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Looking back, Dan could see a couple EMTs pushing an uncontrollable girl on a stretcher. She kicked and fought, the strings holding her down beginning to draw blood. She turned her head towards Dan and snapped her mouth in the air, her gray eyes hungering for him.
    "You coming?" asked the cop.
    They were in the elevator already, Dan had to hustle to get in before the doors closed.
    "Dis ain't no good," said Barns as the elevator began to rise. "It look like the hospital be losing control uh da building!"
    The cop slammed his hand against the wall. "What the fuck is happening! It's got to be some form of rabies, or maybe bath salts."
    "You think?" Dan asked, "two hundred attacks seems pretty horrific for a rabies outbreak and I don’t think you can get someone high on bath salts by biting them."
    "Whatever it is, it has been traveling from host to host through body fluid. We got the first recorded account last night, first the attacker and then the victim. We thought it was only those two people, you are seeing how wrong we were."
    The doors parted and they were introduced to a scene even more dismaying than the lobby. It was the sound that reached them first, screams, cries and moans. The moans, they were so dominant that they resonated through the air like a bass drum. Hospital beds lined the halls, sickly people were tied to them. Some fought savagely against the restraints that held them down, others, the ones who looked the worst, moved slowly, groaning as they reached out in hunger. Doctors ran back and forth, checking on everybody, careful to keep away from their patients’ mouths.
    Dan stayed as far away from the hospital beds as the hall would allow, almost brushing his shoulders on the opposite wall, as they made their way to the cop’s room.
    When they found it and entered, the cop was handcuffed to his bed looking sickly and pale white.
    "Dicky," he said. "You made it."
    The cop that was with them, Dicky, took off his hat and walked up to the bed. "They hand cuffed you."
    The cop looked down at his hand. "It was my idea, they are running out of ways to restrain people. Used my own cuffs."
    "What happened, I was just with you not that long ago," Dicky said.
    The cop coughed and blood peppered the white sheets. "I don't know, it is happening so fast. I called my wife but I don't want her coming into the city to see me. Told her to head to her sister’s."
    "That's smart, you’re still thinking clearly," Dicky said. "Let's get you out of here."
    The cop in bed shook his head, "I'm fighting a losing battle, I can feel it." He reached down under the sheets with his free hand, the one wrapped in a bandage. He came up holding a pistol.
    Barns and Dan both took a step back, they had seen what these crazies were doing bare-handed, they didn't want to find out what they would do with a gun.
    He handed it to Dicky, "Take it, I have a feeling you might need it." He struggled to reach down and pull a few clips of ammunition. "Now get the hell out of here. Get the hell out of the city while you’re at it."
    "I won't leave," Dicky said. Taking the ammunition and filling his pockets, he tucked the extra gun into the back of his pants.
    "Don't be stubborn, Dicky." He froze, his eyes rolled back in his head and he began to have a seizure.
    Dicky grabbed his legs and tried to hold him still. He shook back and forth, foam and blood spattering from his mouth. It went on for a moment and then he was still.
    Dan held his breath, Dicky was still standing there, holding his legs.
    "I think he dead," said Barns.
    That was when the cop lurched forward, sitting up in the bed, and reached for Dicky. Only the handcuffs held him back as he screamed and stretched, drool seeping off his jaw in strings.
    The cop tugged and yanked, blood began to pour from his wrist and the railing to the bed looked as though it were going to snap.
    Dicky stood up and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "No, Jimmy, no."
    "What do we do?" Dan asked.
    Dicky pulled