by Ivan Turner
"What's your name?" Heron asked the officer.
The young man looked a bit flustered. "Culph, sir."
Heron looked at Mancina. "One of your security guards, a Todd Mayfield, got out before the lock down went into effect. He was bitten."
Mancina went white. "Good God."
"I need you to address your entire staff. Mayfield needs to be found." He turned to Culph. "You go out and tell your superiors that I want every exit covered. Nobody goes in or out. Set up a two block perimeter. Cops only. I don't want the reporters in here."
Culph took off at a run and Mancina was already on the phone. Heron was breathing heavily, trying to figure out what to do next. Abruptly, he went for the phone again and dialed the extension for the exam room.
***
MARIE was starting to become feverish. Peter and Patricia had done their best with the wound. There wasn't much in the way of supplies in the exam room. Most of what they used in there was brought in on carts. The poor woman lay on the bed and sobbed for Jane.
Dr. Leke hung up the phone and turned to Peter. "He apologized for yelling. He said to thank you."
"Oh." Peter looked uncomfortable. "Well all right then."
Suddenly remembering the bag on her shoulder, Abby reached in and took out her phone.
"Who are you calling?" Dr. Leke asked in a none too friendly tone of voice.
Abby looked up at her. "I'm calling my husband, if you don't mind."
Dr. Leke seemed unsure of herself even as she tried to present a bold and confident facade. "Maybe we should discuss it with the police before we start making outside calls."
"Yeah," Abby agreed, nodding. "Maybe." Then she began to dial.
Martin picked up on the second ring. "Jesus, Abby, I'm about to go in for the interview."
"Where's Sammy?"
"He's at home with your parents, just like we discussed." Martin sounded annoyed, his voice barely above a hiss.
"Martin, I'm at Sisters of Charity hospital." Her voice broke. "There's been some trouble."
Martin's irritated breathing stalled and his voice leveled out. "What sort of trouble?"
"I had to bring a customer here and he…he died."
"Are you all right?" His voice was still even.
"Martin, he got up again. He bit this nurse and this security guard and they both died, too. And then they got up and we're trapped in the emergency room."
"Abby, what are you trying to say?"
Abby shook her head. "Oh, Martin, I'm sorry. I love you. I just, they've got us trapped and I wanted to hear your voice."
"You said Sisters of Charity, yes?"
"Yes." She was barely speaking now. In the background, she heard the room phone ring.
"I'm on my way there."
"What? Martin, that's not a good idea…"
Dr. Leke tapped her on the shoulder. Abby looked at her. She was holding the exam room's phone in one hand, offering it to Abby. Abby hadn't even heard it ring.
"It's the policeman," she said. "He wants to talk to you."
Abby knitted her brow. "Me? Why?"
Dr. Leke shrugged. "He asked for you by name."
Abby spoke into her cell phone. "Martin?" There was no answer. He was gone.
Taking the room phone, she put it to her ear, closing up the other putting it away at the same time. "Hello?"
"Abby, my name is Anthony Heron. Do you remember me?"
She shrugged. "I don't have a lot of experience with policemen, unless you're one of the officers who came into the gym last week."
"That's right," he said to her.
She pictured their faces in her mind. They were blurry but she could remember a few details. "Which one are you?"
"The handsome one," he said and she could hear him smiling. What she couldn't know was that he was smiling because Stemmy would have thought that was funny. But he went serious again right away. "Are you at the hospital because of one of those zombies?"
"Yes," she said tentatively. "Karl had a nosebleed and dropped a weight on his foot. I brought him down and he just died."
"Do you remember why I came in last week?"
"You came in about Larrry Koplowitz. He'd been killed." It suddenly dawned on her. "Is this connected?"
"Larry was a zombie. His wife and his little girl were also zombies."
Larry had a family. "Do you think it's connected to the gym? Could I be infected?"
Suddenly the others in the room looked at her a little differently.
"I wish you hadn't said that," Heron told her, picturing the reactions of the others in the room. "If you were infected, you'd probably know it."
"But it's been a week since Larry. And now Karl…"
Heron cleared his throat commandingly. "Abby, I need for you to keep a level head. If you're not sick then you're not infected."
There was a tap on her shoulder and she turned to see Peter, white faced, pointing at the door.
***
HERON turned away from the phone at the touch of a finger on his shoulder. It was Culph, returned from his assignment. He was pointing into the ER.
"Abby, are you still there?"
"They're coming in," she said to him. "They've figured out the door handle."
Jane was doing it. Maybe she'd leaned on it by mistake or maybe there was some semblance of a brain still left in that head. But she had her hand on the handle and she was pushing it down. After that it was just a matter of pushing…
"Block that door. Throw everything you have against it!"
Over the phone, Heron heard furniture moving and people shouting. He put down the phone. They needed to get in there now. Where the hell was Mancina?
Mancina was just coming back into the ER waving a slip of paper as the doors themselves opened to admit a familiar and unwelcome face. Dr. Denise Luco had been there when Stemmy had died. His week old memory had Heron remembering her as cold, typical, more concerned about her subjects than the lives attached to them. Today she wore a smart green skirt suit that was as starched as her personality. Her hair was done back in a pony tail showing off grey roots. The look on her face matched the black in her heart.
"What have you got there, Dr. Mancina?" she asked, cutting the hospital's chief off in his tracks.
"Um, do I know you, miss?"
"Dr. Denise Luco." She extended a hand which Mancina tentatively took. "I'm from the health department."
Heron reached for the paper, but Luco intervened. He tried to hold onto his calm as he said, "There are people trapped in that exam room and we need to get them out. I can take down all three of those zombies before they take two steps."
"I'm sorry, Detective. There's blood everywhere and we still don't have a handle on just how communicable the infection is. We need to analyze the situation better before we override the lockdown."
Heron growled and turned to Mancina. "Those are your colleagues in there, Doctor."
The poor man seemed overwrought with the decision at hand. Heron was locked in a very atypical display of frustration while Luco seemed cool and collected.
"I'm sorry, Detective. I have to defer to Dr. Luco on this matter." He handed the paper to her.
At least she didn't gloat.
Heron turned away from them and pulled Culph aside. The younger officer handed him a radio.
"Thanks," Heron said. "Do you want to do some real police work?"
Culph looked over at the two doctors. He'd overheard the conversation and put most of the pieces together. He nodded.
"Good," said Heron and then gave him a list of instructions.
***
THEY pushed the small table and the bed with Marie on it up against the door. Peter, desperately trying to hold the handle in position, complained bitterly about how strong the undead were.
"Everyone up against it!" shouted Dr. Leke.
They pushed themselves into the back of the bed, Everett crawling underneath to lock the wheels. The door pushed open an inch and then halted agai
nst their combined weight. Dr. Leke, Heron's warning still bouncing around in her head, searched the room desperately for a weapon but there was nothing. An IV stand stood unused on the corner but it was too long to be effective in the enclosed space. Even still, it was too light to do any real damage.
The bed moved.
Now all three zombies were pushing against the door together. Though their weight was less by far than the weight against the door, their strength seemed to have doubled. A hand came through, probing. It found Marie's leg and wrapped around it, pulling. She didn't even flinch.
"Get her off the bed!" Peter shouted and Dr. Leke had an idea. A terrible idea.
"Everyone into the corner," she told them, pointing to the right of the door. She was terrified at the prospect of what she was about to do but she didn't know whether she feared more for her body or her soul.
"They'll get right through," Peter hissed at her.
"They're coming through anyway." She couldn't tell them what she was going to do. They would never allow it.
Reaching forward, she grabbed Marie under the shoulders and pulled her from the bed. The girl felt hot and light in her arms. The zombie hand around her ankle resisted a bit but lost ground as the door pushed against it.
"Go now!" Dr. Leke cried and the four people moved away from the bed. The door burst open and the bed was pushed up against the side wall. Dr. Leke, with Marie in tow, stepped in front of the stumbling monstrosities, at the same time signaling for the others to hold. They huddled in the corner to her right, unsure of what was about to happen.
Then, just as the zombies regained what passed for their composure, she dumped Marie off to the left. The wounded and delirious girl fell to the floor with a thud and the three zombies pounced, fighting each other for the flesh.
Like dumb deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, the people just stared until Dr. Leke shouted at them to run. Abby was the first to recover, pushing and shoving at Patricia, Peter, and Everett until all four of them had cleared the room. Dr. Leke made a break for the open door but Sven, on the outskirts of the feast, caught wind of her and grabbed hold of her foot with his one good arm. He moved in to bite and she punched him hard in the mouth, years of martial arts training, long since abandoned, resurfacing for just that moment. But it wasn't enough. She was too old and they were too strong. Looking up, she saw Peter starting back toward her. In her last moments, she could see the sacrifice she had made for their lives and thought it good. But she could smell the blood, Marie's blood. Mercifully, the girl was too far gone to scream. But Dr. Leke wasn't. And as the first of the zombies sank its teeth into her thigh, she reached out and pushed the door shut.
Let's see them figure out how to pull it open, she thought and then was submerged in the agony.
***
THE radio crackled and Heron lifted it to his face.
"Detective Heron," came the tinny voice from the other end.
"Yeah."
"The guard's been sighted at the main entrance. He came out, saw the cops, and then went back in."
"Anyone tracking him?"
"I sent in two uniformed officers."
"Do not approach him. Repeat: do not approach him. Just keep track of his location."
It was time to go. Heron had to deal with the guard personally or he was likely to get himself killed or, worse, infect someone else. Unfortunately, he needed to deal with the situation in the ER as well. He would have to trust someone to do the job for him. He'd tried to call Abby back but she'd left the phone off the hook. He'd watched helplessly as the zombies spilled into the room, gritting his teeth against the outcome. At this point, he felt that errand he'd sent Culph on would be fruitless. Then four people spilled out of the exam room and the door shut behind them. He was only able to identify Abby for sure but both doctors were men so he assumed Dr. Leke had been left behind. The wounded girl was also missing. If the zombies didn't eat every last bit of them, then there would be two more to deal with. In a lightning flash of thought, Heron was able to apply that rate of infection to the world.
He did not like what he saw.
Culph came back into the ER with six officers and a large tote bag. One of the officers was carrying a sledge hammer.
Heron smiled at the stricken look on Dr. Luco's face.
"What are you doing?" She addressed Culph.
"We're going to get those people out of there," Heron answered and she turned to face him.
"You listen to me, Heron, that room is rampant with infection. If you open it up and those zombies get out…"
"They're not getting out. You'll test those four survivors before they go anywhere."
"Um," Dr. Mancina piped in. "I don't know what you've got in mind but you won't be able to get through those doors and windows with a sledge hammer."
Heron grinned again. "Who said anything about the doors and windows?"
Culph dropped and unzippered the bag. He pulled out a heavy duty drill and a chain saw. Heron was deadly serious about getting those people out of there but only half serious about cutting through the walls. He'd told Culph to get as many tools as he could lay his hands on. The more impressive the tools the better.
Heron led them over to where the walls met up with the first exam room and the one next to it. Dr. Luco moved to intervene but two of the officers, the biggest two, stepped into her path.
"Get out of my way."
"Sorry, ma'am."
"If she tries anything, arrest her for obstruction," Heron said.
"Oh, shut up, Heron. You can't arrest me for anything. And after this, you won't even be a cop anymore. None of you will."
The two officers looked at each other, considering her threat, but before the thought could settle in their heads, Heron turned on her. "Hey! Don't threaten me and don't you dare threaten these men, who understand what it means to be a police officer." He grabbed her around the bicep, his right hand easily encircling the whole thing. Dragging her off to the side, he laid his cards on the table. "Nothing's going to change in that room except that four more people might die. Somehow, they managed to corral those zombies into one place and I don't think they're smart enough to pull the door open."
She gulped in air as she sensed his frustration. It ate at her that she was intimidated by this man, but it was a feeling she couldn't escape and fell into desperation. "You don't understand. This is not an isolated event. If I can't figure out how to stop this infection, it'll make the black plague look like the common cold."
They stood there silently after that, each trying to make heads or tails of the other's motivations. Heron was keenly aware of the seconds ticking by, seconds during which the infected security guard was still loose in the building.
"I have to go," he said to her. "Let Dr. Mancina open the ER and I'll put you in charge."
Her eyes flared. How dare he presume to hold authority over her?! But the spiteful retort died in her throat. He did have authority. He had an entire police force with sledge hammers and chain saws. All she had was Dr, Mancina. Gulping, unable to speak, she nodded.