Wheels and Zombies (Book 1): Ash Read online

  The sergeant kneeled beside me as I wiped my mouth with the collar of my hospital gown.

  “I’m so sorry, kid,” she said, her hand on mine. Her words triggered a spark of anger. I jerked from her grasp and rolled the wheelchair out of her reach.

  “I’m not a kid, and I’m not going to be your lab rat,” I said caustically. I could see the hurt in her eyes, the trouble she had with what she was supposed to do, but it didn’t mean she wouldn’t.

  The sergeant got to her feet and shot a glance over her shoulder as the noises reached a new level. A gunshot rang out.

  | 4

  Shouts, screams, and gunfire erupted from around the corner. The sergeant gripped her rifle and had it pointed at the end of the hallway in an instance. A body, dressed in a similar style as the sergeant, flung itself around the corner, stumbling to the ground. On hands and feet, the soldier struggled to get upright. Another body cornered the hall, walking backward with careful steps, his back turned to us, his rifle firing short bursts. Shooters with a constant finger on their trigger remained unseen, but the violent rat-tat-tat of automatic machine gunfire alerted us to their presence. Something had the soldiers on the defense, and I couldn’t believe it to be the family members.

  That first soldier came running at us, shouting the sergeant’s name. “Sergeant Meadow, they’re here, they’re here!” The fear in the young man’s voice didn’t fit with the assault gear he carried.

  “Calm down, Burke,” Sergeant Meadow called out over the man’s whining.

  The second soldier pulled his rifle from around the corner when a body slid across the linoleum and slammed into the wall. Blood smeared where the body had left a track. A ragged-looking figure jumped the lifeless form and started ripping with its teeth at the dead man’s clothes. The figure growled in frustration when it couldn’t get through the layers of clothes. My mouth gaped at the rage that poured from the man and the blood that ran down his mouth.

  The second soldier retreated to us, reloading his gun when two more figures came into view. I gasped at the sight. Along with the man still tearing at the dead man’s clothes, these two new figures looked like the scrambling people in the streets of Manhattan that I had seen in the broadcast.

  “Get down,” Sergeant Meadow shouted. She fired several shots after the two approaching soldiers ducked to a side. “Not-a-kid-”—she nodded at the elevator—“press the down button, will ya?”

  I looked at her, confused, but I did as she asked. Everything inside screamed for me to turn around and roll my chair as fast as I could to get away from the sergeant and her band of gunslingers, but what good would that do me?

  Additional figures strode into our hallway. Among them, I spotted Maggie’s husband with his short, bulky features. Blood covered his white shirt. He drew his nose into the air and stretched his mouth wide open. His nostrils flared as he sucked in air. Followed by several others, he came running at us at an impressive speed for a man his size.

  The second soldier had managed to reload his weapon. He turned to fire several bursts of bullets, followed by the report of Sergeant Meadow’s rifle. Burke skidded to a stop in front of me and then shoved my chair back.

  “Hey,” I yelled at him. Franticly, he started to jab at the elevator buttons.

  “Come on, come on,” he repeated under his breath. I maneuvered my chair so I could glance around the chanting soldier.

  Bullets fired by the second soldier tore into a woman’s chest. Her body jerked, and her pink nurse’s uniform turned red in places where the bullets had struck. Except for the hair put up and pinned to her skull, not much of the self-confident woman who used to be Nurse Patterson remained. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, and a white, milky film swam across her irises. Like all the raging people hurtling for us from the end of the hall, she too had those creepy white eyes. I gripped the armrest so hard that the muscles in my arms started to protest. Nurse Patterson had been a nuisance over the years, but now she just scared me.

  Bam, bam, Nurse Patterson’s head splashed open in a haze of blood.

  “Go for the head, Jonesy,” Sergeant Meadow said. The second soldier, apparently called Jonesy nodded.

  Even more crazy-acting people filled up the hall, cramming into the space like sardines in a can. They didn’t seem to have any concern for their own well-being as they slammed into beds that stood as hurdles in their path while others trampled over the fallen bodies.

  Jonesy fired several more shots before the elevator dinged.

  “Thank God,” Burke said, clawing at the doors to help them open faster. With that, he nearly knocked me over by bumping into me. Before I could curse him to hell and back, Chuck grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall.

  “Listen, you little piece shit,” he said. “If you touch that girl one more time, I will rip your throat out myself.” Blood drained from Burke’s face.

  “God dammit, Burke. Get a grip. You’re supposed to be a soldier,” Sergeant Meadow shouted at the man.

  Chuck half shoved, half threw Burke inside the elevator box. Chuck breathed hard as his hand gripped the railing of one of the abandoned empty beds that cluttered the hallway. He looked at me in concern. I could only grin up at the man. The exertion had knocked the wind out of him, and he relied heavily on the oxygen provided by the cart, but in my book, he was awesome.

  Jonesy ushered my chair inside after Chuck, and Sergeant Meadow crammed in last. She kept firing her rifle until the doors closed. When motion set in, she hit the emergency stop.

  Her eyes went around the box after she had reloaded her weapon, eyeing each of us for just a moment. She stopped with Burke and said, “What the hell happened back there?”

  The man started rattling incomprehensible sentences that might have made sense to a ten-month-old. Meadow slapped him in the face.

  “Is he on drugs or something?” she asked Jonesy. Jonesy shrugged in return. The slap seemed to have calmed Burke down, and he slumped against the wall.

  “Anyone mind telling me what happened?” Meadow said in an unamused tone.

  “One of the elevators on the south side opened, and a bunch of infected swarmed out where we had placed the families,” Jonesy said. “We were cut off from the rest and bolted.”

  Meadow took a deep breath before she spoke. “We have to assume the hospital is compromised. Is underground parking still our rendezvous point?” Jonesy nodded.

  “Anyone have a radio?” she asked. Both men eyed each other for a moment before their gazes dropped to the floor. Sergeant Meadow didn't berate the men for not having radios, probably because she didn't have one herself.

  She continued. “Okay, we're heading down. Without contact, we won't know what we'll find …” She paused for a second to look at Chuck and me. “You two stay back. We’ll take the lead.”

  Chuck cocked his head and glanced sideways at Burke.

  “Sure …” Burke said elongating the word, confirming to be the ten-month-old I’d thought him to be. The three soldiers maneuvered to the front as Meadow released the emergency stop.

  Agonizingly slow, the digital numbers counted down. The woman and the two men stood tall, weapons raised, ready to pounce. Well, at least, two of them did. Burke looked as if he was about to soil himself. The elevator descended while the tension in the tiny room rose. The low hum of the elevator did nothing to cover the sound of my pounding heart. At the touch of Chuck’s hand on my shoulder, I looked up. His mouth curved in to a comforting smile unobscured by his wrinkled face.

  “Don’t worry, half pint. It’ll be okay,” he said. I managed to smile, but I didn’t feel okay. My stomach churned, and the taste of bile remained at the back of my throat. My body felt tired, and I longed for my bed. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that we were actually on the run from people gone crazy. The rage reflected upon those people’s faces scared me.

  The number changed again as I eyed the door. It wouldn’t matter what we found beyond that elevator door—it would b
e all bad. If the ground floor turned out to be empty, these soldiers would roll us out and load us onto a bus. If the room ended up filled with crazies, we would likely die inside this box. It made me wonder what was worse. Death by a crazy person or death by needle poking?

  I held my breath when the elevator came to a stop and dinged. The soldiers tightened their grips on their rifles as the doors slid open.

  It seemed I had gotten my wish. The elevator revealed a partial view of the main entry to the hospital. The open space purposely designed with a lot of windows showed the start of a bright sunny day. I could see parts of the maroon-colored seating areas and an information desk decorated in that same hideous color. I imagined I would have been able to see the massive revolving doors or grainy pillars that held up the second-floor balcony, but it all remained obscured, blocked by dozens of legs. Sitting in my chair limited my view, but I had always been on the short side. It had its perks.

  With a little pout on my face, I would usually be able to get what I wanted. Like the last day I spent with my sister. She had snuck us out, and we’d gone to a movie theater, except we had forgotten to bring any money. That little pout had gone a long way with the ticket officer. Combined with my tiny stature in an oversized wheelchair, my sister’s bald head—my hair was still a long blond, nearly white—it hadn’t taken much to convince the man to let us in without paying. We’d even managed two Cokes and a large tub of popcorn. The only problem had been that because I looked like a nine-year-old, we’d had to sit through a Disney movie. But that didn’t matter, I had a blast.

  It took a second for the crazies to react, but then a couple of them stuck their noses in the air. Nostrils flared, and as if synchronized, their gazes shifted to the open door. They looked ominous, with their foggy white eyes, shuffling from foot to foot. Some of them had lacerations on their faces and arms. Blood had spread on their clothes like ink stains. Mouths opened slowly, as if in slow motion, to stretch out wide, and then they surged for the open doors. For us!

  Meadow was already slamming the button, but it seemed to take forever for the elevator doors to close. Jonesy fired his weapon, bam, bam, bam, and bodies slumped to the ground. My eyes widened at the outstretched arms and bony fingers that reached for us. Every time one of them came too close, Meadow or Jonesy would fire a couple of rounds. Even Burke managed to get in a shot or two. Blood along with brain matter sprayed the room, and the white and maroon patterns of the tiled floor became a dark, almost black, crimson.

  Chuck tightened his grip on my shoulder. My hands gripped the wheels of my chair as if my life depended on it. Maybe being eaten by the crazies wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  Finally, the doors started to close. A mutilated face with a soggy hole for an eye tried to follow us. Before it actually reached the doors, Jonesy carelessly placed his handgun in the center of its head and pulled the trigger. The head snapped back. Jonesy jerked his hand back inside the elevator and the doors closed.

  As soon as the elevator had lifted from the ground, Meadow slammed the emergency brake. “Everyone all right?” she asked, glancing around the box.

  “Just peachy,” Chuck said between wheezy breaths. I released the breath I was holding, and nodded. Burke repeated a frantic “yeah, yeah, yeah,” and Jonesy shrugged. Apparently, he wasn’t a man of many words.

  Meadow checked her weapon. For a brief moment, her eyes went to the row of buttons indicating the available floors, and I guessed she must have noticed the lack of sublevel buttons.

  “I suppose we won’t be able to get to the parking garage in this box?” she said.

  “Nope,” Jonesy replied.

  “Suggestions,” Meadow said. “Anyone know the layout of this place?” The soldiers looked at each other, but none of them answered. I raised a trembling hand.

  “I know my way around.”

  Chuck included, everyone inside the elevator looked at me as if I had something nasty up my nose. Meadow managed to kneel down in the tight space.

  “I used to sneak out of here with my sister,” I added. She narrowed her eyes at me. Her expression showed doubt, and why wouldn't she doubt me? In her eyes, I was only a kid in a wheelchair.

  Still, I was surprised to hear her say, “What’s on your mind, not-a-kid?” I bit my lip to stifle a grin.

  “Call me Ash,” I said.

  Meadow looked up at the other three. “We’re close enough to smell each other. I guess introductions are in order.” She held her hand out.

  “Angie,” she said when I took her hand to shake it. She pointed out the other men. “Private Taylor Burke and Private First Class Xander Jones.”

  Jonesy held out his hand and said, “With an X, but call me Jonesy.” He had a clean-shaven face, and his grin showed a row of white teeth. Most of his face remained hidden behind dark shades and a helmet, although the expression on his mouth looked sincere.

  Chuck introduced himself as Charles West, but he preferred Chuck. Burke just about squeaked his own name when Chuck offered to shake his hand. It could be just me, but it looked like Burke felt a little intimidated by Chuck. This wasn't a surprise, remembering the way Chuck had slammed him into the wall.

  “Okay, introductions made, let’s hear it, Ash,” Angie said. The fact she was willing to hear me out without dismissing me as a little kid boosted my confidence and raised my opinion of her. I had to remind myself that she had an agenda, and it wasn't just to get us out. It was to hand Chuck and me over to some military lab. The fact that I started to like her shouldn't make me less cautious.

  With tightness in my chest, I started to explain. I wasn’t eager to tell them that only the elevators closest to the entry in the main hall reached the sublevel parking garage, but that we could take the stairs. Those stairs went up to the second floor, so we didn’t have to get to them through the main hall.

  “We could go up to the second floor, find the stairs, and then make our way down to the sublevel. It shouldn’t be too hard…” I said, but trailed off as I thought about it. The stairs probably had fewer crazies, but it would also mean that we’d meet up with the rest of the military convoy ready to take us God knows where, to do God knows what.

  “Second floor, it is,” Angie said.

  | 5

  The elevator door dinged and opened with a whoosh. As before, the soldiers stood ready with their guns, but as far as we could see through the opening, the coast looked clear. Jonesy took point and veered to the left. Burke, who seemed to have reclaimed his composure, took the right. Angie hung back with Chuck and me.

  “Mr. West—” she started to say, but Chuck cut her off.

  “It’s Chuck, sweetheart,” he said. The old coot managed it with such flare that it made Angie blush. She cleared her throat.

  “Chuck, I would like you to stick with Ash.” She pulled the handgun from her holster and handed it to the old man. “Don’t show it to the others if you don’t have to, but don’t hesitate to use it on the infected, even if they tend to act differently.”

  I gaped at the exchange. I imagined it was a risk for Angie to hand her gun to a stranger. It made me like her a whole lot more. Chuck cocked his head when he took the gun.

  “What do you mean, act strangely?” he asked. Angie let out a breath.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” With a glance over her shoulder, she stepped out of the elevator and followed Jonesy. Chuck looked down at me with a smile.

  “I like her,” he said while he pocketed the gun in his ugly brown robe.

  Chuck hooked his oxygen cart onto the back of my chair and pushed me out of the elevator.

  “I can do it myself,” I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

  “Sergeant Meadow ordered me to stick to you, and that’s what I’ll do,” he replied. “I’ve never been one to defy orders.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of these military types.”

  “I might have been a private once,” Chuck answered. I looked up at his wrinkled face and shoo
k my head.

  The door to the elevator had opened into a short hallway that would lead to the second-floor balcony. The balcony rounded above the entire main entry. I used to like sitting there, watching the people bustling below. A lot of them would be visiting a friend or family member who’d been admitted. On some you could see the tension in their shoulders as they sat down with a cup of coffee in the seating areas, waiting for news brought by some doctor. Even from up on the balcony, I could sometimes sense their fear and feel their relief when the doctor would bring good news.

  From my visits, I knew the balcony merged with several side corridors, providing access to the different parts of the hospital and, of course, the staircase that would lead down to the sublevel parking garage. Frosted-glass doors at the end of the short hall denied us a view of the balcony itself and the marked exit doors.

  Angie pointed to a seating area that wasn’t more than a bunch of plastic chairs bolted to the wall.

  “You stay put. I’ll check it out,” she said in a whisper.

  Chuck seemed grateful at a chance to sit, and he unhooked his cart from my chair. I scooted close to him while Jonesy kneeled nearby, his gun at the ready. Angie shot Burke a look that even I could tell meant he’d better not fuck up before she turned on her heels and set off in the direction of the frosted-glass doors.

  I watched her ease open the doors and poke her head through. A moment later she was out of sight. That seemed to unnerve Burke because he started pacing the short hallway. Jonesy popped a strip of chewing gum into his mouth. He offered Chuck and me a piece, but we both declined. He kept a wary eye on Burke while he scanned the area.

  Every other second I threw an anxious glance at the frosted-glass doors. I guessed Angie’s departure had put me off balance me as much as it had Burke. I took comfort in her ability to maintain a level head, and I liked her for not dismissing me as just a kid. It screwed with my head that on one weird level: I trusted her with my life, though I knew she’d put me on a bus the minute this was over.