Ex-Heroes, Peter Clines [reading like a writer txt] 📗

only one who could carry him up the damned stairs. You know what the Stage Five farm’s like.”

They all nodded.

He swept down the sides of his trenchcoat and gave the sheriff’s badge a quick brush. “Anyway, I’ve got rounds to make and I’m behind now.” He tipped his head to St. George. “Watch yourself out there this afternoon.”

“Hey, yeah,” said the other guard. He tipped his head after Gorgon. “Boss says all y’all’s going out today?”

St. George nodded. “Sheets have been up for a few days. You didn’t see?”

The man shook his head. He had a salt-and-pepper beard that added a dozen years to his face.

“If your shift’s over by eleven, be at Melrose,” said the hero. “We can fit you in.”

“I’ll be there.” The guard shifted the rifle on his shoulder.

Another guard stood inside the door and gave him a nod. Zukor was the most heavily defended building on the lot. If an outbreak happened inside the walls, it would start here. Each emergency room had three armed guards and all the medical staff carried sidearms. If someone died, putting a bullet in their brain was a top priority.

St. George paused at the large sign dominating the right-hand wall. Each of the letters was four inches tall. He’d memorized it at this point, but its sheer size made him look every time.

WARNING SIGNS

FEVER – DIZZINESS – CHILLS – WEAKNESS –

HEADACHES – BLURRED OR DOUBLE VISION –

DIARRHEA – NAUSEA – CONGESTION –

PALE SKIN – TROUBLE BREATHING

PERSONS EXHIBITING ANY OF THESE SYMPTOMS

MUST PRESENT THEMSEVLES FOR

TESTING AND QUARANTINE

IMMEDIATELY

The Adolph Zukor Building hadn’t always been the Mount’s hospital, but Stealth had pointed out they needed something more central and better equipped than the small first-aid office off Avenue P. Deeper into the lobby was a statue of the man himself. St. George had moved it out of the way when they put the sign in.

He found Doctor Connolly in her office. Roger Mikkelson was sprawled across the examination table, his head wedged in place with two rolled-up towels. She tied off a fourth and final stitch in the man’s forehead and mopped up some blood with a piece of gauze.

“Shouldn’t you use anesthetic or something when you do that?”

A few streaks of silver highlighted Doctor Connolly’s crimson hair, and fine wrinkles marked the edges of her eyes. She’d been a medical researcher when they found her in the remains of Hollywood Presbyterian. Now she was in charge of their small hospital staff. “Anesthetic’s a limited resource,” she said, “and Gorgon told me I had at least half an hour before he regained consciousness.” She smiled and peeled off her gloves. “To what do I owe the honor?”

He gestured up to the lights with his chin. “We’re going to have to put you on solar for a while. Barry’s coming out with us.”

“How long?”

“Four or five hours, tops. Do you have anything critical?”

She shook her head. “Slow week.” She nodded at Mikkelson. “He’ll be out of here once he wakes up. We’ve just got a broken leg, a concussion, and a gunshot wound staying here tonight.”

“Who got shot by who?”

“Zekiel Reid, Luke’s brother. He nodded off on the Marathon roof with his finger on the trigger. Ricochet caught him in the calf.”

“Idiot.”

“Lucky idiot,” Connolly said. “At that range he could’ve blown his foot off. If the bullet got him in the thigh, he would’ve bled out hopping here.”

“You don’t sound too surprised.”

She shrugged. “We’ve been seeing more and more accidents from the wall.”

“You think they’re trying to get out of guard duty?”

“I think they’re bored silly.”

“Yeah. Who would’ve guessed survival would be so dull?”

“To hell with that,” she snorted. “Who’d guess living in a movie studio would be so dull?”

“When I get back I’ll see about setting up shorter shifts. I think Gorgon has a few people ready to go on active guard duty.”

“Can I toss an idea at you? It’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Sure.”

She settled back against the wall. “Back before Nine-Eleven, I did a semester abroad in Egypt. Cairo American College. They were already nuts about security then. It took a serious effort to go anywhere and not have line of sight to a soldier or a police officer. Turns out they were having the same problem, though. All these men standing around for hours and hours every day with nothing happening. They were getting careless and having tons of accidents. Soldiers were shooting themselves in the leg or the foot. If they were on a tower they could even shoot people below them.”

St. George nodded. “How’d they solve it?”

“They stopped loading the guns.”

He smiled. “I don’t think that’ll fly with Stealth.”

Connolly shook her head. “They gave them ammo. They just didn’t let them stand around with it. They’d tape two clips together, one up, one down. That way the guns weren’t loaded, but all they had to do was flip the clips over and they’d be ready to go.”

“And you just happened to notice all that?”

“I was fifteen years younger, twenty pounds lighter, and traveling alone.” She gave him a smirk. “Men talked to me about anything they could think of.”

Across from them, Mikkelson groaned and twitched. A shiver passed through him and a slow hand reached up to feel his stitches.

“I hear it’s like having one of the worst hangovers of your life,” she said with a nod at the shuddering man.

“That it is. Any other news?”

“I think we’ve made a small breakthrough with the ex-virus. Nothing groundbreaking, from a practical point of view, but I’ll know for sure when some tests finish up this afternoon.”

He nodded.

Mikkelson almost fell off the table and swore under his breath. He stood on wobbly legs, took in a breath to start shouting, and saw St. George. The hero gave him a slow nod. “Problem, Roger?”

“I just wanted a couple extra mushrooms,” he muttered. “I was hungry. What the fuck’s the big deal?”

“I think when you take stuff that’s not yours they call it stealing.”

“They’re fucking