Postal Run
Author's note: This is another one centered on a psychopath. Enjoy!
When someone takes their job seriously, it could be seen as an admirable trait, as the person wants to be looked at as a devoted employee. Sometimes people could take it a little more seriously than one should, enough that some things about it can't be seen as a big deal, but still want to show any higher-ups that this person would go through great lengths to get the job done in spite of any issues accompanying it.
For Carl Schliff, any day was a good day for a mail run, no matter any issue surrounding it.
One day, several mailmen were called to deliver essential supplies to Fortune City. It had been reported that Fortune City, at least the plaza where the strips were, had undergone a zombie apocalypse, with so much of the undead crawling around not just the strips, but also the casinos, malls, and the Fortune City Arena.
Many of the postal workers declined to work this delivery. Zombies had become somewhat common up to that point. The Willamette Incident having had major media coverage five years prior, as well as well-known photojournalist Frank West writing a book covering the topic. Three years prior, three outbreaks had occurred within the state of Nevada and they weren't far from one another. An outbreak had occurred in Coyote Springs, as well as Still Creek, and finally, a major outbreak occurring in Las Vegas.
It was as if the state of Nevada went through some bad luck, even though those outbreaks happened three years prior.
"I'll do it." A man with a somewhat nasally-sounding voice said. Many of the mailmen turned around and saw a somewhat short man, standing at around the 5 foot 5 inches range, with glasses, red hair and a handlebar mustache. Though this man was only 32 years of age, he looked rather older than that. It would seem the postal service was a stressful job for him, or maybe his devotion went a little overboard that it caused him to age some more.
Right in front of the other postal workers was a man who looked about 45. He appeared to be the shift manager for the postal service.
"Oh, Carl, I'm not sure," the manager said. "If you want, I could have someone go with you."
"I heard you say that many of these packages are essential, did I not?" Carl said. "You should already know that neither rain nor sleet nor hail nor zombies are going to keep from my appointed rounds. Besides, the people in Fortune City need these items."
All of the other postal employees looked at him with mixed expression. Some looked as if he was crazy. Others seemed like they were impressed with this man's work ethic, even if this run was seemingly suicidal in and of itself.
Carl was well-known in the workplace for being devoted to his job. If his own personal motto about weather not keeping him from making his appointed rounds wasn't already an indication, there had been times when someone had called in sick and even if Carl was off that day, he would gladly fill in for that person to make the deliveries. He was just that devoted to his work.
"You just got to tell me where all this mail is going to," Carl said. "And if you're concerned about zombies, you know damn well that I am well-protected when my making my rounds."
The manager had nodded his head. "Well, Carl, a lot of this mail is going to Fortune City. They are addressed to the Fortune City Emergency Shelter. But I have been seeing on the news that the plaza is on lockdown."
"Nothing that I couldn't handle," Carl said. "I am a civil servant. We all are and anybody who is surviving the outbreak needs these items."
Once again, the fellow postal workers and their manager looked at each other and nodded their heads. They smirked in amazement about this major feat that Carl was ready to conquer. Here was a man who was ready to take a major risk in going through the undead to make the delivery of any essential items. With the survivors having gone through at least a couple of days since the start of the outbreak, some of the items may be necessary. Who knew if any of them could be infected and may likely need Zombrex?
"Alright, this round is yours," the manager said.
Later on, Carl took a mail truck to the Fortune City plaza. He was granted permission by the National Guard who was guarding the gate that when it opened, you were in Fortune Park. It appeared that outside of the plaza, there was a motorized mail cart that was used for any postal workers to deliver mail on any other day.
He drove into the area. The Fortune City plaza was swarming with the infected. Lucky for him, he was packing a Mossberg 500 Cruiser shotgun. He always came prepared. It was time to make the delivery.
Author's note: It had been a bit since I last updated this. This was one that I wanted to do lately. I know it was shorter than a lot of others, but really, there wasn't a lot to tell about this character.
I also plan to do one like this for my Dead Rising 1 anthology as I have an idea for Stephen Chapman. It might be really similar, but I want to cover something on him before he loses it.
I had thought of doing one like this for Dead Rising 3 survivors, as well as a spin-off sequel to "A Dead Getaway" centered on my OC, Ana Torres and her partnership with Brad Park in the ZDC, but I haven't thought of a plot for it. I am currently into my Saints Row story, and also my True Crime story, but I still have ideas for my Dead Rising stories.
