It had only been four hours since Sasha, Tashell and Ruby left the hospital to go to the Milford Hotel and Carla was struggling to keep the peace between a few of the seventeen surviving members.
"I'm telling you they won't come back for us! It's every man for themselves," Lawrence assumed. His stubble face sported a mean smirk, while he fondled with the red baseball cap, covering his bald spot. "We have to leave this retched hospital if we have a chance of surviving."
A ruckus of whispers erupted among the group.
"Lawrence, stop scaring the others. My friends will be back soon and with the help they promised," Carla tried to calm the situation.
"With all due respect, sheriff, but Lawrence is right, we've been here for a month now, and we know we're running out of food. How many days before the food runs out, one, two?" Courtney, Lawrence's wife, snickered. She ran a hand over her bleach blond hair in frustration.
"Look, guys, I won't lie to you. Yes, we are a bit short on food, but let us worry about it. The girls and I will figure it all out when they get back," Carla declared.
"You mean if they get back," Courtney cackled. Her Botox face and uneven plastic chest, a stiff disaster as she giggled. Carla found it horrifying how unnatural she looked. Everyone in town knew she only married Lawrence because he won a few million dollars in the lotto a few years ago, let's just say half of it was spent on wild parties every weekend doing cocaine and meth and the other half was spent on Courtney's botched plastic doll image.
"And who the fuck put you and your little prissy friends in charge?" Lawrence asked. "Not me. How about you guys?" He turned around asking the other members, his beer belly barely being covered behind his black Kiss t-shirt.
"Lawrence, if you don't sit your ass down, I swear to God I will —"
"You'll what sheriff? Shoot me?" Lawrence got in her face.
"Back up, Lawrence," Carla warned.
"Make me," Lawrence giggled, his breath fanning against her forehead. "I always thought you were a cute little thing," he giggled. "But I never understood how you happen to beat out all those other deputies at the station to become sheriff."
"I worked hard for this Lawrence, and I earned it fair and square, now back the fuck off!" Carla stepped back and pointed her gun at him. "Don't let me shoot you."
Lawrence stared her down for a while, and then he stepped away. "This is bullshit!" He yelled as he kicked the air.
Carla figured out what his problem was, she saw it in his eyes. He was out of cocaine. And by his red, tired eyes, his sweaty face and trembling hands, he was having a bad case of withdrawal syndrome. She strutted over to nurse Ozone, who was attending to the pregnant woman Carla saved on the first day of the outbreak. "Hey, nurse Ozone, can I talk to you for a second — in private?" Carla asked.
"Sure thing Sherrif and I told you, it's Grace," she smiled, then she turned to the pregnant woman. "Alice, I'll be right back, but try and get some rest, ok?" Grace smiled and the woman nodded.
Carla and Grace walked to a private corner of the room.
"How is she?" Carla asked, preferring to the pregnant woman.
"Alice is due in three months, but the stress of this whole ordeal is getting to her. If she doesn't try and keep her stress levels down, she could go into early labour, and then we'll be in serious trouble."
"Why is that?"
"The baby is breached, she'd need a C-section and the maternity wing is crawling with those things," Grace explained.
"I see. I'll talk to the others about a solution for Alice when they get back. In the meantime, what can you do about someone experiencing withdrawal syndrome?"
"You're talking about Lawrence and Courtney?"
"Yes," Carla shook her head.
"Well, Courtney only uses it because Lawrence tells her to. She told my friend down at the support group that she hates it, so I don't think she chooses to do it, but if she hasn't used it in ten days or so I could give her naltrexone, it will help with the cravings and the desire to use," Grace sighed. "As for Lawrence, I think his best bet is buprenorphine, it won't help with the cravings, and he'd still get high off it, but it's less harmful, and he stands a less chance of overdosing."
"Ok. So where can we get those drugs?"
"Well, we'd have to swim through a lot of zombies to get to the room," Grace bit her lip as she imagined navigating through the undead. Her bold brown eyes widened, she wasn't much of a fighter. She was a lover of all things good and beautiful.
It was easy for Carla to read Grace's mind. Carla placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Grace, don't worry. We all will get through this. I promise."
Grace relaxed as she released an uneasy breath. Her honey brown skin still a bit pale as her worries faded.
Grace Ozone had been a registered nurse at the Beaumont hospital for three years. She was a quiet person, sometimes shy, but when it came to her duties, she was always ready and focused. Her patients always loved her because of her motherly smile and bubbly aura.
Tashell and Sasha were drawn to her personality immediately upon meeting, so Grace was their favourite nurse they would call on to work with.
"Thanks, Carla," Grace gave Carla a small smile before she hurried back to Alice.
Carla wondered how much longer would the others be. She hoped they didn't run into any trouble, but who was she kidding, she knew her friends and because she knew them so well, her anxiety was getting the best of her as crazy scenarios involving her friends infiltrated her mind.
Sasha was the type of person who thought the whole world was trying to get her, so she would try to kill a fucker all because she thought they couldn't be trusted. Then Tashell and Ruby would help her burn the body. Carla sighed when she imagined them dragging some poor unfortunate soul along the corridor of the hotel, then setting his corpse on fire.
Tashell on the other hand would stab a fucker first, with her shoot now ask questions later attitude. Then Sasha and Ruby would assist her in torturing the poor soul to death. Carla gulped as she pictured them laughing maniacally as they skinned the poor fellow of his skin.
"Ruby, oh God!" Carla moaned. Ruby would sweet talk her way so that a fucker would trust her, then, Jesus forbids this person a female, because Ruby would probably sleep with her if she was hot enough and after the lovemaking was over, she'd slit the woman's throat and of course Tashell and Sasha would help her dispose of the body.
Carla sat in an empty chair by the window and chewed on her nails. "No, get a grip of yourself," she coaxed herself. "My girls wouldn't do that," she looked up to the ceiling as if she was seeking God's answer. "Would they?"
Carla said a quick prayer asking God to guide and protect her friends and her husband as he made his journey to the hospital.
A series of gunshots woke up the atmosphere. Carla jumped to her feet, brushing off her daydreams.
"What was that?" Grace asked terrified.
Carla peeped out the window and saw three men opening fire on the zombies down below. In the distance, two vehicles were parked. A white Ford van and a military truck.
"They're here, rescue is here for us," Lawrence beamed as he too took a glimpse outside. He grabbed his belongings. "Get your shit babe. We're finally gonna get out of here." He told Courtney.
"Wait!" Carla advised as she scrutinised the men down below. If they were military personnel they would be wearing army clothes, but the men down below were all dressed in biker outfits. Jeans and leather jackets.
Something was not right.