CODE Z: An Undead Hospital Anthology

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  Doctor West ordered the nurses, “Atavan stat.” As Mr. Garcia continued to thrash in his restraints, the Doctor and Chuck held his arm while the nurse administered the sedative. Mr. Garcia slowed his thrashing, and became still. “Hook him back up and give him a Valium drip until we can figure out just what the hell is going on.” He left the room and returned to the nurse’s station. He punched up the emergency contacts and located the number for the CDC.

  April 20, 2011-12:10 A.M.

  Doctor West paged all night shift department heads to report to ER nurse station two. In seconds, beepers went off all over the hospital.

  12:14 A.M.

  Doctor West stood and calmly addressed the department heads, "For those of you not aware, we have a patient in isolation right now exhibiting symptoms of what may be viral hemorrhagic fever. We're waiting on blood tests to verify this diagnosis. I've alerted the CDC and briefed them on our patient. They'll be sending a team as soon as possible and have advised instituting level four protocols, which I have already done.” With this remark, the staff began to whisper to one another, shifting nervously on their feet. After a moment, Doctor West continued, “As of now, no one is to leave the hospital under any circumstances until the CDC team arrives and assesses the situation. All incoming patients will be redirected to FairfieldHospital. Security has locked down all exits to the building. These are all precautionary measures. The CDC team should be here within two hours." The murmuring began again as many member of the staff stared at Doctor West, many appeared to be in a near state of shock. Doctor Zimmerman began, "Doctor West, what are we supposed to…"

  Doctor West interrupted, "Doctor Zimmerman, would you please report to ICU/Isolation and ensure our patient is receiving aggressive antibiotic treatment and sedation? I'll join you there shortly. Nurse Hamilton, I would like you there as well. Everyone else please report back to your departments and quietly inform your staff, we don't want to cause a panic among the patients."

  12:37 A.M.

  Doctors Zimmerman and West stood by Mr. Garcia's bed in the ICU/Isolation ward. Nurse Hamilton, on the other side of the bed shook her head in silence.

  Doctor West spoke, "Time of death?"

  Susan looked at her watch, "Just now. 12:37 A.M."

  Steve turned to Doctor West and asked, "How could he have died from a viral infection in what? Three hours? I don't get it."

  Doctor West, shaking his head replied, "I don't know, I've never even heard of a virus that kills this fast."

  Cheryl Chapman, one of the duty nurses knocked on the window and held a clipboard up, "I have the lab results."

  As Susan pulled the sheet over Mr. Garcia, Steve and Doctor West entered the adjoining negative flow scrub room, removed and disposed of their protective clothing, scrubbed up, and walked into the hallway.

  Doctor West took the clipboard from Cheryl and scrutinized the results. As his eyes moved back and forth across the paper, they grew wide. "No trace of viral or bacteriological infections in the blood? Are you sure you brought me the right labs?"

  Cheryl nodded.

  "We need answers, not more questions," Steve said, a tremor in his voice.

  Doctor West handed the clipboard to Cheryl, "OK. Stay calm. The normal screenings wouldn’t necessarily turn up something like this.” He looked up at her, “Please take new blood samples from Mr. Garcia and prep them for CDC. Since I’ve contacted them, they’ll be interested in the results. "

  "Yes sir, I'll get right on it," Cheryl stepped into the scrub room.

  Doctor West turned to Steve, "Call the morgue and get a team up here to help you transport him downstairs and get him prepared for an autopsy. Let’s hope the CDC has a pathologist with them. Remember, level four protocols—we can’t have this thing spreading,” Doctor West turned and headed down the hall.

  12:41 A.M.

  Steve donned his protective gear and entered the isolation room just as the Cheryl finished drawing blood.

  With a disdainful glare at Cheryl he said, "Make sure you do it right this time.”

  She tried to maintain a civil tone and was almost successful, "Yes Doctor Zimmerman, I'll make sure it's done correctly, again." She placed the fresh vials of blood in the biohazard container, sealed it, and left the room.

  Steve picked up the phone and dialed the extension for the morgue, "This is Doctor Zimmerman, I need a gurney and two men up in isolation. We have a subject in need of transport to autopsy." After a short pause, "Just get up here, this is top priority." He hung up. "Once, just once, I'd like to have people around me who are competent." As he began to remove the patient's restraints, the man twitched. Steve stepped back and watched the man for a few moments. He didn't move again. Steve chalked it up to his imagination, and went back to removing the restraints. After freeing the patient's arms, he turned and began on the leg straps. With his back turned on Mr. Garcia, Steve heard a low rasping moan. His heart skipped a beat at the noise, he heard moans like these before with deceased subjects, he quickly convinced himself it was simply a case of gas.

  The man who had once been Mr. Garcia sprang upright in his bed, grabbing for the doctor. Steve turned on the spot, and barely escaped Garcia's grasp. He clawed at Steve's face as he fell forward, tearing through Steve's protective mask and leaving three long scratches on his cheek. The man's eyes were feral, there didn't appear to be anything human left in them. He snarled and lunged at Steve again, his left leg still partially strapped, he toppled over the side. His leg twisted and broke with a wet snap and his head smashed into the tile floor, opening a gaping wound.

  Garcia tried to rise, but still strapped to the table he kept falling. He lunged again at Steve and snapped like a wild dog. The leg strap gave way and he stood, unbalanced by the broken leg. Steve ran from the room screaming.

  As he cleared the door, Steve slammed into the two men from the morgue knocking all three of them to the floor. The infected appeared in the doorway. Its eyes fixed on the men on the ground. It limped toward them, dragging its broken leg behind it. It dropped to its knees right on top of one of the orderlies and sank its teeth into the man's bicep. The orderly shrieked and punched the infected's head as it ripped away a large chunk of flesh. The other orderly sprang to his feet and grabbed the infected by the shoulders, pulling it away from the screaming man on the floor. The infected spun and sank its teeth into the orderly's throat, savaging him, spattering blood on the walls and floor. He fell, choking as the infected continued to tear at him. His partner picked up a metal clipboard that had been on the gurney and smashed it into the infected's head, tearing away a flap of the scalp and splattering blood on the wall; the infected turned and threw itself on him. Its teeth sank into the man's neck. He shrieked as blood flowed like a river down from the gaping wound and held his hand out to Steve, "Get this guy the hell off of me…" he gurgled and gasped, spraying blood with his last exhalation. Steve wind-milled backward as the now-dead orderly sat up and began to move toward his former partner. Panic-stricken, Steve spun and ran down the hallway, ignoring the man’s screams.

  12:52 A.M.

  Chuck stared out the ER lobby window at the scene unfolding in the parking lot. He counted as thirteen large army trucks pulled into the lot, from each of these, men in black suits and gas masks armed with rifles jumped out and took position around the front. With the new distraction of the armed soldiers, he lost count of the vehicles as they steadily flowed onto the access road and headed to the other side of the hospital. He went to the security desk and picked up the phone.

  Doctor West listened as Chuck told him about the developing situation outside. Susan watched West intently. This wouldn't be good news, but then, it seemed tonight wasn't about good news. West nodded a few more times and then spoke, "Thanks Chuck, I'll be there as soon as I can." Doctor West hung up the phone, closed his eyes and lowered his head. The lines on his face seemed to deepen as he grimaced; he brushed his disheveled graying hair from his forehead with a sweaty hand and took a deep, slow breat
h. It seemed to Susan that he had aged ten years since the beginning of the shift.

  Susan leaned in close to Doctor West, "What's going on? I'm guessing it isn't good news."

  Doctor West glanced around and lowered his voice, "It appears our CDC 'guests' have arrived."

  "Isn't that a good thing? It means help is here."

  "Apparently it isn't just a team of doctors. From what Chuck said it's a full military convoy--a small army. They've surrounded the hospital.” He shook his head and grasped the edge of the counter. "I thought I was scared before, but now I'm terrified. These people know something we don't, something really bad."

  "Perhaps it’s just a precaution?”

  "That's what worries me the most Susan.” He shook his head again, as though trying to dislodge something. "I'm not sure I want to know what precautions like this could be for."

  She patted his shoulder, "I'm not sure I want to know either. But the way I see it, knowing is better than not knowing."

  Doctor West cracked a weak smile, "I hope you're right Susan, I really do. Page Doctor Zimmerman and tell him our guests have arrived and I'd like him to join me here in ER. I'm heading outside to speak with them."

  "Of course Doctor West, right away." Susan picked up the phone as Doctor West went to the front entrance.

  12:54 A.M.

  Steve huddled in the maintenance closet, terrified to make the slightest sound. In the hallway outside, chaos reigned. He could hear people screaming, furniture and glass breaking, and a constant low moaning punctuated by wet slurping noises. In the minutes since Garcia died and began to walk, most of the floor had become infected. All who died in the attacks got up almost immediately and began to kill. The situation had cascaded out of control. A loud crash--someone was flung against the door outside. The door shook in its frame as whoever it was kicked and thrashed against an attacker. Shrieks filled the air and a trickle of blood flowed underneath the door. Steve buried his head between his knees and said something he hoped resembled a prayer.

  12:57 A.M.

  Doctor West stood in the ER lobby and looked out the large glass windows into the parking lot. At least one hundred men stood, knelt, and crouched about fifty feet from the front entrance. They were all heavily armed and dressed in protective clothing. The officer in charge barked out orders and directed his troops to take position behind makeshift barriers they had constructed. Doctor West waved his arms over his head, trying to get the leader's attention. The officer looked his way, but did not return the wave and didn't acknowledge the doctor.

  "This doesn't look good, Chuck," said Doctor West. Chuck nodded, too nervous to speak. A few of the nurses and other hospital staff had also come to the lobby. They murmured and shuffled around nervously.

  Doctor West picked up a house phone. He dialed nine for an outside line but instead of the expected three beeps and a dial tone, it was silent. He hung up and tried again, twice with no better luck. He then dialed the extension for the nurses' station. After two rings he heard Susan's voice on the other end. "Station two," she said.

  "Just checking to see if the internal system is still working. I can't seem to get an outside line. Would you try from there? I want to talk the CDC."

  "Just a moment," Susan said. After a pause she was back, "I'm sorry Doctor West, I can't seem to get an outside line either."

  Doctor West took his cell phone from his pocket, flipped it open and frowned at the screen, "How about your cell phone?"

  "No service," she replies.

  "Thanks. Please call me at the security desk when Doctor Zimmerman gets there."

  "Will do," Susan replied.

  Doctor West turned to Chuck, who had his cell phone in his hand. He looked at Doctor West and shook his head.

  "This keeps getting better and better. I'm going out there to talk to them."

  "Do you think that's a good idea Doc? They don't look sociable."

  "I'm just going to talk to them. Everything will be fine. Unlock that door for me, will you?"Chuck nodded, fumbled with his keys and unlocked the latches. "Doc? Be careful, huh? I don't feel good about this."

  Doctor West placed a reassuring hand on Chuck’s shoulder, "Don't worry, it'll be fine."

  He walked through the door and into the entry foyer of the hospital, wishing he felt as certain as his words. The moment he stepped outside, several bright lights flashed on and focused on him.

  "Stop where you are, go back inside, now," an amplified voice ordered. Against the bright lights, he couldn't see the source. He saw dozens of red laser dots dancing on his chest as the soldiers aimed their rifles.

  He raised his hands and said, "My name is Doctor West. I'm the senior member of the medical staff. I need to talk to whoever's in charge."

  "Go back inside and stay there; the CDC team will be arriving shortly. You can speak with them when they do," the voice responded.

  "But…," Doctor West began.

  "You have ten seconds to return to the building. This is your last warning. Ten . . . nine. . ."

  An icy hand clutched Doctor West's heart. Whatever this disease was, these people had no intention of letting it escape the confines of the hospital. He walked slowly backwards, his hands still raised in the air. After passing through the entrance door he turned, his eyes wide and sweat flowed freely down his face, "Chuck, lock up please," he sighed and collapsed into one of the hard lobby chairs.

  1:03 A.M.

  In the cardio ward on four, a floor beneath the ICU/Isolation ward, Judy Michaels sat at the nurses' station, completing paperwork on her patients. Sarah Turner, the other ward nurse walked up to the desk, "If I work too many more nights, my husband is going to get a girlfriend."

  Judy chuckled, "What do you mean going to? He's a real catch." She winked at Sarah.

  "Ha ha, very funny."

  Someone slammed into the stairwell exit door and was now pounding on it, as if frantic to get in.

  "What the hell was that?" Judy asked.

  Sarah, shrugged, "Don't know, better call security." The pounding at the door continued. It was joined by more noise from the stairwell, as if several people were now banging at the door. They heard loud moans and grunts.

  Judy dialed security. "Hello…Hello? Come on, pick up the damn phone… Chuck? We have a problem here in Cardio. Yeah. Several people are in the stairwell, pounding on the door and making a lot of noise. Can you send someone up?" As she listened to the guard's response, the stairwell door sprang open and people came running out, some in hospital garb and others in patient gowns. Their eyes were red; most were covered with vicious wounds, as if they had been mauled by wild animals. One man's throat was ripped open; another's upper right arm was stripped down to the bone. Every one of them was covered in blood. Judy screamed and dropped the phone, staring at the infected, frozen to the spot. The infected zeroed in on the two nurses and charged them. Judy and Sarah screamed and tried to run, they were overtaken and torn to pieces. Eight of the infected walked away with an arm or a leg while the others tried to grab what they held. On the other end of the phone Chuck yelled, "Judy? Sarah? What's happening? Judy!" Droning moans were the only answer.

  Sarah’s head lay in the middle of the hall, her once beautiful face caked with her own blood. Her body had been torn to pieces and hauled away by the things that had killed her. Her eyes flicked open and began to scan the limits of her vision, looking for prey.

  1:05 A.M.

  Doctor West called Susan over to the desk. “Chuck just got a call from Cardio, something's happened to the nurses there."

  Susan's eyes widened and her jaw hung slack for a moment, unable to voice her feelings. "What the hell is going on here?"

  "I don't know. Alert the department heads to lock down their sections until we get this under control. Chuck and another guard are checking out the problem on four. Have you seen Doctor Zimmerman?"

  "No," Susan looked over her shoulder, "I haven't seen him since we left ICU."

  1:10 A.M.

&n
bsp; Chuck and Paul, the other night security guard, heard the pandemonium when they entered the stairwell. A few floors up, people screamed, furniture and equipment crashed against walls, glass shattered and rained to the floor. A nurse burst into the stairwell from the fifth floor, screaming. She ran down the stairs and tripped over her own feet. She tumbled down half the flight of steps and hit the landing. Chuck and Paul ran up the stairs. When they arrived on the landing, they saw her neck had been broken by the fall, and she had been covered in bite marks. Blood stained the white fabric of her uniform.

  They heard several more crashes and shrieks coming from the door. They peered around the door frame and saw perhaps a dozen people, covered in gore, running through the halls. Chuck recognized several of them as hospital employees. The rest had been patients. He saw the man he had restrained earlier in the evening. He looked nothing like the man Chuck had seen barely an hour ago. His face, hands and limbs were swollen, his leg was horribly twisted and broken and there wasn't an inch of the man's body that wasn't covered with sores and blood. Chuck looked at Paul, put his finger to his lips and motioned to head back down the stairs. Paul nodded agreement and followed Chuck’s lead. This was too much for them to handle alone. They crept down the stairs as the screams and moans continued on the fourth floor. The door on the third floor landing burst open, several more of the infected poured into the stairwell. Chuck and Paul drew their batons, "Get back, I…I don't want to use this," Chuck stuttered as he brandished the weapon. The infected paid no attention to the warning and rushed forward. Chuck brought his baton down on the first one’s head, caving in the skull. Paul screamed as he swung his baton wildly, hitting anything that moved in his direction. The infected on the fourth and fifth floors heard the cacophony and rushed into the narrow stairwell, leaving the guards nowhere to run. Chuck swung his club again and again, cracking the skulls of the infected, dropping them to the ground. He heard Paul scream and turned, one of the infected had dragged him to the ground and others jumped on top of him and sank their teeth into his flesh. "Paul!" Chuck yelled. Although Paul was only five or six feet away, it might as well have been miles. In the second it took for Chuck to turn and start for Paul, the infected had dragged Chuck to the ground as well.

 

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