The drive between campus and Burlington Hospital is a mix between small town and corporate America. You get ma and pa shops intermixed with giant fuel businesses on top of fast-food chains. Country plains slowly turn into gas stations and retail stores as you venture further down the road.
I kept quiet for the first 10 miles of the trip. For one my sister was trying to balance a level of focus and complete hysteria behind the wheel. There have been very few times I've seen her this way. The only time I could think of in recent memory was when she had a huge chemistry test in high school. I remember sitting at the dinner table with her while I was doing my homework. Her face reflects how she feels and she by no means intends to hide that fact. Her eyes squint a little and her forehead forms a frown. The biggest feature though is how she moves. Movements that were once frantic become slow. She takes time to coordinate her eyes with her hands. Maybe she was always destined to be a nurse or doctor.
I turned back to the world around me. The narrow city streets were flooded with cars that had piled up in accidents or had come to a screeching stop. Finding different ways around these obstacles became a bigger problem as we drove further.
"Do you think its a chemical weapon?" I inquired to Christin. She remained silent for a moment. "It can't be, chemical weapons often have an odor or trace in the air. They also only have an affected area of 15 miles at most. After that, the chemical compound starts to dissolve. I remember having a section about that in one of my classes."
"Do you think maybe there's no oxygen in the air?"
"It can't be that either. Oxygen is vital to the structure of any or all matter. An absence of it would have a more destructive case on the environment."
"You think Crenshaw knows whats going on?"
"Maybe, that's if he's still alive."
Christin left it at that. I kept running scenarios through my mind that could possibly explain what was going on. No O-Zone maybe a chemical leak. I even went as far as to consider that I was in a coma and this was some sick dream brought on by a drug.
The car came to an abrupt stop. We had finally hit the point of no driving. The entirety of the freeway was a disaster. A gas tanker had blown up and left a trail of fire. On the other side were lanes full of semi-trucks. "End of the line. We'll have to go out on foot," said Christin.
My first steps out from the car were cautious. The crunch of shattered glass after my feet hit the ground made me freeze for a moment. Christin jogged forward and got on top of a white SUV. She looked out towards the freeway ahead. Burlington was tucked away in the city a couple of miles from us. She dropped down from the car and approached me.
"Burlington is about two or three miles ahead of us. We have maybe 40 minutes' worth of oxygen. Less if we start running. Once we get into the facility we'll have to start searching rooms for oxygen tanks. You got your phone on you?"
"No, I left it in my room," I replied.
Christin took out her phone and set a timer for 40 minutes. "You ready?" She asked. I nodded yes. The trip was no doubt a risk of time. Sure we could've pushed a couple of cars around and maybe squeezed the civic through. But for all that work we would've blown through our oxygen tanks. Not to mention, I would've been zero help since I can't put too much strain on my lungs and muscles. Well, it didn't matter now because in 40 minutes we were either going too have new tanks or end up dead.
Navigating the freeway was a horrific endeavor. Not only did we have to be careful as to not get our plastic tube of life support cut from our tank but also the sheer level of death that surrounded us. Cars full of people that might've been heading back from work, the bar, or maybe a family dinner. I won't go into too much description but to see what had become of them was that of a nightmare. By the 20 minute mark, we began to pick up our pace. The city limits along with the buildings that enclosed Burlington started to stretch around us. Surprisingly the street lights were still going. Just before we reached the parking lot we found an ambulance that had been thrown onto the sidewalk. In the back sat a paramedic who was connected to an oxygen tank. This was the only person we had seen that had survived. Christin checked her timer. We had 10 minutes. Before we could enter the hospital Christin checked with the man to see if he was ok.
"Sir, are you ok?" Asked Cristin to the stranger. He looked too her. His face drained of color as if he saw two ghosts approaching him. "I'm doing fine as is. You here to find help?" He responded.
"No, I'm here to check up on someone."
"Well good luck. We tried radioing the hospital. No one responded. Then all of a sudden it felt like I was…"
"Suffocating," said Christin.
The paramedic nodded. I looked behind him to see a deceased patient. It was an older man probably in his late 60's. I noticed that the oxygen that was sat next to him wasn't connected to him but rather the paramedic. I didn't want to start asking questions that I already knew the answers to. Christin checked her timer. We had six minutes before our oxygen tank was out.
As we entered Burlington we quickly noticed how deserted it was. Which was surprising considering the numerous nights I would be rushed to the hospital and the lobby was packed. There was no one present at the welcome desk which made it even eerier. Christin started to run back towards the rooms beyond the counter. She ran through each room in search of a fresh tank. I took to searching the back rooms and supply lockers. Christin checked her phone again. The timer had just hit three minutes. There was nothing of use on the first floor. We went up the elevator to start searching the second floor which was mostly comprised of intensive care. Both of us knew that there had to be an area with oxygen tanks. I knew we had hit the one minute mark has we got off the elevator. In my experience when an oxygen tank starts to run low you have to take bigger breathes. Most of the time you're supposed to switch out after the two minutes. However, one minute is the last straw for most patients.
Christin finally found a supply locker that had a warning sign. No Fire or Fumes Beyond This Point. The door was padlocked.
"Fuck!"
Christin was furious. I looked to a fire extinguisher at the corner of the hallway. I started to towards it before I felt it. A sharp pain in my chest struck at me. Like a dagger that had pierced right through my rib cage. My movement slowed significantly has the pain that restricted me to move forward. Christin looked to the timer. 20 seconds on the dot. I finally approached the extinguisher and rolled it to Christin. Its red cylinder exterior meets her hands. Once she had picked it up she began furiously banging at the lock.
BANG….BANG…BANG
As I walked towards her I fell to my knees. The pain was immeasurable.
BANG
The padlock finally gave away. Christin threw aside the lock along with the fire extinguisher before entering the room. I sat down next to the door trying to slowly pace out my breathing to alleviate the pain. The dagger was inching closer to my lungs. I heard a thud come from the room, but finally, Christin came out with two oxygen tanks. She dropped one to her side. She quickly removed the tube from my old tank and repurposed it onto the new one. I breathed in slowly. The pain was starting to trickle away as breath after breath came out. Christin replaced her tank and took in a deep breath.
"That was….way too close," I remarked with a chuckle. Christin let out a giggle and looked to me. We got to our feet and began moving to the third floor. Dr. Crenshaw's office was on the third floor of Burlington nowadays. Back when I was under his care it was always on the first floor which happened to be where the pediatrician's offices where. Upon departing the elevator I look towards a window that overlooked Lennon. The city was covered with floral yellow lights. The same lights that drove my parents to live here 32 years ago. Christin and I moved to the offices and came upon Crenshaw's door. Christin knocked. I looked down at the floor to notice a stain of blood that had leaked out from the room. I tapped Christin on her shoulder and pointed towards the blood.
"Doctor!! It's me, Christin McKenzie. I'm here with my brother William McKenzie! Are you in there?!"
Nothing. Christin put her hand to the doorknob and slowly turned it. The door opened slowly to reveal the rooms' inner contents.
