Catalyst (Book 1): Decay Chains (4 page)

“But we don’t know how to kill them,” Josh said.

Stormy’s hand rested on her weapon. “Just try everything until something works, I guess.”

“I’m going Hollywood style and attacking the head.” Ian shrugged his shoulders, but it didn’t make his argument any more convincing. “Should work.” He cringed as his leg grazed the bed.

This is going to be damn near impossible
.

CHAPTER FOUR

DAYS UNTIL THE SUPERVIRUS GOES GLOBAL: 30:22:40

Past the metal double doors, which posed an impenetrable barrier, and down the hall on the right, hung a gorgeous exit sign. Perched inches above the door to the stairwell, it glowed a bright shade of freedom red.

Stormy shook her head and cursed the idiots who built the hospital. If everyone wasn’t dead when she got out, she was definitely suing the architect, the hospital, and the guys that put up the doors for this.

She was halfway out the door when the dead doctor flashed into view. He zigzagged back and forth across the hallway erratically checking doors.

“Shit he’s fast,” she said.

“Faster than before?” Ian asked.

“Way faster. And he’s checking the locks.”

“Already?” Josh asked.

“Yep. He’s jiggling the handles.”

“That’s not good,” Ian said.

Stormy wasn’t shocked when another super ripped the door handle out of her grip. She could smell her coming. The super’s violent entrance did scare the hell out of Ian and Josh, who dove back.

“Yeah, that’s definitely a fucking reanimated corpse,” Ian said.

“Told you so,” Josh said.

“You were right.”

A shot to the head dropped the female super, but not the male directly behind her. A second shot took him to the ground as he stepped over his dead accomplice.

The guys had recovered and were now right behind her. As Josh stepped over the male super, a bloody arm reached out for Ian’s ankle. He promptly whacked the super across the jaw with his laptop and broke both computer and jaw in a single swing.

“Shit,” Ian said. “I just built this damn thing too.”

Stormy had an unobstructed view of the next immediate threat. The dead doctor released the door handle he’d been fixated on and faced her. He cocked his head to the right before charging down the hall in her direction.

“Incoming.” Stormy backed up. The plan was to shoot him in the head, but when her gun jammed, she improvised. Face first, arms out, she dove across the hall.

The super’s impact with the double doors sounded like a three car pile up. The left door swung open and lodged in the dry wall. Dazed, he rose to his hands and knees.
Yeah, barreling into doors can have that effect, idiot.

Stormy popped the magazine out and tried to rack the slide. No dice. This was normally when Matt would come to her rescue at the range, but she was on her own now. The super’s eyes rose from the floor and found her. Empty little balls, framed in anger and a dash of confusion, locked onto their target. He straightened up and bolted toward her. Stormy snuck glimpses of Ian as she retreated. With Josh’s support, he limped down the hall behind her earless predator.             

To keep the super fixed on her, she crept backward. She gauged the distance between her and the exit sign to be one solid dash. Given the speed he demonstrated earlier, she wasn’t getting around him unscathed.

The super grunted and cocked his head again. His gaze darted from side to side at a breakneck pace. It was dizzying to watch. He was about to make another insane move. The guys probably left her. Why save her just to let the doctor have at her again later? Portion control? She needed to make a run for it before she got too far from the door.

Stormy yanked harder and the stuck shell budged, but she lost her grip and the magazine crashed to the floor. That thud would be the last sound she heard before Heaven’s choirs. The super’s battered fingers clasped around her wrist and dug in. Let her grave marker reflect that clumsiness could get you killed.

She wriggled, but couldn’t free her hand. His grip tightened and bit into her wrist. Bits of skin flaked off his fingers as they rubbed against her arm. Something slimy, she wasn’t sure what, rubbed into her skin as she contorted against his hold. She screamed in his face. He shouted back at her without words, just hot air and force. With her other hand, she trapped his, yanked down with all her strength, and twisted her wrist in the direction of his thumb, the weakest part of his grip. Meanwhile, his teeth neared her flesh.

He lost his hold on her arm and thrashed about trying to retrieve it. She was on her way back out of her leaning stance when he grabbed two handfuls of her hair. Stormy cried out slurs, directed at everyone but God, as the super yanked upward. She reeled as she stood on her tiptoes, trying to ease the pressure on her scalp. Choice words meant for Josh, then even Ian, flooded the hall. The super leaned into her neck and grunted.
This is it. Cause of death: reanimated corpse attack. Never would’ve believed it. Not even if someone handed me my own obituary.

Stormy’s eyes watered. Her scalp hurt so badly. She wished he would hurry up and rip her hair out already. The super grunted again. His nose coursed down her neck and his teeth scratched her skin. Nothing would stop him from pulling her apart piece by piece. Her arms flailed above her in search of his grip. She found his hands, but wasn’t at an angle to do anything about it. Under adrenaline’s command, she punched at the air hoping to land a hit. Her assault wasn’t going well. With eyes squeezed shut, she prepared to say her last words.

Her eyes popped opened when she heard the super shout again. He fell over into her, and took her to the tile. She landed flat on her back, pancaked between his rabid clawing and the rock hard floor. His hands released upon impact. Now they scrambled to get a piece of her. She shoved his drooling face aside in time to see Josh kick him in the gut. The super groaned, clearly pissed off.

Josh let another shot go in the super’s ribs. “Roll out from under him. Hurry.”

Cracking sounds reverberated from inside the super, but he shook it off. Josh was only making him angrier.

“I’m stuck,” she said.

She fought to get out from under him, but he was heavy. Josh held his arm out for her and kicked a different spot right above the super’s temple. Stormy was afraid he would grab Josh’s foot, but it didn’t happen. The super swiped at Josh until his temple caved in and sent brain matter flying in all directions. She freed herself from the torso up.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?” Josh asked.

Stormy wriggled completely free of the super. “It jammed and then I dropped my mag back there.”

“That sucks.” Josh yanked her up, dropped her arm, and hauled ass back to the stairwell.

“Grab your mag on your way,” he called out behind him. “It’s right there.”

Chicken.

Stormy ducked down to grab the magazine. The super still faced the other way, and grunted as he tried to stand. She reloaded the magazine, and one of her shots effectively burst his head apart. In complete disbelief, she bolted through the double doors.

An unnatural shuffling sound caught her attention. One look over her shoulder confirmed that she had more undead company. She leapt the last stretch to the staircase.

“Thank you,” she said as Josh slammed the stairwell door behind her.

He rubbed his Converse against the railing to clean the brain matter off. “Did he see which way you went?”

“I blew his head off,” she said.

“What took you so long?” Ian asked.

Stormy looked at Josh. “What took you so long?”

Josh pointed at Ian, who glared at them from halfway down the staircase. “He walks really slow.”

Ian pointed at his cast. “Car accident. Not my friggin’ fault.”

“Not my fault either,” Josh said.

“You were driving.”

“I can’t control other drivers. Be mad at the dude that cut me off.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Of course, you walk away without a scratch. Like a damn drunk driver.”

“But I got points on my—”

The door careened open so fast that Stormy almost didn’t get out of way in time. Shoulder first, Josh rammed the door. It slammed shut in a super’s face and three gnarled fingers fell to the floor. Undeterred, the super pounded on the door and jiggled the handle simultaneously. The door wouldn’t lock because the super kept messing with the handle. Josh held fast, but this wasn’t going to work forever.

“That’s not good,” Ian said. “Twenty minutes to learn intermittent pounding and now this guy’s multitasking? Uh oh.”

Josh leveraged his body against the door to get a better grip on the handle. “Told you the numbers were skewed.”

“You were right.” Ian reached out for the railing. “Time to go.”

“Ian’s going to get a head start,” Josh said. “When he makes it to the garage, I’m going to let go. You’re on your own from there.”

Ian limped down the stairs, two at a time. He gasped when his cast bumped the steps.

Stormy called down to him. “Bye, Ian.”

He didn’t look back. “Bye, Stormy. Good luck and Godspeed.”

The super jerked the handle hard. Josh lost his grip, but gathered it back before the super slammed into the door. Stormy leveraged all her weight to help Josh keep it closed.

“Go,” Josh said. “I got this.”

His expression was somber, but melted into matter-of-fact. At first, she didn’t know whether to hug him or slap him for patronizing her. But Matt made that face all the time. Josh was being sincere, not cocky.

“Thank you, Josh. Really.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” he said. “Helping out lovely ladies during the apocalypse is kind of what I do.”

“Okay.” She patted his shoulder. “If we make it out of here, Facebook me.”

“Yeah, can’t do that. I try to stay off the grid.”

“Oh—”

“I made it,” Ian shouted.

“That’s my cue,” Josh said. “I’ll count to three before I let go.”

“Much appreciated.”

Stormy was half a floor away when Josh shouted, “Good luck with your boyfriend. I really hope he’s still alive, in a good way.”

As she climbed, she counted with Josh.
One. Two. Three.
Twenty seconds elapsed before the door swung open and grated against the concrete wall. Footsteps echoed up and down the staircase, which made it impossible to know who was getting away and who was still being hunted.

CHAPTER FIVE

DAYS UNTIL THE SUPERVIRUS GOES GLOBAL: 30:22:20

Four.
At this pace, Stormy would be on the fifth floor in about thirty seconds. Every time she heard a thud, her feet went into overdrive. She couldn’t tell if the thudding was headed up or down and didn’t have time to care. Her breaths were shallow. She was getting tired. Five. Relief took a bit of the edge off when she reached the fifth floor door.

Her first plan was to barrel straight into the hall, but she might live longer if she peeked first. Her fingertips burned from grazing the door handle. She yanked her hand back and fanned out her fingers to cool them off.
A friggin’ fire. Awesome. I’ve got nothing to counter that.             

Thuds echoed off the walls again. The harbinger of death was definitely headed upward. She caught the trace of a person in her periphery and recoiled against the wall. Her back started to burn and she leapt forward again.

She could make out the person now. A woman in scrubs huddled against the railing. Her arms wrapped around her knees. Ninety minutes of terror etched itself across her face.

“Don’t hurt me,” the woman wailed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Stormy said.

She held her hands up in front of her. “Don’t shoot.”

“I’m not going to shoot you. Be quiet.”

The thudding echoed again, louder this time. The noisemaker was either stomping up the steps or getting closer.

Stormy held her index finger to her lips. “Ssshhh.”

The woman nodded.

She pointed downstairs. “He will hurt you. Come with me.”

The woman shook her head and backed away. Her kneecaps covered her mouth and muffled her cries. Stormy wanted to prod her some more, but knew she didn’t have time.

She refused to look back at the woman. No matter how cold it seemed, she had to cut out images she knew she couldn’t erase. The face of utter terror, the moment before it was eaten off, was one she refused to bank.

With her left hand, she braved the handle again. Burns on her right would only slow her down. When she opened the door, the sounds of hell flooded the stairwell. Crying, screaming, and the rumble of a healthy fire greeted her. As soon as the door cracked open enough for her to fit through, she let go of the handle. Smoke billowed and created a gray cloud that choked her. She couldn’t see shit, but it looked like she just barged into the center of a raging blaze.

Like a sunburn, the heat permeated her entire being, even her thoughts. She couldn’t tell which way to go to escape the flames. The tears she let flow, but she bit back her panicked cry. Her sneakers stuck to the tile as she took on the hallway. Arms outstretched, she searched for the walls. Nothing. Her next step landed upon something mushy. She slipped on it, but caught herself before falling over.

She reached out for the walls. Her left hand turned up nothing, but her right fingertips grazed a flat surface. She probed again. Her hand flattened against the wall, right as an explosion lit up the smoky hallway.

The fireball backlit the haze in a rush of color. Destruction radiated the hall with surreal beauty that astounded her. What her eyes saw juxtaposed what was really going on in an awe-inspiring and morbid way.

Eardrum bursting noises thudded through her skull. A migraine formed instantly. She choked down a smoky breath, propped her forearm over her eyes, and hit the deck. Only flecks of dirt sprayed upon her. The crying stopped mid-wail and never started back up. She breathed again. Relief and smoke filled her up.

Back upright, she felt her way along the wall one unsteady step at a time. Her eyes dried out before she reached the first door and her lungs felt like they were crammed full of glass shards. The focus she clung to faded. She couldn’t remember which side of the hall Matt’s room was on and she wasn’t even sure if this was the stairwell that neighbored his room. Going room to room was impossible. She wouldn’t make it that far before passing out.

She couldn’t remember if the stairwell door had closed behind her. If it hadn’t, she might have unwanted company steps behind her. Company that wouldn’t be slowed by breathing in smoky air.

The sprinklers choked off. This cut the lifeline the steam thrived upon. Two steps later, she tripped and landed lengthwise on an overturned medical cart. The wheels spun in a feeble attempt to ride the air down the hall. Syringes and crinkly packets splayed across the floor creating little mines in her path. She rolled off the medical cart, crawled around it, and sought out the wall again. When she found it, her fingers pushed straight through and she was back, face first, on the floor again. Her butchered elbows and knees detested her with good reason.

Gusts of smoke, laced with vapor, made each cough harder than the last. Now her ribs despised her too. She leaned against the wall and braced herself as the coughing grew into a full fledge fit.
This is it. Cause of death: smoke inhalation. It’s still a better way to go than becoming an hors d'oeuvre.

She fumbled through the smoke and banged her hands against the wall. The banging and her cries for Matt never even reached her own ears. When she opened her mouth to call out again, only coughs escaped. A gas chamber boasted fresher air than this hallway. He couldn’t hear her and he would never know that she came back for him. He wouldn’t hear her die. No one would.

She hacked violently on the smoke, which eventually brought her to her knees. Something flickered. A second later, it caught her eye again. The flickering was either closer or bigger this time. The third time she saw it, she noticed that it bobbed up and down. When she flattened against the wall, the flicker moved to the side, mirroring her action.

Shallow breaths weren’t even manageable now and she felt uber lightheaded. She tilted her head up in search of fresh air that wasn’t there. Her coughs tasted of blood and bonfires.

A hand she never saw coming closed around her arm and dragged her forward. Stormy flailed back. There was no strength to resist when a second arm caught her shoulder and pulled. She let the arms drag her down the hall.

Her head bobbed up and down, but her feet moved on their own terms. She stumbled down the hall behind the light holder. Unconsciousness would overcome her any second now, she felt it coming. She tripped over herself, debris in the hallway, and occasionally, the feet just ahead of hers.

Another explosion filled her ears and brought her a brief moment of lucidity. Flecks of dirt dusted her back and caught in her hair. A ringing found a permanent home in her ears. She looked up and connected the flicker she saw before to the flashlight in the hand fixed on her shoulder. The hand lacked chemical burns. It had to be a friendly.

The coughing forced up warm blood. She couldn’t make her hand reach her mouth. Blood dripped down her throat and soothed the dry parts it touched. She was exhausted and wanted to stop. It hurt to breathe, stung to keep her eyes open, and her head pounded like a jackhammer.
Dying isn’t the same as giving up.

Summoning the last of her energy, she dug her heels in and refused to move any farther. The hand on her wrist jerked. She jerked back. The hand jerked again, harder this time. She flew forward. Lacking the strength to fight anymore, she let the hand drag her onward until she collapsed on the floor, about five steps later.

When her head hit the tile, it jarred her back to consciousness. Her eyes swirled around in their sockets, but only saw smoke and more smoke. A plague of coughs jolted her back off the floor. The hand was gone and so was the flashlight. She was alone again and left for dead this time. She got to her knees, and then pulled herself upright. Three steps later, she found her faithful wall waiting. It seemed to want another shot at saving her.

She felt her way across one more door before the flickering returned. This time, she felt a second pair of hands reach out for her. Charred arms lifted her off her feet and carried her down the hall to a set of double doors. The burned arms didn’t frighten her, but she couldn’t figure out why. The light holder opened the door with a key card.

On the other side, Stormy gulped down deep breaths of fresh air.