Dead Eyes: A Tale From The Zombie Plague (10 page)

No more negativity.

I took the service pistol out of my bag and entered the West Wing.

The inside of the West Wing was as tidy as the entrance. No chaos here, not a single lick of paint out of place. My feet echoed without reply through the corridors as I began walking. The silence made me quiet; afraid to make a noise that breaks the tranquillity.

The building was a maze of corridors, examination rooms, waiting areas and offices. Progress was slow, I stopped to check every room to see if I could find any trace of the scavenge team. There was not a single sign of anyone having ever been here. All the offices were neat and organised; the beds in the wards were made with fresh linen. Not a single sign of anyone having been here at all, before or after the undead came. It was as if the hospital had never been used, a fresh build waiting to be dirtied by the sick and dying.

If the scavenge team had been here, why weren’t there any signs of their presence? A tidy building had not been scavenged. No ransacking or pillaging had taken place here. I started to worry that the team had not even reached the hospital. That they had been attacked or killed on their way here.

Libby…

I continued my search. Better to make sure before they weren’t here before starting to panic.

The next place I searched was the X-ray department. I pushed open the heavy double doors and made my way into the waiting area. Out of curiosity, I climbed over the desk and checked through one of the filing cabinets. Again, it was completely empty. Lots of cardboard folders, not a single file in any of them.

A thought hit me as I thumbed my way through the empty folders. The hospital had either never been used, or cleaned completely.

I closed the drawers, the metal tray clanging loudly as it hit the back of the cabinet. The clang was followed by a muffled yell somewhere nearby. Unable to work out what the cause of the yell was, I decided to investigate. Best case scenario it was a member of the scavenge team. Worst case, it was an undead. Either would give me an idea of what to do next. Find Morgan and tell him the good news. Find Morgan and tell him the bad news.

The sound had come from one of the x-ray rooms, I was sure of it. I made my way round, unhappy that the doors were windowless. Probably to protect from the radiation. There were four x-ray rooms in total. As I approached the first, I heard the muffled scream again. Instantly I froze, an ice-cold finger tracing down my spine. It was a scream of intense pain. Living or dead, the crier was suffering.

I ignored the first three rooms and made my way to the larger one at the far end, labelled “Main X-Ray”. I was certain the sound had come from inside there. Despite this my pace slowed, my body reluctant to move any quicker. I was sure that whoever was on the other side, they were no longer living.

I reached the double doors and placed my hand on the handle. The door had opened an inch when there was another scream, followed by many others, all slightly muffled, all filled with desperation. I could hear banging and scratching on glass.

Taking a deep breath, I poked my head through the gap in the door.

The room was divided into two by a large glass partition. On my side was a large control panel and a set of glass double doors. On the other side was the x-ray machine, a large ceiling mounted device that dominated the space. Between the machine and the glass, seven Daisies screamed impotently at the window, their dead red eyes piercing through at me. Each of them wore a tattered, bloodied medical gown, torn and shredded so that they were only just about recognisable.

I looked past them and saw a mess of overturned beds, straps and medical drips discarded amongst them. The glass partition was solid, the Daisies kept on one side like animals in a zoo. I took this opportunity to get closer, see the horror up close.

They screamed louder as I neared, the muffled noise almost pathetic. Yelling to be fed. Drawing nearer, I could see that each Daisy had lots of the small white hair across its body. Not like body hair, these were placed randomly, except for clumps of the white fluff that surrounded any sores or wounds.

Suddenly one of the Daisies banged its arm against the window, out of frustration that it couldn’t get at me. Before it took its arm away, I spotted blue ink on its wrist. Although the skin was distorted by disease, I could just about make out what the tattoo read.

“Patient 036.”

The realisation fired every flight neurone in my brain. I needed to get out of there, the urge to leave almost violently pushing me away. I had wandered into something that I didn’t want to see. Questions formed in my mind that I had no interest in pursuing. I was here for Libby, nothing else. I quickly left the room, making sure the door closed beside me.

I had seen enough now. The scavenge team couldn’t have searched here. Seeing the Daisies perhaps sped up my realisation, but the facts remained the same. Nothing had been taken. Scavengers don’t come to hospitals and take nothing.

I left the X-ray department and quickly headed back towards the East Wing. Walking back made the hospital seem more alien. How could everything be neat and tidy, so calm, when there were undead locked inside? Patients. Patients locked inside.

I was trying to process this information when I heard another muffled scream. It was from an area I had missed during my initial search. “Imaging Centre”.

Confused and scared, I quickly made my way towards it. I entered the waiting room and immediately knew where the noise was coming from. “MRI Scanner One”. It couldn’t be true, could it?

I walked to the door and stopped, pressing my ear against the wood. More muffled screams. More scratching against glass. I pushed the door open.

The Daisies screamed as they saw me, smashing against the glass. It was just like the X-ray room, the undead placed on one side, locked away. What the fuck had happened here?

One of the Daisies took a step back before launching itself against the glass.

Crack.

A small fracture appeared in the window where it had struck its head. Both the Daisies and me froze. Realising what had happened.

“Fuck,” I said.

I closed the door and turned, running back through the building, the sound of more glass cracking behind me.

It was time to leave.

✖

I sprinted back through the building, not stopping to uncover any more dirty secrets. I had just reached the main entrance lobby when I heard screeching behind me. The Daisies were loose.

I entered the East Wing and closed the double doors behind me. I
looked around frantically, searching for something to barricade the doors with. Nothing.

Giving up, I turned and ran through the corridor, trying to guess which way the doctor went.

“Morgan?” I shouted, as loud as I dared to.

No reply.

I continued running, scanning my environment as I moved. Searching for a defensive position, places I could use to give me an advantage over the undead.

How long would I search for before giving up and retreating to the jeep? I didn’t like my answer to the question. I only hoped that the key had been left behind inside the vehicle.

I turned another corridor and heard frantic scrabbling coming from a nearby room, the sound of plastic containers being knocked over, little tiny rattles as they hit the ground.

The noise was coming from the pharmacy. I slowed down as I approached, unsure who or what was inside. When I reached the door, I could see the lock had been forced open. I crept to the doorway and poked my head round to see inside.

It was Doctor Morgan, rifling through the medicine cabinets, searching for something. I spotted he had a large rucksack open behind him, filled with small plastic pill containers.

He didn’t notice my arrival. Instead he took a container from one of the shelves and opened it, popping several small orange pills into his mouth. I watched as he put the container into the backpack.

Oxycontin.

“What are you doing?” I said, even though I knew damn well what he was doing.

“Resupplying,” said Morgan.

He smiled at me, trying to seem calm and in control. I noticed that the tremor in his hands had stopped. The shakes were gone.

Morgan was an addict.

“Tell me you’ve searched the building,” I said, “That you didn’t drag me here just to help you get your fix.”

“I’ve looked,” he said.

“Did you find anyone?”

“No,” he said, returning his attention to the pill cabinets around him.

“You must be devastated,” I said.

“Why’s that?”

“Diana,” I said, “The woman we were looking for.”

“She isn’t here. She must have moved on. We’ll look for her after I’ve restocked.”

“Debbie. You said her name was Debbie.”

He paused again. “Look, you’ve helped me out. I’ll help you out. Just let me get what I need and we’ll head back. Stone will let us back into camp and I’ll explain everything.”

I felt the anger rising inside of me, my hands uncontrollably balling into fists. “You risked my life for this,” I said.

In my mind I saw Libby’s face fading into nothingness, hope of finding her here dying in an instant.

“Don’t get bent out of shape. We’ll be gone soon.”

Timed perfectly, the shriek of a Daisy echoed through the corridors behind me. “What was that?” said Morgan, finally shifting his attention away from the drugs around me.

“Run!” I said.

I turned and left the pharmacy, running in the opposite direction to the Daisies. The floor was shined and waxed to perfection and I slipped trying to gain purchase. I looked back and saw Morgan wasn’t following me. At first I thought it was stupidity, the grip his addiction had over him. Then I turned the corner.

“Mmmmmmoooooooooooorrrrrrrrrr.”

The corridor was filled with moaners. Behind them was the fire escape, the doors open wide. More zombies were filing in. Driven by their hunger. How could they know we were here?

I looked round for another escape route. A stairwell to the upper floors was the closest option. I ran for the door, slamming it shut behind me. The moans followed me up the stairs, pushing me harder. There had to be another exit on the next floor.

I left the stairwell and continued running. The first floor was just wards. Unlike the rest of the hospital, this place was a mess. Bloodied towels and medical waste covering the floor. I ran as quickly as I could, being careful not to tread on anything that would send me tumbling.

I was about to pass through a set of double doors when I saw a body in one of the side corridors. It was once a zombie, its skull caved in by a golf club. I looked up and saw a face at one of the ward windows. An elderly woman stood there staring at me, tired drained look on her face. At first I couldn’t tell if she was a zombie or not, the lack of emotion on her face making it impossible to judge.

“Mmmmmoooooorrrrrr.”

The sound snapped the woman out of her fugue. She gestured for me to come to her quickly. I ran to the door, stepping round the fallen zombie. She unlocked the door and opened it, closing and locking as I made it to the other side.

“Get down,” she said.

We ducked down behind the partition, keeping out of view from the window. As we sat there quietly, I saw that the woman was severely injured. She had bandages and strapping all up her left leg, a pair of crutches on the floor nearby. More heavy strapping wound around her torso, moving up to her shoulders so that she appeared partly mummified. There was a fresh red stain on her arm, the bandage unable to conceal the teeth marks in her flesh. She had been bitten.

My eyes widened when I saw the marks, the woman noticing my shock. “It’s still fresh. I still have some time left.“

There was a loud bang from inside the ward behind us. It was coming from the toilet cubicle, the door shaking on its hinges as something inside fought to get out.

“Be quiet Geoffrey,” said the old woman, “Calm yourself.”

She looked at me and smiled. “My husband. He does get excitable some times.”

“Is he?” I began.

“Dead? Afraid so. Still, seems whilst his spirit is gone, the body still remains. He was always stubborn like that. Are you a doctor?”

“No. I came here looking for some other people,” he said.

“I see,” she said, sighing sadly.

She put her hand on the bloodied bite-mark, applying pressure against the wound. “That’s it for me then.”

“Wait,” I said, “I’ve just come from a survivor camp. They have a cure there.”

“I wish I could believe you,” she said.

“Its true. They’re even airlifting survivors out of the infected zone. If you come with me, I can get you the help you need.”

“Sounds too good to be true.”

“It is true, I promise you.”

“Then,” she began, “Then why did you leave?”

“I thought someone I cared about was here,” I said.

The old woman smiled. “Love makes us do stupid things.”

I nodded. The knowledge that Libby was gone hit me hard. I would never see her again. I finally knew that now.