Apex Predator (24 page)

“I guess it’s pretty bad there.”

“That’s what it sounds like.  He says the CDC is still going, but the rest of the city is totally over-run.”

“At least the CDC is still up,” Jen added as she walked towards them.  “Maybe they can find a cure for all of this.”

“Let’s hope,” the NCO replied.

“Ok guys,” the Lieutenant barked.  “Let’s get going.  Get the kids loaded up and get moving.”  The group loaded up.

Lt. Cruzan had ordered the group to cross over I-20, and find Highway 80.  He and his engineers would ride in the humvee, Pvt Jackson and SSgt Brown along with all the civilians would ride in the truck.

They spent an uneventful day driving through a totally deserted town and through some similarly deserted countryside.

“Jesus Jen, you see this?”  It was Mike.  “It’s five PM, and I’ve only seen two zombies all day.”

“I know.  It’s creepy,” she replied.  Theresa and Kerry both shook their heads in agreement.

“I’m not complaining,” he said.  “But, I just know the other shoe is going to fall.  And, when it does more people are gonna die.  I just can’t shake the feeling that something bad is just around the corner.”

“I don’t know,” Kerry added.  “Maybe it’s time we caught a break.  Maybe being this far out of town there aren’t enough people to make a bunch of zombies.”

“She has a point,” Jen said.  “That’s usually how it works with an outbreak.  As the numbers of susceptible population decreases, the numbers of infections decrease.  Eventually the disease burns itself out.  Maybe around here the population is too spread out to support an outbreak.”

“So what we need to do is stay away from people?” Theresa asked.

“But that comes with some problems,” interjected Kerry.

“What do you mean?” asked Theresa.

“You know how to farm?  How about milk a cow?  We as people rely on others.  Some people provide food; others provide shelter, security, make and maintain transportation.  Some deal with power or water.  In a modern society, very few people can survive without other people around.”

She shook her head.  “Hell, I know how to stock shelves and sell sporting goods.  Throw in some good math, and English scores from school and that’s about it.  I don’t hunt.  I don’t fish.  I’m not a nurse, or doctor, or farmer.  Hell, in this new society, I’m pretty much good for helping with the cleaning, maybe security.  I need other people to help me survive.”

“You’re selling yourself short,” Mike retorted.  “You work in retail right?”

“Yeah, ever since I could hold a job.”

“So, you know about inventory control right?  That’s logistics and supply.  That helps keep all those non-farmer types fed.  You know trade.  The mercantile class has been the backbone of almost every society since the Greeks.  Na, just ‘cause you can’t grow tomatoes, doesn’t mean you’re worth less than anyone else.  Plus, I’ve seen you shoot.  I’ll keep you watching my back any day of the week.”

“The point I’m making is this:  We need each other to survive.  But, the more of us there are together, the less likely we are to survive.  It’s a Catch-22.  How do we survive the zombies without total isolation and starvation?”

Mike didn’t know what to say.  She had a point.

“We have to eradicate the disease,” Jen interjected.

“What?” asked Mike.

“If we can’t survive in the presence of a new plague, then we have to isolate and eradicate the plague.  Historically this would mean vaccination. That’s why there’s no smallpox, and very little polio left in the world.  We just need to do the same here.”

“So, how do you vaccinate against this?” asked Theresa.  “You can’t mean doing that thing that Edward Jenner did with the cowpox are you?”

“Who’s Edward Jenner?” asked Mike.

“He was the first man to vaccinate someone,” Jen replied.  “He exposed people to the cowpox virus, and found that those people were less likely to catch smallpox.”

She looked at Theresa.  “No sweat heart, I don’t think that would work.  Jenner had a disease that mirrored small pox in cows.  I can’t think of a disease that fits this model.  I mean rabies is close, but once you die from rabies, you’re dead.”

She looked back to the rest of the group.  “I mean that the way a vaccination works, is that it lets your body develop defenses against a disease before you have to go to the trouble of actually catching it.  It lets your body’s defenses go out and kill the invader before it kills you.”

“So, you’re saying that we need to go on the offensive?” Kerry interjected excitedly.  “We are the defenses to the body that is humanity.  We need to destroy these things and end the infection.”

“Yes,” Jen replied.  “We need to gather our forces, protect them from further infection, and then find a way to destroy the invaders.”

“Damn Jen,” Mike said.  “You’d have made a good General.  You missed your calling.”

“Give it back!”  It was one of the students.  She was holding on desperately to a package of doughnuts. “Get your own Scott!”  She continued yelling

“Get another one.  This one is mine,” the boy replied.

“Let go!”  She pulled hard.

“Fine!  You can have it!”  The boy let go, laughing.  The girl tumbled backwards.  At the same time, the truck hit a rut in the road, sending everyone in the bed of the truck bouncing around.

“Cindy!”  Scott called out.  “She fell out!  Stop!  She fell!”

Mike immediately slapped the cab of the truck.  “Stop!  Jackson, stop the truck!”  The young trooper slammed on the breaks.

Jen, Theresa, and the three teachers jumped out of the bed of the truck and ran to the girl.  She was lying on her back.  There was a large cut on the right side of her forehead blood was oozing from her nose.  She was not moving.

Jen’s trauma assessment only took a few moments:  Loss of consciousness, that’s bad.  Airway: ok.  Breathing: labored and gasping, not good either.  Circulation: so far fingers were pink with good capillary refill.  Deformity:  No step-offs in the neck.  Limbs appear to be straight.  Exposure:  Bruising to the right side of chest.  When she pressed over the bruise, Jen could feel bone crunching under her fingers.  This is called crepitus, a sign of broken bones.  Shit!

She looked up.  SSgt Brown and the new officer were standing over her.  “We have a problem.  I think she’s got some broken ribs.  Look at her breathing.  One of those ribs may have punctured a lung.  It will eventually collapse if I don’t let the air out.”

“How do you do that,” asked the young officer.

“I can either insert a needle, or chest-tube.  I’ve never done either, but we have to do something or she could die.  This is life threatening.”

Jen didn’t even mention the loss of consciousness.  She had no idea if there’s a bleed in her head, and wouldn’t without a CT.  That was out of the question at this point.  She’d just have to monitor her neurological status to tell her if there was a brain injury.

“I need someone to get something to stabilize her neck.  I don’t know if she has a neck injury.  Get a towel or heavy shirt or something, and some duct tape.”

Jackson returned with the requested items.  Jen rolled the shirt up and wrapped it loosely around the young girl’s neck, supporting her chin and the back of her head.

“Sit her up a little.  Mike, hold her head still.”  They did.  She wrapped the tape around girl’s neck, keeping her head and neck in line.

“Good.  Get her into the truck.  Keep her as straight as you can.”  She looked to Lt. Cruzan.  “Sir we need to get her to some kind of treatment facility.  A doctor’s office or vet’s office would be ok.  A nice empty hospital would be better, but I’m not keeping my hopes up.”

“We passed an animal hospital about five miles back,” SSgt Brown reported.  “Will that work for you?”

“An animal hospital around here is going to be equipped for large animals.  That’ll work.”

“Ok, load up folks!” barked the Lieutenant.

A couple of minutes later, they were heading back west towards the animal hospital.  Jen was hovering over her new patient.  The girl was in bad shape.  Jen found her to have a Glasgow Comma Scale of 6.  She did withdraw from pain, but that was it.  A normal GSC is 15.  The bench the girl was lying on had a GCS of 3.

Her breathing had neither improved nor deteriorated.  Upon further inspection, Jen determined that the girl most likely had a flail chest.  Several sections of multiple ribs had broken, forming a sharp section of rib that sunk into the chest with every breath.  She needed to stabilize it.  She needed an IV bag.  She pointed to the closest teacher.

“You, lean over here.” He did.  “Hold your hand firmly, right here.  Don’t keep her from breathing, but you are stabilizing her broken ribs.”  He did as he was told.

Soon, they arrived at the animal hospital.  LT. Cruzan and his Engineers entered the building first.  There were no zombies inside, but the building was not empty.  There was a tabby cat sitting on the receptionist desk.  It had obviously not eaten in several days.  In the kennel area, there were several dogs.  They also looked as if they had not been fed or cared for in several days.  The cages were stained with urine, and feces.  There were no humans in the building.  There were also no lights.

Sgt. Procell returned to the parking lot.  “It’s clear.  Bring her in.”

Mike and Jackson helped carry the girl into one of the treatment rooms, placing her on the long metal table.  The other children followed their classmate inside.  All were crying.  The teacher continued to hold pressure on the flail segment of the child’s chest.  Jen began barking orders to Theresa and Kerry.

“Find some iodine or alcohol.  Someone get an IV catheter 20 or 22 gauge would be ok.  Someone see if they can find anything resembling a chest tube and some suction tubing, some sterile water, gauze, Normal Saline IV fluids, tubing, and foam tape.  When you find it, bring it in here, and toss it on that counter over there.”

The dogs in the back were barking and howling.  “Father, why don’t you and the kids go see if you can do something for those dogs,” SSgt Brown suggested.  The priest took the children into the back.

Jen immediately began to reassess the child.  No real change.  Her breathing seemed a little more labored.  She rifled through the drawers in the treatment room.  She found gauze.  Nothing else she needed.

“Kerry, find me some 2-0 Nylon, a scalpel, some sterile OR towels or drapes, and some petroleum gauze.”  To the soldiers, “I need some more light in here.  Someone empty out that jar of dog treats and rinse it out.  Then fill it half way up with some water.”  Two of Lt. Cruzan’s engineers stepped forward with their flashlights.  Mike emptied out the jar, rinsed it, and added the water.

She tried to remember how her ER doctors had done this.  She cut the girl’s shirt off, and poured the iodine over the girl’s chest.  Kerry returned with the requested supplies.  She opened the OR towels.  Jen washed her hands and put on a pair of sterile gloves.  Ok, here we go.

She placed the towels around the area she intended to work.  “Kerry, open that scalpel and drop it on the blue towels without touching it.”  She picked up the scalpel, and cut into the girl’s side.  The girl moaned and withdrew from the pain.  Good.

“Ok, open the chest tube.”  She took the tube from Kerry without touching anything else.  God, don’t let me screw this up, she thought.  She shoved the tube into the girl’s chest, feeling a pop.  Blood spilled from the end of the tube and covered the floor when she withdrew the trocar.  She ordered Kerry to hold the tube while she hooked up the suction tubing.  She cut the tubing so that it reached below the surface of the water in the jar on the floor.

With every breath the girl took, bubbles rose to the top of the water.  Good, the water seal is doing its job.  She sewed the tube in place and wrapped it with the petroleum gauze where it met the skin, creating an airtight seal.  Then she padded it with a couple of packages of sterile gauze and taped everything down with the foam tape.  Then she secured the other end of the tube so that it would remain below the level of the water in the jar.

Satisfied the emergency procedure was done, she inserted an IV into the girl’s arm.  She instructed Kerry to monitor the child while she searched for some antibiotics.  She found what she was looking for.  She hooked the child up to the antibiotics.

Now she needed to address the flail chest.  She taped a 500 ml bag of IV fluid directly over the flail segment.  This acted as a splint, stabilizing the sharp edges and protecting the lung.  What vital signs she could assess looked good.  Breathing was no longer labored.  The water in the jar had turned red with the girl’s blood, but the chest tube no longer had any blood in it.  Good, hemothorax resolved.

She looked at Lt. Cruzan.  “Ok, I think she’s out of the woods for now.  I don’t know what’s going on inside her skull, but I can’t do anything about that anyway.  We’ll keep an eye on her.  Hopefully she’ll start to wake up, but I just don’t know right now.”

“So when do you think she can move?”

“I don’t know.  It may be a few days before the lungs are good enough to go.  As for her waking up, I don’t know.  I’m hoping she wakes up in the next few hours.”

“So, you’re saying we’re stuck her for a few days?”

“Yes.  That’s exactly what I’m saying.”  Jen could feel the anger welling up inside.