Saving the Dead (14 page)

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Help!” Beula screamed as the crew pulled her out on the stretcher. “Wilbur, help me!  Wilbur?  Where the hell are you?”

“I think Wilbur’s in here.” Drifts pointed to the nursing home behind him.

Beula stabbed him with the hate in her eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, you sissified pig raper!”

Justin snorted at the stunned look on Drifts’s face.  Ramirez doubled-checked his chart to hide his smirk.

“Come on!” Drifts told them. “Let’s get this old bat inside this hell-hole so we can get the fuck out of here!”

“Help!”

“Yeah.  Yeah.”

They approached the entrance of the immense building and Drifts tried the door.  It was locked.

“Oh, this is just fucking perfect,” growled the EMT.

He punched the buzzer.  “Bzzzzz!”

“Man, I hope they hurry the hell up.  I don’t want to be here all night!”  The seconds drew on and no one talked to them through the intercom or approached the door.  Drifts pressed the buzzer another couple of times.  “Damn!  Where the hell is the staff?”

“They might all be taking a smoke break at the same time,” Ramirez suggested.

“Oh, man, if they are doing that again, I’m going to be pissed,” said Drifts.

“Aren’t you already pissed?” asked Ramirez.

“There are levels, Leo.  There are levels.  Right now, I’m a little more perturbed than the status quo.”

Justin looked at him. “They abandon their patients at the same time for a smoke break?”

Ramirez nodded. “More often than you’d think.”

“But what if their patients needed something?” asked Justin.

“That is the crux of it.”

“That’s horrible!” exclaimed Justin.

“Help!” screeched Beula.

“It is,” agreed Ramirez, “but places like Open Arms are not well known for their patient care.”

A middle-aged woman with too much makeup passed the hallway by the door.  Drifts banged on the glass. “Hey!”

She jumped, clutching her chest.

Ramirez stepped forward, taking the reins of the situation. “Excuse us, ma’am, but could you let us in?  We’re here to return one of your patients, Mrs. Carter, to room 220, but no one has answered the door or the intercom.”

The woman took a moment to survey them with suspicious eyes.  She then slowly nodded and opened the door.

“Thank you,” said Ramirez.

“Finally!” mumbled Drifts.

The lady in scrubs said, “You fellas nearly scared the bejesus out of me!”

“We apologize, but like I said, we had been waiting there for a while, and you were the first soul to acknowledge us.”

She looked annoyed. “How long have you boys have been waiting out here?”  She waved their response away as she answered her own question. “If I’ve them told those punks upstairs once, I’ve told them a thousand times that they can’t leave the intercom unattended!  Gerald better not have snuck off to toke on his reefer again.  That shit makes him awful stupid, and he don’t have much going on upstairs in the first place.”

Drifts smirked.  Justin looked at her shocked.  Ramirez took it in as a matter of course. “Let’s hope not.  That wouldn’t be too professional.”

“Professional!  Ha!” She snorted. “This crew wouldn’t know professional if it bit them on the ass!”

“Help!  Wilbur, come out to help me, you damn fool!”

The woman seemed to notice their patient for the first time. “Oh, you brought her back.”

“You know Mrs. Carter?” asked Ramirez.

“I should.  She damn near bit me last month.  At first I thought she turned into a deader, but she’s just a mean old biddy!”

“We’ve noticed,” said Drifts.

She smiled at the tattooed EMT. “I’m sure you have.  Do you boys need me to show you to her room?”

Ramirez shook his head, “That won’t be necessary.  We’ve been here a time or two.  We know our way around fairly well.”

“Good because I’m going to go find a few of my coworkers and give them a piece of my mind!”

“Give ‘em hell!” Drifts cheered her on.

“Oh, I intend to.”  She stalked down the hall and the crew headed for the elevator in the opposite direction.

As the elevator dinged open, Justin asked, “Do people do that here?”

“Do what?” asked Ramirez.

“You know. . .” He lowered his voice. “Get high?”

“Yes.  I’ve heard of that happening before,” said Ramirez.

“Yeah, I think I know who she’s talking about,” Drifts added. “Remember that big dude that helped us with our last transfer here?  He reeked of pot so bad that I think I had a contact high.  Damn, I couldn’t get hold of a bag of Dorritos quick enough!” 

Ramirez snorted. “I remember that.”

“Wow.” Justin shook his head. “I don’t know what to say about all of that.  How do places like this even stay open?”

Drifts chimed in, “Give us your tired, your poor, your forgotten, your unloved, so we can hide them.  That way we can ease your troubled soul by keeping their suffering out of your line of sight!”

Justin looked at him for a moment. “You’re kind of an asshole, aren’t you?”

“Why, yes.  Yes, I am,” Drifts said proudly.

When the elevator dinged open on the second floor, they were assaulted with the bold aromas of week-old urine and unwashed bodies.

“Fuck!  You’d think as often as we have been here I would have gotten used to this place’s stink!” griped Drifts.

  The second floor made the first look like a five star hotel in comparison.  The dingy hall was lit by crackling fluorescent lights, a yellowing wallpaper that had been white decades earlier, and a linoleum floor that seemed to be permanently dirty. 

The area was too still.  Ramirez’s hand drifted to his flashlight. 

Drifts noticed his partner’s movement and looked at him.  He asked in a hushed tone, “Do you think one of the residents kicked the bucket and decided to share the love?”

Eyes alert, the medic said, “I’m not sure.”

“Help!”

The three of them jumped with a combined scream.  Ramirez lowered his flashlight as he shot Beula an annoyed look.

“Dammit!” Drifts said.  “Don’t you know screaming like that is not conducive to your long-term health?”

Ramirez appeared to be more relaxed. “If there is anything to be worried about here, that certainly would have alerted them to our presence.”

“Mrs. Carter?”

Drifts jumped again. “What the fuck!”

A cute young woman in scrubs appeared around the corner. She stared at the tattooed EMT with wide eyes.

Ramirez stepped forward. “Sorry, ma’am.  The quiet here seemed ominous.  You just startled us a bit.”

“Startle nothing!” Drifts added. “I’m going to have to change my shorts after that.”

“Which ones, the leopard print or the red thong?” Ramirez asked without cracking a smile.

“Neither. Today I’m in my camo print,” said Drifts.

“Ahhh.”

The young woman smiled at their interaction. “Now that is something I would like to see.”

“Maybe after a shower, I’ll feel a bit more inclined to share.”

She winked. “It’s a date.”

Drifts grinned. “Not yet, but maybe after you give me your number.”

She looked at him, taken aback, then a smile slowly spread across her face. “Okay.”

“Help!” screamed Beula.

Ramirez sighed and stepped between their eye contact. “As much as I hate to stand in the way of young . . . love.  Could you let us into 220 so we can get Mrs. Carter back in her bed,” He looked at her badge. “Regina?”

“Oh sure.  I was just about to put a gentleman on the bed pan when I heard you guys scream,” Regina chuckled.

She peeked inside the door she came out of. “Mr. Johnson, can you wait a minute while I help these ambulance folks?”

A frail voice called back, “I can’t!  I’m prairie dogging here!”

Regina winced. “I should let Gerald, get this guy.  He’s a total lift assist and doesn’t help out all.  Guys, if you could wait for me outside of 220 please.  I’m sorry this might take awhile.  I think Gerald might have been answering a call light down the hall in room 217.”

“I’ll help you with Mr. Johnson,” said Ramirez. 

“You will?” Regina and Drifts asked at the same time.

Ramirez shrugged. “Sure, I can lend you a hand.  Sam, you go ahead and wait outside of the room for Regina or Gerald.”

Regina beamed at him. “Oh, thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”

Drifts shook his head as he watched Ramirez enter the room with Regina.

Inside the man called, “Hurry!”

Drifts sighed. “Come on, kid.  Let’s go wait outside her room.”

When they turned the corner and started down the long hallway, Drifts said, “Man, I’m going to have some fun with that girl.”

“Regina?”

“No, I meant Beula here. Of course I meant Regina,” said Drifts.

Beula hissed, “You stay away from me, I’ll or rip your pecker off with my teeth!”

“Duly noted, ma’am,” said Drifts. “Yeah, if Leo doesn’t cock block me in there or anything.  He’s been known to do that from time to time.  Something about issues with having raised a daughter.  Regina, looks like she could be fun.”

Justin nodded. “She is cute.”

Drifts looked at him, “Cute?  That’s the best, you can do?  Nothing about her ass or her tits?”

Beula shot the EMT a scathing look. “You watch your filthy mouth you damn hooligan!”

Drifts smiled at her. “My apologies, Mrs. Carter.  Come on, man!  You can come up with something better than that!”

“I noticed them.  I also liked her smile.” Justin offered.

Drifts shook his head. “You’re absolutely hopeless.  You will marry the very first girl who opens her legs to you.”

As they passed room 217, they noticed that the door was partially opened.  Glancing in, Drifts saw movement inside. “I guess the other aide is in there.”

“Help!” screamed Beula.

They stopped a few doors down the hall in front of room 220.  Drifts tried the door but it was locked.

Justin asked, “So we just wait here until Regina and Leo come back?”

“That’s the plan, or if we see the other goomba come out of that room over there,” said Drifts.

“Help!”

“Hey look, kid.  I have to take a wicked piss.  Do me a favor and watch our lovely lady until I get back,” said Drifts.

“You’re going to leave me alone with her?”

Drifts shrugged. “You’ll be fine.  Just remember your training.”

He started down the hall then paused. “Oh, and don’t get in range of her claws.”  Justin looked back at Beula and took a defensive step away.  Drifts laughed. “You two crazy kids have fun!  I’ll be back in a minute!”

“Help!” screamed Beula.

“Oh, shut up,” Justin said under his breath.

“Wilbur, where the hell are you?”

Justin told her with straining patience, “Wilbur is not here, Mrs. Carter.”

“Get the hell away from me, you self-righteous little shit!”  Justin was beginning to wonder more extensively about his chosen career path. “Wilbur!  Don’t just stand there!  Get over here and help me, you damned fool!”

Justin sighed. “I told you already, Mrs. Carter, Wilbur’s not here.  No one is.  You’re having a hallucination and . . .”

Suddenly a pair of hands slapped down on his back, digging its fingers in.

“Ow!  Sam, quit it!  That hurts!” He turned and all the rest of the words died in his throat.  It wasn’t Sam.  Justin was staring up into the dead eyes of an elderly man.  Blood covered the zombie’s mouth and dripped down its nightshirt onto its bare legs. 

A scream tore from his throat as instincts honed from years of living with five older brothers and a multitude of male cousins kicked in.  Justin leapt back as his fist whipped around with a hook punch that would have made his oldest brother proud.  Justin felt the creature’s jaw splinter beneath his knuckles as his blow knocked the zombie to the floor.

“Wilbur!  Damn you! You hurt my Wilbur!”

The old man with its bloody jaw now out of socket tried to half-crawl half-stumble towards him.  Justin backed up and suddenly felt claws rake down his back.

“Ah!” he screamed.

“I will kill you for that, bastard!” shrieked Beula.

Justin jumped back as the zombie reached out for him from the floor.  He kicked out blindly, knocking one of the thing’s arms out from under it.  The zombie flopped forward on its face with a sickening thud.  Unperturbed, it pushed itself up and pressed forward.  Blood oozed from its now-broken front teeth.

Justin backed up into the stretcher and suddenly a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his throat.  Beula screamed unintelligibly as she tightened her grip around his throat.

Justin pulled at her arms as he tried to gain a little distance.  He knew he could outpace this zombie and maybe find his mentors.