Part II

Part II

There was a brief spark and a snap before the stinging smell of burnt wires rose with a plume of smoke from the fuse box. Muttering darkly to himself, Victor Warner slammed the panel shut and wiped his hands off on his white coat. Just by crossing one wrong wire he'd completely blown the rest of the fuses, leaving the east wing of the hospital in darkness.

Well, at least the elevators still work...

He listened frustratedly as the backup generator hummed to life, before sputtering back out. The stairs were now the only way to get between floors.

Goddamn it! I have one clip left, the batteries are dying in this flashlight, there's no power, and I'm the only living person here! What the hell did I do to deserve this?!

Distantly he could hear the pathetic moans and wails of his compatriots. Oddly, they sounded closer than usual, almost as if they were at the stairs. Victor stared at the doorway to his immediate right and groaned. They were at the stairs, probably hovering at the landing, waiting for him to resurface to make a run for his office.

They can't move down stairs, thank God. Finally, a break...

Turning from the still-smoking fuse box Victor swept the beam of light from his flashlight across the basement of the hospital, finally resting on a metal shelf that held tons of medical supplies. He should probably pick up some first aid kits while he was down there, lest he be bitten and have to come back downstairs.

He sighed. The last week had to have been the worst he'd ever had to experience. After the quarantine was called, he had been outraged at the city for their ignorance to the situation. Simply shutting down one building wasn't going to be enough to stop the outbreak of a hellish disease that had the city in a death grip. Numerous others who weren't yet infected had been trapped inside with the carriers, sent to their deaths because the big boys in power were putting on a show. They had about as much of an idea as to what should be done about the situation as a toddler with a fork and a light socket..

Which meant do what first comes to mind, no matter how many citizens you kill in the process.

Victor had already killed most of his comrades, seeing as how all of the rules had been unalterably changed. It was now eat, or be eaten. Which, he reflected, most of them had literally done. Before I put a bullet in each of 'em...

He grabbed a can of first aid spray, a roll of gauze, and a few other medical supplies that he had found were useful in delaying the zombification process, before creeping back to the foot of the stairs, tucking the items into his jacket and shining the beam up to the landing. Sure enough, there were two nurses moaning and swaying at the top, grasping the air as soon as the light hit them in the face.

Good, not the strongest...

Victor steeled himself, clenching his jaw in anticipation, and then barreled up the steps, plowing through the nurses with his shoulder like a football player. The zombies gave low, helpless cries and fell backwards, one of them stumbling over her own rotting feet and toppling down the stairs. Victor grinned to himself as he continued to run. He knew it was cruel, but it gave him a sick pleasure whenever he managed to out-do one of those walking monstrosities.

He turned a corner and scowled. It was almost as if they were reproducing (which he knew was impossible) by the minute. There was a rather large group of them huddled near the open doors of the morgue. For a split second he wondered what they were doing there.

Oh shit. They aren't reproducing. They're coming from the morgue!

Swearing quietly under his breath, Victor glanced around the hall, searching for a way to get around them. Have to save my bullets...

His gaze fell on the fire extinguisher attached to the wall. Better than nothing, he thought and pulled it out of its case, unclipping the nozzle and holding it out in front of him as he pulled the pin. He approached them somewhat calmly, and right when the first one turned a bloody eye to face him, he let loose with a spray of compressed carbon dioxide.

FOOOOSH!

The howls grew louder as the zombies tried to shamble away from the extremity that suddenly coated them. As they were temporarily incapacitated, Victor ran through the group, knocking a few aside with the extinguisher as he dashed to the door at the end of the hall. He hit it hard, knocking it open and stumbling into a new corridor of darkness. As stupid as he knew it was to do, he continued to run, hesitating only long enough to listen for an obstacle that would need to be destroyed. Other than the sound of his loafers slapping the tiled floor, the hallway was silent...

Until something on the floor lashed out and grabbed him by the ankle.

Panicking, Victor lost his balance and crashed to the floor, the extinguisher flying from his grasp, and landing beyond his reach. He immediately brought his other foot up and slammed it into the face of the decaying creature, scuffing off the peeling skin on its forehead. He kicked it again and again as it struggled to get its teeth into his flesh. Each strike chipped off a piece of the zombie, until CRACK!, its face caved in, gore and chips of bone sticking to his shoe. The body shuddered once as Victor pulled his foot away, and it collapsed in a heap, dark fluids and brain matter leaking out onto the floor.

Jumping up, he scrambled away from the zombie, forgetting about the lost extinguisher, and went down the hall carefully this time. Luckily, there was nothing else in this hall, and he managed to reach his office without further delay. Still shaking from the rush of adrenaline, Victor quickly stepped into the safe room and shut and locked the door behind him, flicking on the light switch as he did so. Only when the lights remained off did he remember that the generator had failed.

Shit...

He fished in his pockets for the flashlight, and let out a low growl when he couldn't find it. "Must've dropped it out in the hall," he muttered to nobody in particular. No matter. He was safe, he had the medical supplies, and the door was sturdy. There was no need to worry for a little while. Hell, I've survived this long. I can last longer, that's for damn sure.

Straightening out his jacket, he felt his way over to his desk and dumped the supplies on the desktop. Unless help showed up sometime soon, there was no reason, he decided, to go anywhere.