The Real Night of the Living Dead by Mark Kramer, Felix Cruz

stairs, toward us.
    Then we heard the door slam open and saw the group coming through from the first floor.
    We were surrounded.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Twelve
     
     
    Some of them began showing signs of moving slower as they walked toward us. I wasn’t sure why? One of them loss their balance and fell down the stairs, landing right at Billy’s feet.
    Billy didn’t give the man in the denim overalls a chance; he stomped the end of the broom into his head. The crack in his skull echoed throughout the stairwell. Billy exhaled through his mouth, his lips flapping together, and said, “The rest a yall should make it that easy. Just fall right here,” tapping the broom on the floor, “so I can bonk them retarded brains a yours .”
    As they moved closer, Billy inched back further and further, pushing me and Melvin against the corner wall.
    Now the lights began to flicker. Every second that they flicked off, all we could see were the terrifying yellow eyes inching closer.
    The hospital generated its own electricity from an electrical substation right off Southampton Road and, whenever it rained heavy and the creek overflowed, the hospital would lose its power for minutes to hours at a time.
    One of them darted out and ran to Billy. He swung the broom and hit him in the neck. The infected patient dropped, but was alive (if that’s what you want to call “alive”.)
    “The bastards got us boxed in,” said Billy. “You ready to get your asshole eaten out?”
    My eyes widened as the yellow eyes circled us. Think fast. Think fast, I thought.
    I heard the wind howl outside, and the rain beginning to slap against the window behind me. I turned and gazed at the storm. I raised the mop and smashed it through the window, glass shattering everywhere. I hit it again and again, until the broken window was big enough for us to fit through.
    I dropped the mop on the sill, then pulled myself up. “Billy, out here,” I said. He looked at me and backed up as he stood guard while I grabbed Melvin’s bloody hand and pulled him up and over.
    The steady thick raindrops were hitting us both. Melvin looked down and saw the distance to the ground outside was about ten feet. He hesitated. I shouted, “Jump. We don’t have time.”
    He leaped, but weak, and fell to the front steps of the entrance to N-3. I heard the soles of his boots thumping against the cement below. I stole a quick glance and saw him lying in a fetal position with his hands holding his knee, wincing in pain, and blood from his wounds mixing with rain on the cement.
    My attention was on Billy now. He was cornered, up against the wall. The two groups of lunatics were forming into one, about five feet from him now.
    I leaned forward, grabbed my mop from the window sill, “Billy, get your skinny butt up here,” and started swinging at the heads moving in on Billy. He tossed his broom out the window, they reached out their bloody hands, he began pulling himself up, an attendant wrapped his thick fingers around Billy’s ankle and tugged on him, Billy was turning red as he struggled to rise and not fall.
    There were so many around him, I wasn’t sure who to hit first. “This lil ’ critter’s got a hold.” said Billy. I looked and saw the attendant trying to pull him down. I screamed as I whacked the thick wooden mop handle on the side of the attendant’s head. His grip was broken, and Billy pulled himself up so hard that he didn’t stop once he was on the sill; he went right out the window. Damn kid was so light on his feet.
    I gazed at the sick people. They were staring at me, reaching up, with their hands brushing against my pants. I looked out the window, the hard rain blinding me for a moment, wiped my face and saw Billy half on Melvin who was still holding his knee.
    I tossed the mop to the ground below and jumped out, doing my best to avoid hitting Melvin and Billy. Landed beside them, right on my ass.
    I got to my feet. My eyes inspected the parking lot