Dead, but Not for Long

by Kinney, Matthew

  “It all looks good but I’m not sure I want to get close enough to use them,” Jack said. “I wonder if slitting a throat would have any effect.”

  Keith glanced at Jack. “Good question. I was hoping for a crowbar or an ax but there was nothing like that. At least we’ll have something to fight with if any of the infected get through.”

  Jack checked his pistol. “Hope I’m getting overtime.”

  “You and me both,” Keith told him.

  “Why don’t you just use my gun?” Marla asked, picking up a scalpel and looking it over.

  “I’ve already used up most of the ammo,” Keith said.

  Marla dug through her purse and pulled out a magazine and then two more. “Here, will these help? I think they’re refills or something.”

  Keith blinked and took the magazines from her. “These will help. Thanks.”

  Turning back to Jack, he said, “I need to go check on my patients.”

  He returned a while later and told the others, “We need to get the meds, soon, especially for those on the fifth floor.”

  The top floor housed the intensive care unit and had several trauma patients, some of whom were on anti-seizure medication as well as other critical meds. “If we don’t figure out a way to do it, some of them are going to die.”

  His head jerked toward the elevator when he heard the bell ring.

  “Damn,” he said, pulling the gun. “I thought you disabled that.”

  “I did,” Jack said. “Someone must have used a key.”

  “Let’s hope it’s not someone who’s been infected,” Keith said, gun ready.

  He took a deep breath and readied his gun, training it on the elevator door as it slowly opened.

  ~*~

  Eric flew into a state of panic. He didn’t know what bothered him the most; the fact that he may have lost his new companion, or that she might be behind him ready to rip his throat out. He turned around and saw that his room was empty, except for the clutter that was perpetually strewn about. There was no trail of suds or water leading out of the bathroom. Did she have the presence of mind to dry off? Or to hide? The questions haunted him. He sat on the edge of the bed to gather his thoughts. Where could she hide?

  Staring at the closet door that was open just enough to reveal darkness, Eric thought he saw it move, ever so slightly. He stood up and inched toward it, debating on whether to open it slowly or catch her by surprise. He grabbed the door knob and jerked it back to reveal a most hideous sight: his velour sports jacket from the early ‘80s. He only took a few seconds to admire it then continued the task at hand. His last option was to look under the bed. Nothing was there but a collection of dirty socks and his private magazine stash.

  Returning to the bathroom, Eric sat on the toilet, staring at the bubbles that his “Cheri” had bathed in. The bubbles seemed to tease him as they moved in a waving dance. He stood up to the realization that the bubbles really were moving. Reaching into the middle of the tub, he lifted her so that her head was above the water. He thought she looked ridiculous with suds hanging on her still snapping jaws and water pouring from her mouth and nose.

  “I knew you wouldn’t leave me!” he exclaimed excitedly.

  Cheri’s expression never changed.

  Eric emptied the tub and lifted her by the ankles to drain the remaining water from her lungs. He struggled to hold her high enough and she constantly snapped at his boots until he put her back down. After he dried her off, he modestly dressed her in his mother’s nightgown.

  “Isn’t that better?” he asked.

  Her answer was to lunge at him, jaws wide open. Her teeth clamped shut a fraction of an inch from his shoulder. Only his clumsiness saved him, as he fell back onto the floor.

  Getting back up, he regained control, keeping a safe distance. He managed to sit her in a chair, securing her to it with duct tape in several spots.

  “We’ll make this one look like a head band,” he told her, while wrapping a length of tape around her head to the back of the chair. As he pondered his close call, he recalled the man that had attacked him at the hospital. Returning to his closet, he grabbed a small tool box and brought it over to where she was sitting. Pulling out a pair of pliers, he smiled at her.

  “This should help me to trust you a little more. After all, what is a relationship without trust?”

  He lifted the pliers to her mouth.

  ~*~

  When the elevator doors opened and Keith saw who it was, he lowered the gun in relief.

  The gray-haired janitor glanced back and forth between Jack and Keith, running a hand over his handlebar moustache.

  “Are we arming the nurses now?” Ernie asked Jack. “I guess that’s one way to make the patients take those pills.”

  “Glad to see you’re still in one piece, Ernie,” Keith said. “I checked the other floors earlier and didn’t see you.”

  “I was resting my eyes,” Ernie said, rolling his mop bucket out of the elevator. “If I have to clean up any more zombie guts, I want time and a half.”

  “Don’t go to the first or second floor,” Jack told him. “They’re both overrun with the infected.”

  “I guess I’ll be able to finish my nap after this floor then,” Ernie said, taking the mop bucket down the hall.

  Keith placed the gun on the desk, not sure what else to do with it. He was glad that they had the weapon, though the thought of Marla handling a gun was nothing short of terrifying. The woman still hadn’t figured out how to work the remote controls on the televisions in the patients’ rooms.

  “All right,” Jack said. “The patients need their medications. That’s second floor, so we’ll have to clear it first.”

  “And food,” Keith said, glancing at the clock. It was already well past noon and several of them had asked for lunch when he’d made his rounds. “Some of them can’t take their meds without food.”

  “The medications we can maybe do, but then we’ll have to go to the cafeteria for food and that’s on the first floor with the ER,” Jack said, thinking out loud.

  “That’s going to be a problem,” Keith said. “It was bad enough when we were down there before, but with the front doors open, who knows how many more have wandered in from the outside? Even with the extra magazines for Marla’s gun, we wouldn’t have enough for the bottom two floors.”

  “We have one advantage over them,” Jack stated. “They don’t seem to be too smart. And like you said, I doubt that they even have the capability to use a door knob. I think the only way they could get through a closed door would be by sheer numbers. You get enough of them pushing on anything, it’s going to give. Too bad we couldn’t lure them off the floor and trap them somewhere.”

  Keith paced for a moment, thinking about what Jack had just said. “What about the physical therapy room?” he suggested. “We could lead them in there and lock the door.”

  The physical therapy room was connected to the exercise room by a wall that had a door and a large window in it. Both rooms had large windows looking out at the hallway.

  “We’d just have to go through the exercise room and then back out to the hall, leaving them inside. What do you think?”

  “I’m game,” Jack replied. “Let’s just try not to get cornered.”

  “That’ll be the fun part,” Keith said. He walked over to the computer to find the list of necessary medications. As the list was printing, he checked his phone to find two more messages from Shanelle.

  “I need to make a quick call,” he told the others, punching the buttons on the phone. He tried twice, but couldn’t get through, so he finally just texted her, telling her as much as he could in a short message. He advised her to check the news and to find a safe place to go until the crisis was over. The message was sent but he had no way of knowing if she got it. He grabbed the list and tucked it into his pocket before turning back toward Jack.

  “Ready?” Jack asked.

  Keith nodded. “Let me go check the stairs first and
see how the second floor looks.”

  He peeked through the window into the stairwell and once he was sure it was clear, he went in, looking up and down the stairs before walking down one floor. When he reached the second floor, he could see through the window that there were several infected nearby. Once they spotted Keith, they came over and began to press against the door, trying to get in. He was taller than most of them so he could see over their heads and he noticed that the elevator looked clear, but it was hard to say how long that would last.

  Keith ran back up to tell Jack what he’d learned.

  “And I’m guessing I drew more of them toward the door. This might be our best chance to take the elevator, while they’re busy.”

  “Damn,” Jack swore, “I hate elevators!”

  “Especially when we know what’s waiting for us,” Keith replied, taking the gun and magazines from Marla again. He checked the gun to make sure the safety was off.

  Jack used his key to activate the elevator once they got inside.

  When it stopped, Keith held his breath as the doors opened.

  “Here goes nothing,” he said quietly.

  ~*^*~

  ~07~

  The front teeth came out quite easily. Eric found that if he rocked them back and forth once or twice, he could twist them right out. The molars were another story. There was nothing but raw force that could remove them. Several of them cracked in the process and had to be dug out with needle-nose pliers. He was surprised at the small amount of blood, forgetting that there was no beating heart to move it. Then he noticed something odd. The blood actually seemed to be clotting where the teeth had been pulled, which seemed strange since the woman was dead.

  Eric was almost disappointed when it was over. He had worked it out so perfectly. Cheri’s ‘headband’ had kept her upper jaw from clamping down, and his thumb, which had fit perfectly into the space where her two bottom front teeth had been, had secured her lower jaw. He was sure he could have been a dentist if he weren’t so drawn to action.

  She seemed to take the operation well, as she was more concerned with eating Eric than worrying about her dental work. He made sure to wash his tools and spray them with disinfectant. He then approached her with the bottle. She instinctively opened her mouth which he quickly filled with a disinfectant fog. She bit at the spray, frustrated when she hit nothing but air. He almost felt pity for her or was it empathy?

  “I’m hungry all the time too,” he admitted to his reanimated companion, “and now I took away your ability to eat. Some friend, huh? Maybe we can take care of that.”

  He went upstairs and returned to the room a few minutes later carrying a small package, which he opened promptly. The label read Tofu.

  “Mom used to trick me into eating this,” he admitted to Cheri. “She said I ate too much red meat. Supposed to be a good substitute. Let’s see if you like it.”

  He put a chunk in front of her face, which she immediately snapped up, chewing with ferocity.

  “That a girl!” he said with delight. Upon closer inspection, he saw that her chewing was mechanical and the tofu flopped from her mouth. Then Eric had a breakthrough. He returned upstairs to see his mother still sitting by the window, peeking out now and then.

  “Those people are getting closer,” she said in a nervous tone. “There are some in the yard now.”

  “It’ll be okay, Mom,” Eric assured her as he looked through the bathroom cabinets. Disappointed, he went to the kitchen and checked under the sink.

  “Bingo!” he yelled, pulling out a mousetrap with a recently killed rodent.

  “What, Dear?” his mother asked.

  “Bingo,” he replied. “That’s what I’m going to call the dog.”

  He stuffed the dead mouse into his pocket as he ran back to the stairwell. Hesitating, he turned back.

  “And Mom, stay away from the window!”

  ~*~

  When Keith and Jack stepped out of the elevator onto the second floor, several pairs of eyes turned their way, as well as a few single eyes. They moved down the hall, dropping a couple of the infected right away to start clearing a path toward the exercise room. Several more shots followed as the two men continued their grim work.

  “Watch the ones on the ground!” Jack yelled. “Looks like half of them are crawling.”

  Jack turned to run backwards behind Keith, watching for anything that might be exiting hidden doorways.

  “Gotcha,” Keith said. He spun to his right when he caught movement there. His shot took the back of the ghoul’s skull off and left most of its brains on the wall. He barely had time to swing back around before another one was right in front of him. He shot for the heart, instinctively, cursing to himself when he realized what he’d done. He fired again, this time aiming for the head and putting the creature out of its misery. Two more took its place.

  “Jack!” he yelled, taking the one on the left. The one on the right dropped just a second later.

  “Thanks, Man, I owe you for that,” Keith said.

  “I have the feeling that the way this day’s been going, you’ll have plenty of chances to return the favor.”

  They continued to work their way down the hallway and finally reached the exercise room. Keith grabbed the handle to open it, only to find the door locked. He swore quietly, realizing that the gunshots were drawing more of the infected; many more.

  “Please tell me that you have a key for this room,” he said. The undead were swarming toward them from both directions.

  Jack held out a chain hooked to his belt with a multitude of keys on it.

  “I hope you have a lot of ammo,” he stated nervously while searching through the set.

  “I’d like to tell you that I do, but I’d hate to give you false hope.” Keith carefully picked his shots, taking only the closest ones. Once down, they caused some of the others to stumble, though they always got back up.

  Jack reached into a pocket of his uniform and pulled out a set of reading glasses. He put them on and continued shuffling through his keys. “It’s hell getting old,” he mumbled without looking up.

  “Well, if you don’t find those keys soon, you might not have to worry about that anymore,” Keith replied, firing off another shot. “Not that I’m trying to rush you or anything,” he added, taking aim at another one and squeezing off a round to drop it in its tracks.

  “Ah ha!” Jack exclaimed as he held up a key and stuck it in the lock. “See? No problem.”

  He opened the door and quickly but cautiously entered with Keith right behind.

  “No problem,” Keith agreed with relief. Pushing the door closed again, he managed to turn the lock from the inside just before dead hands began to slam against the door.

  “We may as well wait until they’re all here before we let them in. I’ll go check the physical therapy room,” Keith said.

  Jack started to search the exercise room. He was unnerved by the sight of the dead in the hallway pressing their faces against the large viewing glass. Their numbers seemed to be growing exponentially. He looked around the room for crawlers but found nothing. Approaching a closet labeled “Equipment,” he jiggled the handle. He thought he heard a muffled scream.

  “Hello!” he called out. “I’m with hospital security. We’re clearing this room.”

  He started to pull out his keys but stopped when he saw the doorknob slowly turn.

  The closet door opened to reveal a very frightened young woman and a child.

  “Keith!” Jack yelled. “We’ve got survivors!”

  ~*~

  Eric dangled the mouse in front of Cheri. She seemed to be much more excited about the rodent than the tofu. As she strained to grab it with her mouth, she rocked the chair wildly. He dropped it into her yearning jaws and she clamped down with her gums. When the chewing stopped, the tail draped from the corner of her mouth. Eric pulled on her lower jaw to see the rodent jammed in her throat. Yanking it by the tail, he pulled it out to examine it.

 
; “You’re going to need help,” he told her as he drew a hammer from his tool box. He thought about the blender for a second, but figured it would be too hard to explain to his mother. Holding the creature by the tail, he began to pulverize it on his bedroom floor. Some small pieces flew into various parts of his room and a chunk of fur stuck to the hammer. Cheri became visibly agitated by the sight of the blood and flying meat.

  Eric scraped up the pile of remaining flesh and dropped it into her mouth, and she quickly devoured it. The morsel only seemed to make her hungrier, which led Eric to conclude that her hunger must be more psychological than physical. He sat back, satisfied at his attempts to take care of her. Watching her lick the remaining blood from her lips, he keyed his radio.

  “Jack, you there?”

  “You haven’t been eaten yet?” Jack answered back.

  “Far from it, Boss,” Eric said, ignoring the sarcasm. “I’ve run some experiments and have come to some startling conclusions.”

  “What do you have?” Jack asked against his better judgment.

  “Jack, they don’t like tofu.” Eric sounded like he’d just discovered penicillin.

  There was a long pause on the radio before Jack answered back.

  “Eric,” his voice was harsh and deliberate, “don’t call me unless you have something important to say. If it has anything to do with tofu, don’t call. If you don’t know if it’s important or not, don’t call. If you’re about to be eaten, don’t call because I won’t be able to do anything about it. On second thought, call. It may improve morale around here!”

  The radio clicked off.

  “Grouch,” Eric muttered.

  Eric was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of breaking glass.

  ~*^*~

  ~08~

  Jack looked at the radio and shook his head, before turning his attention back to the issue at hand.

  Keith returned to the equipment room. He was glad to see that there were survivors on the floor, but it was going to make their mission just a little riskier. He hated to put the woman and child in more danger but now that they’d already drawn the infected to the glass, there was nothing they could do besides stick to the plan.