The Hospital

Hard Choices

Laura Stanton woke up from loud banging on her front door in the early hours of the morning. She was a late sleeper and didn't appreciate such abruptness of her daily routine one bit.

"Oh, for goodness sake," she moaned getting out of the bed. She took time to slip into her dated light pink bathrobe, slowly wobbled towards the bedroom door and opened it, shouting, "What is going on down there? It's 3 a.m., for Christ's sake!"

But the bashing wouldn't stop, and she had no choice but to drag her old bones downstairs to see what all the commotion was about. As Laura approached the front door, the banging suddenly stopped.

"In a moment!" Laura mumbled fiddling with the lock. It was old, like her. She should have changed it ages ago but just never got to do it. While her clumsy fingers struggled to open the door, Laura could hear other, more distant noises outside which seemed like people screaming, even guns fired. However, she thought to herself it must be just her still sleepy ears hearing things. Laura finally managed to unlock the door and opened it with words, "I hope this is something important, or else I…..". She didn't finish the sentence as the words got stuck in her throat. On her front porch, a stranger was kneeling next to some woman and eating her face. The man didn't seem to notice Laura standing just a few feet away, too preoccupied with his meal. His victim was still alive, her body twitching as blood gushed from the open wounds on the throat and neck.

"Oh my…..", Laura gasped quietly yet loud enough for the man to take notice. He suddenly turned his head and looked straight at her. His milky eyes didn't blink; blood dripped through the chin as he chewed on the piece of his victim's flesh in his right hand.

For a brief moment, the old lady just stared back at him holding her breath. She slowly took a step back, her left hand frantically searching for the doorknob. Still unsure if she wasn't hallucinating Laura followed her basic instinct. And the instinct deep inside her screamed to seek safety. Finally, she found the handle and tried to shut the door. She was too slow. The man leapt from his seated position towards her and slammed into the entryway right before she could close it.

The impact sent Laura flying against the staircase behind her. Gasping, she tried to stand up, any trace of sleepiness gone in a flash. The man briefly staggered from the collision but was all over Laura before getting back to her feet. The old woman placed her bare right foot between them as the man bit her in the left arm, his bloody fingers clawing at her face. Scream of desperation came out of her mouth. Laura mustered all her strength and pushed the intruder away, far enough to stand up and run to the living room. The kitchen was just on the other side, and the only thought in Laura's mind was to reach the stand with her fine selection of knives.

She reached as far as the kitchen entrance where the bloodthirsty invader caught up with her, knocked to the tiled floor and finished what he started. Laura Stanton died in her bloodied pink bathrobe while the ghoul feasted upon her frail body until the taste of her flesh faded away. As it happened, the man left in pursuit of another victim, leaving the front door wide open. The virus he transmitted through bites already started Laura's reanimation process, which took most of the day. By the time Laura was reborn and opened her milky eyes, the street outside was quiet. Without anything to stimulate her interest, she lay dormant on her old kitchen floor until nightfall. Suddenly, screams and loud noises somewhere nearby caught her attention. Laura slowly stood up, ignoring her debilitating wounds, ready to go towards those interesting and desired sounds, but she didn't have to. The prey came straight to her. Moments later, she was sitting on top of precious wriggling meat, tasting the flesh for the very first time.

"Help!" Marsha's desperate scream echoed throughout the house as she tried to fight off reanimated Laura tearing into her left shoulder. The zombie caught her by surprise and dragged to the floor before Marsha realized what was happening. Already weakened by the previous injury, she offered little resistance.

"Somebody, help me!" she yelped sobbing, trying to push Laura away.

"Stay by the door!" Michael instructed his wife, already halfway through the living room with Ian right behind him. He feared the worst, and as both men entered the kitchen, his suspicions were confirmed. Sitting on top of her victim, Laura groaned and swallowed a chunk of flesh. She then grabbed Marsha's left hand, pulled it closer to her mouth and bit down hard. The sound of crunching bones and shattering joints added to the agony of the already injured woman.

"Please, let go of me!" Marsha moaned while the creature on top of her bit off three fingers and started chewing on them. Laura ignored the cries. The only thing that mattered to this abomination now was the taste of the flesh, and this craving would only cease with her existence.

Her reborn life was shortlived when Ian plunged one of Laura's fine knives through the base of her skull.

"Hold on, Marsha!" Michael helped Ian to push the corpse to the side.

"She is in shock," Ian said, kneeling next to her. Marsha was shivering, unresponsive to her surroundings. Ian grabbed the kitchen towel from the counter and wrapped her injured hand, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Shit," Michael mumbled to himself, frantically looking around. "Over there!" He pointed to the back door on the opposite end of the kitchen. "This is our way out!"

"I don't think she can walk," Ian replied. He wasn't an expert, but Marsha clearly was not in the state to go anywhere by herself.

The turmoil outside the front door grew louder as more infected were joining the crowd.

"I don't think this door will hold any longer!" Emily yelled from the living room. The hinges creaked under the weight of relentless pressure, and the meagre support of the cabinet wouldn't hold another minute.

"Then you carry her!" Michael said to Ian. "Take her outside while I get Emily and Danny!" He was growing weary. As strong as Michael was, it was just too much to handle. He left the kitchen, leaving Ian to attend to Marsha.

"Let me help you up," Ian said and helped Marsha to stand up. She didn't reply, just nodded in response. Ian tried to be gentle, but there was no time for mindfulness. He put his hand firmly around her waist and walked across the kitchen. With words, "I am sorry, but we have to go," he opened the back door just to be greeted by two shady figures starring back at him.

"Oh no…," was all Ian managed to say before both ghouls screeched and bolted straight into them. All four tumbled to the floor and slid across the slippery surface already smeared with blood. Their screams for help drowned in the growing noise by the front door.

In the meantime, Michael was back at the main entrance, where he almost ran into Emily. She leaned against the cabinet, trying to give it more support. It reverberated from the ferocious banging on the outside. Danny was still standing in the corner, apathy in full control of him.

"We have to run. Now!" Michael said quietly and grabbed his wife's hand.

"Danny, let's go!" Emily turned to Danny.

The door hinges groaned even louder. Danny looked at them but didn't move, his mind too fractured by the loss of his wife.

"Let him be," Michael pulled his wife's hand towards the living room. Danny was a liability and Michael had no intention of sacrificing himself and Emily for the despised neighbour.

"But we can't leave him!" Emily tried to protest.

"If he wants to stay, let him! There is no time!" Michael lost his temper and dragged Emily away from the entrance just as the door frame cried one more time, cracks appearing on both sides and the door finally gave in. The lock snapped, and the upper hinge broke free. The old door tilted inwards, pushed the shoe cabinet to the side and fell at an angle against the staircase. Still clinging on the lower hinge, it blocked Danny's only way to the living room. Scores of hands reached out through the narrow gap, clawing fingers almost touching his jacket.

Maybe survival instinct finally kicked in overriding whatever psychological trauma his mind was battling against but seeing this forest of hands eventually woke Danny up. Emily and Michael were gone, and the only path left for him now was up the stairs.

"Oh shit, oh, shit…." Danny squealed and scrambled to the top floor. Halfway through the staircase, the horde finally ripped the door entirely of the hinges, and the ghouls burst inside. Fighting and pushing each other zombies propelled after Danny - the only living thing in their sight.

Michael's quick reaction was probably what saved them the moment they entered the kitchen. Michael suddenly stopped and placed his hand on Emily's mouth before she could say anything. Her eyes went wide from the horrific scene painted across the tiled floor.

Marsha lay unconscious by the table. One of the zombies kneeled next to her and gauged on her shoulder. Blood dripped through his chin as the ghoul chewed on her flesh, ignoring everything and everyone around. Ian was on the floor a few feet away, still putting up a fight. The second attacker's right shoulder on top of him was clearly dislocated, and dark blood oozed out of multiple stab wounds to his right side. Still, the ghoul was surprisingly strong, and as much as Ian wriggled under his weight, he couldn't shake his opponent off.

Meanwhile, the infected scratched Ian's face with his intact hand, at the same time ferociously biting anywhere his teeth reached. Blood gushed from Ian's throat. He desperately tried to stop the bleeding by pressing his left hand on the wound. His cartilage was torn to shreds, face turning pale, strength abandoning him. Ian glanced at Michael and Emily, standing on the opposite side of the kitchen. He tried to say something but just gurgled.

Michael could see an acceptance of the inevitable in Ian's eyes. As much as he hated to admit, there was no saving either of them. He kept his hand on Emily's mouth. She tried to protest, but Michael shook his head.

"We can't help them anymore," he whispered and pointed to the back door. "We have to leave now."

The turmoil by the entrance meant that the front door gave in. The infected were pouring into the house and would be upon them in seconds. More screeches echoed somewhere close by through the wide-open kitchen door. The uproar of the horde was luring every ghoul in the surrounding area.

Michael signalled Emily to keep quiet and pulled her hand towards the door. Still hesitant, she complied. Her husband was right. It was just them now.

Both ghouls, too preoccupied with their feast, ignored the couple as they sneaked out and rushed down the stairs. The twisted ankle slowed Michael down, but he did his best to ignore the pain. The park was just across the street offering at least some kind of cover.

Danny slammed the door behind him. Any trace of apathy gone, panic taking over in full swing. He was trapped in the bedroom with ghouls now pressing against his last line of defence - the flimsy bedroom door. It was apparent it wouldn't last long. Danny looked around to see if he could reinforce it with anything. He gasped in disappointment. The only piece of furniture apart from a large bed was an even larger wardrobe, to heavy to move it by himself.

"Oh no, oh god…" Danny mumbled, heartbeat drumming in his ears. He noticed the window across the room and rushed to it. With shivering fingers, Danny tried to open it but unsuccessfully. Any glimpse of hope instantly faded when he looked outside. Even if Danny managed to break the window, jumping from this height to the pavement below would undoubtedly leave him with broken bones. He suddenly noticed Michael and Emily running through the street towards the park. Frustration mixed with anger and anguish took over him.

"Help me, you bastards!" he yelled in desperation. "Don't leave me here! Michael, you son of a bitch! Come back!"

Michael heard him and briefly turned around. He looked at Danny, regret mixed with pitty in his eyes but didn't reply. Instead, he made haste dragging Emily behind him as both disappeared under the canopy of trees. The door finally surrendered and burst open, inviting the hungry mob to the dining table. Danny yelled for the last time before dozens of hands dragged him away from the window.

To be continued