The Real Night of the Living Dead Read Free

one who didn’t appear scared. But she did look impatient, like she was hoping Haas would get his butt over there fast, so they could wrap up the vaccinations.  
    The door opened, and the guard entered with Melvin behind him. The guard was pretty confident of the whole situation. He approached the bed, pulled his baton from his belt and whacked the screaming man a few times.
    The hits didn’t faze him. “Let him go,” the guard said to me. I did. The guard positioned himself, ready to attack with his baton. As I stood back, I stole a quick glance of the other patients; I noticed a few of them were moaning, others were lifeless . My eyes went back to the first patient. He stood and moved toward the closest person to him, the guard.
    “Come on, you crazy son of a bitch. I got some medication right here for ya .” The patient charged with his arms stretched out toward the guard. Guard was ready. His arm pulled back and shot forward, cracking the patient on the head. He dropped to the tiled floor, a puddle of blood beginning to form now where his head lay.
    The guard stood over him, grabbed the handcuffs from his belt and slapped them over the patient’s wrists behind his back. The patient was still conscious. I couldn’t believe it. He took a few hard blows to the head, but here he was, trying to get on his feet again.
    The guard didn’t look too thrilled. I could tell he was pissed. This patient trying to do his best to make this guard earn his worthless paycheck. I was sure along the way to N-9 the guard would take a little detour and teach this loony tune a thing or two about respecting his authority. He said as he stood, his chest heaving, “What’d they do to ya ? You got some good stuff pumped in your veins, eh?”
    “Just get him out of here, please,” said Doctor Oksenberg .
    The guard gazed at the frightened doctor, then turned to Melvin, who was standing near the door, and said to him, “Why don’t ‘cha do something useful. Grab a mop and clean this mess up.” Melvin didn’t say a word and didn’t move. The guard’s attention went back to the patient.
    The patient was trying to stand, but with his hands bound he was having a difficult time. He was struggling to push himself up with his head. That’s when the guard grabbed him by his dirty old plaid shirt and lifted him to his feet. A line of blood was hanging from the corner of his mouth, down to his chin, and onto his shirt. His yellow eyes were on the guard, and he was anxious to break free from the cuffs. I could already see that his wrists were beginning to bleed.
    We all watched as the guard struggled with the patient to get him out of the room. He started by poking him in the chest with his baton, but the enraged man kept charging. So he began pummeling him with the baton, on his face, his arms, his ribs. We watched. All of us in shock to see a man take such a beating and still keep coming. By now, his face was covered in blood, but he could care less. The only progress the hits were making was every time one landed it pushed him back a few inches.
    After another minute or so of the guard beating him, we watched as they took their show outside the room. Melvin slammed the door behind them. None of us noticed the next five patients who were waking up now, staring with stale yellow eyes.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
    Doctor Haas was with the nurse now, about to inject the last patient.
    I was with Oksenberg who was standing between the beds of the second and third patients. He was doing his observations, and I was cautious. I wasn’t trying to have one of these guys attack me like the last one.
    Melvin was still working up the courage to get near the rest of them. He was about five feet behind me. If you ask me, that was the smart thing to do: stay away.
    For a brief moment, I heard a man’s scream from somewhere in the building. Wasn’t sure if anyone else heard what I did, but I ignored it and continued staring at these