I Have a Future in Medicine

Psycho Killer KOS PKer has been killed. Do not revive.

That was all the radio announcer said. No other details are really necessary or wanted. Unfortunately, Psycho Killer will be back. Someone will revive him, either on purpose or with no knowledge of who he is. It’s depressing to think that by destroying death, evil and hatred can live on indefinitely. I suppose the same could be said about good people, but doesn’t immortality prevent you from getting a well-deserved rest?

It was hours later when I jumped at the sound of a crash and then static over the radio. A moment later, it was silent again. With no real structure in the radio network, it is impossible to say what happened and where. It could be something as innocent as a station’s generator running out of fuel, but it could also mean that a building has been overrun with zombies before anyone could send out a notice. Hopefully, it isn’t the latter.

I studied the flares, which were quite a few blocks southeast of the church. It’s odd to see them during the day, but they are hard to miss. I tried to think about how my life could fit into the new realities of Malton, but I couldn’t focus. Maybe I was too tired. Maybe it was still too horrific to think about.

Dannyboy824 showed up, and to no one in particular said, “Hey.” I don’t know if I was annoyed or frustrated, but I didn’t like the idea of chitchat. I decided I had to get out for a bit to try and clear my head.

As soon as I got outside, I saw someone stumbling towards me. At first I thought it was a zombie, but I realized it was a drunk. I was going to steer clear of him, but I realized he was hurt. It wasn’t an obvious wound, nor was it serious, but I guess after getting so much practice, I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting someone who needs help, no matter how little.

His gas mask had spots of blood on it. When the outbreak started, gas masks were in high demand because people thought that zombification was spread by breathing the same air as someone who was infected. We know better these days, but some people still insist on wearing those masks.

He yelled at me when I tried to help him, but I held up my first-aid kit, pointed at the wound on is arm, and he seemed to understand what I was trying to do. Mister Rogers wasn’t any more calm, but he at least let me get to work. I said, “Mister Rogers, you should get inside. It’s pretty safe in Kinch Heights, but it’s still dangerous to be out alone.” I noticed he was wearing a crucifix. It was similar to mine, but his was spotted in red. I wondered if he had ever spent time in St. Aloysius’s Church or a different one.

I went back inside, feeling oddly pleased with myself. It wasn’t long ago when I was having a hard time telling if someone was decapitated, even if I was holding the head in my own hands. Now I was able to spot a minor wound 10 feet away. Initially, I thought applying first-aid was the least I could do to help as I tried to figure out what to do with my life, but maybe assisting the injured and sick was my life’s purpose.

I found another FAK before I turned in for the night. I had a hard time getting to sleep, but this time it was due to excitement and my anticipation of the future. It felt good to be alive.


~ by GBGames on September 30, 2009.

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