Let Him In

You reach over and unlock the passenger side door. The officer opens it and climbs in. "Thanks, buddy, I guess I owe you one. What the hell is going on?" "Some kind of viral outbreak," you say. "Very contagious." The officer's eyes widen. "Like the one, they were talking about on TV? You mean it's real?" You gun it, peeling out into the street. "What's it look like to you?" The officer looks you over. "Hey, you're no EMT. What are you doing driving an ambulance?" You tell the officer how your situation came about...your honeymoon...your new wife's infection...your escape from the hotel...the encounter with Eva...the outbreak at the hospital.

The officer whistles. "So the officers who were dispatched to the hotel..." "Most likely infected," you say. "And if anybody was able to get a victim back to your station, then the station is probably a hotspot now. I'm going to the airport to try and catch a flight back to the mainland." "What if you can't get a flight? If there's really an outbreak like this, I bet the airport is jammed up." _"Then I'll try to charter a boat to the Virgin Islands. If that falls through, then...well..." _You don't say it, but it crosses your mind that if you fall victim to the infection, you'll at least end up enjoying it. "Virgin Islands, huh? Be an irony if this infection was there too, huh?" The officer reaches for the bag with the tainted underwear. "Hey, what's in the bag?"

You slap his hand away. "You don't want to touch that. Biohazard mean anything to you?" It takes a second, but the officer's eyes widen in recognition and he falls silent. "I'm Brad, by the way." "Officer Rodriguez. But I guess you can call me Emilio." Traffic slows as you approach a red light. Emilio speaks up: "Hey, I've got a friend who owns a seaplane. He runs chartered flights out to St. Thomas, St. Croix, St. Kitts...he could get us a flight out. I'll give him a call." "Works for me," you say. "My passport's back at the hotel, but I guess we could tell any authorities that we're seeking asylum." Emilio pulls out his cell phone and dials.

While he's waiting for his friend to answer, he motions to a switch on the dash. "Don't wait at this light, man. It's an ambulance!" You flip the switch, and the vehicle's lights and sirens cut on. You drive into the oncoming lane and drive toward the intersection. Cars crossing slow to allow your passage, except for a black sedan that is speeding in one hell of a hurry to get somewhere. It clips the rear of the ambulance, sending spinning you. You slam the brakes and bring the ambulance to a stop, and the sedan swerves wildly, smashing into a pole.

You and Emilio swear and take a breath, giving your hearts a minute to slow down. The driver's side door of the sedan creaks open, and a Hispanic woman staggers out. She's in her early thirties, dressed in slacks and a blouse. Her nose is bloodied from the airbag and she is clearly dazed, but she stumbles toward the ambulance with purpose. You step out of the vehicle and approach her. You're relieved for a couple of reasons--the woman seems ok, and, judging from her unremarkable build, she's not infected. However, the feeling sinks to the pit of your stomach as she pulls a handgun on you. "You're giving me a ride now, asshole."