Kate's back pressed against the cold metal door of the stairwell, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The moans from the hallway were louder now, accompanied by the sound of footsteps—no, not footsteps. Shuffling. Slow, uneven, but purposeful. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tightened her grip on the scalpel, its metal handle slick with sweat.
She'd seen chaos in the ER before—mass casualty incidents, natural disasters, even violent outbursts—but nothing like this. Nothing that made her question the boundaries of life and death.
Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she cracked the door open an inch. The dim corridor stretched before her, illuminated by the flickering light of a broken fluorescent bulb. The once-sterile hallway was now a battlefield. Blood smeared the walls and pooled around toppled gurneys, the pungent metallic scent heavy in the air.
Kate's eyes darted to movement near the nurse's station. A figure stumbled forward—a nurse she recognized, Shelly, her pale blue scrubs soaked in blood. Relief surged through Kate's chest. Shelly was alive.
"Shelly!" Kate whispered urgently, pushing the door open wider. "Over here!"
Shelly turned toward her, eyes wide and brimming with panic. She took a halting step forward but froze mid-stride. Her gaze flicked over Kate's shoulder, and her expression twisted into pure terror.
"Behind you!" Shelly screamed.
Kate spun instinctively, her scalpel raised, but the hallway behind her was empty. The door slammed shut behind her, and she turned back to Shelly—just in time to see a man emerge from the shadows. His movements were jerky, his head tilted at an unnatural angle.
He lunged, his teeth sinking into Shelly's neck with a wet, sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across the walls as Shelly screamed, the sound high-pitched and raw. Kate staggered back, bile rising in her throat as she watched the man tear into Shelly's flesh like an animal.
"Stop it!" Kate yelled, her voice trembling with equal parts fury and horror. She took a hesitant step forward, but the man's head snapped up at the sound. Blood dripped from his chin, and his glassy, bloodshot eyes locked onto hers.
Kate froze. The scalpel felt useless in her hand, a laughable defense against the thing before her. She watched in helpless terror as the man released Shelly's limp body and began to shuffle toward her.
---
The stairwell door slammed shut behind Kate as she fled down the stairs, her chest heaving with exertion and panic. She knew the man—or whatever he had become—wouldn't stop. None of them would. Their determination was mindless, primal. And it was spreading.
Her foot slipped on something wet, and she nearly lost her balance. She caught herself against the railing, glancing down to see her boot coated in blood. A thick pool of it spread across the landing, leading to a crumpled figure lying facedown in the corner.
Kate approached cautiously, her scalpel raised. "Hey… can you hear me?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. The figure's body was unnaturally still.
She crouched down, her free hand reaching for the man's shoulder to turn him over. Before she could make contact, his head jerked up. Bloodshot eyes met hers, and his mouth twisted into a grotesque snarl.
Kate stumbled back as the man lunged at her, his hands clawing at the air. His movements were wrong—jerky and erratic, like a marionette controlled by clumsy hands. Blackened blood oozed from the gaping wounds on his arms and chest, the infection visibly spreading beneath his translucent skin.
"Stay back!" Kate shouted, her voice cracking. She swung the scalpel wildly as the man crawled toward her, the sound of his labored breathing filling the stairwell. Her blade sliced into his shoulder, but he didn't even flinch.
She kicked out with her foot, catching him in the chest and sending him sprawling onto his back. Kate didn't hesitate. She lunged, driving the scalpel into his neck. The man convulsed violently, his limbs twitching as dark blood gushed from the wound. But still, he didn't stop.
With a surge of adrenaline, Kate yanked the scalpel free and plunged it into his skull. The sickening crunch of bone and metal echoed in the stairwell, and the man finally went still. Kate staggered back, her chest heaving. The body lay motionless at her feet, black blood pooling around its head.
Her hands trembled as she wiped the scalpel on her coat, smearing the blood across the fabric. Her stomach churned, but she forced the bile back down. There was no time to be sick.
---
By the time Kate reached the basement, her coat was soaked in blood, and her mind felt like it was fraying at the edges. She pounded on the metal door, her voice hoarse as she shouted, "It's me! Dr. Mitchell! Let me in!"
The door creaked open, and a familiar face peeked out. It was Evan, the med student who'd been shadowing her that morning. His eyes were wide with fear, his hands trembling as he held a fire extinguisher like a weapon.
"Dr. Mitchell!" he breathed, pulling her inside. He slammed the door shut behind her, locking it with shaking hands.
Kate leaned against the wall, her breath coming in short gasps. "What's the situation?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Evan gestured to the room beyond. "We've got about fifteen people in here—staff, patients, a couple of paramedics. Everyone's… scared."
Kate followed him into the basement, her eyes scanning the room. The group huddled together under the dim glow of a lantern, their faces pale and drawn. Patients clutched at bloody bandages, their breathing labored. A nurse sat in the corner, sobbing quietly into her hands. The air was thick with fear and the coppery tang of blood.
"Dr. Mitchell." The head nurse, Claire, approached her, her expression grim. "What's happening up there?"
Kate hesitated. How could she explain what she'd seen? The chaos, the blood, the… monsters? She swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak.
"The ER is gone," she said finally. "Those things—whatever they are—they're everywhere. We can't stay here. It's only a matter of time before they find us."
Claire's face paled. "What do we do?"
Kate glanced around the room. They needed supplies, weapons, a plan. But most of all, they needed to leave. The hospital was no longer a refuge—it was a death trap.
"We need to secure supplies," Kate said. "Food, water, medical equipment. If we're going to survive, we need to be ready."
"And then what?" Evan asked. His voice was trembling, but there was a spark of determination in his eyes. "Where do we go? The streets are full of… them."
Kate didn't have an answer. She glanced at the door, her mind racing. If they stayed here, they'd be trapped. But leaving meant braving the unknown.
"Is the loading dock still clear?" she asked Claire.
The nurse nodded. "Last I checked, yes. But it's risky. Those things are everywhere."
Kate squared her shoulders. "I'll go. If we can get to the dock, we might be able to find a vehicle and get out of here."
"You're not going alone," Claire said firmly. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crowbar, pressing it into Kate's hands. "You'll need this."
"I'll go too," Evan said, stepping forward. His hands were shaking, but his voice was steady. "You'll need help carrying supplies."
Kate hesitated, the thought of putting Evan in danger twisting her stomach. But she knew he was right. She couldn't do this alone.
"Fine," she said. "But stay close to me. And if anything happens, you run. Do you understand?"
Evan nodded, his jaw set with determination.
---
As Kate and Evan prepared to leave, the group in the basement watched them in silence. A patient reached out, grabbing Kate's sleeve.
"Please," the woman whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "Don't leave us."
Kate placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, forcing herself to meet her gaze. "We'll come back," she said firmly. "I promise."
She wasn't sure if it was a promise she could keep.
---
The hallway leading to the loading dock was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the hospital's generators. Kate gripped the crowbar tightly, her eyes darting to every shadow. Evan followed close behind, his hands clutching a flashlight.
They passed through the remains of the ER, stepping over bodies and overturned equipment. Kate tried not to look too closely at the faces of the dead. Some of them had been her patients. Others… her colleagues.
"Dr. Mitchell," Evan whispered, his voice trembling. "Do you think this is… a virus? Or something else?"
Kate didn't answer right away. She didn't know what to think anymore. The logical part of her mind wanted to believe this was some kind of infection—something explainable. But the things she'd seen defied logic.
"I don't know," she said finally. "But whatever it is, it's spreading fast."
Evan nodded, his grip on the flashlight tightening.
They reached the doors to the loading dock. Kate pressed her ear to the metal, listening. The faint sound of shuffling reached her ears, and her stomach sank.
"They're out there," she whispered.
Evan's eyes widened. "What do we do?"
Kate glanced around, her mind racing. She spotted a fire alarm on the wall and a plan began to form. "We're going to draw them away," she said. "I'll pull the alarm, and when they move, we'll make a run for the supplies."
Evan swallowed hard but nodded. "Okay."
Kate took a deep breath, steeling herself. "On my count. One… two…"
The sound of the alarm echoed through the hospital, and the moans of the undead rose in response.
"Three!"
Kate shoved the door open, and they ran.