DAY THREE
DAY THREE: HOTEL ROOM 1810
In March, my company had named me “Salesman of the Year” and put my name on the preferred parking spot sign right up front near the executive parking. With that prestigious award came the responsibility of flying to Chicago for a three day sales seminar on how to improve your time management or closing skills or whatever other little classes you bothered to show up for. I thought it sounded like a waste of time. Most people who went to these things just racked up the charges on their expense accounts. Obviously the guy who beats the sales numbers of 127 other people must be managing themselves fairly well already. At least that’s my opinion. Now it turns out I was more right about not wanting to come here than I could have ever imagined.
It’s been a few days since the start of the news reports about the dead getting up and wandering around. This also seemed to usher in the death of daytime soap operas and game shows. I suppose people have better things to do now. It only took the simple matter of survival to see that. It’s been two days since one of the fuckers bit off a chunk of my calf as I ran for the lobby elevators. I knew it was going to be dangerous but I figured I could make it. I realized I was wrong after slipping in the thick smear of blood, bits and pieces of some other poor bastard. I obviously made it to the elevators and up to my room but I keep wrapping the wound in my leg and it just keeps bleeding. Now it’s been one day since the cold sweats started and here I am: sitting in the hotel room I should have checked out of a day ago. I would have left but no one seems to care that I’ve missed my checkout time. The minibar’s empty too but I doubt I’ll be seeing a bill for that anytime soon.
Occasionally I hear a scream from somewhere distant. I’m on the eighteenth floor so it has to be coming from inside the hotel. Probably coming from someone too stupid to stay locked in their room. Someone too stupid to think that it might not be Room Service scratching and moaning at their door. I can’t blame them too much though. I’m so hungry now that I might just do the same.
I unconsciously shift my weight and let out a muffled cry as another wave of pain rips through my leg and nausea squeezes at my stomach. Sonuvabitch my leg hurts! I can’t believe I got bit! Stupid! It’s wrapped up in what was the last clean pillow-case and it just won’t stop bleeding. When I last wrapped it I saw that the edges had blackened and there were purplish spider web looking patterns all up and down my leg. It looked worse than an infection; at least not a normal infection. I’m going to die from this shit and then I’ll probably be scratching and moaning at this door trying to get out. I hear a faint shuffling sound just outside my door followed by a low growl or groan. Then it all goes quiet again. They can still hear me in here no matter how quiet I try to be.
I’d say there was some hope but I’ve looked out the windows. Jesus, I don’t want to look out the windows anymore. I may be pretty high up but I can still make out what’s happening down there. And I have a pretty good view of a few blood stained streets and intersections from this height. Last time I looked I saw a woman running down the middle of the street holding what I could only assume was a baby. From the time I noticed her she made it through a few intersections before four of the dead bastards stumbled out into the street a little ways in front of her. I could tell she panicked. Even from way up here you could see the indecision. She stopped in her tracks and looked at each of the dead things getting closer to her. Those things may not move as fast as the living but they’re not as slow as they used to show in the old zombie movies either.
Shit. I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m actually comparing real life to a fucking zombie movie. They’re dead and walking and killing. I don’t know what else to call them but zombies. I shake my head in disgust. Ridiculous…. Where was I? Yeah….
In the time it took for her to decide to stop screwing around and go back the way she came, six more had come out of the doorways and alleys behind her and blocked the way she’d came. She actually tried to run toward the new group to get through a large gap between two of the things but as she got close they lurched towards her to close the space. She stumbled back to get away from them but didn’t fall. I could see it all from up here. They were making a circle around her and slowly closing in. She panicked again and just started turning in circles as they got closer and closer. She had no chance against ten of the things and even then I could see dozens more of them coming from every doorway, alley and storefront. Somehow they must know when food is near. When the circle closed enough, a few of them lunged towards her. That’s when I turned away and just slumped down against the small section of wall beneath the window sill.
“I don’t need to watch this,” I€™d said to myself as I put my face in my hands and just started sobbing. Sobbing like a child because I’m so helpless and scared. Even though I know that they were three states away from here when all this started, that scene in the street could have been my beautiful wife and precious little daughter. My daughter’s only 16 months old! How could this be happening? The phone in the room and my mobile phone are both dead. Nothing seems to work except the electricity. That’s something, but I have no way to find out if my family is even alive much less safe. I know that what’s happening to my leg makes it even more unlikely that I’ll ever find out what happened to them. I hope they’re safe; it’s all I can do.
This morning I got the nerve to look outside in the hallway. My leg wasn’t hurting quite as much then as it is now. I leaned against the door of the room with my ear pressed against the wood. I listened for the faintest sound of movement or anything else that might mean that they were out there waiting for me. After a few minutes I had decided there was nothing out there. As quietly as I could, I pulled back the slide lock and turned the deadbolt to unlock the door. The latch made the faintest of clicks as I twisted the knob and slowly opened the door wide enough to peek outside in case those things were smart enough to try and trick me. I saw nothing so I pulled the door open enough to look around the immediate area and still nothing. I limped through the doorway to look down the hallway and only saw the silhouette of one of those creatures against the picture window at the opposite end of the hall. It looked like it was kneeling down in front of what I assume was another person. It was definitely eating but at least it was preoccupied and didn’t notice me.
When the immediate threats were accounted for I spent some time looking around. I noticed that all the doors were closed except one. It was open just a few inches as if it were propped open for some reason. There was a long blood smear drying brown on the gold wallpaper and a dark stain on the carpet closer to the elevators. As far as I know both of those could have been from my trip back to my room after my leg was bitten. I also noticed just past the elevator lobby and partially blocking my view of the zombie at the other end was a maid’s cart which looked like it might still be intact. That thing could be the difference between me dying of starvation if I can just reach it. I had been holding the door to my room open in case I needed to jump back in but I let it go as I started towards the abandoned cart. And as fast as my newfound enthusiasm had taken hold of me, my panic took over even faster as I lunged back for the door to catch it before it closed. My hand slapped against the wood as my wounded leg buckled under the stress. I bit my lip to hold back the scream and I hit the floor hard with the door adding insult to injury by mashing my fingernails in the door jam. Tears welled up in my eyes as I quietly whimpered in pain from my leg, fingers and lip and all I could think was how stupid I almost was. If the door had shut the electronic lock would have engaged and locked me out forever.
I pulled myself closer to push the door the farther open and give my aching fingers some relief. I noticed the room service tray from my breakfast on the day the shit hit the fan was still sitting out here on the floor with the dirty dishes on it. As quietly as I could I removed the dishes and used the tray to block the door from closing. Once I was positive that the door couldn’t latch I finally let it go and checked on the feasting silhouette. I was relieved to see that it was still at the other end and working on devouring its victim. With a great deal of pain I was able to stand myself up again and I slowly limped towards the housekeeping cart. I paused outside the room I noticed earlier that had its door propped open. I was only able to see a sliver of light past the door and couldn’t make out anything else. I looked down to see what was blocking the door and saw that it was the arm of what could only have been a young child. I assume this because it was only the hand and arm up to the bloody stump that would have connected it to a shoulder. I looked up again at the sliver of light and my heart skipped a beat because I thought I caught a glimpse of movement from inside. I froze in the fear of not knowing if what I saw was real or just some trick of light and shadow in my brain. I stared at that crack for what must have been five minutes before I decided that it must have been my over-excited imagination. I slowly tore my gaze from the door and back to the cart.
As I limped my way down the hallway using the wall as support I could feel the occasional dripping of blood on my foot or ankle from the hole in my leg. When I got close to the elevator lobby I slowed down again to see if I could hear anything. I got to the edge of the wall and took a peek around the corner: nothing. I’m guessing those things aren’t smart enough to figure out the elevators or anything. I walk into the open space and continue on towards the cart. I looked past the cart and I could still see the shape of the zombie at the far end near the window. As I got closer to the cart, maybe within ten feet or so, I saw the creature swing its head around towards me and it started making a loud and low moan or growl. I hesitated for a moment but then picked up the pace as much as I could and finally reached the cart. As I leaned against the cart and tried to catch my breath I saw the thing start to stand up in the awkward way they all seem to move: like a newborn horse trying to keep up with its instincts. I watched with sick fascination as it finally righted itself and started towards me.
The pain in my leg flared up again and forced me to focus on the cart again. I knew I only had a minute or two to get anything off this cart and get back to my room before the creature reached me and the cart. I frantically searched through the linens till I found a pillow case to put things into. Once I got that opened up I threw in a couple of water bottles, two bags of pretzels, four candy bars and a toothbrush set I happened to notice. By that time the dead man was much more visible as it had already made up about half the distance to where I stood in that amount of time. Like I said earlier, they’re slow, just not slow enough. I knew if I didn’t leave soon I may not be able to keep my distance with the wound in my leg. It seemed like the closer the thing got, the worse my leg hurt. I sifted through lower drawers on the cart and found a small stash of those tiny bottles of liquor and grabbed as many as I could. I checked on the zombie€™s progress and dared to look through the cart just a bit longer. I was rewarded with two cans of soda, an extra roll of toilet paper and a small transistor radio. I threw those things into the pillowcase and checked on my “neighbor from down the hall.”
I almost froze in fear when I saw that it had made up over half the remaining distance and was no more than twenty or twenty-five feet away. It took another step towards me and I realized that I could smell it. The lingering stench of decay overshadowed the coppery smell of fresh blood that could be seen like a red surgeon’s mask covering its nose and down to its chin and dripping down its neck and chest. It had been a man at one point but hard to tell how old. The lips were gone and the teeth fully exposed as I’d seen on quite a few of them, including the one that bit me. I imagine that since they can’t feel any pain that they don’t even notice that they chew their own lips off as they feed on their victims. I remember feeling panic rising up inside me as it took another step closer and slowly started opening and closing its teeth as if it were getting warmed up. It took another step and I finally realized that if I didn’t get moving then I would never make it. Not with the hole in my leg sending pulses of pain through me as it got closer and closer.
I maneuvered to the opposite side of the cart and half limped and half skipped to make across the open area of the elevator lobby. I made it to past the elevators and stopped long enough to brace my hand against the wall and look behind me. It was keeping up with me and was probably no more than twenty feet behind me now. I pushed aside the pain as much as humanly possible and moved as fast as I could without feeling like I was going to black out. I was making good progress when I snuck a look behind me to see that it was indeed falling behind but not my much. I suddenly had the amusing thought that I was a white Ford Bronco and the thing behind me was a police car. Stupid pop culture. It was then when I was at my most distracted that I stepped down on my bad leg at just the right angle to send me spilling to the floor. I had been using the right hand wall to support myself since that was the side my room was on. Now as I was scrambling to get up again I found myself on the left side of the hallway. The zombie never stopped and never tried to run. It was like a turtle slow and sure and I was the rabbit who got eaten before the finish line. I hauled myself up again using the wall as leverage once more and started down the hall once more. I had to keep my hand against the wall after each step because of the exhaustion and pain I experienced. Every time I got to another room’s door I ended up putting my hand against it just like the wall, not caring if I was stirring up any other inhabitants. I had no idea of the mistake I was making till I walked in front of the door that had been partially blocked open with the arm.
The door swung wide as my hand hit it and I barely caught myself from falling by catching the door jam with my other hand. I still fell to one knee though due to the pain of my unexpected shift of weight on my leg but also due to the sight inside. I could only see the end of the bed in the room and I saw bones sticking through everywhere from the bite marks in the feet of the person in the bed. The little girl that stood at the end of the bed like a statue slowly turned its face towards me. She was one of them and whoever had been in that bed had been her meal. One of her eyes was missing and long gash had already blackened across what probably would have been an adorable face only a few days ago. She looked she might have been eight or nine years old by her size. When she saw that what had opened her door was a living person she turned her whole body towards me. It was then that I saw that the entire left side of her was covered in brownish red dried blood from where her arm had been ripped away from her what used to be her shoulder. The side of her body was so torn apart it was hard to tell if she had been killed before or after her arm had been removed. She started towards me and I realized that the smell of decay was getting stronger every second. I knew that the zombie in the hall had closed in on me so I didn’t even bother to look as I turned away and forced myself to limp to my room.
I was only about ten feet from my door when I unconsciously swung my head around to see where they were. The man was less than ten feet from me and the girl was just pulling the door to her room open as it had closed against her arm again after I’d left. I saw that the tray had held my door open and as I got within a few feet I lunged towards the door and let my body weight open it for me. I pulled myself inside and kicked the tray out of the way with my good leg while I turned over onto my back. I watched as the powerful hydraulic door closer seemed to work in slow motion to shut out my pursuers. My heart was pounding in my chest as I watched the door close and, just like in those old movies, I saw the things fingers curl around the edge of the door to stop its movement. I was still lying in front of the door and I watched the hand start to push the door open again. At that point all I remember was anger and rage, the fear that had gripped me was entirely gone. With every bit of energy I had left I pulled my good leg back and kicked at the door as hard as I could. The door closed fast but the bone and meat of the fingers stopped it from closing entirely and latching. The fingers flexed and the door started to open once more. I remember yelling as loud as I could as I kicked the door again and heard a satisfying crunch of bone. I kicked again and again until one by one the fingers broke off and landed on the floor. When the last finger snapped and fell the door slammed shut and I could hear the electronic lock click in place.
I know I must have laid on the floor in front of the door for thirty minutes just trying to calm down and control my breathing. I think it was then that I realized that the pillow case full of food and supplies wasn’t lying next to me. I sat up and looked all around me but it wasn’t there. I started crying… or laughing… I don’t know which or if it was both. All the pain and exhaustion and fear were for nothing because I had dropped the bag and didn’t even realize that I had or where. Probably when I fell in the middle of the hall or maybe when that door opened. I don’t know. All I do know is that I don’t have it now.
So here I am now sitting on the floor propped up against the side of the bed. There’s a smeared trail of blood leading from the place where I had lain in front of the door to where my wounded leg is now. I take the blood soaked pillow case off my leg as it’s just dripping blood at this point. My leg can do that just fine without the linens help. The blackened edges have grown into blackened patches all around the bite. The purple spider web patterns have become bigger and I imagine that they are spreading as well. I pull off my white undershirt to use as a new bandage and see that my assumptions were right. I can see the leading edge of purple lines creeping up my stomach. I’m dying. It’d crossed my mind but I didn’t really believe it until now. Now I know that I will probably be dead within a day and I’ll never see my wife and child again. I let out a feeble sob but I can’t even cry anymore. I’m too weak to make it to the bathroom to get water out of the sink and I haven’t eaten anything in almost two days. I’m far beyond dehydrated and I can’t tell the difference between the sounds my stomach is making and the growling moans coming from outside my door.
I realize that I’m feeling weaker and weaker and the cold sweats seem to be a constant thing now. I struggle to turn my head to look at the clock on the nearby nightstand. 3:12 is what it shows in its big green digital numbers with a little green dot off to the side. I squint to read what’s written next to the dot but my eyes are dry and my vision seems to be getting a little fuzzy around the edges. I start to turn my head away when I see my mobile phone on the night stand. I think of my family once again and realize that I feel like I’m drunk. I can’t even picture their faces anymore. How can I not remember their faces? I will my arm to rise up and I reach for the phone. It’s too far out of reach and just end up slumping over onto my left side. I don’t even feel any pain from falling or my leg anymore. Maybe it’s getting better.
It’s a struggle but I prop myself up on one elbow and reach out to grab the phone. I can barely reach it with my fingertips and I claw at it desperately as it slowly slides towards me and then falls to the floor. I pick the phone up and stare at it blankly as I vacantly wonder why I can’t see the buttons to dial. Slowly I begin to remember that I need to open up the flip phone to use it. I don’t know why I feel this way but I also notice that I am suddenly very aware of my own heartbeat pulsing in my ears. I realize that I had been hearing this for a while now but hadn’t paid any attention to it till now. I notice it now because it sounds like it’s getting louder and louder as the beat gets slower and slower. It’s all I can focus on as my once nimble fingers struggle to open the phone. My heartbeat is pounding in my head like the slowing rhythm of a train pulling to a stop at a train station. I finally get the phone open and stare at the small color screen. I can’t even react when I see that the symbol for no service is gone and has been replaced by a single small bar. My vision blurs even more as the pounding beat in my head slows to frequency and intensity of a construction site pile driver. The screen blurs completely as I fumble for the quick-dial key for home. The last thing I could see on the small screen was the blurry outline of the number two. I try to reach the glowing spot that should be the call button but the world goes dark on me. I can’t feel the weight of the phone in my hand or tell if my fingers are moving. I’m suddenly very relaxed and tired. I just need to sleep for a bit; too much excitement earlier. I just need to sleep and then I’ll call home when I wake up. When I wake up.
June 26, 2007 1:00 pm 2 Comments
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By yoshi, June 27, 2007 @ 8:11 pm
Because you said there were no comments. I read, but didn’t comment, because I’m waiting for day 4. LOL good stuff.
By Christy, June 28, 2007 @ 12:10 am
I think the guy in Day 3 should be named Frank Stearnum.