Zachary Johnson (humorintragedy) wrote in immune_ic, @ 2012-12-09 13:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | # 2012 [12] december, zachary |
WHO: Zach and Lola
WHAT: Friendly conversation between strangers
WHERE: The Four Horsemen
WHEN: December 9th, 2019; Early Evening
RATING: Medium, maybe.
CHALLENGE: <3
The familiarity of the Horsemen was comforting. Zach had arrived here before his brain had even fully registered its destination; this was becoming a habit, one that he knew he should discontinue before it became something more. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave, not today. There were days that his job took a toil on him, made him wish for the simplicity of times long gone, this was one of those days. One of the looter’s had come into the infirmary, or more like was drug in by his buddy. The guy had been attacked, bitten pretty badly and was losing blood at a rate that had been nearly impossible to stop. That hadn’t been the hard part though, no, the hardest part of dealing with that patient was dealing with the med student who had been assisting him. The guy had frozen at the sight of all that blood and Zach later found out that he had been pre-med student and hadn’t done any hands on work before the outbreak hit. On days like this he felt like a baby-sitter, wished for an infirmary staff that had more hands on knowledge and wouldn’t freeze the fuck up on him in times of crisis. “But it is what it is,” he said to nobody in particular as he dropped his head into his hands as he stretched his legs out in front of him, lounging at one of the tables in the far corner of the bar. The bartender for the night had simply smiled at him upon his arrival and told him ‘his’ table was open. That comment had made him start humming the ‘Cheers’ theme song, after all he was fairly certain the Horsemen staff knew his name - probably more than his name - by now. Lifting his head up out of his hands, he began to fish around in one of his pockets, searching for the pack of cigarettes he knew was there. Once his fingers closed around the small container he pulled it out and knocked one out of the package, lighting it up as he scanned the faces of the other patrons at the Horsemen currently. He could just hear his mother’s words in the back of his mind as he puffed on the ‘cancer stick’ ‘You’re going to kill yourself with those.’ She had always nagged him, at the time he had hated it – now he wished it was her actual voice and not just a memory he was hearing. She was alive though, same with his dad, so he had things to be grateful for. “Better than me drinking myself to death,” he muttered, smirking to himself as he motioned to the bartender to go ahead and bring him another beer. “Or maybe they’ll collaborate to kill me.” Zach laughed quietly at the notion, knowing he must have had a long day if he was talking to himself like this. |