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GRACE ARNOLD HAD BEEN working at Café Orleans for going on six weeks, and she wasn’t sure if she was cut out for this job. She was on her feet more than she liked, the tips were awful, and people always complained that the coffee was too hot. Well, if they wanted a cold coffee, then why didn’t they order iced coffee? Sheesh.
She was showing a couple of tourists to the window table that overlooked the street when she saw a red Corvette careening straight for them. It didn’t look like it was going to stop, and she shoved the tourists out of the way as she dove for the ground.
Grace shielded her head with her arms just as the car plowed through the window in a crashing cacophony of shattering glass and splintering wood. The car came to a stop just at the table where she was getting ready to seat the two tourists. All around her, people screamed. Someone was standing near her, but Grace had a hard time making out what he was saying. All she heard was screaming and her head was pounding. The man gave her a hand and helped her up. Someone was tending to the two tourists she’d shoved out of the way.
Grace looked at the mess and the bloodied, unconscious man at the wheel of the car, “Oh my God, what was he thinking?”
The man helping her up replied, “Mais, I don’t think he knew what he was doing. It looks as if he is dead.”
Grace jumped back instinctively. She had never seen a dead man, much less been in close proximity to one. Grace watched in horror as the EMT took the vitals of the man who’d caused this disaster and shook his head. Grace stood there in complete shock and disbelief. She tried to shake off the EMT as her minor cuts were tended to.
Grace swore her feet had grown roots. She didn’t think she could move even if she wanted to. Her body was covered in glass and dust from head to toe. She tried to absorb the fact that she and the two tourists were almost run over by a car in the café.
She watched in dismay as the paramedics performed CPR on the man who’d caused this disaster. By the look on their face, it was a futile attempt. As one depressed on his chest, the other counted and waited for his turn to breathe into the man’s bloody mouth.
Grace felt something tickling her hands; she looked down to find blood coming from a cut on the back of her hand. She started to see spots in front of her eyes, and before she knew it, darkness took over. At the sight of her blood, Grace Arnold passed out cold.
***
FIRST RESPONDER TIMOTHY Hebert grew up in New Orleans and his grand-mere was a firm believer in voodoo. She was a superstitious old woman who told him the various things to look out for in the world.
When he went to check the pupils of the driver of the car, he stopped his partner, “Mais, we can’t help this one, non. Someone put a voodoo hex on him. He is one of the walking dead now. He is a zombie. See how his pupils are cloudy and blank. Someone practiced black magic on this one, oui.”
First Responder Chad Adams had no idea what his partner was talking about, but he agreed that the guy’s pupils were like nothing he had ever seen. “Dude, you buy into that voodoo shit? Mais, this guy isn’t the walking dead; he is just dead.”
Hebert shook his head, “Mais, I am telling you right now that this man is a zombie, the walking dead. I need to call my grand-mere and ask if she knows how to cure this man. There has to be an antidote of some kind.”
After letting the phone ring enough times for his grand-mere to answer the phone, he explained what happened. He informed his partner, “What we are about to do is completely unorthodox and I need to know if you will back me up with this before we leave.”
Chad looked at his partner, unsure of what he was about to ask, “Before we bring this man to the hospital, we need to stop by my grand-mere’s house. She will see if someone put a hex on him. If anyone can help him, it will be her.”
“I don’t know dude. This could land us into a lot of trouble.”
Shrugging is shoulders, he stated, “By all accounts, this guy is dead and everyone here will think we are taking him to the hospital. If we do take him to the hospital, I don’t think anyone there can save him. However, my grand-mere may be able to. If nothing else, she can confirm if my suspicions are right.”
“Is it at least on the way?”
“Mais oui. It won’t take us off course. We have to pass by her home on the way to the hospital.”
“All right then, let’s go see if your grand-mere will tell you that you are nuts before heading to the hospital. I sure hope you are right and this man doesn’t die on us before we get to the hospital.”
As they loaded him up into the ambulance, Hebert replied, “I will take full responsibility.”