She could hear a lot of screaming on the other side of the door.
Screaming meant people.
People meant warm red candy.
Oasis jumped down off the gurney and opened the door.
Candy everywhere! On the walls, the ceiling, people covered in it, and straight ahead, two monsters were licking it off the floor by the nurses' station.
She bounded over and crouched between them, but she hadn't even touched her long, spongy tongue to the puddle when one of the monsters hissed at her and swung its claw at her face.
The blow knocked her back into the wall, and Oasis screamed, It isn't fair, you stupid dumbhead! But the words came out as a loud hiss, and now that monster was moving toward her.
She leapt away and exploded through a pair of double doors, sprinting now--faster than she'd ever run before, faster than she imagined possible--down a long corridor.
She came around a corner and skidded to a stop.
A man in pale blue scrubs stood before the closed elevator doors, pushing the UP button over and over and saying bad words.
When he noticed Oasis staring at him, he said, "Holy fucking shit," and backed away.
Oasis asked him if he would share some of his candy, but again, her words came out hissing, and the man screamed, "Get the fuck away from me, little girl!"
She was moving toward him now. He was so tall and big she figured he probably contained more red candy than most. She could smell it through his skin, and the odor made her legs crouch, and before she'd even considered it, she was jumping toward him, her claws outstretched, screaming with pure joy at the thought of sinking her pretty new teeth into the man's--
A metal trashcan connected with the side of her head and she slammed into the elevator doors.
She cry-hissed. Why was he--
The trashcan crashed into her head again.
She screamed, "Stop hurting me!"
The man hit her again.
Why was he beating her? She only wanted his--
That third blow was the hardest. Felt her skull crack open.
She blacked out and came back as the elevator doors were closing, the big candy-filled orderly gone.
All she could think about was her thirst for that candy, her head throbbing with her need for it.
She leapt to her feet.
Heard noise coming from the emergency room, and she wanted to go back, but it was full of adults.
Adults were strong and mean. They would fight her, maybe hurt or even kill her.
Her black eyes fell upon a placard between the elevators:
3rd FLOOR
Cardiovascular Services
Endoscopy Registration
The Birthplace
The words were too big for her to read except for the last line.
T-h-e B-i-r-t-h-p-l-a-c-e.
She smiled, and her huge teeth split her cheeks the rest of the way to her earlobes.
Maybe there would be babies there. Smaller, yes, not as brimming with red candy as adults, but...
How could they fight back?
Randall
AS the doors closed and the elevator began to ascend, Randall frowned.
"What's wrong?" Jenny asked.
"The elevator music. I think it's a Metallica cover."
She listened for a moment, then nodded. "I think you're right."
"When did it become okay to do that to Metallica? There's no more decency in the world."
Jenny didn't reply.
Honestly, Randall didn't care about the elevator music--he was just trying to distract himself from the fact that his feelings were hurt.
Yes, in a hospital full of flesh-eating, blood-drinking creatures, moments after being responsible for a bludgeoning death and a decapitation, Randall's feelings were hurt. So what if he couldn't spell pediatrics? He could spell most of the word, and even in a time of crisis, even after he saved her life, Jenny seemed to go out of her way to make him feel dumb.
Of course, Jenny had never made fun of him before he started drinking. He guessed that was the only way she could get back at him. Since the divorce he'd tried to smarten up. He'd read books--real books--but he had to admit that while he sort of understood them while he was reading, the words weren't staying in his brain.
But just like getting sober, he kept trying. Because he loved her.
He'd always love her.
And maybe someday--
The elevator doors opened.
Focus. Time to save the kids.
Randall held the non-running chainsaw out in front of him. He could hear screams coming from several different places, but at least there weren't any draculas in the hallway.
A dracula ran around the corner into the hallway.
"Get behind me," said Randall, though Jenny had already done that. The dracula was absolutely drenched in blood--it even dripped from his hair--and he wore a black leather jacket and a pair of jeans that you could sort of tell had once been blue. He clearly wasn't a patient or a doctor; it was probably somebody visiting a friend or relative.
The dracula rushed down the hallway toward them, mouth wide open.
The elevator doors started to close. It was hard for Randall to believe that he was in a situation where he didn't want heavy metal doors to close between him and a bloodthirsty monster, but those kids needed to be saved. He bumped the doors with his elbow and they slid back open.
The dracula extended his arms and opened its mouth even wider.
"Hold this," said Randall, handing Jenny the chainsaw. As she took it from him, he slid the hatchet out of his belt. Though he wanted to shout a battle cry and rush to meet the creature, he couldn't run on his injured leg, so he clutched the hatchet tightly in his fist and steeled himself for the creature's approach.
He let out the battle cry.
The dracula let out an animalistic screech.
Randall stepped forward and swung the axe as hard as he could. Perhaps he couldn't spell "arterial spray," but he could sure as shit make it happen. The blade of the hatchet wasn't large enough to completely sever the dracula's head, but Randall's aim and the force behind the swing were inarguably fantastic. The blade went completely through the dracula's neck, bursting out the other side, and its head flopped to the left, dangling by a small strip of meat.
The dracula was knocked off its feet, landing hard on its back.
Randall slammed his good foot onto its head, crunching through its skull. Its body twitched. He stomped it again to make the twitching stop.
"F-U-C-K Y-O-U," he spelled out.
So, the draculas had a weakness: they didn't know how to duck out of the way of a goddamn hatchet.
He glanced over at Jenny to see whether she was amused, horrified, or impressed. She was horrified. Not because of the gore, but because two more draculas--one in a hospital gown, one in a dress shirt--were running toward them.
Randall stepped forward to keep Jenny out of harm's way and out of the splash zone. He ignored the jolt of pain in his leg, let out another battle cry, and swung the hatchet so hard he thought he might have popped his shoulder out of socket. The blade slammed into the dracula's chest and smashed the creature into the one behind it. The bloody handle popped out of Randall's grasp as both draculas hit the floor.
The first dracula got up more quickly than Randall would have anticipated or hoped. It stood, blood pouring down its chest. Randall yanked a screwdriver out of his utility belt. A very small screwdriver. One designed for screws instead of skulls.
The second dracula grabbed the first dracula's foot, pulling it to the ground. It wrenched the hatchet out of the first dracula's chest wound, tossed the weapon aside, and then bit down into the bloody gash.
Randall knew that he shouldn't be standing there, staring at them in horror, but he couldn't help himself. Those bastards would drink each other's blood, too? That was messed up.
Jenny nudged him forward. "Let's go!"
As the two draculas wrestled on the ground, Randall and Jenny rushed pa
st them, with Randall quickly grabbing his hatchet on the way. There would be more draculas to chop up, that was for sure.
He winced as they ran.
"How's your leg?" Jenny asked.
"Crappy. But I'll live. Where're the kids?"
"Just around the corner."
There was a terrible scream as they rounded the corner, but Randall couldn't see the source. His leg was really, really starting to hurt. If he wasn't careful, they'd have to find the place where the hospital kept its wheelchairs.
Jenny pushed open a door marked "Pediatrics."
Randall was an optimist at heart, and he wasn't one to envision ghastly scenes of carnage. That said, he fully expected to see a giant room full of child parts, tiny arms and legs strewn everywhere, bloody, ripped-off faces sliding down the walls, and a shredded teddy bear at his feet to drive home the tragedy of it all.
Instead, the first room in the wing was filled with sobbing children, but none of them were dead or even bleeding.
"We have to get them out of here," Jenny said.
Randall shook his head. "You can't lead that many kids through this place. We need to keep them here and defend them."
"You're right, you're right, I'm not thinking straight." Jenny squeezed her eyes shut, then re-opened them. They widened as she looked at something behind Randall, in the direction from which they'd come.
He spun and caught a glimpse of a dracula, a really old fucker. The dracula disappeared from sight and Randall returned his attention to Jenny. "It's okay. He's not coming after us."
"No, I think he's the one who started this."
"What do you mean?"
"He was the first one to transform into one of those things."
Randall frowned. "So you mean he's...I dunno...the leader or something? Kill the queen and the rest die, like ants?" Randall hoped that didn't sound stupid. He didn't mean that he'd expect the rest of them to suddenly burst into dust if he killed the leader, but what if the leader was giving them signals? Was that dumb?
He stared into Jenny's eyes. He couldn't tell what she was thinking.
"I don't know," she said. "I just...I don't know."
"I'll be right back," Randall said. "I'll kill him. If it doesn't do anything...well, he should be killed anyway, before he kills somebody else. Barricade yourself and the kids in here as well as you can. Here, I'll trade you." He handed her the bloody hatchet, took back his chainsaw, and turned to go.
"Randall!"
He stopped. He'd never heard Jenny so upset before. When he turned and looked at her, she seemed close to tears.
"I need you here. Please don't leave me."
She held out her hand to him. He took it, the warmth of her touch penetrating his rough, calloused hands and working its way through his whole body.
I need you here...
Did she have any idea what those words meant to him? He felt the start of tears. He blinked them back and managed to speak around the lump in his throat.
"Okay. I'll stay."
Clayton Theel
DAMN hospital.
Clayton Theel, Jr. tossed his cell phone on the passenger seat as he pulled out of the Gulf station. He'd been filling up his Suburban--a feat that required a small business loan at current prices--and had missed Shanna's call. His return call had hit instant voicemail. She had her phone off.
Sure, he'd pick her up at the hospital. Jenny too. Not a problem. But her voice had sounded a little funny. Prolly just a woman thing. Never knew how they'd react to something.
He dug the little cube box out of his pocket. He flipped up the top and checked out the diamond sparkle. He did know how she'd react when he handed her this and asked her to marry him.
Then again, maybe he didn't know. Maybe she'd think it was too soon. They'd known each other only six weeks, true, but he had no doubt in his mind that she was the one. And he knew he was right for her. In all the schools she'd gone to, she'd probably never met a man like him. Just wimpy brainiacs and stuffy professors. She dug him almost as much as he dug her. Almost, because no one could be as crazy for anyone as he was for her.
She might say it was too soon, that he was rushing things, and maybe he was, but he wanted her to know that this wasn't any fly-by-night relationship for him, wanted her to know he was committed. He'd wait. It was only a matter of time.
All that sparkle had cost him a bundle, but nothing was too good for--
His phone rang. He snatched it up and said, "Hello, darlin'."
"Why, Clay! I didn't know you cared!"
He winced as he recognized the male voice.
"Sorry, sheriff. Thought it was--"
"Someone else?" the sheriff said, laughing. "After I gave myself to you?"
Clay laughed too, despite his discomfort. Sheriff Seward was a good guy, but this stuff wasn't all that funny.
"What's up, boss?"
"Got a situation."
Crap. He wasn't going to call him in, was he? Clay had been planning this weekend, at least the gun-show part of it, for a loooong time. And looking forward to it even more with Shanna coming along. He needed this weekend.
"What's up?"
"Got a train off the track and on its side, flat across the highway, but we're handling that."
Good, good. So far, so good.
"But I got a funny call from the hospital."
Clay's neck muscles bunched. Shanna was at the hospital.
"Funny how?"
"You know that tight-ass, his-shit-don't-stink ER doc--?"
"Lanz?"
"Yeah, him. Well, he calls with some story about being terrorized by a monster running loose in the hospital. We're all tied up here, so I was wondering--I mean, I know it's your weekend off, but--"
"I'll go take a look right now."
A pause on the other end, surprise most likely. "You will?"
"Not a problem. Can't have monsters running around Blessed Crucifixion, can we? I'll check it out and call you back."
No need to tell the sheriff he was headed there anyway.
"That's damn white of you, Clay. I won't forget this."
Clay forced a casual laugh. "Damn right, you won't. I won't let you."
The sheriff hung up laughing. Clay hit END and frowned. A monster at the hospital? What kind of crap was that? Was Lanz on drugs? Well, drugs or for-real monster, didn't matter. Shanna could be in danger.
He stomped the gas.
An ambulance sat outside the ER entrance, lights flashing, rear doors open. Clay pulled his Suburban in beside it, popped the glove compartment, and removed his Glock 23. As he stepped out, he stuck it in the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. He was out of uniform and didn't want to freak anyone by going in hot.
He didn't have to rack the slide because he always kept a round chambered. An empty chamber was worse than useless, it was just plain stupid. He'd filled its extended mag to the brim with .40 caliber, 180-grain Hydra-Shok hollow points.
Enough to stop any "monster."
As he stepped toward the two-stage entrance, he saw someone in a hospital security uniform standing with his back to the inner doors. The outer motion detector caught his approach and opened one of the doors. The guard turned and Clay froze.
His face. He was wearing some sort of Halloween mask, except Halloween was a long way off. The blood and most of the mask looked pretty damn realistic, but the teeth didn't work--too big, too many of them. Just plain unreal.
Then it opened its impossible jaws and wiggled its tongue as it hissed at him.
That was no mask.
...some story about being terrorized by a monster running loose in the hospital...
This was the monster.
It charged him, talons extended.
Clay backpedaled and pulled the Glock.
"Stop! Stop right there!"
If the thing heard him, it gave no sign. In fact it seemed to increase its speed.
Clay raised the Glock in the official two-handed grip as it burst fr
om the entrance.
"Last warning or--!"
Those claws...too close. Clay squeezed the trigger three times and put three .40-caliber Hydra-Shoks into its center of mass. The impacts spun it 180 to the left, but it stayed up--staggering, but still on its feet despite the three gaping exit wounds in its back.
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