The Ebola Wall by Joe Nobody, E. T. Ivester, D. Allen Read Free Book Online Page B

emergency room entrance. Rounding a corner, he came upon a grassy area filled with patients lying on the ground, nurses and aides hustling everywhere to deliver care.
    Fireman and staff were bringing more stretchers to the triage area, often laying the patients on the grass and then rushing back into the building to retrieve others. It was bedlam.
    He made for the entrance, but paused after encountering a harried-looking nurse with a clipboard. She intercepted two fireman exiting with a stretcher between them. “Where is that patient from?” she demanded.
    “The 2 nd floor, east end,” came the reply.
    “Over there,” she pointed. “Do you know the patient’s name?”
    “Are you kidding me, lady?” the exhausted rescuer snapped. “I don’t know my own name right now.”
    Not giving her time to catch a breath, Taylor approached with authority. “Where are the 4 th floor oncology patients, nurse?”
    Without even looking up, the frustrated woman pointed towards a section of the grounds. “Over there, just past the fountain,” she responded.
    Taylor didn’t bother to thank the woman, figuring he’d already pressed his luck. He identified the collection of prone cancer patients lying haphazardly on the otherwise meticulously manicured lawn. Three of the bodies were covered, head-to-toe, with sheets. After unsuccessfully scanning the infirm for some sign of recognition, he began the unpleasant task of peering under the linens in search of her. Less than a minute later, he found his spouse. Jenny was dead.
    The colonel couldn’t remember much after pulling back that sheet. His wife’s normally bright face was blackened by smoke residue, her hair smelling like she’d been hovering over a campfire for an entire weekend. The grief-stricken husband simply sat down on the grass and began weeping, gripping his mate’s cold hand.
    Taylor had no idea how long he’d sat beside Jenny’s body. What he could recall was being shaken out of his trance by a small explosion, immediately followed by the screaming of several dozen people. Someone had torched a police car, the demonstration now escalating into a full-blown riot.
    It took him a few moments to shake off the fog of bereavement, to pull his head out of the muddle of losing the only thing in life he had left. Both of his sons were dead and gone – Jenny had been it. Bending to give his wife one last kiss on the forehead, Taylor rose stoically and began meandering back to his car.
    Mass confusion and turmoil swirled around the colonel as he trekked through what had essentially become a combat zone. With squared shoulders and a stiff walk, he marched right past the worst of it. He felt there was nothing left to lose.
    He was met with friendly, caring faces upon returning to the complex. Most of the men in his employ could tell something had gone badly wrong. His people rallied around their stricken comrade, offering condolences and sympathy when he finally announced that his wife had died in the fire.
    If there was any silver lining to the colonel’s cloud, it was in the timing. He was barely functioning two days later when the fever hit. A grief-filled core had voided his appetite, so there wasn’t much to vomit. The pain brought on by Ebola-B was nothing compared to the agony he was already experiencing.
    Houston had slid into complete anarchy. There were no functioning hospitals, no available ambulances. Cell and landline phone service had all but ceased to exist. Roving mobs of angry, dejected people roamed the streets outside of the complex’s high barbwire fences.
    The security team, now living exclusively within the confines of the complex’s grounds, did its job. Some sense of survival brought them together, an instinct that made them all realize that the only thing separating their families from the animal-like behavior outside the gates was each other. They did what they were hired to do, protecting the warehouses and facilities under their