Drug

by O'Rourke, Lynda

  A cream curtain had been pulled across the ward blocking my view of the guys.

  “It’s for privacy.” Doctor Wright had frowned at us.

  I couldn’t hear any noise coming from that end of the ward so I assumed they had all fallen asleep. The lights had been dimmed, not that it did anything to stop the flickering flashes every few minutes. I sat up. The tube sticking in my arm was stinging. I wanted to scratch the hell out of it. It looked sore and felt sticky. Maybe I could look for Nurse Jones. She might be able to put something on it?

  I took hold of the metal drip stand. This thing was becoming a real bind, dragging it everywhere with me. I would be glad to see the back of it. I moved slowly toward the doors. The wheels on my drip squeaked. Stepping out into the corridor, a chill draught touched my skin. I shivered. There was no one around. My eyes fell upon the padlocked doors of Ward 1.

  There’s something dark and evil in there… Raven’s earlier freak-out played on my mind.

  I touched the door. Nothing! Shaking my head, I continued to move slowly up the corridor. I reached the bend. Poking my head around the corner, I could see the door which led back into the modern part of the building. There was no point going up there. I would need some kind of security card to activate the door. That only left me with the cupboard I had seen earlier, and I was pretty sure that Nurse Jones wouldn’t be sitting in there.

  I headed back toward the ward. It was freezing. I kept getting that feeling of being watched – hidden eyes burning through my skin. I sped up a bit – the wheels on my drip squeaking faster. The urge to check over my shoulder was too much to ignore. I turned, half expecting to see someone coming at me with a knife, but the corridor was empty. Get a grip, Kassidy. You’ve been listening to Raven too much. I took a few deep breaths, my heart calming. I reached for the doors. A hand gripped me by the wrist pulling me round.

  I gasped. “Get off of m…” It was Doctor Fletcher. He pulled me toward him.

  “What are you doing out here?” he whispered, his grip loosening. “You should be in bed asleep.”

  “I was looking for Nurse Jones, my arm hurts,” I said, trying to pull free of his grip. “Where did you come from? You weren’t behind me when I checked only seconds ago.”

  “Show me,” he said, ignoring my question. “I thought I’d told you to only tell me if there was something wrong.”

  “It’s just sore, no big deal,” I said. “Surely Nurse Jones can fix me up with some cream – or does she need to be a doctor to do that?”

  Blanking me again, he held my arm up. There seemed to be a glimmer of concern showing in his eyes. He put his hand over my forehead.

  “You feel a bit hot,” he said. “Let’s get you back to bed and then I’ll get you something for your arm.”

  “I can manage,” I said, releasing his hand away from around my waist. I wasn’t gonna let him touch me up again and then speak to me like I was a child.

  I stormed through the doors to Ward 2. Who did he think he was? This wasn’t freaking school.

  “Kassidy, stop making so much noise, you’ll wake everyone up,” he said, stopping me dead in my tracks.

  “Do you get some kind of kick in telling me what to do? I’m nineteen not thirteen,” I hissed. “How old are you, twenty-five? Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you get to order me about.”

  Doctor Fletcher’s lips curled up slightly at my outburst.

  “Twenty-six, Kassidy,” he smiled. “And while I’m your doctor you will do as I say. It’s for your own good. Now, while I go and get some cream, how about you get into bed, and calm down.”

  “Whatever,” I said.

  I pulled the blanket back and climbed in. When I looked up, Doctor Fletcher had gone. Where had he come from earlier in the corridor? He couldn’t have come through the door leading from the main building. I would have heard him. Maybe he was in the cupboard with Nurse Jones – now that wouldn’t surprise me.

  I lay back on my pillow, eyelids feeling droopy. The silence was back again and swallowed me up as I fell asleep.

  Voices drifted through the ward. My eyelids refused to open any further than a fraction. My brain refused to kick-start into first gear. Someone seemed pretty rattled out in the corridor.

  “The trial should end. It will only finish like all the other ones.”

  It was Doctor Fletcher. A small spark of brain activity told me so. I continued to lay still – too tired to even shut my mouth which hung open. A wet patch of dribble had stuck the pillowcase to my cheek.

  “We will continue. None of the volunteers are showing any bad reactions to the drug. A few have had a rise in temperature, that’s all.”

  “That is exactly what happened last time,” said Doctor Fletcher. “Who knows what they will be like in an hour’s time.”

  “We will deal with them like we did the others if the situation arises. This is the closest we have got, why throw it all away now?” said Doctor Middleton.

  “Maybe Doctor Fletcher is right. How many more times can we get away with doing this before someone comes looking?” said Doctor Wright.

  “We have dealt with people sticking their noises in before, remember?” said Doctor Middleton.

  I wanted to sit up, but my body refused. Was I just tired or was I feeling ill? The voices in the corridor faded away into a distant murmur until silence wrapped itself around me. My eyelids fell shut again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I sat up. A noise had disturbed me. I was disorientated. Hot and sweaty. The rain still hit the windows in stormy gusts. Wind howled through the building – the walls shuddered from its strength.

  My eyes moved slowly across the ward. Had I been dreaming? The state of my blanket said nightmare. It hung half off the bed, pillow flung across the ward. My arm hurt, the crook of my elbow black. That was one hell of a bruise.

  The noise came again. I jumped. My heart quickened.

  Silence.

  I looked at the nearly deflated bag of VA20 still dripping its dark contents down the tube. This was one drug I would be staying well and truly clear of when it got to the open market.

  A moan came from the end of the ward. My rational side tried to convince me it was just one of the guys having a nightmare or maybe they were feeling ill.

  It came again. Retching and moaning. May and Carly sat up.

  “What the freaking hell is that?” whispered Carly, her eyes wide.

  May pulled her blanket up tight around her throat – knees up against her chest.

  “I’m not sure but it’s scaring the shit out of me,” I murmured. “Do you think we should go and check? I mean, it sounds like someone is really ill.”

  We looked at each other. Fear spread across our faces.

  “I’m not going through there,” whispered May, shaking her head.

  “Me neither,” muttered Carly. “That doesn’t sound human.”

  I slipped off the bed, tiptoeing toward the curtain, trying to keep my drip from squeaking. Fear raced through my body in contractions. My hand shook as I lifted my arm, reaching out for the curtain. I gasped in air as I pinched the fabric between my thumb and forefinger.

  “Don’t do it,” hissed May, her blanket now just below her eyes.

  I hesitated, my arm stretching out toward the curtain then dropping back down. The sudden sound of wheels squeaking from the other side of the curtain froze my blood. Someone was on the move.

  I took a step back. Carly had left her bed and was now cowering behind me – I nearly fell over her. The sound of gagging got louder. Another groan and then wet splatters peppering the floor tiles.

  Silence.

  “Someone’s been sick that’s all,” I said, stepping forwards and snatching at the curtain.

  A shadow moved behind the fabric. A high-pitched wail flooded the ward. Something hit the curtain. A trail of wet, red stuff, slipped down the material, falling to the floor. I looked down. A lump of bloodied flesh lay in a pool of red liquid. Another moan seeped t
hrough the fabric. Blood sprayed the curtain like rain falling on canvas.

  Raven started screaming. She clambered off her bed bringing her drip crashing down. The radio we had listened to earlier came spinning out at speed from beneath the curtain hitting Wendy’s bed and turning on. Sweet Dreams by The Eurythmics blasted through the ward. The room erupted into sheer panic. I could hear Jude shouting. The curtain came down – Max came stumbling through, slipping in the pool of blood.

  “Get out! Get the hell out of here!” he screamed, scrambling out of the blood puddle.

  I froze to the spot. James, who had fallen asleep before everyone else, was bent over Howard. His nails were hooked into Howard’s skin and shredding the flesh from his chest. Long strips of bloodied muscle hung from James’s mouth as he rammed it full of flesh. His skin was like a giant bruise – rotten, decaying like it was gonna fall from his bones. He gagged, drowning on the chewed-up flesh. Bubbles of clotted blood burst around his lips.

  Jude had ripped his drip free and was now using it like a baseball bat trying to ward off Simon. He swung it through the air crashing it into the side of Simon’s head. Blood splattered up the walls like a car splashing through puddles. Simon didn’t fall or even stumble. He jumped up the wall, scurrying along it like a crab. I stood like a statue, unable to move, unable to believe what my eyes were seeing.

  “Get up, Wendy!” May screamed, tugging on her friend’s arm.

  Wendy didn’t move. She lay still. Her eyes clouded with swirls of red liquid – veins packed with black lumps pulsed under her skin.

  “Leave her!” shouted Max over the din of the radio. “She’s not right. She’s changing!” He tried to drag May away but his blood-covered hands slipped from her wrist.

  “Wendy, please!” screeched May, shaking her friend by the shoulders. “We have to get out of here.”

  I looked in horror as Howard came crawling across the floor toward me, gown ripped open, a trail of blood and body parts dragging behind him. His mouth stretched open in a hideous grin. How was he still alive? He snapped his arm up, grabbing my ankles with his bony hands. I toppled back, landing on my arse, bringing the drip down with me. I tried to pull away, my hands slipping on the wet tiles. He pulled himself up over my legs using my gown for grip. I could feel his hot, wet innards sliding up my skin as my gown soaked up his blood. I couldn’t move my legs from under him. I was trapped.

  “Get the fuck off of me!” I screamed, pushing him hard in the face with the flat of my hands. His paper-thin skin felt like mush – like custard with a skin formed over it.

  He snapped his jaws at me, sharp teeth sticking out from bloodied gums. I looked about, trying to find someone to help me. Carly was hiding under my bed, her face covered in tears.

  “Carly, get him off me,” I pleaded.

  He pulled himself up my body, gripping my shoulders. One more move and we’d be face to face. He let out a snigger – blood popped from his nostrils like a punctured abscess. The smell of old, meaty vomit suffocating me.

  Carly shook her head. She lay on her side, cradling her legs up against her chest.

  “Please!” I screamed. I felt Howard sink his teeth into my stomach. “He’s gonna fucking eat me.”

  Blood soaked my face like a wave hitting a cliff. I tried to wipe it from my eyes – choking as it gushed down my throat. It was May’s blood. I saw her falling toward me, her throat ripped open. She landed on top of Howard – pinning me down even more – knocking the air from my lungs. I gasped. Then Wendy sprang from her bed – gown drenched in blood. She threw herself onto May and tore into her face, ripping the flesh from her cheek. I gagged at the deep, bloodied hole that gapped open in the side of May’s face – her tongue poked through it – flapping about like a fish out of water. A wet chewing noise filled my ears as Wendy chomped down onto a mouthful of flesh – it swung from her chin like runny jelly. She pulled at May’s body with her black-veiny hands until it had rolled off Howard and me. I gulped down lungfuls of air.

  Howard snatched at my hair, yanking on clumps of it. He chuckled, writhing his body against mine, ripping tufts from my scalp.

  “Blood,” he grinned, piercing the side of my face with his nails and raking them down my cheek. He shoved his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean like a ravenous animal.

  “Help me!” I screamed, punching my fists into his face. I couldn’t breathe, Howard’s weight crushing my body – exhaustion slowing me down.

  I saw Jude standing on his bed, Raven screaming behind him. Simon still crawled across the walls – lumps of his rotten flesh falling from his bones. He snatched at Raven’s hair. She ducked as Jude swung his drip, knocking Simon from the wall.

  “Jude!” I screamed. He didn’t hear me – the music blaring out from the radio was too loud. “Jude!”

  He turned and saw me. Howard had reached my face – his black tongue shot from his mouth, stretching – licking at my lips.

  “Help Kassidy!” Jude shouted to someone behind me.

  Two hands appeared in front of my face, snatching Howard around his throat and ripping him from me. Doctor Fletcher slammed Howard into the wall again and again and again. I could hear his skull crack. Howard slumped, a path of blood dripped down the wall.

  I tried to get up – my feet slipped. It was like being in an ice rink. The floor was coated in blood. My gown stuck to my skin. Doctor Fletcher pulled me up. His scrubs smeared in blood.

  “I’m sorry, Kassidy,” he whispered. “You need to get out of this place while you can – before the Cleaners turn up.”

  “Cleaners?” I panted.

  “Not normal cleaners. You don’t want to be here when they arrive,” he said. “Now go.”

  “But…” I started.

  “You go now before I change my mind,” he snapped, his eyes darkening as he loomed over me. He ripped the tube from my arm. The bag of VA20 fell to the floor.

  “Leave!” he shouted. His right arm sprang to the side, grabbing Wendy around her neck as she tried to snatch at me. He lifted her off her feet, flinging her like a ragdoll across the ward.

  “C’mon, Kassidy!” Jude shouted. He was by the door, Raven stood behind him. Max took hold of my hand and pulled me along.

  Reaching the door, I stopped.

  “Where’s Carly?” I asked. “We have to get her.”

  “No, we have to go,” shouted Jude, holding me back. “I’m not going in there again. We need to find a way out of this place and fast.”

  “I’m not leaving without her!” I screamed. “She’ll die in there.”

  “She’s dead already,” Jude shouted, pushing me out into the corridor. “I saw James pull her out from under the bed, Carly’s gone.”

  He dragged me along the corridor. Max and Raven had already disappeared around the corner. Just as we reached the bend, they came running back.

  “We can’t get out that way,” shouted Max. “It’s locked.”

  “We’ll have to go through Ward 1,” said Jude, turning back.

  “No way. I’m not going in there,” hissed Raven. “It’s evil, the devil works in there.”

  “Don’t be so fucking stupid,” said Jude. “The devil isn’t real. Unless you want to take your chances with Ward 2 – I don’t think we have any other options, do you?”

  “I didn’t think zombies were real until I spent a night of luxury on Ward 2!” I said, staring at Jude.

  A noise came from around the bend in the corridor. Voices. Footsteps. Doctor Middleton and Doctor Wright. There were others, too.

  We looked at each other. Panic spread across our faces.

  “We’ll have to go through Ward 1,” I whispered.

  We ran back. Jude and Max pulled at the rusty padlock barring our entry. I didn’t know which way was best. Ward 2 was no good. Our escape through the corridor was now blocked; but what if Ward 1 was a dead end?

  “Come on,” I urged, looking at Jude and Max. They were kicking at the door. Panic raced through me as the voices
down the corridor grew nearer. I flinched at the sudden thump against the doors to Ward 2. Something was trying to get out, I hoped it wasn’t Simon or maybe Howard was still alive – trying to get out and finish me off.

  “Done it, c’mon,” said Max, the rusty padlock had given up the fight and now lay broken on the floor. Jude reached down and picked it up.

  “We don’t want to leave a trail of our escape for them to follow,” he said.

  Raven still hesitated. I grabbed her hand. If she didn’t move now we’d get caught. Pulling her into Ward 1, Jude and Max shut the doors. I held my breath – afraid that Doctor Middleton would hear it. My heart thumped. Footsteps clattered past outside.

  “Clean up everyone – everything,” said Doctor Middleton from the other side of the door. “We can’t have anyone leaving the building.”

  I looked round at the others. My eyes strained to see them through the dark. What the hell had just happened on Ward 2? What was Cruor Pharma up to?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “We need to stay quiet,” said Jude. “I don’t think they’ve noticed the missing padlock. Ward 2 looks like a bloodbath and it might take them a while before they notice that some of the volunteers are missing.”

  “Help me block the doors,” I said, taking hold of a filing cabinet. “It won’t stop them for long but it might give us a bit of time to run.”

  “Doctor Fletcher might tell them we’ve escaped,” whispered Raven, flinching at the sudden sound of thunder from beyond the hospital walls.

  “Fletcher must be dead,” muttered Max. “There’s no way he could’ve killed off all those things and live to tell the tale.”

  “I don’t like it in here. Can’t you feel it? Death lingers,” murmured Raven.

  “Shut up,” spat Jude. “Someone will hear you.”

  Ward 1 lit up. The flash of lightning gave me a quick glimpse of my surroundings. Old hospital beds lay strewn across the floor. Blood-stained mattresses scattered the room. A struggle had taken place. A massacre. The windows had been boarded up. Tiny gaps between the planks allowed the lightning to burst through. I stepped forward. Catching my foot on something, I stumbled over. The sound clattered through the ward. We froze. Fearful that it would send the others looking for us.