Wheeling the bin into the hallway, Tom gained momentum, cruising over the blood-drenched linoleum. If he could save one or two people, maybe he could forgive himself for not saving Lorena.
It was an equation that didn't add up, but one he told himself as he jogged down the hallway, pushing the bin and the injured woman, searching for Silas. He kept his eyes peeled to the doorways, calling out for the boy. The need for quiet had been usurped by the need for urgent help. He spotted the elevator in the distance.
The doors were closed.
Please let the car be here. In his desperation to get to Silas, Tom hadn't blocked the sensors. What if someone—a frightened survivor, or Abraham—had called the elevator upstairs? Without access to it, Tom would be forced to find some other way to get the injured woman upstairs. He doubted he could carry her, given the distance and seriousness of her injury. He rolled the bin to a stop, saying a silent prayer as he jabbed the button. To his relief, the elevator doors cranked open. The car hadn't moved.
Crouched inside the elevator, a knife clutched to his chest, was Silas.
Chapter Eleven
Abraham grabbed hold of Sally and Katherine as snarls continued from the hallway. He gripped the screwdriver. They listened in terrified silence as the beasts rampaged the hall. Screams and growls permeated the air. Objects battered walls. Hearing the noise was almost as bad as seeing the violence—it meant that Abraham couldn't help the other survivors, and even more terrifying, that he, his wife, and Katherine were next.
He met Sally's panic-stricken eyes. He didn't need forty years of marriage to read the meaning behind her stare. If they remained quiet, maybe the creatures would leave them alone. Maybe they would have a chance at survival.
His gaze wandered across the room to the chair propped underneath the door handle. He needed to reinforce it. He looked around the room. The place was bare, save some built-in cabinets and drawers and the bed he was sitting on.
A violent bang shook the entrance. Sally and Katherine cried out in fright, quickly stifling themselves. Fingernails scraped the other side of the door; a man's voice bellowed for help. The man's cries were cut short by a guttural snarl. Abraham heard the slap of what could only be gums against flesh, a maw buried in a dead man's gut.
Oh, God…
Abraham placed himself in front of Sally and Katherine, waiting for the moment when the creature realized they were here and battered down the door. A distant scream echoed down the hall, followed by the thud of a body. The beasts were seeking out the survivors a room at a time. The hospital had become a repository for flesh, a stocked preserve of human game.
The chewing sounds on the other side of the door seemed to go on forever. Abraham could only hope the victim was already dead, oblivious to being consumed.
He needed to do something.
Could he move the bed? He inched away from Sally and Katherine. Sally shook her head, mouthing the word "no" when she saw what he had in store. But Abraham needed to try. In moments, the beast would finish its meal and move on to them. He let go of Sally and Katherine and inspected the bed's wheels. He needed to unlock them. He needed to roll it.
A loud snort from a creature in the hall made Sally and Katherine jump. Abraham pointed to the cabinets in the wall. The lowest cabinet, at floor level, was about the size of a little girl.
"Help Katherine inside! I'll move the bed!" Abraham whispered to Sally.
Sally collected Katherine and led her across the room as the beast's sickening, slurping sounds bled through the door. Abraham bent down and unlocked the first two wheels of the bed.
Sally finished helping a scared Katherine into the cabinet. The girl curled her knees to her chest. Abraham caught a final glimpse of Katherine's terrified eyes as she was shut inside. In that moment, she looked much younger than eleven years old.
Abraham unlocked the third wheel and moved to the last one. But there was a problem. The lever was stuck. Sally hunkered next to him, frantically offering assistance.
Come on! He wanted to scream.
They fumbled with the rigid piece of metal.
The beast had stopped consuming the man on the other side of the door. It chuffed and sniffed the air. Another scream erupted from close by. Abraham had the sudden, selfish thought that another survivor would preoccupy the beast, giving them time to unlock the bed. But that didn't happen.
The beast rattled the door, whining and growling. The chair rose and fell with a bang. The noise prompted a cry from Katherine behind the cabinet door. Abraham held up his hands, as if she might quiet down, even though she couldn't see him. He pictured the girl sobbing and clutching her knees, willing herself to disappear. He stared desperately at the chair underneath the door, praying it'd remain in place. He stayed stock-still. The beast pawed the door, testing the weight. Abraham swallowed. Sweat poured from his brow. If they could stay quiet enough, maybe they'd—
The door shook harder.
Sally grabbed his arm. "Get the last wheel!" she cried.
With a tug and a grunt, Abraham and Sally pulled as hard as they could, unlocking the wheel with a snap. Frantically, they pushed the bed toward the door.
The next bang was the sound of the door flying open. The chair clattered across the room, smashing into a wall. The beast's massive frame filled the threshold.
The thing was taller than the doorway. Its body was covered in gore; remains dripped from its claws. It ducked inside the room, rose to full height, and surveyed Abraham and Sally, stepping over the carcass it had devoured. Its mouth hung open, displaying a row of pointed teeth.
Sally screamed. Abraham clutched his wife.
Abraham's gaze involuntarily fell to the victim at the doorway. The man had been torn apart at the midsection. His chewed legs were separated from his torso, his mouth stuck open in a dying scream. Abraham clutched the screwdriver.
The beast watched them. Abraham stared at the creature for a split second, torn between moving, fighting, or staying still. At the last second, he devised a plan.
"Lift the bed!" he screamed to Sally.
Whether it was the urgency in his voice or the sight of the creature, Abraham wasn't sure, but Sally sprang to action. Abraham dropped the screwdriver. They overturned the bed, getting it into the air as the creature pounced.
All at once, Abraham, Sally, and the bed slid back against the radiator. Abraham felt a brief, oppressive weight, and then heard the sound of shattering glass as the beast flew over them and crashed through the window.
Its shriek echoed into the night as it plunged three stories and to the ground.
Looking next to him to ensure Sally was all right, Abraham said a silent prayer.
We're still alive, he thought incredulously. We're still alive.
He lowered the bed, staring out the broken windowpane. The wounded creature flopped in the snow, then went still.
They pushed the bed away. The beast might be dead. But the open door across the room, and the carcass at the entrance, were proof they were still in danger.
Chapter Twelve
Tom studied the little boy crouched in the elevator car. Although Silas was breathing heavily, he appeared unharmed. He kept hold of the knife as Tom knelt down beside him.
"Are you all right, Silas?" Tom asked.
Silas nodded, but his eyes reflected the carnage he'd seen. Thank God he hadn't been killed. Tom glanced over his shoulder, observing the empty, carnage-strewn corridor. They needed to get out of here.
"Let's get up to the third floor," he said. "Back to your sister."
Tom glanced back at the elevator doors, which were blocked by the laundry bin. He peered over the edge to check on the injured woman. But the woman was no longer looking back at him.
Her eyes had gone vacant; her mouth was agape. Her hands had fallen off the towel, revealing a bloodied mess beneath. It didn't appear she was breathing.
Tom yanked the bin toward the elevator.
"Watch out, Silas! Make room! We have to get
her upstairs!"
Silas scuttled into the corner. Tom fought with the laundry bin, turning it sideways to maneuver it inside. He needed to get the woman to the nurses. They might be able to do something, where he had failed.
Silas let out a startled cry, snapping him to attention. A beast charged down the corridor, feet smacking the bloodstained floor. It was a hundred yards away.
"Shit!"
Tom rotated the bin, pressing his back against the elevator. Silas scooted with him. The elevator doors remained open. Dammit! What's going on? Tom watched in terror as the beast advanced. The bin must be blocking the sensor. He yanked furiously, trying to reposition it.
"Silas! Hit the button! Close the doors!"
The little boy cried out and jabbed the buttons. Tom's heart galloped as the creature closed the distance. It splayed its fingers in anticipation of clawing, tearing, eating. Several buttons lit up before Silas pressed the right one.
The doors whirred closed. Sensing its waning opportunity, the beast hurtled the remaining steps and dove. The doors had almost shut when a claw jutted through the opening.
The doors retracted.
The beast snarled.
Tom fought with the creature on the other side of the bin as Silas screamed. The beast thrashed wildly as it tried to get inside the elevator car. Tom still had the axe in his hands, but in order to swing it, he'd have to let go of the bin, exposing them to attack. The dead woman's body slid back and forth, trapped in a bitter game of tug-of-war. But the beast had no interest in her.
Its eyes were on Tom and Silas.
Finally, Tom shoved the laundry bin, hurling the creature back into the hallway. The creature lashed out, spearing the side of the bin. The bin rolled. Tom let it go. He looked over as Silas frantically pressed the button.
The elevator hummed.
The doors whooshed closed.
Suddenly the motor was churning and the elevator was rising, carrying them away from the blood-ridden floor. Silas clung to Tom's legs, sobbing. Tom held the boy close as he listened to the pulse of the elevator, thanking God for their good luck.
When Silas had settled down, Tom asked, "Are you all right?"
Silas looked up at him with wide, shameful eyes. "I didn't mean to come down here. I made a mistake."
"It's all right," Tom said, hugging the boy. Any scolding the boy deserved was overshadowed by what they'd both been through.
Without prompting, Silas continued to explain. "I wanted a snack from the machine, but everyone was busy. I saw the policeman going in the elevator. I thought it'd be okay."
"I understand. Did you try to go back upstairs?"
"I did, but the elevator was gone already."
Tom nodded. He and Abraham must've called the elevator shortly after Silas got off. None of the details mattered. What mattered was that Silas was safe.
Tom watched the orange display on top of the elevator. In the panic of the moment, Silas had accidentally hit the button for the second floor. They'd be making a stop before they reached third.
Watching the numbers change, Tom asked, "Where'd you get the knife?"
Silas looked up at him, his blue eyes clouded with fear. "I found it on the floor when I was hiding in that room like you told me. Then I heard all that noise. I got scared and ran back to the elevator."
"That was smart." Silas's instincts had probably saved his life. If he'd been roaming the halls, the beasts would've found him.
"I miss my mommy and daddy," Silas whimpered.
Tom studied him for a moment. "It'll be all right, Silas."
The ding of the elevator interrupted his thoughts.
"Stay quiet," Tom hissed. He pushed Silas behind him, raising his axe as the elevator ground to a halt. The doors creaked open.
Tom envisioned the same scene from the ground floor: the beast hovering next to the laundry bin, feasting on the dead woman. The prospect was logistically impossible. But that didn't stop his thoughts from running.
He felt awful about the woman. He'd probably never had a chance at saving her.
Tom swallowed his guilt as the elevator doors revealed the dark hallway in front of them. The only lights were from the elevator car. In the dim glow, he saw mangled body parts, pieces of hospital equipment.
Waiting for the doors to close, Tom recalled the dead police officers outside. Were their weapons still in the snow? The thought of retrieving them was tempting.
If he could make another stop on the first floor, race to the lobby…
Looking at Silas's frail form in the elevator car, he decided against it. If something happened to him, Silas would be left alone. Tom couldn't risk leaving him. It was too dangerous. The beasts had already invaded the building.
He just hoped they hadn't made it to the third floor.
Chapter Thirteen
Abraham stared across the hospital room at the gaping, broken-down doorway. Footsteps and screams punctuated the air. A door slammed shut from the end of the hall, cutting off a stream of frightened voices. Abraham watched a woman in a hospital gown dart down the hallway. She briefly met his eyes as she ran. There was no sign of the nurses. The third floor had become a free-for-all of fleeing, terrified survivors, left to fend for themselves.
And Abraham, Sally, and Katherine were in the same predicament.
Abraham crossed the room, intending to peer out into the hallway. Sally gave him a look of warning.
"I need to see if Tom and Silas are out there. Then I'll shut the door."
Sally nodded, but the expression of dread remained on her face. Abraham reached the threshold, his eyes cutting over the dead man at the door, holding back his sickness. The remainder of the hallway was splashed with blood. Several unmoving bodies lay on the floor—a man with a hole in his back, a woman with her arms torn off. Screams erupted from distant rooms, but the elevator doors were closed. No sign of Tom or Silas.
No sign of any beasts, either.
Yet.
Before they could be spotted, Abraham shut the door. The hinges were weak from the door's being kicked in, but he was able to push it in place. He cast a sideways glance at the broken chair, discerning that it was no longer useful. He darted back over to the bed.
"Let's move the bed in front of the door," he told Sally.
They rolled it across the room, tilting it on its side, creating a barricade. When they were finished, Abraham struggled for breath. His back was sore. Years of manual labor at the sand and gravel company hadn't prepared him for this.
"Are you all right?" Sally asked.
"I'll be all right, sweetie," Abraham reassured her. Her concern was a reminder of normalcy in a world that had turned upside down. All the sudden, the hallway fell quiet. Abraham clung to Sally as they waited and listened.
Katherine opened the cabinet door, poking her head out. She watched Abraham and Sally with a hopeful look that said the nightmare might be over. Abraham hoped for the same, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe it.
"Do you think they're gone?" Katherine whispered.
"No," Abraham answered. "We'll have to defend ourselves."
"I wish the police would come."
"I do, too. But I doubt they'll be able to get to us," Abraham said, picturing the policeman being tackled out in the snow. "We'll have to depend on each other."
His thoughts wandered to the school bus. What had happened to the occupants? Hearing nothing in the hallway, he let go of Sally, walked to the window, and surveyed the parking lot. The beast that had fallen out the window was covered in a layer of snow.
It serves the thing goddamn right.
Cold whipped through the broken pane. For a moment, Abraham envisioned another beast scaling the side of the hospital, clawing its way in from the storm. He was pretty sure the things weren't that agile, but that didn't stop him from worrying about it.
That thought naturally led to another. Should they get out of here? Tie blankets together, maybe create a bridge to the parking lot? Abraham dismi
ssed the idea. The plan was as silly as it was dangerous. They didn't have enough blankets. And besides, he and Sally were in their mid-sixties. Although they were in decent shape, Abraham knew they couldn't attempt a stunt like that.
It was safer in the building.
At least, he convinced himself it was.
Abraham searched every inch of the room. Other than the screwdriver in his hand, as well as the scalpel and scissors Sally had, there was nothing else that might help them. The room was bare except for a pitcher of water, some spare blankets, and some medical supplies—nothing that could be used as a weapon. A pink, plastic container on the wall labeled "sharps container" caught his attention.
Needles. Probably used for vaccinations or medicines. He didn't want to touch anything in there. The thought of digging through a pile of used needles was hardly appealing or worth the risk.
Noticing that Katherine and Sally were shivering, he said, "We should head over by the radiators. At least stay warm."
They headed over to the window, and Abraham swallowed as a long howl erupted from somewhere deep in the hallways. They'd only had a few minutes of peace, and already the silence had broken.
Abraham sat on his haunches, hovering next to Sally and Katherine.
He traded a glance with his wife, their expressions taking the place of conversation. If they'd been alone, they would've traded final words.
Abraham already knew what he'd say.
Forty years ago, I married my best friend and the love of my life. I've never once regretted that decision.
But saying those words would scare Katherine. And whether this was the end or not, Abraham wanted to spare the little girl as much fright as he could.
His thoughts roamed to Olivia. Saying goodbye to her and the grandchildren had been one of the hardest things Abraham had ever had to do. He considered himself a strong man, but he'd been unable to suppress his tears the day they left for London.
Abraham's eyes welled at the thought of never seeing them again, at the thought of losing Sally. Wiping his face, he took hold of his wife's hand and squeezed.
Werewolf Suspense (Book 4): Outage 4 (The Reckoning) Page 5