[centre][img]http://i.imgur.com/RkVQaYh.jpg[/img] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xWe79avXLrc]{Suggested listening}[/url][/centre] I was already awake when Donny called. It wasn't the constant barrage of rain hitting my window or the screams of that ruined marriage next door that had me up at 12am. It was the shakes again. That's why I was shivering out on my balcony in my underwear, smoking a soggy cigarette and sipping on a flask of whiskey. Another hard evening in the bar left me with two hours of sleep and headache. One of the worse goddamned headaches I've had in weeks. The sound of my phone eventually became too much for my pounding head to handle and I . It was Donny. 'The riots, man! Haven't you seen the TV reports?' he asked. I almost choked on my whiskey. [b]'I don't watch TV'[/b] I replied. Donny said the boss wanted every unit out there, rounding up as many of these hooligans as possible. That included me, on my day off. Donny said I had 15 minutes before he'd pick me up. He's a good kid, really. That little Jewish head of his is full of ideas and hope. The city hasn't grated his soul to shreds just yet but he'd break eventually. He knew it, I knew it, the whole force knew it. He could try and fight it but by the time he's my age, he'll be like every other broken cop in Santa Somabra. Addicted to something, killing for someone or dead. I met Donny at the door of my apartment building. His car, dark and slick with rain, hummed quietly as he beckoned me forward. Donny was another plain-clothes officer, so he got away with slicking his hair back and wearing jeans while on duty. I wore the same clothes that I'd gotten drunk in the night before. Donny noticed, as his nose crinkled at the sight of me. "Jesus, Arman, bad night, huh?" he laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. I could only grunt. My head was still killing me. I could only look forward to a strong coffee in a few hours. I leaned my head against the windo wand tried to get a few moments of shut eye while Donny brought me up to date with what had been happening. "I dunno what they were, man, undead or sommin' but they kept coming. There was, like, hundreds of 'em! They were killin' people, smashin' up shops, jumpin' around, it was crazy, man, the station's been goin' crazy with calls!" he spoke in a low voice, considerate of all the alcohol in my bloodstream. "It was weird, though, they came out of nowhere and then just fuckin' disappeared! Silvio want's all officers out picking up any stragglers. He says it's not gangs or whatever, this is somethin' bigger". The way these youths talk today, I still can't believe it. [b]"Where're we headed?"[/b] I asked, offering little relief to my pounding headache. "Down Bakero Street, there's been a few of those zombie guys spotted. We've got back-up but Silvio want's everyone armed and ready. If they have guns, we shoot on sight. If not, we take 'em down to the station." Shoot on sight. It'd been a while since I was allowed to do that. - Bakero Street was typical for this parta' town. Large immigrant families, dark alleyways and a stabbing every other night. It looked like a twister had rolled through tonight, though. Store windows were smashed in, buildings were set on fire and bodies lay in corners. I'd thought the kid was exaggerating but this was worse than anything he'd said. "[b]Sweet Jesus...[/b]" was all we could say. The only bastion of civilisation was a single police car parked in the middle of the road. It's lights flashed lazily but still intensified the burning in my head. Something stirred in me at the point. Something was wrong. Donny took the lead of getting out of the car and jogging over to the scene. I stumbled after him, feeling pathetically old and drunk. What I saw next sobered me up instantly. The two cops who owned the car were laid out in the street, their hands tied together with their own hancuffs and a bullet in each of their heads. They lay in a pool of blood and rainwater, their blue uniforms soaked to the skin. They'd been there a few hours, obviously. Donny didn't take it too well. Have you ever seen a man change before your eyes? Well, I did. Donny's young, hopeful eyes glazed over and his hands bundled into fists. His face hardened as he punched the police car in anger. Young Donny grew up that evening. [b]"Where's our back-up? We're going to need to call in the boys for this...affair"[/b] I croaked, my legs suddenly feeling weak. I leaned onto the hood of the cops car for support. "This was our backup" growled Donny, kicking at a puddle in anger. I sighed heavily and grunted as I pulled myself off of the hood. It was starting to rain again and we were weren't gonna do anything just standing around. I dragged my feet back to Donny's car and called in the radio to give the bad news. Dispatch said they'd send someone round to pick up the bodies but it might be a few hours. In the meantime, we were going to have to wait. When I came back to Donny, his eyes were on the rooftops and his hands buried in his pockets. He leaned on the hood of the abandoned cop car. "Whadda' we do now?" he asked suddenly. I didn't have an answer but took my place beside him, my hands buried in my own pockets. I offered him some whiskey. He didn't even have it in him to answer.