The Neuropathology Of Zombies (3 page)

PRESENTS

The Neuropathology of Zombies

Peter Cummings, M.D.



A SINISTER PRESS BOOK

The Neuropathology of Zombies
WRITTEN BY Peter Cummings, M.D.
EDITED BY M. Joseph Schuhler Jr
The NeuropathologyofZombies
© 2011 Peter Cummings Library of Congress Control Number:
^2011932432
_ISBN:
978-1-937272-05-0

ALL IMAGES CONTAINED PROTECTED BY COPYRIGHT ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
THIS BOOK IS A WORK OF FICTION. PEOPLE, PLACES, EVENTS AND SITUATIONS ARE A PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, OR HISTORICAL EVENTS IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.

NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED, STORED IN A RETRIEVAL SYSTEM, OR TRANSMITTED BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT THE WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR AND PUBLISHER.

The Sinister Press website is located at www.sinisterpress.com
Available for mass order, contact Sinister Press for information
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
To Uncle George
For introducing me to the boogeyman Acknowledgements

Writing a book is not a solo effort. There were many people involved in this project and I couldn’t have done it without them. Most important: my wife, Sarah and my son Fionn. I wrote this entire novel sitting on Fionn’s bedroom floor while he slept, unaware of the nightmare unfolding around him. Sarah gave me space and quiet time, as quiet as possible anyway, and provided wonderful suggestions about the story and characters. My sister Shawna, thanks for reading it and be so positive. Thanks to my 6th grade English teacher, Dr. Kurt Kraus for everything. I could go on, and I will, no one reads this section anyway, except for the people who hope they get acknowledged. Thanks to Suzan and Colleen for being absolute jerks about me writing a zombie book, the teasing was appreciated. Thanks to Dr. Beatriz Lopes for teaching me about the wonderful world of neuropathology. And thanks to all at the Zombie Research Society, Matt and Brad, you guys are great. And a final special thank you to my mom, for letting me stay up to watch late night horror movies when I should have been in bed; and for the record, they never gave me nightmares.

PART 1: The Island
CHAPTER 1

Marcus Ellsbury was ill. His wife ran out to the drugstore, returning with a bag full of pills. She opened the door to their hotel room and stepped inside. What stood before her was not her husband, but
something
else. The sound of her scream was silenced by the sudden and violent severing of her spinal cord. Marcus lingered over her dead body, blood dripping from his hands.

Just a few miles away, Sergeant Ramos and Lieutenant Morales absentmindedly watched groups of tourists pass through an outdoor market. Aside from giving directions and the occasional pick pocket, the detail was pretty relaxed. Most of the island’s criminal activity was drug related, and kept to a series of caves and back roads that weaved along the rocky coast line.

The streets were quiet and the lack of action bored the officers. Morales leaned against the wooden pole of a cabana. He pulled the brim of his cap down to hide his sagging eyelids and squinted under his visor, watching a woman haggle over the price of a handmade trinket. Ramos craned his neck and leered at a pack of teenage girls passing by. He whistled under his breath and leaned on the pole next to Morales.

The crackle of radio static at his shoulder snapped Ramos to attention.
“Sergeant Ramos. This is dispatch, do you copy?”
“Roger, dispatch, this is Ramos.”
“We have a report of a possible domestic at the Marina Star,” re-laid the dispatcher.
“Again? Seems like we’ve been there every day this week for domestics. Has their security responded?”
“Don’t know, sir, the caller just said someone heard a scream, didn’t give any other details.”
“Roger that. We’re on our way.”
Morales stretched his arms over his head and yawned, “Marina Star, again? Fucking American’s, always fighting about something.”
The two officers arrived at the hotel within five minutes. They parked their patrol car close to the beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of the scantily clad women sprawled out on the sand. Both men groaned with disappointment when they saw the beach was virtually empty. Surprised by the lack of sunbathers, they sauntered towards the hotel lobby.
Stepping in from the bright sunlight, both men took a few seconds to adjust to the dimly lit foyer. The air was ice cold and Morales felt goose bumps form on his arms. The Lieutenant and Sergeant straightened their posture as they approached the front desk. “You call about a woman screaming?” Morales asked.
The hotel manager closed the registry book and dropped his pen, “Yeah. About fifteen minutes ago an American woman called down and said that she heard a scream in the room next to her. It’s room 784. I’ll take you there.”
The manager stepped out from behind the marble counter and continued to speak, “I saw the woman from 784 this morning, she looked okay to me. She said her husband had a bad cold, I gave her directions to the pharmacy. She was probably the tenth person today that’s asked about a drug store. Seems like everyone in the hotel has a cold right now. It’s taking a big chunk out of my tips, too.”
The three men walked through the lobby towards the elevators. The atrium was decorated with small potted palm trees and bowls of tropical fruit. A large fountain in the middle of the reception area cast sparking yellow flood lights through the bubbling water. Music from the automated sound system echoed off the high tiled ceiling.
The men stepped into the elevator and the sergeant hummed along with the tune playing overhead. Morales used his shoulder to nudge the sergeant, hinting he should be more serious. The doors slid shut and the manager pressed the button for the seventh floor.
The manager led the way, exiting the elevator and turning right, the two officers followed close behind. A bland beige carpet absorbed the sound of their footsteps. The manager stopped and without saying a word, pointed to a door. Morales and Ramos stepped past the manager, slowing their pace as they approached room 784. Several guests stood in the hallway, a few more watched from their opened doors, everyone was waiting for something interesting to happen. The sergeant waved them away.
Lieutenant Morales pressed his ear against the door. The room was silent. He looked towards Ramos, shrugged his shoulders, and gave the door a heavy knock.
“Hello? This is the police. Is everything alright in there?”
There was no response.
The lieutenant waited for a few seconds and then knocked again, pounding on the door this time.
“Hello? This is the police. Can you please open the door?” Morales shouted.
There was still no response. The Lieutenant nodded and the manager plunged a plastic card into the lock; a small green light flickered and the locking mechanism released with a soft click.
The Lieutenant slowly pushed the door open until the entire hallway was in view. He gasped and murmured the words “the virgin mother” as he made the sign of the cross over his chest. The Sergeant elbowed forward, trying to see into the room. His eyes widened and his throat filled with vomit.
The dismembered remains of a body lay on the floor. Streaks of red covered the walls and ceiling. Deep maroon splatters decorated a large sliding glass door, set against the blue sea and illuminated by the afternoon sun, the window had the appearance of stained glass.
It looked like a woman, but it was hard to be sure, the head was missing and the torso was ripped open exposing the hollowed out chest cavity. The internal organs were strewn around the carcass, a trail of intestines led out of the main room and down the hallway. A wet, rusty odor permeated the air.
Lieutenant Morales moved closer and stood over the body. His eyes focused on the razor-sharp edges of the fractured ribs; all of the muscle had been torn from the ribcage, the bare fragments of cartilage and bone looked like spears sticking straight up into the air. Blood dripped onto the floor and pooled at Morales’s feet. A dark maroon puddle seeped into the rug.
Sergeant Ramos turned his head and threw up.
The Lieutenant had seen dead bodies before; he’d been to car crashes and to the homes of little old ladies who’d died in their sleep. But this was different; this was brutal, and intentional.
Distracted, neither officer heard a man shuffling down the hallway. Suddenly, Morales was hauled to the floor. He struck the ground with such force that it knocked the wind out of him. Morales felt a sharp sting on his shoulder and he screamed. He pushed against the ground with all his strength and rolled onto his back, tossing the assailant aside. Morales struggled to get to his feet. But before he could stand the attacker lunged again, landing on the officer’s chest. Morales reached for the nightstick attached to his belt and struck the man. The blows did nothing to thwart the attack. The man sunk his teeth into Morales’s neck.
Ramos ran forward. He struck the attacker with a metal baton, toppling the man on to the floor. The sergeant dragged Morales towards the doorway and shouted to the hotel manager for help, but the manager was already long gone. The crowd of people gathered in the hallway screamed and scattered like flies.
The attacker rose to his feet and let out an ear piercing howl; he sneered and gnashed his teeth like a wild animal. His skin was pale and dull, a large chunk of flesh was missing around his left eye, exposing the socket. The man hunched over, extended his arms, and shambled towards the two officers cowering in the doorway.
Ramos pulled out his gun and fired several shots into the assailant’s chest. The bullets passed through the man’s body, shredding his clothing and spraying droplets of black liquid into the air. Unaffected, the man continued to stagger across the room.
Ramos kept firing. “What is going on?” he yelled.
Finally, a bullet struck the center of the man’s forehead. The attacker fell to his knees. The back of his skull exploded and pieces of brain spattered against the wall behind him.
The Sergeant held down the talk button of the radio strapped to his shoulder and called for help, “Officer down, officer down, Marina Star Hotel, room 784!”
The injured Lieutenant moaned and reached his hand up to the sergeant. He tried to speak but could only produce gurgling sounds.
The two men curled up against the doorframe. Ramos looked at his partner, “Are you alright?” The Lieutenant’s uniform was soaked with blood, it was difficult for Ramos to see where the wounds were located.
Morales closed his eyes and his body went limp. Ramos shook him, “No! No! Come on, stay with me, don’t do this!” The Lieutenant replied with a soft groan.
The room filled with an eerie stillness in the aftermath of the attack. Ramos heard the sirens growing louder. “Not much longer, hold on, old buddy, hold on.” he said, clutching his friend tightly.
Tears ran down the Sergeant’s cheeks and his body trembled as police officers and paramedics crammed into the room. Everyone shouted questions at him. Bemused, all he could do was nod his head. The paramedics lifted Morales onto a stretcher and disappeared down the hallway.
The police chief shook Ramos, “Sergeant! Sergeant! Are you hurt?”
Ramos looked down, he was sodden with the lieutenant’s blood. He hesitated before speaking, “No, I don’t think so.”
“What happened?” the Chief asked, scanning the room.
“We responded to a call for a woman screaming. We entered the room and found the body on the floor,” he sputtered, pointing at the disemboweled corpse lying in front of them. Ramos continued and he pulled himself to his feet, “A man came down the hallway and attacked the Lieutenant. I shot him.”
“Go downstairs and get checked out by the paramedics, then head back to the station,” the Chief commanded.
“Yes, sir. But, I’d like to go to the hospital with Morales.”
“Fine, but have your report to me by the end of the day. I’ll have to ask you more questions later.”
“Yes, sir,” Ramos answered. He walked out of the room and headed for the elevator.
The parking lot of the Marina Star Hotel was filled with emergency vehicles. There were ten police cars and five ambulances on the entire Island, and they were all sitting in front of the resort, their rooftop lights flashing. A crowd gathered, curious about the commotion.
Ramos was stunned by what had just happened. He stumbled out of the hotel and began searching for his partner. The sun was bright and Ramos lifted his hand to his face, shielding himself from the light. Through the glare he saw a trail of blood on the ground leading towards one of the ambulances. He followed the grizzly path. Before he reached the rescue truck his radio screeched, “There’s another body on the fifth floor!”
Ramos shook his head, trying to refocus. He turned back towards the hotel and watched the other officers run into the lobby. He reloaded his weapon and ran after them.
He raced through the parking lot and his radio blasted again, “There’s another attack on the 4th floor, room 429!” The Sergeant could hear people screaming in the background of the transmission. Within seconds the airwaves filled with reports of additional attacks and pleas for assistance.
Ramos joined a group of officers arguing in the lobby.
“I can’t get the Chief on the radio, there’s too much chatter!” one officer said.
“We can’t just stand here, we’re wasting time, we have to do something!” another officer shouted.
A more senior officer stepped in and took over, “We need to split up. We’ll go floor by floor.” He divided the men and gave them specific areas to search; they all raced off in different directions. Ramos headed for the stairs and sprinted up the back staircase. He paused at each floor, listening at the steel fire doors. He heard someone scream as he stood on the third floor landing. Ramos hesitated, took a deep breath, and pushed open the heavy door. He stepped out into the hallway, weapon drawn.
A man knelt on the floor, frantically eviscerating a corpse with his bare hands. Suddenly aware of the intrusion, he looked up at Ramos. The man’s deep, black eyes burned with rage, and his green-tinted skin retracted around his cheek bones, shaping his mouth into an ominous grin. He hissed, spewing globs of fresh blood from between his teeth. The man made wet crackly breathing sounds as he stood and lumbered towards Ramos.
Without hesitating, Ramos fired a shot into the man’s chest. The maniac continued to shuffle towards the sergeant. Ramos dropped to one knee, steadying himself, and fired a second shot directly into the man’s head. The body fell to the ground, quivering as the contents of the skull seeped into the carpet.
The radio shattered the brief moment of silence, startling the sergeant. “Everyone out, repeat, everyone out. Get back to the parking lot!” It was the chief. “Evacuate the hotel!”
Ramos hovered over the two bodies lying in the hallway while the Chief’s static like voice echoed through the corridor. The Sergeant’s mind raced, trying to make sense of everything. “What’s going on?” he said. Another scream came from the opposite end of the hall. Ramos turned and rushed down the staircase.
“Come on, hurry, hurry!” the Chief yelled, waving his hands trying to rush Ramos and two other officers out of the main entrance of the hotel. The Chief slammed the glass door shut and backed away. The attackers numbered in the hundreds and they filled the foyer.
The officers surrounded the Chief and watched in disbelief as the lobby transformed into a blood bath.
Noticing that the music had stopped, Ramos looked away from the feeding frenzy and looked around the parking lot. He heard screams coming from the nearby beach. He looked towards the water and saw a handful of hotel guests running from the shoreline, pursued by stumbling attackers. The officers stood helpless while the scene around them disintegrated.
One of the paramedics rushed over to the circle of police officers and pushed his way to the center of the group. He was panicked, “There’s been an attack at the hospital!”
Before the Chief could respond, the hotel entrance burst open and the bloody mob spilled out into the parking lot. The officers pointed their weapons and fired indiscriminately into the crowd. Bodies dropped to the ground. Seconds after striking the pavement, the bodies stood, and continued towards the officers. There was just no stopping them.
Ramos tried to yell over the sound of the gunfire, “Shoot them in the head!”
Several officers took his advice and began scoring well aimed head shots, this time the monsters stayed on the ground. Despite the change in tactics, the police were overwhelmed, they were far outnumbered.
The chief motioned for the officers to follow him, “Back to the station! We need help, there’s just not enough men!”
The police officers retreated back to their squad cars, continuing to fire into the crowd. Ramos hesitated, and then ran towards the ambulance where his injured partner lay dying. He pushed past the paramedics and grabbed the Lieutenant. Ramos hoisted the lieutenant’s heavy body over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” called out one of the paramedics. “You can’t do that, he’ll die, he needs medical attention, we’ve got to get him to the hospital!”
“He’s going to die anyway. He’s not going to the hospital. It’s not safe!” the sergeant shouted back. He moved as swiftly as he could towards his car and gently placed Morales in the back seat. Ramos tore out of the parking lot, hoping they could make it to the police station.
Ramos pressed the gas pedal into the floor and the vehicle zipped through the narrow streets of the town. He sped through the market where only a half hour ago the outdoor bazaar was filled with tourists enjoying their vacations. Now kiosks were tipped over, carts lay on their sides, and fruits and vegetables were scattered across the ground. Gangs of attackers lumbered through the streets and alleyways. People ran in every direction trying to escape. Ramos took in the chaotic scene as he passed by, not stopping to help.