The Neuropathology Of Zombies Read Free

hotel guests running from the shoreline, pursued by stumbling attackers. The officers stood helpless while the scene around them disintegrated.
One of the paramedics rushed over to the circle of police officers and pushed his way to the center of the group. He was panicked, “There’s been an attack at the hospital!”
Before the Chief could respond, the hotel entrance burst open and the bloody mob spilled out into the parking lot. The officers pointed their weapons and fired indiscriminately into the crowd. Bodies dropped to the ground. Seconds after striking the pavement, the bodies stood, and continued towards the officers. There was just no stopping them.
Ramos tried to yell over the sound of the gunfire, “Shoot them in the head!”
Several officers took his advice and began scoring well aimed head shots, this time the monsters stayed on the ground. Despite the change in tactics, the police were overwhelmed, they were far outnumbered.
The chief motioned for the officers to follow him, “Back to the station! We need help, there’s just not enough men!”
The police officers retreated back to their squad cars, continuing to fire into the crowd. Ramos hesitated, and then ran towards the ambulance where his injured partner lay dying. He pushed past the paramedics and grabbed the Lieutenant. Ramos hoisted the lieutenant’s heavy body over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” called out one of the paramedics. “You can’t do that, he’ll die, he needs medical attention, we’ve got to get him to the hospital!”
“He’s going to die anyway. He’s not going to the hospital. It’s not safe!” the sergeant shouted back. He moved as swiftly as he could towards his car and gently placed Morales in the back seat. Ramos tore out of the parking lot, hoping they could make it to the police station.
Ramos pressed the gas pedal into the floor and the vehicle zipped through the narrow streets of the town. He sped through the market where only a half hour ago the outdoor bazaar was filled with tourists enjoying their vacations. Now kiosks were tipped over, carts lay on their sides, and fruits and vegetables were scattered across the ground. Gangs of attackers lumbered through the streets and alleyways. People ran in every direction trying to escape. Ramos took in the chaotic scene as he passed by, not stopping to help.
Ramos finally reached the police barracks. A group of officers held the main gate open, allowing the fleeing patrol cars to enter the base. Several of his comrades stood out front, shooting into a thickening mob of what the men were now calling ‘zombies’. Ramos darted the squad car around the amassing swarm, snaking through the gate. The tires screeched as he came to a stop in the station parking lot. As the heavy metal gate slammed shut, Ramos exhaled deeply and pressed his head against the steering wheel.
Ramos struggled to lift the lieutenant out of the back seat. Two officers sensed his urgency and came to his aide.
“Let’s get him inside, he needs water!” the Sergeant instructed.
They brought the Lieutenant into the station and laid him on the floor of a small office just off the reception area. Ramos held Morales’s head. Morales had fallen unconscious and could not drink from the cup of water held against his lips. Ramos laid him back down and covered his forehead with a cold, wet towel. Ramos stepped away and one of the officers trained in first aide attended to the lieutenant’s injuries.
Ramos waited impatiently while the Lieutenant was cleaned. He saw a gaping wound across Morales’s neck, the trachea was visible, as were the pulsing carotid arteries. Air leaked from the perforated windpipe forming bubbles in the blood as it pooled in the deep gash. Ramos saw a second bite mark on Morales’s left shoulder, it was swollen and red and already looked infected. The Lieutenant’s skin was pale and clammy, his hair was soaked, and stuck to his forehead.
“He’s in trouble,” the treating