Left Behind: The Suburban Dead

by T. A. Sorsby

  I shook my head. ‘Pill form’s generally prescribed for home use, which means going through the pharmacy. I know some patients can get IVs at home, but I’m not sure if that’d be kept in the pharmacy or in another storage area. We might get lucky, but I wouldn’t count on our luck too much.’ I shrugged.

  ‘I dunno,’ she cocked an eyebrow, ‘we’re here in belly of the beast and still alive.’

  ‘Let’s try to keep it that way. You mind staying here, guarding the door?’ Neville asked his daughter. Perhaps he was taking my advice on making her feel useful.

  She offered out the nurse’s lanyard to us, Neville taking it, then removing her spear from the door handles. ‘Knock out shave-and-a-haircut, and I’ll remove the bar.’

  ‘Why bother with it? If it’s an electronic lock you don’t really need it, do you?’ he asked.

  ‘We’re on emergency power Dad, no knowing when or what’s going to lose juice. Makes me feel better.’

  ‘Alright. Stay safe.’ He added, kissing the top of her head.

  ‘Besides, what if the Ghouls know how to use the keycard? Spooky.’ She gestured, complete with an ‘Ooooh.’

  Her first shooting lesson, her first real crisis, and her first battle with the undead - and she’d kept a level head through it all. I gave Neville a look as we stepped out into the corridor, which he returned with an uncertain, vague smile.

  ‘She could be worse.’ He muttered.

  The doors closed shut behind us, and we heard Morgan slide her spear into place. It wasn’t ominous at all.

  *

  Forty Three

  We stood there for a moment, in the middle of a long corridor, lit from above by halogen lights, the usual hospital smell of disinfectant replaced with the distant, faint odour of the dead. To either side of us were options, doors we could check, signs we could read, but for the first time since we started risking our lives, neither one of us made to move.

  ‘Feel better when we’ve killed it.’ Neville said, his voice muted.

  ‘Same.’ I agreed, keeping my voice down too. ‘It probably knows we’ve split the group.’

  ‘Smart enough to walk like it’s still alive, and if it’s been following us, it’s probably smart enough to try taking us unaware.’

  ‘No silent treatment then,’ I told him, ‘if it comes for us, we take it out, even if it means going loud.’

  He grunted the affirmative, eyes locked on one end of the corridor, as if waiting for the Ghoul to stick its head around. ‘What about the others?’

  ‘They’ve got the door, and a whole heap of guns. Unless it can crawl around in the ceiling panels, they’ll be alright. Now come on,’ I added, ‘that med storage room should be down this way.’

  Neville and I walked left. I’d read somewhere that if you ever got lost in a maze, like that was an everyday thing, that you should put a hand on the wall and walk. Takes you down all the false corridors, but eventually you have to reach the exit. We could have split up, just to check the doors along this corridor, but being more than five feet apart felt like a bad idea with Morgan’s aptly named Ghoul lurking about.

  The first door we came to from the surgical room was another of the same, which Neville buzzed open with the lanyard just to check it out, carefully opening the door a crack rather than swinging it wide. For once, caution wasn’t required - the room beyond was as empty and quiet as our own.

  ‘What did the doctors do? Pitch in to clean up before they evacuated?’ he though aloud.

  ‘You complaining at the lack of a bloodbath?’ I smirked, checking over my shoulder again. It was only the second time since we’d walked the dozen paces from our door.

  ‘At this point, finding an empty room is too much of an anti-climax…’

  ‘Here we go,’ I said, as we reached the door at the end of the corridor, a set of double doors propped open by a pair of rubber stoppers. Beyond was yet another thoroughfare, but with some seating built into the walls near a snack machine. It was at that very machine where I’d glimpsed this door, the one I suspected to contain our much needed medical supplies.

  Neville was flicking his head back and forth along the new corridor, making sure we were alone, while I tried the handle. Damn thing was locked, and it wasn’t an electronic job either, we’d need keys.

  ‘Coast is clear,’ Neville reported, ‘how’re we looking?’

  ‘Bad news. We’re either going to need to bust this door down, or find a set of keys.’ I told him.

  He didn’t say anything, but took a step or two backwards, pulling the rubber stoppers from the doors as he went. They were the sort of easy-swinging doors the doctors would have to push gurneys through, so they wouldn’t offer any actual protection from zeds, but the sound of them bursting open would at least give us a warning.

  ‘Nurse’s station back there could have keys.’ I said, staring back down the way we’d came. If the ghoul was following behind us, it’d make sense we’d cross paths with it again going that way. ‘We’d make a fair bit of noise breaking into this without them.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Neville nodded, ‘its safety glass, and I’m betting a decent lock. Door doesn’t look heavy duty though – if we’d brought a crowbar I’d try it.’

  ‘Wonder if the horde’s arrived at reception yet. If we don’t get what we need at the nurse’s station, are you willing to go all the way back to the truck?’

  ‘Crowbar means meds, meds mean our people stay alive,’ he said, ‘not thrilled at the sound of trekking back and forth all night, but if that’s what it takes, I’m not backing down. Let’s move.’

  We set off back, passing by our surgical room and returning to the Trauma waiting area. I had my Cobra in one hand, bayonet in the other, while Neville followed a couple feet behind me with the wooden bat held ready.

  Both of us strained our ears a moment, hearing a banging noise coming from…somewhere. Sounded like the floor above. Probably just a zed trapped in another room, nothing that could get us from here, but it was the last thing we needed, something else to think about.

  I was starting to sweat as I searched the drawers behind the nurse’s station, throwing folders and papers here and there, looking for a key ring, or even just a single spare.

  ‘Must have kept one around somewhere,’ I muttered as I searched, moving on to the next desk, flicking through their in-tray just in case it was hiding between forms.

  ‘Maybe they needed the spare already, in the panic,’ Neville suggested, taking his eyes from the corridors to check the window, where the rain was beating down hard now.

  ‘Anita said she escaped with a lot of the medical staff. That key could be halfway to Danecaster. But…what about one of the staff who didn’t make it?’

  ‘I see where you’re going with this. Find a medical zed, put it down and see if it had a key.’

  ‘But where to start. We can’t just go looking for one. We’ll hit more than we can handle.’

  ‘Anita,’ Neville said with certainty, ‘if they had to isolate patients, they’d have had to isolate staff too. If they were in a hurry they might have forgotten to hand their keys over.’

  Suddenly, light flashed beyond the window, brief but bright. For a split second, I’d thought it could have been a searchlight, maybe somebody trying to signal us. But then the rumble of thunder followed up, the rain picking up intensity once more.

  I made a wordless sound of irritation. ‘Like I wasn’t on edge enough.’

  ‘After what we’ve been through, you’re afraid of thunder?’ Neville asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘I’m one of those weird people who like storms. This is going to ruin them for me.’

  We went back to the surgical room, where Neville knocked his secret knock to Morgan. I heard the stick being slid back, then Neville buzzed us in with the keycard lanyard.

  ‘Back so soon?’

  ‘Pit stop,’ he told her, ‘got a question for Anita.’

  We got back in and closed the doors, shutting off the cr
eeping tension once again. Inside, the three women had donned full surgical gowns and masks, and were reapplying Damian’s sutures. He was lying on his back, sterile surgical paper towels forming a square around his wounds. Morgan must have found the CD player, as the seasonal strings had been replaced by some classic soft rock.

  ‘They found some local anaesthetic, so he’s at least numbed up a little this time. Our friend still out there?’ Morgan asked.

  I shrugged. ‘Biding its time.’

  ‘Anita,’ Neville asked, pressing down an intercom button near the surgical doors, ‘we need keys for the meds room, and can’t find any at the nurse’s station. There a doctor or nurse in an isolation room who might still have theirs?’

  She didn’t respond for a moment, and I wondered if she had to press something to talk, though that’d seem like a design fault.

  ‘Remember where we noticed we were being followed?’ her voice crackled, sounding further away than just the other side of the glass. ‘I’m pretty sure some staff put themselves in there, one or two. Not sure what room though Nev. Can’t you bust the door down?’

  ‘Prefer not to, too much noise. We’ll check those rooms, save that as a last resort.’

  ‘Once more, into the breach.’ Morgan said.

  Back out there, we retraced our steps, through the waiting room and into the warren of corridors, following the signs for the reception this time, knowing we’d hit those diagnostic rooms first. At every corner we came to, one of us would lean around before we went ahead, and it’s a good job too. I snapped my head back, before I’d been spotted.

  ‘It just walked by the end of the corridor again.’ I muttered to Neville. ‘Think it’s staying between us and the exit.’

  ‘Aren’t we giving it too much credit?’ he asked in the same low tone.

  I shrugged one shoulder. ‘We’ve seen what it can do. It’s faster and smarter than anything else out there. Why not?’

  ‘It’ll take one of us to keep an eye out for it while the other searches for the keys. Or we can attack it straight off.’

  ‘I’d feel more comfortable with it gone. I’ll play bait, you wait for your moment. Shoot if you need to, but if we can do this without...’ I added, stowing my piece.

  Neville didn’t look too happy about that, but kept his hands firmly on his borrowed bat as I walked into the diagnostics area, following a safe distance behind me. I dragged a gurney across my front with one hand, pushing it down the corridor so I had something between me and the inevitable surprise attack.

  Up ahead, we heard a noise, like somebody knocking something over, but I had no idea what. Could have been the rumble of distant thunder for all we knew.

  ‘Don’t like this.’ Neville said, my thoughts exactly.

  We walked by the rooms, their occupants beating fists down on doors or windows, nearing the end of the corridor. It was like that part in a horror movie where you know the jump-scare is coming, but you just don’t know when.

  So I took the initiative, decided I’d surprise the monster, not the other way around. As I came into range, I shoved the gurney left at the end of the corridor, and moved for the right, ready to grapple – but nothing was waiting for me.

  Figuring the attack would then come from behind, I turned to see the gurney knock into the wall with a soft bump. If it had come for my back, it’d have at least banged into it, but I needn’t have worried. The ghoul had other ideas.

  Above the gurney, one of the ceiling tiles was missing, tiny motes of dust still drifting down. It’d shoved the tile up and climbed into the crawlspace. No small task with a ceiling height of maybe eight feet.

  ‘Shit,’ I spat, ‘it’s in the ceiling.’

  The words had barely left my mouth before there was an almighty crash, as it kicked its way down through the suspended ceiling in a shower of dust and gypsum – landing right on top of Neville.

  My backup wasn’t going to be taken for a fool though. Rather than being knocked to the ground with the ghoul on top, he managed to stumble to the side, bouncing off a blood-streaked window with the ghoul taking much of the impact, but it’d wrapped an arm around his neck, holding on tight.

  I moved to assist, but the ghoul pulled Neville this way and that, as if it knew staying still would let me line up a strike with my bayonet. Neville certainly did. Rather than prolong the struggle, his face already turning red, he threw himself to the ground, where the ghoul would have made an easy target, lying atop him.

  The damn thing was too smart though. Before I had a chance to strike, it was backing off him, crawling backwards with more speed than the human body should have been able to manage. I hauled Neville to his feet with one hand, and pointed my blade towards it with the other, threatening.

  It just sat on its haunches, slit-neck twisting about as it craned to look at us from different angles, sizing us up. A low, burbling growl filled the corridor, sounding not unlike a lion, or possibly even an outboard motor.

  Neville recovered the bat and we spaced ourselves out across the corridor, giving us both room to manoeuvre if it pounced at us again. Damn thing didn’t – just tilted its head back to scream, turning that rumbling purr into an ear-splitting shriek. Neville rushed forward with the bat, trying to cut it off, but it scampered away from his swing, twisting and bounding away, back into the corridors between us and the rest of our people.

  ‘Scared, huh?’ he called after it, his voice shaking slightly.

  ‘I know I am.’ I told him, checking behind us. ‘If it called any zeds to reception, they’ll be on us in a minute. We need to move fast, no point doing this quietly now. I’ll watch, you shoot.’

  Neville nodded agreement, taking out his pistol and wasting no time. He turned to the closest diagnostic room, and kicked the door, using what I can only assume is some kind of approved technique, since it only took two boots to burst open.

  He moved in, and I heard the moan of the occupant followed by the sound of it being knocked over, taking a vase or something with it. Neville didn’t waste a shot though, emerging a moment later after the now all too familiar sound of a crunching skull.

  No luck in that room, he moved on to the next, barely breaking stride as he got to vent his frustrations out on another flimsy door. I let him to it, trusting him to get the job done, while I went to check for zeds coming up from reception.

  A runner was just rounding the corner as I did. It spotted me from the other end of the corridor, and made straight for me. I dragged that gurney back with me as I withdrew back into the diagnostics area, giving the runner something to tangle with before it got to me.

  The runners don’t have the agility of the ghouls. It came around the corner, arms flailing, and crashed into the gurney. The ghoul would probably have done some kind of kung-fu flip, but the runner went face-first onto the floor, where my bayonet found an easy target in the back of its head.

  A gunshot brought my attention back towards Neville, who was emerging from one of the rooms with a ring of keys in his hand.

  ‘Let’s go!’ he called out.

  We ran for the exit, and now we were familiar with the route back, we made it to the nurse’s station near our surgical room without issue. The Ghoul must have thought better of tangling with us again so soon, but every rumble of thunder, I felt sure would be that damn thing bursting through the ceiling.

  *

  Forty Four

  There wasn’t much we could do to block it from above, but the Ghoul, if only with that scream, seemed able to direct the attention of the zombies. If it knew where we were, it seemed likely that it’d drag the horde towards us. So we set about rearranging the furniture from the waiting area into a makeshift barricade at the mouth of the surgical corridor.

  With a sofa dragged lengthways, we wedged it in with chairs pointed back-down, resting on the arms, then piled the rest of the chairs on and finally stuck the coffee table on top for good measure. It was hardly the Aelium Wall, but it didn’t have to hold for a hundred years. Just
long enough.

  ‘Want me to stay out here and keep watch?’ Neville asked.

  ‘Hells no. Let’s get that cupboard open and get back inside.’

  It took him a moment to find the right key. I checked the other end of the corridor, where we’d closed the doors, for approaching zeds. Fortunately, we were alone. For now.

  Lights in the room flickered to life automatically as we entered, leaving the door open just a crack behind us. Along one wall were wire baskets and plastic tubs of varying colours, everything from medical dressings to epi-pens were individually wrapped in clear vacuum packing, some of the baskets near to overflowing, but others almost empty, with scattered stock littering the floor beneath.

  ‘Looks like they managed to get some supplies out with them,’ Neville observed, making straight for the tubs, scanning quickly over them. ‘Hopefully not everything we need.’

  Along the back wall were refrigerators, and since everything was clearly labelled I had no problem finding IV bags, but hadn’t brought anything to carry them in. I looked around, and saw a little kit bag with a big red cross on it. I knew these things usually had a defibrillator in them, but guessed that wouldn’t do us a whole lot of good – whereas the bag, we could use.

  I piled the contents out on the floor, then Neville began loading in the meds while I held the bag open. He’d also thrown in a few IV-starting kits, and by some miracle had even found tetracycline pills by the box full. The taxpayer value of what we were looting from this room was probably immense.

  ‘Think we’ve got enough?’ I asked, taking a wheelchair from a rail by the door, an improvement on Damian’s current mode of transport.

  ‘Kelly, I think we’ve got enough for everyone to get shot.’ He said, looking about the room. ‘This place is a treasure horde – the stuff in here’s going to be in pretty high demand soon, if it isn’t already.’

  ‘We can’t exactly take it all with us, and these IVs must have been in the fridge for a reason, we can’t store it all. But keep the keys. Maybe just knowing this is here will be worth something, in case the CDC’s people want to come for a resupply.’