nothing happened. They stayed where they were, just lingering restlessly. Some of them sniffed our way as we stepped out into the street. Fred slowly closed the door behind him and stood next to me, keeping a nervous eye on the undead next to him.

  “We should—“

  “Shush.” I whispered to Fred, “The undead don’t talk. You have to blend in.”

  Fred nodded and kept quiet. We cautiously made our way through the sea of undead corpses taking care not to get caught out as two of the living. One zombie moaned as I passed him, so I started moaning like the dead. Fred raised his hands like a cartoon zombie and moaned like a porn star. I stopped and turned to him.

  “That’s too much.” I whispered.

  Fred nodded and lowered his hands. I turned to the direction of the ambulance dispatch and looked a zombie straight in the eye. It only had one functioning eye. The other one was hanging by its muscles and clanked next to its exposed row of teeth. The zombie groaned and walked away. I let out a sigh of relief (I must admit I almost soiled my pants) and we continued through the hordes of undead. We tried to move fast while walking as slow as the dead did, which made our trek more treacherous. Anyone of the undead that bothered to take a good look could have seen that we did not belong, but since they did not smell us, they did not bother to look for the living.

  As we cleared most of the undead, I saw the ambulance dispatch at the end of the lot. Fred glanced at the scattered few zombies that stood between us and the dispatch.

  “We’re almost there.” Fred whispered, “I told you it would work.”

  I had to admit; I had my reservations about the plan, but it all seemed to work out in the end. I felt something drip onto my nose and stopped. Fred stopped and stood next to me.

  “What is it?” Fred asked.

  I was not sure, but I had that strange feeling that something was about to go wrong. I stared up at the dark, night sky and a raindrop fell into my eye. A light drizzle came down and then within a matter of seconds the drizzle turned into a downpour. I stared down at my hands as the guts started washing away.

  “We have to hurry.” I said.

  Fred and I hurried over to the dispatch trying not to alarm the scattered undead. Some of them looked at us, but did not bother as we still smelled like them. We got to the dispatch and stood under the roof. Fred gasped for air and then wiped some of the rain from his face. I grabbed his arm and stopped him.

  “Don’t.” I whispered, “You will wipe away the last of your camouflage.”

  I let go of his arm and he slowly lowered it. I reached for the doorknob next to my hip, but it was locked.

  “It’s locked.” I whispered.

  “Can’t you break it open?” Fred asked.

  “Yes.” I said, “But not without attracting attention.”

  “What do we do now?” Fred asked alarmed.

  I found it hard to think of a plan without the pressure of being attacked by the dead. When we weren’t in grave danger, I could not think of a plan. My mind was a complete blank.

  “Zac?” Fred asked.

  I looked over at him and then at the lingering zombies out in the rain. If only I could jump start my mind then I could think of something. I knew it was a stupid idea as soon as I did it, but I stepped out into the rain anyway.

  “What are you doing?” Fred whispered anxiously.

  I raised my arms and let the rain wash away all the guts. The guts stained my shirt and thus the stench stayed with me. I ripped my shirt apart and tossed it aside. A moment later one of the nearby zombies turned around to face me as it sniffed the air. Here we go.

  One by one more of the undead smelled my human flesh and turned around. The zombie whom stood about a yard away tried to run towards me, but it was stiff with rigor mortis making it run like a kid with scoliosis. Two zombies further away started running towards me and then a warm tingling sensation took over. I could feel ideas sparking to life in my head. Time around me slowed down and my thoughts sped up. I turned around and glanced at the despatch building. I saw a skylight in the tiled thatch – it was our way in.

  “Come on!” I called out to Fred.

  He glanced at the zombies running over to us and was hesitant to move. I looked back over my shoulder. The zombies were almost upon us.

  “Fred!” I yelled, “Move! NOW!”

  He moaned and ran over to me.

  “You are going to get us eaten!” Fred cried.

  “Trust me.” I said confidently.

  I wrapped my arm around his waist and got a firm grip.

  “We won’t be on the menu just yet.” I said.

  I bent my knees a bit and as I jumped, I catapulted us towards the roof. Fred tried not to scream as we launched into the air. We landed on our feet a few feet from the window and I helped Fred to regain his balance. He was a bit jolty and his spaghetti legs had trouble standing up.

  “Are you alright?” I asked, “Can you stand?”

  Fred nodded and stared down at the zombies gathering outside the building.

  “How did you do that?” Fred asked flabbergasted, “It’s like two storeys high.”

  “I don’t know.” I said sincerely, “I just get this adrenaline rush when they are near.”

  Fred nodded, but it was clear that he did not quite understand what just happened. I reached for the skylight window and opened it.

  “Come on.” I said, “Let’s get out of the rain.”

  20

  Ambulances were something of the past. They had no use anymore. There were no more injured or sick people that needed to be rushed to the hospital where doctors would save their lives. The world no longer had a need for medics.

  I closed the skylight as we stepped onto the frame of the roof. I spotted a ladder leading down and motioned for Fred to follow me.

  The two ambulances stood in darkness and silence like beacons of hope that were extinguished. We climbed down the ladder one rung at a time.

  “Do you know how to drive?” I asked Fred.

  “Don’t you?” He asked, “Aren’t you like 17?”

  “And your point?” I asked.

  “Boys your age know how to drive.” Fred said.

  “Well I don’t.” I said.

  “I don’t have a licence.” Fred said.

  I stopped and looked up at him a few rungs above me.

  “I doubt that you will get pulled over.” I said.

  I continued down the last few rungs and jumped off towards the floor. I patiently waited for Fred to reach the bottom.

  “Why are you climbing so slowly?” I asked annoyed.

  “I don’t want to slip.” Fred said, “I am not wearing rubber soles.”

  I rolled my eyes and tried not to make a big deal out of it, but he was beginning to sound like mom.

  He was still about ten rungs from the bottom.

  “Well hurry up.” I said, “I ain’t got all night.”

  “I’m on my way.” Fred said.

  He finally reached the bottom and turned to face the ambulances. One was numbered “1” and the other “2”.

  “Which one do you want?” Fred asked.

  “Does it matter?” I asked.

  “They’re numbered.” Fred said, “I’m sure there is a difference.”

  “It does not matter.” I said annoyed, “We just need something with wheels. We take whichever one starts up.”

  “Who are you?” I heard a voice behind me.

  Fred and I turned around and faced a medic pointing a pistol at us. Both Fred and I raised our hands cautiously. The medic’s uniform was splattered with blood and though blood stained, I could see that the name badge said Henry.

  “Are you infected?” Henry asked with the pistol shaking in his hand.

  “No we are not.” I said cautiously.

  “Were you bit or scratched.” Henry asked with a trembling voice.

  “No.” Fred said.

  “Were you—“

  I grabbed the pistol from his trembling hand bef
ore he accidentally shot someone. He seemed a bit foolish without his gun.

  “We are not infected.” I said calmly.

  I laid the pistol down on a nearby table and turned back to Henry.

  “You’re Henry, right?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “Are you a medic?” I asked, despite the obvious uniform.

  Henry nodded and said, “I was one yesterday, yes.”

  “Good.” I said, “My name is Zac and this is Fred.”

  Fred nervously waved at Henry who waved back unsure of how to respond.

  “I have an injured friend in the hospital that needs your help.” I said.

  Henry shook his head adamantly and said, “No. I’m not going out there. It’s death out there. If your friend is out there, he is dead already.”

  “How can you say that?” I asked shocked, “What about that oath you take about saving lives?”

  “That’s doctors.” Henry insisted, “Not medics.”

  “What’s the difference?” I asked.

  Henry just stared at me and then turned away grunting in frustration.

  “How can you turn your back on someone in need?” I asked.

  “It won’t be the first time.” Henry said and turned around as he got lost in thought, “I was out on a call about a woman whose son was attacked by someone. When I got there, the son was eating his mother’s eyes as she lay screaming for help. I wanted to help, but I was frozen with fear. My colleagues ran over to her and they were overrun by a group of rabid people who tore them apart. I jumped back into the ambulance and watched as my colleagues – my friends called out for help. I did not help them. I simply drove away.”

  “There was nothing you could do.” I said, “If you got out you would have been attacked.”

  Henry looked up at us and said, “I should have at least tried to help. Instead I drove away.”

  I laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and said, “You can make up for your mistake by helping my friend. He is not infected. He is just injured.”

  There was a moment of silence as Henry thought it over.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Henry asked.

  “His leg was shot off with a shotgun.” Fred said bluntly.

  “By who?” Henry asked alarmed.

  “I took care of it.” I said, “I just need you to look at my friend. Please. Will you help us?”

  Henry nodded and said, “Yes, but what is your plan to get over there?”

  “I will think of one.” I said trying to convince myself.

  Outside the rain poured down as Mother Nature tried in vain to wash away all that was evil in the world, if only she knew that there was no more good left. One by one more and more survivors fell victim to the infection and one by one they joined the throng of walking corpses outside the dispatch building. The sound of the rain falling onto the roof fell into synchronicity with the sound of the dead banging on the metal doors to until I could no longer tell them apart.

  TO BE CONTINUED

 
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