Rogue heard Imogen’s words, but they failed to rouse her. She was too tired to care, and her eyes drifted shut. With a deep sigh, she gave in to the darkness that beckoned. It welcomed her with open arms, and the world faded away.
Chapter 21 - Kat
Kat wiped her mouth with a wad of toilet paper. The grainy tissue crumbled into a thousand tiny pieces, clinging to her lips and dusting her navy t-shirt with gray flecks. Disgusted, she wiped the bits away and grimaced at the sour tang of vomit in the back of her throat.
Prime City produced its own toilet paper from recycled paper, wood pulp, and water. The stuff was notorious for its poor quality but remained a prized commodity. With a muttered curse, she tossed the paper into the toilet and reached out to flush the bowl. When nothing happened, she stamped her foot. “Damn it. Not again!”
With the influx of patients to the infirmary, the hotel’s age was showing. The electricity went first. The city had a limited capacity to begin with, and its power relied on ancient solar panel systems, battery banks, and a couple of wind turbines. None of which had been properly maintained in years. The plumbing went next. Toilets backed up, pipes burst, and the tanks ran dry as the underground supply ceased to flow.
With everything she had to contend with daily, Kat was at her wit’s end. She aimed a kick at the offending porcelain throne but thought better of it. Instead, she marched toward the kitchens down the hall.
It was around six in the morning, and the cafeteria was a hive of activity. Doctors, nurses, and orderlies reporting for duty grabbed a quick breakfast to start their day. Those coming off shift slouched over the tables, almost too tired to chew. A few unlucky individuals were only halfway through their working hours and needed a stiff cup of coffee to keep going.
Kat nodded at the kitchen’s chief cook, a man called Gregory. “Busy day, Greg?”
He bobbed his head. “You know it.”
“I just want some water, please. The plumbing in the bathrooms is out again,” she added.
“In the cupboard,” he replied.
She grabbed a bottle from the cabinet and took a deep swig. The lukewarm liquid tasted like sand, and she guessed it was well water, but it removed the rancid taste from her mouth.
Next, she grabbed a bottle of disinfectant, cleaned her hands, and pulled on her gloves and mask. “I’ll see you later, Gregory.”
“Have you eaten?” he asked, halting her in her tracks.
“No, but I’m not hungry,” she answered with a grimace. The mere thought of food was enough to set off her morning sickness again, and the smells wafting from the cooking pots weren’t helping either.
“Eat,” he said, leveling a stern look at her.
“I promise I’ll grab something later, but I’m needed at the morgue first,” she said.
“You’re needed here too,” he said. “We have almost no food left, the water is brown, and the fridges keep packing up. That’s on the off chance that we actually have power.”
Kat stifled a groan. “I’m working on it. I promise.”
“Work harder.”
Kat fled before anyone else could corner her and took the steps down to the basement. She hated going to the morgue but could put it off no longer. She was still several yards away from the entrance when the stench hit her in the face. Her stomach heaved, and she gagged as the noxious smell invaded her nostrils. Even the mask didn’t help.
“I told you it was bad,” a strident voice said.
Kat looked up into the eyes of Nurse Harris and winced. The woman’s dark brown eyes were narrowed to slits, and her mocha-colored skin was flushed with heightened emotions. She resembled a spitting cobra, prepared to strike at anything within reach.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Kat said.
“I told you days ago already. Days,” Nurse Harris cried. “I can’t work like this. It’s inhuman.”
“I… I didn’t know it was this bad,” Kat amended, fighting to keep down the water she’d drunk earlier. Her eyes burned, and she dragged her shirt up over her nose. “What’s going on? What’s the problem?”
“What’s the problem?” Nurse Harris repeated, flinging her arms in the air. “Everything!”
“Start from the beginning,” Kat suggested.
“We can’t cope with the number of dead. There are too many. They’re stacked up to the ceiling,” Nurse Harris said.
“Oh, my God. I didn’t realize,” Kat said in a placating tone, but Harris was having none of it.
“That’s the problem. You’re too busy up there in the fresh air catering to the living. Meanwhile, down here, it’s just me, three orderlies, and Dr. Brown. We’re understaffed, overworked, and sick of it,” Harris continued. “To make matters worse, the power is out, which means we can’t cool the bodies. I’m stuck with a morgue filled with bloated, rotting corpses.”
“I’ll get you more hands to lighten the load,” Kat promised.
“When?” Harris demanded.
“Right now. Give me thirty minutes,” Kat said, backing away from the morgue on wobbly legs. The stench was more than her delicate stomach could handle, and she was prepared to barter her soul for a measure of relief.
“And what about the bodies?” Harris asked, stalking her down the hall with relentless determination.
Kat sighed. “I didn’t want to do this unless absolutely necessary, but we’ve reached the point of no return.”
“Yes?” Harris prompted.
“We need to burn the bodies,” Kat said.
“We’re already doing that, but it’s taking too long. They keep piling up,” Harris said, throwing her hands in the air.
“We need to burn them all together.”
“Like a mass grave?” Harris asked.
“Exactly.”
“Well, I’m all for it if you could provide a suitable site, the wagons, and the labor to load and offload the bodies.”
“I’ll see to it.”
“And… you’ll have to handle the angry relatives,” Harris said, her eyes glittering with satisfaction.
“I know,” Kat said. Already, she could envision the trouble a mass burning would bring to her door. But there was no choice. It had to be done. “I’ll see to
