Incident Report/Word 1

WORD COUNT: 3,779

jennifer.word@yahoo.com

INCIDENT REPORT

BY

JENNIFER WORD
Incident Report/Word 2

“There are zombies chasing me!” The lady screamed.

That’s how it all started. I’m not kidding. We had just

pulled into the Sierra Madre Station. The doors opened,

and the lady jumped in, howling her head off. She was all

sweaty and her face was pink. She kept heaving and trying

to catch her breath.

I remember looking around at the other passengers.

They all had the same look on their faces, which I imagine

is the exact same look I had on my face. As I looked at

each person around me, our eyes locked for a short moment,

and one guy even laughed and shook his head. When he

smiled he had dimples in his cheeks, and I remember

thinking he was actually pretty cute. Everyone had that

expression on their face. That, ‘Yeah, right,’ look.

Then suddenly there was a loud scream from out on the

platform, and the lady who was heaving let out a loud

‘squawk!’ Then she fainted dead away. Probably the shock

from all that running, then suddenly stopping. Her lungs

couldn’t get caught up, and her brain just said, ‘Okay,

that’s it, we’re done for a while.’

The scream came again, and I looked around at all the

faces in the car once more. Again, even without words, I

could read everyone’s thoughts, just from the looks on

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their faces, and their physical reactions. Everyone still

had that smile on their face (it had only been a few

seconds since the lady first came on board), only now the

smiles looked frozen, plastered on. No one moved.

People’s shoulders and torsos went rigid. Then slowly, the

smiles began to fade and fall away, being replaced by a new

expression of dawning horror and complete disbelief.

Everyone’s face seemed to be saying, ‘Wait, really?

Could it really be true?’ Then the wave began. That’s

really the only way I know how to describe what happened

next. It was like one of those waves people are always

starting in stadiums, only this one was a panic wave. It

started in the back of the car, furthest from me, and

worked its way up to where I also sat, frozen, unbelieving.

People began to stand up, some of them craning their

necks, trying to see out the Amtrak windows. Some looked

like they still didn’t believe, while others looked like

they believed fully with no doubt or reserve at all.

Somewhere out on the platform, the screaming continued. It

was shrill and high. It was another lady. In the car, the

first lady lay crumpled on the floor. No one went to help

her. Everyone ignored her and rushed to the windows to see

what the hell was going on.

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I still didn’t believe. And even if I had, I couldn’t

have made it to a window to see. Not then. In a matter of

about two seconds, there were too many people crammed up

against the windows for me to even hope to get a good look.

Instead I settled on watching the faces of the ones who

were watching. That’s when I started to believe.

One lady looking on put her hands to her mouth and

just started biting her fingers. It would have been

comical, except for the fact that I had to watch a slow,

steady trickle of yellow liquid appear on the floor at her

feet and begin to spread outward around her black boots. I

watched in disgust as the puddle slowly spread until it

reached the unconscious lady’s hair and tangle into it.

I’m sure I must have grimaced then.

“Holy Shit!” A black man yelled. “Holy fuckin’ shit!”

“Oh my God,” a teenage girl said. She began to cry,

but all I could think about was wondering why she wasn’t in

school at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“It’s eating her!” The girl said, her voice high and

warbly. “It, it’s eating her!”

Then everyone screamed as the loudspeaker dinged its

warning to stand back, because the doors were closing. The

‘pee lady’ stepped back too quickly, and tripped on the

unconscious lady. She fell backwards silently, hit her

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head on the floor with a loud, sick thud, and I watched as

a new puddle of liquid began to spread around her head.

This time it was red.

The subway began to move then. Everyone was still

standing. Several people fell into their seats. Others

frantically grabbed at the ropes above them, or the poles

next to them, for balance. I finally stood then. I don’t

know why, but everyone looked at me. I was the only one

moving at the moment. I didn’t want to be near the two

unconscious ladies anymore.

I made my way past everyone, towards the other end of

the car. As luck would have it, this was closest to the

‘dimple guy.’ I stopped in front of him. He only stared

at me.

“Do you mind if I sit down next to you?” I asked. I

felt completely stupid. The guy only nodded his consent.

No one spoke for what felt like forever. Then the

black guy spoke, making several people jump.

“Is she dead?” He asked.

“Which one?” A Chinese guy said.

“The one who’s bleeding,” the black guy answered,

sounding annoyed.

“How the hell should I know?” Chinese guy yelled back.

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“Check her pulse,” Mr. Dimple said. His voice was

soft and gentle, but it carried through the car. I felt

warm all over.

“You have to check her pulse,” Dimples said.

No one moved. Everyone just stared at Mr. Dimple.

After several seconds, he sighed heavily and stood up. I

watched him walk over to the bleeding lady. He gently

stooped down and placed two fingers at her neck. His back

was facing me, but I could see his fingers at her neck. I

was in love.

Mr. Dimples stood up and faced the black guy and the

Chinese guy. His eyes darted back and forth between them.

“She’s not dead. She has a pulse.”

Mr. Dimples walked back over to me and sat down. He

didn’t look at me. He didn’t see me smile at him, trying

to comfort him.

“What’s your name?” I asked, feeling extremely shy.

“Devon,” he answered, almost like it was a question.

“Are you a doctor?” I asked.

“No,” Devon smiled. “I saw that on TV,” he laughed.

“Oh,” and suddenly I was laughing too.

“This isn’t funny,” the black guy said, walking over.

“I can’t help it,” I laughed. Devon laughed harder.

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“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Black guy said.

His eyes were round and huge. They kept darting back and

forth between me and Devon. The two of us just cascaded

into more gales of uncontrollable, shaking hysterics.

Devon grabbed onto my shoulder and buried his face there.

Tears began to stream down my own face. My stomach was

beginning to hurt, and I was having trouble breathing.

“Jesus, you two are looney, you know that?” Black guy

said.

“What’s-your-name?” I managed to choke out.

The black guy only stared at me for several moments,

seeming not to comprehend my question. Then he seemed to

soften a bit.

“Eric,” he said. Then he shook his head and a smile

broke out on his face. A big, beautiful smile.

Eric turned to the Chinese man. He put his hand out

offering for him to shake it. The Chinese man looked

baffled.

“I’m Eric, my man,” Eric said. “What’s yours?”

“Mine?” Chinese said.

“Your name, bro,” Eric said.

“Oh. It’s Randall.”

Silence filled the car. It hung on the air like

thick, acrid smoke. Then Eric began to laugh, large tears

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suddenly squirting down his own cheeks. Devon had stopped

laughing, but his face remained buried in my shoulder. I

could feel his body still spasming.

“You’re name is Randall?” Eric said. His voice was

suddenly very high. He sounded like a woman, almost. The

teenage girl, who I had forgotten all about, suddenly

giggled.

“My name is Kate,” she said.

“I’m Maggie,” I answered her.

Devon pulled his face from out of my shoulder and

looked at me with an apology. I smiled at him. He smiled

back.

“What about the other lady?” Kate asked. She motioned

past the ‘pee lady,’ who was really now the ‘blood lady,’

to the original lady. The one who seemed to mark the start

of the whole mess.

Devon moved to get up, but I pulled on his arm. For

some reason, I didn’t want him to go back over there. He

looked at me questioning. I only shrugged.

“Sh-she passed out, right?” Kate said.

“It was shock,” Eric said. “Had to be. I mean, no

wonder.”

“Did you see?” Randall said. “Did you see what

happened on the platform?”

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Everyone nodded, except me. I was the only one who

hadn’t seen. A Latino guy spoke then. He had a thick

accent.

“She said it was zombies, man.”

“Nah,” Eric said. “Gotta be some other explanation.”

“Well, how else do you explain it, huh?” Latino

yelled. “That thing was eating a lady! Eating her!”

“There’s gotta be another explanation,” Eric yelled.

“Other than zombies. I mean, come on people. This is real

life. This is fucking L.A.”

“Well, what then?” Kate said. “Why would someone do

that……At an Amtrak station?”

“Jesus, lady, don’t you know nothing,” Latino said.

“This is how it starts. I knew it, I fucking knew it.” He

was now talking to himself.

“Knew what?” Eric said. “This is how what starts?”

“2012, dude,” Latino said.

There was a collective groan from everyone on the

train. Even Kate shook her head and released a small,

“Jesus,” under her breath.

“Hey, don’t laugh,” Latino said. “My cousin studied

this shit. He knows all about it. Whatever is supposed to

happen, is already under way. So this is it, huh? Gotta

be."
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“What’s your name, dude,” Randall said, easy enough.

He was smiling.

“Rafael,” Latino answered, sounding extremely

defensive.

“Okay, well, Rafael? Let’s just focus on the problem

at hand, hmm?” Randall looked at everyone then. “We

appear to have a slight problem on our hands.”

“A slight problem?” A man in a suit said.

He’d been sitting in the far corner with a briefcase

and a newspaper the entire time. I hadn’t given him much

notice. No one had. He stood up then and addressed

everyone. His eyes were narrowed down into slits. He had

salt-and-pepper hair. He seemed shrewd and sharp. I could

immediately picture him in a huge meeting, where everyone

was listening to whatever he might be saying in complete

and utter rapture.

“That guy could sell shit on a stick, I bet,” I said

to Devon, who snorted his approval.

“My name is Mr. Betterman,” (I kid you not, that was

his name), he said. “And saying that we have a slight

problem? Well, I’d say that’s a slight understatement.”

“Way to keep everyone calm, Mister,” Randall said. He

sounded hurt.
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“Well, while you all were so concerned with the lady

who hit her head, I was a bit more interested in the woman

who came on board screaming that there are zombies

outside,” Mr. Betterman said. “Point in fact, we all

witnessed what appeared to indeed be a zombie, feasting on

a waiting passenger.”

“Look, like I said,” Eric said, “There’s gotta be

another explanation for all this.”

“Like what?” Rafael said.

“Let’s hear it,” Randall overlapped.

“Occam’s Razor,” Mr. Betterman said. “The simplest

explanation is usually the correct one.”

“Oh, and zombies are simple?” Randall said.

“A woman ran on board screaming there were zombies.

Then she fainted. Then we all witnessed a carnivorous

human devouring another living human being,” Mr. Betterman

said. “Who wants to come up with another explanation using

random information not already related to the topic, hmm?”

“Huh?” Randall said. No one else spoke. More silence.

“Okay then,” Mr. Betterman said. “Because while

everyone else was busy playing the name game, I was busy

playing the save-my-ass game. I was busy asking myself,

‘why was this woman running from a zombie?’ What events

unfolded in her life, prior to her entering our subway car,

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that allowed her to reach the conclusion that a zombie was

chasing her?”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Rafael frowned.

I put my hand on Devon’s arm then and squeezed. For

some reason my heart began to beat a little faster.

“No one bothered looking at this woman, did they?” Mr.

Betterman said.

I looked at Mr. Betterman and for a moment our eyes

locked. He was grimacing. He shook his head, and I felt

like he was my father, reprimanding me. Although he’d said

nothing, I could read his thoughts. Or felt as though I

could, anyhow.

“She passed out, from the shock,” I said.

“No, she did not,” Mr. Betterman said.

He reached down, gingerly and used his newspaper to

push the woman’s skirt up a few inches, revealing her knees.

“Hey, don’t be a pervert,” Randall said.

“Shut up,” Rafael said, walking over. He looked very

interested.

On her leg, just above the woman’s left knee, the

milky white skin broke and gave way to mangled flesh.

Rafael stared at it intensely, his face full of

fascination. Mr. Betterman looked up at Rafael, nodding.

Rafael shook his head.

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“She’s been bitten,” Mr. Betterman said. “She’s

infected.”

“Wait, what?” Kate said.

“Hey, you don’t know that,” Eric said. “This ain’t

Dawn of the Dead, you know?”

The train was beginning to slow down again. We were

coming up to the next stop. We’d reached Alameda. The

loudspeakers began their dinging again. Everyone groaned.

“We have to tell the driver,” I said. “That woman

needs to go to a hospital.”

“She’s infected!” Rafael said. “We have to kill her!”

“What?” Kate began to cry in her seat.

“Well, fuck you all,” Randall said. “This is my stop.”

“Wait, you’re getting off?” Eric said. “What if

there’s more of them outside?”

“There are no such things as zombies,” Randall yelled.

“You said so yourself.”

“No I didn’t,” Eric argued.

“You said there had to be another explanation,”

Randall said.

“Well, some crazy shit is going on,” Eric yelled.

“I’m not saying it’s zombies, I’m not saying it ain’t.

Either way, you sure you wanna get off this train?”
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Everyone stared at Randall, waiting. Randall

swallowed, hard. He looked around at everyone, thinking.

Finally he spoke, just as the train came to a complete stop.

“I-I don’t know what the hell is going on. But I know

I can’t stay on this fucking train all God damned day, now

can I? And not with her!” Randall pointed to the bitten

lady. “I’m sorry. I wish you all the best of luck, but I’m

getting off.”

The doors opened. Everyone rushed over to look. A

woman got on, took one look at the two women lying

unconscious on the floor, and quickly got off again.

Randall peered out at the platform for a few more seconds.

Then he turned and smiled at everyone, shrugging.

“Good luck,” he said. Then he walked off the train.

“We need to tell the driver there’s an injured

passenger,” I said.

“Maggie’s right,” Devon said. He took my hand and

squeezed it. “Pull the cord.”

Eric pulled the emergency cord. We all knew this

meant the train would not be moving on again. We were

stuck. An alarm began to buzz, low. Still it was annoying.

“Ungh.” The pee lady was stirring. Perfect timing.

She sat up, slowly, holding the back of her head in her

hands.
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“What…what happened?”

“You fell. Hit your head,” Eric said.

He helped her to her feet, where she swayed. Eric

walked her over to an empty seat, on the other side of the

car, across from Mr. Betterman. The woman pulled her hands

away and stared at the blood.

“Oh my God,” she said.

“Hey,” Rafael said, walking over to Mr. Betterman.

“You sure you wanna stay over here, so close to the

infected lady?”

“Who’s infected?” Pee lady said, sounding offended.

“Sorry ma’am, not you,” Rafael said. “Her.” He

pointed.

“What’s she infected with?” Pee lady said, sounding

woozy. No one answered.

Just then the driver appeared inside the car. He took

one look at the woman on the floor and pulled his walkie

talkie out from his back pocket.

“Central, this is 1080 at station 4D. We need medical,

over. What happened?”

The driver looked around at everyone. No one said

anything. He looked at the pee woman, who had blood on her

hands.

“Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?”

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Pee woman shook her head. I wondered if hitting her

head had given her amnesia. Then I wondered what the hell

we were all going to tell him. I decided the simple truth

was best. That and no one else had bothered to speak up. I

cleared my throat, then explained everything the best I

could. When I was done, the driver only stared at me.

Then he looked around at everyone else. Then back at me.

“Did you hit your head, too?” The driver asked me. I

shook my head.

“It’s true,” Rafael said, nodding. I smiled at him.

Devon was still holding my hand. It was so warm.

“Okay,” the driver said. “Well, I’m going to need

everyone to fill out an incident report.”

“Are you serious?” Eric said. “An incident report?”

“All incidents that take place on the subway have to

be documented,” the driver said. “Especially ones that

involve injuries. I need everyone here to fill out a

report that clearly states that this woman was not injured

on this subway car. For liability reasons.”

“Wait, there’s zombies out there, and you’re worried

about Amtrak getting sued?” Eric said.

“Hey, I don’t know a God damned thing about any God

damn zombies, all right?” The driver said.

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“There was an attack at the last station,” Kate said.

“Just call them up. All hell was breaking loose when we

left there, right guys?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Rafael said. “It was only the

one lady. And she got ate, so…”

“But, someone must have seen her there,” Kate said.

“Other people will have happened upon her body by now.”

“Look, I don’t know nothing about any damn body, or

any damn zombies at the freakin’ Sierra Madre stop, okay?”

The driver said. “What I do know, is that I have a

schedule to keep. I need to get this train moving again.

To do that, you all need to simply fill out an incident

report, and we can all be on our way.”

Everyone looked around at one another. Ten seconds

later, a paramedic team came on board and loaded the zombie

lady onto a stretcher.

“Do you need medical?” The driver asked the pee lady.

She shook her head. The driver nodded.

“Just make sure you put that in your report. I offered

you medical and you refused.”

The driver went with the paramedics as they exited the

train. Once again, silence filled the car. I turned and

looked at Devon, worried. Devon only smiled, those dimples

appearing, making my heart melt.

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“Do you remember anything?” Eric asked the pee lady.

The pee lady only shook her head. Her face looked

fearful, however. I wondered if she really did remember,

and just didn’t want to say. Mr. Betterman only shook his

head. He sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over

his chest.

A few minutes later, the driver reappeared with a

stack of papers and some pencils. He handed them out to

everyone.

“Okay, just fill these out for me, please. Make sure

you mention that the lady was already hurt before she got

on the train, okay?”

Everyone filled out their incident report. Then we

handed them back to the driver. Once he’d collected them

all, he left. Within two minutes we were moving again.

“What do you think is going to happen next?” Rafael

said. No one answered. Mr. Betterman had gone back to

reading his newspaper.

At the next stop, Rafael got off. He waved to

everyone, told us all to ‘take care,’ then simply left. At

the stop after that, Mr. Betterman got off. He didn’t say

anything to anyone. Kate got off at Santa Ana. Pee woman

got off at Alamos. She also said nothing before leaving.

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Eric came over and sat down across from me and Devon

then. We were the only three left. New people came on and

filled the seats of the others who exited. They had no

idea. Eric smiled.

“Helluva day, huh?” Eric shook his head. “My stop is

the next one.”

We rode in silence after that. When the train stopped

again, Eric stood up, still smiling. He paused before

getting off though, looking back at me and Devon.

“Still don’t believe in zombies, you know?” Eric shook

his head and got off.

As the train began to move again, I looked at Devon.

We’d been holding hands the entire time.

“Which stop is yours?” I asked.

“Whichever one you’re getting off at,” Devon said.

“I’m supposed to have lunch with my friend,” I said,

feeling shy.

Devon only looked at me, his eyebrows raised, his

smile bringing up those beautiful dimples again.

“So, have lunch with your friend,” he said.

“Okay,” I said. “I will.”

We rode on in silence for several minutes,

intermittently looking at each other, smiling, then looking

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away. Eric was right. It was a helluva day. Suddenly I

frowned.

“What did you say on your incident report?” I asked

then.

“You mean, did I put down that I saw a zombie chomping

on a lady on the Sierra Madre platform? And did I put that

another lady came on board who appeared to have been bitten

by the same zombie?” Devon said.

I nodded my head, feeling stupid. Devon only smiled

and squeezed my hand more tightly. My heart burst with joy.

“On my incident report, I wrote I didn’t see or hear

anything,” Devon said. “I was too busy checking out a cute

brunette.”

“You did not write that,” I said, laughing.

“I did,” Devon said, laughing back. “Why? What did

you write?”

I only looked at Devon and smiled. It was far too

early in the relationship to do so, but I didn’t care. I

leaned over and lightly brushed my lips against his. I

never did get around to telling him what I wrote on my

incident report.