Werewolf Suspense (Book 4): Outage 4 (The Reckoning) (7 page)

He lowered the bed, staring out the broken windowpane. The wounded creature flopped in the snow, then went still.

They pushed the bed away. The beast might be dead. But the open door across the room, and the carcass at the entrance, were proof they were still in danger.

Tom studied the little boy crouched in the elevator car. Although Silas was breathing heavily, he appeared unharmed. He kept hold of the knife as Tom knelt down beside him.

"Are you all right, Silas?" Tom asked.
 

Silas nodded, but his eyes reflected the carnage he'd seen. Thank God he hadn't been killed. Tom glanced over his shoulder, observing the empty, carnage-strewn corridor. They needed to get out of here.

"Let's get up to the third floor," he said. "Back to your sister."

Tom glanced back at the elevator doors, which were blocked by the laundry bin. He peered over the edge to check on the injured woman. But the woman was no longer looking back at him.

Her eyes had gone vacant; her mouth was agape. Her hands had fallen off the towel, revealing a bloodied mess beneath. It didn't appear she was breathing.

Tom yanked the bin toward the elevator.

"Watch out, Silas! Make room! We have to get her upstairs!"

Silas scuttled into the corner. Tom fought with the laundry bin, turning it sideways to maneuver it inside. He needed to get the woman to the nurses. They might be able to do something, where he had failed.

Silas let out a startled cry, snapping him to attention. A beast charged down the corridor, feet smacking the bloodstained floor. It was a hundred yards away.

"Shit!"

Tom rotated the bin, pressing his back against the elevator. Silas scooted with him. The elevator doors remained open.
Dammit! What's going on?
Tom watched in terror as the beast advanced.
The bin must be blocking the sensor.
He yanked furiously, trying to reposition it.

"Silas! Hit the button! Close the doors!"

The little boy cried out and jabbed the buttons. Tom's heart galloped as the creature closed the distance. It splayed its fingers in anticipation of clawing, tearing,
eating
.
Several buttons lit up before Silas pressed the right one.

The doors whirred closed. Sensing its waning opportunity, the beast hurtled the remaining steps and dove. The doors had almost shut when a claw jutted through the opening.
 

The doors retracted.
 

The beast snarled.
 

Tom fought with the creature on the other side of the bin as Silas screamed. The beast thrashed wildly as it tried to get inside the elevator car. Tom still had the axe in his hands, but in order to swing it, he'd have to let go of the bin, exposing them to attack. The dead woman's body slid back and forth, trapped in a bitter game of tug-of-war. But the beast had no interest in her.
 

Its eyes were on Tom and Silas.
 

Finally, Tom shoved the laundry bin, hurling the creature back into the hallway. The creature lashed out, spearing the side of the bin. The bin rolled. Tom let it go. He looked over as Silas frantically pressed the button.
 

The elevator hummed.

The doors whooshed closed.
 

Suddenly the motor was churning and the elevator was rising, carrying them away from the blood-ridden floor. Silas clung to Tom's legs, sobbing. Tom held the boy close as he listened to the pulse of the elevator, thanking God for their good luck.

When Silas had settled down, Tom asked, "Are you all right?"

Silas looked up at him with wide, shameful eyes. "I didn't mean to come down here. I made a mistake."

"It's all right," Tom said, hugging the boy. Any scolding the boy deserved was overshadowed by what they'd both been through.

Without prompting, Silas continued to explain. "I wanted a snack from the machine, but everyone was busy. I saw the policeman going in the elevator. I thought it'd be okay."

"I understand. Did you try to go back upstairs?"

"I did, but the elevator was gone already."

Tom nodded. He and Abraham must've called the elevator shortly after Silas got off. None of the details mattered. What mattered was that Silas was safe.

Tom watched the orange display on top of the elevator. In the panic of the moment, Silas had accidentally hit the button for the second floor. They'd be making a stop before they reached third.
 

Watching the numbers change, Tom asked, "Where'd you get the knife?"

Silas looked up at him, his blue eyes clouded with fear. "I found it on the floor when I was hiding in that room like you told me. Then I heard all that noise. I got scared and ran back to the elevator."

"That was smart." Silas's instincts had probably saved his life. If he'd been roaming the halls, the beasts would've found him.
 

"I miss my mommy and daddy," Silas whimpered.

Tom studied him for a moment. "It'll be all right, Silas."

The ding of the elevator interrupted his thoughts.
 

"Stay quiet," Tom hissed. He pushed Silas behind him, raising his axe as the elevator ground to a halt. The doors creaked open.
 

Tom envisioned the same scene from the ground floor: the beast hovering next to the laundry bin, feasting on the dead woman. The prospect was logistically impossible. But that didn't stop his thoughts from running.

He felt awful about the woman. He'd probably never had a chance at saving her.

Tom swallowed his guilt as the elevator doors revealed the dark hallway in front of them. The only lights were from the elevator car. In the dim glow, he saw mangled body parts, pieces of hospital equipment.
 

Waiting for the doors to close, Tom recalled the dead police officers outside. Were their weapons still in the snow? The thought of retrieving them was tempting.
 

If he could make another stop on the first floor, race to the lobby…

Looking at Silas's frail form in the elevator car, he decided against it. If something happened to him, Silas would be left alone. Tom couldn't risk leaving him. It was too dangerous. The beasts had already invaded the building.

He just hoped they hadn't made it to the third floor.

Abraham stared across the hospital room at the gaping, broken-down doorway. Footsteps and screams punctuated the air. A door slammed shut from the end of the hall, cutting off a stream of frightened voices. Abraham watched a woman in a hospital gown dart down the hallway. She briefly met his eyes as she ran. There was no sign of the nurses. The third floor had become a free-for-all of fleeing, terrified survivors, left to fend for themselves.
 

And Abraham, Sally, and Katherine were in the same predicament.

Abraham crossed the room, intending to peer out into the hallway. Sally gave him a look of warning.

"I need to see if Tom and Silas are out there. Then I'll shut the door."

Sally nodded, but the expression of dread remained on her face. Abraham reached the threshold, his eyes cutting over the dead man at the door, holding back his sickness. The remainder of the hallway was splashed with blood. Several unmoving bodies lay on the floor—a man with a hole in his back, a woman with her arms torn off. Screams erupted from distant rooms, but the elevator doors were closed. No sign of Tom or Silas.
 

No sign of any beasts, either.
 

Yet.

Before they could be spotted, Abraham shut the door. The hinges were weak from the door's being kicked in, but he was able to push it in place. He cast a sideways glance at the broken chair, discerning that it was no longer useful. He darted back over to the bed.
 

"Let's move the bed in front of the door," he told Sally.

They rolled it across the room, tilting it on its side, creating a barricade. When they were finished, Abraham struggled for breath. His back was sore. Years of manual labor at the sand and gravel company hadn't prepared him for
this
.

"Are you all right?" Sally asked.

"I'll be all right, sweetie," Abraham reassured her. Her concern was a reminder of normalcy in a world that had turned upside down. All the sudden, the hallway fell quiet. Abraham clung to Sally as they waited and listened.

Katherine opened the cabinet door, poking her head out. She watched Abraham and Sally with a hopeful look that said the nightmare might be over. Abraham hoped for the same, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe it.

"Do you think they're gone?" Katherine whispered.

"No," Abraham answered. "We'll have to defend ourselves."

"I wish the police would come."

"I do, too. But I doubt they'll be able to get to us," Abraham said, picturing the policeman being tackled out in the snow. "We'll have to depend on each other."

His thoughts wandered to the school bus. What had happened to the occupants? Hearing nothing in the hallway, he let go of Sally, walked to the window, and surveyed the parking lot. The beast that had fallen out the window was covered in a layer of snow.
 

It serves the thing goddamn right.

Cold whipped through the broken pane. For a moment, Abraham envisioned another beast scaling the side of the hospital, clawing its way in from the storm. He was pretty sure the things weren't that agile, but that didn't stop him from worrying about it.

That thought naturally led to another.
Should
they get out of here? Tie blankets together, maybe create a bridge to the parking lot? Abraham dismissed the idea. The plan was as silly as it was dangerous. They didn't have enough blankets. And besides, he and Sally were in their mid-sixties. Although they were in decent shape, Abraham knew they couldn't attempt a stunt like that.

It was safer in the building.
 

At least, he convinced himself it was.

Abraham searched every inch of the room. Other than the screwdriver in his hand, as well as the scalpel and scissors Sally had, there was nothing else that might help them. The room was bare except for a pitcher of water, some spare blankets, and some medical supplies—nothing that could be used as a weapon. A pink, plastic container on the wall labeled "sharps container" caught his attention.

Needles
. Probably used for vaccinations or medicines. He didn't want to touch anything in there. The thought of digging through a pile of used needles was hardly appealing or worth the risk.

Noticing that Katherine and Sally were shivering, he said, "We should head over by the radiators. At least stay warm."

They headed over to the window, and Abraham swallowed as a long howl erupted from somewhere deep in the hallways. They'd only had a few minutes of peace, and already the silence had broken.

Abraham sat on his haunches, hovering next to Sally and Katherine.

He traded a glance with his wife, their expressions taking the place of conversation. If they'd been alone, they would've traded final words.
 

Abraham already knew what he'd say.
 

Forty years ago, I married my best friend and the love of my life. I've never once regretted that decision.

But saying those words would scare Katherine. And whether this was the end or not, Abraham wanted to spare the little girl as much fright as he could.

His thoughts roamed to Olivia. Saying goodbye to her and the grandchildren had been one of the hardest things Abraham had ever had to do. He considered himself a strong man, but he'd been unable to suppress his tears the day they left for London.
 

Abraham's eyes welled at the thought of never seeing them again, at the thought of losing Sally. Wiping his face, he took hold of his wife's hand and squeezed.

He was still thinking of his family when he heard a faint rattle at the door. He jolted upright, digging his fingers against Sally's. He exchanged a glance with his wife again, but this time he didn't want to think about what that glance meant.

"What was that?" Silas asked, creeping around from the back of Tom.

Tom heard it, too. As the elevator car mounted the third floor, commotion reached their ears from outside the elevator. Screams segued into shrieks; bangs and crashes filled the air. The pit in Tom's stomach grew. He'd hoped the third floor would provide a refuge from the madness.
 

By the sounds of it, things were even worse up there.

He had the fleeting thought that he should stop the elevator, mash the red emergency button and wait the whole thing out. But he couldn't leave Abraham, Sally, and Katherine. He pictured the nurses—Kelsey, Tabatha, and Sigrid—corralling scared patients and keeping them safe. No one had enforced the nurses' responsibility. And yet, they'd put themselves in danger to help others.

Their bravery was inspiring.

Silas clung to Tom's hospital gown as the elevator car swayed ominously. Tom stared at the door, axe in hand. He envisioned the path he'd need to take to get to Abraham and Sally's room.