Fall of the Seven Cities Saga (Book 1)

by Brenham, Jay

Matt and the man in board shorts collided; Board Shorts lost and went flying into the check-in desk, striking his head on the way down. The chair landed on top of him. Another man jumped on Board Shorts, trying to help Matt restrain him, but Board Shorts flailed and grabbed onto the man’s leg, sinking his teeth into his calf.

  The man went down with a scream. At the same time, Matt pulled the keyboard from the desk and wrapped the cord around Board Shorts’ neck. He pulled back with all of his strength, until the cord tore into Board Shorts’ throat. Blood went everywhere, cascading over Board Short’s chest and onto the man’s calf. Board Shorts still clenched the man’s calf in his teeth, but eventually the attacker’s jaw relaxed and his body went limp.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Matt offered a hand to the man who’d helped him, pulling him to a standing position. The other people in the waiting room were looking at them with a mixture of awe and terror.

  “Thanks for your help. I’m Matt,” Matt said, panting a little. His mind was reeling, stopping again and again on the insanity that had just played out in the waiting room.

  “Don’t mention it. I couldn’t stand by and just watch. The name’s Frank,” said the man, looking around for someone to help him with his bleeding leg.

  There was still screaming coming from the ER at the end of the hallway and Matt wondered what was happening back there. Then he realized the screaming was not only coming from deeper inside the building, but also from the male nurse whose nose had been bitten off. Now that the immediate danger was over, a few people had rushed to help the nurse. One man pulled his own shirt off and held it to the nurse’s face to halt the bleeding.

  Wondering if he could help, Matt started toward the back of the hospital. Suddenly, a group of police officers entered the ER with their guns drawn, shouting, “Police.” Some had their pistols drawn but others had shotguns and what looked like assault weapons. Matt wasn’t sure about this last part; he’d only seen guns like that on television, usually being held by soldiers or SWAT teams.

  Unlike the SWAT teams on TV, these were regular uniformed officers. Aside from the few who had the assault rifles, most of them weren’t decked out in tactical gear. They weren’t wearing fancy armor or throwing flash-bang grenades. They had their city blues and a gun. No more knowledge of what was behind the next door than Matt did. He took a step back, surprised.

  The officers assessed the situation, taking in the two dead people and the twelve or so injured. Two officers stayed behind in the waiting area, while five more pushed forward, stacking up outside the doors to the emergency room in a line. Matt backed up out of their way.

  Each officer had a hand on the others shoulder. Each officer squeezed the shoulder of the man in front of him, indicating he was ready, until the silent motion reached the first man in line.

  The first officer went around the corner, followed by the other four.

  As they disappeared around the corner Matt heard shouting.

  “Stop and put your hands in the air!”

  “Get his other hand.”

  “The fucker bit me!”

  “Look out!”

  Then there was a rapid volley of gunfire. Part of him wanted to see what was happening, but he didn’t dare check around the corner for fear of being shot.

  One of the officers who’d been left in the waiting room tried to go into the ER, but the second officer stopped him.

  “We don’t want to surprise them,” the second officer said. His head was as bald and as shiny as a cue ball. “They might mistake us for a threat,” Cue Ball added. After a pause, the second officer nodded, but Matt noticed he kept his gun free from the holster and in his hand.

  Matt raised an eyebrow. Cue Ball was a thinker, and not someone who would let his emotions get in the way. It made Matt happy to think he had no tactical training and had made the same decision that the police officers made.

  The two remaining police officers stayed where they were. “Do you guys need us?” Cue Ball yelled in the direction of the emergency room.

  “We’re okay, just hold your position,” someone called back.

  Half a minute later, Matt heard four more gunshots. The people in the waiting room flinched each time they heard a gunshot but adrenaline was still coursing through Matt’s body from fighting with the two men. To him, the gunshots sounded like a dull pop.

  A short while later the other officers returned to the waiting room with a group of nurses and doctors. Some of the nurses and doctors had injuries of their own, which had already been bandaged. All five of the officers had injuries: cuts, bite marks, and scrapes from the confrontation. The number of injured was much greater than what the emergency room had the ability to handle.

  The nurses triaged as best they could, handling the most serious wounds first. The nurse with the missing nose was taken to the back. To the man, the officers declined assistance, opting to let others get treatment first. Instead they took pictures to document their injuries and grabbed some solution for cleaning their wounds. They bandaged their injuries without assistance from the medical staff. Matt heard one officer explaining that they would need to get statements from witnesses; two different people pointed at Matt. He knew he’d need to talk to them and explain what he’d done. He had killed two men. It hit him like a lightning bolt, suddenly and with a force. He had killed two men.

  Matt saw black at the edge of his vision and suddenly the world went out of focus. He sat down hard in one of the seats.

  Sitting seemed to help. He leaned his head back against the wall. Suddenly Officer Cue Ball was by his side, a concerned look on his face. He was an average height and both his arms were covered in tattoos, which Matt found strange. Weren’t police officers supposed to be clean cut? His shirt said “R. Taylor” on it.

  “Are you alright, buddy?” Taylor asked.

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” Matt lied.

  The officer said something to a nurse and she came back with a juice box and gave it to Matt. He took it sheepishly, but once he drank it, his vision cleared somewhat. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t eaten anything since last night. He’d been so nerve-racked about showing the huge house that he’d skipped breakfast.

  Across the room, an injured officer was speaking with the man who’d helped Matt subdue the second attacker.

  “I need to find out what happened and everyone said you were the guy to talk to,” Taylor said, drawing Matt’s attention back to him.

  “I guess so.”

  “Start from the beginning. Help me understand what started this.”

  “I was walking by the hospital when I saw a woman and a kid run out of the hospital and get into a car. They hit a parked car on the way out and I got their license plate number. I thought I should tell someone. On the way inside I heard screaming. I thought maybe I could help. Maybe it was some kind of attack, you know? I didn’t want to run away and leave a bunch of kids and sick people to defend themselves. As soon as I stepped inside I saw that guy”—Matt pointed to the body of the man he’d kicked—“on top of the nurse, biting his nose, tearing at it like an animal. Nobody was helping him. Everyone was standing around watching, like they were too scared to move. So I kicked him.”

  “Kicked him how?” Taylor’s voice was calm, non-judgmental.

  “In the head. I thought maybe I’d killed him because his head bounced off the coffee table but he didn’t seem to notice. He pushed himself onto his knees and lunged at me so I kicked him in the head again.”

  “What happened next?”

  “He stopped moving. I guess—I guess I killed him. I didn’t really have time to think about it though. I saw the guy in board shorts run around the corner.” Matt pointed to the second dead body. “He wasn’t attacking just one person like the first guy. He acted like he wanted to attack everyone in the room at the same time. He bit one woman’s ear and then went to the next person and bit them too. I was already pretty keyed up from the first guy so I picked up a chair. Board Shorts saw me and
started running at me. We collided and he fell on the ground. That’s when Frank,” Matt nodded in Frank’s direction, “came over to help. We couldn’t restrain this guy. He bit Frank’s leg. I was afraid of what he’d do if he got away from us.”

  “While all of this was happening, were you afraid that he was capable of killing you, Frank, or someone else in the waiting room?” Taylor’s expression was searching, as if he was weighing Matt’s words.

  Matt shifted in his seat. What if this guy didn’t believe him? “The first attacker bit a man’s nose off,” he said, trying not to sound too defensive. “The second guy had already attacked several people. Then he bit Frank’s leg. He seemed capable of anything. I didn’t know if these guys had escaped from some sort of mental patient holding area.”

  Behind Officer Taylor, the officers who’d been bitten and scratched were sitting down next to Frank. One of them leaned against the wall, slumped like a wilting plant. Frank didn’t look much better. He’d stopped responding to the officer who was questioning him. His face was pale and Matt could see the reflection of the fluorescent lights on his sweaty forehead. He looked nervous. Maybe he was clamming up, refusing to talk to the police.

  Matt swallowed, wondering if he should do the same. Maybe he should demand a lawyer; that’s what people did on TV. Just be honest, he thought, trying to reassure himself. You have nothing to hide. The police shot some people too and they were justified.

  The officer who’d been questioning Frank came over. “Taylor, I’m gonna grab a doctor,” he said in a low voice. “Somethings wrong with these guys.”

  Taylor nodded and turned back to Matt as the officer left the room. “Alright Matt, after you—”

  His words broke off at the sound of a gunshot. It was followed by two more in quick succession. Officer Taylor jumped to his feet, drawing his gun in one smooth movement.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Suddenly the nurse with the missing nose came barreling around the corner. His face was bandaged and his hands and forearms were smeared with blood. Taylor raised his gun and sent three rounds through the nurse’s chest. Matt’s gaze moved toward the hallway, half-expecting the other officer, or at least a doctor, to come chasing after the nurse. No one came.

  “Come on,” Taylor said to Matt.

  Matt sat still, shocked. The nurse without the nose had been a victim; now he was acting as crazy as the man who’d attacked him. It was almost as if insanity was being passed like a disease.

  Frank and the other injured officers and patients had been sitting quietly, but the sound of Taylor’s gun seemed to flip a switch in their minds. As one, they jumped from their chairs and sprinted at Officer Taylor, their arms and legs pumping fast, like they were in a race. Even an old woman got to her feet. Pushing her walker to one side, she ran in Taylor’s direction. A few of the injured people stayed where they were, seemingly too ill to move.

  Matt snapped out of his shock. Taylor was already halfway across the room and Matt didn’t want to be left behind.

  The main exit, where the patrol car’s were parked, was blocked by the crazy people. It seemed like the insane outnumbered the sane.

  Taylor and Matt ran past the dead nurse toward a stairwell with a large emergency exit sign.

  A few of the uninjured people started after Matt and Taylor, fearing the crazies who now filled the room. One of the men tripped and the other fleeing stumbled over him. The crazies pounced, distracted for a few moments from their pursuit of Matt and Officer Taylor.

  Taylor and Matt kept running, heading down the hall toward the emergency room. Matt pulled open the door to a stairwell but Taylor stopped him before he closed it.

  “Here,” Taylor said, handing Matt a fire extinguisher that he’d grabbed from a wall.

  “What do I do with this?” Matt asked, his words sharp with alarm.

  “Hit the door handle on the outside. Once the handle’s gone, we can close the door and no one will be able to get inside. I’ll cover.”

  Behind Taylor, the infected were attacking the remaining sane people. A man screamed, a drawn out shriek that made the hairs on the back of Matt’s neck rise. Before today he’d never heard a man scream like that. Now he’d heard it for the second time in an hour. He looked up just in time to see the screaming man’s stomach rip open like a burst sausage casing. Another man pawed at his abdomen, blood smeared on his hands and face.

  Matt began beating frantically with the fire extinguisher, aiming for the place where the handle met the door. Taylor stood with a squared-off stance, his gun trained on the infected people—who were savagely assaulting their victims—but made no move to draw their attention.

  Matt hit the door handle again, the sound of metal on metal rang through the hallway. The crazies looked up from their blood bath. As one, they sprang to their feet, leaving their victims behind, and ran toward the source of the noise. As soon as the infected were off of him, the man whose stomach had been ripped open rolled to his feet. Holding his intestines with both hands, he stumbled toward the exit, followed by anyone else who could still move.

  “Fucking hit it!” Taylor yelled.

  Two of the infected men running toward them were—or had been—police officers. Now their faces and uniforms were coated with blood and their eyes were wide. Taylor fired at them without hesitating. The bullets hit their target but the officers, safe behind their bullet proof vests, didn’t fall.

  At that moment the door handle fell to the floor with a clank.

  “Got it,” Matt said.

  Taylor stepped into the stairwell and slammed the door, just in time to see the crazed officers smash into it on the other side. They slammed their bodies against the door in a frenzied effort to open it. One of them actually used his head, hitting it against the small window in the door until the glass was smeared with blood. They seemed to feel no pain or fear. Matt wasn’t worried about the door—it was heavy and metal and now there was no handle—but the sight of people using their bodies like battering rams, with no regard for their own well-being, was disturbing.

  “The maternity unit is always locked up tight,” Taylor said. “Let’s get up there.”

  Matt turned in silent agreement and followed Taylor to a set of heavy metal doors on the third floor landing. Taylor rang the buzzer.

  A woman’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Who are you here to see?”

  “This is Officer Taylor with the Virginia Beach Police Department. Open the door.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The doors swung inward and Matt and Taylor entered. They didn’t relax until the doors swished closed behind them. Taylor went straight to the nurse’s station. A young blond stood behind the counter. “Jenna” was printed in large letters on her name tag.

  “What can I help you with, Officer?” she asked, not taking her eyes from the gun in Taylor’s hand. Matt recognized her voice from the intercom.

  Taylor saw Jenna’s look of fear and immediately holstered his weapon.

  “Listen to me,” Taylor said. His voice was calm, like he was instructing a young child. “There’s something terrible happening out there. I think it’s some sort of infection. People are getting bitten and then they’re going crazy and attacking anyone who’s not infected. I saw it happen downstairs with the other officers on my squad. You can’t let anyone inside the maternity unit, do you understand? I don’t care who they are. This place needs to stay sealed off.”

  Jenna looked at Taylor with big eyes, as if she couldn’t quite believe what he was saying.

  Taylor read the look of disbelief on her face. “Listen to what’s happening on my radio if you don’t believe me,” Taylor said.

  Taylor was wearing a plastic ear piece, the kind that the Secret Service wore in action movies. Matt had never realized police officers used the same thing. Methodically, as if he’d done it a million times, Taylor unscrewed the ear piece from his radio. The sounds of the Virginia Beach Police dispatch blared into the maternity ward.

 
The radio was busy with radio traffic detailing similar problems throughout the city.

  “I scanned Norfolk’s radio frequency,” Taylor said. “The same thing is happening there.”

  “What should we do?” Jenna’s voice quivered when she spoke.

  Matt couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Taylor had already explained what needed to be done. Did she need to be told a second time?

  “Keep this place locked down,” Taylor said again. “Don’t let anybody inside. People that are infected move fast and they’re in this building. Even if you open the doors for a person who’s not infected, you run the risk of letting the infected in right behind them.”

  Jenna took a breath. “Okay. Let me page the other staff.”

  Once everyone had gathered, Officer Taylor repeated his instructions, including a brief description of what was happening downstairs.

  “We need to change the pass code to get into the maternity ward,” he said when he was finished.

  An overweight woman with an ID card identifying her as Cheryl spoke up. “I can change the code. I do it every month.”

  “The most important thing is that the door can’t be opened for anybody. Not me, not another officer, and not any other doctor in the hospital. I don’t care if you know them. I don’t care if they look healthy as a horse. If they’ve been infected they will change within the hour. It happened to a few of the officers I came here with. Matt will tell you that I treated them just the same as if a complete stranger had become infected. I shot them, and if you want to survive you’ll act the same.”

  Some of the women gasped but most nodded silently, their faces masks of shock.

  “You can decide whether or not to tell your patients—the mothers and their families—but I want someone posted at every exit to make sure nobody is let in.””

  The nurses agreed and began to divide themselves into groups to make sure somebody was watching each exit just as Taylor had instructed.