30 Days of Undead Summer

#TijuanaTuesday

The rescue center discussed below is fictitious, although based off of real societies and no-kill shelters I have visited.

"Alex! You're needed in 3A," Lola yelled down the hall as she hurried into the bathroom to change out of her bloodstained scrubs.

Alex was crouching in front of a kennel containing a litter of vicious terrier puppies. He was attempting to get them to eat and failing miserably. Sighing, he stood, stretched, and replied, "Be there in five!" Then, he once again maneuvered the specially made, elongated syringe between the bars and grinned in relief when he felt one of the puppies grab hold and start drinking.

Somehow, he managed to feed all three puppies within the next five minutes. He wrote that information on the sheet pinned to their cage and hurried down the hallway to 3A.

Once, 3A had been a room for injured wildlife. Now, it was a room for diseased dogs, just like practically every other room in the building. Georgia Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation was known for being a no-kill shelter, so when what was being dubbed the "zombie" infection tore through the American dog population, owners who couldn't handle their pets but felt guilty about killing them just dumped them at their nearest center.

Even though it happened every day, Alex still jumped as he passed the first cage and a beefy pit bull threw himself against the bars with a snarl. Even after working with animals, specifically canines, for a decade, fear was still struck into Alex's heart by these...things.

Many scientists were working on the cure for the pooch-exclusive zombie virus, but they weren't making much headway. After so many registered civilian deaths, the mood toward dogs tended to be, "Shoot first and run before questions can be asked."

Alex himself had been bitten by a German shepherd mix he was caring for a few days ago and had the stitches to prove it. Luckily, though, the virus didn't seem able to transfer between species, meaning the only doomed population was that of the dog.

Driving these dark thoughts from his mind so he could focus on whatever he had been sent here to do, Alex reached out and pulled a blanket fastened atop the pit bull's cage down so it covered the door. That tended to calm the zombie-dog, but it was often a hit-or-miss situation. This was one of the former times, luckily, and the snarling died away.

Alex crossed the room to tap the woman in charge of the space, Mandy, on the shoulder as she bent over a table. She jumped and whirled around with a pair of scissors brandished in one hand.

Alex took a step back, raising his hands defensively. "Woah, there. Lola said you needed my help?"

Mandy, looking relieved that it was just Alex, nodded. "One of the dogs is acting...weird. I wanted you to see."

"They're all acting weird. You're going to have to be more specific."

Mandy opened her mouth to attempt to explain further, then snapped it shut and shook her head. "No, you're going to have to see this for yourself to believe it." She beckoned for him to follow her and crossed over to a firmly closed closet.

Alex slowed. "Oh, hell no. What are you, crazy? I'm not going in there!" A Great Dane resided in that room, large enough to pin one down and tear them apart with little effort.

Ignoring him, Mandy reached forward and swung open the door. Alex cried out in warning -

The Great Dane merely cocked his head, huge tail thumping against the floor. He stood and padded over to Mandy's side, leaning into her like a big puppy as she scratched his back.

Alex's eyes widened. "He's - he's not trying to kill you!"

"Pet him," Mandy urged, smiling.

Still feeling like the behemoth of a creature was going to bite his arm off, Alex moved carefully forward and rested one hand on his huge head. The dog moved forward slightly, but to encourage petting rather than attack. Alex started scratching the animal with vigor, his face breaking into a huge smile.

He had forgotten how nice this was - petting a dog.

"He's cured," Alex whispered, glancing at Mandy.

"Do you know what this means?" she asked, her voice thick with excitement.

"Hope might not be lost after all," Alex replied, staring in wonder into the big brown eyes of the previous zombified Great Dane. He laughed.

"Hope might not be lost after all."