Infected (5 page)

“Just rattled. I locked him in the morgue.”

From across the hall, heavy thuds continued, although this time it sounded like more than one person. A strangled female voice had joined in chorus with the fat man. Had others woken up? “Mike, there's more than one of them.”

“All right. I'll be right down. Lock yourself in your office.”

“Hell with that. I'm coming upstairs.”

“All right. Just be careful.”

She hung up and stepped into the hallway. From down the hallway, the elevator dinged. As she started toward down the hallway, someone turned the corner. It was a woman in a stained hospital gown. She saw Lori and charged.

Chapter Eight

Emma grabbed her Mossberg twelve gauge from the rack inside the patrol car. She had a second shotgun secured in a rack in the trunk. She gave that one to George, then divided the shells between them. They each had fifteen, which she hoped would be enough.

George loaded shells into the shotgun. “What's the plan?”

“We need to go floor-by-floor and search for those things. Secure patients. Lock them in if we have to until help gets here. I had Orr put in a call to the Army base up in Watertown.”

“That's hours from here.”

“We need the help. This shit's beyond us, partner,” Emma said. “Ready?”

“As I'll ever be,” George said.

Inside the emergency room was bedlam. A chorus of moans and screams filled the air. Nurses scurried back and forth, trying to tend to the now full gurneys. And against one wall were five gurneys with blood-stained sheets covering the bodies underneath. Emma wanted to talk with Doctor Weiss and found him stitching up a black woman's arm.

Emma told them of her plan to sweep the hospital floor-by-floor.

“Just the two of you?”

“I have a call in to Fort Drum up in Watertown. They started this. Let them help finish.”

Weiss tied off a suture. “I know some of the flu patients were in ICU. Fourth floor. Probably four through six is where you'd find the majority. Seven is maternity. Eight is surgery. Nine is peds.”

“All right George. Move it,” Emma said.

Lori gave a quick thought to ducking in her office and locking the door. It was made of solid wood and would hold, but would also mean she'd be trapped. Instead, she turned and ran.

The basement was basically a big square built around the elevator shafts in the center. If she could keep making right hand turns, she'd end up at the elevators.

She reached the corner, turned. Behind her, the woman's bare feet slapped the floor tile.  Ahead of her was a long corridor lined with storage rooms. If she turned right, then right again, she'd be at the elevators.

An enormous crash echoed in the basement. It was followed by snarling, gurgling yells. They had broken through the morgue door.  She nearly reached the end of the corridor when the fat, naked freak appeared. He had gone the other way, turning right at Lori's office and cutting her off from the elevators. She heard the woman approaching from behind and looked around. There was a supply closet to her left and she tried the handle. It gave and she slipped inside. There was a desk and some office chairs against one wall. There was a door at the rear of the room.

She shoved the desk in front of the door and piled the chairs on top. Then she dialed Mike's cell and prayed for him to pick up. He answered. “Mike, I'm trapped in the basement.”

“Whoa. How?”

“I'm in a closet. Those things are after me.”

“Okay. Where?”

“Make a right out of my office, then another right. There's a supply closet about halfway down the hall. I'm in there.”

“On my way. Hold tight.”

She backed away from the door and looked around. Metal shelving lined one wall and she noticed a red tool box. There might be something she could use for a weapon in there.

Something slammed against the door, and the barricade rattled but didn't budge. She opened the tool box and found a claw hammer and a screwdriver. Not much, but better than no weapons at all. She took them out.

The door rattled again, this time shoving the desk backwards. The door was open about a foot and the fat one stuck his head inside. This was her opportunity. Lori drove the screwdriver into its right eye, the eyeball turning to black jelly. She drove it in further, hoping to hit the brain. Then she twisted and the freak hissed at her. She gave the screwdriver one final thrust, burying it to the handle. The fat bastard finally pulled its head back and Lori slammed the door shut.

The door shook again as they threw themselves against it. The desk moved back again. Lori eyed the other door. It was her only option. Now the woman stuck her head through an opening in the door. Lori swung the hammer. It caved in the top of the woman's head, squishing like a rotten watermelon.  Lori yanked the hammer free and swung again, hitting her in the temple.

The woman pulled back.

A pale hand shot through the opening and Lori tried to shove the desk against the door. The door squished the creature's hand and it grunted in pain.

She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up.

Tim arrived on eight and went to suite eight-ten. He walked through the reception area and into the offices, where he saw a man of about thirty-five and a blond-haired little girl sitting on one of the desks. The man, seeing him, stood up.

“Evening,” Tim said.

“Glad to see you.”

“What happened?”

He had to take good care of the Chief's husband and daughter.  Rob told Tim how the girl went down to the cafeteria to get a snack and was chased by a man in coveralls. Someone named Carl. The girl had stabbed him.

“And she ran up here?”

“That's right.”

“Here's what I'm going to do. I'll walk you two downstairs to wait with the rest of the group. Safer that way. I'll sweep the building and look for this Carl guy. Sound good?”

“That's the way you do it, fine by me,” Rob said.

Tim escorted them to the lobby and was surprised when he found the rest of the group still there. He ordered them to stay put and went back to the elevator. The girl had seen the man near the cafeteria, so he'd start there.

The elevator stopped at seven and he stepped out, unstrapping his holster. He saw a sign on the wall with an arrow pointing to the cafeteria. He followed it, the hairs on his neck standing at attention.

The cafeteria doors were straight ahead, and he drew his Glock. He eased the doors open and saw the upended tables and chairs. He moved through the cafeteria to the serving line area, then wound around that to the kitchen doors. Going inside, he flipped on the lights.

Inside were three rows of stainless steel counters. Large commercial ovens lined the walls, and pots and pans hung from racks on the ceiling.

He found the storage room, the door wide open. A trail of blood led from the door, the result of the girl stabbing Carl. He hadn't noticed the trail on the way in, but he tracked it back to the cafeteria and out the door. It led to the stairwell. How the hell had he missed it on the way in?

After easing the stairwell door open, he stepped onto the landing and saw the dots of blood continuing down the steps. From below, he heard someone chattering to themselves.

“Police! Show yourself!”

Heavy footsteps slapped the stairs and Tim crouched in a shooter's stance. He saw the man in the blue coveralls round the corner and bound up the steps. His eyes were mad with rage, and he wasn't stopping.

Tim squeezed off a round, catching the man in the leg. It barely slowed him down. The man – Carl – dragged himself up the stairs. Drool dripped from his mouth.
What the hell was he?
 

Tim reached that moment every cop dreads: deciding whether or not to use deadly force. The gunshot to the leg hadn't slowed him.

He squeezed the trigger. The shot caught Carl in the head and he tumbled down the stairs, smacking his noggin against the wall. Blood leaked out of him. He wasn't moving. Tim crept down the stairs, Glock ready. He stopped three feet short, looked for signs of life. The guy wasn't breathing. He'd given it up.

This time, he raised the Chief on the radio clipped to his uniform shirt.

“What's up Tim?”

He gave her a shortened version of what just happened.

“I've got at least four or five like that at the hospital. Me and George are going through trying to get people out of here. Get the civilians out of the building and get over here. We need the help. Are Rob and Kayla okay?”

“They're fine. I have them all waiting down in the lobby. What about the shooting?”

“What about it?” Ross said.

“I had no choice.”

“This isn't a normal night. I trust you did the right thing. Now get your ass over here.”

Tim signed off. His gut churned and he started to shake from the adrenaline surging through him. He left the stairwell and headed for the elevators, determined to put on his best cop face for the civvies.

Rob sat next to Kayla on a bench in the lobby, his arm around her. Ryan leaned against the wall and Mary paced back and forth, her heels clicking on the marble. Ramsey was busy doing something on his iPhone. Probably something vital like playing
Angry Birds
. Rob had showed it to him last month and the old man had gotten hooked.

Rob thought he'd heard a gunshot from up above, but the others hadn't seemed to notice it.

“Will the police find him Dad?” Kayla asked.

“I bet they will.”

“Will he get arrested?”

“Probably.”

“I didn't mean to hurt him.”

“You did what you had to do. You're not in trouble,” Rob said.

“I hope I didn't hurt him too bad.”

Rob kissed the top of her head. She was a sweet kid, always thinking of others, no matter what the circumstances. “I'm sure he'll be fine.”

Mary, still pacing back and forth, said: “Where's that cop? I'm getting out of here.”

Ryan said, “He said to stick around.”

“I'm leaving. You coming?” Mary said, giving Ryan a hard look.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.”

She took the lead, ass swinging like a pendulum. Ryan followed behind. Rob noticed him admiring the goods as he walked. The two of them left the building. The glass doors gave a hollow bang as they slammed in the near-empty building.

Rob heard the elevator ding and a moment later the cop appeared. He looked a little pale, which Rob figured wasn't a good sign.

“Well?” Rob asked.

“I found him. He attacked me. Had to shoot him.”

Ramsey looked up from his iPhone. “Carl? You shot my maintenance guy?”

“Sir, something had happened to him. His appearance changed. Not sure what.”

“You couldn't have subdued him?”

“Wasn't an option, I'm afraid. I'll need you all to leave the building. I have to help Chief Ross over at Saint Mary's.”

Rob said, “What's going on at Saint Mary's?”

“They've had some security issues. Now if you can please leave. I have to go.”

Security Issues. Rob reached in his pocket and gripped his cell phone. Then he let it go. If he called Emma it would seem like he was mothering her. She could handle whatever was happening at Saint Mary's. “What do you say we go home and pop that popcorn?”

“Extra butter?”

“Extra butter.”

“Cut it out. Trying to drive,” Ryan said.

He swatted Mary's hand away from his crotch. His lips were all twisted up and he was frowning. He looked pretty damned cute when he was flustered. She giggled and said, “Suit yourself.”

Ryan pulled up the Nissan up to the driveway that emptied onto Maple Avenue. The street was deserted. Across from the Ramsey's parking lot was a weeded lot. There'd been an auto shop or something that had burned to the ground.  A few charred bricks from the foundation were scattered in the weeds.

There was something else odd in the field. A dozen people crossing the field, some shambling. Others stumbling as they walked. “Look at that,” Mary said.

“Who are they?”

“Fuck if I know. Just go.”

Ryan turned left, going towards downtown and headed in the direction of the hospital. Mary had her purse on her lap and was fishing for her new cherry currant lipstick. She wanted to put it on in front of Ryan, get him hot and lathered. He slammed on the brakes and her purse flew off her lap. “What are you doing?”

“Look.”

There were a couple dozen people across the road, moving toward them. One of them pointed at the car and broke into a run. The others followed, until there was a gang of them charging towards the car.

Something slammed into the side of the car and Mary flinched. She looked at the passenger window to see a freakish man with white eyes staring in at her. Drool poured from his mouth and he started pounding on the window. “Go!”