[bimg=fleft|no-lightbox]116356[/bimg]
Remington Austen
Tullytown - Bastille Hospital
Tuesday, November 17, 2020
6:45 pm
A short-cut nail scratched absently at the slim left wrist of a woman. There, on the lateral side of that wrist, just below the thumb, was a
mark that appeared similar to a tattoo. One short brushstroke from left to right, then a straight line downward, that line intersected numerous times by a circling spiral. The woman glanced down at the mark, frowning a little in response. It didn't really itch, but she knew it was there, which was enough to bother her. Considering that she had no tattoos and no birthmarks, this thing was somewhat of a conundrum. It had been there when she awoke this morning before work and yet, after trying fervently to wash it off, it had proved to be permanent and almost even looked like she'd had it for a while. Sadly, she'd had no time to ponder on it much today. It was such a busy day.
Speaking of which, here she was in the Operating Room, the sound of metal instruments clinking lightly as she arranged them carefully in place. Remington hated laparoscopics. It was much preferred to just cut a good chunk of the abdomen open and do what needed to be done. It was so much easier to see what was going on when you were looking directly at the body instead of a screen. Sure, the patient liked the smaller scars better than the large ones but they probably never thought about how annoying these procedures were. After bringing in the last tray of supplies, Remi began to prepare her own sterile gear. She set up the sterile drape and pulled it open to reveal the patient's whole right abdomen where they would be making the incisions. Now, she was all set to go when the
surgeon came in and began to help him put on his sterile gown and then gloves as she mused over today's menu.
There are ups and downs to every job, she thought;
take the good with the bad. She couldn't tell, but she thought the surgeon might have given her a smile behind his mask, probably noticing her less-than-pleased expression. This expression was of course due to the fact that she had just gotten off of an eight-hour shift and had been called back in to do another surgery which would take almost two hours, not including the prep and tear-down. She eyed the surgeon over her mask. This man was the one whom she had disappeared on five years ago. He had stood behind her when she returned and helped convince the hospital board that she deserved her job back. Remi had been stuck to his side ever since and they seemed to like it that way. It was much easier to work as a team that knew each other instead of getting a random technician or surgeon every time you went in for surgery. Though there were still times here or there where she would be called in to assist a different doctor, she looked up to this one with most of the respect her body could hold. So when his eyes smiled at her, she tried to give a smile back, glad to be assigned to this guy over all the crazy, demanding, mean surgeons she could have worked with.
With her foot, she scooted the instrument tray over so they both could reach. Her favorite surgeon in the world gestured to the non-sterile nurse and she flicked on the radio. Country music from the early 2000s began to flow through the room and they both smirked. Another reason she liked this guy better than the others.
"Ready?" He asked.
Remington nodded, scrubbing down the incision sites with alcohol scrubs.
"Yes, Sir." She drawled out in a slight southern accent. She handed him his scalpel and waited for him to begin.
How long would this surgery take, she wondered. There was a show on tonight that she really wanted to watch. Though she knew she would end up missing it, it was always nice to hope.
7:03 pm
Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, they never got to make those first cuts. Scalpel primed and ready to slice away at some unconscious guy's skin, they were all suddenly distracted by the sound of screaming coming from the hallways. Both looked up, but neither the surgeon nor the technician moved. In sterile garb they did not want to desterilize and have to do it all over again. Instead the nurse poked her head out the door and peered around the wall to see what was happening. As if drawn to her, a bright red sphere blew right into the room through the open door, passing through the nurse as it appeared. She shuddered in what appeared to be pain and then suddenly began to vomit up red liquid that looked like blood. The poor nurse garbled out a few painful moans and by that time the red orb had made its way to the operating table. Remington froze in fear, watching it zoom right up to her, hover for a moment, and then bolt away. In its path, it breezed right through the surgeon and caused him to fall to the ground in the same display that the nurse had shown.
Terror iced her veins. The two affected staff finally rose to their feet once again and turned their heads to peer up at the sky as if something up there was talking to them. After a moment of looking up with them to see what might be up there, Remi found nothing. When she realized that nothing was happening and returned her attention to the room, the nurse was already advancing in her direction. The surgeon, Remi's most respected person, had gotten back up only to bite a huge chunk out of the unconscious patient's exposed stomach.
"Stop! Please! Doctor, what are ya doin'?" She yelled at them but they obviously did not care. After one bite, both of them were advancing on her now and when she took a second to look passed them at the door, she could see yet another bloody-looking creature shuffling its way into the room. The small gauze clamp in her hand fell away as if she had forgotten it entirely – and she had really. Her heart began to race, adrenaline pumping through her and then suddenly… all seemed calm in her head once again. The mounting, out of place anxiety she had felt for the last four years dissipated into nothingness. She was still afraid and yet she felt numb to it as if she was feeling it through a second party. Get out. Get out and run. Don't look back. Her brain, now composed once again, urged her to move, and her arms and legs did so without allowing her to think twice about it.
Remi took a step back, using her foot to pull her utensil tray back with her until she had a clear shot away from the procedure table. She kicked the tray forward and it rolled into the nurse who was standing in her way to the door, knocking the nurse over and causing the tray to fall on top of her, procedure instruments cascading down on her. Luckily, the good – now bad? – doctor was trying to work his way around the head end of the bed which gave her room on the foot end to get to the door. So she left him there and headed toward the door, ducking around the third thing that had entered and slamming through the doors to get out of the room. She pulled the long sterile glove from her left hand and tied it around the door handles to hold them closed. It would not last long if those things had any strength whatsoever, but she had to try. The sound of screaming brought her mind to the hall behind her where staff and patients alike were running chaotically through the building. Some still seemed to be alive more or less, while others looked like the cast from any zombie flick she had ever seen – only somehow worse.
"Now don't go tellin' me that the damned zombie apocalypse has started." She was talking to herself, obviously, considering that the only other surviving people were running away and screaming – probably something she should be doing, too. Something was telling her not to even try to come near those things, people or not. With another infected person meandering her way, she figured now would be the best time to do just that.
Turning on her heel, Remi booked it down the hall, attempting to make it to the locker room. She had an overnight bag in there for just-in-case moments and assumed that now would be considered one of those moments. Somehow, she was able to get around any infected people by hiding and dodging and without having to get violent and managed to make it to the locker room where she yanked open her own locker and grabbed her bag out. Throwing the locker shut, she encountered one of the nursing staff standing uncomfortably close. A scream almost ripped from her mouth before the nurse smacked her hand over Remi's face to keep her quiet. This one was alive apparently.
"Shhh…. Those things can hear us." The
nurse, whose name Remi did not know, backed them both up against the lockers and held very still for a moment, glancing around to make sure they were alone before she moved her hand away from Remi's mouth.
"Don't be so loud, they'll follow even the slightest sound." The nurse took a step back to give them some room from each other and began digging in her scrub pockets. She revealed a hand full of syringes from one of her pockets. Remi's eyes widened.
"What are doin' with those?!" She whispered in a mild panic.
"haloperidol–promethazine combo." The nurse shrugged. It appeared she wasn't willing to tell where she got it. Maybe she worked on the Psych floor? The only reason to have something like that was to sedate someone as quickly as possible.
"Does it work?" Remi asked.
"On those things?" The nurse shrugged again.
"Haven't tested it yet, but we'll probably get to find out." The RN began to take some things from her other pockets as well, revealing a
pulse oximeter, 2 black pens, 1 black sharpie, a square of bright pink sticky notes, her cell phone, a couple squares of alcohol swabs, and a clump of blue latex-free gloves she must have been hording in her pocket. She also pulled off her neon-green green
stethoscope – complete with a ladybug attachment and a clip with her name on it [Rosey Karr] and sat it on the floor in front of them with the other supplies.
"I'll let you have a couple of these just in case." She pushed two of the many syringes she had into Remi's hand and then moved to her own locker, pulling a bag out as well. Remi put the syringes in her overnight bag as the two huddled there on the floor, determining what supplies they had and what they might be able to do next. They were only there for a few minutes before they could hear the groan of something coming closer. It was already inside the locker room. Rosey apparently decided to take action, grabbing one of her syringes and approaching the corpse-like person which was dragging its feet closer and closer to them. She jabbed the needle into its arm but had gotten too close and let her guard down to do so, so the zombie-like man who had come in bit into Rosey's shoulder. The nurse shrieked in pain, having just enough time to push the plunger of her syringe before crumpling to the ground, holding her wound and sniffling. The creature; however, was no longer interested in the fallen woman and instead turned its gaze on Remi. It was slow in its pursuit, so Remi grabbed all the supplies that Rosey had left on the floor and stuffed them into her overnight bag.
She pulled the bag onto her shoulder and rolled around the zombie guy, who was now starting to slow down even more. The creature wobbled a few times on its feet and then collapsed to the ground. Remi took note of the effect and yanked the other woman up forcefully to pull her along out of the locker room. They were gone again in a flash, tearing down the hallway to make it to the stairwell. Even in a place that preached health, no one ever used the stairwell so she doubted there would be many run-ins. She sped down the stairs as fast as she could without tripping and falling over herself and while still pulling the moaning nurse behind her and then burst through the fire exit door at the very bottom which put them outside at the back of the building. Another wave of fear engulfed her. Those things… zombies… whatever they were… were everywhere. Even in the parking lots and on the roads. She could see the red orbs, the same as the one she had encountered in the operating room, flying through the streets. As quickly as they were there, they were gone again and the supernatural occurrence sped away as if it had someplace else to be.
Where could she go from here? And now she was dragging along an injured person. In the cold.
Not sure what else to do, Remi fixed her bag onto her shoulder and began to make her way down 71st street, trying to figure out where to go. Should she go back to her apartment? Could she even make it there? Now, dressed in her mint green scrubs, a surgical gown, mask, scrub cap, and her remaining right glove, Remi jogged down the street, ducking in and out from behind cars and buildings. It wasn't on her mind at all how she had forgotten to take off her surgical mask and still wore it over her mouth and nose. Maybe that was best –
is this airborne or…? Her mind shot back to Rosey who was barely keeping up behind her and still clutching her shoulder.
"…Or through the bloodstream." The surgeon bit someone as well. She stared at the injured and palling woman in front of her.
What now?
