The Demented Z (Book 2): Desolation (Book 2) (13 page)

Tom looked back at Eddie and whispered, “How do we get to
the O.R.?”

Eddie stared at the wall next to him.
  He continued to look at the wall like he had
x-ray vision and was checking the path through all the corridors and
stairways. After a bit he pointed to the
wall on his left and said, “We’ll have to use the left hallway and then jog to
the right. It will snake around, and
then cut over to a main hall next to the entryway.
  From there it’s down a large hall to the
stairway near the end.”

It sounded like an absolute death trip...large hallways all
the way through the main level of the hospital.  
“Any other way?”

“Not without going outside.”  
Eddie said while shaking his head.  
Then he stopped and raised a finger.  
“Wait, there is one more option, but I’m not sure it will do us any good.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“There’s a large admitting area for the clinic.”
  Eddie started while pointing to the
left. “Through there, through a waiting
area is a door that leads to the laboratory’s draw room and eventually to the
far hall after cutting though an office area.  
Once past the cubicles we’d be almost to the stairs once we popped out
in the hall. It’s a bit of a maze.”

Tom nodded his head thinking.
  “We might be able to stay out of sight...avoid
another firefight.”   Tom looked back at
the hallway. “I haven’t seen any...think
demented are on this floor?”

“They were flooding down the stairs.
  Entrance to those stairs is right around the
corner.”

Nodding, Tom said, “So we drew the closest ones.
  Ready?’

“No.”

“Me neither, but let’s get this over with.”

With his rifle out and ready, Tom squeezed between the desk
and the wall. Eddie followed with his
pistol drawn. As they neared the
stairway door the sounds of the demented faded from behind them and escalated
in front of them. They both hoped the
demented would not figure out that their prey was just a flight of stairs above
them.

Gun tight to his shoulder, Tom worked heel to toe along the
wall. Reaching the corner, he kept his
rifle trained down the left hall, while Eddie worked his way along the other
wall to get an angle to the right.

Eddie reached the corner and could see the stairway that led
down to the service elevator and angered horde.  
The door hung open, revealing only empty cement stairs disappearing out
of view. He gave Tom the all clear nod.

Moving quick and low, Tom crossed the opening to get to the
far wall and begin working toward the clinic admitting area.
  Eddie followed by swinging around the corner,
staying tight to the wall the entire time.  
Both men crept along the hall as quietly as possible.
  It was difficult to hear anything with the
growls and shrieks echoing up the stairs behind them, but neither had seen any
movement so far. At the same time they
both reached the corners where the hall split to the left and right.

Tom eased his head out, spying down the hall past
Eddie. A few demented milled about at
the far end of the hall, none of them noticed Tom.
  Past them stood a set of glass double doors
that led to the parking lot. Through the
glass, Tom could see dozens of infected staggering around outside.
  A pair of emergency lights shined down on
them like they were the main attraction at a circus.
  Tom looked at Eddie and raised four fingers.

Eddie gave a zero signal back toward Tom.

Tom lowered his rifle and raced across the hall in a half
crouch, angling away from the demented down the hall.
  Getting to the other side, he quickly shifted
along the hall until he could duck into the next opening.
  Raising his rifle, he surveyed the dark area
for movement. Finding none, Tom turned
to signal Eddie across the open space.

Eddie took several steadying breaths, building up his
nerves, and then he hunched low and scampered over to Tom.
  There were no howls of rage or loud huffs to
call reinforcements. First step down.

The clinic admitting area had chairs lining the walls and a
large ‘U’ shaped reception counter in the center of the open space.
  There were no lights on within the space so
it was only lit by what spilled in from the hallway.
  The darkness made it difficult to see, but
there was no movement and had anything been in the room with them, they would
have known it by now. Between rows of
chairs stood the door that Eddie said led to the laboratory draw room.

Tom gave a chopping motion with his free hand to signal
Eddie that they should move to the door.  
The two of them swiftly moved between rows of chairs.
  Growls from the demented slowly faded away as
they distanced themselves from the stairway and service elevator.
  Surrounded by deep shadows and a strange
stillness, both men arrived at the stout wooden door.

Tom looked around, a sudden creepy feeling coming over
him. He glanced back toward the
reception desk. His heart was
pounding. A shortness of breath nearly
overcame him. Listening, he heard nothing
but distant shuffling, but the panic still threatened to overtake him.
 
Panic
attack or a premonition
he wondered to himself.

Eddie stared over at him.  
He reached out and rested a hand on Tom’s shoulder, trying to get Tom to
look back at him.

Tom flinched and shook off Eddie’s hand, never looking
back. He slowly raised his rifle,
pointing it out into the hall. Working
hard, he worked hard to slow his breathing and steady his shaking hands.
  The jitter in the scope eased.

Eddie suddenly raised his pistol and pointed it toward the
hall as well. He must have either sensed
something or was feeling Tom’s paranoia.

Both men remained frozen, weapons targeting the hall, for
what seemed like an eternity. Nothing
moved.

Whispering, Eddie said, “What’s up?”

Tom remained in place.  
After a hesitation he whispered, “Not sure...just a bad feeling I guess.”
  He slowly lowered his rifle, turned and
looked at Eddie. “Sorry...about lost it
there. Let’s keep moving.”

The door in front of them was solid wood without a window
like the previous doors. They would have
to enter the next room blind, hoping there was no threat waiting for them on
the other side. Tom pressed his ear to
the door but could only hear the distant thrum of the generator below
them. Amazing how a structure could
carry sound within its walls, unheard until you listen right up next to
them. He looked over at Eddie and
shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we go
for it.”

Tom took another glance over his shoulder, half expecting a
horde of infected racing toward him.  
Instead it was only the same empty hall.  
He still could not shake the feeling of imminent danger.

Easing the door open, Tom peeked through the opening to see
what lay beyond. The room was almost
completely black, only lit by the meager light that he was letting in.
  There were no windows, no emergency lighting,
nothing to reveal the contents of the room.  
The sliver of light cut an ever growing swath of details, but only
directly in front of the door.

Tom heard something from within the room.
  It sounded far off, maybe on the other side,
but without knowing how big the room even was made it difficult to guess.
  He slow blinked a few times, trying to
increase his night vision and gets his eyes to focus into the darkness.
  Hearing the shuffling noise again he tried to
turn his head to the side, using his peripheral vision to eke out every bit of
vision his eyes had. There were shapes
in the room, maybe tables or patient chairs.  
There was movement beyond those, nothing he could make out, but
something was back there.

By the way Eddie cocked his head to the side, it was clear
that he heard something as well. He
looked over at Tom and pointed to one of his ears.
  Tom nodded his head in agreement.

Whether it was a premonition or just being plain chicken and
paranoid, Tom did not want to go back out through the snaking corridors.
  If this was only a single infected it should
be manageable. It seemed likely that one
had stumbled their way into the room and once the door was closed they were
thrown into complete darkness and unable to find their way back out.
  No gunfire would be key.

Tom quietly slipped into the room with Eddie trailing
behind. They eased the door closed,
blocking out the meager light. Tom
closed his eyes, forcing his mind to focus on fewer senses.
  Taking a few calming breaths, he felt along
the wall to the sides of the doorway, hoping there would be a working light
switch. The wall was smooth and switch
free. Shuffling noises continued on the
far side of the room.   Tom kept a mental
image of the layout and general placement of the objects he had seen.
  The shuffling noise was slowly working its
way across the room from left to right.  
There was no acceleration in its movements, which hopefully indicated
Tom and Eddie had not be noticed.

Eddie bumped into Tom.  
He then reached out with a hand that worked his way up Tom’s back, until
finally coming to rest on Tom’s shoulder.  
They would move across the room as one.

Tom held his rifle sideways out in front of him and began
slowly walking across the room. He used
the rifle in front of him as a bumper and slowly shuffled his feet, never
taking them all the way off the floor.

Partway across the room, Tom felt something with his rifle
barrel. It was solid and unmoving.
  Tom took a few slow movements to the
side. The urge to open his eyes was
nearly overwhelming, but he knew it would only cause him to lose focus.
  No longer bumping anything, Tom continued to
move forward, locking in on the noises that were now just a few yards away.

  The shuffling
suddenly stopped. It began sniffing at
the air. Whatever, or whoever it was
must have heard or sensed them in the room.

Tom froze in place, waiting.  
He had hoped to get close enough to bash the thing in the back of the
head with his rifle. Standing still, his
mind raced, flashing between Kelly, Hank, hideous demented, Sam...Lincoln, anger.

The sniffing suddenly stopped, and with terrifying speed
something slammed into Tom, knocking him to the floor.
  Hot, fetid breath washed over Tom.
  He used the rifle to keep the thing from
ripping into his throat. Struggling, he
tried to push the thing off, but it was amazingly strong...and heavy.
  The thing let out a loud growl followed by a
huff, calling for reinforcements. Tom
had to shut this thing up.
Where was Eddie?
  Tom bent a knee, planted his foot on the
floor, and used it to push and twist his body.  
Lifting one hip off the floor, Tom thrust out with the rifle and managed
to roll his attacker off.

Eddie made a grunting noise.  
This was followed by loud thrashing.

Tom kicked out with his foot, making contact with something.
  Whatever it was rolled away
from Tom, out of reach.   There was
a muffled scream and then a loud thud as something hit the floor.
  Emanating out of the darkness were sounds of
exertion. Grunts, growls, and the moans
of strained breathing were just some of the noises Tom could hear.
  In the pitch black it was impossible to tell
what was going on. He couldn’t even see
who was who.

Tom leapt back to his feet and raised his rifle up, ready to
slam the butt into some demented’s face.

There was a loud scream of pain.

Tom kicked out again, catching something solid and there was
no shout of pain. Using the butt of his
rifle, he slammed it down where he had felt flesh.
  With a loud crack the rifle made
contact. Showing no mercy, Tom continued
to pound the rifle into the one sure thing he had found.

The demented released Eddie and rolled out from under the
beating it was taking. Unprepared for the
movement, Tom was knocked off his feet and fell to the floor.
  Hitting hard, the wind was knocked from Tom’s
lungs, and his rifle went flying out of his hands, skidding across the floor.

In a heartbeat the demented was back on top of Tom.
  Tom used one hand and his forearm to hold the
demented back. The demented’s chest and
arms were slick with blood. Tom lost his
grip. Teeth sunk into Tom’s shoulder and
he screamed out. Intense pain shot
through his neck.

There was a loud crash as something slammed into the door
they had entered through. The pounding
continued as someone tried to force their way through.

Tom struggled to get his free hand on the throat of the
demented. As it continued to gnaw at his
flesh, Tom squeezed its throat and tried to push it off of him.
  Using his grip to crush as hard as he
possibly could, Tom was able to get the thing’s teeth off of his exposed
flesh. With a loud grunt he shoved the
demented off of him. Ripping around on
top of him, Tom began slamming his fists down into what he believed was the
demented’s face. The demented struggled,
trying to squirm out from under Tom, but he continued to beat at it with his
fists. Even once it no longer moved Tom
kept pounding on it. His wet, bloody
fists stung from each impact, but he continued on.
  He hit it with a few last exhausted punches
and let out a scream of frustration.

Flopping off of the dead man, Tom rolled onto his back.
  He lay there, sucking in air.
  The pounding at the door continued, but he
was unconcerned at the moment. Once he
finally got his breath back he whispered, “Eddie, you there?”
  No response.  
Now he whisper-shouted, “Eddie!
  You there?”
  Nothing.

Tom rolled over onto his stomach and with monumental effort,
rose to his knees. His eyes were open
and he was looking toward the far door that they had entered through, but in
the pitch dark, he saw nothing. The
pounding continued, even escalated, and Tom wondered how long the door could
stand up to such a beating.