The Hospital

Getting a ride

Suddenly Michael pushed Emily to the grass and placed his hand over her mouth. "Quiet. I hear something," he whispered and carefully looked around from under a large bush surrounded by thick vegetation. It offered a good cover from unwanted attention unless someone would stumble right upon them. Numerous footsteps echoed in the shadows of nearby trees, and soon a handful of groaning and screeching human shapes rushed past them withing hands reach.

Through the tall grass, Emily watched as several infected converged on the house from all directions. Drawn by Danny's cries for help, they rushed to his screams. She felt nauseous from a mere thought of what would have happened if they hesitated a little bit longer. Snarling and elbowing each other the ghouls poured through the open doors, desperate to reach increasingly sparse food.

"Don't make a sound," Michael whispered to his wife, and after she nodded, removed his hand from her mouth. For a while, he listened to their surroundings anticipating more movement, but apart from occasional moans and loud chewing echoing from the house teeming with a bloodthirsty mob, it was quiet.

"We have to move," Michael finally said and slowly sat up. He looked around one more time and tapped Emily on the shoulder.

"Wait!" She suddenly grabbed his hand. "Where is Simon?"

"Shit," Michael cursed. They completely forgot about the boy. "I haven't seen him since we entered the house."

"Neither have I," Emily replied. "Oh, dear God, he might still be inside."

Michael shook his head. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do now, Emily. If he's in there, he's as good as dead. We have to leave while we still have a chance. Let's go."

Emily sighed with disappointment. Part of her wanted at least to try and look for Simon, but her husband was right. The boy was on his own. She quietly nodded and followed Michael out of their hideout and away from the street. The park had very few illuminated passageways, with the rest of the areas submerged in almost pitch-black darkness. Given the circumstances, it wasn't the worst thing. Heavy clouds blocked the moonlight, reducing the visibility even further, forcing them to move very slow. Occasionally Michael would stop and listen for anything unusual. He wasn't sure how well the ghouls could see in the darkness but had no desire to risk finding out.

The park sprawled across a vast area, surrounded by residential buildings. With an abundance of lush vegetation and trees for cover, they crossed it without any encounters. Michael waved Emily to stop and sat behind a large maple tree. He had to rest his leg. The twisted ankle had swollen even more, each step adding to his painful agony.

For a few minutes, he observed the street in front of them. The hospital was still a few blocks away, and he didn't fancy the idea of strolling to there. Michael searched the road for any abandoned cars but couldn't see any. Apart from a couple of neatly parked vehicles, the street was empty and since he wasn't in a car stealing business, dismissed the idea of trying to hijack one of them. At least the path ahead was free of ghouls too. Some of the street lights flickered, but most were still operational, illuminating the area too much for his liking.

"Let's stick to the shadows as much as possible," Michael instructed Emily and pointed towards the nearest intersection. "Let's get over there and check if we can find an abandoned car to get us to the hospital."

"Good idea," Emily agreed, and both carefully crossed the street towards the row of residential houses. She tried to give her husband as much support as she possibly could.

A faint single gunshot echoed somewhere in the distance, forcing both to stop and duck behind one of the staircases.

"Must be somewhere near the hospital," Michael whispered, squeezing Emily's hand. "It's a good sign. There still might be people there."

"But the sound might draw those creatures there too," Emily replied. "What if we run straight into them?"

"What choice do we have? I can barely walk as it is. Do you have a better suggestion?"

As much as Emily tried to think of their options, there weren't many. "No," she said quietly.

"Anyway, we can't stay here." Michael turned to her. "Let's try to get as close to the hospital as possible, and we will see. Just keep your eyes peeled and let me know if you notice anything."

Keeping to the shadows, they moved towards the intersection. The sore ankle slowed them down, but Michael kept his attention on their surroundings which helped put his mind off the pain, though occasional stabbing jolts reminded him of the injury. As they approached one of the buildings adjacent to the junction, Michael signalled Emily to stop and carefully peeked around the corner.

"Bingo," he said quietly and turned to his wife. "There is an abandoned car very close by. If the keys are still inside, we could drive the rest of the way."

"Are you sure about it?"

"Worth the risk. If the hospital has been overrun, we will try to leave the town." Michael replied and took another peek. "I see a few of them lurking further down the street, but if we keep quiet, they shouldn't notice us." Michael turned back to his wife and tried to produce an encouraging smile.

"Let's hope this time it works out as planned," Emily said with a pinch of scepticism. Their last endeavour almost ended in a complete disaster.

Michael didn't reply straight away. The heavy burden of guilt already pressed his shoulders, but now wasn't the time to dwell on the failures. "Just stay behind me," he said briefly and sneaked around the corner.

Red "Ford Focus" lay abandoned approximately twenty yards ahead with front passenger door wide open. Front wheels had hit the sidewalk curb, but Michael couldn't see any severe damage from where he was. Emily followed right behind her husband. Few times Michael stopped and checked the area ahead. He could see few more abandoned vehicles down the road but with a handful of ghouls lingering around them dismissed the idea of pushing their luck in case they couldn't get "Ford" running. Finally, Michael approached the driver's door and carefully opened it. As he did, a hand reached out, and grey fingers firmly latched on the side of his jacket. A moan erupted from inside of the car while the reanimated tried to snatch Michael with a second hand but with the seatbelt still on couldn't reach him.

"Michael!" Emily instinctively grabbed her husband by the collar and pulled away from the door.

"Goddammit!" Michael cursed as both fell to the sidewalk, freeing him from the zombie's grip. His heart raced as he pulled out the knife, ready to strike. The woman strapped in the car groaned again, reaching out but unable to move. Her right shoulder was stripped to the bone, clutches of muscle tissue hang loose. Sitting in the dried pool of her blood, she made enough noise for the ghouls lingering further down the road to take notice. Their collective moans echoed in return.

"I don't like the sound of it!" Michael jumped to his feet. He noticed all three infected already moving in their general direction. Still unable to pinpoint the location of the noise the ghouls shuffled around, snarling and groaning at each other. The woman moaned again, this time louder. She desperately clutched at the air while squirming in her seat. Michael leaned forward and plunged his knife through her open mouth to make her stop. She did, but not before the reanimated heard her, and this time all three of them instantly picked up their pace towards the car.

"Shit." Michael cursed and kneeled behind the hood. "They are coming here."

"We need to leave then." Emily pulled his hand.

Michael's mind raced in search of a solution. One thing was obvious - there was no way to outrun them with his injured ankle. He frantically looked around. "Ford" was their only cover. If they try to get away, the ghouls will see them. Michael turned to Emily. "Listen, you will have to run. I will hold them back as long as I can."

"In hell, I will," Emily hissed at him.

"For the love of God, please don't argue. We can't outrun them together." Michael pushed his wife away, encouraging her to get ready. "Just wait till I get their attention."

Emily didn't listen. She crawled to the back of the car and looked around. "In there!" She suddenly pointed at the gap between two buildings to their right. "We can hide there!"

"It's a dead-end, Emily." Michael tried to protest. "With no way out."

One of the reanimated screeched, this time much closer. The creatures were nearly upon them.

"I'm not leaving you, fool!" Emily got angry. "Listen for once!" She grabbed Michael by the hand and pulled away from the car. They vanished in the shadow of the narrow alley just as the ghouls approached the vehicle.

"Behind the bin!" Emily pointed towards a large waste container resting by the wall. Without hesitation, she shoved Michael behind the cover and kneeled next to him. Exhausted both mentally and physically, they sat in silence, listening to the moans emanating from the street. As Michael said, it was a dead end. There were no backdoors or fire stairs to offer an escape route. Michael signalled Emily to swap places and carefully peeked to the street. He cursed with disappointment. Having lost their track, the infected now aimlessly shuffled around, blocking their only way out.

"Just bloody great," he mumbled and leaned against the cold container wall.

"So, what now?" Emily asked quietly.

"I warned you it was a bad idea," Michael replied, massaging his ankle. "We can't get away and can't get past them without a fight. And all we have is this crappy knife."

"Your plan to kill yourself wasn't any better," Emily mumbled.

"At least you would have had a chance."

"Enough of this nonsense. I am not leaving you. Period." Emily said abruptly, ending the brewing argument.

"You are right. We can argue later. Right now there isn't much we can do," Michael replied. "Let's keep it quiet and hope they will wander away eventually."

"And what if they don't?"

"I'll figure something out," Michael said and rubbed his wife's shoulder, trying to comfort her. But their options were limited. Trapped with only a kitchen knife to defend themselves didn't precisely offer many alternatives.

"My leg is killing me," Michael groaned and stretched the injured leg, hitting an empty bottle neither of them could see in the darkness. The glass bottle rolled across the pavement, hit the wall and cracked loud enough for the infected to hear the noise. Two of them instantly turned to the alley and slowly started moving towards the far end of it.

"Crap," Michael cursed and instinctively peeked around the corned again, squeezing the handle of the knife. Both creatures slowly shuffled towards them. He turned back to his wife and whispered. "Looks like this is the end of the road. Stay behind me. I love you."

Something dropped to the ground. One of the infected moaned in the background and suddenly fell silent. Another thump echoed as if the body just hit the pavement. Savouring the moment of surprise, Michael prepared to strike just as the mangled frame of the ghoul came to his view. The reanimated slowly turned his head and locked his gaze on Michael. Zombie opened his mouth when a gloved hand emerged from the shadows and pressed against the left side of the ghoul's head while the second hand plunged the knife's blade through his right temple. The infected croaked and collapsed to the ground, his milky orbs still starring at Michael.

"That's the last of them," a muffled voice said while a black biker's helmet popped around the corner and looked at the couple.

"Well, hello there. Hope I'm not interrupting anything?" the man behind the helmet said and stepped in front of Michael. He was of a sturdy build, dressed up in an unorthodox manner. Thick winter coat with a high collar covered every inch of the neck and upper body. With the addition of heavy-duty workwear trousers tucked inside tall safety boots, he looked somewhat odd. The man wiped the knife's blade against the corpse, sheathed it back into the holster attached to his right leg and raised the helmet's shield revealing a wide bearded smile.

"By all means," Michael mumbled and carefully lowered his knife, still unsure what to think of it. He noticed a rifle slung over the man's shoulder.

"Thank god," Emily whispered, finally remembering to breathe.

"What's with the leg?" the stranger asked, pointing to Michael's ankle. Despite the shadows, he noticed the swelling. "Have you been bit?"

"No, just twisted." Michael shook his head.

"Lucky bastard," the man said.

"I beg to differ," Michael grunted trying to stand up.

"Elliot, we have to leave! I see movement up the road!" another voice echoed from the street.

"Got it." Elliot replied and added, "Well, unless you folks prefer to stay here I suggest we get moving."

"Who are you?"

"Ah, where are my manners? My name is Elliot. That prick over there," he nodded towards the entrance to the alley, "is my brother Marcus."

"Nice to meet you. I am Michael, and this is my wife, Emily."

"Pleasure ma'am," Elliot nodded to Emily.

"I am serious! We have to bugger out! Now!" Marcus hissed this time louder.

"Let's leave the pleasantries for later." Elliot stepped closer and helped Michael to get up.

To be continued