The Real Night of the Living Dead Read Free Page B

down to the blood stains on my shirt, then back to Oksenberg who looked as if he wanted to pass out, then I looked past him. My lips trembled as I saw four of these creatures headed our way.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    Melvin saw the four move toward me and the medical staff, and he was about to run our way when a woman patient grabbed his shirt. She moaned as she tried pulling him close. He reacted by trying to shove her away, but she continued, trying to force herself on him. Drool ran down the corners of her mouth and off her chin as the vaccine in her blood made her into a starved, sick maniac.
    My friend was the sort of guy who would never harm a woman, but it was obvious he had no other choice. She charged again. Her moans turned to screams. With her arms outreached, she gripped his T-shirt and pulled. He slapped her hard across the face, and she stumbled back; her grip still tight on his T-shirt.
    The man who Melvin was going to help off the floor was holding onto the frame of the bed, pulling himself up; his dead eyes on my friend the entire time.
    Melvin was struggling to break the woman’s grip. His hands were squeezed tight around her wrists, and his face was turning red. She tried launching her head toward his arms; her teeth ready to take a bite. He let go of her wrist and pulled his one arm away, just missing losing some flesh to the crazy woman.
    Now the man from the floor was on his feet and trying to grab Melvin. Melvin screamed and stepped back, letting go of the woman’s other wrist in the process. After a few steps, he stumbled over his own foot and fell onto the bed of another patient. This patient, a man, was one of about five who were shackled. With his one free hand he grabbed Melvin, who was lying across his chest at the moment, by his hair and tried pulling him up to his mouth.
    Melvin saw the yellow eyes coming closer to him. He wasted no time and pushed himself off the bed, leaving a handful of hair in the shackled man’s hand. Standing now, he saw the woman rushing toward him. He darted out of her path, and she crashed into the window, shattering it. Broken glass fell on the woman and out the window.
    Part of her was dangling outside. Her hands flailed, the broken glass slicing them open as she tried to pull herself back inside. Melvin couldn’t keep his eyes on her; the patient who he was planning on helping off the floor a few minutes ago was pushing him against the wall. He ripped Melvin’s T-shirt at the shoulder and was trying to sink his teeth into his flesh.
    Melvin shouted for help as he stretched out his arms, trying to push the man away. The man clawed at his face, leaving three bloody lines from his temple down to his cheek.
    My friend balled up his hand into a tight fist and slammed it into the man’s face. Blood trickled down his nose, but he kept attacking.
    The woman placed her bloody hands around the edges of the window frame and pulled herself in. Pieces of glass from the shattered window were stuck in her face and arms. Her face and hair had blood running from all the gashes, and it was smearing into her faded flowered dress.
    Melvin was still punching the man. He landed so many blows to his face that his nose was now broken and most of his front teeth were either chipped or knocked out all together.
    Melvin turned to his left and saw the woman standing at the window frame, covered in blood. He grabbed the man by his shirt and spun him around toward the woman. The man slammed into her, causing her to launch back to the broken window. This time, she was sent sailing out, taking whatever broken glass remaining in the frame with her.
    As Melvin continued fighting the man, a loud thump was heard from outside, twenty-five feet below. The man had his hands wrapped around the back of Melvin’s head now and was trying to pull him close. My friend put one hand around the man’s neck, and one hand was pulling his hair. He pushed the raging lunatic back toward the