CHAPTER 1

Central New Jersey

Montvale Memorial Hospital

1:10 a.m.

 

Christie looked over at her daughter Kate, at her hands gripped so tightly on the steering wheel, head leaning forward as if that might help her drive… help her navigate.

They had just stopped at the gate that barred the way to the hospital parking lot, with the entrance to the ER visible at one corner of the building.

Her first thought, No guards.

And then, The gate isn’t opening.

C’mon, she thought.

Christie looked down at her leg, her jeans jacket serving as a tourniquet, now soaked through, doing little to stem the blood.

She looked back at Kate.

Not even old enough to have a learner’s permit.

And yet, here she was, having driven them from the madness at the Mountain Inn.

Madness.

When people—normal people, not monsters like the cannibals, the twisted humans that came to be called “Can Heads”—showed up in the middle of the night and began rounding up people.

Especially the young.

God. For food.

Because Kate had seen what their plans were for the young.

“Blast the horn, Kate.”

Kate hit the horn once, then again.

Still, the gate didn’t move.

“Mom, maybe the hospital isn’t open. Maybe it just looks open. Maybe we need go someplace else…”

Christie could hear the fear in Kate’s voice—and not just the fear of what was out in the darkness that surrounded them.

No, her daughter could look down in the dim interior light of the car and see how sodden and dark the jacket wound around Christie’s right leg had become.

Simon, in the back, had said nothing.

Even when Christie had looked back at her son, when she had turned to ask, “You okay, Simon?”

Just a nod.

The boy’s face locked, set in a way that Christie wasn’t sure she had ever seen before, despite everything they had all been through.

As soon as possible she’d have to really talk to him, talk to them both. About what happened.

Christie reminding herself: I’m still the parent.

Another loud beep from Kate, and then—over the rumble of their car—Christie heard the slow clanking of the gate mechanism kicking in, the chain-link gate beginning to slid open.

Again, the disturbing thought.

How come there are no guards out here, no people with guns?

No one keeping watch over this place, this hospital that is supposedly open?

And that thought turned even more disturbing with each clickety-clack of the electric gate sliding to its fully open position.

Is it electrified?

Had to be, she thought. These days, had to be.

She was sure if she looked around she’d spot one of those friendly warning signs, with big block letters announcing: WARNING! THIS GATE IS ELECTRIFIED! IF YOU TOUCH IT YOU WILL DIE!

Did anyone have a gate or fence today, in this world, that wasn’t electrified?

The gate now open, she touched Kate’s left shoulder.

“Go on, Kate. Nice and slowly. Find a spot to park.”

And showing Kate’s newness with the accelerator, the car lurched forward, once, then again. But despite the jerky moves, the car rolled inside the hospital compound, and looking back quickly, Christie watched the gate close.

Nothing slipping in behind them.

That was the important thing to check.

Always look behind.

She turned back to the parking spaces.

“Over there. Near the Emergency Room door.”

Still no one around, no one coming out so see who had just driven into the compound.

And Kate made the car lurch forward a few feet, then braked in reaction, slowly trying to slide into a parking space.

None of this is easy for her.

“You’re going good, Kate. Just a little closer…”

And meanwhile, Christie kept looking around.

It didn’t feel right.

So quiet.

Then Kate stopped, the engine still running, the car parked at an angle, the best she could do.

Christie took another look behind, past Simon, who was also looking around.

Of course.

Or course, he’d also look around.

The gate shut, and the darkness beyond total. The area around the hospital seemed empty.

“Okay,” Christie said. “You can shut the ignition off.”

Kate hesitated as if not understanding.

“Turn the key. To the left. And kill the lights.”

Immediately regretting the choice of words.

No one needed to hear the word “kill” any more than necessary.

The car went silent, lights off. This old Camry, with gas, and battery in good shape, represented their ability to stay alive, Christie knew.

Without it, they were lost.

But when she saw Kate about to pull on the door handle, she said, “No. Wait a bit.”

Their doors were locked.

Not a time to rush into anything. It might all be fine inside that building. But either way, better being cautious.

And anyone inside—that is, if there was anyone inside—would be watching the car carefully as well.

They had let us in.

But they would be watching carefully who came out of the car.

Especially if they knew—like she did—that things had changed.

That it just wasn’t humans versus Can Heads anymore.

Something different had happened, at least in this part of the world.

There were humans; there were the animal-like Can Heads.

And then, There were others.

She looked back at Simon.

Those others who had captured Simon. Were ready to take him away.

She gave Simon a smile. He had been taken by them, captured until Kate fired her gun and stopped them.

She had saved her brother.

From people who were even more monstrous than Can Heads.

“Shouldn’t we go in, Mom? Look at your leg!”

Christie quickly shook her head. “No. Keep the doors locked, okay…”

Their father’s voice—his constant warning in all their heads—“Doors locked, windows up, everyone.”

That voice gone forever.

And in that moment, that knowledge—so hard to accept—hurt way more than the oozing wound on her right leg.

“Mom,” Simon said, his voice she thought, low, hollow, “I have to pee.”

Such a human thing. Though Simon was no little kid, could never be a little kid after all he had seen and done, still… the age-old words.

Mom, I’ve got to pee.

“Right, Simon. Just want to be sure everything’s… okay here.”

She knew he would understand that well enough.

Only hours before he’d had a rope tight around his neck, herded by people—seemingly normal, everyday people—into a truck.

And Christie had seen where they were taking these kids.

To that warehouse. And when those people decided to move on, they’d bring those kids with them because, because—

She cut off those thoughts.

No benefit in summoning those feelings. She didn’t need anything further to be horrified about, to terrify her.

She turned back to Simon again, forcing a smile. “Just a few minutes, Simon. Okay? Just let’s wait.”

Then back to the bright windows.

Where the hell were the people? Was this hospital deserted, a tantalizing, brightly lit place that was in fact completely empty?

She’d have to do something soon.

Get out, go in—or leave?

But how long could she last, oozing blood? And then what would happen, with the two kids on their own?

Another thought to be quickly squelched.

Then—back to movement.

She saw a shape, shadowy, toward the back of the ER entrance. As if laying back, waiting.

And what exactly was that shape?

Somebody who worked here?

Or just another Can Head hoping that this was their lucky night.

Then again: Can’t just stay here.

“Mom—we just going to sit here?” Kate asked. “Look at your leg!”

Christie was all too aware of her leg. The pain excruciating, the throbbing constant, a slippery pool forming at her feet from the dripping blood.

“Right.” She looked at Kate, forced a smile. “We can’t just sit here.”

Kate nodded, her hands still locked on the steering wheel.

And like pulling the lever on something deadly, Christie grabbed her door handle and just held it, about to be opened to the unknown.

She took a breath.