Infected (14 page)

The man opened his eyes. “They gone?”

“Are who gone?” Mike said.

“The zombies, who else?”

“What happened to you?”

The guy tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but thought better of it and lay back down. “They chased me. A big group of them. Fifty or sixty. I tripped, whacked my noggin on the statue. I've been playing dead ever since.”

“They were chasing you, where'd they go?”

“They poked around at me a little and I thought I was going to get ripped apart. Then they left.”

Mike said, “What's your name?”

“Frank.”

“I'd say you're the luckiest son of a bitch in town Frank. I'm Mike Weiss. I'm an ER doctor at St. Mary's. Normally I'd patch you up first and then get you in the ambulance, but we shouldn't linger.”

“You got your own ambulance?”

“It's a long story. Let's get you up.”

Mike helped Frank to his feet, and he wobbled a bit, but Mike steadied him, gripping his elbow and keeping an arm around his waist. He got him into the back of the ambulance and had him sit on the bench.

“You dizzy? Any double vision?”

“Naw.”

Mike asked him a series of questions. He seemed fairly lucid and it didn't seem like he had a concussion. Just a nasty whack on the head.

“Ready to roll?” Lori said.

“That's my wife, Lori. I'll bandage you up while we drive.”

“Fair enough,” Frank said.

Lori started the rig up and pulled down the road. Frank located the disinfectant and bandages. Patched Frank up while they drove.

The streets were quiet, and Weiss would've thought people would be crowding the roads to get out of town. Which meant one of two things: they were zombies, or they were dead. The prospect of the entire town being turned into the things that ripped apart his hospital scared him shitless.

They passed the Whistle Stop Cafe, a place that served average soup and sandwiches at gourmet prices. There was a wide alley after the Cafe, and as they passed it, Mike saw the first few zombies. They poured from the alley like maggots from a dead man's mouth, Mike watching them out the rear ambulance doors. “Lori, speed up.”

“What is it?”

“I think we found the wandering horde of freaks. And they're gaining on us.”

He glanced at Lori. She looked in the rear view mirror and the ambulance lurched forward as she put the hammer down.

They drove out of town, the buildings giving way to the occasional farm. Weiss hadn't been able to see the speedometer, but he guessed Lori had the ambulance going somewhere around eighty. When she finally slowed down, they were a mile or so from the business district.

A large gray farmhouse stood at the side of the road.

“We should warn them,” Lori said.

“Or we could keep going.”

“It's the right thing to do Mike. What if they don't know?”

“They could be turned into freaks for all we know. We have to be careful.”

Lori slowed and pulled up the long driveway. The house's front windows were dark, which Weiss figured wasn't a good sign. Hopefully someone was home.

Sam locked the back door and joined Trudy in the kitchen, where she was brewing a pot of coffee. Normally he didn't touch the stuff after eight o'clock. The acid fire in his stomach and the jittery legs weren't worth it. But he didn't imagine he'd be sleeping much tonight, so when Trudy had suggested coffee, he'd said okay.

He dimmed the lights in the kitchen. Didn't know why, but it made him feel less exposed. As the rich scent of French roast filled the kitchen, he stood up.

Trudy stood at the counter, hands on the edge, as if using it for support. She stared at the coffee dripping into the carafe. He knew what she was thinking without asking. That horse was one of her true loves.

“You already locked the doors,” Trudy said.

“I was just stretching.”

“You were going to go check the doors again. I know you,” Trudy said.

“So sue me.”

“You're just looking out for us,” she said, looking at him. “Guess you're good for a few things.”

“That, and a roll in the hay once in a while.”

“Dirty old man,” she said.

They'd dragged the thing Sam had shot outside the stable. Trudy hadn't wanted it soiling Gracey's resting place, so Sam had thrown an old green tarp over it. A call to the Sheriff's office had gotten him nowhere. They'd promised to send someone out as soon as possible. Seems they were running ragged tonight.

The coffee maker started gurgling, indicating the pot was done. Trudy poured their coffees – both black – and sat down at the kitchen table.  

“What was that? In the barn?” Trudy asked.

“If I knew I'd be a wise man.”

“It wasn't a person. Did you see its eyes?” Trudy said, sipping her coffee.

“What kind of man does that to a horse? Has the strength to do that?” Sam asked.

“You going to sit down?” Trudy asked.

“In a sec,” he said, and took a sip of coffee. He set the cup down and went to the back door. Looking out the door, he saw the barn and stable, and beyond that, the fields. Two hundred acres, left to him by his father. He sighed. Every year his back got a little stiffer, his knees ached a little more. Tending two hundred acres – even with hired help – seemed like two thousand. Maybe it was time to sell the place and find a nice little cabin up in the hills.

He noticed movement in the woods that bordered his corn field. The branches swished and twitched. A chill ran up his back and he thought he was being paranoid after what just happened. It was probably deer. The same bastards that raided his fields every year. But what if it wasn't deer?

“Coffee's going to get cold,” Trudy called, from the kitchen.

“Coming,” he said, and went back. Joined her at the table.

“What is it?”

“Movement in the woods at the edge of the field,” he said, taking a sip of the black coffee. It scorched his tongue a little. Trudy's version of cold coffee was anything less than two hundred degrees.

“Deer back?”

“Hope that's all it is.”

“You don't thing there's more of them?”

Sam could only shrug.

“Hear that?” Trudy said.

“What?”

“I think someone just pulled up the driveway.”

“Maybe it's the cops. I'll have a look.”

Sam went to the front window and peered out. To his surprise, there was a boxy, red and white ambulance parked in his driveway.

“Hey,” the old man said to Weiss.

“Is everyone there okay?” Weiss asked.

“Just me and my wife. And we're right as rain. Mostly.”

“There's trouble in town. Have you heard?”

“I was sawing wood. Then I went out and found something gnawing on my horse. Shot it dead.”

He came down the steps, the shotgun crooked under his arm. He wore a loose pair of jeans that seemed to hang on his bony hips. A flannel shirt and Muck boots rounded out his outfit.

“What was it?”

“Looked like something from a horror movie. I'll show it to you.”

“I believe you,” Weiss said.

Lori said, “The hospital was overrun by them. There's more of them in town.”

“Well I guess we got ourselves a problem,” the farmer said. “Think there's something moving in the woods by my fields.”

Frank stumbled out of the ambulance, the bloodied bandage around his head. The farmer regarded him with a mild gaze and said, “We have hot coffee inside. I could scare some food from the fridge for you. Your friend looks like he's had better days.”

“I'm gonna be fine,” Frank said. “Gonna beat a trail.”

“If that's fine I don't want to see bad,” the farmer said. “I'm Sam. My wife Trudy's in the house. Come in if you want. Wouldn't recommend staying out here.”

Frank went down the driveway and turned on the road. He was dooming himself, but Mike had a wife to think about.

Mike gave Lori a look that said
What do you think,
and she nodded. They closed up the ambulance and climbed the steps. Then they followed Sam into the kitchen, which was decorated with lemon yellow wallpaper. Strawberries dotted the wallpaper in diagonal rows. The kitchen smelled of good, strong coffee and Weiss thought he would gladly sell his own mother for a cup right about now.

Sam introduced them to Trudy, who was dressed as if she'd just gone out to muck stables. Her long brown hair was pulled into a bun and her eyes were red-rimmed. Mike and Lori introduced themselves.  Trudy put some more coffee on and took a boxed danish from the fridge.

“You dress funny for paramedics,” Sam said.

“We're doctors.”

“Well doc, I want to show you what's out back. Let's take a walk,” Sam said. He grabbed the shotgun and a flashlight that was sitting on the counter.

“Be right back,” Weiss said.

They walked through he house, the scent of cinnamon hanging in the air. Sam led him outside to a stable. As he opened the door, a rank smell floated out. It reminded Weiss of a zoo animal mixed with the metallic stink of blood.

Inside, the dead horse lay on its side, a huge chunk of flesh ripped from its neck. He didn't know much about horses, but imagined it was a beautiful animal in life. Its mane was a shiny black, and its chestnut coat glistened.  “Just one of them did this?”

“Caught it gnawing on him. Ran it through with a pitchfork.”

“Where is it?”

“I”ll show you.”

They left the stable and went around back, where a pile of manure gave off a rank, earthy smell. Next to the pile was a green tarp. Mike knelt and pulled the tarp away, revealing the body of a middle-aged man in a Yankees tee shirt. Looked like he might be going to a ball game, save for the holes in his head.

“You say the hospital's overrun?”

“In the hundreds.”

Weiss gave him the shorthand version of the first infected person being brought in, then the outbreak and attack in the hospital.

“You're a doctor. What is it?”

“This is beyond me. We're lucky to be alive.”
 

“I would say so.”

Weiss caught a flash of movement on the far side of the cornfield. Something moving in the woods that skirted the fields, the bushes and trees rustling. Weiss could see them now, wandering out of the woods and into the field. Coming towards the farmhouse. There were ten or so, then twenty. Thirty.

“Looks like their coming this way,” Weiss said.

“Best get inside.”

“If they didn't see us, maybe they'll leave the house alone,” Weiss said.

They got back in the house, Sam telling Trudy to douse the kitchen light and. He and Weiss went around and drew the blinds and curtains.

“Mike,” Lori said. “What's going on?”

“A bunch of them. By the woods and headed this way. We need to be quiet and hope they bypass the house.”

“The ambulance. We should try for it,” Lori said.

“They'll cut us off. Too many of them. We sit tight.”

Sam said, “Quit yapping and get down. Away from the windows.”

Weiss put his arm around Lori and they sat on the kitchen floor. Sam and Trudy sat at the table. All they could do was wait.

Chapter Nineteen

Rob circled the building again, drumming the steering wheel and still seeing no sign of Kayla. He was in panic mode, worse than the time she'd slipped away from him at the Galleria Mall. After alerting security and nearly puking from worry, he'd found her in the Build-A-Bear store across the mall. Grounding had ensued. After he'd hugged her hard enough to take her breath away.

His phone jingled and he answered.

“Rob, we're on the elevator.”

“Okay boss,” he said to Ramsey. “I'll be out front.”

He hung up with Ramsey and called Emma. She picked up on the fifth ring.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” Rob asked.

“The hospital's overrun with
things.
The living dead. I can't explain it.”

“They're here too,” Rob said.

“I got out. Where are you?”

Rob told her his location. “There's something else.”

Silence on the other end.

“Kayla's missing,” Rob said.

He heard Emma take a deep breath on the other end, maybe stealing herself for bad news. “How Rob? How is that possible?”

Rob explained how he'd taken her to the basement and Kayla running from him. Then climbing out of the subbasement and escaping the zombie.

She blew out a stream of air. “I'm headed over. Stay put.”

“The others are on their way out of the building. I'm going to grab them,” Rob said.

“And you can't wait around for your daughter?” Emma said.

“That's not fair. You know I wouldn't abandon her.”