Hurricane Dan (A Zombie Novel) (4 page)

Chapter 7

              The hospital was in shambles, it was as if they had stepped off of the street and right into a fun house. The first thing they saw when they came through the doors was two nurses and a doctor, trying to tighten the ropes that held a thrashing man to his chair. The man coughed, spat and wheezed as he struggled to free himself.

The place was packed, everybody seemed to have some sort of bite wound or another. They all swayed drunkenly and hunched over in their seats, nobody spoke. An orderly walked into the room, she was pale white and shook like she was frightened for her life.

"Three more bite wounds?" she asked, her voice breaking on the last word.

"No, I am here looking for my partner," said the cop.

The woman sighed in relief, "His name?"

"Jim Kacewell."

She thumbed through a clipboard she was holding. When she looked up her eyes were watery. "Fourth floor containment, room four fifty."

The cop thanked the lady and headed for the elevator; Dan and Barns followed. Looking back, Dan could see a couple EMTs pushing an uncontrollable girl on a stretcher. She kicked and fought, the strings holding her down beginning to draw blood. She turned her head towards Dan and snapped her mouth in the air, her gray eyes hungering for him.

"You coming?" asked the cop.

They were in the elevator already, Dan had to hustle to get in before the doors closed.

"Dis ain't no good," said Barns as the elevator began to rise. "It look like the hospital be losing control uh da building!"

The cop slammed his hand against the wall. "What the fuck is happening! It's got to be some form of rabies, or maybe bath salts."

"You think?" Dan asked, "two hundred attacks seems pretty horrific for a rabies outbreak and I don’t think you can get someone high on bath salts by biting them."

"Whatever it is, it has been traveling from host to host through body fluid. We got the first recorded account last night, first the attacker and then the victim. We thought it was only those two people, you are seeing how wrong we were."

The doors parted and they were introduced to a scene even more dismaying than the lobby. It was the sound that reached them first, screams, cries and moans. The moans, they were so dominant that they resonated through the air like a bass drum. Hospital beds lined the halls, sickly people were tied to them. Some fought savagely against the restraints that held them down, others, the ones who looked the worst, moved slowly, groaning as they reached out in hunger. Doctors ran back and forth, checking on everybody, careful to keep away from their patients’ mouths.

Dan stayed as far away from the hospital beds as the hall would allow, almost brushing his shoulders on the opposite wall, as they made their way to the cop’s room.

When they found it and entered, the cop was handcuffed to his bed looking sickly and pale white.

"Dicky," he said. "You made it."

The cop that was with them, Dicky, took off his hat and walked up to the bed. "They hand cuffed you."

The cop looked down at his hand. "It was my idea, they are running out of ways to restrain people. Used my own cuffs."

"What happened, I was just with you not that long ago," Dicky said.

The cop coughed and blood peppered the white sheets. "I don't know, it is happening so fast. I called my wife but I don't want her coming into the city to see me. Told her to head to her sister’s."

"That's smart, you’re still thinking clearly," Dicky said. "Let's get you out of here."

The cop in bed shook his head, "I'm fighting a losing battle, I can feel it." He reached down under the sheets with his free hand, the one wrapped in a bandage. He came up holding a pistol.

Barns and Dan both took a step back, they had seen what these crazies were doing bare-handed, they didn't want to find out what they would do with a gun.

He handed it to Dicky, "Take it, I have a feeling you might need it." He struggled to reach down and pull a few clips of ammunition. "Now get the hell out of here. Get the hell out of the city while you’re at it."

"I won't leave," Dicky said. Taking the ammunition and filling his pockets, he tucked the extra gun into the back of his pants.

"Don't be stubborn, Dicky." He froze, his eyes rolled back in his head and he began to have a seizure.

Dicky grabbed his legs and tried to hold him still. He shook back and forth, foam and blood spattering from his mouth. It went on for a moment and then he was still.

Dan held his breath, Dicky was still standing there, holding his legs.

"I think he dead," said Barns.

That was when the cop lurched forward, sitting up in the bed, and reached for Dicky. Only the handcuffs held him back as he screamed and stretched, drool seeping off his jaw in strings.

The cop tugged and yanked, blood began to pour from his wrist and the railing to the bed looked as though it were going to snap.

Dicky stood up and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "No, Jimmy, no."

"What do we do?" Dan asked.

Dicky pulled out his pistol and cocked the chamber. "We save as many people as we can," he said, lifting the gun and staring through the sights. He pulled the trigger and his friend’s brains were an instant stain on the wall, his arms stopped flailing and he was still.

Dicky holstered the gun and began to move for the door, "I have to get as many people in riot gear as I can if we are going to control this."

Barns and Dan followed him to the elevator, avoiding the flailing arms of the sickly people tied to their beds in the hall.

The lobby was out of control; some of the patients were already spazzing out. Two nurses were being attacked, one pinned against the wall by three women, the other on the ground by two men.

Dicky pulled out his pistol and fired three rounds into the back of one of the men; the only people who seemed to notice were the healthy. They jumped and squealed at the sound of a gun being fired, only to relax when they saw it was a cop. The sick paid no attention, including the man who had been shot. He just kept feeding on the nurse who lay screaming on the ground.

Dicky shot two more rounds and cursed, "He won't go down!"

One of the patients, who had been sitting still in his chair, snapped awake and stood up. His eyes held that grey mist of the sick. He looked at them and began stumbling, his mouth open. Dicky fired twice, both rounds hitting him in the chest, and they didn't so much as slow him down. It was Barns who stopped him, coming around with a mighty haymaker that met fist with skull.

The sickly man’s head cracked against the ground as he fell. He didn't flinch, no sooner did he hit the ground before he was already getting back up. Dicky met him with the barrel of his gun, putting a bullet between his eyes. That did the trick, causing the man to fall still.

"You got to put da bullet in they head!" said Barns.

Dicky looked at him as he walked up to the group assaulting the nurses, "You think?"

Five shots later and the lobby was once again still. The nurses were dead.

"What did you do!" screamed a nurse, coming out from a broom closet. "Those are people, this is police brutality!”

Dicky didn't look at her as he switched clips, "Ma'am, I suggest you get the hell out of this hospital and worry about yourself."

"I'm calling the police!"

"I am the police," he said and began walking to the door.

Dan watched the woman fall to the ground and begin sobbing into her hands. "Please, do what he says before it is too late," he said before heading out after Dicky and Barns.

The squad car was still waiting outside, only now there was a crowd standing around, staring at the mutilated body on the ground. They murmured back and forth looking terrified.

"Clear out, folks," Dicky said, waking up to the driver’s side door. "Go to your homes, lock your doors, it's not safe outside."

Barns hopped into the back of the car, Dan had to shuffle through the crowd to get to the passenger side.

"If this was a normal day I would tell you two to beat it and make you get out of my car. As it is, there is a good chance I am going to run into trouble and need a hand, since I no longer have a partner, there is a good chance I will use you. Therefore you can come with me, but I want you to be ready to act," Dicky said.

Dan nodded, "I'll be ready to help."

Barns was nodding too, except he was nodding so frantically that it looked ridiculous. "Yup, what da cop says, I do."

Dicky watched them for a moment before putting on the flashers and pulling away from the crowd.

Chapter 8

             
The speaker on the dash was getting worse, Dan could barely keep up. Dicky repeated a lot of what was being said, only he made it a little easier to understand. There was an assault on Thirty-third Street with two people injured, one on Fifth with four victims. A mutilated body was found in the bathroom of the Empire State. From what Dan could tell, there was more trouble than there were cops.

A woman darted across the street up the road, she was trying to run in high heels, swinging her purse as she went. There was a man chasing her, stumbling with his arms reaching. Dicky hit the gas, cutting the wheel so the police cruiser was aimed at the man.

The hood dented on impact and blood splashed the windshield, they felt the sickening thump, thump, as the body slipped under the vehicle.

"Dat no good," Barns said, "dat no good at all!"

Dan grabbed his seatbelt so tight that his knuckles were turning white. Was this cop crazy, he wondered, was the situation really bad enough to start running people down with cars?

Dicky turned on the windshield wipers so he could see through the blood and kept going, his face displaying no emotion.

For the most part, the city portrayed no image of what was happening. The vast majority of streets were going on as if everything were normal. People were out shopping, hailing cabs, selling CDs on the corner. Other than the one man Dicky had run over, and the assault reports on the radio, everything seemed fine.

Dicky kept his flashers on, still some of the New York traffic refused to get out of the way. Four taxis and a Camaro forced them to drive over the curb on the last corner before the police station. The people on the sidewalk looked healthy, thankfully.  Dicky slowed to allow them to get out of the way.

As soon as they stopped, Dicky was out of the car and running into the large brick building labeled "Police." By the time Dan got Barns out of the back, he was already through the big wooden doors and out of sight.

Dan made one last survey of the city as they crossed the curb to the doors. The sun was coming out but the street they were on was still covered in shadow. Everybody was calm, walking along, doing their own thing. Dan just wanted to scream, "What the fuck is the matter with you, run for your lives!" but he knew that would do no good at all. Most likely it would just convince people that he was a crazy person.

Only on the inside of the police station could he tell something was wrong. Paperwork was scattered everywhere as if there had been a giant wrestling match right in the middle of the place. All the police and a few men in street clothes were running back and forth, relaying messages and carrying random supplies. It was hard to walk through without bumping shoulders with somebody rushing by. They had a handful of the sick, chained and handcuffed to chairs against one wall. The sick hissed and chomped at the cops as they walked by. Their skin was ripped and bleeding from where they kept yanking against the hand cuffs.

Dan found Dicky in an office towards the back.

"When will the riot force be ready?" Dicky asked a man whom Dan could not see from his position outside the door.

"Riot force?" a gruff voice asked from inside. "And where the hell do you want me to deploy them?"

"Anywhere damn it, you are about to lose control!"

"If you are suggesting I can't handle a few drug addicts …"

"This isn't a bunch of people on drugs, it is spreading like a disease!" Dicky snapped, "You would see it if you got off your ass and left your office."

"You are out of line, Officer Dickerson! I could have your badge if I wanted, don't forget that."

Dicky's hands were balled into fists, "Listen here, you little bald-headed fuck, if your daddy wasn't in the government you would be cleaning up somebody else's piss for a living."

"Dis ain't no good neither," Barns whispered to Dan. "Ain't nothin’ been good all damn day!"

"You have no clue what you are doing," Dicky continued. "And until you do, we are all fucked!"

"Your gun and your badge, right now, Officer Dickerson!"

Dicky unholstered his gun but instead of handing it over, he cocked it and aimed deeper into the room to where Dan could not see.

"I already shot my partner today, what the fuck makes you think I won't shoot a piece of shit like you?"

This solidified it; Dan was certain that Dicky was a lunatic.

"We got to go, Dan, we got to go!" Barns whispered.

Dan held up his hand for him to wait, "Let's just see what happens."

Dicky was just standing there, staring down the barrel of his gun.

"Easy, Dicky, you know I have to hold my authority or this whole place will fall apart," said the now shaky voice, from deeper In the room.

"I'm about to walk out of here," said Dicky. "But mark my words, when the shit starts to hit the fan, send out the riot police." He holstered his gun and headed for the door. "Come on," he said to Dan and Barns as he passed.

They were halfway across the room when they heard a man scream, "Somebody stop Officer Dickerson from leaving this building!"

Dan glanced around nervously. In the midst of all the cops running around, nobody seemed to notice or care what the chief had just said. They made it outside and into the blood-covered police cruiser without being stopped.

"Where are we going now?" Dan asked once they were moving.

"We are getting the fuck out of this city," said Dicky, looking straight ahead.

Looking out the window, Dan could still not tell that anything was wrong. It actually seemed calm, as if everybody had agreed not to panic. Though they were in the wake of one storm, an entirely different storm loomed on the horizon.

Dicky stopped the car as they passed a man shambling down the sidewalk. As he moved for the car, Dan was aware of his cold gray eyes, his dead features. He was one of the infected.

Dicky waited for him to get slightly closer and then shot right through the open window. The bullet hit in the upper right side of the man’s head, the back of his skull exploded and he dropped right there in the street.

Dicky put the car back into drive and pulled away without commenting on what had just happened.

"You sure do like dat gun," Barns commented.

"Not that we mind, we don't mind at all, officer," said Dan, nudging Barns to try and stop him from provoking the cop that had gone crazy.

Two blocks later, as the police cruiser plowed through the dark shadows of the buildings, flying through strips of sunlight at every intersection, they spotted another sick person. This one was another block to their right, a stumbling man chasing after a woman and her stroller. It was Barns who had spotted it.

"Save da baby!" he yelled.

Dicky yanked the wheel as soon as he realized what was going on. He hit the sirens and they hauled ass down the street, only stopping once the sickly man had been run over.

The hysterical woman thanked them, although she seemed a little distressed over the manner in which she had been saved. Dicky nodded his condolences and then turned to continue on their original path.

Dan was the first to spot the next one. It was a woman in a long black dress, kneeling down and feasting on the body of a man in a tux.

"There is one, eleven o’clock," Dan said.

"Got it," Dicky said, pulling up to the curb and sticking his gun out the window. He killed the woman first, and for good measure, put a bullet in the man’s head.

As they pulled away, Dan watched the two bodies lying on top of each other. They matched, there was a good chance that they had started this day out together. Two star-crossed lovers enjoying life, only to have it all end in tragedy.

"Oh man, I bet they havin’ a hell of a time at the commune," said Barns as if he had just had an epiphany.

Dan couldn't help but bet none of the people there had made it. That had been where it all started. "I'm sure they are fine, Barns. Those people are used to things being rough."

"Yea, dat true," said Barns, "they skin is tuff!"

"It’s everybody else who is in trouble." Dan's words faded with the cruiser’s engine like the unwanted prediction of an oracle.

"I be a lot happier ’bout this situation if we had some flip flop."

"Me too, Barns, me too."

They turned a corner and soon found themselves winding their way towards the Lincoln tunnel.

The tunnel was dark; it looked to Dan like the mouth of a beast waiting to swallow them whole.

As he sat there, the tunnel entrance getting closer and closer, he had a thought.

This is what it must feel like to approach the gates of hell.