Free Sudden Death: A Zombie Novel by James Carlson Page A
Authors: James Carlson
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
directly into his eyes and mouth. Normally, the CS would reduce a person to a blind choking mess in seconds, but it had no effect whatsoever on the injured man. He had been warned back at training school that the spray rarely had any effect on either animals or the insane. After a couple of seconds, the canister spluttered out its last few drops. The copper launched it at the madman and it bounced uselessly off the bridge of his nose.
Muz then turned and leapt into the back of the ambulance, barely even noticing the woman in her nightdress, strapped to the gurney, or the male paramedic collapsed in one corner with a badly twisted, broken neck. He tried to pull the rear door closed, but the almost naked madman was too quick, thrusting himself in the way. Muz pulled on the handle anyway, slamming the man’s head repeatedly between the metal frame and the heavy swinging door. Only when he heard the man’s head crack did he instinctively stop, shocked by what he had done.
He ’d fractured the man’s orbit. A shard of curving bone surrounding the eye had snapped off and pierced the gelatine orb. The man shrieked horribly in pain, but still, his attempts to reach Muz didn’t stop. As he struggled with the coordination necessary to drag himself up into the ambulance, Muz backed off towards the front of the vehicle, looking frantically all around him for a weapon of some kind.
His eyes fell upon a small fire extinguisher , clipped to a wall and he snatched it from its mounting. As the man in the stained underwear at last managed to pull himself up and into the ambulance, Muz swung the heavy metal cylinder at his head, deliberately aiming for the already broken eye socket.
The man responded to the blow by uttering a bizarre squealing sound, like a kettle venting steam, shook his badly wounded head, then lunged again at Muz. The copper beat him repeatedly and mercilessly with the heavy extinguisher, feeling its solid weight in his hand breaking bone. Only when the man’s cranium had been reduced to shattered fragments, stabbing into mulched grey brain tissue, did his attack on Muz come to a stop. His eyes rolled up into the top of his head and he slumped over.
Muz was so knackered by the fight that he collapsed back against the gurney, completely spent of all energy. Each exaggerated breath he drew was so laboured that it came with a rasping snarl. He continued to watch the madman warily. Although he should be completely dead, his hands still clawed slowly and pathetically at the floor of the ambulance and his jaw continued to weakly masticate.
Something was far from right, Muz thought, as he lay there, struggling to feed his brain with oxygen. He had inflicted horrible injuries on his assailant and the man should have dropped dead, or at least unconscious, long before he actually did. How could a man, even someone as clearly demented as he had been, sustain such wounds and still continue to fight? Muz had never seen anything like it before. It should have been impossible.
Pulling himself tog ether and looking around, he became fully aware for the first time of the presence of the two other people in the back of the ambulance. The paramedic was clearly dead, his head twisted so far around that he was facing over the back of his right shoulder. His neck had probably snapped as a result of being thrown across the interior of the ambulance as it had crashed, Muz thought.
The woman in her nightdress, which had a urine stain in the crotch, was strapped down, lying motionless on the gurney. Her eyes were open and she was regarding him with a complete absence of all expression or emotion. She had probably been conscious and had witnessed the whole terrible fight, Muz thought. For her not to have attempted to wriggle free of her bonds, or even react with a single cry, meant only one thing in Muz’s mind. She was suffering from severe shock.
Her hair was matted with blood. Muz couldn’t actually see a wound amid the mess of
Muz then turned and leapt into the back of the ambulance, barely even noticing the woman in her nightdress, strapped to the gurney, or the male paramedic collapsed in one corner with a badly twisted, broken neck. He tried to pull the rear door closed, but the almost naked madman was too quick, thrusting himself in the way. Muz pulled on the handle anyway, slamming the man’s head repeatedly between the metal frame and the heavy swinging door. Only when he heard the man’s head crack did he instinctively stop, shocked by what he had done.
He ’d fractured the man’s orbit. A shard of curving bone surrounding the eye had snapped off and pierced the gelatine orb. The man shrieked horribly in pain, but still, his attempts to reach Muz didn’t stop. As he struggled with the coordination necessary to drag himself up into the ambulance, Muz backed off towards the front of the vehicle, looking frantically all around him for a weapon of some kind.
His eyes fell upon a small fire extinguisher , clipped to a wall and he snatched it from its mounting. As the man in the stained underwear at last managed to pull himself up and into the ambulance, Muz swung the heavy metal cylinder at his head, deliberately aiming for the already broken eye socket.
The man responded to the blow by uttering a bizarre squealing sound, like a kettle venting steam, shook his badly wounded head, then lunged again at Muz. The copper beat him repeatedly and mercilessly with the heavy extinguisher, feeling its solid weight in his hand breaking bone. Only when the man’s cranium had been reduced to shattered fragments, stabbing into mulched grey brain tissue, did his attack on Muz come to a stop. His eyes rolled up into the top of his head and he slumped over.
Muz was so knackered by the fight that he collapsed back against the gurney, completely spent of all energy. Each exaggerated breath he drew was so laboured that it came with a rasping snarl. He continued to watch the madman warily. Although he should be completely dead, his hands still clawed slowly and pathetically at the floor of the ambulance and his jaw continued to weakly masticate.
Something was far from right, Muz thought, as he lay there, struggling to feed his brain with oxygen. He had inflicted horrible injuries on his assailant and the man should have dropped dead, or at least unconscious, long before he actually did. How could a man, even someone as clearly demented as he had been, sustain such wounds and still continue to fight? Muz had never seen anything like it before. It should have been impossible.
Pulling himself tog ether and looking around, he became fully aware for the first time of the presence of the two other people in the back of the ambulance. The paramedic was clearly dead, his head twisted so far around that he was facing over the back of his right shoulder. His neck had probably snapped as a result of being thrown across the interior of the ambulance as it had crashed, Muz thought.
The woman in her nightdress, which had a urine stain in the crotch, was strapped down, lying motionless on the gurney. Her eyes were open and she was regarding him with a complete absence of all expression or emotion. She had probably been conscious and had witnessed the whole terrible fight, Muz thought. For her not to have attempted to wriggle free of her bonds, or even react with a single cry, meant only one thing in Muz’s mind. She was suffering from severe shock.
Her hair was matted with blood. Muz couldn’t actually see a wound amid the mess of