When it started, I was drunk.
Not an uncommon theme for me in those days, being home alone with nothing to do. I remember sitting there on the couch, watching it all unfold on CNN.
"The Dead Walk!" it said on the ticker, right above the stock market scroll. The phone ringing and sounds of the neighbor next door yelling at his wife to hurry up and pack. The caller ID said it was the station.
"Screw them," I thought to myself. "they only want me because they're desperate." It was true though. Both the desperation, and the reasoning. "Suspension without pay, pending further investigaiton." was the official line. More like "Suspended for doing my job, when a councilman's son is involved."
Kid had gotten drunk at some bar named "Carinas". Decided that he was a big man, and pulled a knife on a waitress for being "rude". I was on patrol, and got called in. 10 minutes later, he's on the way to the hospital with a broken nose in cuffs, and I'm being thanked by both the waitress (Maria was her name. Nice girl.) and the owner of Carinas.
The next morning, I'm hauled into the chief's office and given the riot act. "Excessive force" he says. "Belligerant drunken minor with a deadly weapon" I say. So I was suspended. It wasn't until I passed the kid and his father on the way out that I realized it was Councilman Ander's son. The smirk on his face...I should have aimed for his mouth. Christ I hate politics.
So I was drunk, annoyed and ignoring the ringing phone when I heard the screaming. Mrs. Ellis, the widow down the street was running past the house, screaming like the devil was on her heels. It was then that I saw it. That first one. It was like time stood still.
He was some kind of doctor, I think. A (formerly) white coat. Blue(ish) scrubs. His eyes were bulging and bloodshot. A ragged tear revealed he didn't have much of a throat left. Most of his left arm below the elbow was missing. I saw him running there, after Mrs. Ellis in slow motion. So I acted before thinking. Thankfully, I had enough sense to grab my nightstick on the way out the door.
I chased it down. Got it's attention with a yell. It tried to grab me by the wrists and almost succeeded. The booze was making me sloppy. Thankfully, I remembered my training. A few kicks to the knee brought it down, grasping at my leg. I hit it then. Repeatedly, in the head while it tried vainly to bite me. It stopped moving after the head finally gave. So there I was, covered in blood and drunk as a skunk. It was just the beginning of a really bad day.
