Read Online Grid Down: A Strike against America – An EMP Survival Story- Book One by Roger Hayden - Free Book Online
Authors: Roger Hayden
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like this.”
They reached the second floor as Rob urged her to step aside. He carefully pushed the door open and peeked out—more empty halls. “Coast looks clear. Have your weapons at the ready.”
Nervous, Peter fumbled with his pistol and almost dropped it.
Mila continued in a hushed voice. “What about your shop? Our house?”
“Focus,” Rob said. “Please. We’ll check everything soon enough.”
She led the way, left and down the hall, where a strange odor hit them.
“This is the ICU,” she said. “Pharmacy is at the end.”
Rob glanced at a sign that listed the different departments. An arrow next to Pharmacy pointed in their current direction. That she knew her way around was to be expected after five years of working there. The odor grew more potent the closer they got to the double doors at the end of the lengthy, darkened hall. Something wasn’t right. The stench became more overpowering and gag-inducing as they passed each vacant patient room.
Peter covered his mouth and nose with his shirt. “What is that smell?”
Mila cupped her mouth and stopped dead in her tracks. To her right was an open patient room, and it was clear enough where the noxious odor was coming from. A decomposed body sat upright in bed. Long, stringy gray hair ran from the top of its leathery head, hanging over sunken black holes.
Mila gasped as Rob jolted back. Peter looked in and fell to his knees, dry-heaving. “Oh God!” he kept saying between retches. “Close the door already!”
Rob leaned in to close the door, but Mila stopped him. She walked slowly into the room, holding her mouth. The withered corpse on the bed was still wearing a hospital robe. Mila glanced at a clipboard resting on a wheeled table. Her name was Florence Gardner, and she was seventy-five years old.
Mila walked closer to the bed as dust particles drifted down in the remaining rays of light seeping in through the window. Florence had decomposed beyond recognition, but she was at rest. Mila pulled a pair of latex gloves from a wall dispenser and put them on. She gently pulled the covers over the woman, up to the top of her head.
“Mila, come on!” Rob said in a hushed but forceful tone.
She patted the top of the sheets over Florence’s head. After a moment of silence she turned, removed the gloves and left the room, closing the door behind her.
They continued down the hall, holding their mouths to block the odors. Perhaps there were others, just like Florence, who never had a chance of being moved out of the hospital in time. Rob checked each room on the right as Mila checked the left. He was on alert for trouble, while she checked the beds for patients. Peter kept his focus behind them, looking for anyone who might be following.
They came to a pair of double doors, marked “Pharmacy,” and stopped. Rob placed his hand on the door and hesitated. He peeked through the glass slits on both doors only to see a darkened lobby and a barren counter sitting in the corner of the room. He turned to the others.
“The coast looks clear, but we need to be quick. Mila, get what you need. Peter and I will keep watch.”
Mila nodded. “I’m ready.”
“It would be a miracle if anything was left,” Peter said. “Looters probably raided the place weeks ago.”
“I don’t doubt it, but let’s hold out for the best,” Rob said.
He pushed open the doors, and the scene before them unfolded as something far worse than simple looting. It looked like the aftermath of a violent assault. Walls, riddled with bullets. Chairs blasted into pieces. Empty shelves covered the ground. Dried blood smeared on the floor and walls, but not a body in sight.
“I feel like we’re walking through a crime scene,” Peter said nervously as they advanced to the pharmacy counter.
“Just stay alert,” Rob said. “Whatever happened here is over.”
Mila led the way and couldn’t help being distracted by the remnants of violence in their path. A
They reached the second floor as Rob urged her to step aside. He carefully pushed the door open and peeked out—more empty halls. “Coast looks clear. Have your weapons at the ready.”
Nervous, Peter fumbled with his pistol and almost dropped it.
Mila continued in a hushed voice. “What about your shop? Our house?”
“Focus,” Rob said. “Please. We’ll check everything soon enough.”
She led the way, left and down the hall, where a strange odor hit them.
“This is the ICU,” she said. “Pharmacy is at the end.”
Rob glanced at a sign that listed the different departments. An arrow next to Pharmacy pointed in their current direction. That she knew her way around was to be expected after five years of working there. The odor grew more potent the closer they got to the double doors at the end of the lengthy, darkened hall. Something wasn’t right. The stench became more overpowering and gag-inducing as they passed each vacant patient room.
Peter covered his mouth and nose with his shirt. “What is that smell?”
Mila cupped her mouth and stopped dead in her tracks. To her right was an open patient room, and it was clear enough where the noxious odor was coming from. A decomposed body sat upright in bed. Long, stringy gray hair ran from the top of its leathery head, hanging over sunken black holes.
Mila gasped as Rob jolted back. Peter looked in and fell to his knees, dry-heaving. “Oh God!” he kept saying between retches. “Close the door already!”
Rob leaned in to close the door, but Mila stopped him. She walked slowly into the room, holding her mouth. The withered corpse on the bed was still wearing a hospital robe. Mila glanced at a clipboard resting on a wheeled table. Her name was Florence Gardner, and she was seventy-five years old.
Mila walked closer to the bed as dust particles drifted down in the remaining rays of light seeping in through the window. Florence had decomposed beyond recognition, but she was at rest. Mila pulled a pair of latex gloves from a wall dispenser and put them on. She gently pulled the covers over the woman, up to the top of her head.
“Mila, come on!” Rob said in a hushed but forceful tone.
She patted the top of the sheets over Florence’s head. After a moment of silence she turned, removed the gloves and left the room, closing the door behind her.
They continued down the hall, holding their mouths to block the odors. Perhaps there were others, just like Florence, who never had a chance of being moved out of the hospital in time. Rob checked each room on the right as Mila checked the left. He was on alert for trouble, while she checked the beds for patients. Peter kept his focus behind them, looking for anyone who might be following.
They came to a pair of double doors, marked “Pharmacy,” and stopped. Rob placed his hand on the door and hesitated. He peeked through the glass slits on both doors only to see a darkened lobby and a barren counter sitting in the corner of the room. He turned to the others.
“The coast looks clear, but we need to be quick. Mila, get what you need. Peter and I will keep watch.”
Mila nodded. “I’m ready.”
“It would be a miracle if anything was left,” Peter said. “Looters probably raided the place weeks ago.”
“I don’t doubt it, but let’s hold out for the best,” Rob said.
He pushed open the doors, and the scene before them unfolded as something far worse than simple looting. It looked like the aftermath of a violent assault. Walls, riddled with bullets. Chairs blasted into pieces. Empty shelves covered the ground. Dried blood smeared on the floor and walls, but not a body in sight.
“I feel like we’re walking through a crime scene,” Peter said nervously as they advanced to the pharmacy counter.
“Just stay alert,” Rob said. “Whatever happened here is over.”
Mila led the way and couldn’t help being distracted by the remnants of violence in their path. A
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