Wednesday, May 11, 2011

finishing the interview with Glen

We had to put him down.”

“You what?” Chris was amazed that the description used to terminate a human was as easily exchangeable as that used with a cancer-inflicted dog. He was silently writing down point-form notes.

“We had to take him in the back and shoot it.” Glen said, lowering his voice and talking out the side of his mouth so the walls couldn’t hear.

Chris wanted to leave this interview, but knew he was close to being done. “Is Doctor Stevensen a snitch for you?” He regretted the word as soon as it left his lips. He waited for Glen to retaliate.

“In a sense. He used his own discretion as to who he thought needed to be visited. But like I said, we stopped taking care of that a long time ago.”

“Yes, tell me: why did that leave the jurisdiction of the police department?”

“We had a whole unit dedicated towards the infection-- Voluntary obviously—But, once we went through three groups of twelve men, and Jerrid and Greg said they could handle it with their own volunteers, the sheriff decided that it would be best if the police department stuck to old-fashioned house calls.”

“Who was in the voluntary group that helped Jerrid and Gregory?”

“Mostly people that had lost loved ones, and some of the people that worked in the police department too, but then they were told they would lose their jobs if they continued.”

“Did you know anyone who was in that voluntary group; that was defeated, I mean.” Chris gave Glen a sympathetic look. He thought it might help to fish some more information out of him.

Glen studied Chris’ face before finding the ability to continue in Katrina’s.

“My captain.”

“Tell me.” Chris probed.

“He was in the first group that raided the old hotel on Second street. He survived. The second raid on the hotel was not so lucky.”

“This is the hotel you were going to stay at.” Katrina offered.

Chris looked at her, with nothing to say. A feeling of happiness towards Mama’s hospitality filled him with warmth.

“You were thinking of staying there?” Glen asked.

“Yes,”

“Oh, well I don’t think it’s even open anymore.” Glen stared at the paper he had in front of him briefly. “Where are you staying?” He probed.

“He’s staying with Mama and I.” Katrina said proudly.

“Oh, I see. Well.”

Chris was afraid Glen might have been turned off from the interview now, so he continued to push: “Did he tell you anything about the first raid?”

“Yes,”

“What happened?”

“They found out there were at least two rooms in the hotel that were being used as feeding grounds. People would come into the hotel, but wouldn’t check out—if you know what I mean. Soon the numbers of infected started to grow and the hotel staff started to notice a decline in personal checkouts, and a few of the maids weren’t clocking-out or showing up. That’s when the Hotel management called the police and a raid was set up for the next day. They closed the hotel, which made no difference to the infected, except making them more hungry.”

“What happened when the group went in?”

“They were too concerned about saving civilians.”

“Well that’s important. Isn’t it?”

“Not in a situation like that; no one’s going to survive a room full of the infected anyways. If they don’t become zombie food first, then they’ll be turned.

Chris made a circle with his pen, signaling Glen to continue.

“So, they went into the room, were taking to long to kill the infected. They didn’t know there was whole other room full of them, and they snuck up on the police raid, killing three of the officers and infecting a few more before they were finally terminated.”

“So did your Captain have to kill the infected police officers?”

“I honestly don’t know if they were killed by the infected or by the raid team. Sometimes, when the infected get hungry, they won’t just turn a victim and stop; most of the time they are eaten. Only the people that escape usually make it at all.”

“I thought that the infected didn’t eat each other.”

“If they get ‘em before they’re turned then it’s fine. It’s almost as if eating a steak before the meat goes bad: The cow has been shot, but needs to be diced up before the meat spoils. Kinda like that anyways.

Chris cringed at the visual he got, “What happened on the second raid?”

Katrina stood up and announced she was going outside for a cigarette. She had heard about the raids over and over again. She didn’t need to hear it a thousand and one times.

Both men watched her walk out the open door and go a few steps to the left before lighting up.

“She smokes when she gets stressed,” Glen shook his head. “Poor girl.”

Chris wanted to say that he already knew, and that Katrina wasn’t a ‘poor girl’, or someone that needed to be taken care of at all. He refrained in order to get on with the interview. “You were saying?”

“Right, the second raid. It was a few months after the first; they had already changed out the carpets and re-done the rooms. But this time they had gotten into an old storage room in the basement. No one knew they were there for days, because no one went down there,”

“How did they find out then?”

“Some persistent bitch—‘scuse my language—was adamant that her jacket was down there; one that she left months before-hand. Her and an employee went down to look and he got attacked as soon as he opened the door. She went running back upstairs, without a thought in the world for the employee. She was screaming bloody murder quite literally.

A raid was dispatched later that day.”

“Seems like that raid would have been easier to clear up than the other one. How come everyone died in that one?”

“Because of a hotel maid.” Glen paused dramatically and Chris stared at him, waiting.

“She was still in the building when the raid was going on—even though the hotel was required, and thought to be-- fully evacuated. She was walking around, looking for people. She walked by one of the open doors to the basement and heard a bunch of shots being fired. When she went down the stairs she saw, what she said was the officers being attacked. She claimed to have not seen anyone living, so she locked the door to the basement and came to the police department. That’s when she was informed that every officer down there was still living and was in contact with the department just before the door was locked on them. She was charged with at least four counts of murder.”

“I assume that the door only locked from one side and that’s why the infected didn’t get into the rest of the hotel?”

“Exactly.” Glen smiled at the air and Chris knew that Katrina must be back inside.

“I guess that’s all for now,” Chris said, standing up. “We can continue this another day if we need to.”

“I think I’ve told you pretty much everything that you would want to know.”

“Ok well thank you,” Chris extended his hand to Glen.

Glen gripped it as tightly as he could and shook. “So, when do I get that ice cream?”