Time of Death Book 2: Asylum (A Zombie Novel) (36 page)

"Yeah," I dragged out. "I had to borrow your
shirt."

She laughed, rolling back onto her side to go
back to sleep. "Those poor guys are gonna piss themselves when they
see you."

I smiled wickedly, thinking how men become
bumbling idiots when presented with a bit of cleavage, and left the
room after securing BB through a belt-loop.

"Ah, old friend," I cooed at my crowbar.
"It's been a while."

When I opened the front door I was assaulted
by the crisp morning air. The change in temperature set my teeth
chattering, and I instantly regretted my choice in shirts and
crossed my arms over my chest. At that moment, I was sure I could
cut glass.

"Whoa," exclaimed Vance, pulling open the
gate for me to pass. "Someone's bringing their A-game today."

I laughed nervously. "Morning, Vance," I
replied, giving him an exaggerated, flirtatious wink.

He fanned himself and feigned dizziness. "I
do declare, Mrs. Rossi, you're givin' me a case of the vapors," he
said in a southern accent.

"Frankly, Vance, I don't give a damn," I
answered dramatically and walked away.

Boss gave me a muffled woof as I approached,
and loped over for some attention. The Guard, which consisted of
Tom, Jake, and about twenty others stopped their idle chatter and
stared at me when I joined the group.

"Morning," said Tom when I stopped beside
him. Since he was the only one who smiled upon seeing me, it was
the obvious choice to gravitate to him.

Jake, on the other hand, looked as if he were
ready to explode and stalked over to me. He grabbed my arm roughly
and dragged me away from the group.

"Ouch, Jake, you're hurting me!" I cried,
pulling my arm away from him and rubbing the tender spots where his
fingers had gripped.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he
growled.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine," I added,
going heavy on the snark. "Surprised to see me?"

"Get inside. You're embarrassing me."

I ignored his comment, even though it had
started the simmer on my anger-meter. "Well, it wouldn't have been
a surprise if you'd talked to me when I asked instead of running
off to God knows where like a little bitch."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he
asked.

The tone of his voice hit a nerve, and I felt
the tension in my body dissipate. Even the rage that boiled in the
pit of my stomach subsided, and a wave of calm washed through me.
Most people don't know this, but at the very center of a hurricane,
it's eerily still. That's what I felt in that moment, and I knew it
scared Jake, because he took a small step away from me.

"Get over yourself, Jake," I told him
quietly. My voice was low and even, calculated almost. "Whatever
shit you've got going on, I'm sick of it. Let's be clear about a
few things. First of all, you don't get to talk to me like I'm dog
shit on the bottom of your shoe. I am your wife, not your verbal
punching bag. Second, you are teetering on the line of becoming a
single man, and I don't know if you realize this, but the dating
pool has been drastically altered."

I stuck out my foot and drew an imaginary
line in the sand to bring home my point before continuing. "I'm
going today at Mack's request. So you can either deal with it, or
go cry in the corner like the pussy you've become."

The calm had begun to evaporate and my anger
was back in full-force. My fists were clenched at my side, and I
made a conscious effort to not take a swing at him.

"Don't you—" he started, but I cut him
off.

Not caring about being discreet anymore, I
took an abrupt step closer to him, rising up on my toes until we
were nose to nose, and screamed into his face. "I'm not
finished!"

Spittle flew from my mouth and I swiped the
back of my hand across my chin. The swift movement of my arm caused
Jake to flinch in fear that I was about to strike him. I heard the
gathered crowd of men gasp behind Jake, but my eyes never left
his.

"I've asked you to talk for weeks, and you've
blatantly ignored my request. So you know what? You don't get to
talk right now. The only thing you're going to do is listen. And
for your sake, I sincerely hope you hear me. So pay attention
closely. Are you listening?"

His stared at me incredulously and nodded his
head. "Ye-yes," he sputtered.

I lowered my heels to the ground and tilted
my head back to look up at him, but I didn't back away. "This is
it, Jake. Consider this your come-to-Jesus moment. You either work
your shit out and get it together, or I'm done. I have enough to
deal with, what with the end of the world and all. I don't need to
endure your emotional warfare on top of it."

He opened his mouth to respond but I cut him
off again.

"Not now. I'm not dealing with this anymore
today. When we get back I don't want to see or even hear you. Think
about it tonight and tomorrow, if you are ready to put on your
big-boy pants and discuss it, then you know where to find me. If
you don't, then I guess I'll know your answer. But know this, I'm
done begging."

The pit of my stomach was still in knots when
I left Jake standing alone to process my words. The urge to beat
him with the crowbar was strong enough to add a little pep in my
step so as not to lose control and actually do it. I held my head
high, refusing to look at the group of men as I moved past them to
the trucks.

I smelled rotting flesh and scanned the area
for the walking pus-bag that belonged to the stench. I found it
lumbering toward us up the path. Bingo, I thought, unsheathing BB
and holding it above my head like a two-handed broadsword as I ran
at the zombie.

"Oh, yeah," I muttered. Like good sex, the
release of my rage was nearly orgasmic and left me feeling spent.
The mangled corpse lay still by my feet after having endured the
wrath of Emma. It was likely dead after the first swing, but I gave
it a few more whacks for good measure. I wiped the gore from BB on
the overgrown grass and let out a long sigh before straightening up
again. Turning back to the trucks, I brushed back the hair that
clung to my sweaty forehead and walked to the Guard.

Okay, so walk wasn't the most appropriate
word for it. I sauntered, with hips swaying and a devious smile as
I made eye contact with each of them, except Jake, and they
squirmed under my gaze. Sometimes a woman just feels sexy after a
good zombie kill. I giggled inwardly and bet myself that they were
all sporting some major morning wood.

I replaced BB into my belt loop and leaned
against a truck. "So, are we doing this or what?" I asked, lifting
an eyebrow.

Chapter 23: Saddle Up

Tom and I climbed into the cab of a truck in the
middle of the pack. Without a back seat, and with Boss sitting
eagerly between us, there wasn't room for anyone else. Much to my
relief. I didn't want to find myself in a confined space with Jake
for fear of getting into it, and I didn't care to even learn the
jock's names much less share airspace with them.

I know, I'm bad about getting to know people.
Hell, back at Target, I hadn't even known Nancy's husband's name
was Joe until he was dead and trying to eat us. But this was
different. I didn't like Asylum, and I loathed Mack. These men
embodied everything I hated. If I got to know them, I was afraid
they wouldn't be the assholes I thought, and it would be the start
of my slippery slope into letting down my guard.

"A little hard on him, don't you think?" Tom
held his breath, afraid his question would put him in my
crosshairs.

I leaned my head on the passenger window and
looked at the detritus of cars and debris as we drove slowly down
41.

"Probably, but you have no idea how hard this
has been for me. The Jake you know isn't the same man I married.
He's never treated me like this in the ten years we've been
married. It stings, Tom." I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears
I felt brimming on the bottom lids from spilling onto my
cheeks.

"These are some pretty dark times. It changes
people," he offered, as if it would magically excuse Jake's
actions.

"So I'm just supposed to except that he's
changed into an asshole? I get that things are tough, but it
doesn't make it okay to use me as an emotional punching bag. And
it's not in me to lay down and take it."

"If he can't bring himself back from the
edge, are you truly prepared to make good on your promise?" he
challenged.

Sighing, I reopened my eyes and questioned my
resolve. "I think I am. But I really hope it won't come to
that."

"Me too," he replied.

The farther away we got from Asylum, the more
zombies shambled aimlessly. That is, until they spotted the moving
line of vehicles, and began following behind. I wasn't worried
about them catching up, but wondered how many would still be
looking for us when we passed by on the return trip.

The truck stopped, and the fear of what we
were about to do became tangible. Instead of entering by way of the
emergency room, our vehicles made a semicircle under the carport at
the main entrance. Given that the lion's share of infection began
in the ER and spread from there, it seemed logical that the highest
density of undead would still be milling about inside. While it was
the most convenient and logical place to gather everything we
needed, it wasn't worth the risk.

Tom squared his shoulders and peeked around
Boss. "Ready for this?"

"Nope, you?"

"Not even a little bit," he replied
honestly.

* * *

Beyond the revolving entry, I could only see
a few bobbing heads of the emaciated undead. They appeared docile
and nonthreatening and I had a surge of false hope that they would
be too weak to attack. The bristles at the bottom of the door slid
along the linoleum floor in a soft whoosh and my hopes were
instantly dashed when heads snapped in our direction and every
zombie in hearing range converged on our group.

We filed through the opening to meet the
oncoming threats and the Guard fanned out in a defensive line,
wielding various melee weapons. I may have been angry at Jake, but
that didn't mean I wasn't worried about him getting hurt, or worse.
I kept my attention focused on the escalating situation but
couldn't help keeping Jake in my periphery.

Tom and I stayed behind the line of men.
There was no need for us to join the fray, since there was only a
handful of undead. Before we left the truck, the cop had slid a
pair of black leather gloves on. In one hand, he held tight to the
short leather leash attached to Boss' collar. In the other, he
snapped open a collapsible riot baton.

With the zombies neutralized, we huddled
around a map of the facility. One of the men barked orders and
assigned groups to different units. I held my breath as he went
down the list, relieved when I was sure we wouldn't be venturing to
the peds or neonatal areas. I didn't wish that experience on
anyone. I'd seen toddlers and infants turned, and it was damaging
enough to make the highlight reel of my worst nightmares.

The gruff man shoved a piece of paper and a
canvas bag into my hands. "The nurse and cop will accompany
Garnett, Forbes, and Wilson to advanced surgery on the second
floor." Then he addressed me personally. "If you don't find
everything on the list, you are to move south to ortho."

I looked around the group of men, all
chomping at the bit to get moving. My eyes settled on Jake, who
looked back at me with a mix of fear, anger, and worry. His lips
pulled back into a small, tentative smile and we held each other's
gaze for an extra second.

"We don't leave until we get it all. Saddle
up boys, this one's gonna be a bumpy ride." The lead man's command
set off a chorus of whoops from the group and smaller units began
peeling off in their assigned directions.

I read through the list of medications, more
than a little disturbed at the content. Rapid and long acting
insulin topped the list, followed by some pretty hardcore
additions. Phenobarbital, Propofol, and Vecuronium stood out as I
read. What the hell did Mack need with anesthesia, paralytics, and
drugs that induced coma?

Tom introduced me to the three men, and we
moved down a hallway toward the stairs. Various doors lined the
hall, some thankfully closed, while others loomed open. The
guardsman Tom introduced as Wilson took the lead, and with the help
of Forbes, they cleared ahead, closing doors before motioning for
us to move up to them.

Boss' nails clicked on the hard floor as we
advanced. The lead team had closed a door on the left and were
advancing to another opening on the right when the canine growled.
We all froze, and Tom quieted the dog, who now strained against his
leash to be let loose on whatever lurked beyond the door.

Of course, we should have expected this next
room to be where the party took place. Debris was everywhere, and
the area was a mess of bloody footprints with no discernible
pattern. This doorway, however, looked like the room had vomited
blood into the hall.

Nothing shambled out to greet us, which only
meant we needed to make the first move. I couldn't see into the
room from where I stood, but when Wilson advanced enough to look
in, the color drained from his face for just a moment before
revulsion turned it a sickly shade of green.

I didn't realize I was chewing on the inside
of my cheek until I tasted the coppery blood in my mouth and felt
the sharp sting of pain. The dog vibrated with tension beside me,
waiting for Tom's command to attack.

Wilson darted into the room and pulled the
door shut with a loud bang. I whimpered at the sudden sound and
felt Boss press his body against my leg. Instinctively, I reached
down to touch his fur and felt the tension leave both of us.
Wilson's color returned to normal once the abomination was
concealed by the closed door. I refused to look through the small
window as we moved beyond the blood-splattered area.