Chapter 1 Rule 47-C

The Nurse Summers Serials Book 1

Triage

Chapter 1

Rule 47-C

Nurse Summers strode through the hallway with her cart full of medicines and equipment. Her steps were measured, the click of her heels against the checkered tile floor sounding with military regularity. Stopping at the first door on her route, she was relieved that the screaming had stopped. She cracked open the door and found the patient was no longer resisting the restraints.

“Good,” she thought to herself. “The anti-psychotics are working.” She smiled slightly, feeling the muscles protest before giving way to the unfamiliar expression. It wasn’t that she didn’t like to smile, it was that there was too much to be unhappy about here. Usually the patients didn’t respond to medications this soon. There were also the suicide watches, the screaming, and the inevitable realization that some of these patients would never get better. After twenty-four years on the unit she felt that the sadness had seeped into her bones, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything. This was her place, these were her patients.

“Nurse Summers! Nurse Summers!” screamed an orderly, she thought it was Micheal. He slid around the corner, almost falling, before scrambling to meet her. Gasping for breath he collapsed over her cart, eyes wide in panic. “The new guy in two-nineteen, he ripped out Nurse Johnson’s throat and is drinking the blood.”

As Micheal talked she rummaged through her key ring for her special key. Opening the cart's side doors she scanned the contents and found what she needed. She pulled the hickory handle from the cart and beginning to screw it into the base of the hammer head. Micheal stared at her as she assembled the weapon.

“Why are you just standing there?” she snapped. “Rule 47-C: In case of a vampire on the floor you find me, and then get a mop bucket.”

She spun the maul so the large wooden spike on the back faced forward, then let the weight of the spike spin it again.

“If I could only figure out how they keep getting in,” she said. Vampires weren’t going to take over the psychiatric ward on her watch.

Running down the hallway towards room two-nineteen she could hear a clamor at the door. Turning the corner she saw another orderly leaning backwards, holding the door closed as best he could. This orderly was one of the veterans on the staff. Jim had been here two years and spent his quiet evenings studying for the MCAT, this was far from his first rodeo.

“What do we got Jim?” she called to him as she approached. His expression didn’t change, but he began to run off the facts.

“He’s about mid-forties. Looks like he worked construction or some physical labor job. The floor is slick from the blood so he can’t get enough traction for a good pull.” He said.

She slowed as she got to the door, taking a deep breath she looked at Jim and then to the door handle. The door handle clattered twice, the patient trying to pull the door open but failed. She nodded to Jim and the next time the door pulled he released his grip. The door flew open which was followed by a clatter of plastic bowls flying across the room.

“Sorry sir, per the rules of this floor we don’t allow vampires,” she stepped into the room and stood over the man. Around him arterial spray had made the room look like a Jackson Pollock painting. “You’ve also attacked and killed one of our staff meaning your life is forfeit.”

She swung the hammer, two handed as though chopping wood, and brought it down on the man’s femur. There was a snap and the man began to scream. As his mouth opened she could see his teeth stained with blood, his tongue forked, several of his teeth showing large calcified patches around the gums. He’d been around for a while, that much she was certain of now. That only renewed her anger at the screening staff. How had they missed such an obvious sign.

The vampire kicked her feet with his own good leg, but there was power behind it. The traction on her shoes squeaked as she hopped, but they didn’t stop, the slick floor becoming a liability. She fell on her stomach, her feet sliding towards the door, and dropping the maul in order to keep from falling flat in the biggest pool of blood. As she collided with the floor she saw before her the body of Diane Johnson, a nurse who was a veteran of the ward as well, her neck gaping like an open mouth.

“Blood, I need your blood,” the vampire called out. He pulled himself to his feet and to Nurse Summer’s surprise he was able to put weight on his broken femur. She knew that vampires usually could ignore pain, but this was the first time she’d seen one walk with a leg that damaged. He dove towards her, bringing his mouth down towards her throat. 

She scrambled, her hands sliding, unable to find purchase until the last moment. She spun, not enough to avoid his teeth, but enough to catch them on her right shoulder instead. She could feel him trying to bite through the layers of her scrubs, but she didn’t think he would break skin. His teeth were only normal teeth, not the sharpened fangs from the old movies.

“Jim, bar the door!” she yelled as the vampire tried to correct his bite to her throat. He didn’t find her neck this time either, instead she punched him square in the mouth with a satisfying crunch. She felt the two front teeth break off at the gum line and followed it up with another punch, hoping that she could catch him in the nose this time.

“You blood-bag, you’re nothing to me,” the vampire tried to say. The words didn’t come out right, he sounded like he had a lisp now.

Gripping the bed she pulled herself up to her feet and kicked out towards the vampire's thigh, hoping that this time it would finish the break. If her punch could break his teeth than the osteoporosis was setting in heavily. She knew that the big bones had to be vulnerable.

The vampire reached down, trying to catch her kick, to soften the blow. He caught her foot as he jumped backwards and in the landing there was another crunch. A small shriek escaped his lips and he collapsed onto the ground, the bone sticking through the skin.

She balanced precariously on one foot, trying to wrestle her foot from his grip. Her hands clutched the bed and her eyes scanned the area hoping to see where her maul had slid off to. He pulled and then pushed quickly, catching her off guard, and the two of them were back on the floor. This time she didn’t get her hands out in time and she felt her head bounce off of the floor.

“Get over here nurse,” the vampire said, his lisp almost making her laugh. “I need some of your medicine.”

He pulled her towards him gripping the fabric on her leg, trying to pull the material out of her boot. This wasn’t the first time her heavy steel-toes had caused someone to feel a moment of confusion. She hoped she could turn it to her advantage.

On the floor next to Nurse Johnson’s body she could see the billy club Nurse Johnson usually carried with her. She rolled to her stomach and pulled herself towards it, hoping that she could reach it before he started to untie her boots. His fingers were pressing into the skin, she could feel the nails trying to find purchase as he pulled her towards his mouth. She couldn’t let him have control of the situation, she had to do something.

She struggled to pull the foot the vampire held to her chest, but she knew she could do it while he slid around, this didn’t need traction. He pulled harder, his strength increasing as more adrenaline was released into his system. She hoped this wasn’t the big one, the adrenaline release that caused the full frenzy, if it was she might have lost her window.

As the vampire pulled Nurse Summers let him have her foot with a little added strength behind it. The heel of her boot connected with the jaw, causing an audible pop as one side dislocated.

An unintelligible garble escaped his mouth, but she was sliding away from him now, using the kick to send her towards the club. She reached out only to have her hand collide with one of the many parts which lay underneath hospital beds. On the second grab her fingertips managed to close around the handle and she grinned. Behind her she could hear the vampire scrambling to get up, her shoulder finding the beginning of dry tile as she clutched the club to her chest.

Spinning on the floor she twisted, putting one hand down before climbing to her feet. Across the bed she could see that the vampire was finding his feet as well. He was laughing as he gained his full height, balancing on the unbroken leg, and she saw why. 

Cradled in his hand was the worn hickory handle of her maul.

Her thoughts began to spin, he had reach on his side, she had mobility on hers. But she would give almost anything to have the familiar weight of her weapon in her hands.

The vampire tried to say something through his broken teeth and dislocated jaw. She couldn’t make out the words through the crimson foam and spittle, but she was certain that he felt confident with his chances.

“You realize that as soon as you try to pick that up you’ll tip over right?” she asked. She wanted a moment to catch her breath and take stock of the situation. He looked over at the hammer and then back to her, the crazed look never leaving his eyes. She glanced to see if there was anything else she could put between them and noted the tray table sitting an arms length away.

He picked up the maul and stared at her, the grin opening to sickening proportions. He hopped once, then again towards her, the hammer held tight between his hands. She wanted him to get a little bit closer before she moved, if she could get him back into the mess on the floor.

He paused and glanced down at the floor following her own glances, before hopping over towards the door and around the puddle. She cursed herself briefly while turning to keep her front facing him. With the change in angle she’d have to be certain that her plan would work, if she missed she might end up like Nurse Johnson.

Another hop moved him in front of the little door handle and she knew that this could be her one chance. She threw the club at the vampires head, and watched as he ducked, leaning towards his strong side to dodge. It was exactly what she hoped that he would do. 

Grabbing the tray table she spun it and ran at him as hard as she could. The tabletop was level with his ribs as she drove him back to the door. One arm pinwheeled as he started to slip, until the door handle caught his clothing, hanging him a few inches off the floor.

He tried to scramble to his feet, but the only foot he could use was pinned underneath the tray table. She pressed her weight on the table to keep it from moving, but he was still fighting. Several bangs from the hammer on the base of the table in rapid succession almost knocked her off, but he couldn’t get any strength behind it. She had to hope that she could ride it out until the next lull in his adrenaline. The lulls were when they were most accessible to be killed since they almost never slept.

The crunch of splintering bone sounded and she found herself sliding backwards again. He was holding his bad leg with both hands and using it as a bat. It had worked to buy him room, but she could see that the shin could be bent so that the ankle would touch the kneecap. She shuddered at the damage, but any thoughts or revulsion would have to wait.

Her legs collided with the wall at a weird angle and sent the tray-table spinning, throwing her onto the floor. She rolled to her stomach before getting up on all fours. The tray table continued on, colliding with the back wall, before falling over to smash her hand.

Crying out she rolled onto her back, pulling her hand from beneath the table top. A line across the back of her hand was turning purple, she hoped it wasn’t broken.

A scream from the door brought her back to her senses, and she rolled to her side as the maul landed heavily where her head had been a moment before. The tile where the hammer landed was cracked beneath the weight of the weapon. She was glad to see it out of his hands. She got to her knees, picked up the maul, and looked to the door. He was still struggling, his good foot finding no purchase, his shirt hanging him on the door, and his broken leg looking like he was trying to fold it away for storage.

“I already told you sir. For your attacks your life is forfeit. I’m sorry that it came to this,” she carefully walked around the mess on the floor and stood outside of his reach. Bringing the maul up to her shoulder she spun it so the spike would collide first. Then, as she exhaled her breath, she swung it underhanded so the spike pierced through the abdomen and split the heart.

The body started to convulse, blood dripping from where she had pierced his body. The floor became even more of a death trap as she inched her way through and knocked on the door. It took a moment before Jim’s voice sounded on the other side.

“What is the safe word?” he asked cautiously. She could tell that he was standing back from the door. He was one of the good ones, the ones who understood that safety protocols were the most important thing you could follow here.

“Popcorn and applesauce,” she called back through the door. These were the items left on the dessert cart at the end of the rounds. It seemed an odd thing to use as a safe word, but they had to have some way to keep it random.

She heard a few clicks as the locks were removed from the door. After a few moments Jim called from the other side. “The handle is stuck.”

Looking to the body she sighed, moving to dislodge it from the handle. After a minute she got the shirt to rip and he slumped to the floor.

“Try it again Jim,” she called back through the door. Thankfully this time it opened, though only slightly. The man on the floor had formed a doorstop with the handle sticking out of his chest. Jim stood in the doorway with a first aid kit and latex gloves.

“That sounded like it got out of hand,” Jim said looking at her. She nodded back to him and then waited for him to realize he was blocking the door.

“Would you move? I need to go shower and change clothes, I’m a…” her words choked off in her mouth as the first wave of the adrenaline crash washed over her. “I’m a mess.”

Jim handed her a pair of gloves to put on and then motioned for her to leave. “I’ve got this room from here. Once Micheal is here we’ll have him mop up any foot prints you leave. Then I’ll lock down the room and…”

She wasn’t listening though, she was making her way down the hall and knew that he could handle this. She had lost a good friend, had lost a patient, and almost had her head crushed by her own weapon. This was the worst fight she had been in for some time, she needed a shower and to let the adrenaline crash run it’s course.