Frankenstorm: Survivors by Ray Garton Page A

heading for the front of the building and the collapsed cafeteria. The person passed their view in a heartbeat, screaming along the way.
    “Shit,” Ollie said. “Flamethrowers. Get in here, Emilio, now .” He roughly grabbed her shoulders—
    “Hey!”
    —turned her around and shoved her back in the office. “You need to come in here.”
    “No!” she said, shoving past him to the door. “I have to get out of here now. We all do. Flamethrowers, they’ve got flamethrowers ? I hope they keep in mind that we’ve got oxygen tanks upstairs.”
    Ollie grabbed her arm and pulled her back in. “Look, you can’t go out there because they’re gonna—”
    Fara spun around and swung her fist as hard as she could. It connected with Ollie’s face and he stumbled backwards with a yelp.
    “Leave me alone!” she said. “I’m going out to my car and I’m leaving.”
    Emilio stood in the doorway. “No, you’re not.”
    Fara kicked him between the legs.
    Emilio doubled over with a cry of pain, then fell forward onto the floor.
    Fara stepped over him and left the office, ignoring the burned body.
    Cold wind still blew in the corridor. She stayed next to the left wall, close enough to touch—which she frequently did—and walked fast. She reached into her purse and removed her gun.
    There were sounds everywhere, including more rumbling crashes deep in the building, but she focused on getting out of the building safely. Anything else would merely distract her, frighten her, slow her down. She didn’t listen to her pounding heart or her rapid breaths. She only moved forward quickly, steadily, possessed by the need to get outside that building and then as far away from it as possible as soon as she could, that was her goal, the focus of her concentration.
    She rounded the corner to the left without hesitation, and her flashlight beam leapt ahead of her and fell on what looked like a gorilla.
    Fara gasped and stopped, staring at the creature.
    No, it wasn’t a creature—it was a man dressed in black, including a black helmet over his head, and his clothes were bulky with body armor, just as Ollie had predicted. In his arms he held a pipe. No, it was some kind of odd-looking gun, more like a nozzle of sorts, and his finger was on a trigger.
    Flames exploded from the nozzle and turned the world into a conflagration. The flames clung to Fara and filled her eyes and lungs and ears so that she could not hear her own screams.
     
     
    “What the fuck!” Ram said. “Looks like it’s really hit the fan here.”
    He drove slowly along the gravel road, the headlights illuminating bodies on the ground, a smashed gate, an abandoned police car. The right side of the car jumped twice as Ram drove over one of the bodies.
    “Speed bump!” he shouted, then he bellowed laughter. “Oh, shit! A goddamned TV van. What are they doing here?”
    Andy was relieved to see the KIEM van. There were other cars in the lot, as well . . . along with dead bodies on the ground.
    Ram had wanted Donny to sit up front with him while Andy sat in the back, but Andy had flatly refused. “Go ahead and shoot me, if you want, but he sits in back with me.” Ram had laughed then and claimed he was only joking around.
    Andy had no idea why they were at the old hospital or what to expect next, but he knew he had to get Donny away from Ram at the first available opportunity.
    “Look at that !” Ram said when a blast of fire exploded out of a second-floor window
    “Whoa,” Donny said, leaning forward in the seat. “What kind of place is this?”
    “This is the old mental hospital I’ve told you about. Remember?”
    He nodded. “Is it going to blow up?”
    “I really don’t know.”
    “See, my problem is, my boss is in there somewhere,” Ram said. “The sheriff. He’s in there and he’s hurt and we’ve gotta get him out.” He laughed. “Well, not we as in me and you guys!” Another laugh. “I mean we deputies.” He got on the radio.