Zombie Dust: An Extreme Horror Novel

by Jubilee Savage

  Amen.

  Our Father who art in Heaven hallowed be thy name thy Kingdom come thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven give us this day our daily bread forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us lead us not into temptation deliver us from evil.

  Amen.

  They reached the lower level where the morgue was located, making him wonder whether Audrey planned the same demonstration for Marcy as she'd given him earlier. He hoped not; he didn't think he could go through that again.

  Something banged against the other side of the door leading into the basement hallway, causing Marcy to let go of Audrey's hand and run screaming back the way they'd come.

  He tried to follow her, but Audrey stopped him with one hand wrapped around his wrist. "But Audrey," he said. "I've got her baby."

  Audrey just shook her head. She didn't release her grip on his wrist.

  "Fine," he said. "Lead the way."

  She put her free hand on the door handle and pushed it open without looking to see what was making a racket on the other side.

  Chapter Nineteen

  "What do you think you're doing?" The man on the other side of the door was obviously agitated. "You nearly scared me half to death. Sounded like a herd of elephants stampeding down the damn stairs."

  "Sorry?" Father Matthew said. He was just relieved the man had the ability to speak. That was a good sign. "We were just- we were trying to help a woman find her children, but she- but she went another way."

  "I didn't ask," the man said. He was wearing bloodstained scrubs and a hospital name tag that read, Dr. Noble Kent. "Follow me," he said, looking directly at Audrey as he spoke. "I've got something to show you."

  The priest didn't ask any questions. He shifted the baby in his arm as Audrey released her grasp on his wrist and took him by the hand instead. He allowed her to intertwine her fingers with his.

  Father Matthew and Audrey walked hand in hand behind Dr. Kent. Audrey was surprised by the sensation of warmth flowing through the priest's hand that didn't quite warm the coolness of her skin. She instinctively knew it was a very bad thing.

  To the best of her recollection, she had never felt a hand so warm. She wondered whether it was because she herself had never been so cold.

  "Your hand is so cold," the priest murmured, echoing Audrey's thoughts. "I wish your hand wasn't so cold. I wish you weren't so cold. I wish. I wish. I wish." He stopped talking. His breathing was heavy. With his free hand, he cradled his injured ribs and winced.

  Audrey squeezed his warm hand in her cold one and wished she could take away his pain. She knew that she couldn't. She knew that she could only cause him more pain. She hoped that he would remember the promise he had made to her. She hoped that he would kill her when the time was right. She squeezed his hand again.

  Dr. Kent stopped at the closed door to the cafeteria and fished a set of keys out of his pocket.

  At least we aren't going back to the morgue, Father Matthew thought.

  "Before I open this door, I want to warn you that some of the things you see here could be unpleasant." He turned to look at Audrey and the priest. "Somehow, I doubt you'll be surprised at anything you see though."

  The doctor slid one of the keys into the lock on the door and turned it. "She's dead. Right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "They probably won't bother her," he said, "but you should watch your back."

  "Are they just roaming around free in there?" Father Matthew asked. "Are you sure it's safe?"

  "I don't know if I'd exactly categorize it as roaming free," Dr. Kent replied. "You'll see for yourself soon enough." He pushed the door open.

  The stench of rotting flesh and unwashed bodies rolled through the doorway and assaulted Father Matthew's nostrils. He gagged. Glancing at his companion, he saw her nose twitch and wondered if she smelled it, too.

  Audrey remained cool as a cucumber. Her expression didn't even change. The odor smelled like home to her.

  Dr. Kent was a different story. He smelled like dinner.

  They stepped over the threshold into the cafeteria.

  "This is where I keep them," Dr. Kent said. "They were just everywhere, but I got them down here single handedly. Did all this by myself, too." He waved his hand around the space without looking.

  Father Matthew's gaze took in the sight of all the poor creatures locked inside the cafeteria. Many of them were tied with electric cords, wires and long flexible plastic tubing. Some were missing their hands and feet. Others had gaping black holes where their eyes should be.

  They all had one thing in common, besides the fact that they were clearly dead despite their thrashing about. Their mouths were sewn shut.

  "What in God's name have you done to these people?" Father Matthew asked.

  "Don't bring God into this," the doctor said. "I'm no theologian, but I don't think even your God can save her now." He pointed at Audrey.

  She was foaming at the mouth. The foam was the color of coal.

  Chapter Twenty

  Audrey was fading fast.

  Father Matthew could see it. He could feel it. The problem, as he saw it, was that Dr. Kent could see it, too.

  He held her hand more tightly in his own.

  "You're going to have to put her out of her misery, you know," the doctor said. "I'm not sure if you're operating under some misguided impression of love or obligation, but whatever you feel for this thing isn't normal. I'd be more than happy to take care of it if you can't."

  "This 'thing' is a human being," the priest replied. "She is a woman, a child of God. You can't simply euthanize her." He released her hand and placed his body in front of hers. "She isn't yours to kill. You have no right to decide her fate."

  "No one decides anyone's fate," the doctor said. "That's what makes it fate. If it's her fate to fall to pieces while you watch, that's what's going to happen. If it's her fate to be shot in the face to spare others from being brutally attacked and consumed like part of a pig roast, then that's what's going to happen."

  Father Matthew frowned. "No," he said. "Fate doesn't work that way."

  "The truth is that you're no more an authority on fate than I am. You say potato. I say potahto, but it's far too late to call the whole thing off. All we can do now is make the best of it."

  "Making the best of it. Is that seriously what you call all this?" Father Matthew waved his hand around to indicate the horrors of the room. "You're sick, and you know it."

  "I don't know it," the doctor said. "What I do know is that these people are sick. These things are sick. All I'm trying to do is help them, and quite frankly, I'm disappointed that you don't see it that way."

  Audrey stumbled and fell forward. She landed face down on the dirty floor and started twitching like she was having a seizure. The borrowed shoes came loose from her dirty feet and fell off.

  The priest knelt beside her. "I don't know what to do," he said, turning to the doctor. "You have to help me help her."

  Dr. Kent pulled something from the waistband of his dirty scrubs. "There's only one way to help her," he said, "and it involves putting her out of her misery." He was holding a gun.

  "Wait. Where did you get that from?" Father Matthew tried to shield Audrey's prone body with his own. "What's a doctor doing with a gun?"

  "It must have belonged to one of the cops who were here guarding a patient earlier. I found it on the floor in one of the operating suites." He looked at the weapon with admiration. "They were standing watch over a particularly nasty John Doe. I told them to put a bullet in his head if he caused any trouble. Guess what. They actually took my advice." He chuckled softly.

  "You've got to be kidding me. Are you telling me the gun was just lying there on the floor of the operating room?" Father Matthew asked.

  He was stalling for time, trying to think of anything that would keep the doctor from sending a bullet from the gun into the brain of Audrey, whose convulsions had grown worse.

  "Not exactly. I had to pry it from t
he cold, dead hand of Robin from HR. She had just used it to blow her brains out, which was a smart move under the circumstances. That's what I've been trying to tell you. Why don't you stand aside and let me finish that thing off before it suffers more?"

  "She's not a thing." Father Matthew held out one trembling hand to the doctor. "Please put the gun down. I'm begging you."

  The doctor lowered the gun, aiming it at Father Matthew. "I don't want to shoot you, but you’re in the way. Why don't you make things easier on all of us instead of making me guess the perfect angle to shoot your meat puppet there through the head via your body?"

  "Shoot me then." Father Matthew was exhausted and resigned. "Go ahead. If you're going to kill her, you might as well kill me, too." He closed his eyes and began praying.

  "I'm glad to hear you're finally thinking clearly." Dr. Kent raised the gun and aimed it between the priest's eyes. Then he pulled the trigger.

  The gun clicked, but it didn't fire.

  "You've got to be kidding me," the doctor said.

  The priest opened his eyes.

  "There's no bullets in this gun," he said.

  Father Matthew let out a sigh of relief.

  "It's a good thing I found this outside the radiology department." He pulled a second gun from beneath his scrubs, aimed and fired.

  The bullet tore through the air, narrowly missing the priest's head. It lodged in the wall on the opposite side of the room.

  The priest looked around. He was dazed. His ears were ringing. "Did you just try to shoot me?" Father Matthew asked. "Seriously?"

  The doctor didn't lower the weapon. His finger was on the trigger. "This time, I won't miss," he said. "After you're out of the way, the next bullet is going into that thing on the floor." He threw his head back and laughed.

  It was at that very moment that Audrey rolled to her side and lunged toward him. Her fingers barely touched the hem of his dirty scrubs.

  Dr. Kent looked down and scowled, lowering the gun so that it was aimed at her face. "You're going to be sorry you touched me," he said. "I don't care what he says, you're not even human."

  Audrey's fingers closed around the fabric of his scrub bottoms and pulled hard, knocking the doctor off balance. She had her teeth deep into the flesh of his leg before his head hit the floor and the gun bounced out of his hand.

  He screamed as she tore chunks of meat from his calf. Kicking at her with his other foot only served to make her eat faster as if she was afraid her food would be taken away. Blood poured from the wounds.

  Fresh crimson blossomed on Audrey's stained and dirty clothes. It streaked her face and her hands as she consumed the flesh of the doctor's leg with an enthusiasm she hadn't shown since the last time she'd fed.

  The doctor screamed until he passed out.

  Audrey crawled up between his legs and pushed his scrub top upward with both hands before ripping into his abdomen with blunt fingernails and dull teeth while the priest looked on in horror.

  "Please, Audrey," Father Matthew said. "Audrey, please." The words were spoken barely above the level of a whisper. "Please."

  Audrey's face was buried in the doctor's stomach. She ate the soft, wet organs like she knew it was her last meal.

  The priest prayed to a God he no longer believed in while he watched her feed. He lifted his right hand and made the sign of the cross; he didn't stop praying until she was finished.

  Audrey sat back on her heels and licked her fingers. Her clothes were stiff with dried blood the color of cooled lava, drying maroon blood and fresh scarlet. She looked up at her priest with tears in her eyes.

  "I'm not going to kill you," he told her gently. "I don't care what we agreed in the morgue. I'm sorry, but it's just not going to happen."

  Audrey rose to her feet and looked around the room at the ruined husks of humanity writhing and straining to break free from their bonds. Their mouths were crusted in blood and ashes, but the stitches held.

  She pointed to them and then pointed to her own mouth, which shone glossy red in the light of the emergency lighting units. Then she mimicked sewing, moving her hand in front of her face like she was holding a thread and needle.

  Father Matthew glanced around the nearby tables and countertops. His eyes landed on the exact items he was afraid to see, sewing needles and thread.

  "Audrey, I can't," he said. "He wasn't even using surgical sutures. It's just regular thread and needles. You can't expect me to sew your mouth shut. It's barbaric. I can't do it, and I won't."

  She pointed at the table holding the sewing supplies and then at herself.

  "No," Father said. "Just no."

  Audrey stomped to the table and sat in a chair. She picked up the largest sewing needle and peered through the eye of the needle. Setting it down, she raised the spool of thread and pulled a long strand from it before breaking the thread with her teeth.

  Her tongue was wet with blood, not saliva, but she licked the end of the thread, bloodying it before passing it through the eye of the needle on the fifth try while the priest watched her with rapt attention. She pressed her lips together and passed the point of the threaded needed upward through her bottom lip.

  Audrey grimaced and pushed harder until the tip of the needle penetrated her top lip, and then she pulled the thread almost all the way through, stopping just short of pulling the thread out of her bottom lip by accident. Her hands started to shake.

  Father Matthew didn't try to stop her as she repeated the motion, bringing the needle upward through her lower lip into her upper lip over and over again until her mouth was sewn shut.