Dead Eyes: A Tale From The Zombie Plague

by Dwyer, James

  “No, we can’t stop now,” he said nervously, “Just get ready to go.”

  I sat back down once again, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. Things seemed to be escalating quickly and I could feel myself becoming agitated. Doctor Morgan moved no quicker despite the threat stumbling its way towards him.

  I couldn’t make out what type of zombies they were approaching. It couldn’t have been Daisies as the doctor would have been dead by now. I wound down the window slightly and poked my head outside to listen.

  “Mmmmmmooooorrrrrrr.”

  Moaners. I could just about deal with them. I looked round me to the improvised cattle guard that surrounded the 4x4. Could I get enough speed up to make it work?

  Doctor Morgan ran through the gate, pushing out one of the metal planks used to bridge the ditch. He struggled against the weight, feet skidding on the dirt as he tried to force it over. It took an age for the first one to be moved into position, Morgan exhausted already. He stopped to rest a moment before grabbing onto the other one, his movements languid and lacking the urgency the situation required.

  “Come on,” I said again.

  I couldn’t stand watching him any longer. I jumped out of the jeep and ran over to him. “What are you doing?” he yelled as I ran over.

  “If I wait any longer, you’ll be killed.”

  Morgan turned to the zombies and jumped in fright. “How did they get so close?”

  “Just get in the jeep, I’ll do this.”

  He required no convincing. He ran back to the jeep, jumping in to the driver’s seat. The headlights flickered into life as he started the engine.

  I grabbed the second plank and started pushing it into place. It was a lot heavier than it looked, my hands straining to get underneath to lift it. More moans joined the chorus ahead of me. The coming undead had grown in number, more appearing from out of the morning gloom. The sight gave me a surge of adrenaline that made my muscles work harder. I lifted the plank and pushed it across the ditch. I didn’t realise until the time that I was bridging the gap, giving the zombies a path to attack me.

  I turned back to the camp. The jeep was already moving, Morgan pointing frantically for me to step aside. I jumped out of the way just in time. The jeep slowed, not stopped, as it neared me. I pulled the door open and climbed inside.

  “What about the gate?” I said.

  “Fuck the gate, we have to go,” said Morgan.

  “But the zombies will get inside!” I said.

  “That’s not our problem now.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Everyone inside will die!” I said.

  The jeep slowly crossed the ditch. “They have their problems, I have mine. Just relax.”

  I looked back at the gates, the guard towers still inactive. The zombies were close now, and there was no way of telling if they would follow us or cross the bridge inside. I made a quick choice. I couldn’t sit back and let Morgan damn the others. I reached across and slammed my hand against the steering wheel, the car horn ringing out loudly. “Stop that,” said Morgan, trying to push me away.

  “We have to alert them,” I shouted over the long blaring of the horn.

  Morgan put his foot down, the jeep lurching forward, rapidly away from camp. I let go of the horn, turning in time to see Morgan swerve between the undead in front of us. “Run them down!” I said.

  He shook his head. He was terrified. As if he had never seen a zombie before.

  I looked back through the rear windscreen. “Please,” I said to myself, “Please wake up.”

  As if on cue, the spotlights of the guard towers switched on, moving first onto us before searching back to the encroaching undead. I saw a mass of bodies suddenly appear in the campgrounds. Men and women rushed to the metal planks, pulling them back, the gate closing quickly soon as they were inside.

  The last time I would see the inside of the camp. I was certain of it.

  ✖

  A mile away from camp I had calmed enough to speak to Morgan. “Why did you do that?” I asked.

  “I did what needed to be done,” said the doctor, his hand shaking nervously on the gear stick.

  “You could have killed everyone inside.”

  “We,” he corrected, “We did it. Not just me.”

  “Whatever. I just don’t understand why,” I said.

  “You think they would have let me take the jeep if I asked? They don’t care about anyone but themselves.”

  “So you’d let them die?”

  “Look, I didn’t think it through completely. I didn’t know there would be zombies waiting outside,” said Morgan, “Just answer me this. How far would you go to save the woman you love? I’m not going to leave Debbie to die out there.”

  I said nothing. His twisted logic had won me over. Reluctantly.

  “How far is it to the hospital?”

  “Ten miles. We’ll be there in half an hour,” said Morgan.

  He looked like hell. Deep shadows around his eyes, his skin pale and lifeless. Almost like a zombie himself.

  “What?” he said, noticing me staring.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’ll be fine soon as we reach the hospital. Get some sleep if you want, I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

  “I’m not tired,” I said.

  I was tired though. Just wasn’t going to fall asleep around Morgan. Trust was in short supply since the undead rose. I wasn’t going to waste any on him. Not with Libby waiting for my rescue ten miles down the road.

  ✖

  We arrived at the hospital two hours later. We didn’t get lost, Morgan never stopped to check a map. He had just lied or judged the distance wrong. Either way, it would have been impossible for us to leave the camp and come back without anyone noticing. This was always going to be a one-way trip.

  Fed up with my negativity, I decided to be optimistic for a change and believe that he had just misjudged the distance.

  “Here we are,” he said, turning the jeep into the drive.

  Saint Anastasia Hospital and Rehabilitation Clinic. The first thing I noticed was how well kept the place was. The grass had not grown long, the trees and bushes were all well trimmed. It was if the zombie invasion had not touched here at all.

  The hospital itself consisted of a large square building, with two long wings on either side. A pair of ambulances sat idly beside the front entrance. It was calm and quiet. A good sign.

  Morgan drove the jeep up to the front entrance. “Wait,” I said, “Park the jeep facing back down the road.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “In case we need a quick escape,” I said.

  “Why would we need that?” he said, before realisation dawned on his face, “You think there’s more zombies inside?”

  “Its a hospital. Hospitals have sick people. Sick people die,” I said.

  “Shit,” said Morgan, “I hope its clear.”

  “If Debbie is inside, we’ll find her,” I said, trying to sound reassuring.

  His mind was elsewhere.

  He turned the jeep around, reversing back towards the main entrance. I kept my eyes on the doors, searching for signs of life or death. It was clear.

  Morgan stopped the jeep and switched off the ignition. “What’s the plan?” I asked.

  “Go inside and find Debbie,” he said, “Or at least some sign they were here.”

  “How many of them were there?”

  “How many?” asked Morgan.

  “In the scavenge team,” I said.

  “Oh,” he replied, pausing for a moment, “Seven.”

  “That’s not good,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “One, there’s only five seats in this car. Two, seven people do not just go quiet for a reason. I assume they had a radio with them?”

  “I dunno,” said Morgan.

  “What do you know?” I asked.

  “Lets just start searching okay?”

  His hands were shaking a lot
now. I couldn’t tell if it was fear or anticipation. Whatever the cause, he seemed unaware of it.

  We stepped outside the jeep and made our way towards the main entrance. The sun had risen during the drive to the hospital, giving the place a warm welcoming glow. The kind that photographer’s would have waited hours for, to get the right light.

  The main doors were unlocked, with no signs of damage, no improvised defences nearby. The place seemed safe. I knew better than that. No yellow paint was the first clue.

  We entered the main lobby, Doctor Morgan walking towards the information desk and map of the hospital. He read the labels closely before deciding on a plan. “Okay, you head west to the operating theatres and outpatients departments. I’ll head east to check the wards.”

  “You sure you want to split up?” I said.

  “It seems safe right? “

  “It always seems safe.”

  “We’ll be fine. You won’t leave without me right?”

  “Of course not,” I said.

  “Good. If I need you, I’ll scream.”

  He turned and walked away, disappearing quickly into the East Wing. It didn’t bother me so much that he wanted to split up. I was used to working alone. What bothered me was why he had asked me to come with him in the first place. I hoped it wasn’t to act as a scapegoat on our return to camp. Blame the new guy.

  No more negativity.

  I took the service pistol out of my bag and entered the West Wing.

  The inside of the West Wing was as tidy as the entrance. No chaos here, not a single lick of paint out of place. My feet echoed without reply through the corridors as I began walking. The silence made me quiet; afraid to make a noise that breaks the tranquillity.

  The building was a maze of corridors, examination rooms, waiting areas and offices. Progress was slow, I stopped to check every room to see if I could find any trace of the scavenge team. There was not a single sign of anyone having ever been here. All the offices were neat and organised; the beds in the wards were made with fresh linen. Not a single sign of anyone having been here at all, before or after the undead came. It was as if the hospital had never been used, a fresh build waiting to be dirtied by the sick and dying.

  If the scavenge team had been here, why weren’t there any signs of their presence? A tidy building had not been scavenged. No ransacking or pillaging had taken place here. I started to worry that the team had not even reached the hospital. That they had been attacked or killed on their way here.

  Libby…

  I continued my search. Better to make sure before they weren’t here before starting to panic.

  The next place I searched was the X-ray department. I pushed open the heavy double doors and made my way into the waiting area. Out of curiosity, I climbed over the desk and checked through one of the filing cabinets. Again, it was completely empty. Lots of cardboard folders, not a single file in any of them.

  A thought hit me as I thumbed my way through the empty folders. The hospital had either never been used, or cleaned completely.

  I closed the drawers, the metal tray clanging loudly as it hit the back of the cabinet. The clang was followed by a muffled yell somewhere nearby. Unable to work out what the cause of the yell was, I decided to investigate. Best case scenario it was a member of the scavenge team. Worst case, it was an undead. Either would give me an idea of what to do next. Find Morgan and tell him the good news. Find Morgan and tell him the bad news.

  The sound had come from one of the x-ray rooms, I was sure of it. I made my way round, unhappy that the doors were windowless. Probably to protect from the radiation. There were four x-ray rooms in total. As I approached the first, I heard the muffled scream again. Instantly I froze, an ice-cold finger tracing down my spine. It was a scream of intense pain. Living or dead, the crier was suffering.

  I ignored the first three rooms and made my way to the larger one at the far end, labelled “Main X-Ray”. I was certain the sound had come from inside there. Despite this my pace slowed, my body reluctant to move any quicker. I was sure that whoever was on the other side, they were no longer living.

  I reached the double doors and placed my hand on the handle. The door had opened an inch when there was another scream, followed by many others, all slightly muffled, all filled with desperation. I could hear banging and scratching on glass.

  Taking a deep breath, I poked my head through the gap in the door.

  The room was divided into two by a large glass partition. On my side was a large control panel and a set of glass double doors. On the other side was the x-ray machine, a large ceiling mounted device that dominated the space. Between the machine and the glass, seven Daisies screamed impotently at the window, their dead red eyes piercing through at me. Each of them wore a tattered, bloodied medical gown, torn and shredded so that they were only just about recognisable.

  I looked past them and saw a mess of overturned beds, straps and medical drips discarded amongst them. The glass partition was solid, the Daisies kept on one side like animals in a zoo. I took this opportunity to get closer, see the horror up close.

  They screamed louder as I neared, the muffled noise almost pathetic. Yelling to be fed. Drawing nearer, I could see that each Daisy had lots of the small white hair across its body. Not like body hair, these were placed randomly, except for clumps of the white fluff that surrounded any sores or wounds.

  Suddenly one of the Daisies banged its arm against the window, out of frustration that it couldn’t get at me. Before it took its arm away, I spotted blue ink on its wrist. Although the skin was distorted by disease, I could just about make out what the tattoo read.

  “Patient 036.”

  The realisation fired every flight neurone in my brain. I needed to get out of there, the urge to leave almost violently pushing me away. I had wandered into something that I didn’t want to see. Questions formed in my mind that I had no interest in pursuing. I was here for Libby, nothing else. I quickly left the room, making sure the door closed beside me.

  I had seen enough now. The scavenge team couldn’t have searched here. Seeing the Daisies perhaps sped up my realisation, but the facts remained the same. Nothing had been taken. Scavengers don’t come to hospitals and take nothing.

  I left the X-ray department and quickly headed back towards the East Wing. Walking back made the hospital seem more alien. How could everything be neat and tidy, so calm, when there were undead locked inside? Patients. Patients locked inside.

  I was trying to process this information when I heard another muffled scream. It was from an area I had missed during my initial search. “Imaging Centre”.

  Confused and scared, I quickly made my way towards it. I entered the waiting room and immediately knew where the noise was coming from. “MRI Scanner One”. It couldn’t be true, could it?

  I walked to the door and stopped, pressing my ear against the wood. More muffled screams. More scratching against glass. I pushed the door open.

  The Daisies screamed as they saw me, smashing against the glass. It was just like the X-ray room, the undead placed on one side, locked away. What the fuck had happened here?

  One of the Daisies took a step back before launching itself against the glass.

  Crack.

  A small fracture appeared in the window where it had struck its head. Both the Daisies and me froze. Realising what had happened.

  “Fuck,” I said.

  I closed the door and turned, running back through the building, the sound of more glass cracking behind me.

  It was time to leave.

  ✖

  I sprinted back through the building, not stopping to uncover any more dirty secrets. I had just reached the main entrance lobby when I heard screeching behind me. The Daisies were loose.

  I entered the East Wing and closed the double doors behind me. I looked around frantically, searching for something to barricade the doors with. Nothing.

  Giving up, I turned and ran through the corridor, trying to guess whi
ch way the doctor went.

  “Morgan?” I shouted, as loud as I dared to.

  No reply.

  I continued running, scanning my environment as I moved. Searching for a defensive position, places I could use to give me an advantage over the undead.

  How long would I search for before giving up and retreating to the jeep? I didn’t like my answer to the question. I only hoped that the key had been left behind inside the vehicle.

  I turned another corridor and heard frantic scrabbling coming from a nearby room, the sound of plastic containers being knocked over, little tiny rattles as they hit the ground.

  The noise was coming from the pharmacy. I slowed down as I approached, unsure who or what was inside. When I reached the door, I could see the lock had been forced open. I crept to the doorway and poked my head round to see inside.

  It was Doctor Morgan, rifling through the medicine cabinets, searching for something. I spotted he had a large rucksack open behind him, filled with small plastic pill containers.

  He didn’t notice my arrival. Instead he took a container from one of the shelves and opened it, popping several small orange pills into his mouth. I watched as he put the container into the backpack.

  Oxycontin.

  “What are you doing?” I said, even though I knew damn well what he was doing.

  “Resupplying,” said Morgan.

  He smiled at me, trying to seem calm and in control. I noticed that the tremor in his hands had stopped. The shakes were gone.

  Morgan was an addict.

  “Tell me you’ve searched the building,” I said, “That you didn’t drag me here just to help you get your fix.”

  “I’ve looked,” he said.

  “Did you find anyone?”

  “No,” he said, returning his attention to the pill cabinets around him.

  “You must be devastated,” I said.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Diana,” I said, “The woman we were looking for.”

  “She isn’t here. She must have moved on. We’ll look for her after I’ve restocked.”

  “Debbie. You said her name was Debbie.”

  He paused again. “Look, you’ve helped me out. I’ll help you out. Just let me get what I need and we’ll head back. Stone will let us back into camp and I’ll explain everything.”