Albert woke up for a noise from the backyard. That was a regular alarm for him, not like an accident by the cats around the thrash. You don't have to worry about them any more, since the zombies they learned how to live in silence.
He knows his visitor or at least he can guess which half-rotten came for the medicine shipment.
Albert always ashamed himself when that word came into his mind, but that was a reflex, an ugly old reflex from the days when he worked at the experimental hospital for the zombie-disease. Everyone used such words for the patients to hide the fact, those creatures were human before.
You couldn't treat them if you remember that one of those can be your family member. And it was in case of Albert, his own dauther died at that hospital in a painful cruel way for any living being.
It was a slice chance that she can be treated, and you did not know until the last hour what will be the response of immune system to the drugs. Every case was totally different, so many case to analyze so many die to learn from it, but the AG closed the institution two years ago. That was the day when Albert started his underground life to help the infected people in any way he could, and he had the chance to smuggle the rest of the drugs for those who really needed.
And one of the those lucky patient stand at his back door with some fruit and vegetable. They always bring some goods exchange for the drugs. It seems the pride leaves the human mind after the ability to speech or move. He never meet any of them who could speech or run faster than a eighty years old granny. But they came every week and bring some real excellent food. An organic food these days of synthetic world was a real delicate. His own boss should not afford such a pleasure that he got from the half-rottens.
After five minutes his guest was gone, no one saw or heard anything, mostly because no one listen these days. Everybody frightened from the dark, the streets are empty even at noon.
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