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Authors: Mark Kramer,Felix Cruz

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BOOK: The Real Night of the Living Dead
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“You think I’m crazy,” I said. “Tell me, how many people did that guy, who busted in the kitchen, bite?”

Hank said, “At least four. But they’re all dead.”

“And where’d they die?” I said.

“The bodies were spread in and around the dining area,” said the doctor.

“Not anymore they
ain’t
,” said Billy.

“That’s bullshit,” said Hank. “We saw them dead on the floor when we ran back here.”


Ain’t
nothin
’ but blood on them there floors
now.

Hank was shaking his head, not believing a word of it. The doctor was staring at Billy, a look of shock on his face. I said, “Whoever was dead in that cafeteria is wandering this building. We saw some outside and heard a few when we were heading this way. Believe
me,
I’ve seen it happen more than once tonight.”

The young doctor gazed at Hank and said, “That…That would explain why your bullets didn’t hurt the attackers.”

“You
gotta
aim at the some-bitch’s head, Hank the Tank,” said Billy. “That’s why you
ain’t
do
nothin
’.”

“What? Don’t you ever shut your goddamn mouth?” said Hank.

“That’s the truth,” I said. “The only way to stop them is by hitting the brain. Doctor Haas explained it, has to do with the virus that’s driving their mind or whatever.”

No one said a word for a minute or two. The only noise was that of the older patient, biting into his apple.

Then I broke the silence, “I’ll tell you what, whether you mugs believe me or not, there are a bunch of them headed this way.”

“What do you mean a bunch?” said Hank.

“The patients broke loose from N-3 and spread across the campus,” I said.
“Looks like they hit the women’s buildings and infected people there.
Now they’re coming this way.”

Hank was eyeing Melvin now. “So if you catch the infection from being bitten, then this sorry bastard here should be turning into one of them.
Right?”
I stayed quiet. “So why’s he in here? I ought to shoot him now, before he has the chance to attack us.”

“Leave him,” I said. “I’ll handle him myself.”

Melvin looked horrible. He had already lost so much blood, his skin was pale, and he passed out as soon as we came in the storage room. I knew he wasn’t going to last another twenty minutes.

I had a lump in my throat. Wanted to cry so
bad
. But I held it, fought it back. “He’s my friend. I don’t want anything to happen to him unless he really does change.”

“Then you keep him away from us,” said Hank. “If he attacks me, I’m killing you, him, hell, I’ll kill everyone in this room.”

The doctor shook his head in disgust.

Melvin moaned and whispered, “Hey, pal.”

I looked. He motioned me over. I walked and knelt down beside him.
“How you feeling?”

“Lousy. But I don’t quit. Never have. Listen, I
gotta
tell you something. Come closer.” I moved in, my face, a few inches from his. “I
ain’t
exactly who you think I am, see?” I squinted. He continued, “I’m a reporter…a reporter for the Inquirer…I…I was working undercover…supposed to do an exposé…on…the…conditions of this joint…” I couldn’t believe it. I had known this guy for months and would never have even imagined him to be a reporter. “Go in my wallet. Get my driver’s license. And get my keys from my pocket.”

“Why? What do you want me to do with that?” I said.

“My…address…is on it. If things don’t turn out…good…for me…I want you to go…my place. All my files are there…about my…investigation. Take…to…
the paper…turn
them in to the editor. But make sure you fill them in on what’s…going on…tonight. Get me?”

I swallowed the urge to cry. He was dying, and it was tearing me apart inside. Since we first met, we were kind of like partners, always working together. But soon that would be over. “I get you.”

“Christ, I could…really use a drink,” he said.

I nodded, smiled and had to turn away. It was too painful to see him like that. I stood and faced the rest of the group. They were staring at me, save Billy; he was busy wiping the caked mud from his feet.

“We must leave,” said the doctor. “If you say there are so many approaching, then we really need to leave. We can exit out this back door.”

The lights flickered.

“Did any of you try calling the police?” I said.

“We tried,” said Hank, “but the line was already dead.”

The doctor said, “Yes, but I would hope one of the employees, who managed to make it out of here, went for help. Even if they did, who knows how long it would be before the authorities arrived? We can’t afford to stay and wait and suffer at the hands of them.”

“If you leave, where do you go?” I said. “The creek is probably flooded, so the roads surrounding this place are going to be out.”

“I say we stay here,” said Hank. “We’ll be safe. They’ll never get through that door. We have plenty of food to last for all of us. Trust
me,
we’re fine in this room. At the most, we just need to wait until morning. Once the day crew arrives and sees what’s going on, they’ll go for help.”

“I’m going to the children’s camp,” I said.

“The children’s camp?” said Hank. “You’re crazy. That’s behind the women’s group. You’ll have to go straight through that army that you say is headed this way.”

“Like I said, I’m going to the children’s camp.”

The doctor said, “I understand there are a few hundred patients there that need help, but there are thousands of patients throughout this campus that are in just as much danger. What is so important that you need to get to the children’s camp?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

I was a few days into my position at the hospital when I was first reunited with Clara Daniels. We were childhood sweethearts when she was thirteen and I was seventeen; we dated for a few months until I moved to New Jersey with my older brother. She was named after the old picture star Clara Bow around the time of the height of her popularity, 1928. She was twenty-three and an honest to God knockout.

That morning, I was assigned to work as Clara’s attendant. She was going to be spending the day with a group of about twenty kids. They were going to waste away a few hours at the hospital’s bowling alley.

My supervisor introduced us, and I couldn’t believe how much she changed. In a way, she even resembled Clara Bow. She had wavy brown hair that was parted to the side and hazel eyes that could put a man in a trance. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was a woman.

We sat at a table by one of the lanes. She was smiling, watching the kids enjoying themselves; most of them were happy to get out of their cottages for a while, others sat in a corner, staring at the kids playing, or staring at Clara and myself.

I was sipping from a bottle of Coca-Cola and eating a ham sandwich that came from the kitchen. I caught Clara watching me. She said, “Are you one of these men from the prison system?
The ones that opt to work here?”

I gazed at her. Waited about a minute, letting her question hang out there, before saying, “You got it right. I’m a thug.
A lowlife.
A criminal.
A no good dirty rotten rat.
Yeah, I spent some time in the joint. You should be glad I didn’t stick around. You would be wasting your life, visiting me in prison and counting the days till I was released.”

“That’s what love is all about,” she said. “You’re there through the good times and the bad times. I would have always been there for you.”

 
“You were a kid, Clara. You didn’t love me. And if you thought you did then you didn’t know what the word meant.”

Her brow wrinkled as she said, “How can you tell me I wasn’t in love with you? I may have been a kid, but I knew what I wanted in life. I wanted you,
Veimer
.” She paused. “And you threw it away. A lifetime together, you threw it away for a job with your brother in Jersey.”

I gazed at her. The smile from her face was gone. She was telling the truth. She did love me. What a
stup
I was. I never realized it when we were together. But we were kids at the time. So young we were.

For what it was worth, I apologized. Then we spoke for a little more than an hour, talking about the old neighborhood and what made her want to become a nurse.

By the end of that day, I realized, if I didn’t love her then, then there was a feeling inside me now, a feeling of not wanting to be apart from her, wanting to hold her and never let go. I cared for her now, but I was afraid that she didn’t care two bits about me. How could I blame her after having left ten years ago?

That night, I laid in my bed at the dorm and stared at the ceiling until long after midnight. I couldn’t fall asleep. All I could think about was Clara, how beautiful she was, how I hurt her so long ago, the feelings I had for her now, and if she may still have the same feelings for me. I decided I would try my best to win her back. That would be my goal while I was stuck here, completing my sentence.

A few days later, during my lunch, I snuck over to the nurses’ dormitory. I asked one of the women there which one was Clara’s bed. She led me to an alcove in the corner and pointed out the bed. I left roses ― that I asked Melvin to pick up for me from the florist around his home ― on top of the pillow with a note attached that read:

To Clara,
                                                                        
a
                                                   
                                                                                                                                                         
Would you ever consider forgiving that dumb kid who made the worst mistake of his life when he bailed on an angel and left her to fly without her wings?

Love,
     
The
Dumb Kid

That night, as I was wrapping up my shift, I was taking the tunnel alone from N-5 back to N-3. She must’ve found out from my super where I was working, because, as I neared the end of the tunnel, her arms reached out from the darkness and pulled me in.

We kissed for what seemed like ten years, making up for the time we spent apart. Then we made love right there in the dark, filthy, damp tunnel…and it was beautiful.
The best experience that I ever had in my life.

We were a couple after that night. We did our best to keep it a secret, only a few friends knew, but we planned on staying together. Clara said, then, “I love you,
Veimer
. And I don’t care how long it
takes,
I’ll wait for you until your time here is over.”

We were dedicated to spending an eternity together. That’s why I was determined to reach Clara. Even if it meant fighting my way through hundreds of living dead maniacs who wanted only to rip my body apart and feast on my flesh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

 

I told them about Clara, my “childhood friend”, and how I wanted to be sure that she was safe.

The only person still holding out on going to the children’s camp was Hank. The doctor’s only reason for coming with us was that he knew he wouldn’t be safe here. He just wanted to be sure we took the safest route possible to get there. And, since he was responsible for him, he was bringing the older patient along for the journey.

For the past twenty minutes, we were resting. Then the older patient opened his mouth, “I am a very smart man, you know? I am a professor at Beaver College.”

We stared at him, Billy smiling. No one said a word.

Hank said, “Who the hell asked you?”

The professor ignored Hank and said, “Do you know that Shakespeare created the name of Jessica?” No one said a word. Hank shook his head. “The name, as it is spelled today, first appeared in
The Merchant of Venice
. Jessica is the daughter of Shylock. I would bet you did not know that to be a fact?”

BOOK: The Real Night of the Living Dead
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