Waiting to Die ~ A Zombie Novel

by Cochran, Richard M.

  Pulling with all his might, Bill finally removes the bone saw from the fallen corpse’s head, placing his foot on its shoulder, and tugging the device from the splintered skull. With a look of disgust, he turns back toward the wretched body, slowly walks forward, and wields the weapon above his head once again.

  He sends the weapon down with a loud crack and lets it fall to the floor beside him.

  Dr. Pratt lays sprawled out on the floor in the janitor’s closet, his abdomen thrown open, intestines dangling across his legs like lengths of bloody rope. Bill holds back the urge to puke, covering his mouth with his hand, and closes the door to the closet. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself when he hears the sound of shuffling in the next room. Suddenly, he remembers the bodies in refrigeration and runs into the other room of the morgue, slipping on the blood congealing on the floor. He quickly regains his balance as he turns the corner and continues in a sprint. Three of the six bodies in cold storage have animated, leisurely bumping into one another as he throws himself at the door to gain leverage in an attempt to close the bodies in.

  The shambling, aimless dead surge toward the door, moaning as they realize there is something living at the threshold. With jerking movements, the bodies encroach on stiffened limbs, mouths slack like the hungry pleading for nourishment.

  With all his weight, Bill pushes at the door again, launching one of the cadavers into the other two. Like bowling pins, the bodies topple over one another until they are struggling on the floor, hissing like rabid dogs. He slams the door, fastens the handle and slides the locking pin into place.

  Shaking from fear, Bill leans against the door, panting. As the tingling in his body subsides, he gains the courage to move. His legs are heavy from the exertion, weighed down by the adrenalin that slowly dissipates through his veins.

  His moment of peace is interrupted by the muted sound of gunfire. Cries, pleas for help, and trampling sounds from above bombard his ears. It's as if a war has erupted. He holds his breath in anticipation of every sound, hoping for some type of sign to make sense of it all.

  He returns to the other room and retrieves the bone saw from the floor and holds it at his side, trying to gain enough courage to wander out beyond the morgue. He wants nothing more than to get away from whatever is happening in the hallways and patient rooms above him. Thinking quickly, he decides to make a break for the emergency exit when static erupts from the intercom on the desk.

  War-torn noises thunder from the speakers, brining the hell from above closer to home. He can hear a woman scream, pleading for her life as a deep, soul-wrenching moan moves closer to the intercom. There is a popping sound and a cry of pain. More gunfire erupts, louder than before, projected over the phone, making the speaker crack and hiss with the volume. He can hear a thud, followed by a moment of silence.

  Bill tries to shake the sounds, but is rooted to the spot when he hears a brittle crack from the recoil of the gun. The intercom goes silent. He waits for only a moment before throwing open the office door and emerging into the hallway, frantic to get away.

  Beyond the morgue, the hall is empty and otherwise quiet, save for the muted sounds from the hospital above. Bill takes off in a sprint, heading along the corridor, trying to put distance between him and the hell that he has been thrown into. After taking a hard left, he faces the door to the stairwell, his heart pumping heavily in his chest. He opens the door, waiting patiently, listening for anything that might indicate that he is alone. Relatively assured that it is safe, he takes to the stairs, skipping every other one until he is at the first landing.

  A lone figure shambles past the window on the other side of the door that looks out into the first floor reception area. Bill pauses for fear of being spotted, and waits until the corpse is out of sight. His plan for leaving through the first available emergency exit thwarted, he turns and begins to climb the next flight of stairs. There is a fire escape on every floor, and he intends to use one of them to get as far away from this nightmare as he can.

  Turning the corner, heading towards the second flight of stairs, he only makes it a third of the way up before he realizes that there is someone standing motionless on the landing above him. Becky stares blankly downward as if she were in a trance. Glaring at the floor, her hair hangs over her face, sweaty and in strands.

  “Becky?” Bill smiles at her familiar face.

  Becky's jaw slackens and her gaze fixates on a new objective. Her eyes lock onto him as her mouth distorts into an open maw. Black and red stained teeth expose themselves, protruding through tightened, cracking lips. Her slithering tongue juts outward, curling in on itself, licking at the air.

  “Shit!' He exclaims as creature awkwardly moves forward.

  At the first step that she makes, her foot twists to the side at the ankle, skidding on the stairs, and she begins to fall. Bill steps to the side, wielding the bone saw shoulder height as the corpse falls by him. Sprawled out on the landing below, it struggles to get up, seeming infatuated with the man that stands above her.

  Raising the weapon higher, Bill exclaims, “Don't do it, Becky. Please...”

  The corpse pulls itself up on all fours in an effort to stand, growling at the sound of Bill's voice. A thin stream of red tinted saliva hangs from her mouth as Bill backs up along the stairway.

  “Please, Becky. Don't,” he pleads with her.

  Having risen to its feet, the corpse takes a step forward, jerks on unsure legs, and reaches out toward the prize that stands before it. She grazes Bill's lab coat as he backs up along the stairs, keeping his distance from the woman.

  In a swift, spasmodic movement, the body reaches out again causing Bill's instinct to take over. He swings wildly, catching the corpse alongside its temple. The blade glances off of slick bone and imbeds itself into her cheek. The cadaver recoils from the impact, and lashes back with a deafening howl.

  Again, Bill wields the weapon above his head as the creature’s torn face glares at him. Through skin and meat, a portion of bone shows through below the corpse’s eye, winding down to the cavernous gash along its mouth. The body launches itself at the living flesh before it, enraged and howling through blood and spit.

  In one swift movement, Bill sends the saw down into the creature’s skull, splitting through to the pulp that rests under the surface of gleaming bone. The body collapses like a rag doll, suddenly devoid of the automation that allowed it to exist.

  Bill stares at the heap of flesh on the stairs below his feet and lets out an exhausted breath. He grits his teeth in anger, clenches his fist, and drops the weapon once more. With a clang, the bone saw hits the ground next to Becky's body.

  Bill’s chest convulses as the first tears of sorrow grace his reddening eyes. He begins to sob, clasping his mouth with his hand in an effort to conceal his pain. Grief overcomes him as he stares at the woman’s body. He had spoken to her, not even an hour ago and now he was standing above her lifeless form, smeared in her blood, and quivering from grief.

  “What the hell is happening?” he asks aloud.

  A sudden explosion jerks him back into reality and he braces himself against the wall as the building shakes in the aftermath. He looks down at Becky; at his fallen friend, at what she has become and wipes away the tears from his eyes. Another explosion prompts him to leave as debris from the ceiling showers him in fine, white dust. He shields his eyes and steps over Becky’s body, ascending to the next flight of stairs.

  The sounds of mayhem recede, becoming faint as Bill arrives at the second floor of the hospital. Peering through the window at the next level, he only sees an empty hallway beyond. Slowly, he begins to turn the doorknob, trying to stay as silent as possible for fear of more of the creatures lurking out of his range of sight. The door gives easily, sending a rush of air that smells of bleach and sanitizer into the stairwell. There is a faint odor of something burning, but he can’t tell where it is coming from.

  Pushing the door in toward the hall, Bill scans his surroundi
ngs, and walks through. He can hear a barrage of gunfire outside of the building, snapping away, bursting through the cracks and pangs of the building.

  With a crash, the hospital shakes violently as an explosion rocks its foundation, emanating from somewhere outside. Florescent fixtures give way above Bill's head, sending scraps of ceiling tile and dust raining down. The lights begin to flicker in a strobe effect, disorienting and confusing him to the point where he has to close his eyes to regain his bearings.

  Once he recovers, he is overwhelmed by an orange glow that shines through the tiny windows of every one of the hospital rooms. As far as he can see along the hallway, the luminescence radiates through, giving off an eerie glow that makes him imagine that this is what Hell might look like. Smoke wafts in from underneath the doors, mixing with the odor of burnt hair and cooking meat.

  As his skin warms and tingles, Bill realizes that the south side of the building is engulfed in flames and the fire is spreading. He runs along the hall, covering his mouth with his undershirt as the smoke thickens. He rips off a portion of his t-shirt and moistens it in the drinking fountain which resides in a small indentation in the wall. He places the fabric over his face, hoping it is enough to keep out the toxins in the air.

  Even with his vision obstructed by the rolling smoke, Bill has an idea of where he is going. Winding himself eastward, he keeps as low to the ground as possible. Fumes blur his vision, and he is forced to wipe at his eyes in an effort to see.

  The door to one of the patient rooms flies open with a resounding whoosh - a gurgling scream rattles through the sounds of crackling wood and snapping tile. He dodges a flaming body as it runs toward him. What he can only assume was a patient slams hard against the far wall, bouncing backward against the floor from the impact. He smells charred meat as the body slumps over. Beneath the flames, a blackened silhouette sizzles and cracks into a burning heap. He gasps through the rag over his face, sickened by the experience, shaken by the horror of watching someone burnt alive.

  He closes his eyes as he passes the pile of charred flesh and moves as far from the body as he can. Placing his back to the wall, he slides around the hellish scene. The body twitches with the last throes of death as its limbs begin to curl and smolder. The fleshly embers ignite the wall behind them, and flames begin to dance up along the wallpaper. He coughs through the rag around his face, crouches low, and scurries away under the smoke.

  At the east wing of the building, Bill makes a sharp left and turns into a corridor that leads to the fire escape. From the corner of his eye, he catches the slightest movement amongst some rubble that has fallen from the aftermath of the explosion. Pausing for a moment, he glances to the far corner of the hallway. There, on the floor before him, a young girl sits prone, huddled in on herself, coughing in between heavy sobs. Immediately, he realizes that she is alive, that somehow this little girl has survived the mayhem. He bends to one knee and places his hand on her shoulder.

  “Are you all right?” Bill asks, raising his voice over the crackling.

  The girl recoils from fright and shields her face from attack.

  “It's okay,” Bill pulls away to keep from frightening her further. “You're going to be safe. I'm going to get you out of here.”

  She looks up at Bill and coughs. Her eyes relax and she extends her hand.

  He curls his fingers around the child’s hand. “Put this over your mouth,” he says and places the scrap of cloth from his mouth onto hers before leaning down to hoist her up into his arms. “Just hold on, we'll be out of here in a second.”

  Nodding, the child tucks her face into Bill's chest; her hairless head protruding slightly from the collar of his lab coat. Bill covers the child with his hand, nearly concealing her completely from the debris that continues to fall from above. She weighs nothing at all, a simple waif stricken by whatever terrible god that allows children to become sick. He can feel the bones of her shoulders and back pressing into him as if he were carrying a bag full of twigs rather than a child.

  As he turns toward the fire escape, the silhouette of something catches his eye. The faintest outline of a person comes into view through a doorway that leads into a patient’s room. Reaching outward, arms held slack, the person moves into the light shining in through the fire exit. A horrible mouth opens, burnt and disfigured. The creature encroaches as fast as its charred legs will allow it to move. An exposed, blackened skull pokes through its scalp, almost gleaming in spots that haven’t been covered with soot. Its charred insides release. Gas escapes through its maw; rancid and thick with the fluids that have built from within its burnt lungs. The ghoul coughs out a moan that sends bits of spittle and gore out onto its smoldering hospital gown.

  The child clings onto Bill when she hears the monster cry out. As the creature reaches out toward the girl, Bill pulls back, balances himself on one foot, and kicks the body in the chest. Collapsing in on itself, the corpse loses its footing and flies backward into the room, skidding a few feet until it finally comes to rest near the hospital bed. Flames rage at the far side of the room, licking at the walls as smoke billows out through open portions of the drywall.

  Quickly, he pulls the door toward himself as the creature snarls, hissing like a snake about to strike. Before the door can be fully closed, the creature throws itself against the obstruction, slamming itself in. Its face is pressed tightly against the window, smearing blackened gore across the surface as its teeth gouge uselessly against it. Snapping at the living on the other side, the corpse flails its arms wildly as the flames spread behind it, igniting its gown.

  For only a moment, he watches the hideous thing as it becomes engulfed by fire, slamming itself against the prison door that has entrapped it. He backs away and turns to the fire exit.

  The picture is stained within his imagination; an unemotional automaton swallowed by flame, captivated by nothing more than the hunger that drives it.

  “I'm going to set you down for a minute so I can open the window,” he explains to the child. Her grip tightens as Bill tries to place her on the floor. “It's going to be okay. I'm going to put you down for a second. You'll be fine.”

  The girl looks up at him and stares into his eyes. She nods and loosens her grip, allowing him to place her next to him on the floor.

  Unfastening the clasp above the window, he slides it open and motions to the girl to go out first. Fresh evening air filters through, pushing away the sting of the smoke that fills the hallways inside. Cautiously, the child extends her leg out as if testing the surface of the fire exit to make sure it is real. Satisfied, she pulls her other leg out behind her as Bill follows closely behind, guiding the child with his hands on her shoulders.

  With two flights of stairs below him, he looks down through the grating at the empty alley behind the hospital. He follows the girl, helping her along the way while scanning his surroundings. The sound of gunfire and screaming has become louder once they make it outside of the building, causing the child to jerk from fright with every sound.

  “We're going to be okay,” he tells her, pointing off through the dimming daylight to the parking lot behind the hospital. “See? There are ambulances back there. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance?”

  She nods her head, yes.

  “Then you know that they’re pretty safe,” he replies.

  She nods again.

  At ground level, he peers around the corner of a storage container and out towards the ambulances that are parked along the unloading area. On the other side of the fence that surrounds the rear of the hospital, only a few straggling bodies wander past.

  He turns the child toward him as he crouches down to her level. “Okay,” he whispers, “we have to stay really quiet so those people over there don't see us.”

  Her whisper is hoarse, “I can be quiet.”

  Bill smiles at her, “Good girl. Now stay right behind me.”

  Oblivious, the dead shamble past the partially open gate as Bill crouches down low, making his wa
y around the containers. He keeps his arm extended behind himself to make sure the child doesn't bump into him and moves to the side of the nearest ambulance. At the door, he slowly pulls the handle, opening the door a crack.

  With a glance, he notices the keys in the ignition. “Move to the back so I can get in behind you,” he whispers while guiding the child into the vehicle.

  As soon as he clicks over the ignition, he throws the vehicle into drive and hits the throttle. The ambulance roars to life, sending a trail of skid marks along the asphalt as it gains traction and crashes through the gate.

  “Hold on!” He exclaims as he wrenches the steering wheel to the right, accelerating onto the street that leads out to the main avenue in front of the hospital.

  The child tumbles in the back like a doll, hitting the left portion of the ambulance as Bill maneuvers past a mass of cadavers that pepper the road in front of the vehicle. A body glances off the side of the front quarter panel, sending a spray of gore up against the driver’s side window. Gore smears its way along the glass as the ambulance accelerates, creating jagged trails like translucent pop art.

  Bodies are being sucked up under the ambulance, causing it to jerk as the dead become mulched under the tires. He tries his best to swerve between the corpses, but with the sheer number of bodies, that task is all but impossible. The steering wheel jerks out of his hand as a cadaver gets lodged under the passenger side wheel well, sending the ambulance out of control over the curb line. As the rear tire makes contact with the concrete, it buckles and blows, causing sparks to rain out from under the vehicle. With the weight of the ambulance suddenly shifting, the vehicle leans and begins to topple.

  Outside, the world blurs and twists as the ambulance rolls uncontrollably. Cargo dislodges from the shelves, tossed around like clothes in a dryer. Smacking hard against the roof of the vehicle, the child becomes buried by medical equipment, only an arm remains visible from the mass of debris that covers her prone body as the ambulance shakes violently.