The Hospital Quotes

“Never at night.”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“planks. The van pulled into the parking lot, did a quick u-turn, and backed itself up to the main doors with a huff of gas. There the vehicle idled for a few moments, wary, ready”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“the looming bulk of the hospital. The Chevy had no windows in its sides, and all of the lights had been smashed out. The rear windows were also shattered,”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“skirt around its rim and ignore the highway’s beckoning off-ramps. Not at night. Never at night. It was too”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“sheathed his hands, fingerless, to allow a better grip on his shotgun. An aluminum baseball bat was slung across his back, Samurai style, in a crude scabbard next to a backpack. A motorcycle helmet and visor hid his features, and completed”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“Seconds later, there was a subtle creak just before the doors swung wide. They hung open, draped in shadow.”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“Gus’s features twisted, wondering what in the hell he’d gotten into? The air traced the edges of his cuts, the cuts that Alice made, and he moaned at the fire in his poor belly. “You’re probably wondering why I cut you so many times?” She asked idly. Then, without warning, she yanked the scalpel out of his belly, getting a hiss out of him, and slashed open his right arm with one flick. That tungsten jolt of pain caused Gus to buck against his bonds. “It’s because, they smell you see,” Alice told him. She slashed the other white arm, as neatly as opening a fish. “That’s why they’re making a racket. My babies are hungry. Sooooooooo hungry. Am I bad for doing this? I don’t think so. I’m cleaning the”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“beyond. Maybe even louder, more frequent. Red-faced and in agony, Gus puffed out his breath but said nothing to his captor. Alice placed her empty hand on the other side of his head. Gus saw she didn’t have the scalpel anymore. Then his features paled. He looked down at himself and whimpered in horror. The crushing of his nuts diverted his attention away from his pain, but now his own eyes verified what Alice had done to him. She left the scalpel in his belly, at an angle, like a bent over buggy antennae. There was a hard slap at the”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“been a big man, not the biggest, and not tall, but fat. He had lost an incredible amount of weight since the world went insane, perhaps ninety kilos or more. Enough that he could presently get into a waist-size of thirty eight. He still had something of a gut which, only a year ago, he would’ve joked that he had invested a lot of money in it. Excess fat clung to his frame here and there, especially across the upper back, but he figured that, as food became scarcer, his body would burn it off”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“pubic area. “Don’t you move,” Alice instructed him. Her fingers did a little dance in his hair down there. “You make a sound now, and I’ll cut it off. You hear”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“yellow, traced with black, and moored in spongy-looking gums. “That’s better, you little bastard. Old Alice got ye. Alice got you fine. You can be fresh or you can be dead, doesn’t matter to me. The kids’ll mind a bit, but not for long, I wager. Not for long. Then I can get back to me flowers on the roof. Heeee! The flowers are in bloom up there. You should see em. But you can’t. Youcan’tyoucan’tyou can’t, HEEE!” While she babbled, the scalpel drifted upwards, where she punctuated each can’t by jabbing the surgical tool at his right eye. Terrified, Gus squeezed his eyelid shut and expected any moment to have two inches of blade lick his cornea. “That’s it, that’s it, shhhhh shhhhhh,” Alice coddled him. “You be fine. You be quiet. It won’t”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“Big man, big man, coming in here. Didn’t know Alice was here, didja? Didja? God you weigh a ton. A ton. What have you been eating? The natives?” a cackle of icy laughter. “That’d be sumthin. The natives. Dead eat dog eat dead!” another eruption of frightening mirth. Gus retreated into the depths of his skull, drawing back from his off-line senses, away from the rant, and hiding in the comforting dark. He drifted, unborn, in a cold place where he could not see, unaware of pretty much everything, except that it was cool and without a sun. His consciousness floated close to waking, close enough that pain flashed through his night like an angry thunderbolts. His eyelids flickered and he moaned. Another cut of agony and his eyes opened. Ceiling. Dark, with stains upon it. He tried”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“thumping from above had distracted him, so it was relatively easy for the hand to snake out from just inside the counter and claw into his testicles. Gus gasped. His leather and denim pants prevented his balls from being totally crushed, but the sudden sickening agony brought him to his knees. His shotgun wavered and fell to the ground. He got one hand on the white wrist of the hand hooked onto him, but before he could summon his strength, what little he had remaining, the fist squeezed again. Hard. “Oh there’s a good boy, yes, such a healthy boy,” a voice trilled. A sickening weight had attached itself to him, pulling down on his testicular nerves like five hundred pound granite blocks, deep down where his senses buckled and warped and were only concerned with pain. Gone were thoughts of looting. Gone were thoughts of the noise from above. As if submerged under sixty”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“doctor’s white coat. Ripped from the victim no doubt. Gus hoped the person was dead at the time, and he hoped he wouldn’t remember any unpleasant sights yet to be discovered. He suffered during the nights when he was home, trying to sleep. Booze helped when he had it, and drank heavily when he did. It would knock him out and keep the nightmares at bay. Nightmares that brought their own private movies, with mouths full of rotting teeth. Gus took a breath and became still, listening for anything beyond the room. He moved to the doorway and glanced about. All clear. He possessed”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“pushed the hamper and cringed at the sound of a squeaky wheel. Well, Jesus, he thought and froze. He looked about, expecting gimps to come tumbling out of the nearby doorways any second, arms outstretched and moaning their shit, but they didn’t. Seconds went by and Gus realized he was wasting time. He pushed the hamper through the corridor, back to the outer door without incident, the wheel whistling its tune the whole way, like a high dwarf staggering home to see Snow White. Gus shoved the hamper through the door with a slight rattle, enough for him to glance”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“Boots clicked on concrete as he climbed the steps to the doors. He walked right up to the glass and peered inside. Shadowy interior. He huffed once, not liking the lack of light in the least, and flicked up the motorcycle’s visor. His eyes were an alert blue, with lines at the corners. He took another contemplative breath. Of course they were in there, somewhere, just waiting for him. For anyone. If he was smart, he should just about-face and march his leather-clad ass out of there. But he needed what the hospital potentially offered. Gus cursed and looked behind, considering the open doors of his van. He studied the empty space of the land, to the tree line beyond. Nothing in sight,”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“Combat knives were sheathed in his both boots, but it was rare he got to use those. He brought them along nevertheless, remembering the old line, it was better to have and not need, than need and not have. He regarded the hospital’s main doors. Still nothing moved from the inside, but he doubted the place was empty. Game on, he thought. Gus shook his head, clearing it, and moved forward, the barrel of the shotgun wavering ever so slightly, like the dark head of a Doberman giving fair warning. If anything came”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“guts, slowly travelling towards the rear. Seconds later, there was a subtle creak just before the doors swung wide. They hung open, draped in shadow. Two motorcycle boots dropped to the pavement. He wore black leather, from neck”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“Upon hearing those words, Gus did something for the very first time. He defecated himself right there and then. He was careful, so very careful about what he did and how he proceeded in town, and by sunny Jesus if he got out of this one he was going to get so fucking shit-faced drunk, it would be a thing of legend, and fuck the dreams, but right now, right this very moment, he could”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“those words, Gus did something for the very first time. He defecated himself right there and then. He was careful, so very careful about what he did and how he proceeded in town, and by sunny Jesus if he got out of this one he was going to get so fucking shit-faced drunk, it would be a thing of legend, and fuck the dreams, but right now, right this very moment, he could”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“drove away from the hospital, hunched over the steering wheel as if he were a man of eighty. Home was a good hour or so away, but he knew how to bypass the city. He would skirt around its rim and ignore the highway’s beckoning off-ramps. Not at night. Never at night. It was too dangerous.”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“Alice howled, struggled, and pulled the zombie off-balance. They fell together into the mass of her arriving children, with Alice landing on the bottom. Her children oozed over her person and kept her down. Gus heard the feeding, the gagging, the gathering shadows spared him the grislier details. He pushed through the entrance and hurried to van, where”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“vehicle”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“night. It was too dangerous. He drove in silence, struggling to keep his attention on the black”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“The sun was directly overhead, but blotted out by low storm clouds as depressing as suicide.”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“He drove a kilometer before he pulled over with a curse.”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“The”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“brace covered his neck. Dark, fingerless gloves covered his hands to allow a better grip on his shotgun. An aluminum baseball bat was slung across his back, Samurai-style, in a crude scabbard next to a large backpack He”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“pockets, feeling the extra shotgun shells, and then reached over his shoulder and felt the bat, ready to grab if needed. He had combat knives sheathed in both boots, but it was rare that he got to use those. He brought them”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital

“brought them along nevertheless, remembering the old line, it was better to have and not need, than need and not have. Gus shook his head once,”
― Keith C. Blackmore, The Hospital