Free The Last Town (Book 3): Waiting For The Dead by Stephen Knight Page B

thunder. As Reese looked up at them, he noticed that several windows in the hospital had been shattered. The Max Factor Family Tower that loomed over the entrance to the emergency department was pockmarked from gunfire. Entire windows had been shattered, leaving behind dark, empty gaps in the facade that made Reese think of missing teeth. The remains of an ambulance sat nearby, its twisted form absolutely riddled from bullets and, he guessed, one or two grenades, as well. The street was cracked and cratered in places. A child’s severed hand lay next to the curb.
    “Hey, what the hell happened here?” Reese asked one of the Guardsmen standing security over the food truck.
    “The zombies are everywhere, sir,” said the Guardsman. Reese didn’t recognize him, but the younger man’s eyes were red and narrowed into slits. To Reese, it looked like he’d been crying, but more like he was just run out. He clutched his M4 rifle across his chest, holding onto it with gloved hands as if it was his only lifeline. Judging by the amount of brass cartridges littering the street beneath Reese’s feet, maybe it was.
    “They come out of that ambulance over there?” Bates asked as he stepped into the food line.
    “Some did,” the Guardsman said. He looked like he was going to add something, but must have either lost his train of thought or figured it wasn’t important. Instead, he pointed up at the windows of the building overhead. “Most of them came out of the hospital. About a dozen of the fuckers jumped right out, trying to land on us. It was intense.”
    “And this is where I ask if you guys cleared the building, since we’re standing right under it,” Reese said.
    “It’s been cleared, sir. And we run patrols through it around the clock. Anyone who passes away gets drilled right through the head.” As the Guardsman spoke, a single shot cracked above them. The report was muffled by walls. “Just like that.”
    “You do wait until they’re dead, right?”
    The Guardsman looked like he didn’t want to answer the question. “I do,” he said, and left it at that.
    Reese stepped into line behind Bates. Bates took a breakfast burrito, two plain doughnuts, and coffee. Reese had the same. They stood with the rest of the cops near a sandbagged revetment topped with concertina wire and quickly ate. A haggard LAPD lieutenant Reese recognized spotted him and walked over.
    “Hello, Newman,” Reese said, imitating the greeting from Seinfeld as well as he could with a mouthful of hot burrito.
    “Reese,” the newcomer said. “You’re the relief rotation site commander?”
    “Looks like it.”
    Lieutenant Newman looked at him with eyes that appeared to be absolutely shell-shocked. “I lost four guys last night,” he said. “You want to make sure your command is ready and able to fight. It’s only getting worse.”
    “We had some trouble yesterday as well,” Reese said.
    “Yeah, inside, right? Listen, there are parts of the hospital that we don’t go into anymore. We let the Guard handle it. Something happens, they go in, they clean house. Sometimes not all of them come out, and sometimes, there’s collateral damage. It’s just the way it is, all right?”
    Reese frowned. “You mean you let the Guard take over from the LAPD?”
    Newman snorted humorlessly. “It’s a fucking war, Reese. We’re cops, they’re soldiers. Who would you want to send into a firefight? We had a team from Metro roll in at four thirty in the morning to help out. They never rolled out.”
    Bates looked up. “What do you mean, Lou?”
    Newman looked at him with his dull, lifeless gaze. “They went down. Hard. Some of them are still up there, but they’re not exactly serving and protecting any longer.” A quick flurry of gunshots rang out from inside the hospital, and heads turned toward the building. Newman nodded slowly.
    “That’s the Guard, taking care of them. But Reese, listen, there’s something else you need to know. It’s