Richard Brown - Titanic With ZOMBIES

“I’m afraid she’s passed.”

“ What? Are you sure?” asked O’Loughlin.

The two doctors hurried past Dunford and into Elise’s room. Lightoller and Andrews stayed by the door to the stairwell.

“Why do I have the feeling this is not over yet,” said Lightoller. He checked his watch. 11:08 p.m.

“I don’t think any of us are going to get much sleep tonight,” Andrews replied.

“It’s not losing sleep I’m worried about.”

O’Loughlin and Simpson came back into the examination room a minute later, shutting the door to Elise’s room behind them.

“It’s true,” said O’Loughlin. “Whatever caused her body to shut down, it didn’t waste any time.”

“I should notify the captain,” said Lightoller, heading for the door.

“No, not yet,” Andrews interjected. “I don’t think any of us should leave this room until we can be sure we’re not infected, for the sake of everyone on the ship.”

“What about Margaret? Or Catherine?”

“I shouldn’t have let—” Andrews jumped, as there was suddenly a knock at the door behind him.

Catherine Wallis opened the door and came inside. “Harriet is all settled into her new room.”

“Thank you, Catherine,” said O’Loughlin.

“Wait a minute—Harriet—she’s been staying with Elise for more than a day now.” Lightoller began to feel a glimmer of hope. “If it’s a virus, wouldn’t she have caught it by now?”

“Mrs. Bell seemed fine,” said Catherine.

“My point exactly. She didn’t seem ill at all. Grumpy, sure, but not ill.”

“Good observation, Mr. Lightoller. But I’ll need to examine her all the same,” said O’Loughlin. “Catherine, could you show me to her room?”

Catherine looked upset by this. “But she just went back to bed.”

“So wake her up,” Lightoller said. “I don’t want to spend all night in this room if I don’t have to.”

It wasn’t five minutes after Dr. O’Loughlin and Catherine Wallis left the hospital that they heard the first of the sounds.

The moaning.

Thomas Andrews was actually first to point it out. They had all been making small talk, when during a brief moment of silence the unusual sound caught his attention.

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Dr. Simpson.

“I heard something,” said Andrews. He glanced over at Lightoller sitting beside him.

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t hear anything.”

“Shhhh.”

Andrews, Simpson, Lightoller, and Dunford all sat quietly and listened.

Lightoller finally shrugged and began to light his pipe. “All I hear is the hum of the engines.”

Everyone relaxed except Andrews.

“I swear I heard something.”

“What did it sound like?” asked Dr. Simpson.

“I don’t know. I guess it sounded like a person—like a person in pain, I suppose.”

“A person in pain?” Dr. Simpson repeated.

“Yes. And I do believe it was coming from Elise’s room.”

“I think you need sleep, Andrews,” said Lightoller. “Need I remind you Elise is—”

Again the moaning sound, much louder than before. This time everyone heard it.

“Dr. Simpson, is it possible...”

“That Elise isn’t deceased?”

“Is it possible?”

“Mr. Andrews. She wasn’t breathing. Her heart wasn’t beating.”

“Perhaps I should check on her,” said William Dunford. “Just to be sure.”

The guttural moaning grew louder.

Closer.

“Well, doctor. Obviously Elise is not dead,” said Andrews. “She’s alive. Somehow she’s alive.”

Everyone stood up and huddled around the door to the second patient room.

A new sound now accompanied the moaning.

A dragging sound.

“Elise, is that you?” asked Dr. Simpson.

“Of course it’s her,” said Lightoller. “Who else would it be? Go in and check on her—what are you afraid of?”

“For God’s sake, let me do my job.” Dr. Simpson put his hand on the door handle. “Elise, go and lay back down on the bed.”

Elise bellowed something that almost sounded like NOOOOOO and then began beating her arms on the other side of the door.

Dr. Simpson took a deep breath before turning the handle and opening the door.

The formerly deceased Elise Brennan fell out on to him, clutching his shoulders with morbidly stiff hands, and aiming her open jaws for his face. The doctor put his hands around her neck and tried to push her off as the struggle quickly moved to the floor.

Andrews yelled for Elise to stop.

She didn’t.

“Get her off of me! Please! Please! Get her off of me!” Dr. Simpson shouted.

Steward William Dunford was closest to the doctor and first to react. But as he grabbed Elise’s arm, she turned and clenched her teeth into the side of his hand. Blood spurted out from the newly shredded flesh. Dunford screamed in anguish and fought to withdraw his mangled hand from her jaws. Once free, he collapsed into a heap in the corner.

Lightoller was next up, though he wasn’t nearly fast enough to prevent Elise from sinking her teeth into the side of Dr. Simpson’s face.

“Oh God,” Andrews cried.

Lightoller grabbed Elise from behind by a fistful of her hair. She immediately released her bite on the doctor and tried to snap at Lightoller.

“I don’t think so, dear!”

Dr. Simpson scuttled out from underneath her as Lightoller yanked Elise back to her feet and then slammed her face first into a wall.

“Andrews, come help me,” said Lightoller. “Grab her right arm.”

Andrews did as instructed. Lightoller secured the left arm and still had control of her head by her hair. Elise tried to shake them off but wasn’t strong enough. Her mouth was trembling in the anticipation of more warm flesh.

A voice from behind.

“What is going on here?”

Lightoller and Andrews turned Elise around so she was facing the door to the stairwell.

Dr. William O’Loughlin and Catherine Wallis looked frightened. They cautiously surveyed the room, instantly struck speechless. O’Loughlin peered around the examination table. Two of his best men were crouched over in the far right corner, both a bloody mess.

“Simpson, are you okay?”

“Don’t get near her,” Dr. Simpson grumbled. “She bit me on the face.”

“William...”

“My hand. She got my hand, sir. I think it may be broken.”

Dr. O’Loughlin slowly stepped closer to his associates, never taking his eyes off Elise. Catherine wisely chose to stay back by the door.

“What happened here?”

“She went crazy—that’s what happened,” Lightoller replied.

“But—how—how is she...”

“ Alive? I don’t know. You said she was dead. How can a dead person come back to life?”

“They can’t,” O’Loughlin replied, moving closer to get a better look. “Clearly our pronouncement of death was premature. Elise. Elise. Can you hear me? Why are you doing this? Tell me what I can do to help you?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” said Lightoller. “Unless you have a cure for insanity.”

Elise was still moaning and trying to escape.

If she wasn’t dead, she sure didn’t look alive. Her face was as ashen and grey as the paint on the walls. Her mouth was open in a snarl revealing the red blood glistening between her teeth—many of which had cracked or broken in half when she bit into Dunford’s hand. Even more blood, globs of it, ran out of her mouth and down her chin.

Dr. O’Loughlin sighed. “I fear you may be right. Somehow, this poor girl has been cheated of an honest death, and further robbed of any genuine mental capacity. When I look into her eyes, I see...well, nothing. No life there. She doesn’t know where she is, or who I am. She doesn’t even know who she is. All that she has left is the most basic carnal instinct, to survive by any means necessary.”