chance being caught there. The place was full of those who had sought treatment for the flu, but it was a small hospital and the waiting and treatment rooms, beds and morgue were full of the dead.
I ended up parking it in the bushes of one of the houses beside the highway, and glared at the sundial/thermometer in Mr. Linksys’s front yard that said it was a blistering ninety-five degrees today. I passed through the yard, with kid’s toys scattered through them and hated knowing that these houses still had those poor, innocent souls inside of them. Ones we would have to burn eventually. You would think that more people would have gotten out of town, but it was as if they’d gone into shock and just tried to ride it out at home.
Newport hadn’t boasted of many residents. Sad part was, it was one of the largest cities in Pend Oreille County. It hadn’t even been considered a city until the late seventies.
I reached down and picked up a discarded Newport Minor paper, and then let it drop to the ground. I scanned the dark corners of the buildings down South Washington Ave, and listened. Even though it was a small city, it had once been alive.
Now, it was a ghost town. I brought up my crossbow and slipped an arrow from my pouch into my hand. The silence of the town was unnerving and set me on alert every time I came to it. It was silent today, and deafening. Bodies had been littered all over the streets for the first few months after the flu had had ravaged the town.
Dad had said in the panic, the overwhelming numbers of people who’d come out from the smaller towns for help, Newport had been the rally point for those in need. It ended up being a mass grave site when the CDC had announced that there was no vaccination for what was killing millions of people.
I wasn’t even sure we still had a CDC anymore. If we did, they’d gone to ground. I peeked around the corner and eyed the hospital, which looked exactly the same as it had before. The cars were in the same places, as well as the few items I’d placed to be able to tell if it had been disturbed. When I was sure it was safe, I started forward.
At the doors, I paused and listened again. Silence. I hated silence. Once, I used to want it. I had a younger brother who was both annoying and loud, and I could remember thinking how blissful it would be if I could only have silence. Well folks, it isn’t golden…it sucks.
I stepped through the broken glass doors, and tried to avoid the crunching of glass my boots made as I stepped on the unavoidable remains of the windows. It was darker inside, but luckily it was early enough that the sun was working with me. I passed the emergency room, and made my way toward the pharmacy.
I stepped over the dead body that was leaned against the doorframe and pulled out the key I had from my clinical here. I’d been so close to getting my degree, and Mr. Kenan had agreed to hire me. He had even given me keys to the locked areas the day before the world had gone to hell. He was here, in his chair, with his body decomposing. He’d worked until he hadn’t been able to from the looks of it. I slid the key in, and turned it until the door to the drug room slid open.
I added a few bottles of this and that which would be needed. I grabbed Phenergan for nausea, along with pain killers just in case we ever had need for them. I grabbed the pregnancy test as I sent a silent prayer to heaven that God wouldn’t be so cruel as to do that to Cathleen. I also grabbed a few bottles of prenatal vitamins just in case God wasn’t listening to me.
I was almost out when I heard a strange noise, which sounded almost like an animal. It wouldn’t be unlike animals to come and feed off the dead; I’d seen it a lot actually. It was a danger I was also trying to prevent. Birds like crows and vultures couldn’t get in here, but bobcats, coyotes and foxes sure could. I peered out of the room and started toward the main doors, but as I moved closer a
Yasunari Kawabata, Edward G. Seidensticker