The Demented Z (Book 2): Desolation (Book 2) (15 page)

Tom yanked the chain free and pulled open the pair of
doors. A mass of happy faces stared back
at him. Kelly came running out of the
group, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
She wrapped her arms around Tom’s neck and shoulders.
  “I thought you were gone.
  After the phone call...I thought...”
  She left it at that and just squeezed him
tightly.

“I’m so sorry baby. I
should have been here...never should have left you and Sam.”
  Tom said.  
Looking over Kelly’s head, Tom could see Hank making his way over.
  Tom leaned away from Kelly and looked her in
the eyes. “I’m going to get him back.”

“We’re going to get him back.”
  Hank said as he walked up to the two of
them. With a grin he added, “It’s good
to see your ugly face. I’m betting I
missed out on all kinds of fun.”

Dennis walked up to the group and asked, “Eddie?”

Tom shook his head.  
He then surveyed the people inside the OR.
  “How’s everyone here?”

A flash of sadness crossed Hank’s eyes.
  He looked down at the floor for a few seconds
and then back up at Tom. “Rachael’s
gone. Lincoln used her to get info...she
hung on until last night.”   Hank looked
away, clearly choked up and holding back tears.  
“She’s better off now.”   He
finished.

This hit Tom hard. He
had been through a lot with Rachael and she was always there for the
group. She had a great heart and was one
of the gutsiest people he had ever met.  
Losing people was the hard reality of these times, but that didn’t make
it any easier. “Damn...I’m sorry to hear
that.”

“Brad got banged up pretty good by Lincoln as well, but he’s
doing all right.”   Hank said.

Tom nodded his head and said, “First thing, we
gotta find a way outta here.
  The main floor is infested with them.
  The basement isn’t as bad, but they’re
there.”

“How’d you get in?”  
Dennis asked from behind Hank.

“They’ve swarmed the parking lots and all around the
building. Eddie knew about some old
tunnels that run under Newport. We took
those and popped up in an old boiler room in the basement.”

Hank looked hopeful.  
“Can we get back out that way?”

“Definitely.
  The trouble is going to be getting down
there.”   Tom held up his revolver and
said, “I have a few rounds left for this and maybe fifteen rounds for my 9mm.
  We can’t gun our way out.”
  He looked over Hank’s shoulder and added,
“I’m not sure how we get all these people down.”

“Everyone here is alive because they’re fighters.
  I think we piece together whatever weapons we
can, get to the basement, and gang rush out of here.”
  Hank said.

“That’s crazy enough it might just work.”

“I don’t see another way, we have to just barrel out.”
  Hank said with what looked like a grin on his
face.

******

After several minutes of planning and nearly an hour of
scavenging for makeshift weapons, the group now stood in a semi-circle
listening to Tom. He stood in front of
them with Hank at his side. “Stick
together, we can’t wait or go back for anyone.  
Don’t waste time fighting. Defend
yourself, but keep moving. If you stop
they’ll swarm you and then you’re done.”

They all knew Tom had more experience surviving amongst the
infected than any of them and they had a huge amount of respect for him.
  While he was away from the hospital Hank had
told stories of what they had been through together, turning Tom into an instant
legend. Then he returned from what many
thought was certain death, only raising his status all the more.
  Most would now follow him into the pits of
hell.

“Stay tight and watch yourself.”
  Tom finished.

Everyone began nodding their heads emphatically and talking
amongst each other. Some shared hugs,
knowing this could get ugly.

Tom turned to Kelly and said, “Stay right behind me.
  No matter what happens stick right behind
me.   We’re going to
lose people...you can’t worry about that.  
Don’t stop for anyone, okay?”

Kelly nodded her head.  
Her eyes looked terrified.

“Promise me. Promise
me you will stay with me.”

“I will, I promise.”  
She said.

Tom nodded his head and pulled her into his chest for a
hug. They stood embracing each other for
a few minutes, trying to imagine themselves somewhere better.

“Break it up or get a room you two.”
  Hank said from next to them.
  With a grin he added, “The gangs ready.”

“Let’s rock.”   Tom
said.

Dennis said he knew the best route down to the basement and
would help lead the way, so out in front were Tom, Hank, and Dennis.
  The elevator would never hold them all and
was not even an option. The back
stairway was hopefully clear and would get them all the way down to the bottom
of the hospital. Tom and Hank were the
only two with guns, while the rest of the group had makeshift weapons.
  They looked like a group of thugs out of an
action movie in the Bronx. Some carried
bats made out of table legs. Others
carried surgery tools like saws and scalpels.

Like a swarm of bees they all moved down the hall as
one. Rather than turning down the hall
toward the elevator and primary stairway, they made their way down the hall in
the other direction.   After a sharp turn
the hall led to a nondescript metal door.  
There were no markings to notify anyone of where it led, but Dennis was
confident it would get them where they needed to go.

Hank raised his pistol and pointed it at the center of the
door.

Tom got ready to give the crash bar a push.
  “If there’s nothing, keep quite till it hits
the fan.”

Hank nodded in agreement.

Tom raised his revolver and gave the crash bar a shove with
his foot. The door swung wide open,
revealing an empty cement stairwell. A
single emergency light was mounted high on the wall, striking the space in a
harsh light full of eerie shadows. The
door made a loud bang as it slammed into the cement wall, echoing loudly in the
enclosed chamber. There were no growls,
foot falls, or other noises of the infected.

“Stairway’s clear, let’s move.”
  Tom whispered.

No matter how quiet people tried to be, they still made a
lot of noise. The group sounded like a
herd of elephants in the cement stairwell.  
It took lots of practice to truly be able to stay quiet and sneak.
  Most people thought they had it, but very few
really did. Tom just hoped all the
racket was not penetrating out into the basement.

After two flights of stairs they reached an unmarked metal
door. Tom held his ear to the door
listening, but could only pick up the distant thrum of the generator.

Dennis pointed at the door and said, “Goes to a narrow hall
that runs between some offices. We’ll
take it for fifty feet or so, jog right and then we’re in the main hall...close
to the elevator.”

Tom looked back at the packed stairway.
  Scared white eyes stared back at him.
  He felt like this was the moment that a great
leader would give a rousing speech about good triumphing over evil and the
power of the human spirit. Instead he
turned back to the door, a heavy lump weighing on his stomach.
  The churning acid almost made him heave.
 
Some
kind of leader I am.

Using the same door opening technique as earlier, Hank
stepped back with his pistol pointed center mass at the door, while Tom stood,
grabbed the door handle and pulled it open.  
Tom stepped back a bit allowing room for the door to open.
  Before it got all the way open a muffled
grunt sounded from somewhere on the other side.  
There were no lights on in the narrow hall.
  Tom was prepared for this and used his off
hand to click on the large flashlight.  
The bright beam shot into the darkness, illuminating a woman’s
face.

She was young, maybe twenty at the most, and was probably
pretty before she turned. Just by the
bright red puffiness surrounding her eyes it was clear she was infected.
  Her teeth were bared in a half grimace as she
sprinted their way. She was just opening
her mouth in a shriek when Hank’s pistol barked.
  The shot hit her in the bridge of the nose,
splattering gore across her face, and dropping her to the floor.
  After all the quiet, the shot sounded like a
cannon blast.

Before Tom could get moving, Dennis and a couple others
sprinted past, rushing down the narrow hallway into the darkness.

“Go, go!”   Tom shouted
as he sprinted after them. His
flashlight beam bouncing wildly as he ran.  
The sounds of feet pounding on the floor trailed after him.
  Somewhere ahead echoed the terrifying
huffs
of the demented.

His flashlight beam hit on something rounding the corner
just ahead of them. Maybe
a pair of legs running their way.  
One of the people leading the way shifted over to the side of the hall,
blocking Tom’s view.

The scream was blood curdling.

The dark form went to the floor in a thrashing of arms and
legs. Tom aimed the flashlight at the
mass, lighting up the two bodies struggling with one another.
  One of them shouted with exertion.

Just ahead one of the men grunted loudly and there was a
sickening crunch, followed by a thud as something slammed into the wall.
  The thought of leaving someone fighting for
their life on the floor tore at Tom’s conscience.

Angry growls sounded from elsewhere in the basement.

Tom raced past the two entangled forms on the floor, shining
his flashlight ahead. A demented lay
crumpled up at the base of the far wall, blood streaming down his face and
neck. Dennis and one other man were just
turning the corner to the right.  
Following the two men around the corner, Tom was glad to see the large
hallway just ahead was lit with emergency lighting.

  A dark blur darted
from the side and slammed into Dennis, taking him to the floor out of
sight. The man next to him began to
turn, but before he could finish the movement another demented tackled him as
well. The ferocious growls and bone
chilling screams that followed were one of the worst things Tom had ever heard.
  A pair of kicking boots was just visible past
the open doorway.

Tom’s heart was booming in his chest.
  The sounds of the infected were ramping
up. The infected heard each other and
fed off the rage. Their ranks swelled,
attracted to the sounds of prey.

“Keep going!”   He
heard Hank shout from next to him. Until
then Tom hadn’t realized he had slowed to nearly a stop.
  Hank’s voice pulled him out of his stupor.

Tom jammed his flashlight into his utility belt as he raced
down the corridor. Reaching the main
hall, he saw entangled bodies struggling on the floor.
  Stark emergency lights cast harsh shadows
throughout the area. Blood was beginning
to pool across the cement. Screams were
turning to gurgled gasps, like yanking a pair of boots out of thick mud.

Shoes pounding on the cement echoed from around the corner, warning
the group of what was to come. Seconds
later several demented rushed around the corner, growling in anger.
  They were moving impossibly fast and when
they saw people right in front of them they seemed to surge ahead, driven by
their hunger and rage.

“Firing left.”   Tom
shouted while running straight at the attackers.
  Wanting to make every shot count, Tom aimed
center mass. The revolver thundered and
kicked, sending a round slamming into the side of the demented furthest to the
left. His body spun sideways.
  His feet caught together, spilling him to the
cement.

From next to Tom, Hank’s pistol began spitting lead with a
loud
pop, pop, pop
.
   He started on the right side,
continuing to run while shooting.

The sounds of the group following behind them were nearly
drowned out by the infected. As fast as
Tom and Hank could gun demented down, more rounded the corner.
  They were both slowing to nearly a stop as
they continued to try to hold the demented at bay.
  Tom looked longingly at the stairwell door,
but he knew it only led to death on the main floor.
  He felt Kelly bump into him from behind.

It was just as his revolver ran dry with an ominous click
that several people raced past him, clubs and weapons raised.
  They screamed the battle cry of the
doomed. A final defiant shout to let the
world know they were “all in.”   From next
to him, Hank’s pistol must have run dry as well, the only sounds that remained
were the shrieks, screams, and growls of the combatants.

Tom ditched the revolver and slid the police baton from his
utility belt. Ahead of him the two
forces slammed into each other with a thud that could be felt in his
chest. The speed and sheer number of
demented began pushing the group back, biting and clawing at their exposed
flesh. Baton raised, Tom screamed out
and sprinted into the fray. Hank and the
others followed in his wake.

Before reaching the fight, Tom noticed the door to the
stairwell was shaking and a loud pounding emanated from behind it.
  The infected on the second floor must have
heard the shots and wanted in on the action.  
If they got the door open the group would surely be out flanked and
overran.

Tom picked one of the largest of the demented.
  He was an enormous, barrel chested man with a
deep red beard that reached all the way to his chest.
  His huge arms were fending off attacks and
beating on anyone that dared come close to him.  
Face twisted with rage, teeth bared, he growled with anger.

Using his momentum, Tom raced through the throngs, hell bent
on taking down the Red Giant. With the
baton raised over his head Tom yelled out and swung down, directing the blow at
the large man’s forehead. With
surprising quickness Red brought up one of his tree trunk sized forearms, deflecting
the blow. With the hit came a loud
crack, but this only seemed to enrage him.  
He swung at Tom with his other fist.  
Tom ducked the swinging attack and used his forward momentum to crash
shoulder first into Red’s waist, sending the two of them crashing to the floor.