I couldn't tell you how many days its been. Even before this plague ripped my world apart I was unaware of linear time, each shift seemed to blend together. Each day lost in the quiet chaos of a mind drowning in the sorrow of those who called for help. When I closed my eyes, a quiet movie flickered behind my eyelids. Children mangled in cars, husbands losing wives, the scent of blood lingering in my nose after sitting for hours in the shower. People murdered before the outbreak. They murdered for fun, over territory, to take what another had. Iv cradled the bullet torn bodies of many a man women and innocent child. "Nothing you could have done kid" my partner would tell me, "the circle of life spins on". It didnt take long for my soul numb, my heart to darken. Yet I still woke up every day, pulled on my uniform, and plopped down in the driver seat of my ambulance. Hoping maybe today would be different. Maybe no one would need help and life would go on undisturbed...should have wished for something else.
I can still remember the hollow quiet on zero day, we had just finished lunch and I had been given my nickname. stealyogrills or grills for short. Long story short, I couldn't steal your girl but by god I could take over the kitchen and make some damn good food. That break didnt last long though, the bells rang and off we went to an apartment fire. We had been inside that burning apartment for almost 30 minutes when our radios stopped working. My air was low and my partner was spent. As we push out of the house through the front door, the thick black smoke whisking away into the cold winter morning, I was met with not chaos but a lonely road peppered with fire trucks and police cars. All the lights still flashing, reds and blues bouncing off the ice covered homes, but devoid of those we had left but 30 minutes earlier to descend into the hellish flames. We tried our radios again, but our voices were carried away into emptiness. I turned to my partner Mike, we said nothing, just knew we had to find our comrades. I drove Engine 1 with Mike at my side until a buzzer broke the silence. "No fuel" I mumbled. "Guess we walk rookie" Mike grumbled back. Those were the last words he ever said. Not a minute after we stepped out of the truck and we were running for our life. There could have been 10 or maybe fifty, I just knew they were not human any longer. They walked with a slump, their skin frozen, their eyes dark. That group came from the woods, then another from the school we stopped in front of. Mike was old and worn, I looked back to him reaching in a cops car, pulling a shot gun from the front seat. He looked solemn, resolved. That old fuckers face cracked a grin, and that grin was wiped away with buckshot. Asshole could have at least wished me luck, or told me it would be ok. No comfort for me though, just another slide in the film that would play when I tried to sleep tonight.
I escaped into the woods, finding what i needed from abandoned homes. Sifting through the memories of a family to feed and clothe myself. Sometimes I would go through the pictures, just to see a normal face. Soon though I had given up hope. Why should I even try anymore. I got my wish though, NO ONE needed my help anymore. Then I met Jenny.
Jenny ran a clinic in these dark times. Giving to others the aid I once was called upon to give myself. She had a kind spirit and always provided to those in need. Even if those in need were the scum that exploited the weak in a time with no law. I didnt understand it, but I knew it was right. For the first time I knew what I was doing held a higher meaning. My mind slowly dug though the darkness, clutching to ribbons of light provided by my new calling, pulled by my new leader into a tainted normalcy. Should have known it wouldn't last though, nothing does these days.
Jenny left one day, didn't say much, just left. Like my comrades on the day of the outbreak, so too did she seem to vanish. My calls on the radio lost to the void, replaced once more by the shooting, the killing, the stealing and the evil of mankind. My fellow medics soon left for larger groups. I dont blame them, they need protection, fellowship, warmth in the wasteland. I however do not. My mind slowly slipping away, covered by the dreams of this wretched place. My pack once sloshed with saline, rustled with medication and was light with badges. All this replaced with the rattle of bullets, my weapons now hold the place of healing, my pack heavy with the tools of hate. I dont know how long my love will last, my tolerance for evil things. I need a beacon once more, be it my lost leader, or the muzzle flash from my rifle.
FIREFIGHTER EMT-P 29 SHAUN B.