The Endless Struggle, page 11
part #3 of Random Survival Series
“None of your damn business.”
Mark studied the man, then in a loud voice shouted, “If anyone tries to hurt one of us, I’ll kill him. So if anyone else is hiding here, it’s better to just come out now.”
“Why? You’re gonna kill me anyway.”
“If we wanted you dead, you would be already. We’re not killers.”
“So you say.”
“Are you the doctor?”
The old man rubbed his bruised wrist. “What if I am?” he said defiantly. “I’m not about to help people who break into my house.”
“That’s okay, we have our own doctor. We were only looking for medical supplies. We will not touch your food supplies.”
The man looked at Mark with wary eyes. He was tall and skinny. White stubble, several days old, covered his face; otherwise, he appeared clean.
Mark lowered the rifle.
“Well, go ahead. Get on with it.”
“Doc?” Mark shouted.
“Yes?”
“Come on in, please.”
Doc stepped into the kitchen, her gun hanging down at her side.
“This is our doctor.”
“From doctor to thief. You should be very proud.”
Doc’s mouth opened slightly, her eyes widened in surprise. “Is there anything in the clinic you no longer need or can do without?”
“Kiss my wrinkly ass.”
Mark’s lips went tight across his face, then they curled into a smile and he laughed. That seemed to take the man by surprise.
Mark motioned for Mel to lower her gun. She did and backed away from the man.
“Okay, sir, we’re sorry we broke in. We’ll leave.”
The wariness in the elderly doctor’s eyes increased. His face scrunched up.
“Are you in need of anything? Water? Food?”
“What’s your game? Is this some sort of torture? You make me relax, lower my guard and then you strike?”
Doc spoke up. “No, we’re not criminals. If we had known someone lived here, we would never have broken in. We come from a small, but growing community. I use a barn as an operating room. We were going around searching Urgent Cares and clinics for equipment. If you are still seeing patients or have a need for the equipment for yourself, we’ll go. But, if you have no need for any of it, we could use it.”
The man said nothing. His eyes narrowed as if looking for the trap in Doc’s words.
“You are also welcome to join us if you want,” Mark added. “Our community is about thirty strong on site, with another thirty in the area at their homes.”
Still the man made no reply. He continued to rub his wrist.
“Okay, we’re going.” Mark moved toward the door. “Sorry for the intrusion.”
Mel stepped out.
Doc found a notepad and paper in a tray on the counter. She wrote something and left it there. “If you ever need anything you can find us at that intersection.” She gave a quick smile and went outside.
“What about my gun?”
Mark turned and gazed at the man. “I’ll leave it out front before we leave.”
The three of them walked around the house and toward the truck. Mel and Doc climbed in while Mark kept watch. He slid in and started the truck, then got out and placed the old doctor’s gun on the driveway. The old man did not come out.
The front door opened. The old man stood there watching them. With a last glance to make sure the man wasn’t about to dart out the door with another gun, Mark climbed into the driver’s seat and backed down the driveway.
“Stop!” Doc said.
Mark hit the brakes.
“He’s signaling for us to stop,” Mel said.
Mark looked. The man was standing on the porch, waving his hands over his head.
Mark glanced at the gun on the driveway and back to the porch, estimating whether the man could get to the gun quick enough to become a threat again.
He reached behind him and slipped his handgun from the belt holster. Giving the gun to Mel, he said, “Keep an eye on him.” Then he put the truck in park and stepped out.
“You need something?”
The doctor walked down the front steps. “You’re really leaving?”
“Yeah. I told you, we’re not thieves.”
“And there’s really like, uh, a small settlement of people?”
Mark stepped in front of the truck. “Yes. We call it our family. We’re all strangers who came together for support and protection. We help each other.”
“What would I have to do, I mean, if I wanted to join you?”
Mark smiled and walked closer. “You don’t have to do anything. We can take you or you can follow us. You can come anytime you want, either to stay or to visit.”
“This isn’t some crazy cult, is it?”
Mark laughed. “No, nothing like that. It is sometimes crazy, but it’s just a group of people trying to survive.”
“And I can come and go as I please?”
“Yep.”
They stood in silence while the doctor thought it over.
“I can’t deny it’d be nice to have someone to talk to. Let me get a few things. I’ll follow you in the beast there.”
Mark got back in the truck and waited.
“Should we ask him about the medical equipment?” said Doc.
“Not right now. Let him get comfortable with us first.”
“I hate leaving what could be a gold mine here. What if someone breaks in while we’re away?”
Mark gave her words some thought. “I still think we wait. We want him on our side. Besides, he’s a doctor. We can always use another. It’s always nice to have that expertise available. Especially with all the trouble we seem to get into.”
They watched as the old man approached the driveway. He stopped next to the truck and bent to pick up his gun. Mark’s mind screamed in warning. Shit! They were sitting ducks. Why hadn’t he removed the bullets?
Frantic, he reached behind him for his gun and froze as the gun poked through the open window. The Doc let out a gasp and Mel fumbled for the door handle.
“By the way,” the doctor said, “I’m Dr. Warren Smahls, and you owe me a new window.” He winked, turned and walked to his car.
A collective gasp blew toward the windshield.
Jesus Christ,” Mel said. “I think I peed.”
“Me too,” Mark said, “but from the other end.”
Twenty-Eight
They stopped at one more clinic. This one a dialysis center located in an old strip mall. The center had a remodeled front. Three of the other four businesses were vacant long before the event. The fourth had been a carryout and had been thoroughly cleaned out.
The dialysis center looked intact.
“This looks promising,” said Doc.
“I’ll go talk to Dr. Smahls and let him know what we’re doing.”
They got out of the truck. Mark walked to where Smahls had stopped while Mel and Doc went toward the building. He called after them. “Don’t go in the building till I get there.”
The doctor had the window down and an elbow on the frame. “Doing more scavenging?”
“Yeah. With so many people to care for, Doc needs more supplies and she doesn’t have the equipment she needs for emergencies and surgery.”
“Do you have electricity?”
“Yeah. We put in windmills and laid solar panels on the roof.”
“I’ve got a huge gas-powered generator. Living in the country, you have to make sure you always have a source of power. ‘Course, I haven’t used it much since the world dropped dead.”
“We shouldn’t be long. You can stay here if you want.”
“I think I’ll come in and take a look around. Maybe your doctor there could benefit from an old man’s wisdom.”
“I don’t doubt that a bit, sir.”
The two men joined the women on the raised walkway in front of the businesses.
“Mark,” Doc said, excitement trembling her voice. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been inside.”
He nodded but was more cautious with his opinion. “Same drill as before. I’ll go first. Wait for me to call you in. Mel—”
“I know. I’ve got the rear.”
Mark tried the door, locked. He didn’t want to break the glass door, the noise would alert anyone who might be inside, but he didn’t see any other choice. If we keep doing this, I’ll need to find a glass cutter. He stepped back and smashed the butt of the rifle into the glass. It dented, but did not break.
Several attempts later the shatterproof glass separated from its frame but did not break. Using the screwdriver, Mark pried the glass back enough to slip his hand inside. He fumbled for the latch getting a small cut for his efforts.
Unlocked, the door swung inward. Mark crouched and peered in. The room was dark. No sunlight penetrated the heavy curtains. He stepped into the short but wide waiting room. A sliding glass panel showed where the receptionist sat. A door stood next to that. No one had disturbed the space.
Mark walked to the inner door. It opened inward and was also locked. This time he was able to force the screwdriver between the door and the jam and pry it back enough to pop it open.
The large dialysis room held about twenty machines, lined up along the outer walls surrounding a central nurses’ station. The room was dim, but a small barred window in the back wall allowed some light to penetrate.
Again, the room looked undisturbed.
Mark called out, “Okay. Come in.”
Doc said, “Aw!” as if she had just laid eyes on a massive buried treasure. She walked in and explored the dialysis machines. Mark advanced toward the central nurses’ station; two twelve-foot-long sections of countertop sandwiched around a walk-and-work space. The inner section appeared rifled. A few seconds later, Mel said, “Ah, guys, I think you should see this.”
The group moved forward. Mel’s discovery was a stainless steel table set up behind the nurse’s workstation. A bloody sheet lay across it. Blood-soaked towels and bandages lay strewn on the floor. A rolling cart full of medical equipment and supplies stood next to that.
“Looks like somebody performed some surgery here,” Smahls said.
Mark squatted and picked up a towel. A red wet spot stained the floor beneath. “And it wasn’t too long ago.”
He stood and hastened toward the door. “Doc, gather what you need and let’s get out of here.”
Mark stopped at the front curtains and parted them where they met. The parking lot was as they left it. His senses on alert he thought the truck and car were too far away. He needed to move them up close.
He went back to the inner door. “Doctor Smahls, can you come here, please?”
The elder physician came into the waiting room. “What’s up?”
“I think it would be best if we moved the vehicles up close to the front door.
“Okay. I guess that’ll save us some steps.”
Mark opened the front door just as two pickup trucks drove into the lot, parking on either side of his. “We’re too late,” he said, more to himself.
The doctor gazed out. “You think they’re going to be a problem?”
Six men climbed from the two trucks, each dressed in hunter’s cammies and carrying a rifle.
“I think we should err on the side of caution. You might want to step back.”
The men formed a wide line like flushing prey from the brush. Mark stepped just outside the door. “That’s far enough, gentlemen.”
The line halted and readied weapons.
One large man, with a bright orange ball cap, took an extra step. “You’re on our territory, in our hospital.”
“Sorry, we didn’t know. If you’ll get back in your trucks and drive away, we’ll leave.” He doubted they would, but he had to try.
The men each glanced up and down their line. The shortest man, standing on the end of the line to the left said, “No, you’re trespassing. You gotta pay a fine.”
As Mark feared, these men were not the type to walk away. There would be shooting before there would be any courtesy. “And what would that be?”
The orange capped man said, “Your trucks, your guns, your possessions.”
A tall, bald-headed man with tats covering his skull, said, “And any women you’ve got in there.” The other men laughed. The short man said, “Oh, yeah.”
Mark’s mind raced for a solution. A little voice kept yelling at him to shoot now and reduce the odds. He might be able to take two of them down if he shot first. But, even knowing this confrontation could only end in a gunfight, he still couldn’t bring himself to ambush the men. As long as they were still talking there was always hope.
“I don’t think so. The price is too high.”
“Better than paying with your life,” the orange-capped man, who Mark thought might be their leader, said.
“We’d be dead anyway.”
“Well, I guess we’re at a standoff then,” the leader said.
Ever so slowly, the group changed from a negotiation stance to a combative one. Mark saw it unfold before him. As the inevitable became reality, the little voice inside screamed and won out against hope. He pulled the trigger in rapid succession, blowing the orange-capped man off his feet.
He swept the barrel to the left and continued firing as he backed inside. He thought he hit the next man but he didn’t go down. The men scattered for cover, the only return shots came from reaction rather than aim, the bullets flying high and wide.
Mark closed and locked the door. Even with the glass pulled back the invaders would have to work to get their bodies through the mesh window. Bullets punched through the large front windows catching in the curtain and billowing it backward. He stood against the short wall between the door and the windows and let the initial barrage wind down. Realizing they’d had no effect, the shooters would stop and form a plan. Most likely it would consist of one group rushing the building while the remaining men covered them.
Mel duck-walked forward and stopped at the far end of the window. “What we got?”
“I put one down and might’ve wounded another. So, four or five shooters left, using high-powered rifles.”
“Great!”
“Aren’t you glad you came now?”
“Guess it wasn’t one of my better decisions.”
Doc and Smahls stood in the inner doorway. Mark said, “Get back inside. Find some cover.” They disappeared.
The shooting ceased suddenly.
“They’ll be coming now,” he said. “You need to find a hole to shoot through.” He flung the screwdriver toward her. “See if you can poke a hole through with that.” Mark risked a glance. “You’d better hurry. I think they’re preparing to rush us.”
Mel drove the blade into the glass repeatedly.
Mark knelt by the door and slid the barrel of his rifle through the opening he had created. No sooner had he done that than the shooting started again. As predicted, two men broke for the large brick pillars that supported the overhanging roof and lined the walkway.
Mark sighted, fired and dropped one, but he had no clear shot at the second. The man pressed against the brick support to the left of the door. The shooters directed their fire at him as the lone defender. He was forced to duck to the side.
“Mel, hurry.”
“I’m trying, but this shit’s tough.
The three shooters had spread out even more when Mark looked again. One hid behind the truck to Mark’s left, another behind the truck on the right, while the third had moved to the far side of the Marquis. That man worked his way to a place where the pillar to the right blocked Mark’s view of him. That meant, within seconds he would have two men not twenty feet to the left and right of the door.
To make matters worse, a third pickup truck drove into the lot and stopped at the end of the carryout to the far right. Both doors opened, but he couldn’t see how many men stepped out. He wouldn’t be in a position to stop them from creeping up along the building front to get within a few feet of the door.
The shooting became sporadic now. Mark envisioned the men signaling their plans to each other while one shooter kept those inside occupied. His mind raced through blurred thoughts. He settled on one and ran to the inner door.
“Hey, if they get past me, put your guns down and tell them you’re doctors. You have value, they won’t hurt you.”
“Screw that,” Smahls said. “Those bastards come in here, I’m drilling them.”
“Then get away from Doc so they don’t shoot her by mistake.”
He ran back to his shooting spot and looked out. A shuffling sound came from his right. The men were moving and getting closer. The assault wouldn’t be long now. One way or another, the end was coming fast.
Twenty-Nine
Movement to the right made Mark jerk the barrel in that direction and pull the trigger as a reflex. The man ducked away. Mark kept the rifle facing that way, but his eyes scanned the parking lot. For the moment, no one moved or fired. Perhaps the men by the trucks were afraid of hitting those sliding along the wall.
With his shoulder, he wiped away a trickle of sweat that had dropped into his eye, burning and blurring it. He slowed his breathing with great effort and attempted to control the adrenaline rush. The gunshot made him jump.
A body tumbled to the ground on the walkway to the left. His first reaction was of confusion, then he realized Mel had found a shooting slot. He glanced at her.
“He was trying to catch you by surprise. Sorry it took so long.”
“Do you have an angle at the men to my right?”
She pressed her forehead against the glass. “I can see the first man, but I don’t think I can get the barrel turned far enough to hit him. I’ll have to widen the hole.”
Can you tell how many are there?”
She looked again. “No, not really. There’s at least two.”
“Okay, do what you can but if you watch the front, I’ll hold these guys off.”
He slid out his handgun. It would be better suited for an up-close fight. He gave the situation some thought. As long as everything remained motionless he had an idea.
Leaving the rifle barrel protruding through the glass just enough to be seen, he stood next to the door. It swung inward. If he pulled it open, he could stick the handgun out and fire somewhat blind along the wall. He may not hit anyone, but the shots might force them back. Because of the angle and the side they were on, Mark would have to shoot with his left hand or else risk exposing too much of himself to the shooters out front.
