Free The Most Uncommon Cold I - Life in the Time of Zombies by Jeffrey Littorno Page B

the severed finger still lying on the hood of the Jeep. I picked it up slowly and slid the ring over the ragged flesh and bone at the bottom.  The finger dropped to the floor. I put the ring in my pocket and without looking at it any further, I spun around and walked quickly out of the garage.
     
    Chapter 6
     
        The smoky haze of something burning stung my eyes as I walked up the garage’s sloped entrance to the street.  I felt the tears flowing down my cheeks and told myself that it was also due to the burning.  I had no destination in mind as my feet began carrying me down the street.  In the past, the streets around the apartment seemed to be busy at every hour of the day or night.  Now as I stood there in the early evening, the silence was deafening. That may sound a bit melodramatic, but that is honestly how it felt.  It was as if the silence, the absence of the normal sounds of the city, was pushing in from all around me.  Suffocating me.  Drowning me.
         All at once, I heard somewhere in the distance the faint sound of a scream.  Then as if on cue, a car alarm began blaring.  After a few seconds, a police siren began whining a few blocks away and then faded as it travelled away. 
          With the sounds to guide me, I began shuffling ahead toward the promise of civilization.  It didn’t occur to me until later that I probably did not appear much different than the mindless things wandering around.  There were a few cars moving along the streets, which made me f eel a bit better .  As I got closer to the downtown area with its restaurants, theaters, and stores, the activity looked almost normal.  It was certainly slower than a typical day, but even the appearance of near normality made me happy.
         I am not sure what exactl y was going on with me.  It made no sense to be just walking around like I was.  It damn sure made no sense… Nothing made much sense after all the crazy things I had seen, but I should have been doing something besides walking around. Maybe I was in shock.  No, I was most certainly in shock.  The only thing that mattered was to keep moving, and that is what I did.     
         The Golden Dragon Chinese restaurant where Bonnie and I had enjoyed many terrific meals appeared before me and immediately became a sort of red pagoda lighthouse for me. My feet carried me forward.  As I got closer, the diners and workers inside the restaurant came into view. Unlike most other nights, there was not a line of waiting patrons snaking outside the door.
         Whether I was in a state of shock or just insane, I cannot say for certain, but I instantly felt better at the smell of the Chinese food. Somehow I managed to push away the idea that I had plunged a metal tube into my wife’s head a short time earlier.
         I pushed open the glass door and listened to the tinkle of the bell hanging on the inside handle. I felt the eyes of everyone inside the place jump my way as I entered. 
         “Mister Turnuh!”  A version of my name was called from behind the counter.
         The voice of Terry Wu, the restaurant ’s owner, shook me out of my trance.  I looked at the short thin young Asian man in a white apron standing near the cash register and automatically smiled.
         “Hi, Terry,” 
         “Where’s your beautiful wife?”  He asked.
         I thought about the question for a minute. The idea of describing the thing that looked like my wife now pinned by a tire tool to the hood of our car flashed into my head and brought a twisted smile to my face.  I wondered if hearing the description would change the perpetually cheerful expression on Terry’s face. The image should have wiped out any appetite I had, but it did not.  In fact, it seemed to have the opposite effect.  I felt famished.      
         I realized that Terry was still waiting for an answer, so I said, “Well, I guess she’s got that cold that’s