The Hunger (Book 1): Devoured (3 page)

“They’re looking for programmers, not old hats like me. Same as everyone else.” Lance ran his hands through his hair, grimacing at the lump he found on the crown of his head.

“I told you to go back to school or get a certification or something, but you never did listen to anything I said.”

“Go back to school with what fucking money? We’re broke, remember?”

A doctor jogged past the open door, a stethoscope bouncing against his chest.

“
You’re
broke. I’m doing just fine.” Liz’s tone grew angrier by the second. Lance knew they’d be at DEFCON 1 within a minute or two.

“Using your father’s money to buy food doesn’t constitute doing just fine. Listen, I have a helluva headache right now. Can we save this for later?”

“Everything is always later with you.”

He grunted. “Did the doctor’s tell you about what happened to me? Is anything broke or punctured?”

She lifted her purse from the floor and stood up, putting the strap over her shoulder. “Just some scrapes and bruises. Nothing major considering what happened.”

“Good. The last thing I need is a large medical bill.” Lance’s insurance lapsed several months ago and he wasn’t sure how he would pay for the minor hospital stay he’d already had.

She turned to the door before stopping and looking back at him. “Please take me off any other lists that I might be on. Insurance, loans, whatever.”

“I will.”

“Bye, Lance.”

“Hey, Liz? Thanks for coming. Really. I know you didn’t have to.”

She stood at the doorway, watching him for a moment, her eyes unforgiving. “You’re welcome.”

Two more doctors ran by the door.

Shouts came from down the hall.

Lance sat up again, trying to see around Liz. “What’s going on out there?”

She stuck her head through the open doorway, peering to the left. “I’m not sure. Looks like there’s some kind of fight going on down there.”

Lance eased off the bed, feeling the cool floor on his bare feet. A shiver ran up his body, sending a wave of pain through his sore left side. He gritted his teeth and shuffled across the room, dragging an I.V. stand behind, careful not to touch Liz as he peeked over her shoulder.

A large group of people encircled an area by the nurse’s station, watching as several doctors struggled to get two screaming patients to calm down. Lance recognized one of the patients immediately—the sick woman from the street. Even as he stood more than fifty feet away, he could see that her situation had deteriorated even further.

“Jesus,” Lance said. “That’s the woman I pushed out of the street.”

“The blonde?”

“Yeah. She was more comatose then though. I couldn’t even get her to acknowledge me, let alone struggle like that.”

Three security guards ran past them, shouting for everyone to stay in their rooms. Lance watched as they pushed through the spectators and grabbed hold of the woman, finally pulling her to the ground. Another man, his appearance shockingly similar to the ill woman, also fought against the doctors and guards.

“I don’t like the look of this.” Lance grabbed the I.V. and tore it out of his arm, tossing it back into the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting the hell out of here,” Lance said as he searched around the bed for his clothing, not finding them.

“You aren’t making any sense. Maybe you should lie back down.” Liz stood in the doorway, feet spread, blocking the way out. “Some sleep might clear your head.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t be trying to leave the hospital in your condition.”

“Listen to me, there is something really wrong with that woman. You should see her close up. Veins are visible all over her face and her hair and skin are... thin.”

“She’s obviously a drug addict—they all look like shit.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I think she has some kind of disease or flu or something. I mean, look at the other guy down there. He has it too. If this is infectious, then I sure as hell don’t want to be around here any more than I have to.”

Liz leaned back and looked down the hallway again. “Infectious?”

Lance knew he had her full attention then. Liz was one of those people who hated being sick so much that she would pretend to be fine, even when she had food poisoning. She refused to go anywhere near someone she thought might have a cold. It was one of those personality quirks that Lance found endearing during the early stages of their relationship and annoying later on.

“Well, if two of them have it, then yeah, I’d say it’s contagious.” Lance didn’t know if anything he said was true or not, but he didn’t want to risk it. If there was even the remotest chance he could catch what that woman had, he needed to get the hell out of Dodge. Sadly, it wasn’t just the thought of looking like her that worried him—he knew he couldn’t handle the medical costs that would come with it.

Liz stood at the door, frowning. “I don’t know. I still think you should probably stay here until your doctor clears you.”

Shrieks flooded the hallway.

“Screw that,” Lance said, still looking around the room. “Damn it! Where are my clothes?”

“Oh, I forgot. The nurse said they had to throw them away because they were torn and bloody.”

“Shit.” Lance didn’t want to leave the hospital with his ass hanging out of his gown, but he didn’t see much of a choice. “Where are you parked?”

“Two blocks down. The garage was full.”

Lance grimaced. Not only did he have to walk through the hospital with his backside exposed, he’d have to navigate down two blocks. “The
entire
parking garage is full? That doesn’t sound good.”

“I didn’t really think about it at the time,” Liz said. “You’re right though—that sounds like there are a whole lot of people in here.”

More security guards rushed by the open door, huffing as they hustled their out-of-shape bodies as fast as they could. The ruckus from down the hall grew louder. The guards shouted for everyone to get away—that everything was under control.

“We need to leave. Now.” Lance moved to the door.

“You’re going to walk around in that?” Liz gestured to his gown. “Don’t you at least want your wallet first?”

“They can mail it to me. Look, I hate to ask you to do me any more favors, but I could really use a ride home. I promise not to argue with you at all.”

“Well, I’m supposed to meet Erin at the gym in about thirty—”

“That’s fine. I can walk home from there.” Lance stepped into the hallway before she could make a counter offer. He turned right, heading in the opposite direction of the crowd, glancing over his shoulder.

The two sickly people were gone, along with most of the doctors. A half dozen guards remained, trying to herd people back to their rooms. A janitor worked his way through the group, pushing a bucket and mop toward a red puddle in the floor.

Reaching the end of the hall, Lance and Liz turned right. Two more guards argued with a man at the opposite end of the corridor, their angry words incomprehensible from so far away. They stood in front of the elevators, hands on hips, blocking the way out. Out of order signs leaned against the reflective doors.

“Damn,” Lance said. “Do you know where the stairs are?”

Liz stopped and nodded her head in the other direction. “That way. It’s kind of weird that
all
the elevators are out of order, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

A glowing exit sign protruded above the door at the other end of the hall. Lance picked up his pace, feeling as if he needed to get out of there as fast as he could.

Something was going on and he didn’t want to wait around to find out what.

They made it down two flights of stairs when they ran into Don, his perfectly tailored suit disheveled and dirty.

“Don? Thought you were leaving?” Lance noticed that Don’s face had flushed.

“I’ve been trying, but they have the place on lockdown. Every exit is blocked off.” He gave Liz an uneasy look before turning his attention to Lance. “I’ve been running around, trying to sneak out, but they’ve got all of their bases covered.”

“Who has the place locked down?” Liz asked. “Why?”

“The police are all over the place out there. Dozens of ‘em. And no one will tell me why—they just keep saying that I need to stay inside for my own safety. I got pissed off and tried to push my way through but they swarmed on me and threw me into the lobby.”

Lance swallowed a swell of panic forming in his throat. “They aren’t letting anyone leave at all?”

“No. They aren’t even letting anyone else come in unless they’re seriously injured.”

Liz shared a brief look with Lance.

“What?” Don asked.

“Remember how the woman in the street looked? The sick one that I pushed out of the way?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s not the only one in here that looks like that. We just saw another guy that has the same thing.”

––––––––

“S
ir, I need you to stay back.” The police officer held a hand up. “I understand that you want to leave, but you have to stay here for just a little while longer.”

Lance took another step forward, drawing an uneasy glare from the short, stocky officer. “
Why
do we need to stay here?”

“I’m not going to ask you to stay back again, sir.” He kept his hand up in a warding off gesture, his other wrapped around the end of what appeared to be a Taser.

“What are you going to do? Zap all of us with that thing?”

“Believe me, I don’t want to.” The cop leaned closer to Lance so no one around them could hear. “None of us know why we aren’t allowed to let anyone leave. The order came down about thirty minutes ago and we haven’t heard anything since.”

“So we’re being held hostage, but no one can tell us why?” Lance shook his head. “That makes zero sense.”

“I understand, honestly. I want to keep you here even less than you want to be here. This sucks for everybody, but I really need you to relax and go back to your room. Maybe get something to eat in the cafeteria—I don’t care.” The dark-haired officer stepped back into the line of cops that stood in front of the main entrance of the hospital.

Lance turned to Liz and Don, shrugging his shoulders. “Guess we’re stuck here.”

“Now what?” Liz asked.

The lobby area of the hospital overflowed with angry people, most cursing at the officers and making threatening calls to the police station. Many paced around, hands clenching as they tried to think of a way to get out. Others used sob stories to try to sway the officers into letting them leave.

None of it worked.

Two lanky men made a break for it, charging the line of uniformed men, shouting about their constitutional rights. The officers made short work of them. They pinned the men to the ground, cuffing and immobilizing them. Sliding them away from the doors, the officers sat the men against a glass wall, silently refuting the men’s angry shouts.

Twin children, red-haired and fair-skinned, cried beside their parents, clutching at each other.

“I want to know what’s going on here. If this has to do with the woman upstairs, then we need to find out why they’re keeping us inside.”

Don stuffed his hands in his pockets. “This is such bullshit. As if I have the time to sit around here and do nothing.”

“I’m sorry about this, Don. You came here because my dumbass jumped out in traffic. It’s my fault you’re dealing with this.”

“Nah, this isn’t your fault, buddy. Some asshole in city hall is making the biggest mistake of his life.”

Liz watched the people meandering around the lobby, arguing with the cops. “We should get out of here before things get out of hand.” She turned back to Lance. “I think the officer is right—let’s get some food from the cafeteria. When these people get hungry, the hospital is probably going to have trouble feeding all of them. We’d better get something now.”

“Yeah, OK.” Lance tried not to dwell on the chill in his feet coming from the cold floor, or the draft in his gown. He’d tied the back shut, but the fabric was thin. “Maybe we can find me some clothes too. My ass would really appreciate it.”

The cafeteria was surprisingly quiet. Only a handful of workers stood behind the counters, chattering about the events surrounding them. A few families were scattered around, sitting at tables, eyes glued to the televisions mounted along the walls.

CNN played on all of the TVs, but the volume was too low to hear.

Lance stepped up to the counter and waved at a short, curly-haired woman. She wore a hairnet and apron, looking none too pleased about her current situation.

“Miss? Do you have any idea what’s going on? We just tried to leave, but they have the doors blocked with cops.”

“No idea. My shift ended twenty minutes ago and they wouldn’t let me leave either. It’s total crap. My manager says I should just shut up and claim overtime, so here I am.” She gestured to the assortment of sandwiches, vegetables, soups, and bottled drinks. “You want anything?”

They ordered some food that Don had to pay for because Lance didn’t have a wallet. The idea of Liz paying for anything made Lance want to laugh. Sitting at a table by the left wall of the cafeteria, they stared up at the newscast, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement of their predicament.

“They have to talk about what’s going on here, right?” Liz asked after several minutes of uncomfortable silence.

Lance realized as they sat there, that he hadn’t spent this much argument-free time with his wife in the past two years combined. Just the sight of him usually set Liz off. Having a common problem, other than each other, gave them something else to focus on.

Don must have felt the tension between them, though it was less than usual, as he ate his sandwich and stared at his tray of food.

“I don’t see how they could ignore this, that’s for certain.” Lance read the summary of news scrolling on the screen underneath the talking head, chewing on his lip as he waited for something relevant to appear.

Lance was about to give up when he saw a headline about a hospital being quarantined. He looked over at the woman behind the counter. “Can we get some sound in here? I want to hear what’s going on.”