Jimmy's head snapped to one side. A thin line appeared on the opposite side of his neck. Dark blood seeped out.
“Oh shit,” said Angie. “I'm sorry. You're hurt bad, Jimmy. Please stop.”
Jimmy moaned and reached for Angie again. His head hung limply to one side. His mouth chewed at the air.
“Goddammit, Jimmy!” yelled Angie and swung the extinguisher the other way. Jimmy's head whipped to the other side. The skin on his neck split and with a sloppy cracking noise his head came free.
Both Angie and Freeda screamed as Jimmy's head fell to the floor and bounced. Jimmy's body slumped, blood seeping from its open neck.
“Oh shit, you killed him!” said Freeda, sounding near crying.
“I know!” said Angie, dropping the extinguisher. “But he wouldn't stop! He wouldn't fucking stop!”
Then she noticed something.
Jimmy's head lay on its cheek against the emergency room floor. But Jimmy's mouth was still moving. His cloudy eyes looked around and his teeth continued to gnash at nothing. His eyes found Angie and he ground his teeth at her.
“Okay,” said Angie. “Now I think we should go.”
Angie and Freeda ran for the doors to the waiting room, just as a crowd of people rushed in. It was the patients and aides who'd run out before. They were screaming.
They ran blindly past Angie and Freeda. Two men burst in after them. Angie recognized them as the jackass and his hurt buddy.
“We got problems,” said the jackass.
Seven
Fifteen Minutes Earlier
“Dammit,” said Park as he paced the waiting room. “How in the fuck could it possibly take this long?”
Moe was still grasping his arm. “It's only been a few minutes.”
“Few minutes of pissing me off.” Park looked back to the emergency room doors and scowled. The fat old bitty at the reception desk glanced at him, then looked down. Park snorted and turned to pace the other way.
He took one step.
An enormous crash came from the emergency room.
Park whipped back around. “Shit! What the fuck was that?”
The fat old bitty rushed to the doors. “I'll check. Stay here.” She pushed her way into the emergency room and the doors swung shut behind her.
Park watched her go, then turned to pace some more. He heard Moe stand and he turned back.
Moe frowned at the doors. “What do you think's going on, Park?”
Park shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Hopefully it clears a spot in there.” He looked at the doors for a second, then sighed. “I guess let's see.”
He walked to the doors and Moe followed. He pushed the doors open a crack and peered inside. Moe looked over his shoulder.
The emergency room was in shambles. An ambulance sat in the middle of the room. A large hole was ripped in one wall. Angie, the aide Park had talked to, was running to the ambulance.
“Damn,” said Moe. “Maybe we should help.”
“Fuck that shit,” said Park. “We need to get you to another hospital.” He stepped back from the door and turned to Moe.
Moe frowned. “But the nearest hospital is hours away.”
Park nodded back toward the emergency room. “I think here will take longer.”
Moe winced and looked pale. “Okay, but let's hurry. I don't feel so good.”
“Sure thing,” said Park. They both went toward the exit doors.
And stopped when they reached them.
Outside in the parking lot, two girls in cheerleader uniforms were ripping a grown man apart.
The man stood screaming as the girls tugged at him from either side. One ripped a chunk of his chest free and stuck the bloody meat into her mouth and chewed. Blood ran down her chin and she looked toward the hospital. And at Park.
Behind the cheerleaders, a crowd of people slowly drew near.
“Shit,” said Park.
A screaming mob of people burst from the emergency room. Park had less than a second to look back before the mob swept him and Moe outside.
“What the fuck?” yelled Park. He grabbed Moe and yanked him to one side of the parking lot, out of the way of the rushing mob.
The front of the mob ran into the crowd that was slowly coming the other way.
The mob started screaming.
Park stared as he watched one group of people eat the other.
“Park...” said Moe.
“Yeah,” said Park, still staring.
An old man missing one eye bit into a young girl's cheek. He pulled away a long strip of flesh and chewed. The young girl shrieked.
“They're eating them,” finished Park.
“I think we should go back inside,” said Moe.
“Yeah.”
They turned and tried to push their way back into the hospital. The back end of the mob was still trying to push its way out. They were screaming about whatever had sent them running from the emergency room. The front of the mob was screaming as the approaching crowd bit and ripped at them. The whole world was full of screams.
Moe stopped in the middle of the mob. He swayed back and forth. “Park...”
“Not now!” said Park, grabbing Moe's collar and pulling him toward the doors.
“I don't feel so good,” said Moe.
“Turn around you dumb motherfuckers!” yelled Park as he forced his way through the mob.
“Park!” Moe screamed.
Park turned back. One of the crazy cannibals - a fat woman in a rotting dress - had hold of Moe and was pulling him down to the asphalt. Her mouth was open and she was straining to bite.
“Shit!” yelled Park. Moe fell out of sight, lost in the dark of the parking lot and the shadows of the surrounding mob. “Moe!”
People pressed around Park. Moe's hand slipped from his grasp. Into darkness.
“Damn it,” said Park, fishing out his lighter. He shoved people aside and flicked the lighter on, bending down to where he had last seen Moe.
Moe was struggling with the fat woman, who was doing her best to bite but hadn't succeeded. The woman pulled away from Park's lighter, hissing at the flame and letting go of Moe.
Park grabbed Moe's hand and pulled him up. “Come on!” He snapped the lighter off and dropped it back in his pocket.
The woman grabbed for Moe again.
“Fuck off!” yelled Park, punching the woman in the face. Her head snapped back, then slowly righted as if nothing had happened. She groaned at them.
Park looked around. The crazies were closer. They were working their way through the mob, drawing nearer to the doors. Blood was everywhere. The thick smell of it stung Park's nose.
Finally, the remaining mob behind Park realized what was happening. They screamed and changed direction, running back into the hospital. Park almost fell backward at the sudden shift.
“Hurry!” he yelled, pulling Moe toward the hospital. The crazy woman grabbed at them but missed.
Park and Moe spilled back into the waiting room.
“Shit fuck hell,” Park muttered, looking around. The mob was rushing back into the emergency room. Park saw nowhere else to go, so he followed, pulling Moe with him.
As they entered, he almost collided with Angie and some other aide.
“We got problems,” he said.
Eight
Brooke sighed as she clicked the TV remote. Why couldn't she just find something mindless the three of them could watch, just to pass the time?
The doorbell rang.
Dalton sat up on the couch. “Pizza!”
“Stay put,” said Brooke, standing and setting the remote down. “I'll get it.”
She walked to the front door and opened it. A teenage boy stood there, holding a pizza box. His hat said Pizza Plaza.
“Hey,” said Brooke, unzipping her purse.
“Hi,” said the boy, looking up and down the street. “There something going on around here tonight?”
“Hmmm?” said Brooke, half-listening as she rooted around
for cash.
“Got a lot of weirdos wandering around tonight,” said the boy, looking back at her.
“Who knows,” said Brooke, finding a twenty and looking back up at the boy. “Got too much on my mind tonight, watching these two.”
“Yeah.” The boy tried a little laugh. “Anyway, $18.50.”
And an old woman came up and bit the boy's neck. He gasped in surprise. Blood shot out of his throat and onto Brooke's shirt. Huge drops of it fell on the pizza box.
Brooke screamed and slammed the door.
Shock gave way to guilt and she opened the door to help.
“What's going on?” said Dalton behind her.
The boy was now being dragged down the street by two old ladies. The first one chewed on his neck as he struggled weakly. The second old lady grabbed one of his arms and brought his hand to her mouth. She bit into the top and tore off a huge flap of skin, exposing bone and muscle. The boy tried to scream and gargled in his own blood.
“Oh shit,” said Brooke, staring.
“Oooh,” said Maylee from across the room. “Big girl gets to cuss.”
“Shut the fuck up, Maylee,” said Brooke, shutting the door and locking it. She stepped away from the door, fishing into her purse for her cell phone. She had to call the cops.
“Nice,” said Maylee, getting up and stomping to the door. “Don't tell me what to do, bitch.”
She opened the door and screamed.
A man in a muddy suit grabbed her and pulled her out the door.
“Maylee!” yelled Dalton, racing outside.
“Damn it!” yelled Brooke, following.
Outside, Maylee was struggling with the man. He was trying to bite her but Maylee was barely holding him off. Two teenagers were approaching. One had half his face missing.
Dalton grabbed one of Maylee's shoulders. Brooke grabbed the other. The man pulled Maylee toward him. The teenagers drew near.
Maylee screamed and kicked the man in the face. He fell back and let go.
Dalton and Brooke pulled Maylee inside as the teenagers grabbed for them. Dalton shut the door and locked it.
“What the fuck!” shrieked Maylee.
“Don't open the door!” said Brooke.
“No shit, really?” said Maylee, pacing. “What the hell is going on?”
“I don't know,” said Brooke, looking for her phone again.
Dalton was looking out the large front window. “They're eating the pizza guy.”
“You mean the pizza,” said Maylee.
“No,” said Brooke, “he means the pizza guy.”
Maylee went to the window and looked. “Oh shit.”
“The cops aren't answering,” said Brooke, holding her cell phone to her ear. “Why the hell aren't they answering?”
Maylee and Dalton turned to look at Brooke. Maylee walked over. “Let me try.”
“I know how to dial, Maylee,” said Brooke.
The window crashed in. Four arms grabbed Dalton and pulled him outside.
“Fuck!” yelled Maylee, running and jumping out the window.
“Damn it!” yelled Brooke. “I'm in charge here! Stay inside!”
She ran to the window. Maylee was pulling Dalton away from the two teenagers. Brooke climbed out to help. One of the old ladies, face covered in the pizza boy's blood, grabbed her.
The smell from the woman was awful. Her skin was clammy and cold. Brooke's grandfather had died two years ago. Brooke had touched him in the coffin. His skin then felt like the old woman's now. The woman hissed at her and leaned in to bite.
Maylee's foot slammed into the woman's head. The old woman fell over and Brooke scrambled away.
“Hitting them in the head seems to help,” said Maylee.
“Back in the house,” said Brooke. The old woman was getting up. The teenagers were closing in. The man with the muddy suit was coming up from one side.
She helped Dalton back in the window. Maylee climbed in and Brooke followed. The group of crazy attackers was approaching the window.
“We need to block the window,” said Maylee.
“Here,” said Brooke. “Help me.” She grabbed hold of the couch and pushed it toward the window. Maylee and Dalton joined her. The three of them tipped the couch up onto its side, against the window. The crazies outside pushed at it.
The three of them stepped back and looked at the couch. “That's not gonna hold long,” said Dalton.
The couch started falling forward. Brooke caught it. Maylee and Dalton each grabbed a side. Arms reached past the couch and grabbed at them. One of the arms was missing most of its flesh.
“This isn't working!” yelled Maylee.
“Shit!” said Brooke. “Run!”
They ran away from the couch, across the living room and into the hall. The couch thumped to the floor behind them.
“Get to the back door!” said Brooke.
“Wow, no shit?” said Maylee.
“Not now, Maylee!” yelled Brooke.
They ran into the kitchen. They stopped, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum.
A man in an old-fashioned suit was there, stumbling toward them. His skin was dry and taut against his skull. Thin white hair barely hung from his scalp.
Brooke blinked.
His eyes were gone.
He groaned at them.
Dalton screamed from behind Brooke. The back door that led out from the kitchen slammed open. A large woman missing an arm staggered in.
“Come on!” yelled Maylee from behind Brooke. “We can get out my bedroom window!”
Brooke shook her head clear.
“Yeah,” she said. The three of them ran from the kitchen.
They made it to Maylee's bedroom. Maylee climbed onto the bed and knelt by her window. She undid the lock and pushed the window up.
“Come on!” she said, looking back at Brooke and Dalton.
A withered hand reached inside and grabbed Maylee's hair.
“Maylee!” Dalton screamed and rushed to the bed. Brooke followed.
Dalton grabbed the arm and tugged. Brooke grabbed the arm and tried to push it out the window.
Maylee frantically tugged at the fingers in her hair. Brooke changed tactics and tried to help. She did her best to pull the fingers from Maylee's hair. Maylee grunted and squirmed. Brooke could hear panic in her voice.
Dalton yelled and leaned backward, pulling at the arm as hard as he could. With a sloppy tearing noise a huge sheet of skin came free of the arm. He screamed and dropped the skin.
The arm showed no reaction. It pulled Maylee toward the window.
Brooke let go and stood on the bed. She grabbed the window and slammed it down on the arm.
The arm didn't flinch.
“Shit,” she said, pulling the window back up.
The arm pulled Maylee closer to the window. Maylee screamed.
Brooke slammed the window down again. It bounced off the arm, snapping back up a few inches.
The arm kept pulling Maylee steadily toward the window. Maylee kicked at the bed, dragging dirt across the sheets.
“Goddamn it!” yelled Brooke, pulling the window up.
“Look out!” screamed Maylee, her head drawing near to the windowsill.
Brooke screamed and slammed the window down as hard as she could. It hit the arm on the wrist, inches away from Maylee's head.
The wrist snapped and the hand tore free. Maylee scrambled up and off the bed. She screamed with disgust as she pulled the hand out of her hair and dropped it.
“What the fuck!” she shrieked.
“There's no blood,” said Dalton.
Brooke and Maylee looked at the severed hand on the floor. There was no blood anywhere.
“What the fuck!” Maylee repeated. “Why the fuck isn't there any blood?”
Groans came from the living room and kitchen.
“Shit,” said Brooke. “We need to get to a room they can't get in.”
“The bathroom,” said Dalton. “There's no windows.
”
Brooke nodded. “Hurry.”
She led them to the hallway. A crash came from the living room and they stopped to look. Three crazies were climbing over the fallen couch. A fourth was stepping onto the TV, which had apparently just fallen.
Groaning came from Brooke's side. Cold hands grabbed her and Dalton screamed. The eyeless man from the kitchen had her.
Brooke screamed and tried to push the man away. He clacked his rotten teeth together, inches away from biting her.
“Let her go!” yelled Dalton, kicking the man in the side.
Maylee ran back into her bedroom.
“Maylee!” yelled Brooke, struggling with the man. “We have to stay together!”
The four crazies in the living room were getting closer.
“Let her go!” Dalton repeated, kicking the man again.
Maylee ran back into the hallway, holding an aluminum baseball bat. Screeching, she brought the bat down on the man's head. The man's skull caved, crumpling his forehead into a frown. The man let go.
“See!” yelled Maylee. “The head!”
Brooke pushed the man back into the kitchen. She briefly noticed the woman missing an arm - the one who'd followed the man into the kitchen - was gone.
“Into the bathroom,” she said. “Hurry!”
They rushed further down the hallway, then banked left in the bathroom. Brooke turned, let Maylee and Dalton past her, and shut the door. Brooke's sweating hands fumbled as she pushed the handle in and turned it, locking the door.
Maylee sat back against the sink, clutching the bat. Dried skin caked the top of it. Dalton leaned against the toilet.
For a second they all stared at each other, panting.
Then the shower curtain collapsed at them. It draped Brooke, knocking her to the floor. Brooke felt the weight of a person atop her, writhing against the curtain that separated them. Groaning breath hit where the curtain stretched against Brooke's cheek. The breath smelled foul but had no heat. It was cold.
Brooke screamed and pushed up. A hand grabbed at her and teeth ground against the curtain.
Brooke heard Dalton and Maylee screaming. The person atop her shook as something repeatedly struck them. Maylee's bat, Brook realized.
Lakewood Memorial Page 4