Unfed by Kirsty McKay Read Free Book Online

at the desk. “Pete? Have a look through those files, see if there’s anything interesting on the computer.”
    He raises a bleached eyebrow at me. “What do you think I’m doing?”
    There’s a pinboard on the wall near me, and I scan it for a map, something about emergency drills, any information — but most of the things pinned there are meaningless. Memos about shift scheduling, a cafeteria menu, telephone extension numbers. In the bottom right-hand corner is a postcard with a lighthouse on it. I notice it because it’s the only splash of color among all the gray scale. Something about it makes me pick it off the board and turn it over in my hands. The reverse is blank, except for the words ELVENMOUTH LIGHT printed in small letters at the bottom. Ifrown. Why does this bother me? I turn the postcard over again; the lighthouse is thin and white, with a band of yellow at the top and a black roof. I stick the pin in it and return it to the board. Something from Martha’s vacay; no reason why it should be anything more.
    “Hey, guys.” I look at Russ and Alice. “Help out here. Look for food and water — or even information. Stuff about who runs this hospital, our medical files, who else they have here. The more we know, the better.”
    Russ leans against the door protectively. “Doesn’t make sense to spend precious energy on a goose chase.”
    “Yeah,” Alice agrees. “Someone will come and get us.”
    “You’re right, Alice,” I say. “Because that worked last time we were surrounded by the Undead.” No one says anything. “So we just wait it out?” I raise my arms in a Huh? When no one replies, I slap them down by my sides, my palms striking my bare thighs with a smack that I instantly regret. “I guess that’s a yes. Unless we want to try fighting our way out with a fire extinguisher and Alice’s barbed comments.”
    Nobody chuckles at this. Nobody even gets it. God, I miss Smitty .
    “Sure, look. And when the coast is clear, we will be out of here. But in the meantime, get comfortable.” Russ opens the fridge door. “Blueberry yogurt, anyone?” he says. “No Veggie Juice, though.”
    “You heard about that,” Alice says.
    “A few times.” Russ smiles into the fridge. “Can’t help hoping I get to see the Carrot Man.”
    “No, you really don’t.” I slam one of the drawers of the filing cabinet. I’m too angry to focus properly on any of the things in them.
    “These files are encrypted,” Pete says from the swivel chair. “Same with e-mail. It’s going to take a minor miracle.”
    “Pray to St. Gertrude.” I open the only other door to reveal a small bathroom. Thank heavens for small blessings. At least we have somewhere to pee. I take a deep breath, close the door again, and turn back to face the group, who are now all searching the room, if a little halfheartedly. Looks like we have Catching Up time. “So what’s the skinny?” I say, overly brightly. “What have you all been up to while I was doing the coma thing?”
    Pete looks at me, his goggles glinting in the reflected light. “You’ve been out cold since the crash?”
    “Apparently.” I bat my eyes at him. “And can I just say, you’ve really let the place go since I was last conscious. I mean, I black out and there are just a handful of zoms stomping through the snow, and then I wake up and an entire country has been quarantined. Talk about sloppy.”
    Pete pushes his chair away from the desk and rolls into the middle of the room in a way he clearly thinks is impressive. “They had me in isolation for a week. Same with Russ.”
    I pull out a bunch of files from the top drawer of the cabinet, place them on the floor in front of me, and start skimming through them. Most of it is pretty boring. I look at Russ. “So you were on the bus, too?”
    He nods. “We were on our way back home from Aviemore. School trip. In fact, I remember seeing your school there. I recognized you all when we picked you up on the