The Real Night of the Living Dead (3 page)

The door opened, and the guard entered with Melvin behind him. The guard was pretty confident of the whole situation. He approached the bed, pulled his baton from his belt and whacked the screaming man a few times.

The hits didn’t faze him. “Let him go,” the guard said to me. I did. The guard positioned himself, ready to attack with his baton. As I stood back, I stole a quick glance of the other patients; I noticed
a few of them were moaning, others were lifeless
. My eyes went back to the first patient. He stood and moved toward the closest person to him, the guard.

“Come on, you crazy son of a bitch. I got some medication right here for
ya
.” The patient charged with his arms stretched out toward the guard. Guard was ready. His arm pulled back and shot forward, cracking the patient on the head. He dropped to the tiled floor, a puddle of blood beginning to form now where his head lay.

The guard stood over him, grabbed the handcuffs from his belt and slapped them over the patient’s wrists behind his back. The patient was still conscious. I couldn’t believe it. He took a few hard blows to the head, but here he was, trying to get on his feet again.

The guard didn’t look too thrilled. I could tell he was pissed.
This patient trying to do his best to make this guard earn his worthless paycheck.
I was sure along the way to N-9 the guard would take a little detour and teach this loony tune a thing or two about respecting his authority. He said as he stood, his chest heaving, “What’d they do to
ya
? You got some good stuff pumped in your veins, eh?”

“Just get him out of here, please,” said Doctor
Oksenberg
.

The guard gazed at the frightened doctor,
then
turned to Melvin, who was standing near the door, and said to him, “Why don’t ‘cha do something useful. Grab a mop and clean this mess up.” Melvin didn’t say a word and didn’t move. The guard’s attention went back to the patient.

The patient was trying to stand, but with his hands bound he was having a difficult time. He was struggling to push himself up with his head. That’s when the guard grabbed him by his dirty old plaid shirt and lifted him to his feet. A line of blood was hanging from the corner of his mouth, down to his chin, and onto his shirt. His yellow eyes were on the guard, and he was anxious to break free from the cuffs. I could already see that his wrists were beginning to bleed.

We all watched as the guard struggled with the patient to get him out of the room. He started by poking him in the chest with his baton, but the enraged man kept charging. So he began pummeling him with the baton, on his face, his arms,
his
ribs. We watched. All of us in shock to see a man take such a beating and still keep coming. By now, his face was covered in blood, but he could care less. The only progress the hits were making was every time one landed it pushed him back a few inches.

After another minute or so of the guard beating him, we watched as they took their show outside the room. Melvin slammed the door behind them. None of us noticed the next five patients who were waking up now, staring with stale yellow eyes.

Chapter Three

Doctor Haas was with the nurse now, about to inject the last patient.

I was with
Oksenberg
who was standing between the beds of the second and third patients. He was doing his observations, and I was cautious. I wasn’t trying to have one of these guys attack me like the last one.

Melvin was still working up the courage to get near the rest of them. He was about five feet behind me. If you ask
me, that
was the smart thing to do: stay away.

For a brief moment, I heard a man’s scream from somewhere in the building. Wasn’t sure if anyone else heard what I did, but I ignored it and continued staring at these patients. It wasn’t unusual for screams to fill the hallways throughout the day in this hospital. It was quite common.

I saw now that a few of the patients who were first injected were now moving on their beds. It was a weird sort of movement, like they weren’t sure how to use the arms and legs. They were all pale too and had the same yellowish tint to the whites of their eyes.

I stepped back, beside my friend. I whispered, “This medicine’s supposed to help people? They look like they got the Bubonic plague or something.”

Melvin said, “Yeah, I’m with you. I don’t like this. Don’t like how I’m feeling right about now. Think I’d rather work with the nuts in N-9. At least then I know what to expect.”

Then something happened. Blood began to pour out of the third patient’s mouth.
Oksenberg
called for his colleague. Haas and the nurse rushed over.
Me
and Melvin followed.

We watched him, wondering where the blood from his mouth had originated. Then we witnessed a very gory sight. The pale man began to chew. Taking big chews with his mouth open, we saw that he had bitten off his own tongue and was eating it.

Melvin couldn’t hold it; he threw up all over the bed.

Doctor
Oksenberg
said, “Jesus Christ. We’re going to isolate the subjects for the time being. Nurse, bring the vials.” He turned to Haas with widened eyes. “We should leave for now. Lock this door, and we can observe through the window.”

“I think you’re jumping to conclusions, Doctor
Oksenberg
,” said Haas. “We should remain here. This study is extremely important.”

The nurse came back, pushing the cart with the vials of the vaccine. I saw as one of the patients down the line tried to reach for her as she passed him (she didn’t even notice) and missed. The man rolled off the bed and slammed to the hard floor, creating a loud thump that was sent throughout the room. Everyone turned to see what the noise was, but the doctors looked away once they saw it was just a patient that had fallen. They turned to us, giving us that look which said,
Do your job
.

Melvin inched toward him as I stayed with the doctors. It was clear that he was scared, but I guess he felt he had a job to do and wanted to help him back onto his bed. He moved closer and closer, but kept his guard up.

Oksenberg
was standing with his hand on his chin again, as if he were debating on whether or not to agree with Haas’ suggestion. That’s when the second patient lunged forward from his bed, grabbed
Oksenberg’s
left arm and bit into the side of his hand. The doctor screamed as the patient fell off the bed, chewing a piece of flesh in his mouth.

Me
and Haas were in shock. The nurse’s scream mixed with
Oksenberg’s
scream.

Melvin stopped in his tracks. His head shot around and looked at us.

The patient swallowed
Oksenberg’s
flesh. Blood covered the corners of his mouth. He was anxious for more; he wrapped his arms around the injured doctor’s leg and clenched his teeth into his ankle. I couldn’t believe the strength in his jaws. His bite almost tore through
Oksenberg’s
black pants and socks. Wasn’t strong enough to rip his clothes completely but it was strong enough to cut through his skin, as blood began running down to his shoe and splattering on the white floor.

I never heard such a terrifying scream as I heard come from the doctor’s mouth at that moment. I stomped my boot down onto the patient’s face. He ignored my blow and clawed at the doctor’s leg, trying to get to his flesh.

Doctor
Oksenberg
kept screaming as he fell back, landing on the bed of the man who was chewing his own tongue. But he was through feasting and wanted more. He sat up, wrapped his arms around the doctor’s thick frame and slammed his crooked, broken teeth into his neck.

We watched as he pulled his head back, taking a two inch chunk of
Oksenberg
with him. A geyser of blood shot out so far from the wound that it crashed onto my T-shirt.

My eyes went down to the blood stains on my shirt,
then
back to
Oksenberg
who looked as if he wanted to pass out, then I looked past him. My lips trembled as I saw four of these creatures headed our way.

Chapter Four

Melvin saw the four move toward me and the medical staff, and he was about to run our way when a woman patient grabbed his shirt. She moaned as she tried pulling him close. He reacted by trying to shove her away, but she continued, trying to force herself on him. Drool ran down the corners of her mouth and off her chin as the vaccine in her blood made her into a starved, sick maniac.

My friend was the sort of guy who would never harm a woman, but it was obvious he had no other choice. She charged again. Her moans turned to screams. With her arms outreached, she gripped his T-shirt and pulled. He slapped her hard across the face, and she stumbled back; her grip still tight on his T-shirt.

The man who Melvin was going to help off the floor was holding onto the frame of the bed, pulling himself up; his dead eyes on my friend the entire time.

Melvin was struggling to break the woman’s grip. His hands were squeezed tight around her wrists, and his face was turning red. She tried launching her head toward his arms; her teeth ready to take a bite. He let go of her wrist and pulled his one arm away, just missing losing some flesh to the crazy woman.

Now the man from the floor was on his feet and trying to grab Melvin. Melvin screamed and stepped back, letting go of the woman’s other wrist in the process. After a few steps, he stumbled over his own foot and fell onto the bed of another patient. This patient, a man, was one of about five who were shackled. With his one free hand he grabbed Melvin, who was lying across his chest at the moment, by his hair and tried pulling him up to his mouth.

Melvin saw the yellow eyes coming closer to him. He wasted no time and pushed himself off the bed, leaving a handful of hair in the shackled man’s hand. Standing now, he saw the woman rushing toward him. He darted out of her path, and she crashed into the window, shattering it. Broken glass fell on the woman and out the window.

Part of her was dangling outside. Her hands flailed, the broken glass slicing them open as she tried to pull herself back inside. Melvin couldn’t keep his eyes on her; the patient who he was planning on helping off the floor a few minutes ago was pushing him against the wall. He ripped Melvin’s T-shirt at the shoulder and was trying to sink his teeth into his flesh.

Melvin shouted for help as he stretched out his arms, trying to push the man away. The man clawed at his face, leaving three bloody lines from his temple down to his cheek.

My friend balled up his hand into a tight fist and slammed it into the man’s face. Blood trickled down his nose, but he kept attacking.

The woman placed her bloody hands around the edges of the window frame and pulled herself in. Pieces of glass from the shattered window were stuck in her face and arms. Her face and hair had blood running from all the gashes, and it was smearing into her faded flowered dress.

Melvin was still punching the man. He landed so many blows to his face that his nose was now broken and most of his front teeth were either chipped or knocked out all together.

Melvin turned to his left and saw the woman standing at the window frame, covered in blood. He grabbed the man by his shirt and spun him around toward the woman. The man slammed into her, causing her to launch back to the broken window. This time, she was sent sailing out, taking whatever broken glass remaining in the frame with her.

As Melvin continued fighting the man, a loud thump was heard from outside, twenty-five feet below. The man had his hands wrapped around the back of Melvin’s head now and was trying to pull him close. My friend put one hand around the man’s neck, and one hand was pulling his hair. He pushed the raging lunatic back toward the broken window, the lunatic screaming the entire time.

“Watch out, pal,” I said. Melvin turned back and saw me holding the wooden leg of a broken chair, about fifteen inches long. He darted to the side. Once I saw he was clear, I swung the leg and bashed the man in his eyes. I could hear the bones in his face crack.

He was leaning on the window sill and was fighting to gain his balance as he screamed. His right eye looked as if it was about to drop out of its socket.

I waited to see if he would make a move, or if he would stop. For a second, I thought he’d wised up. I could swear that he was contemplating on what to do next. He had this look like he wasn’t sure. His head turned from me to Melvin and then back to me.