Nine

“We got problems,” said the jackass in the hunting jacket. His hurt friend - was his name Moe? - was pale and sweating behind him.

Angie nodded. “Yeah. I just knocked someone's head off with a fire extinguisher. I'm going to get the cops.”

Behind her, Freeda made a worried noise. “The head's still moving.”

Angie sighed. “Don't look at it, Freeda.”

“That doesn't stop it moving.”

“Stops you talking about it.”

Moe swayed back and forth slightly. “Park, I feel bad...”

The jackass - apparently named Park - frowned at Angie and Freeda. “I give such a shit about everything you're saying, I really do. But you ain't getting out that way.”

He pushed the doors to the waiting room open. Looking past him, Angie could see a few patients struggling with a crowd that was slowly pushing its way into the waiting room. One member of the crowd - a teenager with a religious t-shirt - bit into the face of a patient - an elderly woman with a walker. The woman screamed as blood shot out onto the teenager's face.

Angie heard movement behind her. She turned to see someone slowly coming through the hole the ambulance had made.

It was an overweight man, half in the room and half out. He blinked at the floor as he tried over and over again to pull himself into the room. He reached into the room with one hand. The other arm was hidden outside, behind the edge of the hole.

“Sir?” Angie started to say.

The man groaned and lurched the rest of the way into the room. He had no other arm. He had a stump, fresh and bloody.

Movement came from the floor. Angie looked down. Dr. Gordon was getting up. He straightened and his wet guts spilled out onto the floor. He took a step toward Angie and the others, his foot clumsily squishing on a loop of his own intestines.

Angie opened her mouth to react, then noise came from the ambulance. Max and Pete crawled out of the open back doors. Wet cords dangled from Max's open throat, bouncing limply against his gore-soaked chest as he staggered. Pete groaned. The flap of skin that had been Pete's face flapped slowly with each step he took. Thick dark blood ran down his neck and shoulders.

Angie bit her lip. “Is that happening?”

“Yeah,” said Freeda.

“Shit,” said Angie.

“We need to go,” said Park. Moaning grew from the waiting room.

Angie nodded. “There's two other side exits. Follow me.”

They ran.

Angie led them down the hall to the nurse's station at the center of the hospital. It consisted of a long desk with two computers and three chairs, abandoned and empty.

Park entered last, helping Moe along with him. “Which way?” he said.

“One second,” said Angie. She moved to the door they had just come through. It was solid glass with locks at the top and bottom. She closed the door and locked it.

“These doors are reinforced glass,” she said. “This way they can't follow us or get to the patient rooms.”

“I'm so glad I know that,” said Park, adjusting Moe's weight on his arm. “Which fucking way?”

Angie turned, taking in the three other hallways that went off from the nurse's station. She chose one.

“Here,” she said, pushing past Freeda and heading down the hall. The others followed.

They rushed past several patient rooms. Patients sat up in their beds, looking confused and worried.

“Is something wrong?” said one, an older woman with several IVs.

“Everything's fine,” yelled Angie as she ran by. “Everyone just stay calm. And whatever you do, don't open the locked door at the nurse's station.”

Park snorted. Angie cast a glare back at him.

“As soon as we get out of here,” she said, “we'll call the cops to come rescue the patients.”

“Yeah,” said Park. “I'll get right on that.”

They were halfway to the exit door when a group of crazies burst in.

“Shit!” yelled Angie, stopping.

“Where the fuck are they all coming from?” said Park.

Screams came from all directions. From the patient rooms. Crashing glass echoed through the hallway.

“The windows!” said Freeda.

“Oh god, no!” yelled Angie.

“We gotta move,” yelled Park, already rushing Moe back the way they had come.

“We have to save the patients!” said Angie.

“There's too many of those crazies,” said Freeda. “We have to run!”

Angie looked at Freeda. Behind Freeda, Park was fighting off a crazy. Blood ran from the crazy into the patient room it had come from. Patients were screaming. Crazies were coming up the hall from behind.

Angie swallowed. “Shit. Let's go.”

She and Freeda ran up the hall. Angie stopped halfway to Park and stared into a patient room. The older lady with multiple IVs was splayed across her bed, head facing the door. Her head hung back over the edge of the mattress, empty eyes staring at Angie. A toddler was atop her. He had the woman's gown lifted up and was chewing on one of her breasts. He tore free a hunk of skin, fat and blood. He chewed and looked at Angie.

“Angie!” came Freeda's voice from up the hall.

Angie turned to look. Freeda was struggling to pull a crazy from Park. The crazy was snapping its teeth inches away from Park's cheek. A second crazy was coming up behind Moe.

Angie ran to help. She reached Moe first and pulled him away from the crazy's reach. Moe was covered in sweat.

Moe blinked slowly, looking very confused.

“Sir?” said Angie, feeling his head. It was very hot. “Are you alright?”

“Shit!” yelled Park. Angie turned to look. The crazy, a bodybuilder with huge muscles and a hole where his nose had been, was close to biting into Park's neck. Freeda was holding the bodybuilder back, pulling on his arm so hard she was leaning backward. It didn't look like she could hold him much longer.

Angie grabbed Park and pulled the other way.

“Goddamit, this fucker's strong!” said Park.

And he was. The crazy inched closer. Soon his teeth would find skin.

“For fuck's sake,” came Moe's thick, slightly slurred voice. Moe reached down and grabbed one of the crazy's legs. He pulled and the crazy toppled over, letting go of Park.

They all looked at the crazy for a second, watching it writhe and groan. It was struggling to get up.

“Why didn't we think of that?” said Freeda.

Groans came from all around. The screams of the patients were fading.

“We gotta get,” said Park.

“Yeah,” said Angie. “Come on.”

They ran back toward the nurse's station, Angie willing herself not to look in the patient rooms. We'll call the cops, she told herself. We'll call the cops and they'll rescue the rest of the patients.

They reached the nurse's station. Angie turned and shut the glass door to block the way they had come.

“Those nut jobs can come right through glass!” said Park.

“I told you,” said Angie as she locked the top and bottom of the door. “These are reinforced glass. They're stronger than the windows.”

Moe threw up on the floor.

“Fuck!” yelled Park.

“I'm okay,” said Moe, swaying and wiping his mouth.

“Fuck you are,” said Park.

“Come on,” said Angie. “This way.”

Angie leading the way, they rushed down another hallway. Heading for another exit door at the end of it. Patients looked at them as they passed.

“If anyone has a phone,” yelled Angie, “call the cops! Stay in your rooms and don't open the nurse's station...”

Crazies burst in the door at the end of the hall.

Angie skidded to a halt. “No!”

Glass crashed all up and down the hallway. Patients shrieked.

“No!” Angie screamed.

“They're surrounding the hospital!” yelled Freeda.

“Everyone out of your rooms!” yelled Angie. But she knew from the screams it was too late.

She looked back toward the nurse's station. Park was pulling Moe that way as fast as he could. Freeda was staring at Angie.

“Come on!” said Freeda. “We have to go!”

“The patients...” Angie started, weakly.

“It's too late,” said Freeda.

Then a little boy burst from a patient room. He shrieked and sobbed but looked unhurt. He nearly collided with Angie.

“Whoa, hey,” said Angie, trying to sound soothing despite the chaos around. She put a hand on the boy's shoulder and looked at him. She did her best to ignore the approaching crazies behind him. “Are you okay?”

“My mom!” yelled the boy. “They're eating!”

“Who...” Angie started, then Freeda screamed behind her.

Angie let go of the boy and turned. A crazy had snuck up behind Freeda. He looked like a truck driver, complete with mutton chops. One of his eyes dangled from its optic nerve, bouncing off his cheek as he struggled with Freeda.

“Freeda!” yelled Angie, moving to help. Then the little boy screamed. Angie turned to see a woman wearing a hospital gown closing her hands around the boy's head.

“Mom, no!” yelled the boy.

“Oh god!” yelled Angie, reaching for the boy. Freeda screamed and Angie turned back. The trucker's teeth had almost found skin.

Angie looked at the boy, then back at Freeda.

Back at the boy.

Then she ran to help Freeda. Her chest was tight as she grabbed the trucker's hand and bent his middle finger back. She pulled until the finger let out a harsh 'pop' and gave no more resistance. The trucker didn't respond.

Angie and Freeda struggled with the trucker. Somewhere behind them, the boy was shrieking. Oh god, oh Jesus, I'm sorry, Angie thought. She grabbed another of the trucker's fingers and broke it backward. The trucker's face showed no reaction, but his grip was now loose enough for Freeda to wriggle free.

“You okay?” said Angie, still holding the trucker's hand.

“Yep,” said Freeda, putting a foot on the trucker's side and shoving. The trucker toppled over and Angie let go.

Angie turned. The boy was gone.

“The boy...” she started.

“We have to go,” said Freeda, putting a hand on her shoulder from behind. The crazies approaching from the exit door were close now.

Angie swallowed, nodded, and turned to run back up the hall. Freeda followed.

Further up the hall, Park and Moe stood with a man who looked familiar. Park was yelling something. Angie blinked and recognized the man. Sam Shuab.

Angie and Freeda reached the arguing men.

“Listen, shithead,” Park was saying. “I don't give a shit about you or how the fuck you're getting out of here. Now let me and my friend pass!”

Sam noticed Angie. “You! How the fuck do we get out of here?”

Park took advantage of Sam's distraction and pushed past him, pulling Moe with him.

“Sir,” Angie started, “We gotta...”

“Thanks for all the help, kitten shit!” came Mr. Paulson's voice from Angie's side. She looked and saw him sitting in a wheelchair pushed by Kristen. Mr. Paulson's oxygen tank was strapped to the back of the wheelchair. Behind them, Mr. Paulson's room was in chaos. A crazy was stuck halfway in the window, impaled on a large piece of broken glass but still moving. Other crazies were trying to get in the window but were blocked by the impaled one.

Sam turned to Mr. Paulson. “For shit's sake, I'm trying to figure out the way out of here.”

“Anj...” came Freeda's worried voice from behind Angie. The crazies behind them sounded very close.

“Follow me,” said Angie, pushing past Sam. “I'll explain.”

“Who the fuck died and left you in charge?” said Sam.

“Everyone.”

She didn't look behind her, rushing to the nurse's station and assuming everyone was following her. She was right. She waited while everyone filed inside, then locked the door. She hoped no one could see her hands shaking.

She turned. Park was heading down the one remaining hall.

“That way,” said Freeda, motioning the others down it.

“Freeda, wait...” Angie started.

“What the fuck!” came Park's voice from the hallway. The others disappeared down it.

Angie sighed and followed.

The others were standing, staring at the empty hall. And at the lack of a door at the end.

“There's no door!” yelled Park.

“This hall's on a hill,” said Angie. “We only use it when the other rooms are full.”

“The windows!” yelled Freeda, racing into one of the empty patient rooms.

“How the prick am I gonna get out a window?” yelled Mr. Paulson from his wheelchair.

Freeda came back out, shaking her head. “Those people. They're all along the walls down below. They just can't get to the windows.”

Sam spun around, face deep red, and stomped to Angie. And balled up his large hand and punched her in the face.

“Bitch! You trapped us!”

“Hey!” yelled Park, letting go of Moe and running up. He punched Sam across the jaw. “The fuck's your problem?”

Sam stepped back, sputtering. “Fuck your mother's asshole, trailer trash. You know who I am?”

“I do,” said Park, then punched him again. “That's for the shitty truck.”

Angie's nose smarted. She felt blood coming. Freeda ran over to her.

“Shit, are you okay?”

Angie started to nod when Moe swayed and fell over backward.

“Moe!” yelled Park, rushing to him.

Muffled screams came from the nurse's station. Angie wiped her bloody nose and ran to see.

Behind the glass door, the little boy was lying on the floor.

“Shit!” said Angie, then went to unlock the door. She stopped, hand on the lock, when she saw the crazies behind the boy.

“Help!” the boy pleaded.

The boy's mother, eyes empty and cold, fell on the boy and bit into the back of his head. He shrieked and blood sprayed onto the glass.

“Oh god,” came Freeda's voice behind her.

Angie slid to her knees. The boy grasped weakly at the glass. Angie put her hand to his, no longer caring if anyone saw her shake and cry.