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    the crash course that Forrest had given him. He listened, hoping to hear
    voices, footsteps, anything that would indicate that somebody was aware
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    of his predicament.
    Nobody came.
    The air inside the elevator grew hot. Stern removed his shirt and mopped
    his brow, trying not to panic. His throat felt dry and scratchy. His
    eyes seemed to swell, as did his hands and fingers. His ears burned and
    it was suddenly hard to breathe.
    My blood pressure is up, he thought. Need to calm down, think
    rationally, and get the hell out of here.
    He tried the radio again. There was a burst of static, and then a
    garbled voice. He listened carefully, but couldn't make out what the
    other person was saying.
    "Bates? This is Stern. Do you copy?"
    Something unintelligible.
    "This is Dr. Stern. I'm trapped in an elevator. Can anyone hear me?"
    287
    Static, and then, "My dick ..."
    "Say again?"
    "Dick ... it's gone. They ... took it..."
    "Who is this? I need help. I'm stuck inside one of the elevators."
    "They're everywhere, man ... Thousands of them ... They..."
    "Who is this? Can you hear me?"
    "It's c-cold. Savini's missing. George is dead ... So is ... Ken. Ripped
    his arms out ... Joe and Gary ... They shot them both before I could do
    a-anything. And then ... and then they ..."
    "Go ahead, son. I'm listening."
    "They turned on me. They tore my pants off ... and ..."
    Stern drew in a breath and held it.
    "They ... cut it off and ate it... and then they just... they just left
    me here."
    Stern was speechless. The elevator suddenly seemed to spin. He closed
    his eyes against the vertigo. His stomach churned.
    The man on the other end began to sob.
    "They left me here to ... to bleed out and die. They cut my fucking dick
    off!"
    "It-it's going to be okay," Stern said, feeling foolish. "Can you tell
    me your name?"
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    "I don't want to be like them," the man wailed. "Not like that! I don't
    want to come back."
    "Please," Stern whispered. "Tell me your name."
    "I don't want to come back."
    "Please? Can you tell me who you are? Where you are?"
    "Hail Mary, full of grace ..."
    288
    There was a gunshot, and then silence. Stern turned the radio off,
    wrestling with a wave of nausea. After a moment, it passed.
    The air inside the elevator grew hotter, stifling. After a moment, he
    sat the rifle aside, stood up, and studied the doors. He experimented
    with them, sliding his fingers in between the crack. Grunting, Stern
    pulled. The doors didn't budge.
    "Damn it."
    He strained again, pulling with all his might. The doors slid a
    half-inch, then an inch, and then stopped. He let go and caught his breath.
    "It never looked this hard in the movies."
    He put his eye to the crack and peered through. The wall of the shaft
    stared back at him. Two feet above his head, he saw the bottom half of
    another pair of doors. He realized that the elevator was stuck between
    floors. If he could force these doors open, and wedge the others apart
    as well, he could climb through.
    He set to work again, and with a final heave, the doors slid open all
    the way. Warm air brushed his face. He smelled smoke.
    "Well, that's half of it," he panted.
    He laid the radio on the floor next to the rifle and his shirt, stood at
    the edge of the elevator, and reached up. His fingers just reached the
    outer doors, but he had no leverage to pry them open.
    "Where's the ladder? In the movies, there's always a ladder inside the
    shaft."
    Cursing, he slammed his hand against the shaft in frustration.
    An answering knock came from the other side of the doors.
    "Hello," he called, "Is somebody out there?"
    289
    The knock sounded again, along with muffled voices.
    "I'm in here!" Stern pounded on the shaft wall. "Can you get me out? I'm
    stuck."
    They called back to him. Stern wasn't sure what they said, but it
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    sounded like "Hang tight."
    So he did. He waited, listening to the activity on the other side.
    Within moments, the doors slid open, bathing the shaft with the soft
    glow of emergency lights. A flashlight clicked on, and one of his
    rescuers shined the beam into his face.
    "Thank God," Stern gasped, squinting against the light. Several figures
    stood illuminated in the open doorway, but the beam blinded him and he
    couldn't make out who they were. "I wasn't sure how I was going to get
    out of here."
    There was no response.
    "Could you kill that light, please?"
    "Sure," came the reply. "Right after we kill you."
    The zombies reached down and grabbed his hair and shoulders, yanking him [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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