Outbreak: Boston by Robert Van Dusen Read Free Book Online Page B

was. Frays handed the EMT a zip tie from the suspender of her LCS. “I'll grab the other one. Once we've got him held down, use the zip ties to tie his arms to the stretcher.”
    The two of them knelt beside the stretcher as the man groaned and tried to reach for them. “Onetwothree!” Amy shouted. The two of them grabbed the wounded man's limbs and pinned them to the earth, struggling to keep the man under control as they tried to restrain him. Lacey pounced on the man's legs while the sergeant screamed at them, the NCO standing by the man's head.
    Amy pinned the man's arm to the ground and after a little struggle managed to zip tie the limb to the aluminum pole of the stretcher. Eamon seemed to be having a little more trouble restraining the man. Amy took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut and threw herself across the diseased man’s chest, trying to use her weight to pin the man so the EMT could tie him down. A gurgling sound grew in the patient’s stomach. Apparently Eamon heard it too because they both scrambled away as a jet of vomit erupted from the man's mouth.
    “Aw! God! Fuckin’ shit goddamn!” screamed the sergeant as he pawed at his eyes. Amy smirked until she saw the chunks of sticky looking stuff and thick fluid spattered across the legs of her trousers. She staggered to her feet and made a knock kneed run for the trucks. Frays propped herself up against the nearest Five Ton and retched so hard she half expected to see her liver lying on the grass.              
    One of the privates walked over to Amy, looking at the young woman with a mixture of concern and disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked, reaching out and putting a hand on her back. “Would you like some water?”
    Once she felt she was capable of opening her mouth without blowing chunks Amy straightened up a little, turned to the young man and asked “For the love of God, can you get me a water can? I gotta get this crap off me!”
    The sergeant stumbled off towards the command trailer, bumping into Lieutenant Guzman as the policeman came out to see what was going on. The wounded man crawled towards the policeman, now trying to drag the stretcher with him. “Gotta shoot 'em all.” he muttered as he drew his pistol from its holster and casually blew half the man's head off.
    One of the casualties, a young black man with a horrific head wound wrapped in thick bandages, scrambled awkwardly to his feet and stumbled away from the sound of the shot. Amy completely forgot about her own nausea and chased him down. “Hey there.” she said calmly as she caught up to him and took him by the hand. “Come on back and lay down, alright?” Frays made little calming noises as if she were talking to an upset child.
    Two gunshots rang out and the man fell like a puppet with its strings cut, his life pumping away through a pair of holes in his chest. Frays stared numbly at her hand then started across the supply depot towards the policeman. “W -what the heck is wrong with you?!” she shouted, her fingers curling tight around the pistol grip of her carbine. “Why…why would you do that?”
    Guzman pointed his Glock at Frays, a little red dot dancing on the center of the woman's flak jacket. “Gotta shoot 'em all.” the policeman muttered, suddenly aware that Eamon and Lacey were closing in on him. “GOTTA SHOOT 'EM ALL!”
    He wheeled about, trying to cover all three of them at the same time. This worked out as well as one might expect: as soon as the policeman started to turn towards Eamon, Lacey jumped him. The Marine knocked the pistol from the policeman's hand and pinned his arms behind his back. Frays ran up and smacked Guzman on the temple with the butt of her M4. Lacey lowered the man to the ground as Frays pressed the muzzle of her weapon into the back of the man's neck. “Here, secure his hands.” she growled as she passed the Marine one of her zip strips.
    Eamon picked up the policeman's Glock as Lacey