Infected (8 page)

He was about twenty feet away. Rob tried to back up and stumbled over Kayla. The janitor's head whipped around and he fixated on Kayla.  She was in front of Rob, who was trying to get to his feet with the shotgun. His legs felt like iron and he couldn't quite grip the gun.  

He pulled Kayla backward and got a grip on the gun. He leveled it and fired. The buckshot turned the janitor's head to jelly. The body slumped to the ground.  He knelt down and hugged Kayla. “You okay?”

She nodded.

“I need to get the key,” Rob said.

He knelt beside the body, the smell of blood and rotten meet coming off the janitor. Rob swallowed hard, trying to hold his lunch down.  Reaching in the dead man's pocket, he found the key ring, heavy and cold. He took it out and sifted through the keys. The last one he checked was a Ford key. The van.

“We've got to go. You okay? Did I hurt you when I fell?”

“Dad, I'm tougher than that.”

“That a girl. Come on.”

When he reached the lobby, the things pounding at the glass had caused several jagged cracks to form. It wouldn't keep them out much longer.  He panicked for a moment when he didn't see the others, but then reasoned they must have gotten out of sight. He found them in one of the corridors that jutted off the lobby.

Tim looked up and saw him. “Did you find him?”

“Found him and put a new hole in his head.”

“Thought he was dead,” Tim said.

“He had different ideas. Ready to try for the basement? That glass isn't gonna hold forever,” Rob said.

He took a quick glance at the others. Ramsey looked as if he'd been smacked. Mary continued to pace, and Ryan leaned against the wall, hands in pockets.  If shit got crazy, he would trust the cop before any of the others. He couldn't see any of them holding up under pressure. Didn't know how we would do either, for that matter.

The assault on the glass continued.

They hurried across the lobby to the elevators and descended to the basement.

Rob said, “Which way to the loading dock?”

“Follow me,” Ramsey said, and walked ahead of them. “It is
my
building.”

Well excuse fucking me, Rob thought. “After you boss.”

They wound up in a large open area. On one side a concrete ramp sloped up to a roll-up door. There were a few pallets with cardboard boxes stacked on them. Next to the ramp was an office with the words
Receiving Manager
painted on the door.

“The security camera's in there,” Ramsey said.

“Is there another door out of here?” Tim asked.

“Just the big door, why?” Ramsey said.

“I'm worried they'll hear it and come for us,” Tim said.

“It's the best chance we have,” Rob said.

“Why are we wasting time?” Ryan asked. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

Rob didn't really like the kid. He tended to take twenty minute breaks when allotted ten and Rob had seen him running uncompleted paperwork through the shredder. But he had a point. “Ryan's right. We can't waste time.”

“Who's going to run for the van?” Mary asked. “Jerry's kind of slow. No offense. I'm wearing heels and a skirt.”

“Tim's got the most experience with guns. Whoever goes out there's going to need cover,” Rob said.

“And you got the other gun,” Tim said. “So that leaves you, my friend.”

Rob expected some sort of whiny protest from Ryan, but the kid said: “Game on.”

“Jerry, what's the interior of the van like?” Rob asked.

“Oh, AM/FM stereo, drink holders. Why the fuck does that matter?” Ramsey said.

“Are there bench seats, buckets, or is it an open cargo van? I'm thinking Ryan can back it up and we can hop in back. But not if there's bench seats.”

“Dude, I can figure that out. I'll have to back down the ramp either way. I'll either open the side or rear door. Just be ready.”

Tim said, “Alright ladies. Enough chatter. Jerry, right? Get on that camera.”

The back of Rob's neck began to sweat, the droplets rolling down his back. Same thing would happen before an exam in school. Same thing happened when he was waiting for Emma to walk down the aisle.  He looked down at Kayla, who was fiddling with the strings on her hoodie. He squeezed her close, and it was one of those moments where worrying to death about your kid almost outweighed the joy of having a child. Almost.

Ramsey unlocked the office door and flipped on the light. They were almost ready.

Chapter Twelve

“We should take the stairs,” Emma said. “I don't want to be caught waiting for elevator doors to open or close.”

“You're the boss.”

They found the stairwell and left the blood lab behind. She hoped they faired better on the next few floors. It couldn't get any worse than what they just saw. There hadn't been any survivors, which had been disheartening.

They swept the third floor and found a number of specialty clinics: neurology, dietetics, training rooms for birthing classes. There was also a locked business office and a cafeteria. As they approached the cafeteria, they saw light spilling under the door.

Emma stopped at the open double doors. Inside were stations for hot foods, coolers with cold drinks, and racks for chips and cookies. Two cash registers stood unmanned and she wondered if any staff left on might have evacuated. They took a walk through the food serving area and the dining room. No one was home. There was no sign of the creatures.

Her cell rang. She took it out and answered. Tim on the line.

“Army's sending a squad in by helicopter. They should be here in half-an-hour,” Tim said.

“Send them here. We've got our hands full.”

“Not doing so hot here, either Chief.”

“Explain.”

Apparently Tim, Rob, and some of Rob's co-workers were surrounded by whatever freaks were loose in town. “How many?”

“Fifty, at least.”

Did they leave the hospital? But there were sick people at home, too. Half of Parker Elementary school was home sick, teachers and parents. The things didn't necessarily escape St. Mary's. “I'll get on the horn with the state boys. Their barracks is an hour away. Not sure how much that'll help. How are Rob and Kayla?”

“Holding up. Look Chief, we're about to boogie. The front doors are all that's keeping those things out right now.”

“Keep everyone safe,” Emma said.

“Will do,” Tim said.

She was torn. Wanted to leave the hospital to go to Rob and Kayla. But they were in good hands with Tim and she had people to tend to here. Hopefully the Army would show up and be ready to kick ass.

She heard the squeal of a door opening from an upper floor and gave George a look. There came a chorus of hisses and growls. Then the sound of sniffing, like an animal testing the air. She heard someone clopping down the stairs and. A pale-skinned leg came into view. It's wearer had on a hospital gown. The woman in the gown turned her head and Emma saw her vacant white eyes. The woman was joined by six others in gowns, all shoving and pushing to get around each other.

“Back to the third floor,” Emma said.

The retreated to the floor with the blood lab and waited at the end of the corridor. Emma hoped to funnel them down the hallway and make easy targets. They took a moment to reload. While they were reloading, Emma heard the door open, which was followed by a series of grunts.  The things turned the corner, seven of them in hospital gowns. When they saw Emma and George, they broke into a run.

“Cut 'em down,” Emma said.

They brought down the first four with shotgun blasts. The others climbed over the bodies. They took down two more. The final zombie was a tall, elderly man. His stringy, white hair hung over his face, and blue veins crisscrossed his arms like a roadmap.

As he drew closer, Emma was forced to re-load again.

George fired, catching the old man in the arm. The blast ripped off his arm from the elbow down, but he kept coming.

He fired again, blowing a hole in the thing's guts. It fell to its knees and scurried forward. Five feet from Emma and she kicked it in the face, her foot sinking in with a
squish.
It fell on its face and she finished it with a trio of blows from the shotgun's stock.

She looked down at her boots, which were spattered with blood. Hopefully none of it bled through and came in contact with her skin, for there was no telling how the germ was spread. “How you holding up?”

“Feeling a little woozy.”

“You think it's from getting scratched?” Emma asked.

“Either that or it's because I just cut down seven humanoid freaks with a shotgun.”

“That's enough to make anyone sick.”

The bodies of the things lay in the hallway, blood pooling on the floors.  The hallway had taken on a smell that reminded her of unwashed feet and old meat combined. Aside from the zombies – or whatever they were – her next concern was ammunition. She had ten shells left for the shotgun and thirty rounds for her Glock. “How you fixed for ammo?”

“Six rounds left for the twelve gauge. Thirty rounds for the sidearm.”

There could be a hundred or more of these things running around and some of them took multiple shots to bring down.  But there were patients on the upper floors, one of them her mother. She could only hope they were locked up safe.  “All right. These things aren't going to kill themselves. Let's move.”

Weiss, Max, and Lori got off the elevator in the lobby. The security desk was straight ahead, and Weiss saw that blood had been splattered across the desktop. Not splattered. It looked like someone had taken a paintbrush and gone to town. “Where's the other guard?”

“Walking a nurse to the lot,” Max said. “That was the last time I saw him.”

“Hopefully he got out. I need to check on my ER. Take Lori to her car. Get her out of here,” Weiss said.

“I'm staying with you,” Lori said.

“Lori.”

“I don't want to hear it. What's next?”

Weiss said, “I need to find out if anyone's still alive in my ER.”

“I'm getting out of here. You two should do the same,” Max said.

“You're security. And we could use your gun,” Lori said.

“My life ain't worth eight bucks an hour. And I might need the gun,” Max said, and walked away.

“Coward,” Lori said, but Max either didn't hear her or was chosing to ignore the statement.

Weiss went down the hallway and pushed through the emergency room doors. The walls in the main room were smeared with blood. There were four bodies sprawled on the floor, all of them missing chunks from torsos, arms, and legs. If that weren't bad enough, a re-animated corpse dragged itself across the floor, its intestines trailing behind like blood-soaked rope. Weiss took the hammer and bashed its head until it moved no more.

“Where is everyone?” Lori asked.

“Dead or run off,” Weiss said.

He checked the main desk. The pit, as the nurses liked to call it. It was empty, as were the patient bays. His emergency room had effectively become a ghost town.

“What now?” Lori asked.

“There's two cops sweeping the building. I don't know how far they've gotten,” Weiss said.

“Mike, what the hell is it?”

“It's moving fast whatever it is. I'm guessing some crap the army cooked up. Some freak bug. We need to call for help,” Weiss said, and took out his cell.

“Not here. We'll get out. Call from outside.”

Weiss looked around, thinking Lori was right. There was no telling how many of those things were running around the hospital. They left the emergency room and reached the security desk. The main entrance was just ahead. They were almost there when two of the creatures smashed through the glass doors.

Weiss froze, gripped Lori's arm. A half dozen more of the pale-skinned things filled the doorway. Tugging on Lori's arm, he directed her back to the elevators. If they kept going, they'd reach the side entrance at the end of the hallway.

That door proved to be a dead end, as three of the zombies broke through the glass door. The things had broken out of the hospital. If they got into town – or beyond – it would be disastrous. The infection would spread and they'd be looking at a serious health crisis.

“Back upstairs. No choice,” Lori said.

They went back to the elevators and pressed the button.  The zombies from down the hallway spotted them and came for them. The doors opened and Weiss urged Lori onto the elevator. He stepped in and jammed the first button he saw. He mashed it again, as if it would make them close any faster.

As they began to shut, one of the creatures stuck its head in the elevator. The doors pinched the zombie, and it tried lunging at them. Weiss swung the hammer, cracking its cheekbone. He swung again, smashing the thing's temple. It caved in like rotten fruit. Lori joined him, shoving the zombie backwards and out of the elevator. With it gone, the doors closed.

They stopped at the second floor and the doors opened. Weiss caught the stench of blood in the air and figured the bastards had been on this floor. “We'll backtrack to the stairs. Hopefully get around them.”