The Real Night of the Living Dead Read online

  “All right,” said Hank. “Come on. We gotta jump out.”

  Cochran was looking at the slow movers walking in the direction of the ward. He said, “Don’t you think we should take care of those few? So they are not banging at the door in a few minutes, terrifying the others.”

  Me and Hank looked at each other. Hank said, “He’s right. We should get rid of them now. That way, they’re out of the equation, and we don’t gotta worry about them trying to get in the ward.”

  I agreed.

  Hank left the window open, and we ran down the hallway, approaching the group of about five dead people.

  We were fifteen feet away from the door, where they had emerged only moments ago, when we heard the roar of running footsteps.

  We stopped in our tracks.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The door was pushed open and infected women in hospital gowns were gushing out, into the hall, and moving in both directions.

  For a moment, we were all in shock, standing still. But one look at those eyes sent us running back to the window. Me and the professor were in front. Hank and Cochran were behind us. I was so scared, I was screaming as I ran. I didn’t look back to see how close they were, but I could hear them screaming.

  I reached the window first. I didn’t stop or slow down to see how long the drop was, or if there were creatures out there. I just jumped.

  I landed on the asphalt in the parking lot. My hands hitting first, then I rolled a few times. I stood up quick, looked around, didn’t see any of the creatures.

  My eyes went to the window.

  The professor was hanging onto the sill, stretching out his body so that the fall wasn’t too high. I could hear Hank screaming for him to drop, then Hank ripped his hand from the sill, and the professor came crashing to the ground.

  Not even five seconds later, Hank came falling out, followed by Cochran, who was holding onto Hank. They both crashed together on top of the professor’s arm, causing him to scream in agony.

  The men got to their feet. The screams from the hallway were getting louder.

  We ran as the women began falling, not jumping, out of the window. They just fell. Like rag dolls.

  Some of them were right back on their feet, running behind us. Others seemed to have suffered broken legs from the fall and were left to crawl in our direction. A few had landed on their heads and wound up killing themselves for good. But they still continued to pour out of the window onto the ground below.

  As we turned the corner of the building, I stole a last glance of the window from where we emerged and estimated that there had to be at least fifty of those creatures on the ground. Half of them were running after us.

  We were approaching the entrance of the parking lot. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the small group, that me and Dallas encountered, still banging on the front door of N-7. We grabbed their attention, and they joined the chase.

  Once we exited the parking lot and ran down the road of the campus, the rain began to pick up. The drops were heavy and were smacking us in the face as we hustled down the road. Our destination of the guard house was about a half mile away. Most of which would be mud and grass as this road didn’t head directly down to the boulevard. It wrapped around the campus.

  We came to a fork in the road, made a right, and continued running. We had maybe another fifty yards or so, then the road would curve back in the direction of N-5. At that point, we would have to leave the road and take the farmland.

  I was breathing hard. A few times I just wanted to give up, but the thought of Clara, and hearing those screams behind me, gave me the energy I needed to continue. I was leading the pack. The professor was in pretty good shape for an older man; he managed to stay right by my side. Hank and Cochran were a few feet behind us. I could hear Hank huffing and puffing, sounding like his lungs were going to collapse.

  The next curve in the road was here. We ran off the road and continued running in the muddy grass. I could hear my boots squishing the water out of the soaking wet terrain.

  The road was lined with scattered street lamps. The parking lots had a few too. This gave us enough light to see where we were headed as we ran.

  Then I blinked, and the darkness swallowed the campus.

  The storm knocked out the power again.

  Hank screamed and coughed, upset at not being able to see in front of us. His breathing was getting worse. The poor son of a bitch was going down any minute.

  Then I was relieved to see the bouncing beam of light, coming from behind me and dancing in front of us. Hank had turned it on to guide us.

  The screams of the creatures were strong, but had died down, only slightly.

  “Stop! Stop…I can’t” said Hank.

  The beam of light was pulled from in front of us.

  I stopped and looked back to see Hank wasn’t running. He was breathing heavy, staring at the infected.

  The creatures were about twenty yards behind and approaching fast.

  Cochran had also stopped and was standing beside Hank.

  The professor was still running.

  “Come on,” I said. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I gotta catch my breath,” said Hank, as he kept the flashlight on the approaching mob. “I feel like I’m about to die.”

  “If you don’t get moving then you will die.”

  His chest was moving up and down, up and down, as he raised his revolver and began firing at the creatures. A few of the bullets were head shots and dropped the infected women, but some, maybe three, missed and hit in the shoulder, neck, one even hit in the mouth, but the creature kept moving. However, even the missed shots still slowed them down. They dropped and took about a minute to get back on their feet.

  I saw the creatures closing in.

  Then everything went black.

  Hank’s trusty flashlight…died.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Hank fired another two shots in the dark, and the flash from the muzzle gave us a tease of what was on our asses.

  The screams got loud again as the infected people grew excited.

  He tried firing another shot, and I could hear the clicking of the gun. It was empty.

  I ran.

  Someone else behind me was running. I wasn’t sure who.

  But then, I heard someone screaming. It wasn’t the screams of the creatures, but the screams of someone being eaten alive. A man screaming for help as his flesh was being torn from his body. So brutal it was to hear a scream like that.

  I didn’t know if it was Hank or Doctor Cochran. But I knew it was one of the two. It had to be. The professor never stopped running. For someone who was considered insane he made the sanest move of all of us.

  My legs kept moving. I didn’t want to die.

  Most of the screams of the creatures were left further and further in the distance as I continued running. Only a few were still on my tail. And the man following me had a hard time keeping up.

  Then I heard the heavy breathing again, and it all but confirmed it for me that Hank had survived and Cochran was the one being slaughtered back there in the field.

  Running, I couldn’t see anything in front of me. It was black. But I knew to keep straight without turning. Eventually, I would reach the guard houses on Roosevelt Boulevard.

  As I grew closer, faint screams were heard in the distance. But they weren’t behind me. These screams were coming from in front of me, from the west. I thought, these must have been more infected women spreading throughout N-3, N-5 and the other buildings on that side of the hospital’s campus. I just prayed that they hadn’t reached the children’s camp.

  It was still dark, but I knew the guard houses were close. I continued moving.

  I began to see what appeared to be the beam from a flashlight about fifty feet away. I wondered who it was. It seemed to be around the area of the guard houses, so I decided to head for it.

  As I approached the beam, I heard a voice say, “My boy, it�
�s me. I’m glad to see you made it.” The professor pointed the flashlight at the ground, so that I wouldn’t trip on the steps leading up to the door of the guard house.

  I said, “Where’d you find the flashlight?”

  “It was right here in front of the door.”

  “Keep it pointing in the field. Hank is on his way.”

  “What became of Doctor Cochran?”

  I hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’m not sure he made it…I heard screams.”

  “What a shame,” he said, staring into the darkness. “How will I ever get to my wife now?”

  I placed my hand over his shoulder and said, “I’ll take you. Stick with me, Professor.”

  We saw a heavy set man’s silhouette running across the beam of light. It was Hank, panting as he said, “In the house. Now. They’re coming.”

  Without saying a word, Hank snatched the flashlight out of the professor’s hand, pushed past us both and opened the door to the guard house.

  We followed him inside.

  He shined the light on us as we entered. “Lock that door,” he said.

  I locked it and said, “How close are they?”

  Hank was beginning to catch his breath as he placed the flashlight, still on, on the desk by the door. “A couple hundred feet away. They were slowing down across the field. A lot of them stayed with the doc.”

  “He’s dead?” I said, wanting to be sure.

  “Yeah,” Hank said, nodding. Then his fist came crashing into my eye. I saw a flash of white as I felt myself drifting back and tripping over the chair; the beam of light shaking as I rocked the desk. He picked me from the floor and punched me in the mouth.

  My lip slashed open against the edge of my teeth, and the blood began to fill in my mouth. Pain started shooting through my gums. I pressed my tongue against my front teeth and could feel that one of them was loose.

  “Doc’s dead,” said Hank, as he held me close to him with his hands clenched on my T-shirt. “That’s not good. That means I don’t get my money, or my recognition. Also means youse two,” his eyes looking to the professor, then back at me, “are about to check out. That’s right, convict. Your little suicide mission to save that broad is getting cut short…And so are you.”

  “Leave him be,” said the professor.

  “Shut up, screw, ‘cause you’re next.” His attention was back to me as he said, “You think you can do what you did to me and get away with it?” He waited for an answer. I didn’t say a thing. Just stared at him with my swelling eye. He smashed his head into my forehead. It hit so hard, I thought he used a sledge hammer.

  I dropped to the floor.

  I think I was out cold for a few seconds. When I opened my eyes, Hank was standing at a cabinet, at the other end of the room, with the flashlight. I tried to stand, but my head was spinning. I dropped right back to the floor.

  He was walking back toward me now, the flashlight in one hand and a revolver in the other.

  The gun was aimed at me.

  That’s when the door opened.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  We all looked to the door, expecting to be attacked.

  My head was still spinning. All I could make out was a lantern. “What in the hell is going on?” His name was Eugene. He was the head guard, about sixty years old, but looked at least seventy. His eyes were on Hank as he entered the house, watching Hank pointing the gun.

  “Everything,” said Hank.

  “Why’re you pointing that piece?”

  “I…I thought you were those sickos,” said Hank.

  “Well I’m not,” said Eugene, as he shut the door, “so put it away before you hurt somebody.”

  I was still on the floor. I looked at Hank, my head beginning to feel a little better, and saw him placing the revolver in his side holster.

  “You all right, fella?”

  I looked and saw Eugene staring at me. His lantern was resting on the desk now. I nodded. I was about to speak when Hank opened his big mouth, saying, “He’s fine. Guy’s been fighting these things all night. They’re getting the best of him. Ain’t that right, convict?”

  My eyes went to Hank. God, I wanted so bad to knock his teeth out with one shot.

  The professor was standing at the wall across from me, beside Eugene. He was calm as he said, “Sir, there is a truth here that is not being exposed.”

  “What?” said Eugene, looking at the professor, confused.

  “Your apprentice was about to assassinate this young man.”

  Eugene was squinting at the professor. “What the Christ is a appendix?”

  “Him,” said the professor, motioning with his head toward the fat security guard. “Your understudy, your coworker, he was going to…uh ‘rub-out’, as they say, this young man here.”

  Hank jumped right in, saying, “That’s a load of hogwash. Don’t listen to this cretin. He’s been walking around with a wet gown all night. The cold’s probably affecting his already retarded brain.”

  Eugene’s eyes wandered between the three of us. Then he came over and helped me into the chair at the desk. I patted his shoulder and thanked him. He said, “Hank, grab a couple a chairs from the back room for you and the patient here.”

  Hank hesitated, but left and came back with two chairs. He shoved one to the professor, and they sat down, against the wall. Eugene was sitting in another chair at the desk, with me. From his shirt pocket, he pulled out a pouch of tobacco and a pack of Tip Top cigarette paper. He started rolling up cigarettes and handing them to each of us as he said, “I know about the patients breaking out. About them attacking everyone.” He paused. “A car pulled up earlier. Nearly drove right into the house here. Me and Loyal ran outside to see what all the fuss was. An attendant. Said he was at N-5 when a patient came in and started attacking anyone in sight. Biting them. He said he managed to run out, but that people were still being attacked. Told us to get help, he was leaving and said he quit. Then he drove away. We tried calling the other buildings to see if this was true, but the phones were out.”

  “We know,” I said. “We’ve been trying ever since this mess began.”

  “So, anyhow, I told Loyal to get in the car and drive over to N-5. Check it out. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

  Hank said, as he drew on his cigarette, “I didn’t see Loyal or the car at N-5. My guess is, he got caught up before he could make it there.”

  “If he stopped at the women’s buildings,” I said, “then he’s probably in a load of trouble.”

  “What exactly is going on?” Eugene said, rolling himself another cigarette. “How many people are involved in this breakout?”

  “This isn’t exactly a breakout,” I said. “It’s more like a man-made disaster. And if we don’t get help quick, not only are the thousands of people on this campus in danger of being killed, but so are people in the surrounding counties.”

  Eugene’s eyes widened. “What’s he talking about, Hank?” Hank went on to tell him about the “sickness”, as he called it, spreading, explaining it to Eugene the same way he did to the nurses at the dormitory.

  “The whole reason why we’re here,” said Hank. “We came for some guns. We had a doctor with us. He was gonna head back to N-7 with weapons to help protect the people held up in there, but those sick people got a hold of him. As far as we know, he’s dead. I was going with the convict to the chil…”

  The window in front of the desk exploded.

  Broken glass was flying in all directions as an infected woman landed right on the desk.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  We all screamed and jumped out of our chairs.

  The broken glass got in my hair, and a piece of it left a small gash on my cheek.

  Eugene screamed. I looked and saw a shard of glass, about an inch long, sticking out the corner of his eye. His hand covered it as blood began to trickle down his face.

  The creature was lying face down on the desk. Her hospital gown was wet from the rain,
but I could still make out the urine stains and the obvious blood stains near her shoulders where at least four bites were. She was slow pushing herself up. Moaning as she struggled.

  Hank pulled out his gun and pointed it to her head.

  Then another infected woman appeared. She grabbed onto the frame of the broken window. I could see that these maniacs must not have felt any pain, because her hands wrapped over a large piece of glass, sticking out of the frame, and it dug deep into her hand, and she didn’t even wince. Her attention was on us. That was all that mattered to her.

  At the same time that Hank fired his shot, the first infected woman slipped on shards of glass that covered the desk and fell to the floor. The bullet passed her and hit the second infected woman in her shin.

  He pointed at the second woman. Aimed and fired a shot in her forehead. She yelped and fell back, onto the ground outside.

  The lights came back on again.

  We all squinted. We had gotten use to the dark, and our eyes needed to adjust back to the bright light.

  Hank rubbed his eyes. The first infected woman was on the ground and clinching onto his pant leg. Hank panicked and fired three shots into her head and neck.

  Dead.

  The scare had brought me back. The dizziness in my head was gone. I moved the desk away from the window and peeked outside. There were two more creatures approaching. I looked back to Hank and said, “Two more.”

  He came. I stepped out of his way. He fired two shots. Both were direct hits.

  I stepped to Eugene and looked at his injured eye. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded as he said, “Yeah. Think you can pull out the glass?”

  “Do you want me to?” I said. “I’m afraid I might make it worse.”

  “Go ahead. We have a first aid kit. I’ll do the best I can at bandaging it.”