Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) (37 page)

Read Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) Online

Authors: Shana Festa

Tags: #undead, #zombie, #horror, #plague, #dystopian fiction, #zombie apocalypse, #zombie infection, #science fiction, #zombie novels, #zombie books

BOOK: Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel)
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We leaned in close to one another in front of
the metal door to the stairwell.

"There's no telling what it's like in there,"
reported Forbes. "Wilson will open the door and I'll take a quick
look in. Tom, how close does something need to be for Boss to sense
it?"

"If there's anything on the first few
landings he'll let us know," replied the cop.

"No time better than the present, Wilson."
Forbes readied himself for the door to open, opting to raise his
firearm rather than the baton. I held my breath and brought BB up,
clutching the steel rod to my chest.

The door opened and Wilson jumped out of the
way to allow Forbes a clear path. Weapon held firm, the scout
looked down at the calm dog, and stepped into the stairwell. Time
seemed to stand still until he came into view again.

"Clear," he whispered.

 

* * *

 

Something rustled on the stairs above us, and
Boss chuffed once but didn't growl or tense. We took Tom's word on
faith and ascended the stairs quietly. The path to the second floor
was blissfully empty, and the men went through the same procedure
upon opening the door. Much to my relief, nothing waited on the
other side except stark white walls and flooring.

Closing the door behind us, Garnett, the
third man not yet heard from, whistled softly.

"This place looks pristine," he observed.
"Think we'll get lucky and it'll be clear?"

"From your lips to God's ears," I muttered
under my breath.

The surgical center was for staff and
unconscious patients so there was no need to decorate it with
cheesy paintings or soothing paint colors. The simplicity was
refreshing.

"Pharmacy is up there on the left," I said,
finding our location on the wall map. "It should have everything we
need. The only thing we may need to find elsewhere is the
insulin."

Lady luck was with us today, and the Gods had
looked upon us favorably. Everything on the list was stocked and I
did my little happy dance. Like an eager trick-or-treater, I filled
the canvas tote with necessities, and threw in the entire stock of
Motrin for good measure.

Back in the stairwell, we were just as happy
to find that the owner of the rustling we'd heard the first time
hadn't rolled out the welcome mat for us. We stood at the door to
the main floor while Garnett pressed his ear to the cold metal and
listened for any unwanted company on the other side.

"Sounds clear," he said at the same time Boss
stiffened and growled.

We all turned, poised to attack, and found
nothing behind us.

"What is it, boy?" whispered Tom.

The dog growled at the stairs again.

"I think your dog is cracking under the
pressure, man," quipped Wilson. He walked to the open area before
the first step and waved his arms. "Nothing's there, Boss."

And our luck ran out.

Like a suicide jumper, a body fell from
above, landing on Wilson and knocking him to the floor. I screamed,
and the sound echoed in the enclosed space. Moans from above
answered my startled cry, but they were barely audible above
Wilson's screams of pain and terror.

"Get it off!" he shrieked.

Garnett and Forbes rushed into the fray, one
pulling the zombie off Wilson by its legs while the other bashed
its head in with a metal pipe. We all backed away from Wilson, who
looked down at his chest in horror. The zombie had bitten through
his shirt, exposing his pectoral muscle. Blood flowed freely from
the wound.

"Oh, fuck!" he cried in panic.

The moans of undead were closer and louder,
and if we didn't get moving soon we'd have company.

"Come on," shouted Garnett. His eyes were
wild with panic and darted around at the slightest movement.

Without thinking, he pulled open the door and
left us there, running straight instead of left, back the way we
came.

I jogged a few steps and yelled to him.
"Garnett, Stop! You're going the wrong way!"

Tom struggled to hold the dog back from
sprinting up the stairs while grabbing the back pocket of my
pants.

"Stop," he urged, his voice husky from
physical exertion. "He's running toward the emergency room. If he
opens that door, the floodgates will open."

Forbes supported Wilson and helped him out of
the stairwell, managing to get the door secured before the first
zombie reached us.

"Oh, shit!" he cried. "Go! Go! Go!"

Garnett had reached the double doors without
pausing and slammed them open with his shoulder without stopping.
The last thing I saw before being shoved from behind to move was a
crowd of undead in various states of dress and decay swarm him to
the floor. His screams echoed in the hall and a mob of undead
spilled into the hall and began their pursuit of the rest of
us.

We ran back the way we came in, straight
through the door to the main lobby of the hospital. A small group
that had been left behind to keep the lobby clear turned weapons on
us as we crashed through the door, looking alarmed at our chaotic
entrance and bloodied clothes.

"Get outside!" bellowed Forbes, and the men
followed the order without question.

Once through, one of the men jammed a rock
into the revolving door, effectively sealing the exit from the
zombies that began gathering at the windows. They pushed and shoved
their way to the forefront, each trying to get at the meal beyond
the glass.

"Where's Garnett?" asked the one who had
passed out group assignments.

"That fucking idiot opened Pandora's box and
unleashed Hell," panted Forbes.

Wilson slumped against a truck door,
breathing heavily and wincing from pain.

"Jesus, man." One of the men bent down beside
Wilson and inspected his chest.

The injured man clutched at his shirt,
twisting it in his clenched fists.

"Just do it," he cried out. "I don't want to
end up their guinea pig. Don't let them do it." He coughed and
bloody sputum ran down his chin.

The kneeling man looked up at their leader,
who nodded to him, and without a word, the guardsman put his pistol
to Wilson's temple and pulled the trigger.

I stumbled back, causing Boss to yelp when I
stepped on his paw.

"What did he mean?" I asked the men. "A
guinea pig for who?"

Forbes answered quickly. "Nothing. The
infection must have already been making him delirious."

The leader fixed me in his gaze. "Mind your
business, nurse," he snarled. "Did you get your job done?"

I was too frightened to speak and responded
with a timid nod.

Jake stepped forward. "Come on, Tate. Don't
talk to her like that."

"Pack it up. We're done here," Tate ordered,
ignoring Jake's pathetic attempt to come to my defense.

Epilogue: I See You

 

The drive back to Asylum was mercifully uneventful. I
closed my eyes and pretended to sleep so I didn't have to make
conversation with Tom. Not that I didn't want to talk to him
specifically, I just wasn't in the mood.

I handed him the bag of meds. "Can you see
that Mack gets this please? I just want to shower and go lay
down."

"No problem."

I went straight to my bedroom and undressed.
Back in autopilot mode, I stood under the water, not caring that it
wasn't warm yet when I stepped into the tub. Thinking about
Wilson's last words, I wondered if there was anything to it or if
he really had been suffering from delirium.

How long I let the water spill over me was
anyone's guess, but when I retreated to my tiny bedroom, I curled
up in the pajamas Michele had given me on arrival and fell asleep
with the door open. I woke to the sound of Daphne's whine. The room
was dark, and I fumbled for the light.

With the closet lit up, I looked out into the
bigger room. Meg and Jah were asleep in their beds. Jake had heeded
my advice and found somewhere else to sleep. I'd slept through
dinner and had no idea what time it was.

Meg stirred. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything's okay," I whispered.
"Daphne has to tinkle. Go back to sleep."

She sat up, rubbing her eyes with her shirt.
"I'll come with."

In the dark, four flights of stairs is a
treacherous journey. Especially with an impatient dog. Meg held the
banister, I held onto Meg, and Daphne squirmed in my arms.

The chill in the air set my teeth to
shattering as soon as we stepped onto the patio. My bare feet
registered the icy bricks beneath them, and I hopped from one foot
to the other.

"Holy crap! Why didn't I wear shoes?" I
hissed.

Meg was doing the same hopping dance and
rubbed fervently at her exposed arms.

"Oh, my God. Let the damn dog pee already.
I'm turning into a Meg-cicle!"

I walked over to the edge of the patio and
bent down to set Daphne on the grass but stopped when a set of
headlights illuminated the moonless night. Still crouched, I hugged
the dog to me for warmth and watched as the lights grew brighter
and approached the mansion.

Meg stepped up behind me. "Who is it?" she
asked, like I knew any more than she did. Her question brought to
mind a decade of watching movies with her, and it made me smile. It
never failed; we would sit down to watch a new movie and throughout
the entire thing she would lean over and ask me questions like,
what is that for or why are they doing that? The first few times I
would reply that I didn't know. Sometimes I would even give my best
guess, but I would always reach my limit of questions around the
halfway point and say Meg, I don't know any more than you do. What
am I, psychic?

"It's a van," she whispered. "White."

I stifled a chuckle and the urge to thank her
for being Captain Obvious. "I know that van," I said. "It was one
of the vehicles they took to the hospital today."

My brow furrowed. Why would they be out this
late? They say ignorance is bliss. If only Daphne had woke me up
fifteen minutes earlier. Some events can shake a person right down
to their very core, and this was one of them.

Had the van pulled up to the mansion just two
feet to the left, it would have caught us in its headlights like
frozen deer. We got lucky, because if they knew we bore witness to
their delivery, our existence would have been snuffed out.

The doors opened, and four members of the
Guard exited the vehicle and congregated by the hood. Someone, I
couldn't tell who because of our location, opened the side door
that led to the basement and I heard muffled voices.

Dr. Chen stepped into the lit area and spoke
to the group of men. We weren't close enough to hear what was said,
but upon hearing his words, the Guardsmen moved as a group to the
side door of the van and slid it open.

"What are they doing?" Meg asked, the sound
of her voice making me stiffen.

"Shh!"' I demanded, as loud as I dared.
Daphne wriggled in my arms, reminding me she wanted to get down. I
hugged her tighter and pressed my lips below her ear, soothing her
with the vibration of my soft cooing against her fur.

Two of the men disappeared into the blackness
of the van and reappeared, backing out slowly with metal rods held
firmly in two-hand grips. My knees burned from the prolonged
crouching position, but I ignored the pain, not wanting to catch
their attention with any movement.

A hand shot out of the open door followed by
an arm, a leg, and finally the pallid face of a snarling zombie. I
felt Meg's grip as her fingers squeezed my right arm hard enough to
make me wince. The zombie stumbled out of the van and fell to the
grass on its knees. Two more rods became visible from behind and
the wranglers in front dragged it forward, tilting its neck at an
awkward angle.

The men kept their faces down, intently
focused on the zombie, making it impossible to identify them. The
remaining men exited the van, and with a concerted effort, lifted
the zombie to its feet while it swiped erratically in the direction
of the closest living flesh. The lead team began backing toward the
basement door, guided by Dr. Chen. The headlights disappeared as
they passed and blinked in and out as a new form cut through the
high beams.

The first of the two men securing the poles
at the zombies back stepped into the light, and I recognized Forbes
instantly. My heart sank. I'd trusted this man with my life only
hours ago, and here he was taking part in something deplorable. The
light blinked out again as he passed through it and when it came
back on, the last of the men became visible.

Meg and I both gasped loudly upon seeing
Jake's face illuminated by the headlights. I blinked rapidly to
clear my vision, and willed my eyes to stop playing tricks on me. I
could blink a thousand times, though, and it would still be Jake.
Meg's hands flew to her face and she pressed them over her lips and
tried to stifle a strangled cry as she shook her head in
denial.

Jake looked in our direction at hearing Meg's
hushed cry. His eyes scanned the darkness around us and stopped
when his gaze locked with mine. I'd seen him, and he'd seen me see
him. I saw his eyes widen in surprise upon recognition, but he
looked away when Forbes spoke and disappeared through the side
door. Like the final nail in a coffin, the metal door slammed shut
behind them, leaving Meg and I alone kneeling on the patio.

The breath hitched in my throat and hazy
black spots clouded my vision, creating comet trails each time I
blinked. I fell back onto my ass, too stunned to register the pain
in my coccyx.

Daphne wiggled free from my grasp and
relieved herself quickly on the grass before returning to my arms.
She shivered or maybe it was me. I don't know. Perhaps it was all
three of us, huddled together for support.

"Why?" Meg murmured over and over from beside
me. Her body shook with sobs.

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