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there's more than one of them.”
     
    “All right. I'll be right down. Lock yourself in your office.”
     
    “Hell with that. I'm coming upstairs.”
     
    “All right. Just be careful.”
     
    She hung up and stepped into the hallway. From down the hallway, the elevator dinged. As she started toward down the hallway, someone turned the corner. It was a woman in a stained hospital gown. She saw Lori and charged.
     
     

 
    Chapter Eight
     
    Emma grabbed her Mossberg twelve gauge from the rack inside the patrol car. She had a second shotgun secured in a rack in the trunk. She gave that one to George, then divided the shells between them. They each had fifteen, which she hoped would be enough.
     
    George loaded shells into the shotgun. “What's the plan?”
     
    “We need to go floor-by-floor and search for those things. Secure patients. Lock them in if we have to until help gets here. I had Orr put in a call to the Army base up in Watertown.”
     
    “That's hours from here.”
     
    “We need the help. This shit's beyond us, partner,” Emma said. “Ready?”
     
    “As I'll ever be,” George said.
     
     
    Inside the emergency room was bedlam. A chorus of moans and screams filled the air. Nurses scurried back and forth, trying to tend to the now full gurneys. And against one wall were five gurneys with blood-stained sheets covering the bodies underneath. Emma wanted to talk with Doctor Weiss and found him stitching up a black woman's arm.
     
    Emma told them of her plan to sweep the hospital floor-by-floor.
     
    “Just the two of you?”
     
    “I have a call in to Fort Drum up in Watertown. They started this. Let them help finish.”
     
    Weiss tied off a suture. “I know some of the flu patients were in ICU. Fourth floor. Probably four through six is where you'd find the majority. Seven is maternity. Eight is surgery. Nine is peds.”
     
    “All right George. Move it,” Emma said.
     
     
    Lori gave a quick thought to ducking in her office and locking the door. It was made of solid wood and would hold, but would also mean she'd be trapped. Instead, she turned and ran.
     
    The basement was basically a big square built around the elevator shafts in the center. If she could keep making right hand turns, she'd end up at the elevators.
     
    She reached the corner, turned. Behind her, the woman's bare feet slapped the floor tile.  Ahead of her was a long corridor lined with storage rooms. If she turned right, then right again, she'd be at the elevators.
     
    An enormous crash echoed in the basement. It was followed by snarling, gurgling yells. They had broken through the morgue door.  She nearly reached the end of the corridor when the fat, naked freak appeared. He had gone the other way, turning right at Lori's office and cutting her off from the elevators. She heard the woman approaching from behind and looked around. There was a supply closet to her left and she tried the handle. It gave and she slipped inside. There was a desk and some office chairs against one wall. There was a door at the rear of the room.
     
    She shoved the desk in front of the door and piled the chairs on top. Then she dialed Mike's cell and prayed for him to pick up. He answered. “Mike, I'm trapped in the basement.”
     
    “Whoa. How?”
     
    “I'm in a closet. Those things are after me.”
     
    “Okay. Where?”
     
    “Make a right out of my office, then another right. There's a supply closet about halfway down the hall. I'm in there.”
     
    “On my way. Hold tight.”
     
    She backed away from the door and looked around. Metal shelving lined one wall and she noticed a red tool box. There might be something she could use for a weapon in there.
     
    Something slammed against the door, and the barricade rattled but didn't budge. She opened the tool box and found a claw hammer and a screwdriver. Not much, but better than no weapons at all. She took them out.
     
    The door rattled again, this time shoving the desk backwards.