Psych Ward Zombies (4 page)

Although his ‘Cheetah’ nickname had been derived from his eating habits, Chester was actually an impressively strong man. Underneath a thick layer of body fat there was an amazing amount of muscle. His job as an orderly involved a lot of sitting around and gave him plenty of opportunity to ingest junk food. But Chester had another, more physical, part-time job. He was an aspiring professional wrestler. His time outside the hospital was usually spent practicing his wrestling moves. His large size and overgrown beard gave him an intimidating presence in the ring.

“I do appreciate it. If I can ever return the favor, I will.” Dave eagerly shook Chester’s hand, feeling sincere gratitude. As the two men turned to go about their business, Dave glanced down at his own hand. It was now tinged bright orange. He wiped the dust on his pants and grinned.

Dave spent the next few minutes filling out forms and then went back to the restraint room to check on Luther. Janet was already there, observing the sleeping behemoth. She whispered, “He hasn’t stirred in a couple minutes, but he’s snoring pretty good.
”

Since Luther no longer posed an immediate risk, regulations dictated he would need to be released from the restraints. He would be allowed to sleep on the bed with the door open and the straps removed. Dave and Janet carefully removed the restraints and facial hood, being careful not to wake Luther in the process
.

Suddenly Janet stood bolt upright and shot Dave an accusatory stare. Her nose was scrunched in a look of disgust. Dave noticed her expression but did not understand. He raised his eyebrows and mouthed the word, “What?
”

Janet pinched her nose shut with her fingers and chastised Dave non-verbally with her facial gestures
.

Dave correctly guessed that Janet must be smelling some sort of odor, so he took a strong whiff of the air around him. The smell was like a punch to the stomach, reeking of rotting sewage. He stifled a gag. Dave pointed his finger to his chest and shook his head, disclaiming any responsibility for the stench.

He and Janet both turned in unison to look at Luther, who lay on the bed sleeping like an angel. Dave grabbed Janet’s arm and led her out into the hallway.

“Looks like the big boy pooped himself. I guess you’d better clean him up.
”

He gave Janet a ‘gotcha’ smile and scampered away before she could think of a response.

The amount of paperwork involved in a new hospital admission was tremendous. On top of this, the amount of paperwork related to restraining a patient was twice as bad as a simple admission. Tonight Dave had his hands full, but he was trying to get it all done as quickly as possible. It was after four o’clock, so he was officially covering the entire hospital now. He desperately wanted to have all his tasks on B Ward done before any other crises arose. It took him a solid hour to get the paperwork done, but fortunately his pager was silent. Janet approached him as he closed Luther’s medical chart.

“Mister Stinky didn’t have a load in his pants. I think he just smells bad in general,” she said.

Dave was not terribly surprised. “Well, I guess personal hygiene in jail really isn’t very good. With a shower and fresh clothes, he’ll soon be smelling like a rose again. I’m sure our noses will all look forward to that. How’s he doing now?”

Janet said that Luther had been cleaned up and was tucked in his own bed now. She added that, despite the cleaning, he continued to possess a pungent smell.

Dave did not really care to dwell too much on Luther’s personal body odors, so he changed the subject. “Can you believe what Chester did? He totally saved my bacon.”

“Yep, if there was bacon involved, you can bet Chester was right there,” Janet snorted sarcastically. She had never cared much for Chester. Her negative
feelings for him were based strictly on her perception of his weight and dietary habits. In reality, she did not know much about him.

“Hey! Don’t pick on him, Janet. I think Chester’s all right. He seems like a really good guy. Just because he has a thing about food doesn’t mean
—”

The thought was interrupted by the shrill tone of Dave’s pager. He cringed a little, but felt reassured knowing he was caught up on the rest of his work now. He picked up a nearby phone and dialed the number appearing on the pager’s screen. A man’s voice answered.

“E Ward. This is Steve.”

“Hey Steve, this is Doctor Hexer. What can I do for you?”

“We have a patient here with a fever, and he’s vomiting too. Can you come over and take a look at him?”

“Sure,” Dave replied, rolling his eyes. He had zero interest in getting puked on or catching some sort of contagious flu bug. “I’ll be right over.”

He flashed an obscene gesture at the receiver before hanging up, and then turned to see Janet. She had been observing the phone conversation with amusement. She simply smirked and went back to her own paperwork. Dave swung by his office to grab his stethoscope before leaving the ward. When he arrived on E Ward he encountered Steve, the nurse he had spoken to on the phone.

Steve was a middle-aged man whose hair was shoulder length on the sides and back, yet completely bald on top.
It was like a mullet, only with all party and no business. Steve wore glasses with lenses so thick they could probably be used on the Hubble telescope. Dave had met Steve before and always thought he looked like an alien. He had considered modeling a Halloween prop on Steve’s likeness, but figured someone might recognize it.

Steve
explained how a young boy on the ward had developed a stomach ache this afternoon. Things were mild at first, but the boy’s symptoms had worsened in the past hour. He had thrown up his dinner and had a high fever. Steve said the boy had gone on a home pass to visit his family over the weekend and several of the family members were having similar symptoms. It sounded like a common stomach virus.

Dave walked out onto the ward and found the child, a thin eight-year-old with red hair. His name was Samuel, and he had arrived at Eldemere for six weeks prior. The juvenile patients generally had much shorter stays than their adult counterparts, since their symptoms were less severe than the adults. The kids were typically hospitalized due to anger outbursts and tantrums, rather than psychosis or other kinds of severe mental illness. Samuel had been admitted to the hospital to work on his problems with anger, but he also had obsessive-compulsive issues
.

“
Hi, Samuel. I’m Doctor Hexer. How are you feeling?” Dave asked the child, who appeared tired and a bit pale. The two stood almost eye to eye.

“
I puked.” Apparently the child was not in the mood for prolonged conversation.

“
Uh, yeah, I heard. Feeling better now? I know I always feel better after a good barf.”

Samuel smiled a little. If he had felt better, he probably would have giggled. “I think I got the bad stuff out. It came out my nose. I’m just tired now.”

Dave felt the child’s head, detecting the fever. He produced his stethoscope and listened to the boy’s heart and lungs, followed by palpation of his abdomen. He completed his exam by checking Samuel’s throat and feeling for swollen lymph nodes around his neck. While he did these things, he asked Samuel about any other symptoms, such as diarrhea or sore throat. Once finished, Dave was satisfied that this was nothing terribly serious. Since his pager had remained silent and his work was caught up, he decided to sit and chat with the young patient.

During his examination of Samuel, he had noticed that the boy would frequently extend his fingers sequentially, as if counting something. He asked the boy about it, careful not to make him feel self-conscious. It turns out that one of Samuel’s symptoms was the compulsion to count words in series of threes. Every time someone spoke, Samuel was busy in his mind, marking off the words in orderly sets of three. Since he was still young and not particularly good at math yet, his subconscious mind recruited his fingers into the irrational counting. It was not a terribly noticeable or disruptive behavior, but the net effect was that the child could never apply his full concentration to any conversation. He also had obsessive thoughts about being “bad” or “evil”. Those thoughts just popped into his head randomly throughout the day and stuck there. Much like the counting, these obsessions were completely irrational
.

Despite his illness, Samuel was a good kid. He came from a solid family who had been trying their best to provide everything he needed. For no clear reason, his brain had developed the mental disorder. His symptoms had caused Samuel to struggle academically and socially. Samuel had terrible self-esteem and had become very withdrawn. The stress of his illness and the social isolation contributed to depression and anger issues. Although he had improved dramatically with the medications and counseling here at Eldemere, he still had some residual symptoms. His improvement meant he would probably be discharged home soon and could continue his treatment as an outpatient.

They talked for a while, but eventually Dave had to answer other pager calls. One was an elderly patient who had fallen and needed to be checked over for injuries. Another was a patient whose medication order for anxiety pills had expired. These tasks were quick and easy. Dave was also called to see a couple of patients on D Ward who had gotten into a fight. Much like restraint incidents, fights between patients always led to a lot of paperwork, even if there were no injuries.

During a lull, Dave called B Ward to check up on Luther. Janet reported that he was awake again and nonchalantly walking about the unit like nothing had ever happened. Amber had been shadowing Luther, and those two were quickly becoming chummy
.

“That’s just lovely,” Dave said, in a facetious manner he knew Janet would appreciate. Janet expressed concern that the two patients would work together to create chaos on the ward, although she figured it would take several days before the drama erupted. After her shift ended tomorrow morning she would have several days off in a row, so she did not expect to be
at work when the fecal matter hit the whirling blades.

It was now ten o’clock. Dave made his way to his office on B Ward, unlocked the door, and sat down at his computer to
clear out the remaining emails. While he worked, he ate a couple snack bars he had stashed in his desk. He began to feel tired, so within a half hour he picked up his duffel bag and grabbed the small battery-operated clock off his desk. As he left his office, he pulled the door shut behind him and heard the reassuring click of the lock engaging. His office door had a manual lock, but it was designed to default to the locked position whenever the door was shut. This reduced the risk of patients sneaking into the office.

Dave trudged a few steps down the corridor to a nondescript door bearing a small plaque that said “B Ward Physician Quarters”. Each ward had one of these small lodging rooms where the doctors slept on their overnight shifts. Each of the rooms contained a twin-sized bed, a small nightstand, a phone, and a lamp. There was no television, radio, clock, or night light. The rooms did not even have decoration on the walls. Dave always figured the hospital administration did not want to make these rooms too comfortable, lest the doctors spend too much time hiding out here when there was work to do
.

Dave flipped on the lamp as he entered and he tossed his duffel bag on the bed. He proceeded to unpack
his bag, producing a toothbrush, a small tube of toothpaste, and a washcloth. He carried these items to the nearby restroom and prepared for bed. Returning to the on-call room, he changed into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. As he settled down to retire for the night, he placed his small alarm clock onto the nightstand. He had been using the little clock for years, and appreciated its simplicity and reliability. All he had to do was change the battery about once a year and the clock would return the favor by keeping perfect time. He set the alarm for six AM, optimistic that he would be allowed to sleep that long without the pager going off. The pager had been placed on the table, within easy reach. Dave flicked off the lamp and shut his eyes.

Dave awoke in a sweat, feeling like he was choking. He was disoriented, and for a moment he thought Luther was attacking him again. He flailed his arms, trying to push away any unseen attacker. Suddenly the bright glare of a flashlight shone in Dave’s eyes. Dave was blinded but could hear Janet asking, “Hey, Doc, didn’t you hear me knocking on the door? Are you okay?”

His heart began to pound even faster, as it occurred to him that Janet would only be waking him up if something were wrong. Had he slept through the sound of the pager? Was there an emergency?

“What? Hang on, what’s happening?” he asked, waiting for his brain to reboot. The temporary blindness had receded, allowing him to see the faint outline of Janet standing over him.

“You missed a lot while you were asleep. The power and phones are both out, and Luther decided to go bonkers again. We had to put him in restraints a second time.” Janet’s voice sounded serious. Dave quickly dismissed the idea that this was some sort of practical joke
.

At exactly midnight the hospital had been plunged
into total darkness. The blackout had lasted for several seconds until the emergency generator kicked on to power the auxiliary lighting. The auxiliary lights were placed at sparse intervals around the hospital, providing just enough dim light to make out the corridors. However, much of the hospital remained in the shadows.

A peculiar feature of the hospital’s design was that the locks on most of the doors utilized electromagnets. Electricity passed through the mechanism and kept the doors tightly locked until someone walked by and swiped an ID badge. However, if the main power went out, the locks on the ward doors would cease working. All the ward entrances were now totally unlocked during the outage. Fortunately, the patients did not know about this “feature”. Most patients were in their beds anyway, blissfully unaware that the power was out
.

While the ward doors were now freely permeable, the designers of the building had built in a fail-safe mechanism. The main
external doors to the hospital did not utilize electromagnets, but instead relied on heavy solenoids that required electricity to open. The difference in design meant the outer doors remained tightly locked, and all patients and staff were now securely contained within the building. The courtyards were still accessible, but 20 foot steel fences around the courtyards meant no one was going anywhere. Even during a power outage, the hospital was escape-proof.

When the building had been unveiled, concerns were raised about the safety of this arrangement, particularly in case of fire. The planners quelled those anxieties by pointing out that such a design allowed for free movement of personnel and supplies within the hospital during a crisis, with no fear that the patients would run off. Besides, the building was made almost entirely of steel and concrete, so it would not burn. There was no need to evacuate the building in case of a fire. “What could possibly go wrong?” the designers asked.

Janet handed Dave a flashlight, as the dim light from the hallway did not provide much illumination. She then hurried back to the ward, leaving Dave to get dressed. As Dave changed from his casual sleeping attire to the more formal work clothes, he looked over at his clock. Once again, his battery-operated friend had not failed him, even when the whole hospital was in a state of disruption. The clock said it was 2:13 AM. He had brought a sweater in his duffel bag, but elected to leave it. The temperature was ridiculously hot in the room. Dave guessed the ventilation system was not hooked up to the emergency power.

When he arrived on the ward, Janet handed him a walkie-talkie
.

“
Here. You’ll need this,” she said. “The phones aren’t working, so obviously the paging system is dead.”

Dave pulled his pager off his belt and tossed it onto the counter. While he felt a brief sense of relief to be free of the electronic device, he was even less enthused about carrying the walkie-talkie. He was trading one electronic leash for a larger one.

“Has anyone tried calling for help?” he asked.

“Sorry, D
oc. Like I said, the phones are down and the walkie-talkies won’t reach town. With the power outage, the cell booster on the roof seems to be dead too. I can’t get any signal on my phone.”

Dave took his own cell phone from his pocket and checked the signal strength. No bars
.

“Awesome,” he mumbled. He then realized what Janet had said earlier about Luther being restrained. “Is the big guy still in the restraint
room?”

Janet feigned a look of stupidity. “Um, yeah, unless he decided to break the leathers and leave. But, yeah, I think he’s still there.”

Dave chuckled at Janet’s sarcasm. He had grown to appreciate her cynical humor. He responded with his own facetious remark.

“
So, who did he choke this time?”

“Actually, he didn’t choke anybody.” Janet stopped and turned to face Dave. Her expression was now serious. “Worse than that.
”

Dave was surprised by her reaction. He assumed Luther had made some threats and had been quickly contained. Disruptive patients were almost always apprehended by staff members before they had a chance to act out their threats
.

“
He bit Jason on the neck,” Janet continued. “Poor Jason was just walking by, and Luther jumped on him. It was too quick to stop him. He just pounced like a tiger.”

She drew her hands up and imitated the claws of a cat.

“Speaking of jungle cats, did Chester get involved?” Dave asked, feeling strangely enthralled by Janet’s wild animal impersonation.

“Chester knocked Luther off Jason and pinned him to the floor. He held him down until we could get more staff to help out. But by then, Jason had already been bitten.”

“Holy crap,” Dave muttered, dazed by the news. He stood up with the intent to check on the injured patient. “Where is Jason? Is he okay?”

Janet hesitated a couple seconds before speaking. “Ah, well, we’re not sure.
”

Dave stared at her expectantly. She cleared her throat softly,
and then continued.

“When Jason got bit, he freaked out,” she said. “You know how he gets. He was running around the unit like, uh, crazy.
”

“
So, where is he now?” Dave asked impatiently. He quickly scanned the nearby day rooms, looking for Jason.

“He was running around so fast he crashed into the door of the ward. The door isn’t locked, you know. When he hit it, he just kept going. I sent Richard, the orderly, to go look for him, but he hasn’t come back yet.”

Dave sat back down and rubbed his face with his hands. This night shift was turning out far worse than he had ever imagined.

“Good grief! What else can go wrong?” he asked.
Dave kept his face buried in his palms, hoping the posture might encourage Janet to offer some good news. However, she was strangely silent. He looked up to see an odd expression on Janet’s face. It was a look that suggested more bad news was coming.

“
Great. Now what?”

Janet paused again. “Well, I’m not really sure what it means, but Luther still smells really bad. He smells like he’s rotten.”

By now Dave was incredibly stressed and his nerves were shot. However, the statement about Luther’s odor seemed completely absurd, prompting Dave to laugh. His laughter trailed off as Janet just stared at him in stony silence.

“What are you talking about?” Dave asked.

Rather than trying to explain, Janet led Dave down the corridor to the restraint room. An orderly named Mel stood nearby, keeping watch over their bound patient. Dave had always though Mel looked like a frog, due to his short body, wide head, elongated mouth, and prominent eyes. Dave usually thought “ribbit” whenever he saw Mel, but on this occasion Dave was too distracted by his bound patient.

Luther was strapped down in the leather bindings, just as he had been hours earlier. However he was not thrashing now. He lay completely still other than his eyes, which roamed wildly about the room. The eyes paused at random intervals to glare at the staff members.

Two things hit Dave immediately upon entering the room. One was the overpowering stench of decayed flesh. The other was the raspy, wet sound of Luther’s breathing.

“My God! What the hell’s wrong with him?!” Dave gasped.

Janet shrugged. “I don’t know. Even though his breathing is all weird, he doesn’t seem to be in any sort of distress. He actually looks kind of calm.”

Dave asked Mel to fetch a stethoscope, resisting the urge to say “hop to it”. The orderly complied with the request and returned shortly. He handed the instrument to Dave. Dave placed it in his ears and listened carefully to Luther’s vital organs. Being so close, the smell was overpowering. He could see that the Luther’s skin had turned an ashen gray and his eyes looked like a mixture of pus and congealed blood. As Dave listened, he paused several times with a frustrated look on his face. He moved the head of the stethoscope around, trying for a better listening position. Finally, he stood up and looked at Janet with bewilderment
.

“I can’t hear a heartbeat, and his breathing just sounds like farts in a bathtub. This makes no sense!” He looked down at his patient. “Luther, how do you feel? Are you okay?”

Luther just bared his teeth and scowled at Dave with a contemptuous expression.

Dave turned back to Janet and they exchanged a sober look, signifying they both grasped the futility of the situation. There was no way to call an ambulance, much less get their moribund patient out of the building. It looked like Luther was very sick, but there was nothing they could do until the power or
the phones were restored. Dave directed Mel to alert him immediately if Luther showed any further changes. Mel agreed to do so, but did not appear terribly interested in babysitting a soon-to-be corpse. As Dave and Janet exited the room, their nostrils celebrated the fresh air.

Dave pondered aloud, “What’s going on here? Luther wasn’t like that when he got here, so did he bring in
some latent disease from jail? Or did something happen here to make him that way? All we did was talk to him, tie him down, and give him a shot of medication.” He recalled the cheesy fingerprints on the syringe and searched his mind for any reason why Chester would want to poison the man. The idea did not make sense, but nothing was making sense at the moment.

Back at the nursing station, Amber seemed to be waiting for some attention. She stood at the counter with her head down, apparently staring at her feet. Dave suspected she was upset about her new friend being placed in restraints. It was not unusual for her to act sullen when angry or sad.

“Hey, Amber. It’s late and you really should be in bed. What do you need?”

Amber did not look up or make any response. Dave wondered if she were possibly sleep-walking. He turned to Janet and she nodded, signaling that she would take care of getting Amber back to bed. As Janet reached out for Amber’s shoulder, she stopped abruptly as if she had walked into an invisible wall. Her hand froze inches from Amber’s arm.
Janet slowly turned to Dave, who instantly recognized a look of terror in her facial expression. She cautiously backed away from the motionless patient, whispering only two words.

“That smell.
”