busy urinating on the wall. He was the source of the moaning.
Carlton chuckled and whispered, "Jerry, you know better than that. Where is Penny? She would have taken you back to your room."
Hearing the voice, Jerry, turned to look at Carlton and lifted a left hand and waved at him and smiled. The stream of urine followed his turn and left a wet line across the wall as he moved. The stream slowed and stopped. Jerry reached down and pulled his pants up. Carlton thought he would fall over, but the man managed it. He buttoned his pants and much to Carlton's chagrin, left his fly open with the horse out of the barn.
Carlton ignored Jerry and continued to sweep the room looking for any other movement. There was a light on in the kitchen area. That illuminated the dining areas of the home. There were two bodies seated at the tables that were unmoving as well.
From behind him, Carlton heard Mikayla gasp, "Zombie, oh, shit."
Spinning around, he quickly spoke, "No wait! It's Jerry. He's a resident here. Trust me, he's harmless."
From behind Mikayla, Meredith spoke, "Oh my, he's not a bashful guy, is he."
"Leave the nice man alone, ladies. We need to open the med cart."
He moved to the office door and looked inside. The medical cart was locked inside. Not wanting to wait, he lifted his booted foot and kicked the door handle. The door broke and swung into the room. He waved Mikayla into the room to look at the cart.
She moved into the room and pulled at the drawers of the medical cart. They were, of course, locked. She pulled a small flashlight from her pocket and shone it around the room. There on the wall was a set of keys on a lanyard. The type a busy nurse would wear around her neck when trying to administer medications to thirty or so patients. She grabbed the keys and began to work. The fifth key on the ring of eight keys unlocked the medical cart. The top drawer had some notes taken on the patients. It was dated two weeks ago. Just about the time the outbreak began. These people had been abandoned, but the staff took the time to lock up the medications and tidy up before they left. She just shook her head in disbelief.
On top of the medical cart was a closed laptop computer. That probably had everything she needed to know, but if there was any kind of password on it, it would take too long to figure it out. She went through the various drawers looking for a familiar vial.
In the third drawer, she found it. She pulled the vial out of the box and read the tag. It was insulin. But the handwritten date on the vial made her heart sink. The vial was over four weeks old. She knew that if you did not refrigerate insulin, it would go bad in less than a month. The vial in her hand was worthless. She slid it in her pocket anyway.
"Carlton, we need to find the fridge where they keep the meds cool."
She used her flashlight to check her pump. The small box that kept a constant stream of insulin to her blinked its warning. She was running low. If the light turned to red, she had less than four days to live. Her hope was now, but a small dying ember. After all, if they refilled her pump, that only gave her another month's supply. They had to keep any extra that they found cold. There was a sword poised above her head and the threads holding it there were slowly parting.
Carlton called out, "Follow me."
He swept the area in front of them. They moved into the center of the atrium. The last time Carlton was here, he remembered it being so neat and orderly. There was a puddle at the base of the tree. Apparently the wall was not the only target of Jerry's bladder relief efforts.
The first of the wheelchairs was in front of them. Carlton pushed on the body with the barrel of his rifle. The body was stiff and unyielding. It also smelled of death and feces. With no one to feed or give these people their medicines, they had died wherever they had rolled themselves. Shining the flashlight on the second wheelchair in the atrium, he spotted
Carlton chuckled and whispered, "Jerry, you know better than that. Where is Penny? She would have taken you back to your room."
Hearing the voice, Jerry, turned to look at Carlton and lifted a left hand and waved at him and smiled. The stream of urine followed his turn and left a wet line across the wall as he moved. The stream slowed and stopped. Jerry reached down and pulled his pants up. Carlton thought he would fall over, but the man managed it. He buttoned his pants and much to Carlton's chagrin, left his fly open with the horse out of the barn.
Carlton ignored Jerry and continued to sweep the room looking for any other movement. There was a light on in the kitchen area. That illuminated the dining areas of the home. There were two bodies seated at the tables that were unmoving as well.
From behind him, Carlton heard Mikayla gasp, "Zombie, oh, shit."
Spinning around, he quickly spoke, "No wait! It's Jerry. He's a resident here. Trust me, he's harmless."
From behind Mikayla, Meredith spoke, "Oh my, he's not a bashful guy, is he."
"Leave the nice man alone, ladies. We need to open the med cart."
He moved to the office door and looked inside. The medical cart was locked inside. Not wanting to wait, he lifted his booted foot and kicked the door handle. The door broke and swung into the room. He waved Mikayla into the room to look at the cart.
She moved into the room and pulled at the drawers of the medical cart. They were, of course, locked. She pulled a small flashlight from her pocket and shone it around the room. There on the wall was a set of keys on a lanyard. The type a busy nurse would wear around her neck when trying to administer medications to thirty or so patients. She grabbed the keys and began to work. The fifth key on the ring of eight keys unlocked the medical cart. The top drawer had some notes taken on the patients. It was dated two weeks ago. Just about the time the outbreak began. These people had been abandoned, but the staff took the time to lock up the medications and tidy up before they left. She just shook her head in disbelief.
On top of the medical cart was a closed laptop computer. That probably had everything she needed to know, but if there was any kind of password on it, it would take too long to figure it out. She went through the various drawers looking for a familiar vial.
In the third drawer, she found it. She pulled the vial out of the box and read the tag. It was insulin. But the handwritten date on the vial made her heart sink. The vial was over four weeks old. She knew that if you did not refrigerate insulin, it would go bad in less than a month. The vial in her hand was worthless. She slid it in her pocket anyway.
"Carlton, we need to find the fridge where they keep the meds cool."
She used her flashlight to check her pump. The small box that kept a constant stream of insulin to her blinked its warning. She was running low. If the light turned to red, she had less than four days to live. Her hope was now, but a small dying ember. After all, if they refilled her pump, that only gave her another month's supply. They had to keep any extra that they found cold. There was a sword poised above her head and the threads holding it there were slowly parting.
Carlton called out, "Follow me."
He swept the area in front of them. They moved into the center of the atrium. The last time Carlton was here, he remembered it being so neat and orderly. There was a puddle at the base of the tree. Apparently the wall was not the only target of Jerry's bladder relief efforts.
The first of the wheelchairs was in front of them. Carlton pushed on the body with the barrel of his rifle. The body was stiff and unyielding. It also smelled of death and feces. With no one to feed or give these people their medicines, they had died wherever they had rolled themselves. Shining the flashlight on the second wheelchair in the atrium, he spotted
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