by T. L. Frost
Zombies Zombies Zombies
Part 7
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THE HOSPITAL
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By T.L. Frost
The Hospital
Carter was a firm believer in looking after number one. He was a survivor even before hordes of cannibal freaks had swept across the country. Raised in a tough inner city housing estate he had been fighting all of his life, eventually taking his only talent and turning it into a successful business. People had paid him a lot of money to protect them. Looking after his own ass was still his number one priority, number two was his men, number three the client. After he had put bullets in the heads of the last of his men and his last client, he was back to number one. So he had surprised the hell out of himself when he had risked his own life for an almost complete stranger. But hey, he thought, shit happens.
Chapter 1
Carter lifted his head from the uncomfortable pillow. It hurt, a lot. Reaching up with his hand he felt bandages there. He was wearing only his boxer shorts, his clothes nowhere to be seen. Looking around the room, he took everything in with a glance. Not much there, the bed, a blank TV, a bedside cabinet with a bottle of water and an IV stand. Sitting up, his head spun, nausea sweeping through him. When it passed he pulled out the IV needle in his arm and drank from the water bottle, then tried to stand. His head spun again, more nausea which he fought off, gritting his teeth and breathing shallowly.
“You shouldn’t be up yet!” Came a concerned female voice “You’ve suffered a blow to the head, maybe broken ribs.”
The woman who had just entered the room was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, she was blonde, hair tied back in a ponytail. Carter let her push him back onto the bed, not that he had the strength to resist. The woman covered him again in the thin bed sheet.
“I’ll bring the doctor.” She said before hurrying off.
Carter watched her go then checked his ribs, they ached but he didn’t think any were broken. Resting his head back he thought about the crash, his memory a little blurry but it was coming back quickly. Images flashed through his mind, blood, fear, biting, clawed hands reaching for him. He shut it all out and drifted back to sleep.
“Mr Carter?” Came another voice, intruding on the comfortable blackness “Mr Carter?” a hand touching his arm.
Carter tensed, rising to consciousness in a rush, eyes snapping open and looking around. It was later in the day, possibly the same day, it was hard to tell. A man in a white doctor’s coat stood next to the hospital bed. Carter looked at him, then at the hand on his arm. The man quickly removed it.
“I’m Doctor Matthews.” He said, regaining his composure “I believe you have met Sally.”
The woman from earlier stood next to Matthews, still with the ponytail, still in the same jeans and t-shirt.
“You’re not a nurse.” Said Carter.
“No.” Replied Sally, her cheeks flushing slightly, a small smile on her lips that got Carter’s interest.
“Do you remember anything about what happened Mr Carter?” Asked Matthews as he shone a small light into each of Carter’s eyes, checking the reaction.
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He had been in a car crash. Carter worked in personal security, protecting the rich and famous. He had been with a team of three other men, round the clock protection for some wealthy oil executive working on a deal worth tens, maybe hundreds of millions. Carter and his team had been hired to chauffeur the guy around and protect him but Carter thought it was a bullshit job. The government hiring them to boost the executive’s ego, make him feel important. He had been a real asshole but the money was good so Carter had taken the job. Easy money, or it had been at first. Two of his men got sick quickly so Carter had to send them home, then the VIP had caught it, whatever it was, some sort of flu maybe. They had checked into their hotel. VIP in his room, the other guard, Peterson, in the hallway outside, Carter in the room opposite resting and watching the news. Things went from bad to really bad in no time. Reports of people dying, lots of people. The hotel and even the city had taken on an eerie feel. The sick staying in their rooms, none of the usual hustle and energy of a big place. Staffing at a bare minimum, service almost non-existent. Carter had ordered food and bottled water when he eventually got a reply from the hotel’s reception. The guy delivering it looked like he would collapse at any minute, Carter gave him a big tip. The view from the room’s window looked over one of the busiest parts of the city, usually full of tourists, shoppers and taxis, all nearly always on the move, somewhere to go, something urgent to do. Now it was quiet, a bright midweek day and it should have been crowded. It was like the city was holding its breath.
Carter felt an itch in his scalp, the kind of feeling he got when trouble was about to step up and piss all over his day. He paused, nothing was happening, maybe he was wrong, but he felt that itch again, something not right and he always trusted his instincts. Moving to the room’s safe, he typed in the code and took out a briefcase, opening it. Inside were two automatic pistols and clips of ammunition. He never expected to need the briefcase on a bullshit job like this but he always preferred to be ready for anything. He paused again, listening, all was quiet, that itch again. Loading the guns and fastening a shoulder holster in place, he put on his jacket and went out to the hallway.
“Anything?” He asked.
“Nothing.” Said Peterson “Quiet as a grave.”
“Put this on.” Said Carter handing the other pistol over to him.
Peterson looked at him “Expecting trouble?” He said as he took it.
“Just a feeling.” Replied Carter.
Peterson nodded and clipped the pistol in place on his belt. He had come to trust his boss’s instincts and accepted it without another word. Carter went back to their room to check the news again, nothing good. People dying, emergency services overwhelmed, people warned to stay at home until order was restored as violent outbursts were reported all over the city. That feeling again, an itch he couldn’t scratch. He checked the view outside again. Still quiet. A couple of people ran past, quickly disappearing down a side street. A police car thundered down the main road, siren and lights vanishing into the distance.
“Anything?” He said, sticking his head out of the hotel room’s door.
Peterson shook his head “Nothing. Haven’t seen any staff or other guests for a while now. Only other person I’ve seen has been the client complaining about being ill.”
“Tell him I’ll try reception again. Get them to call for a doctor of something.”
Peterson nodded and was about to add something when the quiet ping of the elevator announced its arrival. Both men turned, both on edge and not knowing why. Instinct, thought Carter, it had served him well so far and he wasn’t about to ignore it now. His hand reached into his jacket, unclipping the pistol.
“What the fuck?!” Said Peterson as the elevator doors opened.
Three people were in it, crouched over a fourth. Their heads raised and turned at the sound of Peterson’s voice. Carter’s pistol was coming out as they leapt up and ran. The first screamed, terrifying and loud in the narrow corridor, a large chunk of flesh falling from its mouth. All three were drenched in blood, their faces and arms dripping with it. Grey, staring eyes fixed on Peterson as he took a step back, fumbling for his weapon. Carter fired, a warning shot into the ceiling. The three running figures didn’t even slow and his next shot was into the leg of the first one. It spun, off balance, as it toppled forward, crashing into the floor. The second was almost on top of Peterson, leaping the last few feet, arms outstretched, teeth bared. Peterson’s pistol came up just as it hit him, both of them tumbling back, the a
ttacker on top. Shots rang out as Peterson fired again and again, blood spraying from the exit wounds. Carter aimed and fired, two shots to the chest of the third person, sending them staggering back. Screaming in hatred they stepped forward again heading for Carter this time. He raised his pistol for a third shot to the head and the attacker dropped like a stone. Swinging and aiming again at the first attacker as they tried to rise, wounds ignored, Carter saw only madness in its soulless eyes just before he fired, another head shot. The remaining attacker was on top of Peterson, his empty gun dropped to the floor as he struggled and tried to fight it off. Teeth snapped at Peterson’s face. They were close, too close for Carter to risk a shot. He stepped forward quickly, his leg swinging, and kicked the attacker squarely on the side of the head with his steel toe-capped boot, its skull caved in from the blow with a sickening crunch. Peterson pushed the limp body away and rolled to his feet, picking up his weapon and reloading quickly.
“What the fuck is happening?!” He asked as he fought off the shock of the attack.
“No idea.” Replied Carter, checking his own pistol “Grab your stuff, I’ll get the client and then we’re getting the hell out of here.”
Peterson nodded and headed to their room as Carter used an extra key-card to enter the client’s room. He was on his bed and as Carter entered, he sat up, grey staring eyes fixing on Carter as his lips pulled back in a snarl of hatred. Carter fired once more and the VIP lay down again, a small neat hole between his eyes, the back of his head all over the wall next to the bed.
“Where’s the client?” Asked Peterson as he came out of their room.
“Dead.” Said Carter reloading his weapon and pointing to the three bodies in the corridor “Same as these.”
Peterson nodded and they headed for the elevator. There was still a body in there, its guts ripped out and trailing all over the elevator’s floor. Large pieces of flesh had been bitten from its neck and limbs, blood covered the small space, splashed all over the walls, a large pool of it around the body, dripping over the edge through a small gap to fall down the elevator shaft.
“Poor bastard.” Said Peterson.
The body moved, sitting up quickly and both men stepped back, drawing their weapons. The zombie reached out and fell forward, using its arms it began pulling itself along, legs and guts dragging behind it. Peterson looked at Carter and he signalled them back a few more steps.
“Wait until it’s out of the elevator.” He said.
A bloody trail spread along the corridor as the zombie pulled itself towards the two men, mouth snapping at them. Peterson looked at Carter again, this time receiving a nod. Aiming carefully, he pulled the trigger, the bullet smashing through the zombie’s neck, down through its lungs and hitting the heart, tearing it to pieces. The creature paused a second then continued crawling.
“Fuck!” Said Peterson in disbelief.
“Shoot it in the head.” Said Carter “That seems to work.”
Peterson fired again, punching a hole into the top of the zombie’s head. It dropped, unmoving, more blood pouring from its mouth. Both men stepped carefully around the body and into the elevator. Carter hit the button marked ‘Garage’ and the elevator headed down to the basement, quiet music playing in the background.
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“Mr Carter?” Came Matthews voice again “Do you remember how you came to be here?”
Carter looked at him, he had a really annoying manner, must have been some big shot doctor before the shit hit the fan.
“No.” Said Carter “Not much.”
“Well no signs of serious concussion so it will probably all come back to you after some rest.” Said Matthews “I’ll send one of the others with some food, you rest for now.”
“I’ll get it.” Said Sally.
“Oh I think one of the others could…”Began Matthews, looking from Sally to Carter.
“That’s very kind of you Sally.” Said Carter with his most winning smile.
Her cheeks turned a little rosy again. Damn she’s cute, thought Carter.
“I’ll need a hand checking over stocks of medicine straight after.” Said Matthews, turning and leaving without another word.
What an asshole, thought Carter as he watched the doctor leave.
“There’s just stew I’m afraid, all out of tins.” Said Sally as she brought the food.
“I don’t mind.” He said “Was never much of a cook anyway.”
“I cooked a lot… before.” Said Sally “Had a job in a small restaurant, nothing fancy but I enjoyed it.”
Carter ate and listened. A lot of things were different now.
“Maybe you could cook for me sometime.” He said. “I think I’d like that.”
“Me too.” Said Sally taking his empty bowl “I better go help the doc with his inventory. I’ll pop in later and see if you need anything if you like?”
“I’d like that very much Sally.” Said Carter, watching her leave.
Chapter 2
A day later and Carter was restless. Checking his ribs again they were sore but ok. He unwound the tight bandages, taking a deep breath. His ribs protested but he could handle a little pain. The bruising down one side was already discolouring, turning a fainter shade. Reaching up and checking the bandages on his head, he started taking them off too.
“Mr Carter!” Came Matthews’ voice as he entered the room “What are you doing? They need to stay on at least another day.”
Carter looked at him, his gaze steady, and continued taking the bandages off.
“Let me help.” Said Sally, who had also entered the room.
The fresh air felt good and Carter touched the wound, feeling the stitches there.
“We don’t have many resources here you know, if that becomes infected, I’m not sure we could spare any antibiotics…” Said Doctor Matthews with a barely concealed sneer.
Carter stood slowly, pushing himself up from the bed, his vision blurred slightly and his legs felt a little weak, but he didn’t show any signs of it. He stood a head taller than the doctor and, though he had lost weight over the last few weeks, he was still a big guy. Matthews took a small step back as Carter stared at him.
“I’ll be fine.” He said, turning to Sally “Thanks for the help.”
“You’re welcome.” She replied “There’s more stew if you feel up to visiting the kitchen?”
“Sounds good.” Said Carter “Maybe I should find my clothes first though.”
Sally blushed a little and smiled “I cleaned them for you, I’ll go get them.”
Not long after Sally returned with his almost clean clothes, a few blood stains still visible. Carter put them on, noticing the stun gun he had been carrying was still in the pocket. The kitchen was small, like the rest of the hospital. A semi-rural doctor’s surgery and emergency clinic all rolled into one, just big enough to have its own transport on standby. The wing with the hospital beds was next to the private room Carter had been in, the doors to that wing were locked.
“They started keeping the really sick ones in there.” Said Sally as they passed “Though most were evacuated to the nearest emergency centre. The transport stopped coming and the sick we had left were crowded into that wing.” The doors rattled, moans coming from the other side.
There were two other people in the kitchen, Rob, a local who had made it to the hospital about a week ago and Carl, an orderly, dull and surly.
“Nice to see you up and about.” Said Rob cheerfully.
Carter nodded a greeting as he helped himself to a large bowl full of the stew. Carl said nothing, just giving the newcomer an uninterested glance. After days in bed, some conscious, some not, the stew tasted great and Carter filled his bowl again as his appetite returned.
“There’s only a little of that food left.” Came the nasal voice of Matthews “We have to make it last.”
Carl sneered, turning his attention back to his own food as Carter stared at him.
“Last until when?” Asked Carter.
“Until this sickness passes.” Replied Matthews impatiently “All pandemics die out eventually, then we can begin to reorganise…”
“Die out?” Asked Carter incredulously “Everybody out there is already dead, that’s the problem.”
“I’d hardly expect someone like you to understand Mr Carter.” Said Matthews condescendingly “It’s a medical issue and that’s my area of expertise.”
“Someone like me?” Said Carter coldly, his eyes fixed on Matthews.
“Yes well…” Said Matthews “I meant someone who isn’t a doctor, of course.”
“I know exactly what you meant.” Replied Carter “I’ll tell you what I’m an expert at though. Surviving. I’ve been doing it all my life and when this ‘pandemic’ appeared I had to use all of my expertise just to stay alive. I haven’t been hidden away, safe in some hospital, hoarding supplies, waiting for it to pass. I’ve been out there.”
“You weren’t doing so great when we found you after that car crash.” Sniggered Carl.
Carter turned his head to look at him, his calm, intense eyes watching until Carl’s looked away.
“You say one more word to me, asshole, and I will make sure you look like you’ve been hit by a fucking train.” Said Carter.
Carl looked back down at his almost empty bowl, stirring the last drops. Carter turned his gaze back to Matthews.
“Whatever food you have hidden away here will run out eventually. Then you will get hungry and you’ll need to go out there.” He said “When that happens I give you a couple of days at most. You’ll probably not even last one.”
Matthews’ mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was trying out replies. The look on Carter’s face persuaded him not to. Instead he turned and left.
“There will be some tough decisions to be made when that time comes.” Said Rob “There really isn’t much left.”
Carl looked at him and sneered, then stood and left too.
“Every decision is a tough one these days.” Said Carter “Every one could mean life or death.”
