Chapter 25: Karina and Paul
Harrison Memorial Hospital, King County.
Karina pulled the car to a stop in front of the hospital and shut off the engine.
In the rearview mirror, she glanced at the back seat.
Paul lay there motionless, his face pale as paper. The bandage wrapped around his abdomen was soaked with blood.
"We're here," she said quietly. "Hang in there."
There was no response.
Paul remained unconscious.
Karina quickly got out of the car and retrieved a folding wheelchair from the hospital entrance. Returning to the vehicle, she carefully lifted Paul out and placed him into the chair.
Without wasting time, she pushed him toward the entrance.
The hospital doors stood half open.
Inside was darkness.
The moment they entered, a faint, flickering glow revealed the interior.
A long corridor stretched ahead, dimly lit by intermittent ceiling lights. Some bulbs still worked—likely powered by backup systems—while others flickered weakly, casting unstable shadows across the walls.
Karina slowed slightly.
"This place…" she murmured. "There's still electricity?"
That alone felt wrong.
The apocalypse had crippled most power grids weeks ago. Yet here, light still remained.
Backup generators? Solar systems?
She couldn't tell.
"Hello?" she called out. "Is anyone here?"
Her voice echoed through the empty halls.
No reply came.
Only the distant hum of machinery.
As they advanced, the atmosphere grew heavier.
Wards lined both sides of the corridor. Many doors hung open.
Inside—
Bodies.
Some were already decomposed beyond recognition, swarmed by flies. Others had withered into dry, skeletal remains.
Karina swallowed and continued forward.
She pushed Paul from room to room, searching quietly.
Most supplies had already been looted—likely by earlier survivors.
But not everything had been taken.
In a storage room, she found a case of ethanol.
In the pharmacy, half a box of antibiotics—nearly expired, but still usable.
Bandages. Disinfectant cotton. Whatever remained, she gathered it all.
Eventually, she returned to a relatively intact ward and set Paul down on the bed.
He was still bleeding.
If it wasn't stopped soon, he wouldn't last much longer.
Karina opened the ethanol bottle and, without hesitation, poured it directly onto his wound.
"AAAH—!!"
Paul shot upright with a violent jolt, eyes wide, face flushed crimson.
A scream echoed through the empty hospital.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" he gasped, clutching his stomach. "That's alcohol—NOT disinfectant! You're trying to kill me?!"
Karina froze for half a second.
Then she shoved the bottle into his hands.
"Then you do it."
Paul, still trembling in pain, clutched the bottle desperately.
"No—wait—I take it back—please don't abandon the patient—"
Karina exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes, but still complied with his instructions. Using cotton swabs, she carefully disinfected the wound step by step.
Paul gritted his teeth through the pain, but this time he stayed silent.
When the dressing was finally finished, he let out a long breath.
"…Thanks," he said weakly.
Karina packed the supplies.
"You owe me one."
"I owe you," he admitted with a faint, exhausted smile.
She turned toward the door to continue searching.
But then—
She stopped.
At the cafeteria entrance, an iron gate was tightly shut.
A rusted chain wrapped around the handle. A heavy lock secured it in place.
But that wasn't what caught her attention.
It was the message painted across the metal door in large, blood-red letters:
"Go to the CDC. There is a shelter there."
Karina stared at it for several seconds.
Then suddenly turned and ran back.
"Paul!"
"What now?"
"I found something!"
"A corpse?"
"No—A shelter!"
She pointed excitedly down the corridor.
"It says there's a safe zone at the CDC!"
Paul frowned immediately.
"…Is it real? Or a trap? In a world like this, anything could be bait."
Karina thought for a moment.
"We go and observe first," she said carefully. "If it's safe, we join. If not, we leave."
Paul sighed.
"We don't have many options anyway…"
After a pause, he nodded.
"…Let's go."
They packed what they could and left the hospital.
Karina pushed the wheelchair along the highway.
For a while, the road was silent.
Then—
The fuel gauge began to tremble violently.
Karina glanced down.
"Oh no."
"We're out of fuel," Paul muttered.
They pushed on for a few more minutes until—
The engine coughed.
And died.
The car rolled to a complete stop.
Karina slammed her hand against the steering wheel in frustration.
They continued on foot.
Paul sat in the wheelchair while Karina pushed him forward.
"How far?" he asked.
She glanced at a roadside sign.
"About… ten kilometers."
Silence.
Then a faint rustling sound came from behind them.
They turned.
Figures emerged at the edge of the road.
Pale skin. Torn clothes. Empty eyes.
Walkers.
"Keep moving," Paul said quietly.
Karina gritted her teeth and pushed harder.
The wheels groaned against the pavement.
Behind them, the walkers followed at a steady, unnatural pace—never too close, never falling behind.
Like predators waiting for exhaustion.
Karina's arms began to burn.
Her breathing turned uneven.
But she didn't stop.
Then—
An engine roared ahead.
A black Humvee appeared around the bend and slowed to a stop.
Relief flashed across Karina's face.
"Hey—HEY!"
The vehicle halted.
The doors opened.
Fully armed soldiers stepped out—black uniforms, tactical vests, rifles.
Exactly like the unit she had seen before.
A female soldier stepped forward.
Sandra.
She raised her weapon and fired.
Suppressor clicks echoed softly.
The walkers dropped instantly.
Headshots.
Clean.
Efficient.
Sandra lowered her rifle and approached them.
"What happened?"
Her gaze shifted to Paul's bandages.
"Bitten?"
Karina immediately shook her head.
"No! It was a scratch—car accident! I almost bled out!"
Sandra crouched, inspected briefly, then stood.
"No bite marks."
She pointed forward.
"There's a CDC shelter ahead. You'll be safe there. Medical staff will treat him."
Karina blinked.
"You're from the CDC?"
"Yes."
Sandra turned away, already walking back to the Humvee.
"We're on a mission. Move quickly, and don't attract attention."
Without another word, she got in.
The vehicle roared back to life and disappeared down the road, leaving dust behind.
Karina stood still for a moment.
Then turned to Paul.
"That… was real soldiers."
Paul exhaled slowly.
"Then the shelter might actually exist."
Karina tightened her grip on the wheelchair handles.
"Let's go."
She pushed forward again.
The final stretch began.