Friday 15:40 - Iain

Doctor Iain Hopkins and his receptionist Mina sat watching the scene outside the surgery via the CCTV monitor on the main desk. It was the only view they had since they'd covered up all the windows in the hope of going unnoticed by the monsters outside. Even though they couldn't see anything directly, they could hear the sounds of chaos outside. Screams and shouting, the occasional car engine, the thumping at the surgery doors...

Iain knew that they were hiding their heads in the sand; the creatures were clearly aware that there was life in the building. But at least they'd bought themselves some time by covering over the windows. The infected couldn't see them. More importantly, the few patients in the waiting area didn't have to see what was happening outside.

Normally, the surgery would be crowded. However one of Iain's colleagues had phoned in sick this morning, the other had simply failed to turn up. As a result, they'd had to cancel most of the day's appointments. At the time it had seemed like a really bad start to the day, but now he was grateful. It meant that there were fewer patients here to worry about.

Just three. A woman with her three-year-old daughter and an elderly man who kept coughing and spluttering. Both adults knew exactly what was going on, but mercifully the child was too young to understand that something was wrong. She was running around happily, playing with everything she could get her hands on. Normally, Mina would have gently calmed the girl down and then politely asked her mother to keep her under control. But today... well, there didn't seem much point. Let her enjoy herself.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

On the screen they could see many of the infected – Iain couldn't bring himself to call them 'zombies' – shambling around. Several of them were at the doors of the surgery where they'd spent the last half hour mindlessly and relentlessly pounding away.

Some uninfected people were also still out in the street, either hiding or trying to escape. Every so often, one would become trapped by a group of infected and be left with no way out. Teeth would bite into skin, fingers rend away the flesh around the newly opened wound. The poor victims would scream as they were ripped open and devoured.

For the first time since he had become a doctor, Iain wished he didn't know as much as he did. He knew how strong human jaws could be if used without restraint. Over the years, he'd had to deal with a few bites made during drunken brawls. They had been awful wounds, yet most of them had been the result of just a single bite. And even aggressive drunks usually had some natural, subconscious limiter on their actions.

The creatures outside showed no such restraint.

Iain also cursed the fact that he knew exactly what was happening to the victims' bodies. He could tell which veins and arteries were being pierced, which muscles ripped and torn. When the infected worked deeper into a body, he could identify the organs they were removing and devouring.

He understood the pain involved in the slow, agonising deaths he was witnessing.

There was a loud crash and one of the surgery doors rattled, its hinges almost broken away by the relentless pressure from the bodies outside.

Mina looked up at Iain. "I think it's time," she said.

Iain nodded. He went over to the emergency medication safe and opened it up. From within, he brought out several small pill packets, all covered with warnings.

He reckoned six pills each for the adults, two for the child. He'd discussed the plan with Mina and both adult patients earlier and they'd all agreed. The stuff was strong enough that, with those doses, they'd quickly slip away into a relaxed, peaceful death. Even if they were still alive when the infected broke in, they'd probably not feel anything.

Probably.

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