CURE (A Strandville Zombie Novel)

by Frisch, Belinda

  Miranda held her breath and covered her mouth with both hands, stifling a whimper.

  “I know you’re in here.”

  The tip of a broom handle lifted a tile and slid it back. The orderly’s exsanguinated body became visible and she clenched her eyes shut. She gasped and was crying before she could stop it.

  “Marco.”

  Polo.

  She froze, afraid that any noise would help him narrow down her position.

  Another tile moved, then a third.

  He was getting too close.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You can’t stay up there forever.”

  All she had to do was out-maneuver him.

  She blinked the tears from her eyes and moved away from the missing tiles. Her body tensed as she crept through the web of pipes and ductwork to the narrow shelter behind an industrial fan.

  She would wait him out if she had to.

  “You’re really going to make me come get you?” Reid asked. He stepped on the first shelf and the metal popped.

  It’ll never hold him. It had barely held her.

  “Last chance, Miranda. When I catch you, I promise you’ll be sorry.”

  Sweat rolled down her forehead mixing with tears on her cheeks. She pulled her knees tight to her chest and clenched her forearm with her other hand.

  Reid climbed another step closer and the shelf rocked, rattling against the hard cement floor.

  She peered around the humming fan, the noise making it difficult to hear how close he actually was. When his blood-spattered face came up through the opening, she nearly fainted.

  “There you are.” He grinned and reached for a nearby pipe.

  Her heart pounded and blood rushed in her ears. She looked behind her for an easy out. There had to be someplace she could go.

  Reid pulled up. As he stepped on top of the shelves, the whole thing collapsed. He hung from a pipe until his hands, damp with the orderly’s blood, slipped and he crashed to the ground.

  Oh, thank God.

  Tears streamed down Miranda’s cheeks and she exhaled a sigh of relief. His fall bought her at least some time. She was going to be all right.

  No sooner had she thought it, than the fire alarm went off.

  27.

  Gray smoke billowed out of the Nixon Center’s side door. A brigade of fire trucks arrived and a dozen firemen filed out of them.

  Zach hoisted an oxygen tank onto his back and kept his head down to avoid being recognized. “Where the fuck is Lenny?” he asked.

  Scott shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “He should be here by now.” The fear that Reid had found him made it hard for Zach to breathe.

  “We can’t wait all day,” Billy said. “Fire’ll be out in no time.”

  “Are we ready?” Scott asked.

  Zach worried that their plan was unraveling already. “I am if we’re not waiting on Lenny.”

  “I don’t see how we can.” Scott secured the mask over his face and gestured for them to get moving.

  The three ran to catch up with the firemen heading into the center and blended seamlessly into the scene. Droves of ambulatory patients and visitors headed for the main doors. The strobe lights and sounding alarms heightened the chaos.

  Zach pointed to a service elevator at the other end of the lobby and forced his way through the crowd.

  Their breaking away from the pack would raise suspicion if anyone was watching.

  Zach pushed the call button and the door opened.

  Scott moved to the back and lifted his mask. “That was close.”

  “Do you think we were spotted?” Mark asked.

  Zach shook his head. “There were too many people, too much confusion. I’m sure we’re fine.” He said it more to convince himself. Sooner or later they would be targeted. He hoped it was after he found Allison.

  The elevator reached the basement and opened to an empty hallway.

  Immediately, Zach sensed something was wrong. The start of the tension headache he’d been harboring escalated to full-blown.

  “Wait here a minute.” He unholstered his pistol.

  Growls filled the hall between the elevator and the Control Room, and as he crept along, he realized Clarence’s cell was open.

  His muscles twitched and his hands shook. He geared up for the worst, the blood pool being the first thing to come into view. The rancid smell of vomit burned his nose. He pulled the door the rest of the way open and prepared to shoot if he had to.

  “Oh, thank God.” He exhaled. The cell was empty. He waved for the others. “One of the infected guards is missing.”

  “Where would he go?” Scott asked.

  “A procedure room, probably, which means that Nixon might be down here.”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “Then you better hurry up.”

  Zach pulled off his right glove and sweat dripped onto the palm scanner. The light came up red. What is going on? He wiped his hand on the cool cement block wall and tried again, sick to his stomach when his access was denied a second time. Nixon must’ve locked him out. What did that mean for Allison?

  Scott dabbed his forehead with his sleeve. “I thought you said you had clearance.”

  “I did as recently as yesterday. Nixon is definitely on to me.”

  “You bet your ass he’s on to you.” Foster stood outside the elevator the three of them had been too preoccupied to notice had cycled. He adjusted his dark glasses and smirked.

  Zach froze, unsure of how to take the smile. Was he going to sound the alarm?

  “I can explain,” Zach stammered.

  Foster didn’t move to stop them. “I’m not going to ask you to.” He stepped up, set his hand on the scanner, and the Control Room door opened. “A lot has happened while you’ve been gone.”

  Zach cleared his throat. “Obviously. What’s Clarence doing in there?” His heartbeat quickened and he reluctantly went inside.

  “Holy shit,” Scott whispered.

  Mark’s mouth fell open.

  “What the hell happened to him?” Scott asked.

  Clarence sat against the wall with his knees pulled to his chest. His face was shredded, his nails caked with blood, but the opaque white film had lifted from his eyes.

  “It’s a long story.” Foster held out a handful of syringes to Travis who knelt at Clarence’s side. “This is all Ben had.”

  Travis injected Clarence and scowled at Zach. “This is yer fault.”

  Mark set his mask on the counter and looked curiously at Clarence. “I’ve never seen anything like this. What happened to him?”

  Travis pointed an accusing finger at Zach. “He left him for dead.”

  “I…I thought it was too late.” Zach wasn’t sure how he felt about what he was seeing. The shots were the short-term fix Nixon had told him about. He couldn’t help fearing that Clarence’s relief was only a temporary stay of execution.

  “Lucky, not everyone did. We need to get him out of here. Ben says he’ll take him, fix ‘em up, and get him home.”

  “Take him where?” Zach asked, knowing that there was no cure. No going home.

  Travis lowered his eyes.

  “Take him where?” Zach repeated.

  Neither Travis nor Foster responded.

  Zach slammed his hand on the counter. “Goddammit, you answer me.” He leveled his pistol at Travis.

  “The clinic, okay?” Travis held up his hands.

  “What clinic?”

  Foster sighed. “Nixon has an off-site somewhere up in the mountains. He does research up there. Ben’s the only one who’s seen it.”

  “Is it possible there’s a room up there that looks like a room here?” Zach lowered the gun. “Is that where Nixon took my wife?”

  Foster shrugged. “I honestly don’t know that.”

  Clarence drew a ragged breath, but didn’t speak or maybe he couldn’t.

  The monitors flickered and the commotion caught Zach’s attention even as a thousand fleet
ing thoughts collided in his mind. “Why are they so agitated?” The zombies clawed for the ceiling, crazed and reaching.

  “I’m guessing it has something to do with this.” Foster flipped the switch to change the view. Zach held his hand to his head. “I think she’s looking for a way out. Last we saw her, she was climbing the shelves in the Incinerator Room. They hear her over their heads.” Foster grunted. “I told her not to leave. I was going to get her out of here.”

  “Who did you tell?” Scott raised his eyebrow and stepped up to Foster, dwarfing him.

  “Miranda. An orderly screwed up and she got out of her cell. Reid’s been looking for her for hours and Nixon won’t let him stop until he gets her back.”

  Scott clenched his teeth, reached under his coat, and pulled his pistol on Foster. “Tell me everything you know about what Nixon wants with Miranda.”

  Foster grimaced. “Where do you want me to start?”

  28.

  Two nurses stood on either side of the room and ushered the patients through the lobby. Nervous visitors spilled out as fast as the elevator could cycle them.

  “We have to take the stairs.” Billy clutched the photograph of Allison Zach gave him to help find her.

  John chewed the side of his thumb and smeared his lower lip with blood. “I don’t think Frank can make five flights.”

  Billy stepped inside the stairwell. “Frank, whadd’ya say?”

  “I’m fine. If I can survive a pacemaker and quitting smoking, I can climb a few stairs.”

  Billy shrugged and started the ascent. How far had the others gotten? He took the radio silence as a sign they hadn’t reached the ward, but they weren’t in the lobby so the diversion must have worked. The fire was out, but things were going smoothly. Maybe too much so. He wondered why Nixon continued the evacuation after the trucks had left. The closer he got to the fifth floor, the more nervous he became about security. The whole thing was starting to feel like a trap. If Allison was there, Nixon wouldn’t have left her unguarded. Billy stopped at the fourth floor landing and took the Bowie knife from the sheath on his leg.

  “You two comin’?” Billy looked over the railing at John and Frank who were a flight behind.

  “Frank needs a minute to catch his breath.” John twisted off the top and handed his water bottle to Frank.

  Frank took a small sip, coughed, and cleared his throat. “I’m all right.” He pushed past John and resumed his climb.

  Billy took the last flight two stairs at a time and waited by the fifth floor door. He looked through the window into the hall. Plastic sheeting hung from the ceilings and the floor was only partially tiled. A pile of countertops leaned against the wall, waiting for installation and the room across the hall appeared to be some kind of storage unit, piled high with medical equipment.

  Not the kind of place to keep a patient, but he’d check.

  “John, wait with Frank. I’ll look an’ see if Allison’s here. There’s a wheelchair in that room over there.”

  John smirked. “Is it for Allison or Frank?”

  Frank shoved John hard enough to knock him off his footing. “I can still kick your scrawny ass.” He opened the door and grabbed the wheelchair, using it to steady himself as he made his way down the rugged hallway terrain.

  Billy tightened his grip on the knife handle and zigzagged left to right, checking each of the rooms. Most were under construction, not a bed in them. Some weren’t even dry walled. “I’ve got a bad feelin’ about this.”

  “She’s not here,” John said.

  Billy pushed aside the final plastic sheeting and groaned. Two beds sat side by side. They were freshly made and the room had been recently cleaned. A floral arrangement drooped on the windowsill and Billy read the card. Get well soon. All my love, Zach.

  “She ain’t here now, but she was.”

  29.

  The three guards that apprehended Lenny escorted him to a rich suite of offices.

  A slender, fifties-appearing man with graying hair and wearing a white lab coat folded his hands on the mahogany desktop.

  Even riding out the diminished effects of his morning six-pack, Lenny recognized Dr. Nixon.

  The largest guard forced Lenny to his knees and pulled his arms up and behind him.

  Lenny’s shoulders ached under the strain. “What the hell’ve you done with my wife?”

  Nixon shook his head. “Cuff him,” he said to the guard, “and go help the others with the search.”

  Lenny tried to jerk free, but the too-tight cuffs on his wrists stopped him cold. The left cuff bit into his flesh and he yelped. “Let me go, goddammit.” A guard lifted him off his feet and thrust him into a chair, shackling his ankles to its legs. Lenny’s head swam, his equilibrium off from the alcohol.

  Nixon lowered his eyebrows and concentrated on Lenny. “You remember me, don’t you?”

  Lenny pushed his left arm down and tried without luck to re-seat the cuff. “I oughtta, you asshole. You promised my girls you’d make their mama better. Tol’ me not to worry about the bill, that you’d take care of things.”

  Nixon grinned. “That I did. Leonard Holtz.” He tapped his pointer finger on his temple. “See, I remember. Your wife, Annie, came in through the ER. Pretty woman, once you got past the bruises, black eye, and the fingerprints on her throat. She was on a ventilator for over a week and you came to see her once. You had the two little girls with you. Twins, aren’t they? Sweet kids, but dirty and God, you stunk of beer.” He whiffed the air. “I can smell it on you now.”

  “Where’s Annie, you fuckin’ piece o’shit?”

  A gurgling noise came from an adjacent bathroom, then a loud crash and a woman screaming.

  Nixon stood up, buttoned his lab coat, and took a roll of duct tape from his top desk drawer. “What makes you think Annie’s here?” An evil grin spread across his face. “Maybe she had enough.” He headed toward the screams. “Is it really so hard to believe she would leave you?”

  Lenny bowed his head. Him, no, but she’d never leave the girls.

  The tape ripped and the screaming stopped.

  “That’s better.” Nixon emerged from the bathroom pushing a device that was a cross between a gurney and a hand truck. A plastic-coated pad covered a wheeled, metal frame and a series of straps held an ill-appearing woman in place. Allison. He recognized her from the picture Zach had passed around.

  Allison struggled with the sleeves of the straight jacket securing her arms across her chest. Buckles scraped the metal frame. An opaque film covered her eyes and her skin was an off-shade, dusky and nearly blue. Nixon took a syringe from his lab coat pocket, lifted the hem of Allison’s gown, and injected her bare thigh. Her lids fluttered then closed.

  Lenny shivered. He’d never seen anything like her.

  Nixon parked the cart near enough to Lenny that he could smell death leaching from Allison’s pores. He wrinkled his nose and turned his face away.

  Nixon sank into the soft, leather chair and grinned. “Do you recognize this woman?”

  Lenny attempted to play stupid. “I don’t know her. I told ya, I’m looking fer Annie.”

  “Oh, then I guess introductions are in order. I’m sorry. Lenny, meet Allison Keller. Allison, say hello to Lenny.” Allison groaned. “The sedatives don’t exactly make her a conversationalist, do they?” Nixon laughed. “You know her husband, Zach?” He drew his eyebrows together and tilted his head.

  Lenny pressed his lips into a thin line. No way was he answering.

  Nixon leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Loyalty is for the stupid or the weak, Lenny. You’re your own man and you have a family to take care of so which one are you, stupid or weak?”

  “Neither.” Lenny said, returning an icy stare. “And I’m not yur fuckin’ pawn, neither.”

  “Touché. You’re smarter than you look. You sense a deal coming and you’re not about to take it. Well, that’s just short sighted. I’m only going to ask you this once more. Do you know Zach Kelle
r? Bear in mind that I already know the answer.”

  Lenny clenched his teeth.

  “Let me put it another way. You know Zach plans on walking out of here with her.” He pointed to Allison. “What I want to know is, are you’re willing to deliver him to walk out of here with Annie?”

  * * * * *

  Zach held the switches for the cells in his hands.

  One push would release the Ids.

  “This is a bad idea,” Foster said. “Everyone knows the fire was a diversion. If I didn’t recognize Zach standing at the elevator, Nixon would’ve had you by now. Get what you came for and leave. You don’t have to make things worse.”

  “You know as well as I do that Nixon won’t let us out of here if he doesn’t have to,” Zach said. “We need to redirect his attention.”

  Clarence pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head against them. His eyes closed and then opened, the white film coming back.

  Travis kept vigil over him, but the treatment was failing. “We have to get him outta here. He needs help.”

  Foster’s radio crackled to life.

  Another of Nixon’s guards was calling on the security frequency. “Reid, come in. Do you hear me?”

  Scott stared intently at the monitors. “Where the hell is he? You said he was down here.”

  Shhhh. Foster turned up the volume.

  “This’s Reid and it better be important.”

  The guard cleared his throat. “Nixon needs you to take care of a situation up on five.”

  Billy, John, and Frank had gone to the fifth floor.

  Zach held his anxiously nauseous stomach. He needed every set of available hands and if the three men he sent after Allison were caught, he might never find her.

  If Nixon had moved her off-site, it almost didn’t matter.

  “I can’t handle everything,” Reid said. “Tell Nixon his other problem is cornered in the Incinerator Room and I’m trying to get to it right now.”

  He didn’t use Miranda’s name, but it had to be her.

  After a few seconds of silence, the guard answered back. “He says to put Foster on her and get up here.”