Planet of the Dead by Thomas S. Flowers

Author:Thomas S. Flowers [Flowers, Thomas S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Publisher: Shadow Work Publishing
Published: 2017-10-13T04:00:00+00:00

2

Twelve hours now and still they had not been called back to be seen. Taj was pacing between their two seats. His father, still slumped against the wall, laid out in his chair, sweating horribly. He'd regained consciousness only twice, and in those moments, he simply asked about the Shell gas station, in a distant sort of way, as if he had little to no recollection of what had happened. Taj would tell him Parmjit was minding the store and his father would nod and pass out again.

Parmjit, his father's favorite son.

Taj stopped his pacing. Glaring over the crowd of moaning and pus stinking sick, he wiped his forehead with his hand. With as many people that had been packed in here, and with no one taken to be seen, as far as he knew, the clinic waiting room had slowly turned into a sauna. The nurse at the station was sipping from a Styrofoam cup, apparently ignoring the phone ringing beside her. He couldn't quite tell from across the room but she seemed to have a sort of vacant expression in her eyes, the way soldiers look in war movies.

"To hell with this," he whispered hotly. He left his seat behind with his father and quickly marched to the front check in desk. The same guard who'd been there since Taj arrived rested against the double doors that led to the exam rooms and promised treatment.

"Excuse me," Taj cleared his throat as he spoke, struggling to sound civil after being packed in this horrible waiting room for twelve hours now.

The nurse didn't even register his presence. She sat and sipped her cup.

The guard was texting on his cell, without much apparent luck, cussing under his breath.

Taj leaned forward. "Excuse me," he said a little louder.

Finally, the nurse glanced at him.

As did the guard, but he quickly returned to his phone.

"Yes?" she asked.

"When will someone see my father? We've been here for over twelve hours now." Taj tried to lower his voice, not wanting any of the other waiting patients to overhear him and intrude on his inquiry with the nurse.

Blinking slowly, the nurse asked, "Seen?"

Taj frowned. "Yes, by a doctor. He has a nasty looking bite on his neck. Like I said, we've been here twelve hours, why hasn't my father been called back yet?"

The nurse looked up at him, stoic and cold. And then her expression softened and she started to giggle. Nothing warm or humorous, more like a crack spreading along the hull of a ship.

Was this woman really laughing at him?

Was she mocking him?

Why?

Was it because he was Indian? Because he asked what everyone in emergency waiting rooms asks? Because times moves slower here? Perhaps, but it wasn't just that time moved slow, nothing was moving, nothing was getting done. Why was this woman laughing, how dare she!

"Look, I don't think this is very--" Taj started to say.

The nurse waved him off. "Listen, you'll just have to be more patient."

"We have been very patient."

"I don't control when the doctor sees people, okay.

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