Tales of the zombie apocalyse call center
“I think we should check the aquarium and see if the zombies have left,” Jared says.
I look at him sharply and say, “Are you kidding me? Have you already forgotten what happened yesterday? We nearly got killed by the horde we led into the aquarium, to take out those marauders.”
“I know, but the zombies at the aquarium are probably gone now and if we’re lucky they’ve left the fish behind. I’d hate to see those fish go to waste.”
“You’re always thinking with your stomach,” I grumble.
Surviving a zombie apocalypse is no laughing matter. You need the right guns, the right gear and the right people to survive.
Unfortunately the customers of the zombie apocalypse call center don’t have the right guns, the right gear, or the right people supporting them.
Now the world has gone mad and zombies are everywhere.
Can the customers survive the zombies that are now taking over the world?
Can they survive the cutthroat survivalists who are on the hunt for more supplies and guns?
Can they trust each other enough to live another day?
Find out the fate of the customers of the zombie apocalypse call center in this anthology which shares what happens when the zombie apocalypse gets real.
Surviving a zombie apocalypse is no laughing matter. You need the right guns, the right gear and the right people to survive.
Unfortunately the customers of the zombie apocalypse call center don’t have the right guns, the right gear, or the right people supporting them.
Now the world has gone mad and zombies are everywhere.
Can the customers survive the zombies that are now taking over the world?
Can they survive the cutthroat survivalists who are on the hunt for more supplies and guns?
Can they trust each other enough to live another day?
Find out the fate of the customers of the zombie apocalypse call center in this anthology which shares what happens when the zombie apocalypse gets real.
Author’s note: This is a short story excerpt set in the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Universe. Each week I’ll write another part of the story on here. You can read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5 here. If you enjoy, check out the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series which shares more zombie apocalypse fun.
I’ve got to retreat and find weapons that’ll work. I run through the kitchen and head to the living room. I’ve got an assault rifle and shotgun there, but neither of them are loaded. If I’m going to get a loaded weapon I have to get to my zombie apocalypse bunker, which has loaded weapons in it. Or I have to get close and personal with Carol. I look around the living room and there’s a katana. It wouldn’t be my first weapon of choice to take down a zombie, but it gives me a little distance and a way to possibly kill Carol, if I can’t get to my weapons. I grab the katana by the hilt and throw the sheathe aside.
“Unnnggrryyyy!”
Carol crashes through the kitchen and emerges in the living room, panting and looking around for her prey.
“I’m right here, bitch,” I say and I slice at her with the edge of the katana.
Carol takes the blade on her forearm, with it going to the bone, but she just grunts and tries to get me with her other arm. I yank at the katana and manage to pull it out of her arm, with a spray of blood splashing against the wall. I’m off balance though and Carol barrels into me, before I can bring the blade to bear.
She snaps at me with her mouth, but doesn’t bite me, because I manage to get an arm under her throat and push her away. Carol staggers back and I whip the katana around and slice her across the face.
“Grrrrr!” she howls and then swipes at me with a hand, clawing me on the arm.
“Bitch!” I say. I never liked Carol. She was always too damn nosy and being a zombie has improved that predisposition.
I come at her with short strikes, trying to drive her back, but Carol doesn’t act like a normal human being. She takes the cuts and tries to get closer to me. I’ve got to end this fight, because she’s relentless.
I hop back and draw the blade so it’s facing Carol. She comes rushing at me and I extend my arms slightly, while also bending my knees. The tip of the blade seeks into Carol’s throat, and a deluge of blood comes out. Carol staggers and then falls to the floor, twitching. I wait a few moments and then nudge her body with the blade, just to make sure she’s dead. She doesn’t move.
I take a deep breath and sigh. My entire body is shaking with adrenaline and I just want to sit down, but I realize I have to secure the front door. There could be other zombies out there and the last thing I need is another fight like this one. I rush to the front door, grab my keys, and then close the door and lock it, using all the bolts I’ve got. I pick up the .45 and eject the jammed bullet. I’ll clean it later.
I go into the kitchen and clean myself up. I hope I can’t get infected because of being scratched, but who knows how the infection vectors spread? Next I grab Carol’s corpse and drag it to door, open the door cautiously and roll her body out. Just to be extra safe, I spray some Zombii Spray over her corpse. Maybe that’ll keep the other zombies away. I gag a bit at the spray. It’s got this lemony scent to it, but it’s supposed to repel zombies and it’s certainly repelling me.
It’s time to finish locking this place down and get into the bunker so I can survive this zombie apocalypse. I go back inside my house, and lock the door again. Then I walk down the hall to the bunker. I’m feeling a little hungry suddenly, but there’s plenty of food in my secret hideaway. I punch in the code for the bunker, step inside and close the door. I’m safe now. No zombies will get me.
Author’s note: This is a short story excerpt set in the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Universe. Each week I’ll write another part of the story on here. You can read part 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4 here. If you enjoy, check out the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series which shares more zombie apocalypse fun.
There’s Vermont. I turn right on it. My house is only a little further away. I lied to Sam about it being the Zombie Defense Base, at least for other people. It’s a defense base but only for me. Maybe eventually I’ll take some people in, build a little dystopic community based around my rules, or maybe just keep to myself. I’ve always been a loner and interacting with people bores me. The only real benefit of other people in a zombie apocalypse is that their walking meat shields.
I pull up to my house and put my car into the driveway. As the zombie apocalypse gets worse, I’m going to expect to see abandoned cars, and I don’t want my car out on the road. If I had a garage, I’d park the car in there, but the driveway will have to do. I get of my car and warily look around. The neighbors are still at work. There’s no one around.
I hurriedly walk to my front door, nervously fumbling with my keys. The zombies aren’t here yet. There’s still time to get inside and lock myself in my zombie apocalypse bunker. I get to the front door and shakenly try to insert my key into the door to unlock it. I drop the keys instead.
“Shit!”
I go to pick the keys up and that’s when I hear it.
“Unnngrrry,” someone moans.
I look around warily, but I can’t see the source of that sound.
“Unnnggrrryyyyy!”
That damn call center rep told me there were a couple zombies nearby, but he didn’t say where. That’s got to be one of them nearby.
I scoop up my keys and hurriedly jam my house key into the front door and twist it, unlocking the door with an audible click. I practically ram myself into the door to get it open.
“Unnngggrrryyyyy!”
That came from right behind me!
I rush into my house and roughly grab the door and slam it shut behind me, but it doesn’t make a slamming sound. Instead it makes the sound of a thud and then the door creaks as its opened.
I blindly turn around and fire my .45. The bullet smacks into a wall. I blink and then I see my first zombie.
It’s my neighbor, Carol. She’s black snot running down from her nose and her eyes are bloodshot. She doesn’t seem to recognize me.
“C-carol, are you, are you ok?” I hesitantly ask.
“Unnnnggggrrrryyyy!”
“Yeah, there’s no food you here, Carol,” I reply.
She stalks toward me, her mouth slavering.
“Unnggrryyy,” she moans.
“Sorry Carol, but I’m not on the menu today, or ever,” I say. Then I point my gun at her and click the trigger. Nothing happens.
“Shit,” I swear as I start backing away from Carol. I try shooting the gun a couple more times, but no bullets come out. The gun must have jammed.
Carol lunges at me. Her left hand grabs my right arm and she reels me toward her with inhuman strength. I push back against that hand futilely. I can’t escape her grip. Then I realize I need to stop fighting it, and use my martial arts training. I let myself go loose and as she pulls my close, I grab her with my other hand, while twisting my right arm, which breaks her grip. Then I pick her up and throw her. She crashes into one of the walls, but rebounds up, seemingly unphased by the throw.
Author’s note: This is a short story excerpt set in the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Universe. Each week I’ll write another part of the story on here. You can read part 1, part 2 and part 3 here. If you enjoy, check out the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series which shares more zombie apocalypse fun.
After what seems like forever the phone clicks again.
“Angela, you there?” Sam asks.
“I am. You have that information for me yet?” I tersely ask.
“I do. What road are you on?”
I check where I am on the map app I’m using.
“I’m currently on highway 43. I’ll be turning right in half a mile, to my street, Vermont. Then I need to drive a few blocks to get to my house.”
I didn’t realize how close I am to home, which makes feel a bit relieved, but you know how it goes in horror movies. It’s when you let your guard that the zombies strike.
“It looks like there’s been a couple zombies near your location,” Sam says distractedly.
“Shit! What do I do?” I don’t know why I’m asking him that question. I know what to do, but I think it’s the adrenaline in me.
“If you see any zombies, don’t try to hit them with your car, because where you see one there’s usually more, so hitting one will just draw them like flies going to compost. I recommend trying to avoid them as best as possible.”
No shit, Sherlock, I think to myself.
“Ok and then what? I need more helpful advice than avoid hitting them with my car!” I snap.
“Well, if you can help it, don’t stop your car. But drive safely too.”
Oh this idiot is full of wisdom.
“Duh. None of this is exactly helping me, Sam. Look I need to know what to do if I actually get stopped by zombies.”
I hear him take a deep breath.
“Ok, Angela. You told me you only have a .45 on you, correct?”
“Yeah,” I skeptically say.
“How much ammo do you have?”
“I’ve got one extra clip, plus what’s in the gun already.”
“If you get stopped by zombies, you gotta shoot them in the head. Your natural inclination might be to shoot them in the torso, which is the largest target, but torso shots won’t necessarily kill them. When you shoot, expect a little kick back and try not to panic. You’ll waste ammo that way and draw more zombies to you.”
“Now THAT’s helpful advice. What do I do when I get home?” I ask. I pretty much know what I’m going to do, but I want to see what he says and if there’s anything different.
“As far as I can tell you don’t have a lot of zombies in your area yet, but I recommend keeping your lights off and your door locked. Also, don’t plan to stay at your house too long if more zombies show up. Get whatever gear and supplies you need to help you survive together, and then find a place to hole up in with other people people you trust. You’ll want to work together to fend off zombie attacks.”
“Actually my place is the designated Zombie Defense Base, but that’s advice I’ll pass on to my friends. Now I need to focus on my driving. Thanks for the advice.”
“Thanks for calling Zombii Co. Have a good day,” Sam says.
I hang up and shake my head. If I’d know that was the level of support I was getting, I’d have never signed up for, or gotten a different package. The only good thing about the support plan is all the guns and ammo waiting for me at home.
Author’s note: This is a short story excerpt set in the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Universe. Each week I’ll write another part of the story on here. You can read part 1 and part 2 here. If you enjoy, check out the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series which shares more zombie apocalypse fun.
He gets up as close as he possibly can without hitting me. If I have to abruptly brake he’s going to hit me. It’s a clear case of road rage.
I look in the rearview mirror, at the guy road raging on me. He’s a balding, pudgy white man with glasses on. He’s giving me the finger and glaring at me. Clearly he doesn’t like the fact that I held him up from entering the highway, but instead of just continuing on his way he’s decided to follow me. Big mistake.
If I didn’t need to get home and didn’t think I would need my car, I would just slam the brakes and let him hit me, and then let our insurance providers fight it out. But I don’t have time for this idiot right now. The zombie apocalypse is here and its survival of the fittest time. Time to see if he’s got the balls to back up his bluster.
I grab my .45 and wave it and look at him in the rear view mirror. He sees that gun and he blanches and immediately slows his car down. I slow mine down too and he looks really uncomfortable. He starts looking for a driveway or a road to make a turn on. I put the gun back in the seat and keep driving, but keep an eye on him in the rearview window. He finds a driveway and turns it into and then turns around. I chuckle to myself and then speed up so I can get back home as quickly as possible.
“You are caller number 1 in the queue. Please have your account number ready. The next available phone analyst will take your call,” promises the automated female voice of the Zombii Co. phone line.
“Finally!” I mutter to myself. I shouldn’t have to wait this long when I’m paying Platinum support.
For the next couple of minutes the hold music keeps playing and then I hear a click.
“Hello, this is Sam, with Zombii Co. May I ask who I’m speaking with please?”
He sounds young, early twenties, just a bit rattled and insecure, probably because he never expected the zombie apocalypse to happen. I’ve only used the call center a couple times, but each time I’ve talked to someone from Zombii Co., I can tell they’ve thought I was an idiot. Now who’s the idiot?
“Hi, Sam, this is Angela, account number 5008934011.”
I hear the punching of keyboard keys as he enters my account number.
“How can I help you today Angela?”
I scan the road. I need to take a turn soon.
“Sam, I’m on the road right now, trying to get home from work, and I’m worried because of all the zombie sightings. I was wondering if you had updated news about where the zombies are showing up. I’ve only got my .45 with me, so I wanted to be prepared.”
“I understand. Let me see what I can find out for you.”
Before I can reply he puts me on hold and I’m listening to that annoying hold music again.
Author’s note: This is a short story excerpt set in the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Universe. Each week I’ll write another part of the story on here. You can read part 1 here. If you enjoy, check out the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series .
As I’m driving I momentarily debate whether I should hit a grocery store, but that seems like a mistake in the making. The last thing I want do is get trapped in a grocery store with a horde of zombies after me. If anything what I need to is get home and to do that I need to know what the zombie road conditions are. I speed dial the Zombii Customer support line, and I instantly hear the sound of hold music.
“Welcome to the Zombii Co. customer support line. We’re sorry to put you on hold, but we’ll get to your call as soon as possible. Hold times are currently longer than usual because of the zombie apocalypse,” I’m blithely told by an automated enthusiastic female voice.
“Fuck!” I mutter to myself. Of course the other preppers are also calling in at the same time, while likely making their way to their own bunkers. That or more likely the unprepared people who didn’t expect that the zombie apocalypse would happen. I’d laugh at them, but they’re effecting me.
“I pay for platinum support. That should get me past all the other members who don’t pay for that level of support,” I growl at the phone.
No response, just the chintzy hold music continuing to play as I drive.
I put the phone on speaker and toss it on the passenger seat. I just need to focus on getting home and if I get there without incident, all the better. I still have my .45 if it comes down to it.
I drive my car until I’m close to the highway. It’s already packed with blissfully ignorant commuters trying to get home. They probably don’t even know that the zombie apocalypse is already here, but if I get into that moving parking lot, it’ll at least take me an hour to get home and that’s assuming the news doesn’t break that the zombies are here. If that happens, I’ll probably have to walk home.
The hold music is still playing and I glare at the phone. If I could get on the line with a Zombii Co. rep they could tell me what the best route to take is, but they’re busy helping other customers instead of me, even though I’ve paid for platinum support.
I hear a honk and look in the rear view window behind me. The guy in the car flips me the bird and honks again. I’m holding him up from getting into that moving death trap he wants to join. I turn on my blinker and pull away from the line of cars waiting to get on the highway. I’ll take some back roads. I’ve practiced driving on them before, for just this occasion, and I may as well do it now.
I pull away and the guy who honked at me proceeds to do the same thing! What’s his problem?!
Author’s note: This is a short story excerpt set in the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Universe. Each week I’ll write another part of the story on here. If you enjoy, check out the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series and my free story, The Zombie Apocalypse Convenience Store
I’m at work when the zombie apocalypse happens, but as soon as I’m notified there are zombies attacking people, I do what any good prepper would do and leave work. That last minute deadline that needs to be completed somehow just doesn’t matter as much as making sure I survive the zombie apocalypse.
“Angela, where are you going?” My boss huffs as I walk by his office door.
“I’m heading out on lunch, Brad” I lie.
Brad looks at his watch and says, “You’re not due for lunch for another hour yet, and I need that project I have you working on done. Get back to your desk.”
I click my mouth and say, “No can do, Brad.”
“What did you just say to me?” Brad sputters in astonishment.
I give him a cocky look and say, “No can do. Do you need me to tell you that again?”
“You can’t to talk to me like that. You need to get back to your desk, now!”
I flippantly wave at him and keep walking toward the door.
Brad comes thundering out of his office.
“Get back here or you’re fired!” he yells.
“Not happening, Brad. I’m heading home to survive the zombie apocalypse. If you need the report that bad, get it done yourself. Oh and good luck surviving the zombie apocalypse!” I gaily reply and then skip out the door, leaving him behind, all flabbergasted.
I give him half a day tops for surviving during the zombie apocalypse. Me, on the other hand, I’ve been preparing for the zombie apocalypse for years now. Some people called me crazy, but who’s laughing now. Well soon, anyway, once I’m in my secure bunker. I figure I’ll outwait the initial zombie apocalypse and then start my life in the new dystopia, killing the zombies while scavenging for whatever I can find, and fighting or fucking the other occasional survivors I come across.
I’ve already 5 years worth of canned food in my pantry and I’m on Zombii Co’s Platinum plan, which means my bunker is loaded for bear with ammo. And I’ve also taken some martial arts classes. I’ve been ready for this for a while. And it’s finally happening.
I got notified on my Zombii Co. phone app. I heard a buzz on my phone, while working on that dumb report. I pulled it out and I’ll admit, I did a double take. It was finally happening. The event that I had been waiting for was finally happening. The zombie apocalypse was on. The app showed me incident reports of zombies in multiple places and at that point I grabbed my stuff and decided to ditch the job. Money isn’t going to matter in a couple days anyway.
I get to my car and unlock it and throw everything in. I get inside and pull open the glove compartment. I’ve got .45 in there and that’s it.
“Fuck,” I swear.
A .45 is okay, but I should have had the car better prepared for the zombie apocalypse. I’ve got a forty five minute drive home at this time of day, unless I’m really lucky and the roads aren’t too clogged up with other commuters. Then it’s only twenty five minutes. It’s two in the afternoon, I might just catch the edge of the afternoon rush.
I start my car up and pull out of the parking space and drive out of there like a bat out of a hell. Every moment counts when you’re trying to beat the apocalypse home.
Author’s note: This is a short story excerpt set in the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center Universe. Each week I’ll write another part of the story on here. If you enjoy, check out the Zombie Apocalypse Call Center series and my free story, The Zombie Apocalypse Convenience Store
You can read part 1 , part 2, part 3, part 4 and part 5 of the story here.
The man shrieks and tries to get Dan off of him, but Dan keeps him pinned down and bites him a couple more times.
“Ambulance 2901 what is going on?” the dispatcher impatiently asks.
“I found my partner and he is for certain infected. He’s just bitten a citizen and I believe the infection is passed that way. I’m going to try and restrain my partner and find the original patient, as well as get the new one to the hospital. I could use some help out here.”
“Negative ambulance 2901. We’re getting overwhelmed with calls. Get those people back here, so we can get you out there to other spots.”
Shit, what is going on? I go to open the driver side down door, when suddenly I’m grabbed from behind.
“Unnnggrrryyy,” Jenny moans at me.
She tries to pull me back at her, so she can bite me, but I lunge for the door and open it, tumbling out of her grip to the ground.
Dan looks up from his victim and growls at me. He’s become a total animal. I don’t recognize anything about him anymore.
“Unnngrrry!” Jenny shrieks.
I scramble away from the ambulance. What am I going to do? If she or Dan bites me I’ll get infected and end up like them. I don’t want that.
Jenny surges out of the ambulance and stalks toward me. Dan gets up from his victim and joins her, the two of them hunting me like I’m in Jurassic Park.
The people in the cars around me are locking their doors and trying to drive away from the scene before they get attacked. There’s no one who’s going to be a hero today. Dan shrieks at the moving cars and turns away to run after one, but Jenny isn’t distracted. She sees her next meal right in front of her.
I push myself up so I’m standing and right then Jenny runs at me. I wait for her and when she gets close, I kick her in the belly. She grunts, but then comes at me again. A normal person would be wheezing from where I hit her, but that kick only got her to pause.
She grabs one of my arms and pulls it toward her, I let her pull me, and then loosen my arm muscles and slip my arm out of her grip, while bringing my elbow from my other arm around to smack her on her shoulder. She spits some mucus in response, which I manage to dance away from. At this point I’m assuming any fluid she ejects is going to potentially infect me with whatever she’s got.
I’ve got to restrain her somehow, but I don’t know if I can. The sedatives didn’t work that well. It’s like her adrenaline is supercharged. If I can’t find a way to restrain I’m either going to have to run for it, or take her down. It’s not what I want to do, but I’ve got to do something.
Jenny rushes at me again and tries to grab me. There’s no strategy to her attack. She’s just trying to bite me. I duck out of her way and look around. There’s nothing nearby I can use to restrain her. She’s going to keep coming at me and at some point she’s going to wear me down and then bite me, unless I do stop her now.
Jenny whips around and runs at me and this time, when she comes close, I avoid her grasping hands, and I punch her in the throat, as hard as I can. Her eyes widen with and pain and she sinks to her knees, clutching at her throat and gasping for breath. I feel a surge of shame at what I’ve done. I’m supposed to preserve life, not destroy it, but here I am standing over the gasping, dying infected person.
She weakly tries to grab me, but I easily evade and watch as she sputters and gasps. After a few moments she stops moving. I gingerly step toward her and nudge her with my foot, but there’s no response. I shudder for a moment and then grab myself. I don’t have time to breakdown. I’ve got stop Dan and check on the man he bit.
I step away from Jenny’s corpse and go to check on the man. He’s still on the ground, motionless and I see why. Dan ripped his throat with his teeth. I don’t know whether to feel horrified or relieved that the man is dead. At least he’s not infected, but he’s dead and there’s nothing I can do for him.
I look around for Dan and find him on top of car, smashing his way through the front glass to try and reach a terrified family. They can’t move their car, because it’s wedged between the other cars and we’ve now got a huge accident, because people panicked and drove through the intersection and slammed into each other, and the original accident while trying to escape Dan.
“Dan, what the fuck are you doing?” I yell.
I don’t expect my yell to stop him, but he hears me and immediately bounds off the car toward me. His face and hands are bloody and he looks deranged, his hair going all over the place.
“Huuunnggggrrry!”
“Yeah I get that, but you’ve already had your human snack for the day. It’s time to stop. If there’s any part of you that recognizes me, you’ve got to stop so I can get you help,” I plead.
For a moment, Dan pauses and just looks at me. Is there some part of him still in there?
Then his eyes narrow and whatever was there is gone. All that’s left is an infected cannibal that wants to eat me alive. Dan shrieks and rushes at me. I stand my ground, trying to keep calm, but knowing if I get bit I’ll either be dead or turn into something like him.
His hands grab at me. I manage to grab his right hand in my left hand, but his left hand grabs my hair and yanks hard. I gasp in surprise and pain and then punch him hard in the belly. The punch doesn’t phase him. I try to pull away from him and feel my hair ripped from head. I cry out in pain and Dan lunges at me again, trying to pull me toward him for that fatal embrace.
I fall backwards to the ground and pull Dan toward me, and then use my legs to launch him up and over my body. I then bring my legs back and do a quick flip so I’m back on my feet. I quickly turn around and see him getting up from the ground. I touch my head where it aches and I don’t feel as much hair.
“Bitch, you’re going down,” I mutter.
I run toward Dan, who comes at me with arms flailing. I duck under his arms and sweep kick him, which causes me to fall flat on his face. I quickly pivot and him to ground with my knee on the middle of his back. He tries to push up, but my weight keeps him down.
“I’m sorry partner for what I’m about to do,” I say.
I chop my hand on the back of his neck, once, twice, and then three times, until I hear the crack of his vertebrae. Dan suddenly stops moving, except for his head. I’ve paralyzed him and now I can take him to the hospital.
I get up off of Dan and wearily walk over to the ambulance. I pull out the stretcher and wheel it toward him.
“I hated paralyzing you, but it was that or kill you,” I pant. “We got to figure out what’s going on and Jenny and the man you bit are dead, so I guess you’re it. And I hope if there’s a cure, you’ll forgive me, but it was either me or you, partner.”
“Hunnnggrrrry,” Dan moans.
I flip him around and get him on the stretcher and restrain him just in case. He can still bite and the last thing I want is to become like him. I wheel him back to the ambulance and up the ramp and then I haul myself into the driver side door. For a moment, I debate getting Jenny and the man and putting them in the ambulance, but they’re both dead now.
“Ambulance 2901 to dispatch. I need to you send out a biohazard team to the intersection of Watley and Fourth. Over,” I say into the com.
“Ambulance 2901 get back here immediately. We need you and your partner on the ground,” The dispatcher tersely says.
“Coming in dispatch, but please make sure to call in a biohazard team. There are two dead infected people here and we need to contain this situation.”
“Understood. We’ll send a team out immediately Get back here, quick. There’s more hot spots happening. We may be experiencing a pandemic.”
“Excuse me. What did you say dispatch?” I ask incredulously.
“We may have a pandemic and we need you and your partner. Get back here ASAP!”
“Will do, over.” I say.
I put the ambulance into drive and then navigate around the other vehicles. I hope this isn’t the beginning of a pandemic, but if it is I’ll do my part to help contain it.
