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Planet of The Living Dead
1.11 - The Night Me and Your Momma Met

1.11 - The Night Me and Your Momma Met

I bash the lock separating me from the other side of the hospital where I had heard noises. If there were grubs inside, they would have started coming towards the door the first few times I bashed it, but I didn’t hear anything but a few echoes. I’m sure they’ve got other passages they use, but this is the most direct for me. I’m not going to search for whatever they’re using to get around, it would be a waste of time. Even with the power still running and the place being well lit, an abandoned hospital is terrifying. It’s been raided for medicine, there’s broken equipment and none of it provides the healing atmosphere. I don’t have override codes, and I don’t know how to bypass the lock’s security but bashing it until it breaks is often good enough no matter how sophisticated the tech is. The lock gives out a quick deflated siren before going silent with one last slam from the butt of my rifle. The door slides open, and I quickly slip in. There’s nothing immediately different than the side we’ve been staying in. There doesn’t seem to be any doctors working, or grubs lurching through the halls. It’s just a hospital, but something has to be here for it to be locked down.

Glass broken on medicine cabinets, equipment stripped for valuable components and various pills cover the floors. None of the rooms seem to have anyone inside either. I’ve seen nothing to confirm my suspicions of others inside the hospital, yet the feeling of being watched is so much more intense than it’s been at any other point during our stay. Coming across the cafeteria excites me, I knew there had to be one in this place somewhere. The vending machines have already been pried open or had the glass broken out by someone else. All that remains are the things nobody else wanted, which is fine with me. I don’t mind helping myself to a bottle of juice and a bag of citrus flavored crisps. I don’t even like citrus flavor, but it’s so much better than green beans. I head towards the main kitchen area, curious if there’s been any real food left behind. Marshall might actually be happy if there’s meat and some real food may help lift Marki up. I don’t make it all the way into the kitchen before I can smell it, there’s actual food cooking in there.

When I enter the kitchen, it’s empty, just the smell of food that used to be there. I know the scent couldn’t have been left over from when the hospital was up and running. I remove one of my gauntlets, stretch my fingers and let them hover over a stovetop. It’s warm, someone is here.

I check the back exit to the kitchen, there are footsteps echoing down the hall so I take after them. Turning corners keeps me from getting a good look at them but it’s a person, every so often I’m fast enough to get a glimpse at their shoes. We take a right, then make a left, then another right, then a lift. Marshall radios in but I’m in chase, I don’t bother answering. I should at least tell him what I’m doing but I might lose my target. A quick right, then a left, another right and one more right. We come to a stop in a recreation room.

I’m finally getting a good look at who I was chasing. A woman, butterscotch complexion, with long dreadlocks tied into a ponytail. She’s doesn’t have a runner’s body, she’s tall, more meat on her bones as my mother would say but she doesn’t seem winded at all. To top it all off she’s carrying a tray of what looks to be some kind of cooked and shredded meat with sandwich buns that are almost as beautiful as she is. If she left it behind, she would have outrun me.

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“Hey, I’m Duane, didn’t know there were other people here. Nice to meet you,” I try to make conversation.

“I’m Aimina,” she replies with a smile. “Want a sandwich,” she offers the tray to me.

I know I shouldn’t take food from a strange woman I just met but, “yeah, I’d love one.”

I reach for a bun, a peace offering. Without dropping the tray, she somehow electrocutes me. She had a taser hidden. She takes off out the room. The door slams closed before I can recover. I press the button to open the door and it’s been locked. She’s got control over the hospital.

“Hey, I’m trapped, in some sort of recreational room. There’s other people in the hospital.”

“Do they have food,” Marshall asks.

“Yeah, they’ve got food.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. I’ll come find you.

“How’s Marki doing?”

“Not much better, but not worse either,” Marshall’s voice sounds unsure.

Most people wouldn’t mind being trapped in a rec room. There’s worse places to be locked in. For me it just brings back painful memories. I got in trouble a lot as a kid and before they sent me off to the academy they tried a lot of different things. I was institutionalized for a few months, worst time of my life. They kept telling me I was prone to outburst of rage and needed to be locked away for my safety and the safety of others. I was locked in there with some other kids who were real monsters. I wasn’t any angrier than the average teenager, but they had me locked up with kids who killed animals because they wanted to see how they worked. I thinks that’s why I committed everything to the academy, I just didn’t want to go back to the hospital. My skin is crawling, just thinking about it. I hope Marshall gets here quickly and doesn’t take his time. I want to check on Marki, and maybe get one of those sandwiches.

Thirty-six minutes pass by before the door slides open. The first person I notice is Aimina looking distraught holding the tray of food. Behind her is Marshall’s hulking figure with a mouth full.

“This the one who trapped you,” he asks.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Really surprised you fell for her trap. Didn’t think she was your type,” Marshall chuckles.

“Food must have you in a great mood.”

“It does.”

“Aimina, is that your real name,” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s my real name,” she answers angrily.

“Are there more survivors in the hospital,” I ask, but she doesn’t answer.

“Answer the man, because I’m the one with a gun and way more likely to blow your head off if you endanger my life,” Marshall returns to his normal disposition.

“Yes, there are others,” she answers.

“How many,” I ask.

“There are six of us.”

“Any of you infected?”

“No.”

“How long you been here?”

“We’ve been holding out since the start.”

“Take us to the others.”

“I can’t betray them like that. I don’t know what kind of people you are,” Aimina argues.

“He said take us to them,” Marshall reminds her of the gun.

I don’t approve of his methods, but they get results. I want to survive just as much as he does, so for now, I’ll go along with it.