After looting a Hannaford supermarket, Jack drove us up through Portland to Maine Med. The hospital was an impressive sight. A giant building complex loomed above Portland on a hill. The words MAINE MEDICAL CENTER were emblazoned on its side. Arrving at the enterance, We burst out of the car and ran in. We had decided that it wasn't safe to be in the open for too long.
"Ok, split up!" Jack yelled, "Look for supplies like gauze, band-aids, anesthetics!"
I grabbed Mollie's hand and led her down a hallway, stopping in to check hospital rooms and leaving if they had no value. On one room, Mollie stuck her head in, then pulled it out, looking deathly pale.
"Cam, there's... there's someone in here!"
I walked past her, drawing my Glock at the same time I kicked the door open. The lights were off, but I could make out a figure hunched over a hospital bed. I aimed my Glock at the figure.
"Don't shoot!" rasped the figure.
I didn't, but I kept my sights trained on its head. The figure stood up, and his movement cause the lights to flicker on, illuminating the room. I gasped. The figure was Cole, one of my friends, except he looked like hell. His normally naturally spiked hair peak was flattened, and his hair was uncombed. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he'd been crying a lot, something I never imagined Cole to do. His shirt was in tatters, showing off his six-pack and glimpses of his abs. But what made me drop my gun was who was lying on the hospital bed.
