Dorissa Cronchite, R.N. spent the last ten years of her life achieving her nursing degree and working towards her physician doctorate. Miss Cronchite had an unfortunate family life and an unfortunate case of extremely bad luck, but she has made it her duty to pull herself out of her reoccurring dilemma; ie bad internet boyfriends, her mother's hips, a taste for fudge and really shitty timing. Miss Cronchite was bestowing her infinite wisdom on several other interns when the ambulance radio blew up, of course not in a literal sense, but blew up as in Miss Cronchite shutting up and readying for incoming wounded.
Had there been an accident? Did a plane crash?
She and the interns looked at each other quizzically, all wondering the same thing - just what in the fuck happened?They were pondering this when the voices of what sounded like a handful of abulances cut off with shrieks, screaming and weird hoarse breathing. There was nothing but silence in the Emergency Room of Nachton's grand and state of the art hospital. The facility had been created with modern technology at the forefront of the City's grand plan to make the hospital the east coasts number one medical facility, rivaling even the crown gem of the medical corporation world - Duibne Industries. Doriss Cronchite, R.N., fourth year resident heard the wail of the ambulances and was ready to pounce on the incoming when it was, unfortunately, the incoming waiting to pounce on her.
The first series of explosions rocked the entire hospital and caused a wee bit of drama. One of the incoming ambulances had crashed, full speed, into the waiting entrance of Nachton Hospital's ER. The front lobby, more than a dozen quietly waiting patients, the north end of the triage counter and about six on duty doctors were crushed by the two ton vehicle and scattered about the ER. Dorissa Cronchite saw the crash and did the respectable thing - she ran for cover. Pushing past the other interns, Dorissa hurled herself over the back counter of the triage counter and narrowly missed being part of the six on duty doctors being crushed and maimed. The lights in the ER flickered as its own emergency lights struggled to turn on. Dorissa blinked open her eyes and sat up slowly, nursing a bloodied right forearm. She could hear the screeching of tires and blaring of sirens mingling in with the ringing in her ears - outside somewhere the world was ending, she thought matter-of-factly. More people began to move quickly about the ER, looking for survivors, but Dorissa suddenly felt an extreme need to check on the driver of the ambulance.
Stepping over bodies, concrete and various decorative plants, Dorissa made her way to the ambulance door which was hanging askew but still intact. Her hand, bloodied from holding her cut forearm, reached out and opened the driver 's side door, spilling out one ambulance driver. Just past him was the body of a security guard who had half plunged through the windshield and appeared to have lost his head. Dorissa did her best to catch the driver but he dropped to the floor, face first. Reaching down she felt for signs of life and heard again the weird wheezing she recognized from the ambulance radio. With an annoyed look, she began to gently move the driver onto his back when it lunged for her.
Dorissa fell back with a scream, causing the other survivors to walk over to help. The driver continued to lunge at her, despite missing his arm and the side of his head. Dorissa, not a woman of colorful expletives, discovered a few as the driver reached out and grabbed her hand. With a soft soled white shoe, she kicked the driver in the face and heard the tell tale snap of his neck. Suddenly more whispered moaning began to float in from off the street and inside the ambulance, filling her ears and amping up her terror level. With a yelp she jumped at the feel of hands grabbing her, only to see the other survivors of the ER pulling her away from the ambulance and towards the back elevators.
Blood curdling screams began to fill the ER as Dorissa watched from the corner of her eye mangled occupants of the ambulance tearing through the back end of the truck and leaping onto the other survivors with a speed her pop cultured zombie mind was not accustomed to. But then that's what they were...zombies. With a nervous cackle Dorissa pushed the elevator door buttons with a handful of others as the zombies...god help her they were ZOMBIES...began to eat the ER occupants. They needed to get up to the fifth floor where the hospital was prepped to seal from natural disasters such as earth quakes, tsunamis and...well...zombie attacks. They would seal off the bottom four floors and god help whoever was left down here because it sure as shit wasn't going to be Dorissa.
As the elevator door dinged open, Dorissa turned to walked right into the open mouth of another zombie that had made it in. The other survivors pushed past Miss Dorissa Cronchite, R.N., fourth year resident and all around general selfish bitch. One David Reckles, sometimes misprounced but certainly never was - Reckless, watched from the inside of the elevator as the doors closed.
You made it - through the lightning fast infected Nachton residents, downed power lines, mutilple car crashes and all around bad Halloween evening. Nachton Hospital is SAFE. Unlike zombies, you have managed to make it to the fifth floor and uninfected safe territory. Enjoy.
They were dead or dying but not stupid. They moved together, as if they were a highly trained combat unit, flanking the entrances of the hospital and surrounding the sweet flesh. The infection did more than make them into something that would not die, it made them better. Deadlier. Hungrier.
The need to feed was so overwhelming that they moved with a single purpose and killed everything along the way - feeding until the sweet flesh became infected with its own death. Then it joined the collective, moving quickly through the streets and into the emergency room of the hospital. There would be more of the sweet flesh here - dead, dying or recovering...it was still sweet.