Nurse Alissa vs the Zombies
Scott M. Baker
Also by Scott M. Baker
Novels
Shattered World I: Paris
Shattered World II: Russia
The Vampire Hunters
Vampyrnomicon
Dominion
Rotter World
Rotter Nation
Rotter Apocalypse
Yeitso
Novellas
Dead Water
Nazi Ghouls From Space
Twilight of the Living Dead
This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things During the Zombie Apocalypse
Anthologies
Cruise of the Living Dead and other Stories
Incident on Ironstone Lane and Other Horror Stories
A Schattenseite Book
Nurse Alissa vs. the Zombies
by Scott M. Baker.
Copyright © 2020. All Rights Reserved.
No portion of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any electronic system, or transmitted in form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise, without written permission from the authors.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art © by Christian Bentulan 2020
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
PREVIEW OF NURSE ALISSA VS. THE ZOMBIES: ESCAPE
A Thank You to My Readers
Acknowledgments
About the Author
To all my fans who have been asking when I’m going to start writing about zombies again.
To my colleague and dear friend Alina who kept nudging me to get back into zombies.
This series would not have happened without you.
Chapter One
Alissa Madison grimaced as she sipped her coffee. She was used to it being tepid, more often than not the coffee having sat in the pot since the beginning of the shift. This shit tasted horrible. One of the nursing students must have made it, sacrificing any semblance of flavor for the infusion of caffeine. If she continued drinking this, it would kill her and bring her back from the dead. Alissa poured the contents of her mug and what remained in the pot down the drain, washed out both, and made a new pot.
The door to the break room opened. Jaclyn Simmons, one of the other ER nurses, walked in, chatting with Doctor Michael Reynolds, the attending doctor. Jaclyn had been her friend since Alissa had moved to Boston and began working at Mass General three years ago. Both women were in their mid-thirties, although Jaclyn was flirtatious and free spirited, which Alissa attributed to her being a redhead. Dr. Reynolds recently had joined the staff, having completed his residency six months ago at Shands Hospital in Florida before taking a position here. Tall, muscular, with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, he caused quite a sensation among the female staff.
Jaclyn stopped chatting with Reynolds long enough to watch Alissa. “We’re out of coffee already?”
“I dumped the rest. That shit could have removed the rust from my car.”
“How long will it be?” asked Reynolds.
Alissa finished pouring the pot of water into the coffee maker. “A few minutes.”
“We’ll wait.”
Alissa opened the lid. The wet filter sat inside, filled two-thirds of the way with soaked coffee grounds. She withdrew the basket and showed it to the others. “Would you look at this? Who makes coffee like that?”
Reynolds chuckled. “Someone who obviously never made it before.”
Alissa stepped over to the trash can and threw out the filter, tapping the basket against the side to dislodge any loose grounds.
As she did, Stacey, one of the student nurses, strolled in. “Hey, guys.”
The others acknowledged her.
“It sure is quiet tonight.”
“Shit!” said Reynolds.
“Damn it!” complained Jaclyn.
Alissa dropped the basket into the coffee pot and groaned.
Stacey grew embarrassed. “What did I say?”
“Didn’t they teach you anything in college?” Jaclyn asked. “You never wish someone a quiet shift.”
“Why?”
“It’s like the theater.” Alissa did not turn her head, instead measuring out five teaspoons of coffee. “You never wish someone good luck. It jinxes you. You tell them to break a leg.”
“I’m sorry.” Stacey appeared as though she might cry. “I... I didn’t know.”
The beeper attached to Reynolds’ belt went off. He slid it off, pressed the mute button, and looked at the display. “I’m needed in the ER.”
Alissa closed the lid to the coffee machine and pressed the START button. “Break a leg.”
Reynolds turned to Stacey and motioned to her. “You started this, so you’re with me.”
They rushed out of the break room, leaving Alissa and Jaclyn alone. Alissa slid into the chair beside her friend. “I hope Reynolds doesn’t rag on her too much.”
“He’ll put the kid to work and teach her a lesson.” Jaclyn leaned closer to her friend. “What do you think of him?”
“Dr. Reynolds?”
Jaclyn nodded.
“He’s a nice guy and seems competent. He’ll fit in.”
Jaclyn sighed good naturedly. “Do you think he’s attractive?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Then why don’t you hit on him?”
“Because I’m married.”
“You’re separated. You have been for almost a year.” Jaclyn lowered her voice. “I’m not asking you to marry the guy. Find an empty room and let him rock your world for an hour.”
“You’re serious about this.”
“Yes, I am.”
“I’m not….” Alissa tried to find the right words.
“Like me?”
“That’s not what I was going to say. You’re single and can see who you want.”
“Technically, so are you.” Jaclyn held up her hand and cut off her friend in mid-protest. “Yeah, I know. You and Paul are only separated. Do you really think he’s pining away for you? He’s probably banging a different girl every weekend in that mountain cabin of his.”
Alissa couldn’t argue with her friend because, deep down, she knew Jaclyn was probably correct. Before she and Paul had gotten engaged, he had played the field, sometimes dating two or three women at once. She, on the other hand, took relationships a lot more seriously, seeing only one guy at a time. Paul had never cheated on her during the years they were married, at least as far as she knew. Now that they were separated, she would be surprised if he had not been chasing everything in a skirt. Alissa, on the other hand, approached romance and sex more traditionally. Still, it had been a long time since someone’s hands other than her own had pleasured her.
“Tell you what,” said Alissa. “I’ll ask out Dr. Reynolds and see where it goes.”
“Are you going to ask him out for coffee or dinner?’
Alissa chuckled. “What difference does it make?”
“Coffee implies you want
to get to know him better. Dinner means you want to get to know him intimately.”
“Fine.” Alissa knew she would never win this debate. “I’ll ask him out to dinner.”
“Good.” Jaclyn paused a moment and then grinned. “When?”
“You’re not going to—”
Stacey burst into the break room, panting for breath. “We need you both down in the ER.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The shit hit the fan.”
Chapter Two
Alissa, Jaclyn, and Stacey rushed through the swinging double doors leading into the ER and entered total chaos. Patients occupied every room. Seven or eight stretchers lined the walls, the injured waiting for an opening. Several were strapped down, crying out in pain and thrashing about, or attacking the staff. Blood dripped from stretchers and splotched the floor. Staff had been called in from other units to deal with the crisis. A dozen police officers, including a pair of State Troopers, intermingled with the doctors and nurses, trying to keep the violent patients restrained or tend to those with the more severe wounds. A sickening stench filled the corridor, a mixture of feces, urine, sweat, blood, and decay. The noise was deafening. Doctors, nurses, police, EMTs shouted loud enough to be heard over everyone else issuing orders, yet still not enough to override the anguish of the patients.
The overwhelming sense of frustration that wracked the staff bothered Alissa most. Every medical personnel in that ER was a trained professional who had witnessed trauma running the gauntlet from car accidents to gang shootings to the wounds caused by the Boston Marathon bombers. The atmosphere was always tense yet controlled during crises situations. Not this time. Their movements were frantic. Their voices had an edge of uncertainty when they issued commands. Desperation radiated from the staff as well as the first responders, a sense that they were struggling against a medical crisis no one had ever seen before and none of whom were prepared to cope with. For the first time in her career, Alissa watched an ER border on the brink of panic.
Stacey surged ahead, shoving her way past a stretcher against the wall where a pair of EMTs in blood-stained uniforms and Madeline, one on the newer nurses, attempted to restrain a homeless man in filthy, soiled clothes. Blood covered the man’s mouth and dribbled onto his worn Army jacket. The man kicked against the wall, shoving the stretcher across the corridor and knocking Stacey against the opposite wall. The larger of the EMTs used the opportunity to push the man’s left arm against the metal rim of the stretcher. Madeline grabbed the restraints and secured them around his wrist. As she did, the man lunged, biting Madeline on her left arm. She let out an agonized yelp and attempted to pull away, but the man’s jaws were clenched too tight. Blood flowed around his yellowed, rotten teeth. The smaller EMT tried prying open the man’s jaw to no effect. The man jerked away, tearing a chunk of flesh out of Madeline’s arm. She screamed and fell against the wall, staring at the gaping wound. Madeline blanched, going into shock.
Alissa went to help but Stacey yelled to her.
“Forget them. You’re needed in here.”
The three nurses raced into the closest ER room.
A Boston Police officer lay on the hospital bed, breathing heavy. Blood spurted from a bite wound on his neck. A second officer stood at the head of the bed, leaning forward and firmly holding his partner against the mattress. Reynolds stood to one side, trying to stem the flow, a task made impossible by the injured trooper flailing about. Reynolds glanced up.
“Hold this guy down so I can save his life.” The wavering tone to his voice made Alissa uneasy.
Alissa rushed over beside Reynolds and pushed the trooper’s right arm against the mattress. Stacy and Jaclyn did the same to his left.
“What’s going on?” asked Alissa.
“The fuck if I know,” said the first officer. “We had a call an hour ago about a disturbance at a homeless encampment a mile from here. When we arrived, the place was like a war zone. Several of the assholes were biting everyone in sight. Some crazy, drugged up bag lady took a chunk out of John’s neck.”
“Where is she now?”
“Two other cops tried to take her down. I threw John in the car and brought him here.”
“What if she’s infected with something?”
“Worry about that later,” snapped Reynolds. “This guy will bleed out if I can’t cauterize the artery, and I can’t do that if he’s fighting me.”
“I’ll get some morphine.” Jaclyn released the officer’s arm and moved toward the medicine cabinet.
John howled. His body spasmed for several seconds and went limp. The blood gushing from his neck slowed to a trickle. Reynolds smashed his surgical instrument down on the suture tray.
“Fuck! We lost him.”
Stacey released her grip on John’s arm. Using her fingers, she gently slid the lids closed. Its eyes opened again, only now the orbs were milky and clouded over. It clutched the collar of Stacey’s scrubs, yanked her close, and clamped its mouth over her nose and cheek. When its jaw snapped shut, teeth scraping against bone, Stacey pulled back. A huge chunk of flesh tore off, revealing the nasal cavity and upper left jaw. Stacey wiped her left hand across the wound, jumping from the pain. When she pulled her hand away, blood soaked the fingers and palm and ran down her wrist. She screamed and fell back, bumping into Jaclyn as she filled a hypodermic with morphine.
“By careful. You almost made me stab my—” Jaclyn spun around to chastise Stacey, stopping in mid-sentence.
“He bit me.” Stacey gripped Jaclyn’s collar with both hands, leaving a bloody handprint on the scrubs. “How bad is it?”
“Not bad,” Jaclyn lied. She placed the hypodermic on the suture tray then picked up a wad of gauze from the drawer. Placing it in Stacey’s left hand, she pressed it against the wound. “Apply pressure until the bleeding stops. We’ll patch you up in a minute.”
Everyone else stared in stunned silence at the thing that used to be John as it finished chewing on Stacey’s facial tissue and swallowed. Its head jerked from side to side, seeking new prey. Upon spotting Alissa holding down its other arm, it snarled and lunged at her. Alissa knew she could not back away in time. Instead, she shoved her right forearm against the thing’s neck, pushing it back onto the stretcher, and jammed her wrist into the front of its neck, lodging her hand against the chin. Clasping her knuckles with her left hand, she kept its head immobilized. The thing snarled and spit, desperate to break free and feed. Its hands clawed at Alissa’s arms, trying to disrupt her grip. The other officer, who still stood at the head of the stretcher, leaned forward, seized the thing’s wrists, and pinned them to the surface. Alissa knew she could not restrain it for long.
Reynolds picked up the hypodermic Jaclyn had been filling. He jabbed the needle into the thing’s neck and pressed the plunger in one quick motion. The morphine had no effect.
“Try again!” Alissa yelled.
Reynolds rushed over to the medicine cabinet and refilled the hypodermic.
Alissa felt her strength weakening. “Hurry up!”
“I’m coming.” Reynolds repeated the process, his hands shaking. Once finished, he withdrew the needle and stepped back a foot.
Nothing happened. The thing thrashed about even harder.
“Up the dosage!” she ordered.
“I can’t.” Sweat formed on the doctor’s forehead and dripped down his brow.
“Why not?”
“I used the rest of the bottle. I gave him enough morphine to kill him.”
Alissa felt a surge of panic mix with the adrenaline rush. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“What?”
“He’s already dead.”
The deader rolled to its right, breaking free from Alissa’s grip, and sunk its teeth into its partner’s lower arm. The officer pulled away, dragging the deader with him and off the stretcher. Both hit the floor, knocking over the suture tray and strewing medical instruments everywhere. Scrambling onto its partner, the deader attacked the offi
cer’s neck, tearing out a chunk. The officer cupped the deader’s head and pushed it away, three fingers on his right hand sliding into its mouth. Biting down, the deader severed them above the metacarpal joints. When the trooper yanked his hand away, the deader lunged at his neck again, biting several times in the same area. An arterial spurt of blood shot out, landing across Alissa’s face.
Reynolds bent over and tried to pull the deader away. For several seconds it ignored him, concentrating instead on feeding. He wrapped his right arm around its neck, applying a choke hold to yank it away. The deader broke free and went after the doctor, dragging him to the floor. Reynolds attempted to fight it off, the futile effort ending when the deader ripped open his shirt and dug its fingers into his abdomen, puncturing the skin. The deader pulled the abdomen open, grasping a length of intestine that it unwound and shoved into its mouth, gorging on the fresh meat. Reynolds’ scream turned Alissa’s blood cold. She had never witnessed anyone in such agony before. The cries ended abruptly and his spasming body went limp. Alissa could not be certain if Reynolds had died or merely slipped into shock. Not that it mattered.
Alissa forced herself back to reality. The idea of tending to the sick had gone out the window when the dead started coming back to life. Putting them and wounded out of their misery was the best she could hope for. Moving around the stretcher, she quietly closed in on the deader, making sure not to attract attention to herself. She reached for the 9mm Glock in the deader’s holster, pausing with her hand a few inches away from the grip, afraid of what would happen if she went for it. The deader finished feeding off Reynolds and lifted its head, searching for its next meal. Alissa grabbed the Glock and pulled. It stayed in the holster.
Nurse Alissa (Book 1): Nurse Alissa vs. the Zombies Page 1