Dec. 2 – Wichita, Kansas
The Reverend Tucker Adams locked the door to the terminal ward at the hospital. He pulled an empty hospital bed in front of the door. His face turned bright red with the effort. He checked its position and then his watch. It was 3 o’clock in the morning.
His breathing picked up. Since the creatures began showing up, the hospital had become a sort of safe house. It was swarming with army guys, good Christian boys protecting those people who had taken refuge in the old building. Rev. Adams knew that he would only have a short time to do his work: The good Christian boys wouldn’t understand and would surely try to stop him. They didn’t yet know they were damned.