“He's having a heart attack,” Doc cried out.
Allen and Colleen quickly approached and assisted Bloom to the sofa while Doc ran for his bag near Styles. Bloom collapsed and appeared unresponsive.
“Doc!” Allen called.
Doc hurried for them and took Bloom's pulse. He immediately appeared alarmed and began digging through his medical bag. “Get him on the floor! He needs CPR!”
Allen and another man moved Bloom to the floor while Colleen gave them room. Doc knelt alongside him and tossed Allen a disposable resuscitator.
“Hold this over his mouth and nose and squeeze when I tell you to,” Doc announced firmly to Allen.
Allen moved to Bloom's head and placed the device over his nose and mouth. Doc started chest compressions and indicated to Allen when to pump the air. Some of those remaining in the lobby watched Doc while others stared at the zombies collecting outside the glass doors. Bloom opened his eyes and began to move. They stopped CPR and appeared relieved. Rev. Bloom suddenly grabbed Allen, pulled him on top of him, and tore into his neck. Allen screamed and pulled away while leaping to his feet, tearing his flesh, and causing blood to spray everywhere. Doc jumped to his feet while staring with horror. Everyone within the room screamed and panicked. Several guests ran from the lobby. Allen collapsed to the floor while clutching his neck as it gushed blood. Colleen dove to his side and attempted to stop her husband's bleeding.
Zombie Bloom grabbed Doc's ankle and attempted to bite his lower leg. Doc cried out while pulling away, lost his balance, and fell to the floor. His head roughly struck the hard floor. Bloom lunged for Doc alongside him, hovered over his unconscious body, and went for his throat. Jetta was suddenly standing over Doc and kicked zombie Bloom in the face, throwing him across the floor with amazing force. Elise and Stacy grabbed Doc's arms and dragged him out of the way. Bloom moved to his hands and knees, looked at Jetta with dead eyes, and snarled at her. She stared at him with a look of horror as the fear momentarily paralyzed her. For a moment, she was unable to move. Her expression suddenly hardened. She kicked him under the chin, tossing him onto his back. He lie motionless a moment then rolled over and again moved to his hands and knees while snarling viciously. Everyone screamed as he started to get up. Jetta was now filled with panic. She had given him two hard shots, which either should have stopped him. It wasn't possible for him to be moving.
“Jetta!” Styles cried out.
Jetta looked at Styles on the sofa behind her. He tossed her his revolver. Jetta caught the gun, turned to zombie Bloom, and, without hesitation, shot him in the head. Zombie Bloom collapsed to the floor as blood poured from his head. There was more screaming from around the lobby. Allen suddenly sat up, surprising Colleen, and grabbed her arm. As he attempted to bite her, she screamed. Jetta turned with the gun aimed and shot zombie Allen in the head. His head snapped back as he flew backwards. He struck the floor and lay motionless. There was an eerie moment as everyone stood frozen and stared at the large amounts of blood rapidly spreading across the lobby floor from the dead men. Colleen suddenly screamed, jolting everyone back to reality, and then she sobbed uncontrollably. She looked at Jetta, who just stared blankly at the dead man. The gun remained clutched in her hand with her finger tightly on the trigger.
“You killed him! You killed my husband!” Colleen screamed.
Jetta lowered the gun that now trembled in her hand, walked toward the elevators, and slowly sank down the wall while holding her head and the gun. She didn't know what to think. Her mind was suddenly blank. There was a loud thump against the beachside doors, which startled everyone. Stacy jumped with a scream. Bishop stood before the doors with his gun in his hand. His shirt and hands were covered in blood. Bishop pounded on the door with a look of horror on his face.
“Let me in!” Bishop muffled a shout.
Stacy hurried for the doors. Elise suddenly appeared before her and prevented her from reaching the doors.
“We can't let him in! He's been injured! He's going to become one of them just like Rev. Bloom!” Elise cried out.
Stacy stared at Elise with wide, horror-filled eyes. Jetta remained on the floor with her head in her hands while staring at the floor and appeared oblivious to her surroundings. Bishop continued to pound on the glass.
“Unlock the door,” Bishop yelled with panic in his voice. “What's wrong with you? Let me the hell in!”
Elise approached the door and folded her arms across her chest. “You've been infected. We can't let you in. Go away!”
“Let me in, you fucking bitch!” Bishop looked behind him and appeared horrified. “Oh, shit!”
Bishop turned as a zombie approached and shot it in the head. The zombie collapsed at his feet. Bishop jumped around to avoid the spilling blood. More zombies approached. He turned back to the door and pounded while Elise stared at him without sympathy. For a moment, it almost appeared as if it pleased her to leave him outside to die.
“We're not letting you in,” Elise said bluntly.
Jetta finally looked up and stared at the glass doors as if in another world. Bishop's eyes met hers from across the room. He appeared almost relieved to see her.
“Jetta! Jetta, let me in!” he pleaded with her.
Reality appeared to hit Jetta as she stared at Bishop pleading for his life just outside the doors. She sprang to her feet and ran for the beachside doors while placing the gun down the back of her pants. Elise stepped in front of her and stopped her.
“You saw what happened with Rev. Bloom. Look at him! He's been exposed!” Elise shouted defensively and appeared unwilling to back down. “I won't let you--”
Jetta sneered with disgust and shoved Elise from her path. She grabbed Jetta's arm to stop her. Jetta rammed her knee into Elise's side, spun into a backwards roundhouse kick, and struck her high on the chest. Elise flew backwards and rolled several times from the force of the kick. Jetta ran for the door. Bishop attempted to shoot a zombie nearly on top of him. The gun clicked empty. He kicked the zombie as Jetta unlocked and opened the door.
Bishop bolted into the lobby. Another zombie attempted to push its way inside. Jetta and Bishop pushed the door closed as the zombie pounded against the door. As Bishop held the door closed, Jetta locked it. Bishop appeared emotionally drained while replacing his gun to his shoulder holster. Elise slowly moved to her feet and was dazed from Jetta's forceful kick. Bishop saw Elise and something snapped. He snatched the gun from Jetta's pants, grabbed Elise by the throat with his bloody hand, and slammed her against the wall. Elise gasped with horror while struggling to loosen his grip as he aimed the gun at her face.
“You nearly killed me!”
Bishop's finger was tight on the trigger. Jetta moved alongside him, placed her hand on Bishop's arm, and pleaded with her eyes.
“Don't do this. We're all scared. Please, put down the gun,” Jetta said gently.
Bishop maintained his cold stare into Elise's terrified eyes. He lowered the gun and released her. Elise gasped and darted away from him. Bishop headed for the elevators and cast his back against the wall. Jetta slowly approached and stared at him in silence. He stared at the gun in his blood-covered hand while breathing heavily. He was visibly shaken from his ordeal.
“Hey--” Jetta said softly.
Bishop fidgeted, snorted a laugh, and handed her Styles' gun without making eye contact. “Not exactly my finest moment, huh?”
“I'm pretty sure I would have pulled the trigger,” Jetta said gently.
He looked at her and appeared surprised. She wasn't kidding either.
“The infection appears to be spread through bites,” she remarked while studying the blood covering him. “Were you bitten?”
He looked at the blood covering in him, shook his head, and finally relaxed. “No, I wasn't bitten. Scared half to death though. Is the building secure?”
“I think so. Everyone scattered when Rev. Bloom attacked one of the guests. Will you help bring some order to this chaos?”
<
br /> “Yeah, sure,” Bishop said with an exhausted sigh. “Let me wash this off and get another clip for my gun. You can tell me the plan then.”
The elevator doors opened to reveal Carter and Lee. Both looked at Bishop covered in blood and appeared horrified by his appearance.
“My God, are you all right?” Carter asked.
He walked past them without comment and entered the elevator. The doors shut behind him.
Chapter Twenty
Nearly eight hundred men, women, and children screamed while pushing their way into the large high school gymnasium. The commotion among the surviving spectators grew louder. Some people screamed and others cried as the chatter escalated to deafening levels and echoed off the tall ceiling. No one really knew what was happening. Mothers and fathers called for their children while pushing through the crowd attempting to locate them. There were a few joyful reunions but not nearly enough. Faint screams of those being torn apart could be heard coming from the distant football field. Two security guards looked out the open doors, saw a group of blood-strewn zombies approaching in the distance, and appeared horrified.
“The crazy people are coming!” one guard cried out, alerting the others.
The guards began closing the doors. Another man, Hanson, who stood near the doors with them, prevented them from shutting the doors.
“Wait,” he cried out. “Look!”
A few others crowded near the doors despite the pleas of others to shut them. Tanner was seen charging across the school grounds toward the gymnasium with the crying girl now in his arms. The away team zombies chased him and were nearly upon him. The people began screaming for him to run faster. Tanner raced through the doors into the gymnasium with the little girl. The guards slammed and bolted the doors behind him. The zombie football players struck the doors with force, causing them to vibrate. Everyone jumped back with alarm. The crowd started screaming while pushing and shoving their way to the far end of the gym. The pounding outside the doors ceased. The guards listened by the doors. The gymnasium fell eerily silent. One of the guards appeared to relax and turned toward the crowd.
“I think they're gone,” he announced.
There was a round of relieved sighs followed by sobbing. Hanson grabbed one of the guards by the arm and forced him to face him.
“We need to check the doors and windows on the entire first floor,” Hanson announced. “We have to make sure those crazy people can't get inside.”
The guard uncertainly nodded but remained frozen with fear. “I, uh, think the doors were locked already.”
“Well, we're going to go out there and find out,” Hanson informed him. Hanson looked at the crowd and clapped his hands loudly to get everyone's attention. “Okay, listen up! I need some volunteers to make sure the first floor is secure. Doors and windows locked. Once we go out those doors, I want them sealed behind us until we're sure no crazies got inside.”
“Are you insane?” a woman suddenly demanded. “If they're running around the school, you'll be killed!”
Hanson removed a semiautomatic from a concealed shoulder holster and cocked it. Several people gasped. “I'm betting I won't. I'm retired NYPD,” he announced. “We're wasting time. I can't cover that much territory on my own.”
Another man, Dixon, stood nearby and removed a knife from his boot. “Former Gulf War vet,” he announced proudly. “I'll go with you.”
“We should find you a better weapon,” Hanson remarked. “Maybe someone here has a gun.”
“Nah, this is all I need,” he replied with little emotion. “I'm pretty good with a knife. But I assure you, there are plenty of folks here packing.” Dixon looked around at the large group of men and women. “Most of you are my neighbors,” he announced sternly. “That means I know you pretty well. If you're packing, you're coming. If you're not coming, you're surrendering your weapon for our security sweep. I know who you are, so don't make me come and find you.”
Several women approached and removed revolvers from their purses. They handed them to Dixon and sheepishly walked away. Two more men approached and reluctantly volunteered to join them rather than surrender their weapons. It seemed as if there should have been more locals with weapons, but there wasn't a lot of time to argue. An attractive but serious looking woman, Remy, brandished her weapon, smirked her intent to join them, and headed toward the interior doors. Dixon and Hanson handed out the guns to the two guards, and one to each of the three other men, two of which would remain posted at both sets of doors. The six men joined Remy by the interior doors.
“I want those locker room doors barricaded until we get back,” Hanson announced to the large crowd. “If you've been injured, see this guy.” He pulled one of the men from the crowd and pointed at him. He had no idea who the man was.
“Me? Why me?” the man asked with surprise.
Hanson casually shrugged with little concern. “Why not you? Are you local?”
He nodded.
“Good, then you can find someone in here who's either a nurse, doctor, or something close enough.”
“I saw the vet, Gina,” he announced.
“See, you're doing great already,” Hanson informed him then turned toward the door with the other six volunteers and nodded them onward.
They opened the interior door, cautiously looked into the hallway, and left the security of the gymnasium. The two remaining men with guns shut and bolted the door behind them.
†
Within the school's main alcove, the six men and one woman regrouped after a brief search of the first floor. More than fifty zombies pushed against the glass doors outside the alcove. One of the guards pulled down the metal gate and locked it.
“The glass should hold,” the guard announced, “but it doesn't hurt to have a second line of defense.”
“What's wrong with those people?” Dixon asked as he stared at the blood-covered zombies outside the glass. “Some are injured pretty badly. How are they still standing?”
The guard uncertainly shook his head while watching from a safe distance. “Maybe it's mass insanity.”
“Rabies maybe,” Hanson remarked.
Dixon snapped out of his trance and looked away from the zombies at the doors. “The place seems secure,” he informed them. “We locked the stairway doors to be safe, but we should search the upper floors just in case. We may need to use the roof, if things go from bad to worse.”
“I was thinking the same things myself,” Hanson announced. “This place is like a fort. I think we can hide out in here pretty long. I assume there's a kitchen. A town on an island like this probably doesn't have school lunches catered.”
“Yeah, there's a kitchen. Got a delivery this morning,” the guard announced. “There's enough food to last a week or longer. Plenty of water too. There's a generator in the basement, so we're covered even if the power goes out.”
“You small-town people think of everything,” Hanson remarked while shaking his head.
“When you live on an island, you're pretty much isolated as it is,” the guard replied.
“Every single one of those pick-up trucks out there has a rifle and a radio in it,” Dixon informed him. “If we could get to one of them--”
“There's a radio in the principal's office,” Remy casually informed them.
“How do you know that?” Hanson asked.
She grinned. “Because I'm the principal.”
“Okay then, let's check on the others in the gym, give them the good news, and have a look at that radio,” Hanson announced. “Maybe we can call up someone to help.”
Remy led the way back to the gym with the others following her.
Dixon fell behind, walked alongside Hanson, and grinned. “Pretty hot for a principal, don't you think?”
“Let's just worry about staying alive right now. You can ask her out later.”
†
The people stranded within the gymnasium were restless but more relaxed then they had been earlier. They at least f
elt safe for the moment. The loss of lives on the field was devastating and difficult to calculate. It was unknown how many had died. The number of people within the gymnasium was nearly eight hundred, but there had been over one thousand at the game, including those on the field and in the stands. More than two hundred were unaccounted. The thought was sobering. Tanner walked through the crowded gym while holding the little girl's hand. She no longer cried and searched the crowd for her parents.
“See them?” he asked in a soothing voice.
She shook her head. He picked her up and carried her, giving her a better vantage point. She looked around while clinging to his shoulder pads beneath his jersey. They approached a small group of injured people. Gina, the town vet, was tending to their wounds.
Tanner eyed the quiet little girl he held in his arms. “Any of them?”
She shook her head.
“Gina, do you know this little girl?” Tanner asked. “I can't even get her name out of her.”
Gina glanced up at him as he held the little girl and shook her head. “She's not from Winter Harbor,” she replied. “She must have come with the visiting spectators.”
Tanner suddenly grimaced then looked at the little girl and smiled timidly. “You don't have an older brother who plays football, do you?”
Gina uncertainly looked back at them and shared the same look of dread. The little girl shook her head. Both appeared relieved. Tanner nodded toward Gina's small gathering of injured people sitting on the floor and appeared curious.
“Just minor injuries, I hope,” Tanner remarked.
“Mostly sprains,” she replied. “The crappy, generic first aid kit I found in the gym teacher's office doesn't have nearly enough supplies. I could use more ankle wraps.”
“The boy's locker room has all that stuff,” Tanner informed her. “I help myself all the time. It's where coach keeps most of his supplies.”
“If you could get that, I'd be grateful,” she announced and appeared relieved.
“Yeah, sure. Just wraps?”
“I have a few cuts,” she informed him. “If you can find anything I can use to close some deep cuts, it would be fantastic. A sewing kit, suture kit, or even some duct tape. I'm sort of desperate here.”
Insanely Deadly Page 14