Zombologist Book 1 Zombie Hunters (Zomboligist Series) (16 page)

BOOK: Zombologist Book 1 Zombie Hunters (Zomboligist Series)
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MISSING BOY AT HOSPITAL

Or

SEARCH FOR MISSING BOY CONTINUES

 

“Where was the last place you saw him?” Kelsey asked
innocently.

“Upstairs, in his room. He was heavily restrained, I’ve
never seen anyone as strong as that kid was, and even grown men on psychotic
lockdown were not that strong, or as violent.”

“How violent was he?”

“Oh my, he was extremely violent and uncontrollable, biting
everyone he could before they strapped him into his bed.  It was truly horrible
to watch.”

“Well, let’s start there then; perhaps we can retrace his
steps.” Kelsey said as the two headed for the stairwell door.

“Alright. Let’s take the stairs; I can sneak you in the
back hallway.”

The back hallway was dark, and completely empty. The girls
began opening doors and looking for the missing boy. Kelsey found time to remove
her cell from her purse and record some of the search.

“Hey, by the way, what were you in the ER for?”

“Strep. My son had it and it looks like he gave it to me.”

“Really? I have a son too, Sammie and fortunately for you,
I have amoxicillin in my locker, just in case. Come on, that’s the least I can
do for you.”

The women ending the search temporarily, headed back down
the stairwell into the basement. As they entered the hallway Kelsey couldn’t
help but notice the dirt and grime and hint of decay. The women’s locker room
was located in oldest section of hospital. It was absolutely disgusting.

“Excuse they mess, they have been remodeling in here for
almost a year now.”

Kelsey nods, eyeing the grime and dust littering the hall
way. Most areas are sealed off by heavy plastic sheets.

“How old is this hospital?”

“As far as I know it was built in the early 20’s. Here we
go.” Nurse Bentley said as she opened a solid wooden door with a small window
inserted near the top. “Keep the door open will you; this area gives me the
creeps. By the way, my name is Marci”

“Kelsey,” The other woman replied eyeing the rows of
lockers, benches and concrete floor. “I hope they can give you a more
accommodating locker room. This one is really outdated.”

“Here you go,” Marci said handing her the amoxicillin.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it; I had been waiting for
nearly three hours. Why the long wait anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know. I know we’ve been understaffed
and with that boy on the loose… There are a lot of Doctors and nurses talking to
the police too.”

“The police?” Kelsey quickly and carefully hit the switch
on her cell to record.

Marci nodded, “Yes, several people were brought in earlier
with the weirdest symptoms I’ve ever saw. They had been bitten at a neighborhood
BBQ where someone’s kid, the missing boy, starting biting the guests. It’s just
plain crazy. The people he bit came down with the same symptoms of the illness
and several died.

“Well, at least we thought they had died, I mean, at first
they were just dead, no pulse, no heart beat but on the way to the morgue two
‘woke up’ and attacked the orderlies. Then the person who runs the morgue
started complaining that people were walking out on him. Like
that
ever
happens” Marci looked at Kelsey now and took her hand holding the amoxicillin in
hers.

 “There is something very odd going on. Please be careful.”

Kelsey nodded and said, “I will Nurse Bentley, I mean
Marci, and you be careful too. You know, there is a new street drug out, from
Russia that is similar to Heroin. But the effects are like a flesh eating virus
and the results are a vile, stinking horrid mess of rotting flesh. I wonder if
it is somehow responsible. That maybe instead of creating the rotting flesh, the
victim is compelled to eat flesh instead. Well, that sounds crazy doesn’t it? I
guess I’m just reaching.”

“I don’t know, but I’m scared. Well, come on, let’s get out
of here.” Marci said as she stepped into the hallway. Suddenly she stopped mid
stride, causing Kelsey to almost run into her. She yelled
STOP
at the top
of her lungs and threw her hands into the air.

Kelsey pushed her forward a bit to see who she was yelling
at. A teenager was just a few feet down the hall walking into the construction
site. His gown was open and Kelsey could see that his buttocks and legs were
streaked with blood.

Marci took off after the boy with Kelsey close behind. She
quickly brought her iPhone into focus and began recording.  

The boy stopped.

“My god, what happened?” Marci asked as she reached the
boy. She touched his shoulder to turn him toward her, when she heard the snarls.

She quickly pulled back her hand but it was too late. He
turned and lunged at her throwing himself into her, knocking her backwards, her
head slamming into the concrete wall. The boy who used to be Marco, wastes no
time trapping her against the wall tearing chunks of flesh from her arms and
shoulder.

She tries to push against him but the blow to her head
leaves her weak and confused. Marci sags and slips to the floor. As quick as
lightening the boy is on top of her tearing her stomach apart. Just as quick he
digs his hands into her and begins to pull the slippery intestines from her body
shoving them into his mouth.   

Kelsey drops her phone to go to her new friend’s aid. She
grabs the boy by the shoulders and pulls him away from Marci. With strength and
resolve she didn’t know she had, she smashed the kids face into the concrete
wall. Hard. She heard a loud crack as his head split open. He dropped to the
floor like a rotten sack of potatoes.

She dropped to Marci’s side her hospital smock already
soaked with blood. “Come on, let’s get out of here and get you some help.”

Marci only groaned. She shook her head and pulled Kelsey
close. She began whispering. “It’s too late for me, I, I, Please, I have a son.
Please find him. My ahhh…” Marci broke into violent trembling and a harsh cough
and blood erupted from her mouth. Her eyes opened wide as she tried to breath.
Kelsey gave her a few minutes then when Marci was able to take a few gargling
breaths she said, “My address is 514- 12
th
Street. His name is
Samuel. He doesn’t have anyone else. Just me. His father died..a year ago.
Promise me.”

Kelsey squeezed her hand and promised.

With that Nurse Bentley passed out.

 Kelsey searched for her iPhone; she needed it to call
9/11. Damn, she was in a hospital and she was calling 9/11. She found her cell
lying in a pile of sack cloth and debris. It was still recording.

Kelsey hit rewind and was amazed to find that when she
dropped it, it fell at the perfect angle, recording everything that had just
happened. 

She began to giggle. Giggles soon turned into laughter,
then to tears as the horror began to set in. Kelsey, struggling through sobs and
before she could reconsider, began the upload the recording to YouTube. She then
sent a message to her co-worker at the newspaper to watch for it and run with
it.

As she ran toward the stair to get help, she realized three
things, One, she would be on tape murdering a boy. Two, she could prove self
defense. Three, this was a sensational story.

 

 

****

 

On the west coast, the pharmaceutical giant, Collin Demase
was having a few problems of his own with the undead. And as if that wasn’t
enough, outside a handful of protesters were bringing unwanted attention to his
company. One of his stimulants, Terrephanidroloxin, was causing a semi-permanent
erection accompanied by a fearfully strong libido that was infuriating thousands
of wives across the country. He had 17 companies spread across the world, and
this was the one they chose to protest at. He glanced at the monitor on the
desk. Great, now the media was arriving.

He had never seen a protest on a late Sunday afternoon, but
that is exactly what was happening outside. Lucky for him though, the building
appeared empty from the outside.

Well that was the least of his worries.

Demase looked down at the research laboratory below his
spacious above floor observatory known as -the control tower.

The reason he wouldn’t let
the society
see his
specimen was directly below him. One scientist had been careless and left a cage
door open. The escaping zombie had quickly turned 11 of his best scientists into
the undead and the repercussions from
the society
would have been severe
had they known. He had barely locked down the building and made it to his estate
before they arrived yesterday.

Another reason
the society
must never see his
collection was that he had had bought several more zombies that
the society
wasn’t even aware of; and must never be aware of. He had purchased them
separately over the years from a collector in Arizona and had slipped them into
the holding pens in the middle of the night. Yes, the trade was bigger than the
society could ever realize.

He watched from the window of his control tower at the
scene below.  His California research lab was in near shambles.

His fully staffed research center used to be filled with
the most intelligent minds in the universe, but now it was filled with nothing
more than a bunch of walking corpses. As he watched them tear into another one
of his most intelligent micro-scientist, he didn’t see the act as cruel or
violent. He didn’t even notice the look of pleading in the man’s eyes as he look
up at the control center and shouted, pleaded with Demase to help him. All he
saw were lost dollar signs. They were trapped down there in the laboratory. If
he could cure them then he would control the cure. He would be the most powerful
man in the entire world.

They barely had time to find out what they were studying,
two years was hardly enough time. The virus kept changing. Just when they
thought they were close to a cure, it would accelerate, merge with the vaccine
and then destroy it. Now, because of the carelessness of one scientist, he
needed to hire a cleanup crew and cover his tracks. But now he had more zombies
than test subjects. Problems… problems.

But, where did that zombie from South America go?

He made a mental note to call the families of the newly
turned Zombies to tell them that he had sent them on a special mission out of
the country. He would find an excuse later for their deaths - plane crash
perhaps?

Well, he could worry about that later.

He needed to call and get some more ‘volunteers’ to test
the vaccine on. He would find them, sweet talk them, pay them, clothe them and
then feed them as he has done many times in the past few years. The hunt was
half the fun to him.

And then, when he had them all relaxed from the knock out
drugs in their food he would shoot them up with the antiserum.

If the antiserum didn’t kill them, then he would keep them
for further testing or introduce them to his collection.

His research staff catalogued the rate of death, the
changes before and after and the rate of time between transformations. So far
none of the vaccines worked. Damn shame.

He watched unsympathetically as Sheila scrambled from under
the desk she had been hiding under and ran toward the door.
It won’t do you
any good Sheila,
Demase thought sarcastically.
You knew the risks.
The building was on lockdown. It wouldn’t do any of them any good to try to
escape, no, not any good at all.

And then, just as Demase thought things couldn’t get any
worse, without warning, the building began to shake. It shook slowly at first,
just a few rumbles, and then it picked up strength causing the walls to shake
violently. Demase felt the tremors grow under his feet. He gripped a rolling
chair for balance as the earthquake hit. He needed to get out of the building
but couldn’t tear his eyes from the scene below.

He watched as his growing clan of undead turned toward
Sheila. She froze momentarily as they advanced. She ducked and twisted just out
of their reach. She grabbed a monitor from a desk and smashed it into the head
of one. She reached behind her feeling around for something, anything. Finally
her hands settled on a ceramic mug, she broke it and jabbed the broken pieces
into the forehead of one of her turned co-workers. Stunning. She used a pencil
and plunged it into another’s eye.

Behind the desk now she used it to push two against the
wall, pinning them. Five down, seven to go.

She was dropping them like flies.

Demase’s hands clenched.

The lights went out.

Several seconds later the emergency generators kicked on, a
feeble glow of lights slowly illuminated the scene below.

Demase quickly searched for Sheila through the
semi-darkness.

He found her just as several more were advancing upon her.
She had climbed on top of another desk and he watched in fascination as she,
with one powerful lunge jumped up and grabbed the swinging florescent light. She
hung for just a second before pulling herself on top. On her knees she reached
up and began pushing on the tiles. She found what she was looking for as she
began to hammer on it with her palms switching to using her shoulder as a
ramming rod.

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