Saving the Dead (10 page)

Ramirez unconsciously touched his arm as he answered. “Yes.”

Willie tapped his head. “Those things that we had to do when our dead began to rise and our living became animals.  Our friends, our families, none of them were immune to Satan’s influence.  Fathers turned against sons, wives against husbands, daughters against mothers, and oh, how the children suffered.  So many of them died in their broken innocence, only to rise again hungry for the light in us all.”

He wrung his hands like Ophelia, trying to rid himself of blood only he could see. “I remember when the little ones from a collapsed daycare stumbled towards me.  They were so pale.  They should have been beautiful but they were robbed of that!  I didn’t have a choice I had to . . .”

He stopped abruptly as Ramirez laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know.”

Willie nodded, grateful the spell was broken and he did not have to relive those hellishly familiar moments.

“I prayed to Jesus almighty for his merciful forgiveness.  I promised our Lord that I would never let Satan’s shadows touch me again. I have failed!” he cried. “I was too weak to keep that promise!”

“Mr. Jackson, Willie, what happened tonight?”

Willie pointed at the dead streetlamp where Drifts and Justin rummaged around the overturned cart. “I took refuge under that light when Satan used his vile influence on the hearts of these men came wandering up the street.  They were wild with the devil’s drink and they attacked me under my refuge!  They called me hateful names!  They tempted me to leave my light to join them in their wrath!  But I remained strong.  Then they foolishly ventured into the realm of light that Jesus had provided.” He smiled in dark satisfaction. “I quickly showed them the folly of their ways.”

He grimaced. “When they retreated back into the stronghold of their darkness, they started throwing rocks at me and my light!  The devil used his minions to destroy my light!  They broke the streetlamp and the darkness invaded my soul!”

“What happened next?” Ramirez asked gently.

Willie shook his head. “I’m not sure.  I was so desperate to return to my place by Jesus’s side that ran here!  I think one of them tried to stop me, but I don’t remember.”

He looked at Ramirez. “When I finally came to the demons-made-flesh were gone.  I called out to Jesus to heal me of this sickness.  The Lord provided me with a way to receive help.”  He pointed back at a payphone against the wall of the apartment building behind him.  The payphone was just inside the cone of light the streetlamp provided.

“The Lord has taught me that what I possessed was just stuff, but I do have things that I care about.  I know that Satan’s minions must have destroyed it all.”  Willie shuttered.

“I don’t know man,” said Drifts, as he walked up pushing a heavy-laden cart. “Whoever you tangled with did a helluva number on all of your shi- . . . I mean stuff.” You must have pissed them off something fierce.  Still, Justin and I worked hard to pick up all that we could find and bring it back to you.  We also found a couple of teeth, so I’m betting they won’t soon forget that tangling with you is probably not under the category of a good idea.”

When he pushed the cart into the light Willie cried out with joy as he ran over to it and began to frantically search it. “Lord Jesus you sent me living saints.  Thank you, Lord!  Thank you, Lord! Thank you Lo-ord!”

“Um, you’re welcome,” said Drifts as Willie dug through his belongings.

The EMT stepped up to his partner and whispered, “Leo, what the hell is this guy’s deal?”

Ramirez drew his partner further away from their patient. “He’s a veteran from the Thirty-Fifth.”

Drifts was a closet military buff, and his eyes widen in disbelief. “Out here?  Why?  There are so many programs to help vets, especially for units like that!  There aren’t many of those guys left!  What the hell is he doing out here?”

“He has a severe case of nyctophobia.”

“Really!”  Drifts, like most people who lived in a reality where the dead rise again, was familiar with the term nyctophobia, or fear of the night or darkness.  It was a common fear suffered by many survivors of the outbreak.

“Oh, thank you, Lord Jesus!  It’s here!  It’s here!  It’s here!  Thank you God!  Thank you God!”

The two of them looked over to see Willie kneeling on the ground, clutching something to his chest.  Feeling their gaze he looked up at them and gave them a big cavity-filled smile, tears streaming unheeded down his face. “You found it!  I thought those minions of Satan had destroyed it!”

He held up a battered picture frame of a woman and two small girls. “This is my wife, Lisa, and my daughters, Rachel and Chloe.  They are waiting for me in heaven.”

Sensing their unspoken question, Willie said, “They were taken from me during the outbreak.” His expression became hard and sad at the same time. “I made sure that they rested in peace.”  He met Ramirez’s eyes and the horrors of the past reflected in their gazes.

Justin broke the connection as he stepped forward holding up a book. “Sir, it looks like your Bible was destroyed.  I wanted you have mine.”

“Dude, you carry a Bible?” Drifts asked.

“Yes,” Justin said simply.  Turning back to Willie he said, “It’s not much.  It’s just a Gideon I received on the college campus, but I thought you’d like it.”

Willie took it reverently. “Young man, I am more than willing to accept the word of God from anyone who is willing to share it with me.”

Drifts toed the ground and then stepped forward. “Here.”  Ramirez’s eyes widened with uncharacteristic surprise.  Drifts was holding out his titanium-lined mag-flashlight.

Drifts said, “Those bottom feeders broke your flashlights all to hell, but I . . . have a spare.  It’s yours if you want it.  It’s a little battered, but it still works.” 

Willie took, it smiling brightly. “The best lights always are a bit worn.”

“Mr. Jackson, do you want to go to the hospital?” asked Ramirez.

Willie shook his head, smiling. “No, sir, I do not.”

“Do you want me to call the police so you can press charges on your attackers?”

“Lord Jesus, no.  We both know the police and I don’t always see things the same way.   No, I will rest in the Lord’s blessed assurance.  “Vengeance is mine”, sayeth the Lord.’  Those minions of Satan will someday bear the fruits of their labor.  And the Lord Jesus has preserved me in my darkest hour by sending his light through the kindness of you saints.”

He held up his new Bible and flashlight in one hand and the picture frame in the other hand. “I have my angels, the Word of God, and a light to combat the darkness.  I want for nothing else.”

“Well, Mr. Jackson, if you don’t need anything else from us, we will be going.”

“I believe I’ll be okay.  For this little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine!  This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine!”

Willie kept singing as he signed the Refusal for Treatment and Transport.  They drove away watching the beams of Drifts old flashlight streak in the air as he waved goodbye to them, still singing: “Let it shine!  Let it shine!  Let it shine!”

Chapter Five

Chest Pain in the Ass

“I’m going to have that fucking song stuck in my head all night.”

Ramirez smiled at his partner. “Whatever you need to say to make yourself feel tough again, big guy.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Leo?”

“You just gave that ‘bum’ one of your best flashlights.”

“So what!  He’s a vet of the outbreak.  You of all people should know how much I respect those guys.”

“Roger’s a veteran too,” Ramirez countered.

Drifts rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t give me that horseshit, Leo.  Roger was a company clerk for the Air Force.  The closest that dude ever got to combat was on his fucking TV.”  He keyed the mic “Unit Triple-Three available on a Refusal.”

“Standby, Triple-Three.”

“I hope they give us a post.  Man, I could go for some grub.  I’m starving!”

“Post?” asked Justin.

“Oh yeah, you haven’t seen one tonight with all the running we’re doing.  A post is a predesignated strategic location usually by a convenience store or the like so we can get snacks or use their facilities.  It’s just how our particular EMS system works.”

“Oh, okay.”

Drifts shook his head. “I can actually hear the gears grinding in his head when he processes new information.”

“At least he produces something when he thinks,” said Ramirez.

“Hey!  You know what . . .”

At that moment dispatched decided to interrupt.  “Triple-Three set a course for Post Twenty-Five.”

“Hot damn!” shouted Drifts.  “We can get some grub at Brook’s Burgers.”  He gunned the engine and the tires screeched as he took a sharp U-turn.

There was a thump in the back of the rig.  To which Drifts shouted, “Hold on!”

Justin climbed back up in his seat and secured his seatbelt.  “Wow you want to get to this place in a hurry.”

“Hell yeah,” said Drifts.  “Brook’s got the best burgers in town, and it’s about to close for the night.”

“They must be some burgers,” commented Justin.

Drifts glanced at him in his rearview mirror. “Look kid, there isn’t a whole lot of places that make what you call high quality food at this time of night.  So unless you want to discuss the motherefucking merits of convenience food cuisine, you should trust me.  Brook’s is awesome!”  Drifts looked at his partner. “Tell him, Leo.”

“It’s pretty good,” said Ramirez.

Drifts looked at his partner as if he personally insulted his mother.  “Pretty good?  Pretty good, is the best that you have?  You can’t explain to the kid the culinary phenomenon that we are about to partake.  What the hell, Leo.  Stating that a Brook’s burger is nothing short of an orgasm of flavor in your mouth is sacrilegious.  That’s like saying that Abraham Lincoln was just some government employee.  Or a Jaws is movie about a little fish!”

Ramirez shrugged. “I always found their burgers to be a little too greasy for my taste.”

Drifts shook his head.  “You think you know a guy.”

“Damn!” the tattooed EMT snapped.

“What is it?” asked Justin.

“We hit a red light,” Ramirez answered calmly.

Drifts reluctantly applied the brakes to the deserted intersection.  He glanced back and forth down the street and then looked at the siren panel.

“No,” said Ramirez.

“Oh come on, Leo,” Drifts responded. “What’s the point of being in an Ambulance if you can’t use its resources to your benefit you from time to time.”

“What’s up?” asked Justin as he looked between the partners.

Ramirez said, “Sam, you’re not using the lights and sirens just to get to Brook’s Burgers faster.”

“I love you like a brother, Leo, but you’re no fun sometimes.”

“So my daughter always tells me.”

Drifts nodded.  “I always thought Maria was a good judge of character.”

“That just proves that you both have something to learn,” said Ramirez.

“You know what-” Drifts cut off mid-sentence.  “What the hell is this horseshit?”

“What?” asked Justin.

Ramirez looked over too.  Standing by the curb was an unkempt man holding a cardboard sign the read:

Was bitten by my dead Wife

Need money for food and medicine

Anything helps

God Bless

Drifts said, “Don’t do it, Leo.”

Ramirez already opened his door.  “I’ll be right back.”

“Come one, Leo.  No.”

Ramirez answered his partner by closing the door.

“Dammit.” Drifts groaned.  “I just know we’re not going to get to Brook’s in time.”

“What’s he doing?” asked Justin.

Drifts sighed.  “Leo is having one of his Mother Theresa moments, again.  He does shit like this to me once every couple weeks.  He sees some poor bastard down on his luck and he decides to talk to them.  He really seems to have a soft spot for the bitten.”  Drifts saw the blank look on Justin’s face.  “You know people who were bitten by zombies, but are still alive and kicking.”

Justin nodded his understanding. “Like the daughter from our first call.”

“Yeah like that crazy bitch,” Drifts confirmed.  “Well Leo as you gathered by now, was in the middle of some real serious shit during the outbreak.  He never talks about it outright, but eludes to plenty.  He has a real soft spot for those poor bastards.  Probably because he’s seen too many people bitten.”