The Real Night of the Living Dead Read Online Free PDF

was attached to his head, taking in the sound of his high-pitched scream, but his right ear had a new home: inside Doctor Oksenberg’s mouth.
    Oksenberg was one of them now. He was chewing on Haas’ ear. Haas grabbed the bloody hole on the side of his head that once bore an ear.
    Melvin grabbed Haas and pulled away from Oksenberg . We were on either side of the newborn creature; Melvin and Haas on one side and me on the other. We could do nothing but stare at him, for the moment. Except Haas, he was busy screaming, the blood seeping from between his fingers now.
    Oksenberg’s attention went to Melvin, then his gaze drifted to me. My eyes widened as I saw the yellow in his eyes. He began walking toward me. Then a loud slam was heard, then screams.
    I looked past the approaching Oksenberg , at Melvin. He was staring past me and said, “Christ. Let’s go.”
    I turned back to see three or four patients from the room. They busted the door open and were headed our way.
    I’m not ashamed to admit it, but when I saw those raging maniacs headed toward me, I wet my pants. Then I turned and saw Oksenberg about to grab me. I barreled past him, knocking him to the ground like a rag doll.
    The three of us ran down the empty hallway.
    We passed a couple of elevators but didn’t want to stop and wait for them. Who knows how long it would take, probably no more than a minute, but we didn’t want the ones chasing us to catch up. Besides, we had no clue what would be waiting for us inside of that elevator. With people running out of here screaming, we suspected the first patient was on one of these floors, terrorizing whoever he came across.
    “Down the stairs,” shouted Doctor Haas. He pushed the stairwell door opened, leaving behind a bloody handprint on the knob. Melvin followed.
    Before I entered, I checked to see where they were. Still near the end of the hallway, but some were moving faster than others.
    I followed them into the stairwell.
    I looked out the rectangular window as I ran down the stairs and saw it was beginning to rain again. For the past few days, we had seen almost two inches of rain fall over Philadelphia, and it left this area of Byberry very muddy, and some of the roads had been forced to close due to flooding from the nearby Poquessing Creek. Because of this, much of the scheduled staff had called out yesterday and today, and all that remained for the night shift was a skeleton crew. If this downpour continued, we would be trapped here, helpless.
    We could hear maniacal screams coming from outside and screams of staff members trying to flee. I said, “We should stay away from the first floor. I don’t think we’ll be able to leave this building.”
    “Second floor,” said Doctor Haas. “The nurses’ station. You can call for help while I see what I can do to fight off this infection.”
    Me and Melvin followed Haas out of the stairwell, onto the second floor. The hallway here was also empty, looked exactly like the third floor.
    We ran down the hallway until it led us to a large open area with about twenty alcoves and three beds to each one.   It was supposed to be used as a dormitory for any nurses working here in N-3, but for the past several months it subbed as a ward for patients who were to be tested with experimental drugs.
    The doctor led us to the temporary nurses’ station that was set up when it was converted into a ward. We passed about twenty patients, all of which ignored us. Most of them had received frontal lobotomies and were now vegetables. Some sat or laid in their beds; others walked the floor like they were in a trance, but I passed one who was sitting on the terrazzo floor, naked, smearing his own feces along the alcove wall. I cringed and kept moving.
    We entered the nurses’ station and there he was, sitting on the chair, his legs kicked up with his bare feet resting on the desk. He was smoking a cigarette and holding a revolver in his hand. He smiled, the cigarette dangling