She reached the other stairwell and looked through the window in the door, shining the light through. She opened it a crack, being very cautious until she was sure there was nothing lurking behind it, then she pushed it open.
Silence.
Sarah walked to the edge of the railing, keeping the toe of her shoe stretched out behind her to hold open the door as she leaned her head over the edge and looked down.
Suddenly there was a noise, and it came from behind her. It was a faint squeak like a wheel that needed some grease. The noise scared her so badly that she jumped on the spot, inadvertently letting go of the door and jumping even higher as it slammed behind her. She spun around and clawed at the handle, pulling it open and dashing back into the third-floor hallway with her rifle and flashlight raised and ready to fire before settling down.
The tiny door to the other stairwell at the end of the hallway remained closed, and she never took her eyes off of it. But she started to second-guess herself, telling herself that he already came through the door, then arguing back that there was no way he could have done it in such a short time without her hearing or seeing anything.
The squeaky sound echoed through the corridor again.
Sarah stopped.
It was somewhere far down the hall, but the stairwell door didn't move.
She couldn't understand what she was hearing, and when silence fell over the area again, she cautiously began to creep forward. Suddenly every patient room next to her was like a tomb of death, hiding a lurking evil that wanted to reach out and grab her and swallow her whole. She flicked the flashlight into each room very briefly as she passed before returning the light back down the hallway. Every time she did, old beds and monitoring equipment would move and shift along with their shadows in the bright light, giving the illusion of quick movement, and it would scare her each time, knowing that if there were actual movement from one of the rooms, she would never see it until it was too late.
The squeaking sound came once more, then nothing. It sounded like it was close-by, but it couldn't have been; there was no way the killer could have reached her floor without coming through one of the stairwells, and she was positive he hadn't.
The fear buzzed through her brain, making it itch. She wanted to rip off the helmet and throw it away like it were a bomb about to go off, but she kept it on, her better judgment holding steady.
Sarah reached the end of the hall, passing every room and the lifeless old elevators, and came to the nurses' station. She shone the flashlight toward the staff rooms behind the counter, but there was no way entry could have been gained through them unless the killer had somehow climbed the outside of the building and slipped in through a window. She knew the thought was ridiculous, but she kept the flashlight and rifle pointed toward the tucked away rooms for a moment, wondering.
When Sarah had been walking down the hallway, trying to find the source of the strange noise, looking from room to room, she had completely ignored the open elevator door that she passed, her brain no longer paying any attention to it since there was no power to the building.
As she stood with her back to it, the killer climbed up from the elevator shaft and stepped into the hallway.
Sarah swept the flashlight back to the stairwell next to her, completely oblivious about what was behind her. The football helmet hugging against her ears prevented her from hearing his quiet footsteps on the floor as he approached.
A strong gust of wind flew through the shattered ER doors on the ground floor and went up through the open elevator shaft. It became faint by the time it reached the third floor, the tail end of it just licking at the back of Sarah's exposed neck between her coat and the helmet. As her skin tickled and gave her a little shudder, she turned around, curious.
The knife sailed through the air, coming down in an arc. She staggered backward, the blade sweeping down in front of her face and missing her body. Her momentum carried her into the wall and her back hit it with a hard thud. Sarah aimed the AK-47, holding the flashlight in her front hand to illuminate the killer.
By the time she took aim and pulled the trigger, he had already taken off down the hallway. The gun recoiled crazily in her hands as the incredibly loud noise of gunfire pierced the stillness of the dark hospital. Her arms were badly shaking, causing her accuracy to go out the window as the bullets sprayed around in a wide scatter and missed the killer completely.
When she let go of the trigger and the gun stopped kicking, she steadied the flashlight and tried to see where he went.
Something moved in a quick flash at the edge of the light before it was gone, and she craned her neck, taking a few steps forward as she tried to decide which room he had hidden in.
Silence settled over the floor again as she slowly crept down the hallway. Her heart was pounding like crazy and the whole event happened so fast that she couldn't be sure it wasn't just a trick of the light.
Sarah walked past the elevators, finally noticing that one of them had been pried open, and suddenly she understood what happened. The patient rooms came up on either side of her next, and she walked through them very slowly, holding the flashlight and rifle up, constantly swiveling them from side to side. She saw that he disappeared into a room a little bit farther down, but now she was second-guessing herself, fearing that he would pop out of a room next to her at any moment. As her eyes flitted back and forth along the hallway, she searched her memory and now couldn't even recall with absolute certainty which side of the hallway he had gone.
The corridor loomed in front of her like the Grim Reaper offering her comfort with one hand and hiding his scythe behind with the other. Its black claws beckoned her and she followed.
Two rooms came up on both sides of her and she snapped the gun quickly both ways before taking a better look. She shined the flashlight in the room on the left, highlighting two old and dusty beds with a faded sea-green curtain pulled open between them. She could see a bathroom at the far end, but only the entrance to it was in her line of sight, as the rest of it, along with a small portion of the main room, was hidden from view around a corner. She spun the other way and shone the light in the room to her right. This one had a single bed with its pale green curtain pulled all the way around it. The light from the flashlight lit the curtain up, and if there were anything hiding behind it, its shadow would have been painted across it.
But the light passed through, unobstructed.
A noise came from behind her, and she wheeled around in a state of great confusion as her tormented brain clouded itself with self-sabotaging barbs of disoriented white noise.
As the noise petered out, she realized it was just a gust of wind coming up the elevator shaft.
Quick footsteps clapped down the hallway behind her, fading into the distance. When she looked back, they were silent and she saw no movement at all.
The fear rose up from her chest into her throat where it settled into a hot bubble. It created incredible tension, making it hard for her to breathe. She started to go crazy trapped in her helmet as it amplified the sound of her labored breathing and made her panic even more, knowing that she would no longer be able to hear his footsteps if her episode continued.
The panic made her wild and she pulled the trigger of the assault rifle without even realizing she had done it. The gun jumped and a few bullets flew down the hallway, striking somewhere outside of the flashlight's view. The surprise put Sarah even more on edge, and she felt imaginary knives flying out of the darkness at her from every direction. She had a strong feeling in her gut telling her to run, as if standing still equated to death.
She finally snapped and her legs started to churn into motion. She started running down the hallway, the gun and flashlight bouncing in her hands as she went. It wasn't until she stopped at a T-junction with a perpendicular hallway next to her that she realized she was screaming.
"WHERE ARE YOU?!" Sarah cried. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" Her voice cracked and wavered and her eyes filled with tears.
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The sound of ruffling fabric came from the adjacent hallway.
Sarah pointed the light down the corridor as she sobbed and whimpered. At the end of it was a simple wooden door with a round window in it like a porthole and a different color of wood inlaid around it in the shape of a cross.
She crept toward it and shone the flashlight through the window, seeing a narrow view of a small room with plastic chairs and a stage. Sarah cautiously approached it, holding the gun up and waiting for the door to spring open. She pressed her helmet to the glass and tried to look through at the corners of the room before she entered. She didn't see anything moving, but she knew the noise came from the room.
Sarah pushed the door open with the barrel of her rifle. It made a quiet squeak as it gave way to the small chapel.
The small square room smelled of stale fabric and other musty scents. Plastic chairs lined up in rows on either side of an aisle that ran up to a stage at the end of the room. And a heavy burgundy curtain was drawn around the stage, concealing whatever was hiding behind it.
Sarah stood at the entrance of the chapel and aimed the assault rifle. She held the trigger and swept the gun from left to right. Bullets tore through the heavy fabric, covering the whole stage evenly, and she released the trigger. She listened to hear his body drop, but she knew she wouldn't have heard it through the sound of the gunfire and the muffling effect of the football helmet on her head. She paused for a few moments as a wisp of smoke slithered out the end of the gun's barrel and the burgundy curtain came to rest from the gentle sway that the bullets had given it.
Sarah walked forward, her stomach doing somersaults and her skin breaking out in a sweat.
The curtain loomed over her as she swept the light across it and tiny fibers and dust floated through the air, giving the room a hazy, surreal atmosphere.
Sarah reached the stage and extended a shaking hand for the edge of the curtain. Her brain screamed at her, telling her not to open it; there was an unknowable abyss behind it, and the anticipation of seeing it was the scariest thing of all.
Her fingers wrapped around the old, scratchy material. Her chest heaved in and out. She didn't want to do it. The silence became deafening in her ears as she heard nothing other than the sound of her heartbeat and her raspy breath.
She pulled the curtain open.
The only thing on the stage was a wooden podium punctured by a couple bullets. The rest of it was empty, devoid of any dead bodies.
The podium was suddenly hurled off the stage at her and the killer lunged out from behind it, holding the knife high in the air. He jumped down from the stage as Sarah backed up to dodge the bouncing podium, and he stepped forward and thrust the blade at her.
It came right for her face and the tip of it was stopped by the face mask of her helmet.
Sarah rolled her head away from it and she tried to aim the gun at him as she stumbled back out the chapel door.
But he was too quick, reaching her by the time she aimed the rifle, and he swung the knife, catching the barrel of her gun and knocking it out of her hands. It flew through the air and skidded across the floor into the main hallway behind her.
Sarah turned and ran for it as the killer followed. She managed to hold onto the flashlight and it swept up and down the hallway as she ran. She quickly tossed the light over her shoulder and looked at the killer.
His wide, unnatural smile was plastered over his face like a cartoon clown, and his eyes were wide and vacuous.
Sarah bent over as she ran and scooped up the gun, rounding the corner and heading for cover at the nurses' station. She tried to stop and shoot him, but he was right behind her stabbing the knife through the air at her, so she kept on the move, twisting her body around and popping off a couple shots when she could.
The killer weaved from one patient room to the next as he worked his way up the hallway to her, taking cover whenever she aimed and shot and zooming up to the next room before the next small volley of bullets.
When Sarah reached the elevators, she had gained some ground on him and she turned and planted her feet, taking careful aim as he dashed out of the last room for her.
He came at her and slashed his knife just as she squeezed the trigger.
A bullet flew past his neck and another one struck the blade of his knife, bouncing off and burying itself into the ceiling. The knife was ripped out of the killer's hand and landed on the floor behind him.
He was standing right in front of her, out in the open and defenseless as Sarah aimed the gun at his head. She entered full panic mode, but she held it together enough to line up the shot and pull the trigger.
The killer's arm shot out like lightning and he reached for the gun, using his hand to block his face as he twisted his head away. The palm of his hand landed on the tip of the barrel as two bullets flew out the end and pierced through it. Ribbons of blood sailed through the air and splattered on the wall behind him as he redirected the gun away from his head.
His demented smile faltered, and Sarah tried to pull the gun away from him, but he held onto the barrel as the heat seared his punctured hand. She tried to hold onto it, but he was too strong. He yanked the gun out of her grasp, reaching out and holding it over the empty elevator shaft next to him. And then he let go, letting the gun disappear into the darkness as the distant clangs of metal striking against metal floated up to them.
Sarah stood there in shock, her plan falling apart in front of her. She tried to turn and run, but he caught the back of her coat and yanked her to the ground. Her back slammed into the tile, disorienting her. She rolled her head over the cold floor and got an upside-down view of the killer walking over to his knife.
He picked it up and held it in his uninjured hand as he came back for her.
Sarah spun around on her back and scrambled away from him, trying to get back to her feet, but she didn't have the strength.
The killer calmly walked up to her, savoring her final moments.
Sarah's back hit the wall, and she knew she was out of room and out of time.
He stood over her as she raised her arms in terrified self-defense. He lifted his arm and paused with his knife in the air to take one last look at her.
Then she screamed and closed her eyes as he swung his arm down and drove the knife into her chest.
18
BURN WARD
The blow hit her next to her sternum, just beside her heart. The pressure was tremendous on her lung and she thought that she was dead.
The killer paused, still exerting his strength down on the handle of the knife as he inspected his strike.
Sarah opened her eyes and looked down at her chest, seeing the tip of the knife punctured through her coat, but the rest of the blade remaining uninserted. She couldn't believe her eyes. It worked.
The killer pulled the knife out and drove it down into her chest again as she recoiled in fear for a second time. It landed right over her heart, but it didn't go through. The smile slid off his face as he began to look puzzled. He grabbed her by the shoulder, retracted the knife, then thrust it into her gut.
Sarah tensed her abdominal muscles, trying to squirm away on the floor from his blows and being held in place by his strong grip, but she had again been protected from the stab.
The killer looked down at her like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He reached down and grabbed the zipper of her coat, pulling on it as she fought against him. He grabbed the face mask of her helmet with one hand and started slamming her head against the wall. He yanked her zipper down the rest of the way and pulled open her coat.
Underneath, Sarah's entire torso was covered in books that she had taped to her body. He could see the stab marks where he tried to kill her, and he ran his fingers along the damaged covers, prying them into the holes to feel the depth the knife reached before the pages stopped it.
Sarah tried to wiggle away again, but he still held onto her. He looked down at her and for the first time looked almost human. There was a
hint of anger on his face as he pulled her leg out, exposing the inside of her thigh, and shoved the knife into her, trying to sever her femoral artery. Sarah screamed as the tip of the steel was met with the dense protection of another book.
The killer pulled the blade away and patted down her leg, feeling books wrapped around the entire length of it, including her calf. He held onto her face mask and tried to stab through the top of her helmet.
She moved her head out of the way as she bucked madly beneath him. The knife scraped against the side of the helmet and was deflected away, and she pulled her leg up and kicked with her good ankle into his calf.
The killer stumbled onto his knee and tried to regain his position over her. He brought the knife up again and attempted to go for the face just above the mask as another kick landed in his stomach. He moved back a foot, but the kicked didn't do much to stun him. As he lunged forward again, Sarah managed to push him away one more time and shoved the heel of her shoe into his crotch. It made a hard thump sound and he fell onto his back.
Sarah scrambled up to her feet and ran for the baseball bat, but the killer turned onto his stomach and caught her ankle. She fell and hit the floor, the front of the helmet bouncing off the hard tile and saving her life.
He held onto her pant leg as he reached out with his other arm and swung the knife.
Sarah yanked her foot away just in time before the knife sliced through it, and instead it buried itself into the floor. She pushed herself up and ran for the patient room down the hallway where she hid the bat.
Behind her, the killer got up to his feet as he yanked the knife out of the floor, holding it up in front of him and inspecting the blade. The tip of it had broken off, leaving a jagged and uneven point. He looked at it with disinterest, then he tossed it away.
The flashlight had been lost somewhere in the scuffle, and Sarah could barely process where she was let alone try and find it. But the moonlight coming through the windows in the area was just enough for her to see.
Zombie Apocalypse Series (Book 3): Ashes in the Mouth Page 16