by Kent Reaper
Living Death: Deliverance
By
Kent Reaper
Copyright © 2012 by Kent Reaper
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Kenneth Cook, a medical school dropout with a terrible mistake that haunts him to this day, walks the corridors of the hospital, pretending he still has his life on track, pretending he's still working with Jenny, a fellow intern that he's been crushing on since forever. But none of that matters the minute the dead start attacking the living. With his world falling apart and the hospital in complete chaos, his life is saved by a man desperate for someone to help deliver his pregnant wife's baby. Will Kenneth reconcile with his past to pick up his doctor's coat once more and save the vulnerable or abandon a family to certain death as he ignores their plight, choosing to find Jenny and escape instead?
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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Table of Contents:
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
A Personal Message From Kent Reaper
Bonus Sequel Excerpt
About Kent Reaper
One
* * * * *
Kenneth Cook trudged down the hall. His head drooped, his footsteps heavy. People in blue, white and green zipped by him, treating his existence like a mere obstacle in their way. He looked up, watching them stride by with purpose, with stethoscopes draped around their necks, sitting on wheelchairs and with IV drips stuck in their arms.
Why are you even here? He asked himself for the umpteenth time even though till now, he still couldn't find an answer.
He arrived at the end of the corridor and couldn't help but look through the small glass pane into ward 29. A single, heavily pregnant woman lay inside, her devoted husband and father of her kids sat beside her, holding her hand, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.
Kenneth smiled, remembering their exuberant anticipation of new life when he last came in to check on the chart at the end of the bed. He would have been there too, when the newborn was going to be delivered into this world and about to take its first gasp of stale, hospital air.
Shaking his head wistfully, he turned back from the ward and started making his way down the corridor again.
I think it's best if you consider whether a career here is really right for you.
Kenneth shook his head in forceful denial. As if that could stop the image of his ex-supervisor's disappointed face from flashing over and over again in his mind.
Forget it. It's over.
Or was it? If it was indeed over, then why was he still unable to let go of it all?
Why was he still here?
Kenneth didn't have an answer. But deep down, he probably knew how much he'd miss this place.
No longer an intern, he was freed from the continuous high pressure obligations the hospital piled upon him. But as that weight was taken away, so was his purpose in life.
Now, he found himself wandering the halls of the hospital in a daze, like a zombie trudging along with a one track mind of nothing until it could no longer stop walking.
"Kenny? Kenny, is that you?"
Kenneth walked on.
"I knew it, Kenny! It had to be you!"
A hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around easily enough. Apathy made him easier to manipulate.
Kenneth found himself staring at a slightly fatigued, but still cheerful face, a face that he would still have carried if he hadn't given up.
"Jen, hey." Kenneth smiled weakly; his cheeks flushed a sudden red as he struggled to look in her eyes. After what he did, the confidence that he had spent years building up had left him within the day.
"What's going on with you?"
"Nothing."
"Aw c'mon! Life can't be that bad, right?"
"Heh Jen, you have no idea."
Normally, an outburst like that anywhere else would be grounds for public disturbance. But here in the hospital, it happened so often it seemed normal. The people around him were so caught up in their own tasks that such things were gladly left to the police on duty.
"Is everything alright?" A burly cop with one hand on the holster of his revolver showed up immediately.
Kenneth felt his chest tighten and the breaths he took speeding up.
"No no, officer, everything is fine." Jenny waved him away.
The cop looked at Kenneth for what seemed like forever, sizing him up, assessing if he was likely to be a potential threat.
"You have a good day, ma'am." He nodded before walking away.
Kenneth heaved a sigh of relief watching the figure decked in dark blue grow smaller by the minute.
"Thanks Jen."
"C'mon Kenny! What are friends for?"
Friends, ha. Yeah. Kenneth's smiled without realizing it as he walked with her down the hall.
"You want a snack? My shift just ended and I'm starving!"
"Nah, I'm not hungry. But I'll walk you there."
"So tell me, Kenny, do you really think pretending to be the resident ghost is a worthwhile hobby to have?"
"Oh c'mon, do I look that bad?"
Jenny nodded, trying her best not to laugh.
A small chuckle finally escaped Kenneth's lips. No matter what, it was always Jenny who could cheer him up. He no longer stared downwards when he talked to her, especially not when he finally realized how inappropriate it was.
"So… why aren't you back in school?"
"I dropped out."
Kenneth tried not to let the shock on Jenny's face affect him.
"Are you serious, Kenneth Cook?" That jovial demeanor was gone, her cheerful, joking voice turned into one of serious concern.
Kenneth nodded, suddenly losing the courage to look Jenny in the eye once again.
"Why the hell would you do that? Didn't you once tell me that becoming a doctor was your absolute dream? Whatever happened to the Kenny I knew?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you."
"Oh yes you do. Two months of interning together and you suddenly throw up, go home, call in sick and never come back. Kenneth Cook, you better believe you owe me an explanation."
"Jen, haven't you forgotten how you always raise your voice when you're excited?"
Jenny looked around, finding the curious glances of fellow doctors and nurses rather embarrassing.
"Oh. Sorry." She smiled sheepishly.
"It still doesn't change anything." She huffed indignantly. "I deserve to know."
"And maybe you do." Kenneth thought about how cathartic it might finally feel to pour all his pent up stresses into a listening ear, but decided against it. "I'll say this much: I underestimated how much responsibility for a patient I could comfortably take."
"And for dropping out? One failed internship doesn't spell career suicide y'know?"
"Have you forgotten about the grading system?"
Jenny's eyes widened as she nodded her head like she understood. "Oh, right. Sorry."
At least I can a few words with her.
"Oh no, my shift! Gotta run!" Jenny looked at her watch and almost freaked out. "See you around, Kenneth. Don't worry, you'll find your way soon, okay?"
"Yeah, okay." Kenneth muttered.
But Jenny didn't stick around to hear his reply. She was already rushing down the end of the table and out of the cafeteria, her white lab coat trailing behind her like a superhero's cape of healing.
Heh. She's amazing… And too good for me. Kenneth sighed, letting himself sink back into a wallowing daze of despair. The coffee in his hand was no longer piping hot, reminding him of a spark in him that once was.
Seriously, though, why am I even here? Kenneth stared out the window and into the murky waters of future decisions. His mom was getting on his case and his dad had long refused to speak to him after he dropped out. He'd relive the exciting, tense, unforgettable moments that made up the past few months as a lowly hospital intern as long as he could before going back to serving people at the nearest dead end fast food job or something.
His focus shifted idly from the window to the television in the corner above him. The news was blaring loudly enough to be heard above the din of doctors deep in discussion over coffee in oversized mugs similar to the one on Kenneth's table.
Television news broadcasts held nothing of interest to Kenneth. The same stories of murders, car accidents, the failing economy, the same few tragedies just packaged in a different context… Kenneth had heard and seen it all.
After keeping track of current affairs for so long, Kenneth didn't see the point anymore. People die, as they do all the time, they make and lose fortunes, governments form and regimes fall. The earth doesn't care, it just keeps on spinning.
But something about this piece of news managed to hold Kenneth's attention for more than the usual five seconds. Something about the riotous scenes at the city center and armed soldiers shooting rounds at bloodied civilians caught live on camera piqued his interest.
Initially it looked like another inhumane regime was oppressing its citizens through use of the military. But the place, the people, the buildings, it all seemed too familiar for comfort.
Hey, wait a fucking minute. Isn't that just a few blocks from here? Kenneth suddenly felt his heart rate increase a few notches.
The bloodied civilians sprawled on the ground were realistic enough, but those that got right back up, ambling unsteadily towards their shooters were not.
But what caught Kenneth surprise were bloody, bloody people, civilians, cops and soldiers alike, covered in blood, shrugging off shrapnel, bullets and fire like it was nothing. They ambled slowly, but surely towards their attackers, trampling on their morale with each unyielding step.
"We have received confirmation. We are under attack! Repeat! We are under attack!" One soldier in the footage screamed at the top of his lungs before being buried under a horde of those… walkers.
"Well, that's the only footage we've managed to procure so far. Some experts, including those that are with us today are saying that it's… it's some sort of virus." Even the newscaster's voice sounded unstable, laced with undertones of genuine fear.
"Hey! Someone turn that up!"
Kenneth turned around to find a group of people surrounding him, their eyes equally fixated on the screen above them. One of them, probably the cafeteria lunch lady, raised the remote control in her hand and finally made the news audible.
The newscaster on the television screen was panned over to an interview of a panel of 'experts'.
Men and women with fancy degrees and qualifications from all sorts of first rate institutions in various positions of power sat sheepishly and unnervingly uncertain.
"Do we know what's making them get up like that?" The reporter asked.
They looked at each other and shook their heads.
"I'm afraid as of this moment we have yet to ascertain the nature of this disease."
"So it is a disease then."
"That's one theory."
"Then?"
"It could be a disease, a virus, something. But right now, we don't know."
"Is there any way to stop them. Those… things?"
"We don't know for sure."
"Is there anything that you 'experts' do know?" The newscaster's annoyed desperation was beginning to show.
"We've had reports that the infected (right now, that's the term we're employing) seem to be permanently incapacitated when their heads are separated from their bodies."
"And is this… effective? W-wait, you're talking about putting these people down? They're infected, but they're still people right?! You can't just advocate killing them!"
The broadcaster gestured towards the camera, signaling for the cameraman to cut the feed. Thankfully for Kenneth and every other person fortunate enough to still be watching the cameraman thought the circumstances exceptional to blindly follow the broadcaster's orders.
"No." One of the older experts stood up. As far as Kenneth could recall, this was the first time he was speaking. He had a 'Director of Virus Research, Communicable Disease Center' title written below his name. "As of now, we still do not know exactly what is causing people to act this way. But from whatever limited information we've managed to gather so far, the infected are already dead. There is little hope for an immediate cure, given how fast acting this disease is, how little time we have and how the infected have begun attacking those that aren't."
"Cut the feed! Dammit, cut the feed!" The broadcaster shouted at last. He turned to the men and women sitting stoically across the table from him.
"You're supposed to give people hope! Tell them about our efforts so far towards a cure!"
"We have to be realistic! The people deserve the truth! Honestly, we're working as hard as we can, but we don't have a cure yet." The same man stood up to shout back.
The interview cut to a brief blackness before switching to the day's entertainment news in some morbid attempt to normalize the world-changing events that were taking place that very moment.
Kenneth could hear murmurs from medical staff around him. Some sounded worried, others were frantically mashing away at their smartphones, calling and texting family members.
"Let's go find Gary, he's a cop. He should know what's going on." A nurse suggested. Another nurse agreed. They left.
"T-this can't be." A nurse stuttered as she looked blankly out the window.
"What is it? Margaret? Tell us!" Her colleagues gathered round her.
"911. I can't call get through. Their voice mail's saying they're being overwhelmed and they'll get back to me as soon as they can."
"Are you serious?"
The growing panic around Kenneth was starting to affect him. Just five minutes ago, life had seemed so meaningless, his future almost uncertain. He was entertaining thoughts of giving up this farce, telling himself to stop pretending to be a doctor and start getting a real job instead.
But now, now, everything had changed.
* * * * *
Two
