Zombie Rehab: Impact Series - Book 2
Craig Halloran
Zombie Rehab
Impact Series: Book 2
CRAIG HALLORAN
Zombie Rehab: Impact Series: Book 2
Copyright August 2012 by Craig Halloran
TWO-TEN BOOK PRESS
P.O. Box 4215, Charleston, WV 25364
www.twotenbookpress.com
ISBN Paperback: 978-0-9884642-1-6
ISBN Ebook: 978-0-9884642-0-9
Edited by Cherise Kelley
Cover by Ronnell Porter Designs
Information about this author and his other works available at:
www.thedarkslayer.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system and transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in review.
Publisher's Note:
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Zombie Rehab
Impact Series: Book 2
CRAIG HALLORAN
CHAPTER 1
Location Unknown
He was moving under a series of bright fluorescent lights. The glare hurt his eyes, but he was determined to keep them open. He had to figure out where he was. His mind fought to regain control of his body, which strained against the leather bonds that had him strapped to the gurney. At least, he thought he was fighting, but his limbs were more like jelly, and his mind was mush. The only thing he recognized was the thump-thump of the gurney wheels rolling over the tiles of the long corridor.
He could have sworn he was hung over and being pushed in a grocery cart over an unpaved parking lot. He retched. His mouth filled with the tang of bile. A blurry figure jerked his head up and was shouting something unintelligible. He was dizzy; the lights above were beginning to blur together like the white dashes on a highway. A sharp pain pierced his arm, causing him to break out into a cold sweat. What is going on?
There were several of them, shaped like men but moving like ghosts. He tried to find an outline, recognize a face, let his mind find something that was familiar. Instead, there was nothing, just a corridor that began to swirl and spin into a vortex. He felt euphoria as his frantic eyelids became heavy and he plunged into the darkness.
***
His eyes snapped open. Something was chiseling on his face. His body convulsed and shuddered as a group of faceless people scrambled and screamed.
“He’s resisting! He’s resisting! Dammit, who prepped him! Get the anesthesiologist.”
Bloodied gloves were holding sharp shining objects, and the ghosts began to rush around him. A pair of eyes looked deep into his, large and disturbing.
“Give him more! Give him more …”
He faded into a bright patch of lilies.
***
He woke up incapacitated and in pain. His eyes flickered open only to gaze at the darkness of a quiet room. There was a smell of chlorine and ammonia in the air, and urine, too. Inside his sluggish mind he sensed someone else in the room, at his side, gazing with heavy eyes.
“Mrmphh …” he moaned.
He regretted it. His jaw felt like it was broken, and the rest of his face seemed like a busted vase. Ah … I don’t understand! Help me someone! Help me!
A shadow was moving by his side, silent. Perfume. It was nice, like something from heaven. A figure crossed in front of him, this shape more defined than the last, comely, tangible, real. No, don’t leave me! The figure passed into a dark frame and vanished. His eyes began to water. He wanted to move his arms and legs, but he couldn’t feel them. He began to wonder if he even had them. Something soft was obstructing part of his view, like cotton, tape, or gauze. Hospital? Hospital!
He tried to remember the last thing that happened to him. His mind was so dreary, exhausted like a car that had run out of gas. Nothing seemed capable of unlocking the vault of knowledge that was within him. It was blocked, either by his own desire or something else. He knew he should be able to remember something, but he couldn’t.
There were sounds now. He could hear the hum of an air conditioner and feel the cool air rushing on his eyes.
Beep..Beep..Beep.
It was a steady sound that he found comforting. He was somewhere, and he was alive. That had to be a good thing. He just wished his face didn’t hurt so much. What had happened to him? Where in the world was he? As he stared up at the ceiling, he noticed the tiles were loose and water stained, and there was a drip coming from somewhere, landing on the floor and not in a sink. He began to wonder how it was he could understand what these things were but he couldn’t remember a thing about who he was. Everything was confusing.
“Mrmphh! MRMRPHH!”
Pain exploded in his face, and the beeping at his bedside began to increase its pace. Two figures in light green scrubs rushed upon him from the darkened doorway. One was a man and the other a woman, he could tell that much, but they were both faceless. As he turned his neck to get a better look it felt like someone was driving a stake in his neck.
“Hrrumph!” he tried to say help.
Tears were filling his eyes as his mind pleaded for them to say something to him … anything. He felt a delicate hand dabbing the water from his eyes with a soft towel. He felt like his heart was going to burst, the feeling of humanity so close to touching him. He just wanted to reconnect, try to find out if he was still a human. Why can’t I feel my limbs? Why? He felt the hand pulling away, and he let out an audible sob. NO! Come back!
He could make out the pair, huddled at the end of the bed. The man towered over the woman, and even though he was whispering, his voice was as deep as a well and callous as a stone.
“Do not let him revive again, you idiot.”
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” she said with a quiver in her voice, “I swear I haven’t missed a single dose. Not one, and I‘ve checked the other shifts, too.”
“Shut up, I don’t need your feeble explanation. Give me his chart!”
As he lay in the bed he could see the doctor scribbling something on the clipboard. Then the big man shoved the clipboard into her hand and said, “That dose should take care of it, for another month at least.”
What! Another month! I’ve been under for a month? No. That can’t be!
He swore he could feel the bones in his face seeping into his brain, and even though he couldn’t remember anything, he could recall despair. Something deep down inside him triggered a small chip of memories, horrible ones, something that had just happened that he'd just as soon forget. The doctor’s unpleasant tone interrupted his thoughts.
“Nurse, I don’t want to have to remind you that if you screw this up again … I’ll be getting rid of you. And you know what that means, don’t you?”
He could hear her sobbing reply, “Y-yes sir, I m mean Doctor Zhan—”
Slap!
He could feel his own cheek stinging from the blow as the nurse crumpled to the ground.
Hey! Why’d you hit her for?
“Mrmmf Fumphnhr!” It hurt so bad to say it he almost blacked out, and his stomach began to churn. He could hear the man walking away on heavy footsteps as the woman struggled to rise from the ground. He watched as her fuzzy outline slowly stepped behind him. He heard the sound of a small plastic wheel grinding and then something ice cold ran in his veins.
“NO!”
The pain was so bad, but he would rather deal with that than be knocked out for another m
onth. Then he saw her face before his: round, sweet, and black. She was whispering something in his ear.
“It’s gonna be okay, Honey. It’s going to be okay, just hang in there.”
Please tell me where I am?
As the pain began to subside, he felt something warm squeezing his hand. It was her hand in his, and it felt wonderful as he drifted away into a dreamless slumber.
