I rush to the ambulance, open the back door and hop in and star scrounging around for the first aid kit and some sedatives. I don’t know if Jenny has rabies or something else but I want to take any chances that she’ll attack me again. For that matter, I got to worry that my partner will have whatever she has. I grab some disinfectant and add it to first aid kit. I put all of it on the stretcher and then wheel the stretcher to the house.
I carry the first aid kit and the sedatives into the house. Dan is sitting on the floor clutching his bleeding arm, looking glassy eyed from the shock.
“Dan, you with me?” I ask.
He shakes his head and says, “Yeah. I’m just feeling off.”
“Getting bit will do that to you,” I wryly respond.
Dan chuckles, which I take as a good sign.
“I want you to apply this disinfectant to your arm. I’m going to put a couple sedatives in Jenny and then I’ll help you wrap your arm. Then you and I will get her on to the stretcher and get both of you back to the ambulance, ok?”
“”S-sure,” Dan says.
I hand him the disinfectant and then pull the sedatives out. I cautiously walk up to Jenny. She still looks like she’s out. I’d check her pulse, but I don’t want to take a chance of getting bitten, just in case she’s faking. I get the first sedative ready, and plunge it into her leg. She briefly stirs, which tells me she’s alive. I debate whether to stick her with a second sedative. It could be risky, but she was so adrenalined before that I don’t want to take a chance of not giving her enough. I put the second sedative in her and then turn to Dan.
He’s smeared the disinfectant on the bite wound, but it looks ugly.
“Let me wrap it for you,” I say.
“P-pleease,” He slurs.
I look at him concerned. I know him and he’s not normally like this. I start wrapping his arm and he looks at my hands as I work with an anxious gaze.
“Dan, are you with me?”
“I-I’m feeelinnngggg weeirddd.”
“Are you able to help me get Jenny on the stretcher?”
“I-I think so.”
“Go over to her legs and then I’ll go to her shoulders. We’ll get her on the blanket and then move her onto the stretcher.”
We roll her on to the blanket.
“Lift her now,” I instruct.”
We lift her, carefully, using the blanket and get her on the stretcher. I start securing her arms and legs with straps on the stretcher that can hold down a 350 pound man who’s on drugs. I know because I’ve had to do to that before, and I figure even with whatever is in her system, this will work.
We start wheeling her out her and she stirs.
“What the fuck?” I swear.
Normally the sedatives I pumped into her should have her knocked out for a few hours, but she’s already waking back up. Whatever she’s on is something wicked.
Author’s note: This is a short story excerpt set in the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Universe. Each week I’ll write another part of the story on here. If you enjoy, check out the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series and my free story, The Zombie Apocalypse Convenience Store
