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"There's no other way to stop them.” She glanced anxiously at her watch. Three o'clock. Time was running out for Jake. She had to move.
"Maybe.” Disbelief was stronger in his voice this time. “We'd better meet at the hospital. Ten minutes?"
"Ten minutes,” she confirmed and hung up.
She stood and looked around the room. While she still had the silver knives down her boots, she wasn't so sure they'd be a deterrent against the zombies. And her wrist knives certainly didn't worry them. Jake had a gun locked in the safe, but would that work any better than a knife? Could a dead person be killed by a gunshot? What was that old rhyme? One fine day in the middle of the night, two dead men got up to fight...
What about salt? Michael had said it was useless against zombies, but thrown into their eyes, it would stop them, if only briefly.
She walked across the room and opened the small cupboard under the sink. Jake had a fetish for extra salt on his chips, so there had to be some in here somewhere. She moved several jars around, eventually finding a large shaker. For good measure, she grabbed the pepper and shoved both in her pocket. Then she retrieved her keys from her desk and ran out to the car. MacEwan was waiting for her at the hospital, leaning against the side of a car almost as battered as her own. Two other officers waited near the hospital's main entrance. She knew there would be others guarding the remaining exits. When MacEwan did something, he did it properly. She stopped her car beside his and got out. “How many men do you have?" He exhaled a long plume of smoke, then dropped the rest of his cigarette, crushing it under his heel. “Six, two men guarding each of the exits."
Six men, plus the two of them. Surely it was enough? “Have you been inside?" He nodded. “Just to let the staff know what's going on."
She stared at him. “You told them about the zombies?"
He snorted. “I'm not a fool."
"And your men?"
"They've seen pictures of the missing women. I've told them to expect the unexpected.” He shrugged. She knew then that he didn't really believe he'd be confronting zombies. “You ready to go in?” he continued.
She looked around, then nodded. There was no one watching her. Maybe she'd lost the zombie. And maybe it had somehow beaten her here and joined its brethren.
Seven men might not be enough to cope with the inhuman strength and speed of three zombies. God, she missed Michael. She missed his strength, his ability to make her feel safe. Missed all his secrets and irritating ways. Admit it , she thought, you simply miss him . But there wasn't a hope in Hades she'd reach for him. Jasper's last two traps had almost killed her. If he succeeded with the third, she didn't want to take Michael with her.
She stopped suddenly. She couldn't die. Michael's gift of life meant she couldn't be raised as one of the dead, simply because Jasper couldn't kill her—not unless he severed her head. And even if he did that, he couldn't raise her.
The implications were more than a little mind-boggling.
MacEwan opened the door and frowned back at her. She hurried forward. The nurse stationed at the front desk looked up, and Nikki gave her a brief smile then led the way to the elevators. MacEwan spoke into a handset as they got into the elevator, ordering his men to keep sharp. She watched the floor numbers roll sedately by and hoped the men listened to him. Their lives might depend on it.
The doors opened on the eighth floor. MacEwan held her back and looked out, then made her follow him as he led the way down the silent hall. When they reached Jake's room, he motioned her to one side of the door, then stood on the opposite side and slowly pushed it open. Nothing happened. After a few seconds, she peered around the corner of the door. The room was dark. Foreboding pulsed in her brain. MacEwan reached out and turned on the lights. She blinked at the sudden brightness. The room was empty. Jake was gone.
MacEwan swore and spoke quickly into the handset. Nikki ran forward, hand outstretched as she neared the bed, desperate to find something ... there! She lunged forward and grabbed his reading glasses. Her palm burned as images rose. Jake was alive.
"The stairs!” She pushed past MacEwan and ran from the room. He cursed and spoke quickly into the handset as he pounded after her. He grabbed her arm as she reached the stairwell and wrenched her backwards.
"Don't be a fool,” he said. “You're unarmed. Let me go first." He drew his gun and cautiously opened the door. It was useless protesting, especially when he refused to believe what he was up against.
It was also a damn good reason for contacting Michael. But maybe that was what Jasper really wanted—her calling Michael here to help when the odds were on Jasper's side. The stairwell was silent, dark. Warmth pulsed through her fingers. She glanced at the glasses in her hand.
"They're on the roof,” she whispered.
MacEwan gave her a curious look, but didn't refute her statement. She followed him into the stairwell, squinting up into the darkness, straining to see something, anything that might indicate Jake was near. The sound of a dragged footstep rasped across the silence. The handset squawked.
"Heading to the roof,” MacEwan answered.
Though he spoke softly, his voice echoed. The zombies would know they were coming, if they didn't know already. She licked her lips and followed MacEwan up the stairs. Somewhere above them, a door opened, then slammed shut. She gripped the handrail tightly. They didn't have much time left.
"Quickly,” she whispered.
"It's a black hole in here. I'm going as fast as I damn well can." Tension edged his whisper. She smiled grimly. Maybe MacEwan wasn't the cool, calm and collected type he liked to appear. They reached the exit to the roof. MacEwan opened the door and peered out. A cold wind ran in, whipping around her ankles. She shivered and peered over his shoulder, trying to see Jake.
MacEwan nudged her back. “I see them. Wait here."
He disappeared out the door. Nikki snorted softly. Stay here indeed . Slipping out the door, she ran in the opposite direction. The warning pulse grew more urgent. The zombies were dragging Jake to the edge of the building.
She raced around a crumbling chimney, then stopped. The wind slapped against her face, as cold as ice. The zombies were heading for the building's edge, Jake's unconscious figure held between them. MacEwan stood twenty feet away, gun drawn but by his side.
