Lockdown: A collection of ten terror-filled zombie stories

by mike Evans

  “Would you stop staring and let’s go,” she said as she began to run up the stairs, taking them two at a time, the golf club swinging back and forth as she ran.

  Max did his best to avoid a strike, but she heard a couple of pained grunts before he moved to her side and made his way up beside her. They heard the dead stumble through the door as they made it to the first landing, not daring to look back as they ran for their lives. When she looked back, the dead were following close behind, navigating the stairs without a problem. She was hoping that they would’ve had trouble with them, but this was something she had never encountered before. Her biggest hope was that their dead brains couldn’t figure out even the simple things.

  When they reached the landing, they pushed through the door to the fourth floor, not stopping as they continued to run toward the door to Christina’s office where Amanda and the other patients waited for their return. The dead were right behind them and, as they pushed into the office, a tangle of graying arms pushed through, trying to get into the room to follow them and feast on their living flesh. Everyone in the waiting room started to scream, Carlisle and Fred rushing to the door to help them force it shut. Giving it all they had, the door finally closed, one arm falling to the ground as it dislocated from the rest of the body and flailing. Max put his back against the door and turned the lock, crying out as the arm began its feeble attempt to grab onto someone. Even detached from the body, it still had the urge to find fresh meat to feed on, and there was plenty of it to go around in the room even though it has no teeth to sink into any of them.

  Christina nearly collapsed to the ground, breathing labored from running up four flights of stairs to get away from those that would surely kill them if they didn’t find a way out of this. With the lockdown, there was no way out as far as she knew, and now the hallway was crowded with the walking dead with no way through them or around them.

  “What the Hell was that?” Amanda practically yelled as she watched the arm lurching around on the plush carpet. “What the Hell is that?” She pointed at it, her voice raising a pitch as Donna’s head was falling forward with fatigue and blood loss.

  “You know what we heard about those homeless people coming in and attacking people? Well, apparently they all got that flu that’s been going around. Someone died while we were down there and got right back up and attacked someone. That’s all I know, but now we’re definitely trapped,” Christina explained as she got up and rushed over to where Donna sat against the front of Amanda’s desk.

  Carlisle began to mumble from his seated position, rocking back and forth in his chair, but before Christina had a moment to check on him as well as Fred, the door began to make cracking noises. She could only assume that the monsters they had seen were pushing on the door now that they knew a meal was lying just beyond it.

  “Shit, we’ve got to get out of here,” Max cursed as he looked around the office, panic on the set of his features.

  “We can’t. The building is in complete lockdown. Do you have any idea what that means?” Amanda yelled at him as he began to pace.

  Max ran his hands through his hair and opened his mouth to speak when the door gave way, and creatures began to pile inside, stumbling over one another to get through the doorway and to the fresh meat they saw. The rotting flesh was sloughing off their jaws and foreheads and arms, teeth gnashing with greedy hunger as decaying arms reached out toward the group. Screams erupted, and Max took Christina’s arm in his massive hand, moving her toward the only place left to hide. Her office.

  “No, I can’t leave Donna!” she cried out as Amanda attempted to lift the woman from the floor, Donna struggling against her.

  “Get out of here. Just go,” Donna shouted.

  N one had to tell Carlisle twice, but Amanda refused to leave her side, even when Fred moved in and attempted to pull her to perceived safety. And everything turned into chaos in an instant.

  Christina was shouting Amanda’s name as she continued to grip Donna’s arm to bring her with them, Fred tried to talk Amanda into letting her go, Max was pulling Christina into the office even as she fought him, and Donna was begging for us to let her die. She was going to die anyways, she had said. After what felt like an eternity of struggle, the creatures moved in and descended on Donna and Amanda, Fred barely letting go, but not quick enough. One of the creatures clamped his jaw shut on Fred’s fingers, removing the middle three from his hand. He screamed and fell back onto the floor, Carlisle reaching out of the office to drag him inside as Christina watched in terror, her secretary and patient being overshadowed and devoured by what she could only call the walked dead.

  She knew she would always hear those cries as Max pulled her into the room and reached out to help and quickly drag Fred into the room, slamming the door behind him and placing his back against it. Christina fell to her knees beside his legs and locked the door, sobs leaving her body at the loss of so much human life that day before her eyes.

  * * *

  Fred was going into shock at the loss of three of his fingers, but Christina had nothing in the room to stop the effect of the injury on his body. She could do very little to halt the blood loss even. Carefully, she wrapped his hand in the very corner of his cheaply made suit jacket, doubling as a way to keep him semi warm and to help stem some of the flow from his hand. Without warning, Fred turned onto his side and vomited right next to her as she knelt beside him, his lids drooping as he was slipping into unconsciousness.

  “Damn it. There’s nothing I can do here. I’m not this kind of doctor so I’m not equipped to handle what he needs,” she said. Fred was pale, sweat glistening on his forehead as he shivered and folded into himself. His hair stuck to his forehead as each drop of sweat poured off of him and soaked his clothes. This wasn’t just shock anymore. He was sick, and she had seen how that turned out.

  Max stood behind her with his arms crossed over his chest as Carlisle sat on the floor against the far wall. The screams of Amanda and Donna had quickly faded into the sounds of the undead just outside the door munching on their insides and cracking their bones to get at juicy morsels. Christina sat down and sighed, looking at the door with monsters just on the other side, scratching sounds penetrating the dense wood as well.

  “What do we do, Doc?” Max asked.

  “I have no idea,” she replied, tears of terror, frustration, and sorrow stinging her eyes. “We’re stuck here and, if they make it through that door, we’re dead. And Fred’s already on his way there.”

  “What?” Carlisle squealed. “What is that supposed to mean? He’s going to turn into one of those things, isn’t he?” He started to shake his head and rose to his feet. “No, we can’t let him kill us. We have to kill him, and we have to do it now.”

  “Just shut up. Shut up,” Max commanded as Carlisle began to pace. “We’re not killing anyone if we can help it.”

  Christina dropped her head into her bloody hands, the gore having already turned into the disgusting brown color on her skin. The concern over her comrades in the fight for survival against something they knew nothing about was overwhelming, and she knew that, if she could save everyone, she would. Especially Donna and Amanda, who had practically sacrificed themselves to an unrelenting force of necrotizing bodies.

  There was a loud crash, and when she turned her head up, Max was breathing heavily from overturning her massive desk all by himself. He began to go to work on the thick legs of the desk, the polished dark wood cracking and splintering under the impact of his feet. The desk was constructed of solid oak, a sturdy wood that could still bend to the will of a strong man who wanted nothing more than to make it out of this building alive.

  “I’ll just add a new desk to your bill, Mr. Durant. You know, since the VA is taking care of it and all,” Christina joked, letting a small chuckle of hysteria pass between her lips.

  He smirked and laughed a little, his eyebrows drawing down into a frown. “I don’t even think that’ll matter anymore, Doc.”


  Then, with an electrical sound as if something was powering down, the power went out, leaving them in almost pure darkness except for the sunlight coming through the only window in the room.

  “Oh my God,” Carlisle said as he curled his knees against his chest, arms wrapping around them to pull himself into an even tighter ball.

  “It’s okay, Carlisle. We’ll get out of here,” Christina said as she placed a hand on Fred’s shoulder, sweat soaking the fabric of his suit jacket already. “Just try to remain calm.”

  She looked down at the man curled around her knees in the fetal position and stroked his drenched bangs hanging stuck to his forehead. He didn’t have long now, and she knew it, but she couldn’t force herself to kill him. Not while he was still human. His chest rose and fell slowly against her knees, but it was shallow and labored. She reached down and placed her index and middle fingers against his throat just below his jaw, feeling for his pulse. It was barely detectable under her touch. No, he didn’t have long at all.

  Max started to kick at the leg of the desk he had already begun working on, and it broke within mere seconds, giving a final loud crack of protest as it thudded to the floor at his feet. He picked it up and hefted it in his hands, testing the weight and the balance of it knowing he would have to use it at some point. The scratching at the door only grew more persistent as they sat in the office, no one saying a word to each other. Christina hoped that, if they remained silent, the creatures would leave so they could attempt an escape. And then she had an idea.

  The samples that lined her shelves in another room within her office may have an effect on these things, especially if injected. And there were a few liquid medications she had that could be useful. Sedatives just in case a patient became violent against themselves or others. She had made plenty of house calls to always have some stocked and ready to go when needed. If the medications worked on them like they did her living patients, maybe she could overdose them. The thought quickly vanished, thinking that it was highly plausible that their circulatory systems no longer functions, which would keep the medication from entering their system as it should.

  “Damn,” she sighed as she dropped her head, her chin touching her chest in near surrender to their circumstances.

  “What is it?” Max asked as he strolled to her, coming to sit beside her with the massive piece of wood in his large hands.

  “I thought I had an idea, but I have no idea if it would even work.”

  “What’s the idea?” Carlisle probed, unfurling himself and leaning forward in interest. “I mean, if it could work it’s worth a shot, right?”

  “I have medications here that I could possibly use to help us get out of here. Sedatives that, if given a high enough dose, can kill quickly, but I don’t even know if it would work. They’re technically dead, right? So I don’t even know if the drugs could get into their systems.”

  Max stared at her, clearly thinking of the possibilities. “Do you have enough to test it out first? And is there any in this room?”

  “Uh…y…yes, I have some in my desk drawer for if a patient gets out of hand during a session, but…”

  “Which drawer?” he said as he stood, taking charge of the situation instantly. He walked to the desk and began opening drawers, attempting to keep things from sliding even farther into the back of them as possible.

  “Bottom right-hand drawer, but how do you suggest we test this? Bring one of those things in here? Because we can’t do that.”

  Carlisle was silent, watching their exchange with rap fascination.

  “You know, Doc, for someone so smart I figured you’d catch on quicker than this,” Max jabbed, pointing a finger at her after retrieving a black case from within the drawer Christina had indicated.

  “Did you just insult me?” Her voice rose in pitch at his words.

  “No, but I can if it’ll get you to use your brain a little more. We already have the perfect subject in this room.” His glance flicked to Fred, who was still curled around her knees, his breath even more labored than it had been previously.

  Her eyes widened in disbelief at the suggestion as she began to shake her head.

  “No. No, no, no. He is a human being!” She began to shout, which only caused the creatures on the other side of the door to grow louder. “No,” she reiterated in a hush, knowing if they had any hope of surviving she needed to remain as quiet as possible.

  “Look,” Max said, coming around the desk to crouch on the other side of Fred. “It’s either this or we go out there and grab one somehow. It’s already bad enough if this even works, we have to go out there to get to the rest anyways. Don’t you want to know before we risk ourselves?”

  Christina thought about what he said, letting it roll over in her mind over and over. And then she thought about her remaining patient, who she wanted so desperately to make it out of this. He deserved that much, and she wanted to ensure he would. She had no idea what life would be like out there. She didn’t have any idea what kind of reach this virus had and how many of those things were out there walking the streets looking for a meal. All she knew was that Carlisle deserved to make it out alive as much as the rest of them.

  “Okay, give me the case,” she said as she held her hand out to Max. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s wrong on so many levels.”

  No one responded. Carlisle moved to sit next to them as she unzipped it, taking inventory of what she had left of the drug. There were two glass vials, filled most of the way with lorazepam, also known as Ativan, as well as two syringes that would hold a lethal dose of the drug. She hated using it on patients but, lucky for her, she had only had to do it once. And it was with Fred.

  “How are you going to do this, Doctor?” Carlisle asked as he stared down at Fred, who was still in the fetal position.

  She cleared her throat of the overwhelming sadness she felt and croaked, “Well, we wait.”

  “Until he dies? But, won’t he turn into one of those things?” Carlisle asked.

  “Yup,” was Max’s only reply.

  * * *

  They had nothing in the room to tie Fred down with after he changed so, when he took his last breath, Carlisle and Max held him down as best they could. They made sure to stay clear of his mouth to avoid a bite. Within mere moments, he passed, his skin pale and clammy from whatever was working its way through his system. It wasn’t the flu like the news had said when the season started, and Christina knew it, but now doing something to stop the spread wasn’t an option. Now, all they could do was fight to survive it and avoid it at all costs. She filled one syringe with a lethal dose of lorazepam and gripped it in one hand like a lifeline. And it was.

  After a moment of waiting, Christina began to think that Fred wasn’t going to turn into one of those monsters. That the others were just a freak of science and that there was something special about them to ensure the bites would change them. She wasn’t sure, and she was about to tell Max and Carlisle to release him when a muscle twitch told her not to. Then a growl came from deep within Fred’s chest, and his entire body spasmed in an attempt to free him from the hands that held him and launched at her.

  She shrieked and backed up a little, scooting across the floor as she took in Fred’s new appearance. His eyes glazed over, and his jaw snapped open and closed with a loud click of his teeth.

  Launching herself at the monster that used to be her patient, she plunged the needle into the first large muscle group she could find. The needle pierced the skin of his upper arm easily, penetrating the fabric. She pushed down on the plunger and injected him with the drug, all three of them scooting away as fast as they could and grabbing the nearest weapon. Max had the leg of the desk he had broken and Carlisle with the golf club Christina had been previously using. She backed up and let the men stand in front of her, weapons raised and at the ready.

  Fred rose from the floor, stumbling a few paces toward them as they took a step back. Christina watched with fascination, and his dead eyes m
et hers, the gloss of his vision seeming to clear for a moment as he deciphered what he saw through his newly lifeless eyes. And, as if making a decision, he took another step toward them, but he was a lot slower than the ones she had seen on the first floor earlier. Like the drug was affecting him. Then he reached out to her, and she froze, not confident if he only wanted to bite into her, or he was beseeching her for some reason. With another hungered moan, his eyes jaundiced eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell forward, the reanimated life within him leaking out through his mouth and onto the carpet in the white foam of an overdose as he seized. Once his body stopped flailing, Christina rushed over to him on bare feet, kneeling down and feeling for any sign of undead life she could think of, finding nothing. And she did something she didn’t think she could anymore.

  She smiled.

  * * *

  All three of them crowded around the door that led out of the office, weapons in hand as the two men surrounded Christina. She had the other filled syringe in one hand and another one of her golf clubs in the other. If it came down to using the metal rod, she would, but she was secretly hoping all of the creatures that had been crowding the door were gone. It had fallen silent on the other side of the door, the scratching and moaning dying down within at least half an hour after they discovered an overdose on the intramuscular Ativan worked to kill them. She had deduced that the brain chemistry of the newly risen was highly unstable and easily altered by the drug, and their circulatory systems still functioned somehow.