Draculas by F. Paul Wilson, Blake Crouch, Jeff Strand, Jack Kilborn, J. A. Konrath Read Free Book Online Page A

a compress to the claw wound on her hip (which thankfully wasn't serious), she administered a cryoprecipitate IV to a softball player with a transradial amputation of the forearm, and put a Celox compression on the stump to control bleeding. Jenny repeated the procedure with his friend who was missing half his ass, and also gave him a shot of synthetic morphine because the guy was screaming so loud it made her ears ring. Once both patients were stabilized, she allowed herself a bit of pride at her efforts.

    This
was the reason she'd become a nurse. To help save lives.

    Focusing on that, she turned her attention to the hallway, remembering how close the pediatric ward was. Jenny Bolton had no idea what Mortimer had become. But if he got to the children...

    Screams, from behind her. She spun and stared in disbelief. The ER had become a war zone.

    Somehow, Mortimer's affliction had spread, infecting others. Jenny counted three--no, four--of the fanged creatures, and a fifth in mid-transformation, spitting out teeth as longer ones grew in. Those still human tried to make it to the exit, but the EMT Jenny had ridden here with was blocking the doors, snapping and slashing at anyone who came close.

    That a-hole Lanz was nowhere to be seen, but bending over one of the infected, smashing its head in with a chainsaw, was...

    "Randall!"

    "Jen?"

    Her ex-husband's neck craned up at the sound of her voice, and he caught Jenny's eyes and smiled at her, big and stupid.

    That's what Randall was, at his core. Big and stupid. But despite all he'd put her through, seeing him there, alert and sober amid the horror and the chaos, gave Jenny a burst of hope. More than anything, she wanted him to spirit them both out of here.

    But they couldn't leave. Especially now. With more of these...
things
...in the hospital, someone had to protect the children.

    Randall limped over to her, that familiar, lopsided grin on his face, as Dante's Inferno raged around them. She met him halfway, and when his huge, hairy arms closed around her in a hug, she endured it.

    Hell, against her better instincts, she welcomed it.

    "We've got ourselves a dracula outbreak," he said. "Let's get out of here."

    Jenny pulled away. "I can't leave. There are kids in this hospital. Sick kids. They won't have a chance on their own."

    Randall's brow furrowed, and he pursed his lips. "Okay. I'll take you to the truck, then I'll come back and--"

    "No time. I have to go now."

    "It's too dangerous, Jen. Let me do it."

    "Do you even know where pediatrics is, Randall? Can you even spell
pediatrics
?"

    Randall frowned. "That's low."

    He was right. And Jenny wanted more than anything for Randall to come with her. But she couldn't ask that of him. She'd divorced him, kicked him out. Even if he had sobered up, she couldn't ask him to risk his neck in such a deadly situation.

    During their courtship, their engagement, the early years of their marriage, Randall had been the sweetest man on Earth, a big, loyal puppy dog. Not the brightest bulb in the box--really, she could do the New York
Times
crossword while Randall couldn't even spell
crossword
--but that didn't matter. Randall was...Randall--insanely devoted, who always had her back. Here was a guy who was
there
for her.

    Until he started drinking. Then a new Randall emerged. Violent. He never touched her, never even raised a hand to her. But he'd break things and pick fights with other people. She'd finally given him an ultimatum: Jenny or the bottle. He chose her--or rather said he did, but kept sneaking drinks on the side. Finally she'd called it quits.

    Now he seemed more like the man she'd fallen in love with.

    "Get out of here, Randall. Save yourself."

    "I'm not going anywhere, Jen. You know that. Let's go save those sick kids."

    Jenny shook her head. "Don't do this for me," she heard herself say. And at the same time, part of her hoped he was doing it for her. She still loved him. After all, she'd never been able