Saving the Dead (16 page)

She ignored him as she addressed Ramirez. “I’ll take you over to your patient.” The crowd of bystanders parted grudgingly, only to close ranks as soon as they passed.  Justin looked around nervously.  Ramirez nonchalantly looked from the officer to the crowd, and then to the scene beyond.  Drifts intently watched the sway of Officer Stromberg’s hips.

“What do we have?” Ramirez asked.

Stromberg scanned the crowd as she spoke. “You only have one shooting victim, but I don’t think he’ll die anytime soon.  More’s the pity.  He’s . . . a real charmer.” She looked back at Drifts, “Kind of like your partner.”

Ramirez nodded in understanding, “That bad, huh?”

“Hey!” Drifts called out.

“Worse actually,” Officer Stromberg said grudgingly. She smiled at Drifts without warmth. “But not by much.”  Drifts scowled.

She overlooked it and continued. “The fat tub of lard has plenty to say, but he’s not telling us who shot him.  My guys are trying to question the bystanders for information, but it’s pretty amazing how bad everyone’s eyesight is in this neighborhood.”

“It always fucking is,” agreed Drifts.

Stromberg shook her head. “Your partner is just as eloquent as ever.”

“It’s part of his charm,” said Ramirez.

“You two know I can hear you talking about me, right?”

Stromberg rolled her eyes.  She pointed at a small ring of firefighters and officers. “Your patient’s over there.  Have fun.  I’m going to see if my guys have found out anything yet.  See you later, Leo.”

“Goodbye, Rachel.”

She cast a glare at Drifts before she walked away.”

Justin sidled up to them, “What’s her deal with Sam?”

Ramirez shook his head, “They were intimate for a while, but it didn’t end on a positive note.”

Drifts shrugged. “I broke up with her via text message.”

Justin stared at him. “You did not!”

Drifts nodded. “Yeah, out of professional courtesy.”

“That’s ‘professional courtesy’?” asked Justin.

“Well yeah.  Most of the time I just block a girl’s number completely and call it good.”

Justin stared at the EMT with open disbelief. “That’s horrible.”

“Hey, I don’t go around insulting your fucking style, do I?”

“I don’t have a style.”

Drifts grinned. “Sure you do.  You stare at them from across the room and hope they accidentally trip and fall pussy first onto your dick.  Right?”

Justin’s mouth fell open as he found himself completely lost for words.

He was spared by Ramirez. “As interested as I am in the outcome of this conversation, I think we should probably focus on the task at hand.

Blushing Justin nodded.  Drifts snorted.

Another officer saw them approach and waved them forward.  As they came nearer a screeching voice broke through the crowd’s murmurs. “Don’t you stupid motherfuckers know that I’ve . . . been . . . shot!”

“I understand that, sir.  Let me bandage your injuries,” said a firefighter in a too-controlled tone.

“You don’t need to do shit but drive me to the hospital so the real fucking doctors can do their jobs!”

“The ambulance is on its way . . . sir.”

“Don’t you ‘sir’ me!  Can’t you stupid motherfuckers understand the gravity of my fucking situation?  That no good son of a bitch shot me in my motherfucking ass!”

The outlying police broke their line, allowing the crew to pass.  Ramirez stepped up. “What seems to be the problem?”

The firefighter tending to the patient looked up.  Relief flooded his face as he realized he would not be part of a homicide investigation after all. 

His would-be victim lifted up on his elbows where he lay prone on the ground, his obese belly squeezing out beside him like an under-inflated tire.  His pants were pulled down to his knees revealing numerous fat-rolls on his thighs and a small puncture in the right cheek of his ass.  He glared up at Ramirez. “Well, it’s about God-Damned time you got here!”

Drifts spoke up, “We would have been here sooner, but the drive-thru line was really backed up.”

Ramirez grimaced and Justin turned his face away to mask a laugh.  The ring of firefighters and police, surprised by the EMT’s less than professional response, chuckled outwardly.

The obese man’s scowl deepened. “Oh you think that’s fucking funny, don’t you?”  His remark only made the first responders chuckle louder.  The man glared around at them. “Man, I don’t need this fucking shit!  Here I am minding my own God-Damned business and somebody rolls up and shoots me right in my ass!”

“Looks like they nailed it,” Drifts murmured to Justin. “But with a target that big, how could they miss?” Justin snorted and looked away again.

The fat man glared up at their exchange. “I don’t need you fucking fools coming to my side of town and showing me disrespect.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you were perfectly innocent,” Drifts remarked. “You were just on your way to choir practice or something.”

“Naw, I was on my way to something much nastier.”

Drifts smiled. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“I was on my way to your momma’s house to give her a good fucking!”

Drifts’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Ramirez decided now was a good time to intervene. “Sir?  May I take a look at your wound?”

“Sure.  Whatever. Just keep that asshole away from me.”  He nodded to Drifts.

Drifts opened his mouth to respond, but closed it in response to the look Ramirez gave him.  Ramirez shined his flashlight on the wound and saw the man had a teddy bear tattoo, but the head of the bear was missing, thanks to a small caliber bullet hole.  He palpated around the area.

“Ow!  Fuck!” the fat man screamed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

He swatted at Ramirez.  The older medic didn’t seem to move, but before anyone could blink, he was holding the fat man by his wrist.

“Hey!  What the fuck, man?” shouted the other man as he tried to pull out of his grasp.

But Ramirez’s grip was iron. “What’s your name, sir?”

Taken by surprise he answered automatically. “Johnny Thompson.”

“Mr. Thompson, I want to be perfectly clear: you will not try to harm anyone here.  Is that understood?”

“Who the hell do you think you are talking to you- Ow!”

Ramirez’s grip tightened. “Is that understood?”

“Let me the fuck go!”

Ramirez repeated himself enunciating each word clearly. “Do we have an understanding?”

“No, we most certainly do not have an understanding, you high-and-mighty motherfucker!  Let me go or else!”

The ring of first responders tensed, and Drifts took a step forward.  Beyond them, they could hear the bystanders growing restless. 

Ramirez cocked his head to the side. “Or else what?”

Johnny smiled just before he screamed, “Somebody help!  They’re hurting me!  They’re going to leave me to die!”

There was a collective gasp from the crowd.  The ring of officers and firefighters looked around nervously.

“What the hell are they doing to that man?” cried a voice.

“He said they were going to let him to die!” another answered

“They wouldn’t do that to one of their neighbors!”

“That’s not right!”

“Fucking police are always . . .”

“If they think they can . . .” The fat man looked up at Ramirez. “There is going to be trouble!” someone else shouted

“You hear that!” He smiled proud of the ruckus he incited. “You better show me some respect or there’s going to be trouble!”

Ramirez narrowed his eyes, “So you want to incite a riot, putting yourself and everyone here in harm’s way, just so you can have permission to act like a spoiled brat?”

Johnny glared at him. “Who the fuck are you calling a spoiled brat, bitch?”

Ramirez dismissed the vulgarity, digging for the heart of the matter. “Semantics aside, that’s what you’re trying to do?”

“What of it!  You better give me my fucking due, or else!”

“Is that how it is?” Ramirez asked.

“Yeah, motherfucker!  That’s how it fucking is.”

Ramirez nodded. “Very well.” He released his hand and stood up.

Johnny smiled up at him. “That’s more like it!”

Ramirez looked down at his patient. “I didn’t want to have to do this.  I really didn’t, but you’ve left me no choice.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Ramirez looked back at his crew and called in a loud voice, “Justin, could you please hand me the hot-drill.”

“What!” cried Johnny.

He wasn’t the only one surprised by his request.  The officers, firefighters, Triple-Three crew, and most especially their loud-mouthed patient were staring at him with open disbelief.  Beyond their circle, the crowd began to rumble as they digested the words of his request.

“Did he say hot-drill?”

“Is he dying?”

“Is there a zombie?”

“I thought he was shot?”

“I don’t know!”

Ramirez snapped his fingers. “Justin hurry! Time is of the essence!”

Still openly confused at his preceptor’s request, Justin moved forward unzipping the medical bag and handing him the hot-drill. 

Ramirez looked at the policemen present and still speaking in his loud voice he said, “Officers, for everyone’s safety, will you please restrain this poor soul with your handcuffs?”

“What the fuck are you playing at!” screamed Johnny.

The crowd was still caught up on the words, “for everyone’s safety.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Has he turned?”

“Isn’t that’s him talking?”

“Naw, that someone else!”

Ramirez looked at Drifts and Justin. “Keep an eye on our patient,” he said grimly. “I’ll be right back.”

Drifts hissed, “Leo, what the hell are you doing?”

Ramirez ignored his partner, as he stepped outside the ring of first responders, still holding the hot-drill.  He called out in his best commanding voice, “Attention!  May I have everyone’s attention?  I’m afraid I need to ask all of you to please return to your homes and bar your doors for your own safety!  This man’s wound appears to be infected.”

“What!” shouted Johnny from inside the ring.

His reaction, however, was drowned out by the crowd’s gasp.

“What did he say?”

“Infected?”

“Infected!”

“Zombie!”

“Bit by a zombie!”

“Bit on the ass by a zombie!”

Ramirez continued to shout over the escalating tension. “So for your own safety, please return to your homes while we handle this crisis!”

The crowd grew louder and louder and as they talked to one another.  Many of them tried to look through the ring of first responders, but the firefighters and officers closed ranks.

Ramirez could pick out Johnny’s voice in the crowd. “I’m not a fucking zombie!”  But his voice was lost in the growing murmurs.

First one person walked slowly away.  An older man started off nonchalantly, then his pace grew faster and faster the further he progressed from the crowd. Then another, a woman in a pink bathrobe, walked away.  Then another started for home.  Moments later, a whole group of people peeled off down the street.

A particularly distressed woman looked at the group leaving. “Casey!  What the hell are you doing leaving me here alone with a damned zombie?”  She bolted after the mob of people.

Her flight caused a chain reaction among the bystanders.  Panic flashed through those that remained and people started to flee in groups and alone. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here!”

“Zombie!”

“Get inside!”

“Another damned outbreak!”

“Zombie!”

Some of the braver stragglers remained, still trying to see through the first responders.  Johnny’s irate voice was starting to become more distinct. “What kind of shit are you motherfuckers trying to pull?”

Then a voice screamed out over the dwindling crowd. “He just tried to fucking bite me!”

“What!”

Panic flashed through the remaining crowd.  People bolted every which way screaming as self-preservation overrode curiosity.  They hightailed for wherever they perceived safety.  A few loud, chaotic moments later, the first responders found themselves completely alone on the street.

Ramirez walked back through the ring of police officers and firefighters openly grinning at him.  He looked at Drifts. “Nice touch.”

Drifts smiled back. “Anytime, brother.”

Johnny looked up at him, speechless.  Ramirez looked back with a smirk. “Tell me again, sir.  What was it you were saying about trouble?”