Ninth Instalment

Sterilized Shadows

Grayson had led the way to the hospital with almost no trouble at all. Again, he’d taken point, Saunders and Johansson coming behind him in a delta formation while they were going down streets, and crossing one at a time when they came to intersections, taking turns on who went first and last. They made it in just under a half hour. The hospital stood like a ghost in the dying moonlight, a few scattered clouds drifted over the stars, and as the ambient light dropped their vision through the NV goggles dimmed just enough to send a shiver down their spines. A melancholic breeze crawled through the city and blew squat clouds of dust about the ground; making eddies in the nooks and crannies of the hospital building. Its façade had been facing away from the blast, and a series of squat concrete buildings had blocked most of the major damage to the building, so it had suffered only shattered windows and a few holes blown in the back of the building. The air conditioning units and generators had been thrown from the roof and landed in the parking lot near the front entrance crushing cars and spreading fire through the area, covering the parking lot in the burned out hulks of cars thrown haphazardly around by gas tank explosions.
Grayson held his hand up in a fist and dropped to a crouch as they approached the outskirts of the parking lot, the rest followed suit. They made a miniature huddle in the husks of cars that had been thrown together into a semi-circle of cover as Saunders laid out the plan. “Ok, here’s what we’re going to do. There’s three of us to five floors of run down hospital. Now, we’ve got throat mic’s, so I think we can safely split up, just keep your eyes and ears open and don’t rush into any situations you don’t need to. If you see anything at all that isn’t one of us three, shoot first and ask questions later. If whatever it is can be dropped quietly, do so, if there’s more than one and they don’t see you, radio quietly for some back up. No hero’s today. All a hero is is someone who lasts just long enough to do something stupid and get everyone dead. Keep in touch, report in every five minutes or so, anyone doesn’t report in in ten minutes, priority one for the other two is to link up and then find the third. We’ve got six breaching charges, don’t use ‘em unless the door is locked and you can’t kick it in, and especially not if you can’t read the sign. If we can’t find the stuff by 0400, we bust back to the encampment and lug Hernandez back to the base. Ready?” “Yes sir.” “Hoorah” “Alright, let’s get a move on then.” They rose as a group and moved towards the hospital, splitting up as they reached the entrance area. Saunders covered the first two floors, Grayson made his way to the stairway escorting Johansson, then got the fourth and fifth floors, Johansson covered the third floor. The theory was that Saunders and Grayson would do two floors each, and would have Johansson on support after he finished his one floor.
The hallways smelled dank, the stench of rotting flesh stinging the nostrils. The patients had been abandoned by most of the scared doctors and nurses, a few brave souls staying behind in a vain attempt to save the lives of those they could. There were gurneys spilled over in the hallways with rotting corpses still wrapped in formerly pristine sheets. Saunders was taking it slow, sweeping every nook and cranny as he worked his way in a circular path around the first floor. He didn’t think he was going to have much luck though, it was looking like this was mostly small doctor offices, reception rooms, a few scattered meeting rooms, and a multi-section cafeteria. He continued sweeping till he got to a stairwell disconnected from the main stairs. The plaque by the door was barely legible under an all too ominous smeared bloody handprint, bold face letters proclaimed it to be the basement. Saunders backed up till he came to a doctor’s office and after rummaging through the doors placed a piece of tape across the stairway down to the basement then proceeded on in his sweep of the first floor, radioing in as he re-entered the receptionists room where he’d started the sweep.
Grayson pointed Johansson to the third floor, then made his way up to the fifth, starting his search in a far corner and working his way through the corridors and patients rooms methodically. The top floor looked to be set up for private practices, a few scattered offices, an ample amount of pediatricians’ waiting rooms, and various other physicians’ rooms populated the area. Grayson took off the NV goggles, the moon and stars were shining through the mostly devastated roof and top edge of the walls on the side of the hospital he was on, and the green visual from the goggles had gotten to bright for his eyes, giving him a headache. He cautiously walked through the glassless frame of a doorway, a few remaining pieces of glass crunching softly under his feet. The room he entered had obviously been a waiting room geared towards children, singed wallpaper decorated with inappropriately happy cartoon characters was still visible in a few of the remote corners. The ceiling was collapsed for a few feet past the juncture with the outside wall, insulation and wiring hanging limply from the gapping hole and broken ceiling tiles lay against the far wall. The outside wall was jagged and broken, with pieces of broken masonry laying scattered across the floor nearby and signs of a brief fire played around a destroyed play house in the far corner of the room. Grayson walked to the window sill and looked out over the ruined city. The moon gave him enough light to see fairly well, and its position in the top of the sky eliminated most of the shadows from the extinct buildings. He scanned the area of the city around him. Most of it had been flattened or devastated enough to make it virtually impassable, but a few buildings still stood behind the hospital, the same buildings had taken much of the force from the blast. The rooftops were lower, the overall buildings being about three stories tall; they were swept clean by the blast, leaving flat spaces. As Grayson watched, his eyes started to pick out a form that looked like it was sprinting across the rooftops. The figure ran with startling quickness, slowing for a moment, it looked as if it was looking behind itself, then sped up again and took a flying leap from the edge of the roof it was on. A large cloud blocked the moon and Grayson lost sight of everything. He scrambled to get his goggles back on, and turned them on in time to see the same figure running across the next roof over, having apparently made the landing. With the aid of the NV goggles, he could make out not only the figure running out in front, but three or four crouched figures moving almost as fast if not fast behind it. Grayson flinched slightly as he realized that the lead figure was running for its life. As they passed a outcropping on the roof, he saw the figure rip something off the wall and glance back again at the pursuing figures. The runner reached a ladder for a fire escape and took another jump off the building, catching the edge of the ladder with an outstretched hand and viciously swinging itself down and kicking off the wall to drop onto the fire escape stairway. Grayson radioed in to Saunders, relating the story as he watched a first figure start closing the gap between it and the runner who lept cleanly over the railing at one end of the stairway, landing with a roll on the top of a dumpster, dropping from that and out of sight of Grayson. The close figure followed him off the stairway, the rest holding back watching. As the chaser landed on the dumpster, it was enveloped in flames. The top of the dumpster had burst into flames. Grayson watched on as the figure that had been being chased rose from the edge of the flames at the base of the dumpster, turned, and fired three shots from a pistol. Two of the figures on the stairway dropped instantly from what looked like headshots, and the third was blown backwards, the fire light revealing a dark spray of blood. A savage howl split the air and the hair on the back of Grayson’s neck stood up. He radioed Saunders “Sir, something’s going down outside, doesn’t look like anything good either. We’ve got an unknown person killing what looks likes more of those cultists, looks like he stirred up a hell of a hornets’ nest somewhere and he’s heading our direction.” The figure that had been the runner started to pick his way through scattered debris to the back area of the hospital. Grayson could tell he was taking it slow, possibly injured, and completely unaware that the wounded cultist was trailing him about thirty feet back and sticking to the shadows.
Johansson finished his search of the third floor, checked in via radio, and started taking over Grayson’s search of the fourth floor. He hadn’t seen much, the area had been easily evacuated. The third floor had been the ER and the x-ray and other imaging equipment, so the amount of people was minimal. He did grab three unopened sterile surgery kits with scalpels, needles, and all the other works. He radioed to Saunders his findings and they agreed to meet back in the first floor lobby with Grayson. He packed up the surgical kits and lopped back to the stairway, meeting Grayson on his way down.
Saunders was waiting on them in the lobby, the grim look on his face made eerie through the night vision. Johansson and Grayson stopped short and Saunders made the rest of the distance to them. “Ok, we’ve got the scalpel and some more syringes thanks to Johansson. I found a doctor’s note in his office that makes me think the medicine and the like are held in a basement office, only problem is I think there are more of those cultists down there, or at least nearby.” Grayson looked up “Sir?” “Well, the few instances I’ve seen of these bastards camping out somewhere have had bloody hand prints somewhere near the edge of the doors. I don’t know why they do it, but two out of two times it’s held true so I’m thinking the third time won’t change anything. Now, we all heard Grayson’s report on the attack he saw outside. Didn’t end to well for the cultists, if that’s what the things chasing that guy were, so I’m thinking now’s a good time to bust them in the chops downstairs, while they’re still reeling from the run and gun outside.” “Don’t forget sir, last I saw of that guy he was running this way. Could be he knows something we don’t, or worse yet, could be he’s leading them here for whatever reason.” “Right, so we’re going to do this pretty damn quick and get the hell out of dodge. Sound good?” “Sounds like a plan, sir.” “I’m up for it.” “Good, good. Johansson, take your SPAS and run point, Grayson behind him with the UMP45, and I’ll take up the rear with my M4. Make sure you can get to your knives and side arms in case it gets dirty. Let’s move out, no need to play it quiet, so we’re going noisy.”