Lenore crossed herself and Ken gulped.
Bill motioned to everyone to crawl along the floor. Ken and Lenore began to crawl with Dale and Linda right behind them. They were heading to the doors on the opposite side of the room and not the stairway. Hopefully, they could stay out of sight until reaching the doors on the far end.
Jenni tried to hold her breath and crawl past the chained doors without gagging. Roger, Felix, and Bill moved right behind her. The stench was so bad she found it hard not to gag. Keeping close to the waiting room chairs, she crawled up to the stairwell and looked up. It appeared clear.
Across the room, the others were relieved to see the doors to the patient rooms were not chained. After a wordless debate, it was Lenore who finally stood up and took a peek into that hallway, trying to do it fast so as not to rile the zombies across the room behind the doors to the emergency room.
Jenni watched Lenore motion that it was clear, and then the other team slipped out of sight. Bill moved up beside Jenni and squeezed her arm gently. She smiled back at him and tried to steady her nerves.
“We do this and go,” he said softly.
She nodded silently.
They climbed the stairs.
2. Death’s Doorway
Ken was relieved that it was relatively easy going once they were in the patient ward. Every room they passed appeared empty. Ken suspected whoever had evacuated the hospital had locked up all the infected in the emergency room. Per orders, they opened no doors that were not marked on Charlotte’s maps.
“Don’t hear them,” Lenore whispered. “It’s all quiet here. I bet they’re all stuffed in the emergency room.”
“And they can stay there,” Ken answered. He made a face as they passed a decomposing corpse surrounded by dried blood and brains. “They were shooting everyone in the head.”
“Smart move,” Dale said in a low voice. “But they must have decided not to waste anymore ammo and just got out.” Lenore gingerly pushed an empty stretcher out of her way.
“Okay, we get what we need and get back to save Juan.” Linda blew her dark bangs out of her eyes and passed out the lists. “Just what is on the list. No more.”
Collecting items, Linda, Lenore and Ken began to strike off entries on their “grocery” list while Dale knocked out a window at the end of the hall and began to lower equipment onto the lawn. It seemed like a good idea considering the danger in the reception area. There were probably enough zombies to break through the chained doors if they were provoked. Moving quickly, the team did their job, being careful with every move. Lenore warily avoided closed doors and grabbed up everything she could in a tote bag. Ken wheeled equipment down the hall to the window to Dale, sashaying as prettily as he could. Dale didn’t notice.
Finally, Linda slid out the window and ran to bring the big moving truck up to the window, her gun in her hand as she moved. Ken thought she was hot for a girl, but his eyes kept straying to Dale. He was a big hunk of a man, just like Ken liked them. He had tried to catch the big man’s eye a few times, but had failed so far. It was getting truly annoying that no one was out of the closet in the fort, aside from him. Ten percent of an average population was supposed to be gay. There had to be at least one more of his kind and he was hoping for a nice hunky man.
“Stop staring,” Lenore chided him.
Ken waved a hand at her and rolled the heart monitor down to the window. Dale nodded, picked it up, and lowered it outside. “Thanks,” Ken said with smile.
Dale barely looked at him.
With a sigh, Ken moved down the hallway and checked his map. There was supposed to be a supply room at the end of a short hallway that branched off from the main corridor. Charlotte had provided a list of medications she wanted from the room.
Edging toward the end of the hallway, he looked down the shorter hall and saw two more sets of double doors. The emergency lights made the windows in them glow an eerie red.
“Cover me,” Ken ordered Lenore.
Holding his spear firmly in one hand and his map in the other, he moved down the hallway, keeping close to the wall. The door to the supply room was near the very end. Beyond the double doors was another hallway to...
He unfolded the map just as he reached the double doors.
...the emergency room.
Heart pounding, he looked up into the face of a zombie snarling on the other side of the glass. Ken’s gaze swept down length of the doors. They were unchained.
The door burst open so hard that when it hit him, he was slammed into the wall. Falling sideways, he lost his spear. Ken was trapped, wedged into the tiny area between the door and the wall. He was in a perfect little triangle of hell. Ken felt tears spring into his eyes as he cowered in the tiny sliver of space. The zombies were snarling at him through the window as they pushed hard against the door, pressing him into the corner. His body barely fit into the space and the pressure was beginning to cut off his breathing.
He heard Lenore screaming and he cried out in fear. The twisted dead zombie faces pressed hard against the glass, teeth champing hard together. Blood and spittle smeared the slowly cracking glass. Trembling violently, he felt his body being pinched as the space behind the door grew smaller.
He was going to die.
The first gunshot made him jump. The volley made him hopeful. The distorted gruesome zombie faces turned away toward the shooters. With loud moans, they began to shamble down the hall. Finally, Ken managed to get a breath as the undead staggered away from the door.
At the last moment, he realized the door would swing closed now that the zombies were not holding it. He would be exposed. Grabbing the door firmly with his fingers, he held it in place the best he could. More zombies staggered past him, moving toward those shooting. His sweat slicked fingers slipped on the handle. One zombie noticed him through the smeared glass and reached out. It was an old man, his face eaten away on one side and his throat shredded into dried strips of flesh. Instead of pushing the door toward Ken, he began to try to pull it away.
“No, no, no,” Ken whispered, struggling to hold on. His adrenaline rush had left him now and he felt weak as a babe.
The zombie persisted, its slow movements agonizingly terrifying. Ken could hear its bones cracking and its muscles tearing with the exertion, but it didn’t feel pain. It gripped the side of the door firmly and began to pull it outward. Ken tried to hold onto the door, but his fingers were so wet, they slipped free. Falling back into the corner, Ken screamed as the zombie reached down for him.
“Die, fucker,” Lenore said in her low voice from behind the zombie.
The zombie lurched forward and fell onto Ken. Ken began to scream in terror, then realized it was dead. A bolt had shattered the back of its head. The rotting brains slid out in a slimy pile as he shoved the creature off him and struggled to get up.