"Here," she said, holding it out to Shanna. "It's a girl."
Not knowing what else to do, Shanna took her. One look at her face told her it was a newborn.
"What--?"
Dr. Driscoll sniffed. "I don't do babies."
Shanna had done a ton of babysitting as a teen. She knew that cry.
"She's starving."
"We have nothing to feed it."
"But--"
"She must be quarantined with the rest of you. Deal with it."
She shut the door.
Shanna turned to the kids and, over the baby's screams, pieced together a disjointed story about a guy with a chainsaw--had to be Jenny's Randall--and a "guy with a big cool gun"--no question who that was--who had saved them and put them on the helicopter.
"Only four of you?"
They nodded and began to cry. Not a good question.
The door opened again, revealing neither the soldiers nor Dr. Driscoll. Instead, a good-looking guy in green scrubs and longish brown hair stood there, smiling.
"Hello, Shanna. I'm Doctor Cook, a pediatrician. I've come to check over the baby."
He reached for her and Shanna gladly relinquished the screaming child.
As soon as Dr. Cook cradled her in his arms, she stopped crying. Shanna looked to see if anything was wrong but she had her eyes open and was staring at the doctor.
"That's amazing."
He smiled again. "I have a way with children."
Something familiar about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
He glanced up and down the hall, then looked her directly in the eyes. "You don't belong here. I'm stepping outside. You can come with me if you wish."
"But the kids--"
"Will be fine. This is a one-time offer."
Shanna didn't know about this. "I can just walk out?"
"The military personnel are distracted at the moment. That is only temporary, I assure you. Come."
He turned and walked toward the rear of the trailer. Shanna followed, saying, "But I came in--"
"Two entrances."
He led her to a door that opened on the side opposite the hospital. Three steps down and fifty feet across the pavement put them on the edge of the trees bordering the parking lot. He turned and stared toward the hospital. She followed his gaze and saw the soldiers withdrawing deeper into the lot, away from the building.
"Are they leaving?"
"Hardly."
He pointed up to a helicopter, much larger than the TV station's, hovering over the hospital roof. Its flashing lights revealed a long, bulky cylinder hanging vertically from a cable as it was lowered to the roof.
"Is that something to haul away survivors?"
"Hardly." His tone was grim as he repeated the word.
She glanced at him--so was his expression. She again had that sense of deja vu--that somehow she'd seen him before, that they'd met before.
"What is it, then?"
"They call it an 'autoclave.'"
She'd heard Dr. Driscoll mention that, but still had no idea what it was.
"That's no help."
"In medical facilities, it's a device used to steam sterilize medical instruments."
She shook her head. "I'm not following."
"No reason you should. I didn't understand either, so I eavesdropped. It's a giant shaped charge. When detonated it will shoot a plasma jet down through the hospital roof with irresistible force at a speed of eight-thousand feet per second. The jet will penetrate each of the floors like an anti-tank missile melting through steel armor plate. The air in the hospital will heat to ten thousand degrees, sterilizing the entire structure."
Shanna heard the words as she watched the helicopter ascend from the roof and fly off without its cargo, but they weren't making sense.
...plasma jet...ten-thousand degrees... sterilize the entire structure...
And then--
"Oh, my God! They can't! Clay's in there!"
Jenny
BY the time she realized that the object they had dropped on the roof was a bomb--a huge, army-green charge--Jenny had just enough time for a belly laugh. Randall would have appreciated the irony of surviving a dracula outbreak only to be killed by the good guys.
Clay
He snatched up the Taurus and began wiping her off. Poor girl was a mess--blood, plaster dust, and who knew what else.
He hugged her to his chest. "Hey, baby. Gonna take you home and get you cleaned up and oiled and good as--"
He heard a boom from above and then a blast of heat like a solar flare fused Alice to his chest and his last thought was how they'd be together forever.
Shanna
Shanna began to run toward the parking lot. She had to find Dr. Driscoll, had to convince her not to--
The roof of the hospital exploded in an incandescent flare. The boom and shockwave stopped her in her tracks and she watched in horror as the windows and walls of the fourth floor belched flame and debris, followed almost immediately by the third and second and first. Every entrance, every exit blew its doors and shot flames like giant blowtorches.
And then the floors began to collapse--first the roof onto the fourth, then the fourth onto the third, pancaking all the way down to ground level, leaving only a flame-riddled cloud of smoke and dust and debris on the far side of the parking lot.
A cheer went up from the watching soldiers and she wanted to kill them. Instead, she began to cry. Huge, wracking sobs shook her to her toes.
Clay... she felt the ring box in her pocket pressing against her thigh. A good man, a hero, and no one would know. Not that Clay would care. No, wait. Those kids would know. They'd remember the guy with the big cool gun. Clay would love to be remembered that way, but--
She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun--Dr. Cook.
"You'd better go," he said.
She wiped her tears. "Where? How?"
"Walk into the woods and keep going. Don't look back, and don't go home."
"Why not?"
"They'll be looking for you."
"Who are 'they?'"
He frowned as he stared at the trailer. "I don't know. And I don't know how they learned about--" He cut himself off with a quick shake of his head and looked at her. "Whoever they are, they don't want you running around. You weren't locked in that room because they thought you might be infected. You've seen too much. They want to contain you."
"But where can I go?"
"Anywhere but here. Please. Get away now."
"Why are you doing this? Why do you care?"
He hesitated. "You seem like a good person. And... I'd like to know you better. But that can't happen if you're locked away. Now go--please."
She turned and hurried into the woods with no idea where she was going. But as the trees swallowed her, a slow-burning anger replaced her grief. They killed Clay Theel, a good man who'd asked to marry her. Squashed him like a bug. Where did they get off thinking they could get away with that?
She thought of Clay's father. After they'd worn each other out in bed, she used to listen to Clay talk about his "daddy" and what a nut he was. But a survivalist type might be just what she needed right now. He deserved to know that his son was dead, and how he died. And he'd be the type to believe why he died.
Where had he said Daddy lived?
Up near Silverton?
That was where she'd head.
The Man in the Scrubs
"You are hungry, aren't you," he cooed to the infant in his arms. "Well, we'll fix that."
His canine teeth extended. They were so much better than the previous, unwieldy set he'd shed in the laundry room less than half an hour ago. This new form was superior. His thoughts were clear, focused. And he looked human. Better than human. Better than his best days on Wall Street. He would blend in much better than those monsters.