Lights Out (17 page)

Hall dashed out of the way and the creature crashed into the concrete wall. He didn’t wait to see how fast the thing got back to its feet; he figured it would be pretty fucking quick. Instead, he ran down the stairs as fast as he could, and when he saw the sign that read GROUND FLOOR he knocked the door open and ran like Kobe making a fast break.

Cold seeped from the hole in his side, and he stumbled. Feet tangling, he fell to the hard floor. His eyes began to droop shut, and he thought that maybe it would be better to just stay here, to close his eyes and rest. He could spare a second, maybe. Why not? Might be asleep before Dunlap caught up to him. Probably wouldn’t feel a thing. He took in a slow breath, letting his muscles relax, and it all felt so good. Sure, he could stay like this until somebody found him. He’d escaped solitary and made it this far; let somebody else come the rest of the way.

The sound of a door slamming open dragged him back to reality. He scrambled first to his hands and knees before jumping to his feet. As the pain in his side surged back to life, he let out a cry and broke into a sprint. How far had he been from the stairway? How far ahead of that thing was he? Dammit, he couldn’t remember.

He reached the end of the hallway. It turned both left and right, and he chose left for no reason in particular. Now, he had to place a hand on the wall just to keep upright. The entire world kept pitching back and forth underneath his feet. He wanted to trip and stumble, wanted to fall, but the approaching sound of the monster that looked like Dunlap kept him going.

Hall approached another bend in the corner and followed it. A metal sign hung on the wall. He tried to read it, but his vision had gone blurry. Squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them again, he managed to make out a large letter B. The letter almost brought a smile to his face, would have if the pain in his body wasn’t so great. He continued down the corridor as fast as his weakening legs could manage.

And he ran into a wall of bars.

Tears welled up in his eyes. He hadn’t remembered the gates that seal off each unit from the rest of the prison. Safety lay beyond those bats, but if he couldn’t reach it, then none of this mattered one goddamn bit.

He grabbed the bars, pressed his face between them.

“Help!”

The word seemed to echo forever. He looked behind him, expecting to see Dunlap reaching out to grab him with those awful claws, but only saw his own blood where it had pattered on the floor. There was a lot of it, more than he thought should be possible. Had it all come out of him? Was that why he felt so cold?

“What the fuck?”

He screamed at the voice, turned around to find a young C.O. staring back at him, his eyes wide with confusion and a deep touch of fear. The guy was probably new.

“Who the hell are--”

The guard appeared to notice the blood then. He stepped back, taking in the scene. “Jesus Christ. Are you okay?”

“You gotta help me!” Hall pleaded. He tried to pull himself through the bars. “Something’s after me, man!”

“Where are you supposed to be?”

Shouts echoed from behind the guard, inmates waking up and wanting to know what the fuck was happening.

“Let me the fuck in! It’s coming!”

And then he heard it behind him, that low snarl. He didn’t need to turn around, because he saw the young guard look past him, and he saw the kid’s eyes grow even wider.

“Oh, Jesus,” the guard muttered.

“C’mon!”

And then he heard the monster break into a run behind him. At the same time, the guard broke from his terrified stupor and punched a button on the wall. There was a loud buzz, and then the barred door slid open.

Hall tumbled through. Shoving the guard aside with one bloody hand, he staggered past and shambled to the center of the open floor. He saw another guard running for him. This one had a nightstick out and ready, about to be used on the bleeding brother who’d dared wander out of his cell instead of dying. Figured.

He heard shouts and calls from every direction. Angry, excited, scared. It all blended together, swirling with the sound of blood pulsing through his head. The guard was almost on him, nightstick cocked back and ready to strike, when he heard a scream cut through the rest of the noise. The sheer pain and terror in that cry told him the young guard hadn’t gotten the gate shut in time. The thing that looked a whole lot like Dunlap was in here with them. He wasn’t safe. Not by a long shot.

The second guard seemed to forget him, then. Instead, the hack ran to help his friend. Hall looked back to the gate and saw the kid was already on the ground, the monster wrapping around him like it had Shaw.

As he watched the second guard race to save the kid, he searched for the word again. The yells from all around him didn’t help, but his thoughts had finally seemed to slow. Everything had calmed down. His head felt heavy, and he knew he was swaying on his feet.

Finally, the word appeared in his mind. It shined like it was made out of neon. Hall took in a final breath and screamed it as loud as he could.

“Vampire!”

He collapsed to the floor.

***

Maggot screamed, trying to wrench his ankle free of the killing thing’s grip, but the creature refused to give up so easily. The claw slashed into the skin of his leg, and he felt the blood there begin to flow over his foot. He lost his balance and fell backward, landing with a thud.

The killing thing tried to overtake him, to claw its way to his throat and tear it open like it had the nurse’s. Maggot pounded his small fists against the thing’s head, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. The monstrous cranium lolled to one side now, as if the creature couldn’t lift it. He was thankful for that. It meant he couldn’t see those eyes.

The thing’s claws gripped his shoulders, and Maggot slammed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to watch the thing bite him. Confusion swirled with his fear and sent shivers through his body. Tree had killed it. Why was it still attacking him? Would it not stop until it had finally destroyed him?

His scream faltered and became a whimper. He held his breath, waiting for the teeth to pierce his skin, waiting for the sucking sounds to begin, but then the killing thing was suddenly gone.

Something screeched, and he opened his eyes in time to see the killing thing land in a heap ten feet away. Tree was stalking toward it, hands curling into angry fists at his sides. “You a tricky fuck,” the big man said.

The thing moved, shifting onto all fours. Its head still hung crooked and limp from its shoulders, but that did not appear to matter. Nothing was going to stop the killing thing. Not until it had completed its purpose.

Maggot scrambled backward on his elbows and buttocks, his eyes locked on Tree and the killing thing. Tree stalked the monster, looking for an opening. He grabbed up a metal stand, one that still had an I.V. bag hanging from it, and switched his grip to hold it like a baseball bat. Suddenly, the killing thing leapt at Tree, and the big man swung the stand with more strength than Maggot had ever seen. The metal cracked against the creature’s skull, sending its entire body crashing to the ground, knocking over a cot in the process.

It landed on its back, and Tree was there, waiting. He slammed the stand into the creature’s face once, twice. A third time. The monster shrieked in pain, and then Tree tossed the stand aside. Maggot watched, holding his breath, as the huge man raised a foot high and stomped down on the thing’s blood-coated throat. A pained gurgle escaped the killing thing, and then Tree was stomping down again. Tree’s bare foot rose up and crunched down over and over, growing bloodier with each impact. The killing thing thrashed on its back, but it did not grab its attacker, did not fight back. Slowly, its movements ended. With the next few impacts, Maggot heard a wet sound. A moment later, Tree stopped and bent at the waist, reaching for something. When he stood up again, he held the killing thing’s head in his hands.

“That’s gonna do it,” the big man said. “Let’s go.”

Tree tossed the head to the side and led the way. Maggot followed close behind. He wasn’t about to let the giant lose him. The big man could keep him alive, could destroy the killing thing not once, but again and again. Together, they raced to the end of the long infirmary and bolted through the swinging doors.

The screams reached his ears at once. Looking to his left, he saw the other patients, all three of them. Four more of the killing things were on them, drinking them and ripping them to pieces with their talons. As he watched, two of the things grabbed one of the patients and dug their claws into his fleshy abdomen. A horrible, tearing noise split the air, and then the body ripped in two along the waist, each creature drinking deep of their half.

Maggot pointed at the monsters. He looked up at Tree. “Kill them.”

The big man looked down at him like he was insane. Maggot knew the look well. He saw it all the time.

“You can fuck that noise,” Tree said. His large hands closed around Maggot’s arms, and then Maggot was being yanked backward down the hall, away from the killing things that were now looking up, piercing him with their horrible eyes. He saw hunger in those eyes, in the expressions on their bloody faces.

Their faces.

“Dr. Wilson?” he whispered. The doctor was running for him in that loping animal stride, just as the others did. His jaws opened and clacked together, and Maggot shook his head back and forth. No. Dr. Wilson wasn’t a killing thing. Dr. Wilson was nice to him, had always used his real name. The doctor would never hurt him.

But Dr. Wilson was covered in blood now, and his eyes had grown deep and red, and his hair was a wild tangle full of dirt and blood.

Maggot began to cry. It was all too much. His legs stopped working, and then Tree was not pulling him so much as dragging him, stunned and limp, away from the killing thing that looked like Dr. Wilson.

“Goddammit, Maggot! Help me!”

“No!”

“I’ll fuckin’ leave yo ass!”

And that sounded fine. He did not care if the giant left. Did not care if Dr. Wilson and the other killing things took him, if they ripped him apart or drank him dry. He had experienced enough, too much, and he just wanted it to be finished. Watching Dr. Wilson draw closer, he held out his arms, eager for the man who used to be so kind to take away the entire world. The doctor was almost on top of them, the others hot on his heels, and Maggot strained to reach out and grab his clawed hands.

But then he heard a door open, and suddenly Tree was tossing him through it. The world went dark for an instant, but then he found the open door again and scrambled toward it. Tree shouldered him away, sending him crashing into a metal shelf, and he looked up in time to see Dr. Wilson’s face in the doorway, and then the door slammed shut and plunged them into total darkness.

Maggot heard claws squeal against the other side of the steel door, and he heard Dr. Wilson and the other monsters snarl with rage, heard Tree’s labored breath. The sounds filled the room like burning steam.

“Hope this muthafucka holds, man.”

Maggot did not respond. Instead, he just sat down on the cramped floor of what he realized must be a closet. Metal shelves full of various items surrounded him on all sides. He examined them with his hands for a moment and then gave up, uninterested, and decided he would rather listen to the scratching at the door, the rattling of the doorknob as the killing things struggled to break through. Slowly, the sounds diminished until eventually they were gone. Maggot and the giant’s breathing became the only sound in the tiny room.

“Think they left,” Tree whispered. “We gonna hang tight, though. They might’ve got bored, went to look for more meat. Fuckin’ hope they don’t come back for us.”

Maggot nodded, not caring that the huge man couldn’t see him. He concentrated on a single thought, one that repeated in his mind again and again.

Goodbye, Dr. Wilson.

***

Marquez watched Dunlap kill the second guard.

Rocha stood at his side, cheering. A lot of the inmates were cheering, but not Marquez. He wasn’t that stupid. He knew what he was seeing, and judging by the way the cheers began to lose volume, the others were catching on pretty quick.

Vampire.

It sounded stupid. Hell, it sounded insane. Vampires didn’t exist. They were things from movies and books and comics. They sure as hell didn’t show up in Burnham State Maximum Security Penitentiary. But Marquez believed the word the banger had yelled--was the guy’s name Hall? --was the right one. That one word put everything in its place. So much made sense now. All the deaths, the disappearances. The feeling that something bad was out there, something unnatural. Why they’d never found the bodies or found who was responsible for them. He understood all of it now.

Vampire.

Seeing is believing, and Omar saw plenty. He watched as Dunlap dragged the guard to the ground. The monster reared back its head, opening its mouth to expose the teeth he knew were fangs, and then bit into the officer’s neck. The man’s body seized in the creature’s grasp as if hit with an electrical current. Dunlap’s body went rigid as well, all but the head, which rotated back and forth on the neck. Marquez could hear the guard’s skin rip, and then Dunlap leaned back to spit the bloody hunk of flesh away before diving into the wound. He heard the piece of meat hit the floor with a wet smack.

Unit B was almost silent now. Everyone listened to the drinking sounds of the vampire on its victim.

“Motherfucker,” Rocha whispered

“You can say that again,” Marquez whispered.

Rocha crossed himself and started shaking.

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Oh fuck, Omar!”

He looked to the vampire. More than anything, wanted to scream like all the rest. Only he couldn’t do that. He had to keep his cool, had to watch this thing through to the end. This was important.

Dunlap looked up from his kill, from his meal, and hissed at the screaming inmates. The din of sound didn’t appear to disorient or frighten him. If anything, it seemed to irritate the monster. An instant later, Dunlap shook his head--blood flying from his lips--and returned to the guard’s ravaged neck.