspected was the room. He shut the door behind us and let me go. The flashlight illuminated the room. Jim waved it over the lines of shelves. We hadn’t hit a jackpot, but there were some supplies left.
 

“The lock was pretty good. Must have held up against looters,” Jim mumbled as he perused the room, lifting bottles and reading their labels. I followed behind him because without a light, I was useless.
 

Jim passed me a small plastic grocery bag, and I held it open for him. He threw in random bottles and boxes until the bag was nearly full. The sides of the plastic expanded with the shape of a box of gauze, nearly ripping. I lifted it to my chest and supported the bottom with my forearms.
 

“Is there Advil?” I asked Jim as the beam hit my eyes, nearly blinding me in the otherwise dark room.
 

“I got you three bottles of the generic stuff,” Jim answered. His hand rested on the small of my back as we moved along the wall.

“Thank you.”
 

“Let’s hurry and get this stuff back to Kev. Just follow me out.” Jim quietly wiggled the handle and pushed open the door, but it didn’t budge. It bashed against something and shut.
 

He pushed again, but the door banged, not letting us leave. Jim shoved the door with his shoulder, and then I heard it. Eaters cried on the other side of the door, the moaning picking up.
 

They must have seen or smelled us and followed. They began clawing and banging on the small door. Fingernails scraped away at the wood. My stomach rolled.

We were cornered in a small supply closet.
 

We were fucked.
 

My breathing shortened into small gasps as I tried to inhale. My head began to spin. I stumbled back against the far wall, almost passing out. Jim caught me by the elbow before I collapsed. I looked up at him.
 

“Get your shit together. I need you strong if we’re getting out of here,” he grumbled. His fingers brushed against my cheek. The coldness shocked me back to reality. We were stuck in a room with a blocked door. The walls appeared to be narrowing, closing in on me. The shelf pressed against my back, and I held onto Jim’s arm.

“I just—I don’t—I’m not ready to die.” I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I wasn’t ready for this. I used to accept the fact that when death came it was meant to be—the whole ‘everything happens for a reason’ philosophy. But I couldn’t believe that now. I wasn’t ready to die yet. My chest tightened.