Draculas

A woman came out of the lobby and lit up a cigarette. The smoke drifted Sha

She checked the time. She'd give the ER staff another ten minutes to deal with Mortimer, then she'd return. Poor guy. Such a kind man. He'd been so good to her. Why on Earth had he jabbed himself with those fangs?

As she passed the elevator she saw a plaque: CHAPEL 2ND FLOOR.

Not a bad idea. She wasn't religious, but it would be quiet and no one would be smoking.

She hit the UP button and a pair of doors slid open immediately. She rode one stop and was stepping out onto the second floor when three sharp reports echoed faintly through the elevator shaft from somewhere in the hospital. She froze. They seemed to come from below. They almost sounded like...

No...couldn't be.

The elevator doors pincered against her and retreated. Puzzled and curious, she stepped back into the cab and punched the LOBBY button. On the way down she heard two more reports, much closer now, and immediately wished she'd stayed on the second floor. Because she knew that sound--knew it all too well from all the shows she'd been to where dealers and collectors demonstrated their wares.

Gunshots.

Somebody was shooting up the lobby.

Her heart began to thud as she hammered her palm against the button bank, pushing them all, any floor, she didn't care, just not the lobby. Wasn't there a way to stop these things? No sooner had the thought cleared than she saw the red STOP button. But as she reached for it the doors slid open.

Ernie looked up at her from the floor just outside the doors.

No, not Ernie. Just his head.

She screamed and began banging on the floor buttons again. She caught a flash of movement beyond Ernie's head. Someone racing for the elevator.

No--something. It was shaped like a man and dressed like a man, though its shirt was in tatters. But there the resemblance stopped. Splattered head to toe with blood and its face...a horror of bloody jutting fangs and black eyes.

And it was charging her!

Sha

The doors...just a few more inches...an inch...

Steel met steel just as a heavy weight slammed against the other side. The cab began to rise.

Sha

That thing...its wild, insane teeth resembled the skull Mortimer received earlier...the teeth that had pierced Mortimer's throat.

And despite all the blood, Sha

She sobbed again, this time in disbelief.

"Mortimer?"

Lanz

"HER name's Oasis," the new LPN said from the head of the gurney.

Her nametag read Rodriguez and she was all dark eyes and mocha skin and black hair. Not bad looking if you went for the Hispanic thing. Lanz preferred blondes.

He shook his head. Oasis...was that who her mother was listening to when she conceived her? He brushed the question away and tried to focus on the girl's arm.

Not an easy thing. But at least the ER was secured. The guard had returned Ernie's head to his body, Winslow was escorting the orderlies and the four new corpses down to the cooler, and two gun-toting uniforms were ready for trouble.

Okay. Now to Oasis. The kid was sedated with a little diazepam but strapped down anyway. She had five tears in her forearm where she'd been bitten. The EMT stood by to help restrain her if she started struggling.

Lanz held out his hand. "Lido."

Rodriguez placed a syringe of local anesthetic on his palm. He was about to begin injecting when the EMT backed away.

"Ooh, man."

Lanz glanced up at him. He wore a strange look.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of needles."

"No, man." His voice was slurred. "I stick 'em in people alla time. I just feel like shit alla sudden."

He rubbed a hand across his face and Lanz noticed that one of his fingers was red and swollen to twice its size. Hadn't he said he'd been bitten by Moorecook? Cellulitis already?

"Sit down before you fall down."

Christ, was the EMT going to wind up a patient too? What else could go wrong?

He turned back to the kid. She began squirming as he injected the local--burned like hell for a few seconds going in, then the area went numb. He heard a hiss off to his right and glanced over to where the EMT slumped in a chair with his head lolling back. His mouth hung open and he was breathing fu

Lanz had heard that sound before...just a little while ago--

Suddenly the EMT choked and bent forward. He hacked and spit. Not mucous.

Teeth.

He looked up at Lanz, his eyes tortured...and red. "Doc, I feel like sh--aaagh"

A claw exploded from his infected fingertip, and then his other fingers followed.

Just like with Moorecook.

And then huge fangs extruded from his jaws, ripping through his cheeks and lips.

Just like Moorecook.

Oh, Christ, was it contagious?

Another hiss, closer. He looked down at the girl. Her red-rimmed ebony eyes were wide open, and she was spitting teeth, but rows at a time, the braces linking them like bloody little fence posts.

Lanz backed away. Both bitten, both changing. It was contagious.

Oasis ripped her clawed hands free of the restraints as fangs ripped through her face. The EMT was up now, approaching the gurney as Oasis sat up. Both had their eyes fixed on Lanz and Rodriguez. The LPN was backing away too. She bumped into Lanz. Instinctively he grabbed her and shoved her toward the gurney. She screamed horribly when the claws pulled her forward and fangs tore her flesh. As blood sprayed, Lanz turned and ran.

Out of the treatment room, into the ER proper. Ignore the terrified, questioning faces. Find a place to hide. A door--SUPPLIES. The handle won't turn. Locked. Of course. But he has a key. He fumbles it free, unlocks the steel door, ducks inside, closes and locks it behind him.

Safe! OhgoodChrist, safe!

Lanz slumped to the floor and leaned with his back against some shelving. Gradually he controlled his breathing, felt his heart slow.

He got a grip. He had control.

Okay. Assess the problem.

Some sort of contagious agent--viral, chemical, whatever--had invaded the hospital. Moorecook seemed to be patient zero, at least in Blessed Crucifixion. The two who'd changed had been bitten by him, which was a good indicator it was blood or saliva borne.

He quickly checked himself for cuts or scratches. None. Good. He was infection free. He had a steel door between him and the contaminated. He--

Something in his mouth. He spit it out.

A tooth.

No!

Randall

AS Randall marched down the corridor, it occurred to him that limping out to his truck to retrieve a chainsaw in order to cut up a feral beast that gobbled intestines was exactly the kind of "acting without thinking" behavior that had caused so many problems in his marriage. Well, that and the drinking.

He was in no shape to be walking around like this--he was, after all, hospitalized with a severe leg injury. He didn't actually need his chainsaw--it was a hospital, so they probably had giant bone saws or other tools for dismemberment that were closer than the parking lot. Not to mention that by the time he actually limped out there, got his chainsaw, and limped all the way back, somebody else probably would have already dealt with the dracula creature issue. And hospital security was probably not inclined to let a gown-wearing, stitched-up lumberjack enter the facility with a chainsaw, even in a time of crisis.