Chapter 3

September 16th, 2:15pm – Bryan – Downtown Pittsburgh, PA

Bryan scrubbed up to his elbows with the strong, professional-grade antibacterial soap. His nails and hands had already gotten the treatment, and he counted away the seconds until his ritual could end. He gazed at himself in the mirror’s reflection, two dark eyes peeking out between his cap and facemask. The sea foam green of his scrubs always brought out the intense brown of his eyes and skin.

Holding his arms up and in front of him, his nurse applied his gloves, rolled down his sleeves, and ensured that he was fully prepped for the surgery about to begin. He nodded a thanks to her, walking backwards into the O.R. to avoid touching the doors with his sterile hands.

As he peered down at his patient, he finished the last portion of his ritual before every surgery. He’d done hundreds of these procedures in the last 25 years at this hospital, but he never forgot who was really in charge.

Lord Jesus, he mouthed quietly to himself, as always, I thank You for every day. I thank You for my ability to help so many patients through the gift of medicine, for my extensive knowledge of the human body, for my steady hand and  for my sharp eye, all of which ease the suffering of my patients as I repair the conditions with which they have been burdened. Lord, I ask You to guide my hand today so that I may perform this procedure successfully and give my patient a more fulfilling life. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

Taking a deep breath, he commenced the procedure, the glint from his scalpel catching his eye as he lowered it to the patient’s exposed skin.

The room abruptly went dark, the silence deafening as all the machines powered down. He quickly moved his hands away from the patient’s torso before inflicting any unintentional damage. This certainly wasn’t his first blackout, nor was it the first time that he had to jerk his hands away from a surgical site—especially in instances where the anesthesia wore off earlier than expected. A few seconds passed before the generators kicked in, the machines whirring and beeping back to life as the dim lighting above showed the surprised eyes of the surgical team. They all laughed nervously for a moment while they recalibrated all of the equipment.

Soon the surgeon went about his work. No power outage was going to stop him from helping his patient.

* * *

 Two hours later, another successful procedure was completed, and Bryan was out of his scrubs and back into his office attire. He was thankful that someone had music saved on their phone and was blasting it in the hallway outside; his usual streaming internet radio app hadn’t worked, most likely due to the Wi-Fi shutting down in the outage. The internet probably wouldn’t be back up for a while; the nurses first had to ensure that patients’ equipment—respirators, ventilators, and other machinery on which they depended—was functioning properly before resetting the router. As he walked to his office, he noticed that he was still having trouble with his cell phone, but he didn’t think much of it. 

As he glanced outside to the urban streets below, he noticed that there was nearly double the expected foot traffic for this time of day, all of it going out of the city. He imagined that most of the local businesses without backup generators had probably waited an hour or so before sending their employees home; there’d be no sense in paying people to sit around in a dark office. He returned to his desk, attacking the pile of paperwork that he’d been letting build up for the week.

* * *

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been working on his charts, but his stiff muscles screamed out in pain when he finally moved. Now that his schedule was clear for the rest of his shift, he was savored the solitude of his office—the precious moments that no one asked him questions or demanded anything of him. His office was exceptionally quiet due to minimal electrical usage, the ambient humming and beeping of equipment noticeably absent. He felt totally alone with his thoughts and was finishing his charts in record time.

 A sudden knock on the door startled Bryan, and he jumped. “Come in,” he called, somewhat irritated.

 “Have you heard the news?” the nurse asked, setting an old portable radio on his desk, a 9-volt battery duct taped to the back of its faux-wood case. Judging by the remnants of previous tape applications to keep the battery in place, the cover had been lost long ago. A woman’s voice was blaring from the speaker.

 Bryan’s eyebrow rose as he studied the nurse’s worried expression. “I haven’t. Why, what’s wrong?”

“It’s about to repeat,” the nurse said. “You’re going to want to hear this.”

Bryan listened to the broadcast, repeating it a few times as the words sank in. His heart pounded as he looked to the street again, a slight gasp escaping his lips. Now that more businesses had closed for the day, the street below looked much worse: throngs of people on foot and in vehicles congested every road and sidewalk heading out of downtown Pittsburgh. Some vehicles had used the inbound lanes in an attempt to bypass the congestion, but their efforts had only resulted in motor vehicle accidents.

Bryan removed his reading glasses, lightly pinching the bridge of his nose. “Greg, all of my appointments are done for today, correct?”

 “Yes, Doctor,” he replied, frowning worriedly as he stared at the radio.

 Bryan locked all of his paperwork in his desk and retrieved an olive-colored backpack from a side drawer. “Good.” He slung his get-home-bag over his shoulders and clicked its chest strap and hip strap into place. “I’ll be leaving for the day.” I gotta get out of this city before it gets worse, he thought. I waited too long. It’s already a madhouse out there. I gotta bug out before I’m stuck here.

Patting Greg lightly on the shoulder as he passed, he rushed down the stairwell. He didn’t bother getting his car out of the garage; it would be safer there than most places, and there was no way that he’d be able to get out of the city in a vehicle.

As he exited the building, he breathed a quick prayer and stepped into the pandemonium in the streets.