On The Surface

Chapter 9

They pulled their bikes onto the circular drive in front of the massive CDC complex. The left section of the building curved forward in an arc. It was covered with blue rectangles of glass that stretched from bottom to top. The right section of the building sat perpendicular to the arc, and consisted of an underground parking garage made of concrete, topped by a clear glass structure.

Cole climbed off his bike and gently unstrapped Abby. She was unconscious. He lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the entrance. Surely there would be a doctor here who could help her, Kayla thought as she followed Cole across the drive. Jason was right behind her.

Jason ran forward as they reached the door, and tugged on it. It was locked! Kayla started to bang on the door as Cole shouted for someone inside to open up. No one came.

Spotting an intercom to the left of the door, Jason shushed them both and pressed it. It issued a loud buzz. No response. He pressed it again. There had to be someone inside. When he still got no response, he began to press it repeatedly. At last, a tinny voice came out of the speaker.

"The Center for Disease Control and Prevention is no longer in operation."

The three looked at each other, aghast. How could this be? It had to be open. Kayla's knees grew weak and she sat down on a planter by the door. Cole stepped up to the intercom.

"My daughter has been shot. Please, can you help us?"

There was a long moment of silence, then a long buzz, followed by a click as the door disengaged. They pushed through the door and entered a large, and very empty lobby. Not sure where to go, they stood and waited. Abby was slumped against her father's chest.

A man of medium build, dressed in coveralls, exited the bank of elevators on the far side of the lobby. He took one look at Abby and said, "Come with me."

They followed him into the elevator, which they rode to the 14th floor. The young man lead them through a maze of corridors to an examination room. He motioned for Cole to put Abby on the table. Cole laid her down gently, and peeled back her t-shirt, so the doctor could see her wound.

The doctor scrubbed his hands, then donned a pair of blue gloves. He peeled away the gauze and examined the wound. Then he stepped back and addressed Cole.

"Ideally, we would want to open her up and assure there is no internal damage. But there is very little in that area, other than the large intestine, and we just don't have the capability to perform surgery now. The best I can do is dress the wound, which seems to have stopped bleeding and replace some of the fluid she has lost."

Cole nodded his agreement and the young man began. He changed his gloves and inserted a needle into Abby's arm, attached to a bag of saline solution. Then he began to work on her wound. He packed it with gauze and bandaged both front and back, taping it securely. Finally, he wrapped it with an ace bandage to hold everything in place.

"Now we wait for her to wake up," he said, stripping off his gloves.

"Thank you, doctor." Cole replied.

"Oh, I'm no doctor. I'm a janitor."

"A janitor? What the hell do you think you're doing?" Cole exclaimed.

"Hey, you said she needed help. And I served as a corpsman in the Marines. I can handle a field dressing just fine. I'm the most qualified person in the building. Once the Sur 13 moved in, the CDC was forced to shut down. None of the doctors or researchers would risk driving through gang territory to come to work. The only ones left are a few janitors and security personnel."

Cole took a step back and shook his head. "Well I thank you for helping my daughter. Name's Cole, by the way." He stuck his hand out.

The man took it. "Mike."