Read Online The Last Town (Book 2): Preparing For The Dead by Stephen Knight - Free Book Online
Authors: Stephen Knight
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uneventful. Reese had been able to take enough time to suck down some of the coffee donated by the Starbucks across the way in Beverly Center and some sandwiches and pizza someone had brought over from the California Pizza Kitchen. Whereas Bates roamed the hospital with a team of Guardsmen—he was a patrolman, after all—Reese stayed put near the emergency room entrance with Narvaez and his senior officers, who had commandeered a portion of the sidewalk and roadway beyond to serve as an impromptu command post. Narvaez coordinated his troop movements from a Humvee studded with antennas that had been parked at the curb. Even though he was supposed to represent the LAPD at the hospital, there wasn’t a lot for Reese to do. Anything that required the attention of uniformed police was handled by Bates, who seemed to have an uncanny ability to determine exactly when to appear whenever he was needed.
That wasn’t to say Reese didn’t have any interactions with people outside of the National Guard. Sirens wailed all across the city, and every few minutes, an ambulance of the paramedic unit would roll in with new patients. Not all of the patients were victims of zombie attacks. Several had actually fallen prey to vanilla criminal activity, such as assaults and home invasions, the numbers of which had increased substantially as Los Angeles grappled with the threat growing within the city. As the zombie infestations grew, law enforcement resources were being put to the test. Reese already knew the 911 call centers were overloaded, meaning that hundreds if not thousands of people in need were being left to their own devices. Once a patient had been identified as a crime victim, Reese interviewed them and took their information, writing it all down on a notepad he carried. By the time the sun had set, the notepad was already half used, and he wished the department had issued a tablet of some sort for this kind of mission. His right hand was already suffering from a severe case of writer’s cramp.
Reese was helping himself to another cup of tepid coffee when one of the senior nurses approached him. She was a short, sturdy black woman with salt and pepper hair and big eyes that were magnified by Coke-bottle glasses. Reese watched her approach, noting the jitteriness in her gait.
“Excuse me, are you with the LAPD?” she asked. She wore a long-sleeved shirt under her green medical scrubs, and she hugged herself as she looked up at him, as if trying to ward off a chill.
Reese wondered why she would ask the question while he was standing around wearing a ballistic vest clearly marked as POLICE. Just the same, he fingered the badge hanging from his neck by a lanyard.
“What can I do for you?”
“We have several cases that are terminal,” the woman said. “In fact, we have one that might have died by the time it took me to leave the ward and come to you.”
“Ah.” Reese adjusted his vest and looked around. “Okay. People who had been bitten?”
“Yes. And some who weren’t. Traffic accident for one, a shooting for another.”
“Okay. And you have them isolated, right?”
“They’re in isolation, yes, but it’s not like a prison,” the nurse said. “If they really wanted to, they could get out. If they, you know … wake up.”
Reese didn’t like that. “Listen, you guys need to harden that part of the hospital. You have armed security inside?” he asked, while reaching for his radio.
“We have security, but right now, there’s only one man in that area …”
“Narvaez!” Reese shouted. He pulled his ROVER close to his face. “Detective Four King to One Frank Three. Over.”
Captain Narvaez hurried up, following by two Guardsmen. “What’s up, Detective?”
Bates’s voice came over the radio. “Detective Four King, this in One Frank Three. Over.”
“One Frank Three, I need you back at the command post. Over.”
“Detective Four King, we’re on the way.”
“Sir, you have something for
That wasn’t to say Reese didn’t have any interactions with people outside of the National Guard. Sirens wailed all across the city, and every few minutes, an ambulance of the paramedic unit would roll in with new patients. Not all of the patients were victims of zombie attacks. Several had actually fallen prey to vanilla criminal activity, such as assaults and home invasions, the numbers of which had increased substantially as Los Angeles grappled with the threat growing within the city. As the zombie infestations grew, law enforcement resources were being put to the test. Reese already knew the 911 call centers were overloaded, meaning that hundreds if not thousands of people in need were being left to their own devices. Once a patient had been identified as a crime victim, Reese interviewed them and took their information, writing it all down on a notepad he carried. By the time the sun had set, the notepad was already half used, and he wished the department had issued a tablet of some sort for this kind of mission. His right hand was already suffering from a severe case of writer’s cramp.
Reese was helping himself to another cup of tepid coffee when one of the senior nurses approached him. She was a short, sturdy black woman with salt and pepper hair and big eyes that were magnified by Coke-bottle glasses. Reese watched her approach, noting the jitteriness in her gait.
“Excuse me, are you with the LAPD?” she asked. She wore a long-sleeved shirt under her green medical scrubs, and she hugged herself as she looked up at him, as if trying to ward off a chill.
Reese wondered why she would ask the question while he was standing around wearing a ballistic vest clearly marked as POLICE. Just the same, he fingered the badge hanging from his neck by a lanyard.
“What can I do for you?”
“We have several cases that are terminal,” the woman said. “In fact, we have one that might have died by the time it took me to leave the ward and come to you.”
“Ah.” Reese adjusted his vest and looked around. “Okay. People who had been bitten?”
“Yes. And some who weren’t. Traffic accident for one, a shooting for another.”
“Okay. And you have them isolated, right?”
“They’re in isolation, yes, but it’s not like a prison,” the nurse said. “If they really wanted to, they could get out. If they, you know … wake up.”
Reese didn’t like that. “Listen, you guys need to harden that part of the hospital. You have armed security inside?” he asked, while reaching for his radio.
“We have security, but right now, there’s only one man in that area …”
“Narvaez!” Reese shouted. He pulled his ROVER close to his face. “Detective Four King to One Frank Three. Over.”
Captain Narvaez hurried up, following by two Guardsmen. “What’s up, Detective?”
Bates’s voice came over the radio. “Detective Four King, this in One Frank Three. Over.”
“One Frank Three, I need you back at the command post. Over.”
“Detective Four King, we’re on the way.”
“Sir, you have something for
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