Nurse Alissa vs. The Zombies | Book 6 | Rescue

by Baker, Scott M.

  They waited for the melee to begin.

  * * *

  Alissa and Ken approached the emergency entrance. Five deaders stood in the area, covered in snow and immobile like the ones out front. She shouldered her carbine and removed the Ka-Bar from its sheath. As Ken kept his weapon trained on them, Alissa snuck up behind the closest deader, a female in a National Guard uniform. If the deader heard, it gave no signs. Grabbing it by the back of the collar, she drove the blade between where the spine entered the skull and twirled the blade around. The deader stiffened and went limp. Alissa held it, allowing it to gently drop into the snow. She checked the pockets in its vest and found five magazines filled with 5.56mm rounds and two magazines for a Sig Sauer. She removed the vest and draped it over her shoulder.

  Attracted by the noise, the other four, three wearing hospital scrubs and one in civilian clothes, turned toward her.

  Ken raised his carbine.

  Alissa shook her head. “I got this.”

  She removed her Sig Sauer and took them down with one round to each head, the suppressor muffling the sound. With the threat neutralized, they moved into position by the entrance.

  * * *

  Hoskins checked his watch. Four minutes had passed.

  Moving to the left side of the ambulance, he removed the gas cap and shoved the pillowcase down the pipe, leaving only the alcohol-soaked tip exposed. He opened the driver’s door, reached in, and switched on the siren and warning lights. The colors and sounds broke through the density of the blizzard. As anticipated, the deaders in the parking lot turned to the ambulance and shambled toward it.

  Hoskins removed the lighter, flicked it on, and held the flame beneath the pillowcase. The material caught fire. Pocketing the lighter, he took off, following Alissa and Ken’s footprints to the emergency entrance.

  The flames reached the fuel tank at the same time as the deaders gathered around the ambulance. The explosion tore them apart, sending body parts and pieces of the ambulance across the area and into the street. The concussion set off two car alarms and blasted out the windows along the front of the building.

  Inside the lobby, close to thirty runners milled about. They were driven into a frenzy by the explosion and raced to the front of the building. Being blocked by the cars parked out front, the glass doors suffered little damage from the blast. The horde surged against them until one of the deaders accidentally pressed against the power button. The twin doors swung open, allowing the horde to surge into the parking lot in search of food.

  Chapter Eight

  “What was that?” asked Susie.

  The others in the bus knew. They recognized the sound of an explosion and spotted the black mushroom cloud even through the storm.

  Patricia hugged Susie. “Somebody is setting off fireworks.”

  “In a blizzard?” Susie crinkled her brows. “It sounded like something blew up.”

  Ramirez unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh. He tapped Boyce on the shoulder and gestured toward the back. “Kids today are a lot smarter than we were.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Susie.

  Ramirez turned to the girl and smiled. “It means you were right. That was an explosion.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “Yes, it is. It means Alissa and the others are killing deaders.”

  * * *

  “Do you hear that?” Robson turned his head.

  “What?”

  “Sounds like sirens.”

  Chris listened for a moment. “I don’t hear anything.”

  A minute later, a muffled explosion cut through the wind.

  Chris pointed to the outside. “That I heard.”

  “That doesn’t sound promising.”

  “At least they can’t blame me this time.”

  Robson stared at him quizzically.

  “I’ll explain later.”

  * * *

  “Did I just hear an explosion?” Saunders sat upright in the chair and leaned forward to glance out the window.

  “It sounds like it came from the east.”

  “Where the other groups of survivors are.” He removed the radio from his pocket. “I want to find out what’s going on.”

  * * *

  Alissa, Hoskins, and Ken cautiously entered the emergency room through the bay door used for ambulances drop offs, their weapons in the low-ready position. The corridor extended for ten feet then turned right. Hoskins inched his way to the corner, stopped, and peered around the corner. Fourteen deaders scratched at the door at the other end of the emergency room, drawn by the noise out front. Most wore scrubs. Three were adorned in National Guard uniforms. One wore civilian clothes.

  The lieutenant whispered to the others. “We can’t go in this way. There’s a pack of those things blocking the exit.”

  “We can try the visitor’s entrance to the ER. We can access the main hospital—”

  Saunders’ voice boomed over the radio. “Hoskins, Murphy. Can you hear me. We heard an explosion. Is everything all right?”

  Hoskins removed the radio and shut it off, but too late. The pack heard the noise, spun around, and rushed down the corridor.

  “What do we do now?” asked Ken.

  “We fight.” Alissa moved around the corner and fired into the pack.

  “Shit.” Hoskins joined her.

  The first volley took down four deaders but failed to stop the others.

  Ken spotted an empty stretcher against the wall. Running over to it, he pushed it ten feet down the corridor, swung it sideways so it blocked their path, and tipped it over. It only slowed the charge.

  As Ken fell back, a female deader in blue scrubs leapt over the barricade, landing on and knocking him to the floor. Ken stopped it from lunging by shoving his left hand against its chin, the palm pushing it away. The deader snapped at his hand, aiming for the exposed flesh extending from his fingerless gloves. Ken twisted his hand to the side but not in time. It caught the pinky in his mouth and bit down.

  “Fuck!”

  Alissa raced up, placed the carbine against its jaw, and fired a round. The deader’s head exploded, splattering blood and gore across the wall. As Ken backed away, a second deader in a National Guard uniform bound over the stretcher. Alissa jumped aside. The deader crashed face first on the floor. Alissa slammed the stock of her weapon into the back of its head four times before its skull collapsed, scattering brain matter across the floor.

  Three deaders tripped over the stretcher and struggled to get back to their feet. Hoskins blasted the one in front of him but could not reach the two in front of Alissa without risking catching her in the crossfire. He continued picking off the pack on the other side of the stretcher, clearing them all.

  Alissa did not have time to aim. She rammed the stock of the carbine against the first deader’s face, knocking it back onto the stretcher. Swinging the weapon to her left, she fractured the skull of the second deader, dropping it to the floor. A shot rang out from behind her. The second deader’s head exploded. Alissa glanced over her shoulder. Ken lay against the wall, the carbine in his hands, and gave her a thumbs up. Spinning around again, she battered the head of the first deader until it no longer moved.

  An eerie silence fell over the emergency room, punctuated by Ken’s crying.

  Alissa ran over and knelt beside him. “I’m sorry you were bit.”

  “I never expected to make it out of here alive.” Ken wiped the tears from his eyes with his uninjured hand. “The deader that attacked me was my daughter. She worked here at the hospital.”

  Alissa hugged him. What else could she do?

  Hoskins stood in front of them. “Do you want me to put you out of your misery?”

  “No.” Ken sniffed back his tears and stood. “It’ll be a few minutes before I turn. I can still be of help.”

  “Good man. Thanks.” Hoskins headed outside toward the visitor’s entrance.

  Ken followed.

  Alissa brought up the rear, prepared
to mercy Ken when the time came.

  * * *

  The gunfire echoing from the first floor told those trapped in the room that help had arrived.

  Kiera moved over to the phone on the side of the bed and lifted the receiver.

  “What are you doing?” asked Murphy.

  “Watch.”

  She scanned the buttons and pressed one. The phone at the nurses’ station began to ring. Snarling and the stamping of feet came from the corridor as the deaders descended on the station.

  Murphy cocked an eyebrow. “Smart girl.”

  “Thanks.” Kiera placed the handset on the nightstand.

  Murphy moved to the door and turned to the others. “Anyone up for kicking some deader ass?”

  Costas joined him.

  Kiera stepped up and readied her carbine. “I’m here to chew bubblegum and kick ass, and I’m all out of bubble gum.”

  Costas chuckled, getting the reference.

  Murphy opened the door and the three of them stepped into the corridor.

  * * *

  Relieved to find no deaders in the ER waiting room, the group made its way to the double doors leading to the rest of the building. Hoskins peered through the glass panes. No deaders could be seen.

  “It looks like my diversion worked,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  Ken moved in front of the lieutenant. “Let me go first. I’m expendable.”

  With Ken in the lead, the three entered the main part of the building.

  * * *

  Thirteen deaders hovered around the nurses’ station, clutching at the ringing phone. Distracted, none of them were aware of the humans until a hail of bullets rained down upon them.

  Five fell with the first barrage. The others turned and rushed the humans, becoming engulfed in gunfire. None got to within ten feet of their prey. As Kiera stayed behind to protect their rear, Murphy and Costas moved forward, double tapping any deader that still moved and making sure the rest of the corridor was clear. Once certain they had cleared any danger, the Guardsmen fell back to the room and took up position outside the door.

  Murphy leaned inside. “Our ride should be here shortly.”

  * * *

  Ken reached the lobby and motioned for the others to halt. He scanned the area, moved over to the receptionist desk, and looked through the Plexiglas divider. A female deader, its face chewed off, popped up and attacked, hitting the divider. It snarled and snapped at Ken but could not get to him, instead smearing blood and pieces of tissue across the surface. Being locked in its area, it posed no threat. Ken gave it the finger and joined the others.

  “Well?” asked Hoskins.

  “It’s clear. We—”

  Gunfire from the second floor interrupted him. The three spun around to face the stairwell diagonal from the receptionist area, their weapons raised, expecting to be swarmed. After a moment, the gunfire ceased.

  “Come on.” Ken led the way. He paused at the landing, peered around the corner, and waved the others on. They stopped at the top of the stairs. A pile of deader corpses lay around the nurses’ station.

  “Is anyone there?” called out Hoskins.

  “Lieutenant, is that you?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Sergeant Murphy. The coast is clear.”

  Hoskins moved past Ken onto the floor. Murphy and Costas stood outside a hospital room at the end of the corridor, waving. He headed toward them with Alissa and Ken bringing up the rear. It took them a few seconds to negotiate their way around the bodies. When they reached the others, the lieutenant and Murphy fist bumped.

  Alissa motioned down the hall. “I see you’ve been busy.”

  “Alissa!” Kiera burst out of the room and hugged her. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

  Alissa held her tight. “Same here, kid.”

  “I’m sorry I got mad at you.”

  A muffled bark came from the room. Shithead raced through the crowd and jumped on Alissa. She removed the gauze from around his mouth, being rewarded with a face bath.

  Rebecca joined them. “I’m not going to lick you.”

  “I can hope.”

  The two women hugged.

  “How’s Nathan?”

  “No change.”

  “Is the bus out front?” asked Murphy.

  “No,” replied Hoskins. “It got stuck a quarter of a mile down the road. We’ll have to go to it.”

  Rogers glanced over to the bed where Nathan lay. “That’s a long way to carry someone.”

  Hoskins agreed. “There’s two Humvees out front. We’ll use them. Let’s get out of here.”

  Rogers hoisted Nathan on his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and Kiera threw a blanket over him. With Hoskins and Ken in the lead, they made their way down the corridor.

  When they reached the stairs, Rogers asked, “Can we take the elevator?”

  “No problem.” Ken pushed the call button.

  The doors opened and two deaders lunged out, tackling Ken and shoving him against the nurses’ station. One bit his shoulder, the other his upper left arm. Ken clutched the head of the deader ravaging his shoulder and grabbed the other by the belt, holding them in place. He looked over at the others and yelled, “Go.”

  Hoskins led the group downstairs.

  Alissa stepped over to Ken and removed her Sig Sauer. The deaders, sensing new prey, tried to go after her, but Ken held them in place. Alissa raised the weapon and fired one round into each head. The living dead dropped to the floor. She switched her aim to Ken and hesitated.

  Ken’s eyes met hers, pleading. “Do it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded.

  Alissa fired two rounds into Ken’s head, sparing him from being reanimated. She raced downstairs to join the others waiting for her in the lobby.

  “Are you okay?” asked Kiera.

  “Yes.” Alissa responded without emotion. She headed for the lobby doors. “Come on.”

  Once in the parking lot, the group stopped.

  Rogers muttered, “Shit.”

  The thirty runners that had escaped from the lobby earlier now wandered through the parking lot. Upon seeing the humans emerge from the lobby, they turned toward their food, snarled, and charged.

  Chapter Nine

  A pair of large, dark images appeared in the nearby intersection and drew closer. For a moment, Alissa wondered what fresh new nightmare this might be until she heard the shifting of gears and the scraping of metal against asphalt. An air horn blared, clearly audible above the roar of the wind.

  Two trucks with attached snowplows turned off the street into the hospital parking lot, pulling beside each other and increasing speed. The deaders charged the vehicles. Nearly twenty went down in the first few seconds, their bodies shattered by the plow blades, spewing limbs and heads across the parking lot. The snow around their corpses turned crimson in blood. The Mack slowed and swung right, circling around Alissa’s group. The other did a three-point turn at the end of the parking lot and headed back into the fray in a one-sided demolition derby. The thudding of human flesh against steel was sickening but, in this case, music to Alissa’s ears.

  The Mack stopped beside the group. A burly man with white, close cropped hair climbed out and approached. He broke into an impish grin.

  “Looks like we arrived just in time.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way,” said Alissa, “but who are you and where did you come from?”

  “I’m Woody.” He extended his hand, which Alissa and Hoskins shook. “The other guy in the cab is Ben. We were stuck at the motor pool preparing the rigs to plow when the shit hit the fan. We were driving around the island looking for survivors when we heard the explosion and followed it here.”

  “Thank God you did.”

  “Excuse me, sir.” Rogers shifted Nathan on his back. “He’s getting heavy.”

  Hoskins pointed to the closest Humvee. “Put him in the back.”

  “Is that the infected patient
that caused all the hubbub?” asked Woody.

  “He’s not infected,” answered the lieutenant. “He’s immune.”

  Woody cocked an eyebrow. “Then we have to get him out of here.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Are there any other survivors?” asked Woody.

  “Two groups that we know of. The first is down the road in a school bus stuck behind a downed tree. My CO and another Guardsman are trapped in a shed down by the ferry.”

  “Don’t forget Chris and Robson,” added Alissa.

  “That’s right. There’s a helicopter that flew in the retrieval team and is waiting to extract us. We lost contact after it left the school.”

  “Crashed?” asked Woody.

  “I’m assuming so. The last we heard, they were heading for the airfield up north.”

  “No problem. We can get you to all of them. Let’s do the bus first.” Woody headed for the Mack, calling out over his shoulder. “We’ll lead the way.”

  Rogers had put Nathan in the back of the closest Humvee, placing his feet on the deck and resting his head between the rear seats. Rebecca took the seat on the right and Shithead jumped into the one on the left. Kiera rode shotgun. Alissa climbed into the driver’s side after first removing a severed hand missing three fingers that had been blown into the cab when the ambulance exploded. The four soldiers took the other Humvee.

  Hoskins beeped the horn three times. Woody blared the airhorn in reply and led the convoy out of the parking lot, each vehicle running over deader corpses and body parts. The vehicles turned right onto Main Street and headed for the bus.

  * * *

  “We’ve got company,” warned Ramirez.

  Boyce joined him at the front of the bus. “I hope it’s not deaders.”

  “Not unless the dead have headlights.” He pointed ahead of them as a set of bright lights emerged from the storm. A Mack with a plow appeared, engaged in a three-point turn, and backed up to the fallen tree.

  “Who are they?” asked Patricia.

  “I don’t know,” said Ramirez. “Thank God they arrived when they did.”

  Two men climbed out of the first truck and examined the tree. The older of the two motioned to his partner who ran back to the cab and emerged a few seconds later with a chain saw. Hoskins appeared beside the older man. They talked for a minute, then the lieutenant made his way to the bus. Three soldiers spread out around the tree, protecting the workers.