Werewolf Suspense (Book 4): Outage 4 (The Reckoning) (2 page)

"Yes. Some are seriously injured, but no one seems to have been bitten."

Tom nodded with relief. He looked instinctively at his bandaged leg.

"How's it feeling?" Kelsey asked, leaning down to inspect his bandage.

"I'm sore, but I'll live."
 

"That must've been some nasty glass you cut it on."

"It was." Tom winced at his memory of the Knights of Columbus basement. He could still envision the creature he'd successfully fought off. "How are the police doing on the roads?"

"Most are using four-wheel-drive vehicles, but a few are using cruisers. One of the survivors was a bus driver, so he's using a school bus to pick up survivors. We're running on one generator, as you probably heard. I'm not sure when the power will be restored."

Tom bit his lip. He'd been through some major storms in the past, and it'd always taken a while to get everything reestablished. And that was under normal circumstances, without bloodthirsty creatures ravaging the town, killing the residents.

Kelsey took the blood pressure cuff off and scratched numbers on her chart.

"How's everything look?" he asked.
 

"Your blood pressure's a little high, but I wouldn't expect any less, after the night you've had. I'm going to take your temperature, and then I'll let you rest some more while I move on to other patients."

"Of course. I appreciate your help." Tom winced as she put her instrument down. His leg was still sore. "There're only three nurses up here, right?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, none of the doctors survived. Hopefully, we'll get some help soon. If more survivors come in, we'll need it."

"I understand."

Kelsey retrieved a thermometer from the drawer, removed the protective wrapping, and stuck it under Tom's tongue. He envisioned the scene in the rest of the hospital. Although he hadn't witnessed the chaos, he pictured what the other floors might look like, filled with carnage. Thankfully, the survivors had been brought up in the elevator and had been spared most of it.

He remembered the story he'd heard about Kelsey and the other nurses. According to one of the policemen, they'd survived by hiding in a storage closet. The only reason they'd lasted is because the beasts had run out of moonlight.

"It sounded like you were a big help to the police," Kelsey said, giving him a warm smile. "That's what Officer Dickson told me. He said you had a lot of good information."

"I told them what I could."

"They appreciate it." The thermometer beeped, and Kelsey took it out. "Looks good. I'll keep checking up on you."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

After finishing her procedures, Kelsey excused herself, and Tom watched her walk from the room. As much as he disliked hospitals, watching the nurse do her rounds gave him a sense of stability that he'd been missing for the past day. He heard her voice in the next room as she visited another patient.
 

Tom sighed.

He thought back to the night he'd endured. Just twelve hours ago, he'd been hunkered in the Knights of Columbus, waiting to die. He still wasn't sure how he'd made it. How any of them had. It was a miracle, one he didn't fully understand.
 

He was grateful.

Noticing an open door across the hallway, Tom got off the bed and headed for it. His hospital gown swung loosely behind him. He was tired, but he didn't feel like sleeping.

He wanted to check on the others.

Tom shivered as he made his way across the hospital room. When he reached the threshold, he stuck his head into the hallway. The nurses were busy with patients. Officer Dickson was getting on the elevator, talking on his radio.

Hoping to avoid a scolding, Tom hurried across the hall, hospital socks gripping the marble floor. The hallway was surprisingly clean, except for dirt and snow tracks on the floor where the survivors had been brought in. Several nurses' carts were stationed nearby, filled with charts, drinks, and medical instruments. There were nine other doors in the wing, aside from the elevator. Most of them were open.

 
He kept alert for familiar voices, hoping to find Abraham, Sally, Katherine, and Silas. He peered into the room across the hall. A bearded man he didn't recognize lay on a bed, his eyes closed. He didn't stir. For a moment, Tom envisioned one of the creatures he'd killed in Colton's basement, after it'd reverted to human form. He shuddered. The man bore only a faint resemblance. He continued to the next doorway. The next room contained a young couple, holding hands on the bed. They nodded gravely as Tom passed by. Tom continued searching the floor.

After heading down an offshoot wing, he finally heard familiar voices.

"Abraham?"

Tom peeked around a doorway and encountered Abraham leaning against the wall. Sally was perched on the bed next to Silas and Katherine, who were leafing through magazines. They all looked up as Tom entered. Their faces were no longer dirty and pale; it appeared they'd washed up. Despite their improved condition, there was an undercurrent of nervousness in the room.

"This place is like a maze," Tom joked.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Sally asked, with a smile.

Tom shrugged. "I wanted to make sure everyone was all right."

"That's nice of you," Sally said.

"We're hanging in there," said Abraham. "How about you, Tom?"

"I'm doing well."

Abraham scratched his chin, which seemed to have sprouted stubble since Tom last saw him. His eyes were baggy and bloodshot.
 

"I can't believe I slept so long," Tom said. He recalled settling into the hospital bed, fighting off the ghastly images. It'd taken a while for him to lose consciousness.

"We checked on you a few times, but you were out cold," Sally explained. "They brought some more survivors in a few hours ago. There are thirty of us now."

"That's what I heard," Tom said. "My nurse—Kelsey—said if they kept bringing people in at this rate, they'd have to figure out where to put us all." Tom forced a smile.
 

"This isn't the biggest hospital," Abraham agreed, looking around the room. "Especially with the other floors out of commission. But there are some empty wings, as of now. They're keeping us close together, so they can keep a better watch over us."

Tom's attention shifted to the children. "How're you holding up?"

Katherine, the older sibling, fiddled with her magazine, tucking her long brown hair behind her ears. "We're doing okay."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Silas stared at Tom, his blue eyes wide and hopeful. His head was covered with a shock of blond hair. "The nurse said more people are coming. I bet my parents are with them."

Tom forced a smile. The child's words tugged at his heart. "I'm sure they are." Tom looked away before his eyes could betray his doubt. He was pretty sure their parents were dead. He'd scarcely paid attention to the children earlier. He'd been too preoccupied with relaying his story to the officers. Katherine was about eleven years old, Silas about six. They were cute kids.

Realizing Abraham was watching him, Tom turned his attention to the older man. "Can I speak with you in the hall, Abraham?" he asked.

"Sure thing," Abraham said. He turned to face Sally, who was watching them intently. "We'll be right back," Abraham reassured her.

Tom and Abraham stepped out into the hallway. With the nurses out of sight and Officer Dickson gone, Tom blew a breath. "I just wanted to see if you knew anything else, Abraham. The nurses seem pretty busy. I heard there are no doctors left."

"No, they didn't survive," Abraham said gravely.
 

"Have you turned on the news?"

"I did for a bit, but I turned it off so it wouldn't upset the children." Abraham winced. Up close, Abraham was more aged than Tom had first thought. Wrinkles lined his cheeks and the corners of his eyes. He was probably in his mid-sixties.
 

"What did you find out?" Tom asked.

"There are reports from all over the place. New England looks like a war zone. Pretty much every town has a skeleton crew. The government is sending help, but it'll take a while, given how widespread this thing is. It's difficult to travel, and resources will need to be spread out."

"I know the nurses here could use some help."

"They're pretty overworked," Abraham continued. "There are a few people with severe injuries. A man down the hall lost most of his arm. The things tore it off. The nurses stabilized him until more help arrives. He'll need surgery."

Tom nodded. "It sounds like there aren't many of us left in town."

"The police said everyone on the lower floors was killed." Abraham sighed.
 

"That's what I heard. I can only imagine what the nurses went through."

"Have you seen Al since he dropped us off?"

"No, I haven't," Tom answered. "He's probably out with the rest of the surviving police officers, searching for survivors."

"It must have been a chore clearing the lower floors. They had to make sure those things weren't inside, then shut off most of the lights so they'd conserve the remaining generator."

"I don't envy that job." Tom peered back into the room. Silas and Katherine were engaged in conversation with Sally. Confirming that they were distracted, he asked, "Any idea what happened to their parents?"

"From what I gather, their parents were in the house when the creatures attacked. Their father tried shooting one of the things, but it kept coming. At the last minute, their mother and father pushed them out the back door and they ran."

"Jesus," Tom muttered.

"If they hadn't hidden in the trees, they wouldn't have made it." Abraham stared at the floor. "They were lucky."

"It's great you're taking care of them."

"We're doing what we can. They remind me of my grandchildren. A few years ago, my daughter and her family relocated to London. We miss the kids dearly."

"At least they're not here." Tom gestured across the hall, toward one of the windows. He sighed. "I can't imagine returning home after all this."

"Which street do you live on, Tom? We probably live right near each other."

"I live on Tomlinson. It's off Pickney. Do you know where that is?"

"Sure do. We're on Mayflower, in a little house behind the bowling alley. We've been there for years. I'm surprised we never ran into each other."

"We probably have. Who knows, it's a small town." Tom shrugged as he scanned the hallway. "Well, I should probably get back to my room before the nurses get after me."

"I appreciate you checking on us," Abraham said gratefully.

"You got it."

Tom turned around. He exhaled as he thought about the children, whose parents had most likely been killed. It was nice of Abraham and Sally to look after them. But who would look after the children when things settled?

He'd only gone a few feet when a faint cry sounded from somewhere on the floor.

Startled, Tom ground to a halt. He listened, but the hallway was quiet, save some beeps and muffled conversation. For a second, he wondered if he was flashing back to the incidents he'd lived through, or if his pain medication was too strong. It wasn't until Abraham came out of the doorway that he believed the sound was real.
 

"What was that?" Abraham hissed.

"I'm not sure."

They stood rigidly in place, their attention roaming the hall. The cry came again.

Louder.

Adrenaline flowing, Tom and Abraham started toward the source of the noise. It was coming from the wing where Tom's room was located. They rounded the corner, listening to the cry increase in volume. They passed by the elevators where Tom had seen Officer Dickson, then a few open rooms, staring at the glowing exit sign at the far end of the hallway. The exit door was closed. The noise sounded like it was coming from a room about halfway down the corridor.

Several frightened occupants glared at Tom and Abraham from their beds, startled awake. They watched Tom and Abraham as if they might know what was going on. Tom continued without a word.

The cry made his heart pound in his chest.

"It's definitely coming from that room down there," Abraham said, pointing.
 

Common sense kicking in, Tom halted. He patted his loose hospital gown. He had no weapons. The police had his ammunition from the KOC, though he didn't see any officers nearby. Where was Officer Dickson?

He went down in the elevator.

For a moment, Tom considered searching for the officer, but someone might need help
now
, and he didn't see any nurses.

Tom and Abraham crept closer to the doorway, straining to make out the interior. Tom saw the room a section at a time: the walls, the television, the cabinets, the bed. A man was sitting at the edge of his mattress with his back turned. He covered his face with his hands, shaking.

"Is he alone?" Abraham hissed.

"I don't see anyone else," Tom whispered.

Tom relaxed, but not by much. They took a few more cautious steps, confirming the man wasn't with anyone—or any
thing
—else. It wasn't until they were closer that Tom realized the man's cries weren't sounds of pain, but moans of grief. The fear in Tom's stomach settled.

"Sir, are you all right?" Tom called into the room.

The man stopped shaking, but he remained in place. He kept his back to them. After a few seconds, he dropped his hands to his side and looked over his shoulder. He was in his forties, with a day's worth of patchy beard and shaggy, greasy hair. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes bloodshot. He wore a hospital gown, like Tom's.

"They're gone," he moaned. "My whole family…my wife, my son… They're all dead."

Tom noticed the rumpled sheets. The man must've woken up and recalled what had happened. Tom felt a stab of sympathy. No consolation would mend the man's wounds. He knew that all too well.

"I can't believe it's real," the man grieved.

"I understand," Tom tried, crossing the room and sitting on the bed next to him. "We've all lost someone."