“Right there,” he says to Annabelle as she approaches, pointing the empty seat behind me.
Annabelle quietly takes her seat, looking at me with enormous eyes.
“Sir,” I say wanting to vomit, but to get what I want—I guess I got to kiss a little tail. “May I sit next to her?”
He looks up from his clipboard with a smirk. He sees right through my phoniness. “If there’s any trouble from you—”
“There won’t be,” I say moving quickly to the seat behind.
I am still behind Lieutenant Lunatic, but at least I’m not sitting next to him.
“Where were you?” Annabelle whispers.
“Long line at the restroom. I’m here now,” I say.
The soldier tosses the clipboard onto the seat and smacks the driver on the shoulder, then takes his seat, in front of us.
“Next stop, Blue Falls,” the driver announces, starting the bus. “Settle in kiddies, we should be there in about two and a half hours.”
We are about twenty minutes into the bus ride to Blue Falls, and my wrist is killing me. It feels even worse than it did after the bite. I know that Annabelle can sense my discomfort—she keeps asking me if I’m okay. I can’t look at it with her right here and Lieutenant Lunatic right in front of us. The last time she asked, he turned around and gave me a death stare. I lied to them both telling them that I sometimes get a little car sick. They seem to have bought it. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up though.
“Hey, I’m going to use the restroom, okay,” I tell Annabelle.
She gives me a weak smile and a nod as I get up. I head to the back and see that there are about twenty other kids of all ages in the seats on my way to the restroom. There are a few toddlers, and some of the older kids are seated alone, while others are sitting close together. Many of them are chatting quietly with each other and a few are even playing the alphabet road sign game.
That game made me think of my little brother Sammy—we used to play that game all the time. Sometimes we’d go down to Andre Street and play it watching the license plates of all the cars passing by. I really miss that little pain in my butt. I can’t believe that he got the sickness and my parents too. It’s not like I had a lot—but everything in my whole life except me—is only a memory now.
I would have never imagined when I woke up this morning that this is where I end up right now. I’m still not sure about this whole bus to Blue Falls, but I don’t have any options right now but to stick it out and hope that I’m wrong.
THE SICKNESS
I duck into the tiny restroom. After locking the door behind me, I roll up my sleeve. My wrist is infected again. The scab is soaked in the fluids leaking from the wound. A ring of redness surrounding the wound stretches up my arm. It looks grotesque and the smell is disgusting. I touch the scab with my index finger and slightly press down. Greenish puss oozes out of it the on the other side of the soft scab. I begin to choke, coughing and gagging at the same time.
I shove my arm—up to the elbow—in the tiny sink and turn on the cold water and let it flow over the wound. The water stings a little at first, but then starts to feel soothing on my arm. I stand there for what feels like the longest time, savoring the relief that the water is giving me.
Whatever Haley gave me, helped for a while, but it looks like nothing can beat the sickness. I think about telling someone, but I push that thought out of my head. Lieutenant Lunatic runs this bus like we’re all prisoners. He’ll kill me for the safety of the others and he’ll like it—because he is a psycho. No, I can’t think that way. This is just a little setback—I’ll be fine. Now that I’m washing my wrist, it will get better again. It has to.
I worry that I’m taking too long and Lieutenant Lunatic will come bursting in like a SWAT team, so reluctantly, I turn off the water. As soon as the water stops, my wound begins to burn again. Although it looks a little better now that the scab is totally water logged. Gently, I pat my arm dry and pull my sleeve down, covering the bite. I feel so awful, as if all of my energy is being sucked right out of me. I need to lie down and try to sleep.
Making my way back toward my seat, I can already feel perspiration emerging from my flesh. I can’t tell anyone about my arm or Lieutenant Lunatic will take me out behind a bush and put a bullet in my skull. I squeeze past Annabelle and take a seat by the window.
“Oh boy, you’re really feeling carsick aren’t you?” Annabelle says with a frown.
“I’m okay. I think I’m just really tired. You know, today’s been…crazy. I think I’ll take a little nap,” I say pulling the hood of my sweatshirt over my head.
“Yeah, get some rest Monte and you’ll feel better. I’ll wake you when we get to Blue Falls,” she says.
Who knew that Annabelle Sanchez could be so sweet? I guess you normally needed to be in her inner circle to see that side of her. Now, due to lack of other people, she is actually worried about me. I feel so exhausted. Maybe I’ll feel better when I wake up. I can beat this. I close my eyes and lean up against the window and feel myself drifting off.
I don’t feel like I’ve slept long, when I’m jostled awake by an explosive sound. I feel different. I see Lieutenant Lunatic standing before me with a crazed look in his eyes. As my eyes adjust to the bright light beaming in from the windows, I see that he just shot the bus driver.
Before I have time to react, Annabelle pulls me down to the floorboard below our seats. Looking out the window on the other side of the bus, I can see that the bus is pulled over. It looks like trees outside—we’re on the interstate.
Lieutenant Lunatic turns to the other side of the aisle and two more gunshots blast. What’s he doing? I look at Annabelle with wild eyes. She only shakes her head as tears fall from her cheeks onto the floorboard. Two more shots ring out. He’s killing kids. Has he lost his mind?
Lieutenant Lunatic makes his way down the aisle of the bus blasting kids away. I don’t know what to do. Someone has to stop him, but we’re all kids and he has a gun.
“You can’t do this to us—we’re not sick!” A boy in the back shouts out, and then another gunshot sounds. I can hear the kids crying out, screaming and begging for their lives from the seats as he makes his way down the aisle.
“There is no way to tell if any of you are infected. No guarantee that you won’t spread this disease to the general population. I can’t take that risk,” Lieutenant Lunatic says fanatically, firing another shot.
Even with all that is happening, I feel unbelievably tired, as though I could drop dead from exhaustion alone. A fiery pain surging up my arm to my shoulder sends shock waves through my body. Gripping my shoulder as if it’s on fire, I pull down the collar of my hoodie checking for any markings. But now the pain begins to subside, almost retreating down my arm. What’s happening to me? Annabelle says something to me but I can’t recognize the words she’s using. Her sounds are all messed up, distorted. I hear more blasts from the gun, but they sound more like an echo now. Annabelle grabs me, but I can’t even get her face into focus. I see her back away, and what only looks like a shadow of her is going for the bus exit. It looks like she is pounding on the glass, the door must be locked. I crawl one, maybe two steps, when I feel a new sensation trembling through my body. I have the sickness—I’m going to be a monster soon. I can feel it. I need to get out of here before I hurt someone. Then the shooting pain returns. This time, every muscle in my body feels like they’ve tensed up in pain, as the agony seems to pulse through my entire body. I feel weak, impossible weak. I want to call out to Annabelle to get out, but the pain is severe, as if the pain is pinching off my vocal chords. Then, as everything starts to go black, I see Annabelle’s shadowy figure pull the lever, opening the door and leaping from the bus. They everything goes black.
I haven’t quite woken up yet, but somehow I feel conscious. My eyes are still closed and the pain has left me entirely. I can’t open my eyes! I can hear sounds, like muffled voices—but I can’t understand what they’r
e saying. It seems as if the voices are fading away. I might be going into a deeper sleep. A…deep…sleep.
My eyes burst open like an opening umbrella. Bright light floods my eyeballs causing me irritation, but not pain. I sit up slowly, confused and disoriented. As I rise to my feet, light is all around me, except for the occasional shadow fluttering past. There is a smell. I inhale deeply. A wonderful aroma. It smells like the most delicious thing I will ever taste. I am so hungry. Following my nose, something ahead comes into focus. It is the source of the delightful aroma. I look on in disgust for only a moment, but the hunger inside is triumphing in the battle of my fading subconscious. Lieutenant Lunatic is standing before me. The nourishing scent of his flesh is too much temptation. I leap toward him as we fall to the ground between the seats. My teeth sink deep into his throat tissue, as I taste the tangy blood flow across my tongue. I swallow a piece of vitamin-rich flesh, before diving in for another bite. As I slurp and chew on my meal, I can feel the last remaining nonessential brain functions shutting down. Now, I just have one thing left…on…my…mind. The hunger.
STILL HUNGRY?
Do you have a hunger to know more? Check out Endemic: Rise of the Plague to find out how Monte’s town became a menacing place destroyed by a plague that spread at a breakneck pace. How did it really all begin? By accident? Or were there more sinister motivations behind the origin of the plague?
For more titles and upcoming releases by Jeannie Rae visit:
www.jeannierae.com
Facebook
Twitter
Amazon
Suzanne Robb
Dentists, Autopsies, and Nutritionists Oh My!
Ted Brock news anchor, gave a brilliant white smile as he stared into the camera. He had dark hair, a fake tan, and his left ear had a bandage. Heidi Dinkins sat to the left side, his co-host. Blonde, beautiful, with a real tan, and busty.
“Good evening and welcome too this Friday the twelfth edition of KSPAZ news. Originally we were going to be talking about the Zombie War, but I decided I really didn’t want to, so I have come up with something far better.”
Heidi cleared her throat. “Excuse me Ted, no one told me about a change of program. I have all my segments set up for the war coverage.” Ted just smiled.
“As I was saying, tonight we will not be recapping the highlights of the Zombie War as previously advertised. I mean really, what can be said about a war that lasted three days and fourteen hours? Then again when your enemy has no ability to pick up or use weapons, organize a defence, and has the attention span of an ADD kid on crack, the fact we won really comes as no surprise.” Ted chuckled at his joke. Heidi did not.
“That’s right, Ted. This war was not a challenge to our armed forces, but the mystery remains as to how the Zombie virus was released in the first place, thus making it a topic of significant interest.”
“Yes, Heidi, I am sure people are dying to hear what you think, but as I was saying, tonight is going to be different. The end of the Zombie War led us into completely new territory. Millions of Zombies were captured. None of them were willing to talk, no matter how badly they were tortured. This stymied our military for some time.”
“Actually Ted, the military knew they were unable to speak. They discovered very early on Zombies have no speech capacity.” Heidi smiled at the camera, holding tight to the papers in front of her.
“Again, Heidi, you can put that in your bit for another time. Right now is my story. I would like the viewers to look at some fairly graphic re-enactments I have created. If you have children in the room, please cover their innocent eyes.”
Ted reached under his desk and brought out some two by two foot poster boards. On them Zombie stick pictures were drawn being tortured by military stick figures. He sighed as if saddened by the creepy pictures and turned back to the camera.
“I apologize for the quality of these pieces, but our art department told me at the last minute they were too busy for my request, so I had to whip these up over the weekend. You can see the brutality was quite severe. The military denies it to this day, but what else can possible explain the horrible condition many of these Zombies were found in? Some of them looked as if they had just been dug out of the grave for Godsake. To make matters worse, it was discovered Zombies could not even talk.”
Ted stopped and pinched his nose. He tried to see if he could squeeze out a few tears for the added dramatic effect. This story might be his best shot to get the hell out of this town and hit the big time. He shook his head and sighed, annoyed no tears would come.
“Sorry, folks, I just get a little emotional when I think of all the damage done to these poor creatures.”
Heidi coughed. “I wouldn’t actually call them poor creatures as they did eat thousands of people and terrorized the general populace for some time.” The camera panned to Heidi.
Ted held a fake smile on his face. What the hell had gotten into Heidi tonight, she just would not keep her trap shut. What the hell was that about? She was just there so the network had a set of breasts on the payroll. He didn’t care about her degree from Stanford, probably made the place up.
She always pitched stories about the Zombie Virus, pieces on the Zombie aftermath, or who to hold accountable for the outbreak. Like people were really interested in that. He knew what the people wanted, and tonight he planned on giving it to them.
“Heidi, while that is another interesting perspective, it is not what tonight’s show is about. Tonight we are going to discuss the effects of the LDR movement. The Living Dead Reintegration is a daring, may I say even brave, endeavour being met with resistance at every turn. All this organization is trying to do is find a place for Zombies within our society.” Heidi yelled as she threw the papers in front of her.
“The LDR movement? Are you insane? The controversy surrounding LDR is horrific, rumours of live autopsies, germ warfare, accidental infections, and not to mention the number of people getting infected and or killed during the reintegration process.”
Ted ground his teeth so hard he actually felt a filling crack. What the hell had gotten into Heidi this week?
The only explanation, she had slept with the network head Jimmy Gillon. He probably told her she could speak. Fantastic, now he had to contend with a talking bimbo. Thank God he had the foresight to draw things out for her, he felt pictures made things easier to understand. Heidi already got more fan mail than he did, there was no way she would speak more.
“Heidi, obviously your sources are not as up to date as mine. I have data not only showing promise for LDR, but can ensure safe reintegration of the living dead back into our society.”
Ted reached under the desk again and brought out another poster board. This one had a Zombie stick figure helping another stick figure across the road. In another a Zombie stick figure gave candy to a much shorter stick figure.
“As you can see, Zombies can be contributing members of society. This is what tonight’s show will be about. I’m going to detail the process of how Zombies are reintegrated into society.”
Ted stood and walked over to a screen. He proudly pointed to it as the image of a Zombie in a suit appeared.
“The proof is in the pudding, my friends. Tonight you will watch the amazing footage I caught with the help of my camera man as we went to LDR headquarters and recorded the reintegration process step by step. Afterwards, if you’re not as convinced as I am that these Zombies are on the path of goodness, then nothing will sway you.”
The lights went down in the studio and on the big screen Ted could be seen holding a stack of papers in front of the LDR building. He talked, but no sound came out.
“Goddammit, where is the mic? You always hide it on me to make me look like an ass. Wait, there it is. Okay turn it on in a few minutes.”
Ted straightened his clothes, he wanted eyes on him and his impeccable sense of style. He tested his breath, then slicked back his hair to make sure everything was in place. Lastly, he picked his nose to make s
ure no boogers were visible. Last year, he had one hanging there for his entire interview with the CPA (Captain of the Poultry Association). People still handed him Kleenex boxes and laughed as they walked away.
“Hello, I’m Ted Brock, and tonight you will get an exclusive look at the arduous process a Zombie must go through in order to be accepted back into society. Then we will take a look at the various jobs they can do to help us. Follow me on this journey, my friends.”
The camera man followed Ted into the building. The interior had an eerie ambiance, and used to be a psychiatric hospital for the criminally insane. Someone had chipped off some of the letters leaving only “IT ALL INSANE.” The personnel walking around were all armed with guns, batons, and wore thick padding around their necks, arms, and legs.
John Simmons, the cameraman, spoke in a low voice. “Psst, Ted…don’t you think we should have some weapons, or gear?”
“Of course not, John. This is a perfectly safe place. Let’s go.”
“Ted, maybe you can deal with the smell of rotting corpses emanating from every corner. Maybe the fact everyone here is in protective gear from head to toe doesn’t make you the least bit suspicious. However it is making my ass twitch.” John kept switching from one foot to the other.
“John, calm down, they won’t let anything happen to us, I’m Ted Brock after all.”
Ted did in fact have a gun in his breast pocket in case something happened. He also knew he would have a head start over John because of the weight of the camera.
The two walked down the hallway, John filming everything. There were blood smears and spatterings everywhere. Moaning and groaning could be heard echoing through the hallways. They came to a door with Phase One written on it in with a Sharpie.
Darlings of Decay Page 80