by David Bourne
Josh half-mumbled, “Yeah?”
“GET YOUR STUPID ASS OVER HERE! You were supposed to take over my shift ten minutes ago! I’ve something urgent to do, and the boss will be here in twenty minutes!” Tom yelled at the other end.
“Damn it, just give me five minutes,” Josh answered. His remaining swearwords were cut short, as Tom abruptly ended the call. He jumped out of bed, threw the phone on the couch, and put on his work shirt on the way to the bedroom door. Because he was in such a hurry, Josh hit a bedpost with his little toe, which in his drowsy state, felt like having it smashed with a red-hot meat tenderizer. The positive thing was it got his pulse going, and he was now wide-awake just shortly after getting up. On top of this, Josh tore a shoelace on his red Chucks as he ran out the front door of his apartment. Shit, this is really not my day. So he had to go back and put on the warm winter boots his dad had given him for his birthday. He made quite an impression: Green shorts, a green T-shirt, and fleece-lined brown hiking boots. I look like a stupid Christmas elf on summer vacation. Screw it. Later, I’ll be wearing a smock, and in the liquor store, hardly anyone ever notices me.
Josh left his apartment in a hurry. He jumped down the stairs and ran out of the complex. He crossed the street, turned the corner and could already see the red and white striped awning of the liquor store where he had been working for several years. Tom glared at Josh when he rushed into the store, late again as always.
“Pelletier! You stupid asshole! It’s always the same with you! I have got something to do, I extend my shift, and I get jack shit for it! You should be glad I even like you!”
Josh lowered his head and apologized, even though Tom didn’t believe his perfectly rehearsed gesture. Then Tom left shortly afterwards.
The rest of the morning passed without further incidents. Customers came and left , and Josh’s boss appeared about fifteen minutes after Tom had left. So Josh had arrived just in time to create the impression of a hard-working employee. When his boss was satisfied that business was thriving for the day, he left as quickly as he had appeared. There was quite a bit to do on this damned morning. As usual, on many weekends there was a lot going on at the nearby airport but that was to be expected, and Josh didn’t mind. However, then there would typically be one jerk—this one in a thousand—who would show up, and drive him up the friggin’ wall.
In today’s case, it was one of those snotty types in a pilot’s uniform. Another straight-up, munted whack job, Josh observed with disapproval. The man entered the store in a near-stagger, made his way directly to the shelves and grabbed two half-pints of whiskey. He immediately guzzled one on his way to the counter and put the other one in the inside pocket of his uniform jacket. The pride of Augusta Airline. I hope he crashes flat on his stupid ass today, rather than crashing a passenger plane, Josh thought.
“That’ll be twelve dollars total, sir,” he said. While paying, the inebriated pilot trembled so much that his change fell out of his wallet and all over the counter. He threw a crumpled-up ten-dollar bill on the counter and slurred: “Buddy, you can search for the rest.”
“Thank you so much, sir,” replied Josh with phony, exaggerated friendliness.
The drunkard ambled out of the store and growled, “Kiss my ass, dickhead.”
One of those mofos again! What a shitty day! At least I don’t have to continue working after this. Oh, wait, I do.
Due to his lack of planning, he had inadvertently scheduled the hours of his university internship on this very same day, so he would have to immediately switch gears for his next job. At least there, no one would contradict him or get on his nerves. Dead people don’t talk.
Like last semester, Josh had an internship in the Department of Pathology at Maine Medical Center. While the university expected him to gain experience with patients who were still breathing, no one had yet complained about him working with dead patients.
Josh preferred the work in the morgue to working in a hospital ward. Hey, those guys were dead as doornails. Ha-Ha! They were nothing more than sacks of meat, so to speak. With dead people, bodily fluids didn’t flow as thoroughly as in living ones, and Josh had his problems with blood. Really, a doctor who gets wobbly knees when he sees blood. One could say I chose the wrong job. However, in terms of choosing a career, he simply couldn’t fight his mother. She was an excellent trauma surgeon who not only helped Josh get into medical school, but also arranged his internship in the Department of Pathology with Doctor Stevenson. He liked Doctor Stevenson. The pathologist was in his mid-fifties, but you would have never guessed this. He had great in-depth knowledge and was always making funny remarks. What Josh liked most of all, though, was that in the morgue, he could do whatever he wanted. Doctor Stevenson seemed to trust him, and he noticed this because his mom’s name appeared to open many doors. “If you are Margaret’s son, then you have studied with one of the best,” the Doctor once told him.
Josh was pleased that Doctor Stevenson saw it this way, but unfortunately, it wasn’t the truth; he considered himself an average student at best. During his first semesters, he spent more time exploring new areas or dungeons in online video games than in reading medical textbooks. At least last year he really started cramming more. After his first visit to the morgue, he developed more interest in his studies and even completed additional internships.
Overall, he was happy that it was getting towards the end of the semester. Vacations would start soon, and he would only have to finish his last three weeks of required internship at Maine Medical Center. Compared to his morning, at least no one had gotten on his nerves so far. He simply enjoyed the peace and quiet.
Josh (4)
The morgue was located in the third basement level of the hospital. It was a large, green-tiled room, with three autopsy tables and many drawers. These metal compartments, stacked in several tiers, offered space for fifty corpses.
Josh was currently busy washing the corpse of an elderly lady. The cold light of the fluorescent tubes gave her a certain grace. Josh thought most dead people who had died in the hospital just looked like they were peacefully sleeping.
With a sponge in his hand and the unmistakable voice of AC/DC front man Brian Johnson in his ears, Josh performed a superb air guitar solo. He initially didn’t notice when the red light over the metal elevator door announced that some visitors were coming down to the morgue. When he became aware of this, he took one ear bud out of his right ear and listened. He could hear through the elevator shaft that something was being rolled into the elevator a few stories above him.
“Madame, next stop: The basement—or as I call it: Shaun’s Metal Mattress Paradise for everything that no longer crawls, flies or breathes.”
Oh man, it’s the Doctor—and it could have been so nice and quiet here.
The elevator started moving, and he got more nervous. Let’s see what will be on the table today, Josh thought.
The elevator creaked to a halt, and the double doors slowly opened sideways. Even before the doors were fully open, he heard a woman’s voice admonish him: “Joshua! Are you wearing street boots?”
What the hell? Josh immediately recognized her penetrating voice.
“Hi, mom...”
“Stop with the ‘mom’ and come here and make yourself useful.”
“Nice to see you, too, mother,” Josh teased her, before giving her a hug. “What do you have there, Doc?”
Doc Stevenson smiled. “A traffic accident. Male, Caucasian, at least three hundred pounds, and supposedly walked directly towards an on-coming car on Second Street. Severe craniocerebral injury, and the right foot is broken in several places. He died on the way to the hospital. Your mom was so nice to confirm the death. Help us push him, Josh, he is quite hefty.”
No wonder. The guy has more fat in his double chin than an adult bull elephant has in his ass! Josh walked towards the elevator. “Do we know his identity, Doc?”
“A certain Michael Galetti—someone who obviously liked his spaghetti.”
Josh reacted to the bad joke with a crooked smile.
“What did you do with his right shoe?”
“Good question. Looks like it did not arrive. Doesn’t matter, come over here and help me.” Josh and Doc Stevenson pulled the gurney backwards out of the elevator.
“If you don’t need me anymore, I’ll be upstairs,” said Josh’s mother. “Just before we came down here, I heard about another accident. Since 4:00 p.m., people here appear to have become suicidal. Happy hour doesn’t seem to agree with everyone. At least I will finish my shift soon and then can drive home.”
“Everything is fine. Thanks, Margaret,” Doc said.
While he said this, Josh’s mother had already pressed the button for the ground floor, and the doors closed silently. Margaret Pelletier had looked at both of them, and the corners of her mouth twitched slightly.
“Did she actually try to smile at us? I didn’t even know she was capable of that,” Josh whispered.
“Don’t be so mean to your mom. You know t she is only strict with you so nobody can accuse her of nepotism. Furthermore, she wants to motivate you this way. She means well.”
“Let’s hope so, Doc.” Josh waved his hand.
“Well, let’s get this guy on the table, and then you can start by undressing him. I need to go upstairs one more time. When I am back, we’ll both take a closer look at our little glutton.”
“Sure, Doc. I’ll just finish up with Mrs. Miller first.”
They lifted the heavy corpse with some effort from the gurney to the rightmost of the three metal autopsy tables. Not an easy job. If they dropped the corpse, they would probably have to ask others from upstairs for help. Luckily, they were spared this indignity, even though it wouldn’t have been the first time.
“He can just stay here and wait for us.” Doc Stevenson returned to the elevator and pressed a button. The elevator traveled down from the higher levels.
“I won’t be gone for more than half an hour. Will that be long enough to finish your work on the nice lady?”
“Sure Doc, no problem. I’ll be done here soon, and then I’m up for anything,” Josh replied.
“Fine, see you later.” The Doc entered the elevator, and it moved upwards. So I am once again alone with my date. Josh put his earphones back in.
“Stairway to Heaven,” how appropriate. Josh returned his attention to Mrs. Miller. The old lady had died yesterday after doctors tried to remove a brain tumor. She looks so peaceful.
When Josh reached for her right hand, he noticed Mrs. Miller had four birthmarks on it which formed a perfect square. As he took her hand to get a closer look, he noticed a movement to the right of him. He looked at the gurney with the fat newcomer. Nothing moved. Well, are you becoming paranoid now? He glanced over for a moment before he once more concentrated on his work.
Only the left arm, then I can look at the new guy. I’m curious what the car did to his bones. Josh dutifully finished his work on Mrs. Miller and carefully covered her with a sheet. Then he sauntered over to the other corpse.
Well fatty, let’s see how you are doing. He pinched the massive double chin vigorously. Suddenly, Josh shivered. How long has he supposed to have been dead? He feels unnaturally warm. Josh placed his left hand on the sternum of the corpse, leaned over and tried to grab the death certificate near his head. Josh attempted to reach the piece of paper attached to the corpse. At that moment, the dead man opened his eyes.
Josh yelled and stumbled away from the table to the floor.“HOLY SHIT!”
Petrified, he watched the corpse open his mouth. A drawn-out moan filled the room. Josh was paralyzed with fear and couldn’t move an inch. The now-undead man slowly raised his upper body and turned towards Josh. His dull eyes stared at him.
The undead man moved his legs and rolled sideways off the autopsy table. Josh heard a smacking sound when his naked feet touched the cold floor tiles. The man appeared to put too much weight on the foot broken in several places and slowly fell down. The state of shock that Josh was in seemed to fade slowly when he realized all this was really happening. He pushed himself backwards with his feet, but he was unable to rise. He managed to move a little bit backwards on the floor and at least increase the distance between himself and the dead man.
The man only grunted and raised his head. Once again, he stared in Josh’s eyes. With his fleshy arms, he pulled himself across the tiles towards Josh with amazing speed. In between, he snapped like a rabid dog and uttered guttural sounds. Josh felt panic again and kicked his legs faster, but found little traction on the tiles. He noticed he had bumped backwards into one of the autopsy tables. He reached up with his right hand, grasped the edge of the table and pulled. He actually managed to get up this way, but the undead man was also rising unsteadily. He stood again and placed his full, rather impressive weight, on his shattered foot. However, this time he managed to hold his balance. Josh first fled behind the table and then looked for a way out. Unfortunately, the undead man blocked the only path to the elevator. As if on cue, the red light on the elevator lit up. The Doc is coming back.
“DOC! HELP!” Josh yelled. It was clear, though, that nobody had heard him. Josh wondered how he could get past this mountain of flesh without getting within reach. The man might not be too nimble on his feet, but when Josh tried to run around the table, his arms shot out in Josh’s direction with unexpected speed. The elevator had almost arrived at the morgue..
Then Josh got his first really clear idea. The sheet!
He grabbed the sheet that covered Mrs. Miller and threw it over the head of the undead man. The man grunted, and his body wobbled around without control. He seemed to not understand why it had suddenly become dark.
The elevator finally arrived, and the doors opened. Josh decided this was his chance, and he ran towards the elevator. He was just passing the undead man, when a hand shot out from under the sheet and grabbed Josh’s lab coat above his hip. His lab coat and the skin below it were gripped like both were in a vise, as the man’s hand clenched with incredible force. Josh cried out in pain, and he started hitting the body of the undead man, though without making much of an impression.
To Doctor Stevenson, the situation looked somewhat different since he had not seen Josh’s previous struggle. As the elevator door opened, he saw his student—who was being held by a fat ghost and obviously could not free himself. The doctor didn’t understand, and his eyes widened with disbelief.
Josh used all of his force trying to tear himself free. In the meantime, Doctor Stevenson made up his mind and ran from the elevator. He grabbed the hand under the sheet, and at the same time pushed Josh away with his forearm. Somehow he managed to separate the two. Josh just wanted to get out of this monster’s reach as soon as possible and ran towards the elevator.
Doctor Stevenson still didn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation. “What the hell is going on here, Josh?”
Even before Josh could utter a warning, he saw the sheet slide downwards, and the undead man grabbed the Doc at his throat. A stifled yell from the Doc was the last thing Josh heard. The mouth of the undead man shot forward and tore half of the Doctor’s throat out. The Doc stared at Josh through glassy eyes, his mouth half open. Blood squirted from his throat and splashed on the tiles. His undead attacker pulled him down behind an autopsy table, and both of them disappeared from Josh’s field of view. Josh had reached the elevator and hammered randomly on the buttons for the different levels. The Doc’s foot still twitched behind the table. The door slid shut.
Ray (5)
The Boeing 737 was rather empty for a Sunday. There were only thirty passengers on board. While greeting the passengers boarding the plane, Ray noticed a little girl in a pink dress. Her blond hair was braided, and she flashed a big smile. Not only was flying such an adventure for her, it was also obvious that she was looking forward to the vacations. With her carefree attitude, the girl reminded him of Eve.
Ray checked the weather data and had the on-board computer cal
culate the optimal route to Washington, D. C. According to the weather forecast, strong showers were to be expected today. Due to the current winds, their flight time would be four hours—about thirty minutes longer than normal. Ray silently moaned. He wanted to get home.
He started the engines and taxied towards the runway. At the rear of the plane, he heard Mia’s shrill voice read the safety instructions. “Welcome to flight 303 of Augusta Airline... In case of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, oxygen masks will drop down from above your seat. Please pull...”
Ray had heard these instructions a thousand times. When the tower gave them the go-ahead, the Boeing raced across the runway at over 150 miles per hour and climbed into a long left turn toward its destination. Shortly after the plane had passed an altitude of 10,000 feet, it happened.
“Sir, no, sir, that is not allowed now, please sit down again. We are still in the start phase... SIR, I have to ask you...”
Suddenly, there was a rumbling sound in the main cabin.
What was going on? Probably a passenger with a weak bladder. Ray longed for a whiskey. He called Cathy on the intercom. “What’s with all that noise back there?”
“Some asshole barfed in the aisle. The guy seems to be in bad shape. I wonder who let him get on board—wait a moment, he refuses to sit down. I have to help Mia.”
Suddenly, Cathy was screaming. Ray unbuckled his seatbelt and looked at Nick. “You take over.” There were further screams, this time by other people. Ray opened the cockpit door and looked into the cabin. The scene he witnessed reached his brain via two channels: The visual signal showed Mia, who lay on the floor in a large puddle of vomit, as well as a very tall man in his mid-forties, who sat on her as he tore chunks of flesh from her neck. Blood spurted from Mia’s throat and created an abstract pattern on the wall of the cabin. The other passengers huddled in their seats, petrified, and staring at the unreal scene happening right in front of their eyes. The girl with the pink dress crawled onto her mother’s lap. The cognitive signal reaching Ray’s brain told him that he was probably dreaming and still sleeping off his intoxication in a hotel bed.