The Real Night of the Living Dead

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The Real Night of the Living Dead Page 6

by Mark Kramer


  With that outlook fresh in my mind, I got my second wind and marched on.

  We stepped off the field and onto the road that looped from N-3 to N-5. From here, I could not see any cars, but I did see three creatures, spread out, moving about at a slow pace. They hadn’t seen us. Yet.

  Christ, my fresh outlook was beginning to dimmer. The infected patients already reached this building. How far out had this disaster spread? And where the hell was Haas’ car? That was the whole reason why we hiked in this direction.

  As we moved to the parking lot, I said, “I don’t see his car.”

  “This is shit,” said the injured Melvin. “We’re done for. What do we do now?”

  Then, an eruption of high-pitched screams and shrieks began to drown out the sound of the falling rain.

  I turned back to see what it was and almost passed out from the shock. My jaw hung, and I could not utter a word.

  Billy wasn’t bothered at the sight at all. He said, in a very casual tone, “Well, grab your paddles, boys. We headed up Shit’s Creek and in for a dog of a night.”

  Coming from behind N-3, where the women’s group was located, and behind the small mob that had been chasing us since N-3, was a wave of at least fifty of these things.

  That fresh outlook rotted away in a beat of my quaking heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We ran.

  Even Melvin broke loose from my support and ran; although, his was more of a jog, and even that was draining him of energy. He was breathing heavy. The circles under his eyes were growing darker by the minute.

  Billy was in good shape. He moved fast, even with the pretty woman, whose eyes were closed, in his arms.

  In the parking lot now, we hustled toward the front entrance of N-5. The three infected patients took notice and began to move our way. One of them was running, another was moving very slow and stiff.

  We ran up the steps of N-5. I pulled the door open. We entered and waiting for us at the security guard’s desk was a creature.

  We stopped. Water was dripping off our clothes and onto the faux marble flooring.

  The creature looked at us and moaned. Then he moved forward, slowly. He appeared to be in pain every time he attempted to move an arm or a leg. His skin color was dull and grayish blue. There was a putrid, rotting smell seeping through his pores. I had no doubt that these creatures were dead, but still walking. However insane that may sound. I mean, here was a man, walking around, his eyes open, but decomposing before our own eyes.

  He was moving so slow that I wasn’t scared at all, or maybe that had to do with what was headed our way? I approached the infected patient, whose hands were behind his back, and whacked him upside his head with both the mop and broom.

  He dropped face first to the floor. Blood began seeping from his ears.

  I looked at his back and noticed his hands were handcuffed. It was the patient who started it all. He managed to spread his reign of terror all the way to this building. Who knows how many people he slaughtered in here?

  “So what now then?” Billy said.

  “We need to find a safe place to catch our breath,” I said.

  “Sounds good,” said Billy. “My arms are gettin’ numb from carryin’ this dirty lil’ angel. Not only that, I gotta take a whiz real bad.”

  “Melvin, you worked this building before,” I said. “Any places you can think of?”

  His head hung as he leaned against the wall behind us. He raised his eyes and said, “Kitchen. There’s a storage room back…there.”

  “Which way?”

  Billy interrupted, saying, “Down this way. Can’t you smell the taters?”

  Melvin nodded, agreeing with Billy.

  We walked down the cold hallway, in the direction of the kitchen. I helped Melvin again, while Billy carried the exhausted nurse.

  After about five minutes, we reached the spacious cafeteria. It took an extra few minutes, because we stopped a couple times so my friend could catch his breath. Along the way, we heard moans coming from the stairwell, but we didn’t encounter any of the maniacs.

  The cafeteria was a good forty fifty yards wide and was lined with picnic tables. And the entire place was empty, although, I did notice a few puddles of blood and a nurse’s cap on the floor; the only sign I could see that these things made their way through here.

  “Back here,” said Melvin. “Behind the counter.”

  Me and Melvin walked across the empty floor and behind the counter, to the kitchen. Billy and the nurse trailed.

  There was a door against the back wall with a square foot window near the top. We moved toward it.

  “Where do youse guys think you’re going?”

  We were startled by the voice. We turned, and the person that Billy hated the most was pointing his gun at us.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He laughed once he recognized who I was. “How’s this for karma?” Hank said. “The son of a bitch convict from Holmesburg is staring down the barrel of my forty-four. You know, I could put a bullet in that no good head of yours and wouldn’t even be threatened with seeing the inside of a prison. What do you think of that?”

  “Relax, mug,” I said. “This ain’t no time to be throwing your authority around.”

  Billy, still carrying the nurse, said, “Yeah, Hank the Tank, put your toy back in your pants before you hurt somebody.”

  He turned the gun to Billy, saying, “Shut your mouth, you crazy shitter. I got half a mind to shoot you dead right here. You’re not supposed to be walking the premises without proper supervision.”

  “I’m carryin’ the proper supervision. Ain’t she a peach?”

  Hank looked over the mud caked nurse; at first, having a hard time figuring out who she was, then realizing she was a nurse, he said, “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Found’er in the field comin’ over.”

  “The hell did youse bastards do to her?”

  I said, “We didn’t do a thing. She was lying in the field. That’s how we found her. If anything, we saved her life.” I paused. He still had the gun on Billy. “Look, we need to take a load off.”

  He was contemplating on what to do. He saw the wounds on Melvin and said, “What happened to him?”

  “He was bitten,” I said.

  He stared at Melvin, then said, “Go ahead, through the door.”

  We entered the storage room. It was about twenty-five feet wide and forty feet in length, and the walls were lined with racks filled with all types of food: bags of coffee beans, canned foods, baskets of vegetables and fruits, potato sacks, pudding, bread, stuff like that. To the far wall was a door that was a back exit to this building.

  Hank was the last to enter. He shut the door, locking it from the inside, then slid a six foot high empty metal rack against it as a barricade.

  I dropped the mop and broom on the floor, grabbed a small stack of empty potato sacks and laid them on the cold floor. Then Billy placed the nurse over the sacks. Melvin was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the wall.

  Hank hadn’t been the only person hiding in here. There was an older male patient, wearing a hospital gown that was open down the back, standing at the racks, eating an apple, and a doctor, young guy, coming toward us now from the back of the storage room. He said, “Where did you come from?”

  “We were in the therapy building. That’s where this all started,” I said. “I’m surprised they reached here so fast.”

  “It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes ago,” said the doctor. “We were in the kitchen, feeding patients and some of the staff.”

  Hank interrupted, saying, “Yeah, that’s when that crazy walked in and started biting whoever he could get his mouth on. Kept falling everywhere ‘cause his hands were cuffed behind him. Everyone screaming and running, like a damn riot.”

  “It took no more than five minutes before this place was cleared out. Hank, the patient and I were the last to try and flee, but once we reached the door ther
e were a few people there waiting for us. They appeared to be sick, like the man who started the attack. So we had no choice but to come back. Once we reached the dining area, the same man was waiting for us. That’s when we hid in here.”

  I said, “Are there any cars around here that we can get to?”

  Hank said, “There were probably two or three cars parked out here to begin with. And they’re gone.”

  “Doctor Haas was with us. He said he left his car here,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Hank said. “It was parked right out front. I saw one of the attendants driving off. Beats me on how he got his keys.”

  The whole reason why there weren’t more cars than the few that had remained was that, not only were we into the night shift, but most of the employees here used Philadelphia Rapid Transit as a means of transportation. A couple of reasons behind this: one, most of the employees were attendants and didn’t own automobiles (for every doctor there were twenty attendants, for every nurse, seven attendants, so attendants far outnumbered doctors and nurses), and two, a lot of the nurses and attendants lived here, in the dorms, from Monday through Friday, then would return home for the weekend. Usually, they’d get a friend or loved one to drop them off on Monday and pick them up on Friday.

  The doctor had a curious look on his face and said, “So where is Doctor Haas now?”

  “He didn’t make it,” I said.

  “What? He’s dead?” said the doctor, sounding upset.

  “Yeah,” said Billy. “Ol’ fart tried to take a bite outta me.”

  “Who said you could talk, kook?” said Hank.

  I jumped in, saying, “No, he’s right. The doctor was bitten by a patient who was injected with a polio vaccine…”

  “Wait just a second,” said the young doctor. “You mean to tell me this madness is the result of a vaccination experiment?” I nodded. “So, it’s a sort of virus that’s being spread?”

  “Yeah, and I know this sounds crazy, but I’m almost sure that these people are dying.” I paused, looking at the expressions on the guard and doctor’s faces, then continued, “And then…they return to life and become one of these maniacs.”

  Hank and the doctor laughed. The older patient, chewing his apple, broke his silence, saying, “My good man, you are even crazier than I am.”

  “You think I’m crazy,” I said. “Tell me, how many people did that guy, who busted in the kitchen, bite?”

  Hank said, “At least four. But they’re all dead.”

  “And where’d they die?” I said.

  “The bodies were spread in and around the dining area,” said the doctor.

  “Not anymore they ain’t,” said Billy.

  “That’s bullshit,” said Hank. “We saw them dead on the floor when we ran back here.”

  “Ain’t nothin’ but blood on them there floors now.”

  Hank was shaking his head, not believing a word of it. The doctor was staring at Billy, a look of shock on his face. I said, “Whoever was dead in that cafeteria is wandering this building. We saw some outside and heard a few when we were heading this way. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen more than once tonight.”

  The young doctor gazed at Hank and said, “That…That would explain why your bullets didn’t hurt the attackers.”

  “You gotta aim at the some-bitch’s head, Hank the Tank,” said Billy. “That’s why you ain’t do nothin’.”

  “What? Don’t you ever shut your goddamn mouth?” said Hank.

  “That’s the truth,” I said. “The only way to stop them is by hitting the brain. Doctor Haas explained it, has to do with the virus that’s driving their mind or whatever.”

  No one said a word for a minute or two. The only noise was that of the older patient, biting into his apple.

  Then I broke the silence, “I’ll tell you what, whether you mugs believe me or not, there are a bunch of them headed this way.”

  “What do you mean a bunch?” said Hank.

  “The patients broke loose from N-3 and spread across the campus,” I said. “Looks like they hit the women’s buildings and infected people there. Now they’re coming this way.”

  Hank was eyeing Melvin now. “So if you catch the infection from being bitten, then this sorry bastard here should be turning into one of them. Right?” I stayed quiet. “So why’s he in here? I ought to shoot him now, before he has the chance to attack us.”

  “Leave him,” I said. “I’ll handle him myself.”

  Melvin looked horrible. He had already lost so much blood, his skin was pale, and he passed out as soon as we came in the storage room. I knew he wasn’t going to last another twenty minutes.

  I had a lump in my throat. Wanted to cry so bad. But I held it, fought it back. “He’s my friend. I don’t want anything to happen to him unless he really does change.”

  “Then you keep him away from us,” said Hank. “If he attacks me, I’m killing you, him, hell, I’ll kill everyone in this room.”

  The doctor shook his head in disgust.

  Melvin moaned and whispered, “Hey, pal.”

  I looked. He motioned me over. I walked and knelt down beside him. “How you feeling?”

  “Lousy. But I don’t quit. Never have. Listen, I gotta tell you something. Come closer.” I moved in, my face, a few inches from his. “I ain’t exactly who you think I am, see?” I squinted. He continued, “I’m a reporter…a reporter for the Inquirer…I…I was working undercover…supposed to do an exposé…on…the…conditions of this joint…” I couldn’t believe it. I had known this guy for months and would never have even imagined him to be a reporter. “Go in my wallet. Get my driver’s license. And get my keys from my pocket.”

  “Why? What do you want me to do with that?” I said.

  “My…address…is on it. If things don’t turn out…good…for me…I want you to go…my place. All my files are there…about my…investigation. Take…to…the paper…turn them in to the editor. But make sure you fill them in on what’s…going on…tonight. Get me?”

  I swallowed the urge to cry. He was dying, and it was tearing me apart inside. Since we first met, we were kind of like partners, always working together. But soon that would be over. “I get you.”

  “Christ, I could…really use a drink,” he said.

  I nodded, smiled and had to turn away. It was too painful to see him like that. I stood and faced the rest of the group. They were staring at me, save Billy; he was busy wiping the caked mud from his feet.

  “We must leave,” said the doctor. “If you say there are so many approaching, then we really need to leave. We can exit out this back door.”

  The lights flickered.

  “Did any of you try calling the police?” I said.

  “We tried,” said Hank, “but the line was already dead.”

  The doctor said, “Yes, but I would hope one of the employees, who managed to make it out of here, went for help. Even if they did, who knows how long it would be before the authorities arrived? We can’t afford to stay and wait and suffer at the hands of them.”

  “If you leave, where do you go?” I said. “The creek is probably flooded, so the roads surrounding this place are going to be out.”

  “I say we stay here,” said Hank. “We’ll be safe. They’ll never get through that door. We have plenty of food to last for all of us. Trust me, we’re fine in this room. At the most, we just need to wait until morning. Once the day crew arrives and sees what’s going on, they’ll go for help.”

  “I’m going to the children’s camp,” I said.

  “The children’s camp?” said Hank. “You’re crazy. That’s behind the women’s group. You’ll have to go straight through that army that you say is headed this way.”

  “Like I said, I’m going to the children’s camp.”

  The doctor said, “I understand there are a few hundred patients there that need help, but there are thousands of patients throughout this campus that are in just as much danger. What is so important that you need to
get to the children’s camp?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I was a few days into my position at the hospital when I was first reunited with Clara Daniels. We were childhood sweethearts when she was thirteen and I was seventeen; we dated for a few months until I moved to New Jersey with my older brother. She was named after the old picture star Clara Bow around the time of the height of her popularity, 1928. She was twenty-three and an honest to God knockout.

  That morning, I was assigned to work as Clara’s attendant. She was going to be spending the day with a group of about twenty kids. They were going to waste away a few hours at the hospital’s bowling alley.

  My supervisor introduced us, and I couldn’t believe how much she changed. In a way, she even resembled Clara Bow. She had wavy brown hair that was parted to the side and hazel eyes that could put a man in a trance. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was a woman.

  We sat at a table by one of the lanes. She was smiling, watching the kids enjoying themselves; most of them were happy to get out of their cottages for a while, others sat in a corner, staring at the kids playing, or staring at Clara and myself.

  I was sipping from a bottle of Coca-Cola and eating a ham sandwich that came from the kitchen. I caught Clara watching me. She said, “Are you one of these men from the prison system? The ones that opt to work here?”

  I gazed at her. Waited about a minute, letting her question hang out there, before saying, “You got it right. I’m a thug. A lowlife. A criminal. A no good dirty rotten rat. Yeah, I spent some time in the joint. You should be glad I didn’t stick around. You would be wasting your life, visiting me in prison and counting the days till I was released.”

  “That’s what love is all about,” she said. “You’re there through the good times and the bad times. I would have always been there for you.”

 

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