Page 92 of Grave Danger

More shouting outside the door, now accompanied by a few screams.

“Isn’t there anything you can do for those people?” Oliver said.

“Our security teams have been charged with maintaining order.”

“Doing a bang up job so far,” said Dave. “Maybe push through a pay increase to each of their ID markers, huh?”

Despite the situation, Demetrius grinned. Dave had sounded so much like Cody. Oliver definitely had his hands full. Once this was all over, he and Oliver would need to get together and compare notes on their respective Bower brother.

A face pressed against the blood-streaked window. It was a woman, her eyes wide and mouth gaping. The whites of her eyes had turned a sickly yellow, and blood was smeared around her mouth and across the skin of her face.

“Uh, guys?” Oliver’s voice shook as he took a few steps back. “Avon lady from Hell wants in.”

Sam’s watch beeped, and he approached Cody with another syringe. “That’s Dr. Willoughby.”

“Willoughby’s been turned?” Llewelyn said, lifting his head from where he stared at his laptop.

“Yesterday,” Sam said, delivering the next injection into Cody’s wound.

“Damn, I have questions for her,” Llewelyn said.

The door slid open, and Dr. Willoughby stomped into the room. Demetrius gasped and moved to the foot of the examination table, putting himself between the zombified doctor and Cody.

“What the fuck?” Oliver shouted.

“Dammit! She must have waved her wrist over the access plate,” Sam said. “Get back!”

“Demetrius, come on!” Oliver said.

“I’m not leaving Cody,” Demetrius said, not looking away from Willoughby.

The woman jerked her head back and forth, scanning the room. As the door slid shut, she set her yellow-eyed gaze on Demetrius and, with a deep and hungry moan, headed right for him.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Dr. Willoughby, though infected, still moved quickly. Demetrius ducked away from her grasping hands, but she was right behind him as he scurried around the table. He was grateful she ignored Cody for the moment, but he didn’t know how much energy he had left to keep away from her.

Dave stepped in front of the woman and grabbed her by the upper arms, holding her at a distance. Willoughby snapped her jaws and twisted in his grasp. When she’d gotten ready that morning, most likely anticipating a normal work day, she’d gathered her dark hair into a bun at the back of her head. Long strands of it had pulled free, swinging back and forth as she thrashed. A splash of blood across the front of her white lab coat looked like a garish attempt at statement art.

“Somebody do something,” Dave said through clenched teeth. “She’s really strong.”

“Tell me you didn’t give a bunch of zombies super strength,” Agatha said.

“I’ve got a sedative here.” Sam came up behind Willoughby and jabbed a syringe into her shoulder.

“Sedatives work on zombies?” Oliver asked.

Demetrius stood at the foot of the table. He felt a bit lightheaded, as if he were drifting up and away from himself. To keep himself grounded, he gripped the wet and muddy tips of Cody’s shoes. He imagined Cody’s toes underneath the material. He thought about the fine, dark hairs that lay across the tops. He remembered watching as Cody sat on the lid of their pink toilet, bent over to trim his toenails, all the while complaining about the color of the tile floor. Demetrius tightened his fingers on Cody’s shoes as he watched Dr. Willoughby’s movements slow until she sagged in Dave’s hands and crumpled to the floor.

Dave took a few shaky steps back, and Oliver rushed up to give him a tight hug.

“You okay?” Oliver asked, his face pressed against Dave’s chest.

“Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just been a lot today, you know?”

“Thank you, Dave,” Demetrius said, receiving a flicker of a smile and a nod in response.

“Can someone help me with her?” Sam asked from where he crouched behind Dr. Willoughby. “I want to get her into a chair and secure her with restraining straps while I administer the antidote.”