“What I want is a beer,” said Moe.
“You're in a hospital, Moe.” Park looked around for the machine. Angie was talking to a balding man. She looked pissed.
Park looked back to Moe and smirked. “So you obviously can't have a fucking beer. What you can fucking have is a fucking soda.” He rattled the coins in his hand. “Do you want one or not?”
Moe smirked back and shrugged. “Sure.”
“Fine,” said Park. He started to stand. The balding man walked past him on the way to the emergency room. Park sat back down and watched him go.
Park grunted. “Sure,” he said loudly enough for the fat old bitty to hear. “He gets to go in.”
“That was the doctor,” said the fat old bitty.
“You shitting me?” said Park. “That was the doctor? Thanks for fucking telling him we got a hurt man here.”
The fat old bitty sighed. “Please, sir, just be patient. I will let you know when he can see you.”
Park snorted and stood. “Yeah, well, don't fucking hurt yourself rushing to help.” He turned and walked to the soda machine.
Angie was sitting next to the machine. She stared at her cell phone as she slowly punched numbers in.
“Hey,” said Park. “Not to interrupt whatever chat you're about to have, but my friend is hurt pretty bad. Are you people gonna get off your asses and do something?”
Angie looked up at him. She was mad, and Park was used to people being mad at him. But there was something else in her eyes. It took Park a second to recognize it.
Despair.
Then it was gone. “Sure,” she said, snapping the phone shut. “But I'm just an aide. At least for tonight. I'll get you a nurse.”
Five
Angie stepped back into the emergency room and looked around. Chaos. Every bed and chair was full. Aides scurried around, trying to attend to all the injured. Tend, hell, she thought. It looks like it's all they can do to keep up.
And all the injured had that same scared, confused look.
Dr. Gordon was gone. No nurses were in sight. Not even a free area the jackass' friend could sit.
She found Freeda, who was still tending to the wounded boy. The boy looked ill now, pale and sweating.
That's odd. He hasn't lost enough blood for that.
Freeda saw her and gave a weary smile.
Angie stepped over. “Where's Ruby? We got a guy in the waiting room who's bleeding pretty badly.”
Freeda frowned. “Dunno. Outside smoking, I guess.”
“Now? Great.”
The dispatch radio sprang to life.
* * *
Ruby cursed and took a tight-lipped drag on her cigarette. She felt ridiculous, hiding outside in the dark to smoke. She considered walking down to the east wing of the building, where the ground sloped away from the hospital and no one would be able to see her from the windows. As far as she could remember, there weren't even any patients on that wing tonight. But that would be too ridiculous. She was a grown woman.
All the same, she hoped no one saw her. Her numerous failed attempts to quit smoking were hospital legend. And she was in no mood to catch any crap about failing again. If she couldn't smoke on a night as crazy as this, when could she?
She squinted out into the dark. The only light came from the door behind her. She couldn't see anything beyond a few feet.
She took another drag. She had to hurry. The ambulance would arrive soon, and there'd be no time for smoking then.
A shuffling sound came from the dark.
“Shit,” she said, expecting an aide or even Dr. Gordon to appear and chastise her. But no one emerged.
She heard more shuffling. Then a slight groan.
Ruby frowned and took a third drag. More shuffling. Shaky, uneven footsteps. From more than two feet. Then another groan, from a different mouth.
“What the hell is going on?” she said, flicking the cigarette away and stepping into the dark.
After a few steps, she couldn't see a thing. The only light came from a few feet behind her. She heard moaning, grunting and the sounds of people stumbling.
“Is someone hurt?” she said.
Two arms landed on her shoulders. Cold hands clutched at her.
“Hey!” she said, twisting away from the arms. She was now standing facing the doorway and the only light. She heard movement next to her and took a step backward, further into the dark.
She backed into someone else. Cold arms closed clumsily around her breasts. The arms smelled awful.
“Get your hands off me!” Ruby yelled, angry now. She pulled the arms away from her. The skin on the arms felt wrong. Cold and spongy. She was wondering about that when a cold mouth closed on her ear.
She gasped as the mouth bit her ear off.
Pain shot through her head and she screamed, falling away from the arms as hot liquid ran down her cheek. She landed on her knees. She wanted to cover the wound, but it hurt too much to touch.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Ruby shrieked into the darkness. She squinted but couldn't see anything.
A pair of legs ran into her back. Someone above her groaned and reached down, grabbing her hair. Ruby screamed and fought. The hands fumbled, a cold finger landing in the hole where her ear had been. The pain was so intense Ruby felt faint.
“Help!” Ruby yelled and wrenched away from the hands. She tried to stand but fell forward, still dizzy from pain. She landed on her stomach. Hands closed on her legs.
“Stop it!” Ruby yelled. A cold mouth closed on her calf. And bit. Teeth ground into her leg and tore a chunk free.
Ruby turned onto her back and kicked with her good leg. Something caught the leg and held tight. A second pair of hands closed on her head.
“Help!” Ruby screamed, cold fingers straying into her mouth. She fought and kicked, but the clammy hands held fast.
A third set of hands landed on her stomach. The hands fumbled with her clothes, pulling clumsily.
Ruby tried to scream but her mouth was full of cold fingers.
The hands on her stomach found skin. She heard groaning and the fingers dug into her stomach. Her shrieks were muffled as the hands pushed further into her. She felt her muscle and viscera tear. She felt bits of her being pulled out.
Then she felt nothing.
Six
The dispatch radio spat out static. Angie turned to look. Rick, still sitting at the dispatch desk, frowned. He leaned forward and clicked the microphone.
“Max? Pete?” he said.
Static. “Rick?” Static.
Rick clicked the microphone. “Where are you guys?”
“Shit!” Static. Garbled screaming. More static.
Click. “Guys?”
Angie started walking toward Rick's desk. Nurse Paula and the other aides turned to look. Even the patients turned to look.
Rick looked worried and clicked again. “Max? Pete? Come in.”
Static. “Oh my god! Oh shit!” Static. Garbled screaming and groaning.
Angie reached Rick's back. She leaned forward to listen. Rick didn't notice. Angie peered out the glass ambulance entrance doors. She saw lights flicker outside.
“Guys?” Rick said, panic creeping into his voice.
“Oh god no!” Static. Screaming and gurgling. Wet choking sounds. Static.
Twin lights appeared outside. Approaching fast. Moving frantically side to side, but getting closer.
“Rick...” Angie started, surprised when her voice came out as a whisper.
“Max! Pete!” Rick screamed into the microphone. Only static replied. The lights were growing, huge and blaring into the emergency room.
“Rick!” Angie said, full volume now. “Oh shit.”
“Guys!” Rick yelled into the microphone.
People behind her started screaming. The lights blared. An engine roared.
“Rick!” Angie yelled. She grabbed his collar and pulled him from the chair.
The glass doors and the wall surr
ounding them exploded. Angie was lost in heat and noise. She fell to one side, still holding Rick's hand. The dispatch desk flew past her, slamming into something. Angie couldn't tell what. All she knew was falling and the sounds of destruction.
Then, silence. Not real silence, just relative silence after the chaos. Angie blinked. She was lying on the emergency room floor. People around her cried and whimpered. She smelled smoke. No, an engine. An overheated engine.
Her head was turned away from Rick, but she could still feel his hand in hers. She tugged. The hand was oddly stuck in place.
“Rick?” she said, then turned her head to look.
One of Rick's eyes stared at her, wide and bulging. The other eye was gone. Lost along with most of his head, crushed flat under the wheel of the ambulance.
Angie screamed and let go, scrambling to her knees. Rick's head oozed blood and a thick, gray glop. Angie felt sick.
“Oh shit,” came Freeda's voice from behind her.
Angie pushed down her vomit and stood. She looked around. Patients lined the walls, looking stunned. Aides stood with the patients. Angie barely knew any of them. They were newbies, and all clearly looked like they had quit the hospital the second the ambulance crashed through the wall.
Angie looked back at the ambulance. She spoke, her voice a hoarse whisper. “Freeda, where's Ruby?”
“Still out smoking,” said Freeda from behind her.
Angie turned to look at Freeda. “Where's Paula?”
Freeda looked around, pale. She pointed, and Angie looked. The dispatch desk was smashed against the far wall. Nurse Paula was slumped over the desk's remains. Or, at least, the top half of her was.
Angie's stomach quivered as she turned back. “Shit.”
She shook her head clear. “Okay then. Freeda, check the patients. I'll check the ambulance.”
She moved to the ambulance - careful not to look at Rick's body or even think about it - and grabbed the driver's side door handle. She tugged but the door stayed shut. The window was cracked so badly she couldn't see in.
“Everyone stay calm,” said Freeda behind her. “We'll find Nurse Ruby and Dr. Gordon and get everyone looked at.”
Angie pulled on the door again, but it was locked or stuck. “Hello?” she called and knocked on the window. “Is everyone okay?”
She stepped onto the running board and peered between the cracks in the window. The front was empty. Something dark covered the driver's seat.
She hopped down and ran to the back. She was reaching for the door when something slammed against it from the inside.
Angie was so startled she stumbled backward, tripping over rubble from the destroyed wall. The patients began to squirm and mutter.
“Please stay calm,” said Freeda to the patients. “Dr. Gordon will be here soon.”
Angie looked at Freeda. “Call Nurse Ruby.”
“What do you think I'm doing?” said Freeda, forcing a smile and holding her cell phone to her ear. “She's not answering.”
Another whump! came from inside the ambulance. The door rattled. Angie turned back to face it.
“Hold on,” she said to whomever was inside. “We're coming.”
She grabbed the handle and opened the door.
First she saw blood. Red smeared everywhere across the silver of the ambulance. The thick copper smell of it was overwhelming.
Next she saw Pete, the driver. He was lying flat on the floor, splayed with his legs toward the driver's seat. The skin of his face was peeled back toward his scalp, revealing veins, muscle and two bulging eyes. Chunks of muscle were gone, his skull showing through underneath.
Then she saw Jimmy, the gunshot victim. The kid who'd tried to stick up Ed's. He sat on the floor of the ambulance, with Max - the paramedic - across his lap. Most of Max's throat was gone. Blood covered Jimmy's lap. Jimmy reached into Max's throat and pulled out a handful of stringy connective tissue. He shoved it into his mouth and chewed.
Jimmy saw Angie and dropped Max. He groaned and reached for her.
Angie screamed and slammed the door. She could hear Jimmy scratching from the inside. The patients gasped.
“Ms. Land!” came Dr. Gordon's voice from across the room. Jimmy pushed against the door.
Dr. Gordon strode quickly to the ambulance. “I knew you were lax in your duties, but slamming doors on the injured?”
“Dr. Gordon, wait...” said Angie, struggling to hold the door shut. Jimmy groaned.
Dr. Gordon stepped up next to her. “You were damned near fired before. You're damned fired now.”
He pushed her aside and pulled on the door.
Jimmy fell forward as the door swung open. He clutched hold of Dr. Gordon's stomach.
“Whoa, there,” said Dr. Gordon. “Don't strain yourse...” Then he screamed as Jimmy bit into his stomach.
Angie screamed and pulled Dr. Gordon back. Jimmy held tight and fell out of the ambulance, his face buried in Dr. Gordon's stomach. Blood ran past Jimmy's head and onto the floor.
“Freeda!” yelled Angie. “Help!” She tugged on Dr. Gordon. But Jimmy would not come free. Jimmy moaned ecstatically and pushed his face further into Dr. Gordon. His head disappeared into Dr. Gordon's stomach.
Dr. Gordon shrieked and bucked. Blood ran from his nose and mouth. Freeda reached them and grabbed hold of Dr. Gordon's shoulders. Jimmy groaned, muffled from within Dr. Gordon's innards.
Dr. Gordon stopped shrieking and his head lolled back. Jimmy tried to push himself deeper inside. Angie put a foot on Jimmy's torso.
“Pull!” she yelled and both she and Freeda yanked back. Jimmy's head came free of Dr. Gordon with a horrible wet sound.
Angie and Freeda fell back with Dr. Gordon. Angie landed on her tail bone and pain shot through her. Freeda landed next to her. Dr. Gordon was splayed across both their laps.
Jimmy knelt where he had fallen, chewing on something. His face and shoulders were covered in blood and meat. Thick red cords ran from his mouth to Dr. Gordon's ruined abdomen. Angie blinked and realized they were intestines.
Jimmy moaned and chewed.
The patients screamed and ran in all directions.
Most of the patients rushed out the door to the waiting room. The other aides went with them. They quickly crowded together and blocked the way out. Those who were left started screaming and pulling at each other, trying to get through.
Angie sat stupefied, staring at Jimmy eating Dr. Gordon's intestines. Her tail bone smarted but she barely registered the pain.
Freeda scrambled away from Dr. Gordon's body and stood. “Come on,” she said. “Let's go.”
Angie shook her head clear. “No.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
Angie stood, doing her best to ease Dr. Gordon's body down. “We can't leave him here with the patients.” She pointed at Jimmy, who ignored them and chewed. “He can get to the patient rooms from here. Hell, he can get to the maternity ward.”
People behind her screamed and clawed at each other.
Freeda frowned. “Shit. The Wilson triplets.”
Angie nodded and wiped sweat from her face.
Freeda looked at Jimmy, then back at her. “He's fucking eating him.”
“I know,” said Angie. “Try not to look.”
The crowd behind them broke through the jam and they poured out of the room.
Freeda sighed. “You're crazy.”
“Someone has to do something.”
Jimmy groaned and looked at Freeda. He dropped the intestines and crawled toward her.
“Oh shit,” said Freeda. “This is crazy.” She backed away, hiding behind Angie.
Jimmy slowly climbed to his feet. He stared at Angie and Freeda through clouded eyes. Blood ran from his mouth.
“Okay,” said Angie, stepping back. “Jimmy? Try to calm down. I think you're on something very bad. Just try to rest, okay?”
Jimmy gurgled through the blood in his mouth and reached for them. Freeda screamed and jumped back. Angie
stepped the other way. Jimmy followed Freeda.
“Anj...” said Freeda, sounding very nervous.
“Jimmy?” said Angie. “You've been in a very bad accident. I really think you should lie down.”
Jimmy grabbed at Freeda. Freeda ducked out of the way but he caught hold of her smock.
“Hey!” said Angie, shoving Jimmy.
He stumbled away from Freeda and let go. Freeda ran off to one side. Jimmy blinked his fogged eyes and gargled in blood.
Finally his attention fell on Angie.
He groaned and came at her.
“Jimmy, stop it,” said Angie, backing away, toward the ambulance.
Jimmy kept coming.
“Stop it, Jimmy!” Angie said, trying to sound forceful.
Her back met the ambulance. Jimmy drew close.
Freeda yelled and smacked Jimmy across the back of the head with something heavy. As Jimmy fell, Angie saw it was a fire extinguisher.
“Shit,” said Freeda, looking at the extinguisher and then at Angie.
“Thanks,” said Angie. “Now let's call the cops.”
Jimmy grunted and started climbing to his feet.
“Wow,” said Freeda, looking down.
Angie stepped over to Freeda. “Give me that,” she said, taking the fire extinguisher.
“Jimmy?” she said. “Please stay down. We don't want to hurt you any more.”
Jimmy finished standing.
“How hard did you hit him?” asked Angie.
“Hard,” said Freeda.
“Shit,” said Angie. Jimmy groaned and reached for her, teeth gnashing.
Angie screamed and swung the extinguisher at his head. His head snapped back and he fell over backward.
“Damn it, Jimmy,” said Angie, shaking a little. “Don't make me hurt you any more.”
Jimmy stirred and started to stand.
“Oh shit,” said Freeda.
“Jimmy, please,” said Angie. “You have to stop.” She thought about what she'd heard about Old Timmins. How he hadn't stopped until a cop shot him.
Jimmy got to his feet and grabbed Angie. He pulled her toward himself, his mouth strained open to bite.
“Anj!” yelled Freeda.
Angie pulled free and swung the fire extinguisher at the side of Jimmy's head. Fear and adrenaline fueled the blow. She almost strained her back from the force.
Lakewood Memorial Page 3