The Grace Series (Book 3): Dark Grace (9 page)

We stayed in our hiding spots, if you could call them that, for several minutes before daring to move.  Gus’ grip on my hand had relaxed.  I looked over at him.  His eyes were closed.

“Gus,” I whispered worriedly.  “Gus.”

He didn’t answer, but I could see him breathing.   His face and neck were coated in sweat.  I could feel heat radiating from him and he looked
as red as the crabs that we had boiled had turned.   I noticed movement in my peripheral vision and looked forward to see Boggs crawling along the floor to check on us.  As he reached my side, I heard a lone Roamer passing by the storefront, moaning loudly. 

“He’s burning up,” I whispered to Boggs so quietly I could barely hear myself.

“We need to get him into the vet’s office.  I’m going to grab Nate and see if we can find a way to get in without going outside.  Stay here with him?”

I nodded. 
Boggs crawled back and filled Nathan in on Gus’ worsening state.  The two of them walked to the back of the store, half crouched.  I watched as they ducked behind the sales counter, where I assumed they were talking to the girls.  I cringed every time I heard a straggling Roamer pass.  They were like waves of abrasive fluff in my brain.  My hip was aching from all of the activity.   I unzipped my backpack and sorted through it, producing a bottle of water and one of my spare tank tops.  I wet the cloth and held it to Gus’ forehead.  He stirred slightly, but kept his eyes closed.  I placed the back of my hand against his brow and was shocked by how hot he felt, as if his temperature had spiked in just the past few minutes.  I poured more cool water onto the cloth and set it on his neck in hopes of cooling him.  He kept his eyes closed but started to mutter something. 

“Adelaide, don’t go.  Please don’t go.”

“Shhh,” I soothed.  “Shhh.”

He didn’t say anything more, but left me wondering who Adelaide was.  I looked at his bandages, which had soaked through, leaving areas of pink-tinged fluid that were browning on the edges as they dried.   I was starting to really worry about him, wondering if he’d live through this.  My baby kicked inside of me, as if echoing my own thoughts.  I knew I should save my worries for the life within me and felt guilty as I realized that I could bear the loss of my own child, but not the loss of Gus.  I tried to rationalize my feelings by telling myself that it was only because I didn’t know my own baby yet.  Gus, however, I knew deeply.  Lost in thought, I startled when Boggs crouched down beside me.  I looked at him somewhat blankly.

“Zo, we found a door in the back of the shop.  It’s locked, but Nate’s working on getting it open.  It looks like it probably leads to the vet’s office.  Nate and I want to take you in first, and leave Susan here with the girls and Gus.  We only want to move him once.”

“You mean go in to clear the place, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Ok.”

I could hear Nathan fiddling with something metal and hoped it wouldn’t get any louder, knowing the noise would catch the attention of the dead. 

“The vet’s office didn’t look too big from the outside.  Maybe two or three times the size of this place.  So, hopefully it won’t take long.”

Before standing, I held a hand up, silently asking Boggs for help.  He took my hand more than willingly, and kept hold of it even after I was steady on my feet.

“Let’s go,” I whispered.  I was hesitant to speak at a normal volume.

He squeezed my hand and we walked quickly to the back.  Nathan was just finishing removing the door knob. 

“Ok, Susan, I want you to block the door once we’re through.  You’ll need to push that file cabinet over after we go in just in case the building’s infested.  If it’s heavy have Abbey help.”

“Ok, no problem.  Just be careful.”

“Alright.  Let’s go,” said Boggs.

“Before we head in, keep in mind that gunfire will draw the bastards back here,” said Nate as a warning to me and Boggs.    He opened the door then stepped back quickly, lest anything jump out at us. 

We were met with lighting much less bright than what was filtering into the smoke shop, and the smell of staleness.  All was quiet within, so far as we could tell.  Nathan stepped forward, into the building beyond.  I followed with a hammer in one hand and my pistol in the other.  Boggs brought up the rear.  We progressed slowly, letting our eyes adjust to the dim light.  We were standing in a hallway that was decorated in hues of light yellow.  The floor was shiny tile and pictures of exotic animals were hung on the walls.  A cardboard display for dog food was at the far end, where the back of the building would be.  I counted four doors in all, each labeled “EXAM 1” and so forth.  As we began walking I heard the door behind us shut and the sound of the file cabinet being dragged across the floor.  Nathan signaled to us that he was about to open the door to the first exam room.  We both readied our ‘silent’ weapons and waited.  The door opened inward, revealing a small room
that was bathed in darkness.  Nathan had a flashlight in hand, and shined it about.  There was a metal examination table and a small counter that had a few glass jars full of supplies next to a sink.  It was void of any living dead.  We repeated this with the other three rooms, which were all copies of the first.  Each had a second door against the back wall.  Now at the far end of the hall, we were in the lobby.  The windows on the front wall were covered in soft beige accordion blinds that were thankfully fully closed.  Beneath the window were several cushioned chairs, a coffee table covered in old magazines, and a corner table with a lamp that was shaped like a cat and topped with a soft sage green shade.  The lamp was actually quite tacky compared to the rest of the décor.   Opposite the seats stood a large curved reception desk.  The dark speckled granite counter top held several jars of dog treat samples, advertisements for flea control, and a clipboard with a sign-in sheet.  The last entry had been made the day before the dead had risen. 
4:30pm, Abraham Baker, dog, Alistair, surgery
.  I surmised that the dog was named Alistair.

“I’m going to head behind the desk,” whispered Boggs.  “You and Zoe should clear the bathroom.” 

To the right of the desk was a door labeled
restroom
.  I nodded to Boggs and stood back as Nate opened the door.  I kept my hammer raised, even though I didn’t sense anything lurking.  The inside of the room was simple; a toilet and sink and one small free-standing cabinet that probably housed extra supplies.  Nothing more.

“Let’s go find Boggs,” said Nathan quietly.

We walked behind the desk and proceeded to the back rooms that were meant for employees only.  I followed Nathan, leaving enough room between us to act in the event of an attack.  My mind was clear and my hip was feeling better than it had earlier.  Still, I knew it was imperative to stay alert and extra aware of our surroundings.  In short order, we had caught up with Boggs, who we found in a large supply room.  It was hidden from the view of the lobby by a large built-in filing system that spanned floor to ceiling.  It was lighter in the supply room, which had several windows high on the walls and no shades drawn.  There was a large scale against one wall and against another a large wire shelving system full of supplies. The floor here was also tile, but a darker shade of yellow than in the hallway of exam rooms.  Along the wall to our right were four doors, and by their position I knew that they led to the exam rooms we had already cleared.  Nothing seemed amiss aside from an unpleasant odor.

“Something stinks,” I whispered.

“I smell it too,” echoed Boggs.

Nathan grunted, reminding me of Gus.  “It’s something dead,” he said under his breath.  “I bet it’s in that room there,” he said, pointing to the only other possible room. 
Next to some cabinets was a set of swinging stainless steel doors.

“Let’s get it done,” said Boggs.  “Zo, pull one of the doors open and step back quick, ok?”

I walked toward the double doors without saying anything.  I looked it over, and not seeing a handle to pull on, I looked back to the guys.  I shrugged and shook my head back and forth.  I pointed to the door.  “No handle,” I mouthed. 

Boggs indicated for me to step back, which I did slowly and while keeping my eyes on the doors.  Turning my back to those doors was the last thing I wanted to do.  The smell of rot
was worse near the doors.  I saw Boggs nod to Nathan, who followed him to the entry.  They both raised their silent weapons: a sledge hammer and Nathan’s hatchet.  Boggs counted to three with his fingers and they each used a foot to kick the doors inward.  The stench that emanated was beyond just nauseating.  As badly as I wanted to turn away and either run or vomit, I kept my wits about me and looked for the source of certain danger.  The room was cold in contrast to the rest of the building.  The walls were tile in shades of light blue and cream colors.  Machines were scattered about the periphery, a couple of them lying on their sides as if there had been a struggle.  It was very clinical feeling.  Windows lined the tops of the walls as they did in the storage room.  The floor was pale gray concrete with a drain in the center.  In the middle of the room, over the drain, was a large metal exam table.  Lying on the table was a very large dog that looked part German Shepherd.  It was lying on its side, a tube down its throat and its long tongue hanging out.  Its belly was opened up, the innards spilling onto the floor.  The blood had dried long ago, staining the concrete a deep brown.  Flies were buzzing around the carcass. From across the room I could see maggots crawling through swollen loops of bowel.  The dog’s fur was matted from dried blood.  Its eyes were still taped shut from whatever surgical procedure it had been undergoing. I looked over when I saw movement coming from Boggs.  He was throwing up in a corner.  Nathan motioned for me to leave the room, which I more than gladly did.  He and Boggs followed me and we let the swinging doors shut.

Boggs looked pale.  “Fuck, that was hard to handle,” he mumbled.

“We’re gonna have to get it out of there,” I said.

“I agree,” added Nathan.  “I think we should do it now, before we bring the girls over.  Let’s look around and see about finding a sheet or something to drag it with, then we’ll risk opening the front door.” 

“Probably never gonna get the smell out,” mumbled Boggs, who was still retching involuntarily. 

“Boggs.  You look pretty bad.  Why don’t you go sit in the lobby and I’ll help Nathan with the dog.”

He nodded, stood, and found his way back to the lobby.  Nathan was already looking through drawers and I joined him by looking in the cabinets adjacent to the swinging double doors. 

“Look, Nate,” I said.  I held up a couple of small glass bottles.  “I think these are antibiotics.  They might help Gus.”

“Excellent.  Here, I found some plastic biohazard bags.  You ready?”

“Ya, let’s get it done.  I want to get the others over here.”

“Here, put some gloves on.” 

He handed me a pair of green rubber gloves.  I slid them on my hands.  They were too big, but would serve their purpose.

“I found some bleach too, so we should be able to clean things up a bit.”

“Great,” I answered. 

We walked into the small surgical suite together.  I held my breath as long as I could, and then switched to mouth breathing. 

“How do you want to do this?” I asked.

“I’ll lift the dog one end at a time while you kind of shove the bag around it.  Eventually most of it should end up inside the bag, I hope.  We’ll uh…scoop the rest up.”

“Gross,” I mumbled.

I opened up the large red plastic sack and followed Nate to the surgical table.  I waited to see which end he’d handle first and tried to not think about how horrible the smell was.  Nathan met my eyes with his, and I nodded very slightly to let him know I was ready.  He reached his hands and forearms under the hind quarters of the animal and began to lift.  I was prepared with the bag and was just beginning to hold it up when the hair on the back of my neck and on my arms stood on end.  I dropped the sack and pulled the hammer from where I had tucked it in my waistband.  The dog was growling, low and deep.  I could see its head lifting off of the table.  Nate’s hands had stilled, and he slowly looked at the head of the animal.  The dead, eviscerated beast was looking at us through shriveled eyes still covered in tape, its sharp canine teeth showing from within its long-ago dried up mouth as it snarled.  I brought my hammer up quickly, and brought it down on the side of the dog’s head.  It winced sharply before falling back to the table.

“Shit,” exclaimed Nathan.  “Shit, shit, shit.
  Motherfucker!”

I stared at the dead dog, now even more mutilated than before thanks to my hammer.  Hitting the canine was oddly difficult emotionally and left me feeling a bit empty.  Man’s best friend.  A reminder of the humanity that was now long behind us and well out of our grasp. 

“I’ve always fucking hated dogs,” said Nathan sharply.

“What’s going on?” asked Boggs, who had joined us when he heard the commotion.

I looked over at him, wide-eyed, and blinked a few times.  “The dog.   It wasn’t…dead.”

“What do you mean?”

“I went to lift its ass into the bag and the fucker lifted its damn head and growled,” said Nathan, obviously shaken.  I would never have thought he’d be afraid of anything like dogs.