Dead Frontier/Issue 123

This is Issue #123 of Dead Frontier, titled ''Medicine. ''This is the third issue in Volume 21.

Issue 123 - Medicine
Half of the hospital stands in ruins. Green vines snake around the exterior, and parts of the brick that made up the walls have tumbled to the ground in large piles. The large red cross that was once planted above the glass entrance doors has fallen to the asphalt below. The other half of the building looks in oddly pristine condition given the state of the world now. The group stands about a block away, gazing at it.

"Could be a gold mine in there..." Adam says, his arms crossed. With Cole, Lienne, and now Cedric in less-than-desirable condition, the possibility of supplies in this hospital is just the calling they need. However, a clear obstacle stands in their way: the infected roaming the front parking lot, and the fact that they don't know exactly what's in there. "And we clear out the lot. Easy."

"You think so?" Daniel asks.

"Yeah, if we find a way to spread 'em out enough, I guess. Might be easier to take them out that way."

Adam mulls it over, then takes a glance up at the sky. The sun is low, and the sky takes on a pretty orange hue. Way too late to go in now and expect to come out before dark. "Tomorrow morning we'll head in. Come on," he says, and with a nod of his head he orders everyone back into the vehicles.

"Hey. Wake up," Cole prods, sitting up on his elbow. Lucy doesn't respond, so he pokes her on the shoulder. "Lucero."

She stirs slightly. "Stop...don't call me that," she mumbles.

"Then wake up. I thought you were going today." He's met with no response again. "Lucero Esmeralda Brinkley--"

"Okay, I'm up." She gives him an annoyed glance and rubs her eyes. "You really shouldn't be talking, Irwin."

"Irwin's a nice middle name, though. You don't think it fits me?"

"No comment," she answers simply. She searches through the pillows and blankets in her immediate area and finds a rubber band to pull her hair into a quick ponytail.

"At least I know how to get you up now, 'cause everyone's waiting for you."

"Sorry. Tough night."

"If you're really that tired, you don't have to go." It sounds almost like a request, and he offers her a sheepish grin.

"I'm fine."

"I just don't want you to work yourself too hard. Relaxing is good."

"I'm perfectly relaxed."

"Right. When was the last time you had a good sleep? Slept through the night, no problem?" It’s a harder question than she’d anticipated, and he raises his eyebrows at her hesitation. The feeling of being right is one that never gets old for him. “What was it? Nightmares or…”

“Yeah. But seriously, Cole--it’s fine. I set it aside and...do what I need to. You do the same thing, don’t you? We really don’t have another choice…”

“I don’t have them anymore, actually.”

She’s honestly so surprised, she can’t think of something to say at first. “You don’t?” she asks, and he shakes his head. “Since when?”

“A few weeks ago.” He’d expected them to come back after the incident with Chloe, but they didn’t. It’s so refreshing to be able to go through the night without waking up in a cold sweat, haunting images keeping him up until the sun rises. He wishes he could pinpoint the source of the change, but he’s just hoping his nights stay this way for a long while. “Mostly good dreams, if I even have any at all.”

She’s legitimately, and visibly, delighted at this revelation, but before she can say anything, someone whacks the tent from the outside.

“You’ve got two minutes or we’re leaving you, girl,” Duke calls out. In a hurry now, Cole gives her a few words to stay safe, and she’s out the tent in just a few minutes.

For Duke, Conner’s sledgehammer has really come to good use. He and Tora are tackling their own cluster of infected in the hospital’s lot, and he gives the hammer another hefty swing. It connects with the head of a single infected. He brings the hammer down, and its brain is smashed between steel and asphalt.

Tora works with a more simple weapon: a crowbar. It’s light and durable enough, and with a few strong swings, Duke gives her a couple impressed glances as she pops the skulls of a few infected.

Elsewhere, it’s not as easy. Dean, never the most physically adept, struggles to keep up with the surrounding infected with his modest knife. He pierces one’s eye and cringes at the disgusting mix of squishing and popping. “Could use a little help over here!” he shouts as the corpse hits the ground. “Please!”

Daniel is there quick, baseball bat at the ready. He gives one swing, then another, then a few more, resulting in the bodies of about six infected to tumble down lifelessly. Dean stabs another infected right in the center of its forehead, but he sees that Daniel has their section mostly covered. Less work for him.

Adam and Lucy cover the area nearest the front doors. Each with a knife, with his being slightly longer and heftier, they’re happy to see they’ve made some progress here. The accumulation of infected has lessened dramatically in the past fifteen minutes, and if they can just hold off their exhaustion for little while, they’ll be inside soon.

Adam grabs the last infected roughly by the shirt. It growls, reaches up--but he digs the blade into its temple before it can do any damage to him and tosses it to the ground worthlessly. He doubles over with his hands on his knees and catches his breath for the first time. He looks up at Lucy, leaning against a nearby wall and composing herself as well, and gives her an approving nod. He looks to see a few straggling infected still being taken care of by everyone else, but it doesn’t take long for them to be dealt with.

The hospital’s waiting area is the first thing they have to traverse. A long counter is on the right, an ancient computer monitor set atop it, and the receptionist is still sitting in the chair. The woman’s body has been reduced to a skeleton, and flies zip around her body. They move past her without a second thought and carefully walk over the overturned chairs and bodies that line the floor.

The hospital’s layout is simple enough. The bottom floor is mostly lobbies, gift shops, and the cafeteria. Upstairs is where it gets a little trickier, since the lower levels give off an aura of peacefulness that doesn’t resonate on the upper floors. Low groans emerge from unknown rooms, and the few lanterns they have don’t offer enough light to put them at ease. But they continue their search, and on the third floor, Adam orders a split of two groups of three.

Adam, Duke, and Daniel take one half of the corridor, and Tora, Daniel, and Lucy take the other half.

Duke leads, holding the lantern far out in front of him. Adam walks to his right and Dean trails behind. It's been easy to notice Adam's more sulking attitude during these last couple of days, but Duke has been hesitant to bring it up. Add to that the stress about what to do with Hunter, he's not really sure if he wants to mention it. But Duke takes a few seconds to listen closely; he can't hear anything but the haphazard patter of their footsteps on tile.

"Yo," Duke says, and Adam turns his head toward him. "You doing okay, man?"

Adam looks at him oddly. "Yeah...not really the best time for deep conversation, though."

"Yeah. Right, my bad." Their simple conversation dies out, and they turn into one of the rooms. Here, they find nothing, and the same is true for the three rooms they check afterwards. Growing more annoyed with their lack of reward, they continue on. It's clear that they're leaving behind the nicer section of the hospital, given how the floors now are dirtier, more cracked and fragile. They turn another corner, but come to a full stop immediately.

The corridor ends a few meters down, because half of the floor has completely collapsed. The floor below is entirely visible, and they take a few steps forward. "Holy shit," Duke mutters. "How the hell does that even happen?"

"I don't know," Dean says, taking another step toward the floor's end. He looks down at a few infected roaming below. "Looks like--" he begins, and the rest of his words are cut off and replaced with a fearful scream as the edge crumbles under his feet. Stepped just a little too close.

Dean tumbles to the floor below, landing on his stomach with an uncomfortable thud. He writhes around in the debris, struggling to breathe, and he deduces immediately he at least brusied his ribs, but if not, then he's definitely broken a few. Duke and Adam have no choice but to just look down at him; the ceiling's too high for them to jump down without hurting themselves, too. Adam looks to Duke for a solution, but he's just as stumped.

"Dean! Just--just hold on! We're coming!" Adam says, hands cupped around his mouth. He and Duke sprint in the opposite direction, trying to remember the location of the staircase. Dean's head spins, and he barely heard Adam's order in his panic. All he did hear was the groaning of the infected plaguing this floor. He coughs and looks up. He can see the feet of three infected shambling toward him, and he flips onto his back with a struggle. He pulls his knife from its sheath and rises to his feet.

He grabs onto a nearby wall for stability and takes a few heavy breaths. Wildly, he gives his knife a swing, and it penetrates the cheek of the lead infected. Pulling it out, he stumbles back, but manages to regain his balance again. Turning and running is his next option, but a group of infected twice as large, amounting to six, makes their way toward him from that direction. Taking on the two makes more sense, so with a few well-placed stabs, they're soon on the ground, too.

Lucy leads Daniel and Tora down the corridor with the lantern. The light flickers, and she gives it a whack to return some of the power back into it. Daniel glances at Tora, confused by her behavior as of late. It’s as if she’s completely forgotten she showed any interest in him. She hasn’t brought it up, looked at him any differently. He’s completely baffled, but decides that this isn’t the most appropriate time to bring it up.

“This fucking thing,” Lucy mutters, hitting the lantern again. It flickers once more, then the light shines brightly again.

“Let me see it,” Daniel offers.

“I think it’s working again,” she says, but the lights shuts off again, for a fraction of a section, then returns to life. Tora laughs, and Lucy smirks at her. “Here.” Lucy hands the lantern to Daniel, and they continue on as he tries to get to the source of the problem.

“Hm…” he says. “Might need some new batteries. You guys got any?” Lucy and Tora do a quick check, but come up empty. “Okay, we’re gonna have to go dark for a few seconds.” He gets onto his knees and turns the lantern onto its side. At the bottom, there’s a small cover, where under, the batteries should be. He uses his knife to unscrew it, then pulls it off. He removes both batteries, and the corridor is sent into complete darkness. “Okay…” he mumbles.

He flips the placement of the batteries and replaces the cover. He tries to turn it on, but he curses under his breath when the light doesn’t return.

“Daniel…” Tora says, and he freezes his work to listen. There’s a low growling somewhere nearby, intermingled with rough shuffling.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Daniel whispers harshly. He replaces the batteries again and gives the lantern a firm hit.

No light.

“Jesus. Okay, I’ve got it,” Tora says, but Lucy grabs her by the arm. Before she can protest, Tora assures her again, “I’ve got it.” Lucy has no choice but to let her go, and Tora disappears into the dark.

She deduces the infected’s location with just her hearing. She knows if she can’t see it, it can’t see her; but she’s fully aware it has the advantage of smell. With her crowbar tight in hand, she tiptoes around the nearest corner, where the infected’s smell and growls are a lot stronger. She can tell it’s in the next room. She gives a wild swing when she reaches the door, and she feels the crowbar connect with something hard. Given the volume of groaning still, she knows there are a few more around.

She looks up, into the depths of the room before her. Huddled in a far corner, rows and rows of eyes stare back at her.

Dean sprints down the wrecked hospital hall, his arm wrapped around his aching abdomen. He stops short at a corner, as an infected blocks his path. He gives it a quick stab and pulls his knife out angrily. He can barely see anything, but his eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough for him to have some kind of idea of where he’s going. He squints at signs, looking for one that says ‘Stairwell’ so he can get back to Adam and Duke.

He mutters curses under his breath; it’s the only thing keeping him even relatively calm, but his panic is reaching his breaking point the farther he loses himself in the hospital. He tries to dodge the groaning sounds emanating from almost every corner, but the time eventually comes when he can’t escape it anymore.

The infected completely block the end of the corridor, and they see him as soon as he turns the corner. “Oh, God,” he says, and he zips away in the opposite direction. He’s completely lost, confused, dejected. Out of impulse, he sees an open door and hurries inside it. It’s an old doctor’s office, and he slams the door shut, cringing at his stupidity as he does so.

He hits himself with his palm on the side of his temple. He does it once more, his frustration boiling over. He can hear them approaching.

Lucy and Daniel turn at the quick patter of footsteps. They don’t even need to ask when they see Tora running toward them; they follow immediately, Daniel making sure to pick up the busted lantern. “A whole--room full of them,” Tora explains, out of breath, after a few moments of spriting. “Pretty sure they saw me.”

“Stairs,” Daniel says. Lucy and Tora follow his gaze and see the sign for a stairwell with an arrow pointing left. He speeds up and they follow. They can see the bright red of the stairwell door, but Daniel suddenly trips on a stray body, and he tumbles forward. The lantern collides with the floor, shattering loudly, and a few bits of glass dig into Daniel’s palms. He refuses to yell out, already aware of the commotion they’ve caused. Tora and Lucy pull him to his feet immediately, and he’s able to ignore the pain in his hands for now.

Tora rams her shoulder into the stairwell door, and it flings open. There’s some light from a busted window, but it’s still not much. She comes to a sudden halt, prompting Lucy and Daniel to do the same. Infected linger at the bottom of the first set of stairs, and their first impulse is to turn back. But the group that followed them is so much bigger than this one--they give each other a few nervous glances and come to the silent conclusion that clearing out the stairwell is much more manageable.

Tora takes the lead confidently; she whacks an infected across the jaw with a crowbar. Lucy stabs one next to her, and Daniel pulls his pack over his head and retrieves his bat. It’s a struggle in this confined space, but Tora takes the brunt of the work. She walks down the stairs, slowly, swinging as she does toward the infected that block her way. Lucy glances at Daniel, a bit worried, as he tries to swing his bat. He’s having difficulty what with the glass in his hands and their obvious exhaustion, but she helps him out as much as she can as they proceed down the stairs.

“Daniel, behind you!” she shouts, and he turns, a little too slowly. An infected lunges at him, and Daniel hits the ground on his back at the base of the stairs. He yells out, and Tora turns in surprise, in front of the door that leads to the lobby.

Daniel’s bat now out of his grasp, he attempts to push the infected off with his hands, but his efforts are a failure. The infected latches its teeth onto two of his fingers and takes out a chunk. Daniel screams in pain, and a blade soon digs into the back of its head, the tip poking out of its forehead.

Lucy pulls the knife out, grabs the infected by the back of the shirt, and drags its body off of Daniel. He clutches his hand to his chest, trying his best not to yell out. “Come on, you’ve gotta get up,” Lucy says, ushering him to his feet. Tora swings the door open. It connects with the face of a final infected, and it falls to the ground. With Daniel finally to his feet, they hurry out into the hospital’s bottom floor.

Cole sits in front of his tent with his notebook and a bag of food at his side. He’s got nowhere else to go, nor can he go anywhere. Such a monotonous life, and he's getting tired of it. At least they're nearly out of Nebraska now, according to their map. Just a little closer to Los Angeles.

He turns his head at the sound of a tent unzipping. Hunter emerges from the tent next to his, rubbing his eyes. "Good morning," Cole calls out, and Hunter provides him with a half-hearted wave. "Got some food here. You hungry?"

"Uh, no thanks."

"You sure?" Cole reaches into the bag and pulls out a can of ravioli. He thought over Lucy's question ever since she left for the run: how would he feel if he was in Hunter's shoes? But he's been in them before, and he's reacted even more harshly than Hunter did. There's no way Cole can blame him for what he did to Cedric, but he doesn't know how else he can make Hunter feel better, except maybe the simple offer of sharing a lunch.

"Could eat, I guess," Hunter says. He walks over and plops himself down on the grass next to Cole. He opens up the can, and Cole reaches into the bag again, this time offering him a plastic spoon.

Cole cracks open his notebook for a little while as Hunter eats. It's totally silent for the majority of the time, and when Cole's out of things to write, he finally caps his pen and sets it and the notebook aside. "Just thought you should know I've got your back. In case you were wondering," Cole says after a while.

Hunter glances at him, then takes another bite. "Thanks," he mumbles. "Might as well fucking leave if some of these fucks really want to kick me out...Idiots don't know what the hell it's like...her fucking murderer was--right there. I'm not just gonna..." He trails off and scratches his head.

"That's why I'm on your side. I know what it’s like. Not gonna let them get rid of you, man."

Hunter looks at him, a bit disbelieving. "What the hell'd you do?" Hunter asks. Cole doesn't really seem to be the vengeful type, so he finds himself filled with intrigue.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you know what it's like."

"Oh. Right."

"Not bullshitting me, are you?"

"No, man, of course not," Cole says. "It's tough to talk about, I think you understand that." Cole almost feels guilty. He hasn't spoken about her--let alone thought about her--for so long, when he feels like he should have. It's like he's repressed a huge chunk of his life for the sake of making himself feel better, but he realizes now she doesn't deserve to be forgotten.

"She was a friend. A really good friend--I met her during the beginning of everything," Cole begins, a bit begrudgingly. "We just--we were close. And I could trust her more than anyone I've met...in my entire life. Even before this." He takes a sharp breath, and wrings his hands together. "It's a really long fucking story, but I watched this guy kill her. Stabbed her like it was nothing--like she was nothing. She turned, too, and--" He looks at Hunter, who nods, coming to his own conclusion. "The guy--when I got my hands on him it was like...I didn't know what I was doing. I couldn't control it--I killed him and I--I fucking loved it." He clenches his fists together involuntarily, reliving the sensation of his hands wrapped around Walter's neck, squeezing away every ounce of life...

Hunter can tell Cole is done, and gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "You did the right thing," Hunter says. "You don't spare fuckers like that. Scum of the fucking Earth."

''"Found the skyway, huh?" Cole asks, walking toward Billie down the empty corridor that makes up the Hyatt's skyway. Each side is lined with windows that give an unmatched view of the city. It's only their second day here, and they're still trying to get used to how surreal it all is.''

''"Yeah. It's really nice," she says, letting her gaze linger out the window for a few moments before deciding to look at him. He stops next to her and marvels at the distant view of skyscrapers pressed against night sky.''

''"Understatement of the fucking year. Look at that." He gives her a brief look, but she doesn't notice. "You like it here?"''

''She mulls over the possible answers. "...Is it weird I think this is weird?"''

"Why's it weird?"

"We were living in a shitty office building a few days ago. And now we're in a five star hotel during the fucking apocalypse."

"We can always go back," he says.

"No thanks."

"So you do like it?"

''She shrugs. "I guess."''

''He scoffs. "You're ridiculous." She smirks and looks at him curiously.''

''"Why?" she asks.''

"Why? You just said it. We're living in a five star hotel during the fucking apocalypse. How is that not completely amazing to you?"

''"It is. But it's like...it's fake. We're hiding." By his lack of response, she assumes he wants a better explanation. "This isn't gonna make me happier, Cole. Nice views and soft pillows and fake fucking smiles." She says it so bluntly, it takes him a while to think of an answer.''

''"You don't know that yet," he says. "Give it a few months." She stares down at her shoes. "This can really be what we need. Don't throw it out the window because you're pissed off."''

''She sighs and crosses her arms. "I know, I'm--I'm sorry." She pauses and takes a trembling breath. "It's hard--" she begins, then cuts herself off. She doesn't have to say it: he knows more than anyone how hard it is to move on. She doesn't want to have some kind of emotional collapse--she's had enough of those these last few weeks--so she pulls him into a hug he's not really prepared for. He returns it with just as much certainty; he probably needs it as much as she does.''

''"This place is a good thing. Try to make it work, okay?" he says.''

''"Okay," she says, the single word barely audible. She finally pulls herself away, offers him a quick good night, and she retreats down the corridor with her hands in her pockets. Before she exits through the door, she pauses, turns, and smiles at him weakly, briefly.''

He reciprocates it and gives her a small wave.