The Infected (Book 1): Jim's First Day Read Free Page A

face full
of explosion must have messed with his hearing. I look over the dishwashers.
The tail end of the helicopter reads Providence Hospital. That hospital is only
a mile away.
    “It
must have had engine problems. Oh God! All those guys are dead.”
    Sam
sticks his fingers in his ears. He works to get his hearing back.
    “Should
I lock the doors?” yells Bill.
    “What’s
the point? We don’t have a wall right now.” I yell back. Why am I yelling? I am
not mad at Bill. My hands shake and my heart beats hard enough that I can feel
my pulse on my forehead. Goddamn this is the most exciting thing I have ever
seen. I look around the floor and no one else is hurt. Tracy was over at her
desk on the other side of the building. She has come around her desk to get a
better look at the action. The poor girl has peed her pants. The front of her
khakis are soaked. I look away. I don’t want her to know that I saw it. I don’t
blame her. I am about to unload in the back of my slacks.
    I
pull my cell out and dial 911. The phone rings and rings. No answer. I hang up
and try again. The Jiffy Lube burns, all that oil, it looks like a photo from
the Gulf War. Black smoke fills the sky and lays down a thick fog on the ground
around it. Some blood has got onto one of Sam’s new shoes. He quickly rubs the
blood off his leather footwear and it gets all over his hand. He shows me the
blood on his hand. Like I need to clean it for him. That is when he notices his
customer on the ground. The blood on his shoe came from her. 
    “Linda,
are you okay?!” he shakes her body.
    “I
don’t think she’s okay!” I give up on my phone and put it in my pocket.
    “She’s
dead,” Sam loses it. “She’s DEAD! Oh, SHIT!” his voice cracks. He looks up at
me. I nod.
    “Yeah
Sam. No one’s answering at 911. Bill, get him up and get him some water.”
    Bill
snaps to. I get up and run over to the closest fire extinguisher. My nerves are
so shot it takes me a full minute to read the instructions. It has only two
steps but it is like I have never read English before. The van’s engine runs
like the driver has his foot all the way to the floor. Between it and the other
fires going on, this place is filling up with smoke quickly. I finally master
the art of the extinguisher and sprint to the closest flame. I have always
wanted to do this. Shoot an extinguisher on a flame, I mean. It always looked
so cool on TV. Behind me Devon has emerged with his own fire retardant device
and the two of us go to work.
    Even
with all of the excitement and tragedy going on I am very aware of how sexually
charged this act is. Hear me out. The flame burns so bright, so hot and the
only thing that can quench its desire and put the flame to rest is two young
men shooting it with white foam. I get it. I am the gross one. If Devon and I
were being filmed in slow-mo with eighties butt-rock blasting, you would see what
I mean. We finish putting the fires out on the appliances when our
extinguishers run out of juice. The van continues to burn in the corner of the
store. I look around for the next red can when the sprinklers go off. We are
doused with water. These sprinklers are not messing around. In a matter of
seconds I am completely soaked. The van’s fire has gone out. That’s good, I
guess. Devon and I toss our cans to the ground. Tracy’s accident has been
washed away as well. I survey the showroom. The owner is going to be pissed.
All of these appliances, TV’s and beds are ruined. I guess that’s what
insurance is for.
    “This
is some crazy shit, Dude.”
    “Yes,
Devon. This is some crazy shit. Dude,” I wipe the water away from my
eyes.  
    I
take a look around outside. All of the students from the school for the gifted
are on the sidewalk watching Jiffy Lube burn to the ground. I head over to the
front door and pop it open.
    “Is
everyone okay?!” I yell across the street. One of the female instructors shouts
back.
    “We’re
good! I can’t get 911