by Jack Wallen
And I was still unsure what to do. I was hoping some divine prophesy would fall into my lap, giving me a holy answer that I couldn’t refuse. I should know better. I would get no sign from God. Any decision made would be based on fact and instinct.
My guts reminded me I had made a deal with Bethany, and I should follow through. I had to hope she would do the same and follow through if I succumbed to that final transformation.
And there, without provocation, Bethany turned back to me and gave me a smile and a reassuring nod. There was my sign and my decision. I would get on the train with the girls, and we would ride to freedom. I would take the rest of my existence one step at a time.
“Oh no… No! Shit! God…fuck…no!”
“What’s happening? What’s wrong with Jacob?” Sally questioned angrily.
“Sally, you’re going to have to trust me, okay?”
Silence.
“Sally? Okay?”
“Sure, okay…but what…?”
“Don’t ask questions. Just come here and help me hold Jacob down.”
“Why?”
Whatever was coursing through my veins was on fire. “Bethany…it burns…Jesus…Ahhh!”
“Susan, get the medicine out of my bag. You know what it looks like?”
“Yeah.”
“Hurry. Jacob, it’s going to be okay. I’m here, just hold on.”
I wanted to believe her, but this time something was telling me she was very wrong.
“Here it is.”
“Okay, pull out the needle and the bottle. You’ve seen people do this before. Stick the needle in the rubber stopper and pull the plunger until the tube is half full.”
“Bethany, I can’t hold him much longer.”
“You have to, Sally.”
I could feel that what Bethany was doing was in vain. She had to follow through with her promise. “God…shoot me! Do it, Bethany!”
“Here.”
“There, Jacob. That’ll get you through it.”
“Beth…shoot me…please. The pain is…too…”
Chapter 29: A lost mind
I woke up on the train. Everyone was asleep. I didn’t want to wake them. Something inside of me wasn’t right. This time the change had a real, lasting effect. I felt…I don’t know…restless, like I wasn’t right in my own skin, agitated, angry, hungry…too many things. But above all, I felt dangerous. I was a danger to the girls, to everyone. Something inside of me was bad. I’d come unraveled, like the human core inside of me had come unglued and I needed to be stitched back together. I had become some version of Frankenstein’s monster. Yes. That was it. I was a monster. And yet, underneath all of the tingling rage, there were still bits and secrets lying in wait. Or were those secrets hiding in horror? What was left of me was growing afraid of what I was becoming.
What I was becoming…that was a joke. We all knew what I was becoming. It was no secret. I was becoming a zombie. I had little humanity left in me and little time left. I was scared and confused, tired and hungry. But the hunger I suffered went far deeper than a longing for sustenance. I hungered for peace. I longed for my brain to find silence within my skull.
I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be on this train with these women at this moment or any moment from here on out. I was a danger to them. Any moment I would fall victim to the final transformation, and who knew who would die first. I couldn’t take that chance, not with Bethany so close to getting out of this nightmare. She had what might be the key to a cure, and she had to survive. At all costs, Bethany had to survive.
My wife.
Why had she suddenly popped into my mind? Sadly, I didn’t want my last coherent thoughts to be of my dead wife. I’d rather leave this earth thinking of Bethany and the few moments we had shared.
I couldn’t stop thinking. Thoughts were buzzing in my head like a million microscopic bees. I wanted to open up my brain and let them fly away. Maybe one of those thought-bees would find purchase on another soul and stand as inspiration for something great.
That would be ideal. I could crack open my skull and let loose onto the world my very thoughts, hopes, dreams, desires…let them fly.
The sound of the train was hypnotic. It almost matched the oscillations in my ears. I know what those oscillations meant. I was getting close. I knew the next attack would see the very last of my humanity seep from my pores.
I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to die like this. What dignity was there in a slow descent into madness? None. The only dignity I could think of was taking my own life so that the women who had become so important to me did not have to bear witness to, or be responsible for, my death.
The only problem was that I had given my gun to Bethany, and I didn’t think she would be amenable to giving it back. I would be completely shocked if she did.
God, I had really hoped this wouldn’t happen.
What was really pathetic was that my first and most pressing thought was wondering what would become of my journal. Originally, I had hoped I would complete it and hand it over to some publisher who would rush the words to print, making me an overnight sensation―and a millionaire to boot; Sally was right after all. It looked like that wasn’t going to happen. And it seemed that what was bound between the covers of this notebook would wind up being the sum total of my life’s work. Funny…I was sure a work like this would finally land me that Pulitzer. If it was to be, it would be posthumously.
Oh, well. C’est la vie, as they say.
I could search the train for Bethany, steal the gun, find a closed-off train car, and blow open my brain pan. It could work. There was only one problem. I was too damned tired to move. Maybe I would just take a nap. Maybe I would wake up to find all of this had been nothing more than a horrible nightmare.
Yes, that sounded wonderful. I would awaken in a few hours to find everything back to normal. Back to my lonely life where the only love I knew was words. The only romantic moments I had would come from books and films. A life where I lived vicariously through the passages of brilliant minds and visionary cinematographers.
Hmmm… I decided I’d rather continue with what little life I had now. At least I now knew what life was really about. At least now I knew the only purpose for shutting yourself away from emotions was to avoid the fear of loss.
As much as it hurt to say it, I would rather die a zombie than live a zombie.
I didn’t even know if that made sense. I could feel myself falling ever deeper into some chasm. This could be a desperate need for sleep or the final kiss goodbye. I wasn’t sure which…but…
Chapter 30: Promises kept
Five days. I was out for five days. I was awakened by the sound that has started to make itself all too familiar in my skull. That horrible oscillating pitch, once a random nuisance, was now a constant threat to my very humanity. It was getting hard to concentrate. The underlying oscillations had been present for a while, but a screeching siren was now growing ever more prominent. And with the sound came nearly insufferable pain.
It had to end. I had to end.
“Jacob, you’re awake. Oh, my God, are you okay?”
The silence I lofted back to Bethany had a very instant and obvious effect. Her eyes went from a wide-open sparkle to dull, heavy slits. Even with her fear and disheveled appearance, she was beautiful. Of all the things I was going to miss, I would miss her the most. This woman had brought me back to life, given me something to live for.
“Could you please stop writing for a moment?”
I lobbed another silence up to her before I spoke.
“Bethany..it’s…I’m almost…finished. Not with the journal.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The next time I change will probably be the last.”
“What do you mean?”
“Bethany, the sound…it’s full blown in my head now. It’s only a matter of moments before it drives me all the way to the other side. I can hardly piece together a coherent thought. Everything is fr
agments now. My memories are starting to slip away. I hurt. It’s happening.”
“I have plenty of tranquilizers.”
“No…not this time. It has to end.”
“Jacob…”
“Bethany, you promised. The next time I change, you have to do it.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“If you don’t, you’ll end up like me, and all of this will have been in vain. The world can’t lose you. You might hold the only key to the cure.”
“You mean the Mengele file? Fuck that.”
“No, Bethany. Promise me you’ll do everything in your power to decrypt that message. Please. And promise me you’ll take care of Susan.”
Silence.
“Please.”
“Okay…I will.”
“And please make good on your other promise.”
She ran out crying.
~
I can’t honestly say how much more time I have left. I could turn any second, in an hour, a day…who knows? What I do know is that this journal, and all of the recordings I have, must be made public. Everyone has a right to know everything that has happened…the truth.
I don’t know if my words will amount to anything. But if they can at least enlighten someone, anyone, as to what has happened, then everything I have done had purpose. That’s all I can ask for at this point, that I have not died in vain.
And I am going to die. I can feel it bubbling up inside of me. It wants to take control. It will, you know. Just like it will probably take control of you. It’s only a matter of time. Unless there is some miracle cure in that encrypted file, this entire planet is going to suffer the same fate as I have. I do hope your suffering doesn’t drag on as mine has. For you, I hope your pain is quick and your humanity taken in an instant.
If you do find yourself in the same position, do yourself and everyone you love a favor and take your life. The very minute you find yourself at the business end of the mouth of hell, find a gun and send a bullet whizzing through your skull. It’s the only humane thing to do. It’s the only way to prevent yourself from destroying the lives of those you love.
There is…there is…no…not now.
Heavy breathing.
“Oh, shit…this one…”
Screams.
“I feel like the…the…sound is so…Fuck!”
“The sound is too loud. I can’t hear anything else. I have to…”
Heavy breathing.
Thumping sound.
If…I…break…open…my…
Thumping sound.
Skull…the sounds…will spill out.
Screams.
Thumping.
Heavy breathing.
“Jacob!”
“Susan…help me…oh, God, help me.”
“What can I do? Jacob, your head…it’s bleeding. Jacob, what are you doing?”
Moaning.
Screams.
“Jacob, you’re hurting me. Let me go. Stop. What are you…? No! Jacob, don’t!”
Screams.
Moaning.
“Help!”
Moaning.
“Susan? What’s…? Oh, shit! Jacob, let her go.”
“He’s hurting me, Bethany!”
“Jacob…”
Moaning.
“No…no…no…God, I don’t want to.”
“Bethany! Help me. Jacob, stop!”
Screams.
Moaning.
“Susan! Duck!”
Gunshot.
Screams.
Thumping.
“Oh, my God! Bethany!”
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay, Susan. Everything will be okay.”
Crying.
Crying.
Silence.
Chapter 31: Bethany
I guess it’s my turn now. I’m not going to pretend. I’m not a writer like Jacob was…
He’s dead, if you haven’t figured that out yet. I killed him. The virus finally took over, and I had no choice.
As you can probably guess from the recording, he bit Susan. So far she hasn’t shown any signs of change. Maybe I’ll get enough time with her, and I can decrypt the Mengele file. If there’s a cure within the contents, I’ll find someone somewhere that can synthesize it. Hopefully, I can get that done in time to save the world.
I only hope it’s not too late. I have no idea how much time I have left before this plague spreads to every remaining human on the planet. No one is safe. I have no idea if anyone else has even tried to work out a cure, but I will do everything I can to find that someone and give them everything they need to stop this virus.
I can’t let everything that Jacob did for me and for Susan be pointless.
One more thing…I’m pregnant. Yeah, it’s Jacob’s. I know, it’s so random, and the probability seemed sky high that Jacob and I would conceive a child in the short time we knew one another, but I can feel it. I’m sure in a few months a little fucking zombie is going to burst out of my chest and eat me whole. I only hope that whatever is growing inside of me is human and whole and healthy.
Anyway…I’m going to do my best to honor Jacob’s wishes with this journal. I’ll piece together the written and audio forms as best I can. Remember, I’m not a writer, so…well…
I’ll do my best. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a file to decrypt.
Afterword
Blog Entry: 11/30/2015
This is Bethany Nitshimi. After piecing together the journal of Jacob Plummer into the manuscript I titled “I, Zombie, I,” I realized how everything has changed. People won’t be going to the bookstores to buy copies of books. No one is spending hours at coffee shops paging through their copies of The New Yorker. Newspapers are gone, and there is no more broadcast news. The best way to get the word out is the network. And besides, it’s my comfort zone.
The recorder will come in handy as well. I will upload daily files if necessary. You will get to enjoy the full-on experience. Oh, joy.
Sally decided to stay with us. In fact, she’s going to join me in keeping the world updated on what’s happening. So between Sally and me, we hope to keep the world in the know on the progress of the Mengele file as well as help those in need to find safe haven.
I will tell you that things look far worse than they were when we left Munich. Maybe it’s just Paris, maybe it was just the concentration of citizens, but Paris is pretty much gone. We only stopped to try to find supplies, and so I could locate a connection to the Internet. Thankfully, I found one in the form of an air-card. I broke into a local mobile shop, picked up a few and made sure they were all activated. Now I have constant access so long as I have a mobile signal.
And, in case you’re wondering, we buried Jacob. I couldn’t stand to just toss him out of the train car. So we stopped the train, dug a grave, said a few words, and covered him with dirt. I miss him. I hate what has happened. The landscape of the entire world has changed, and I feel I’m at its new epicenter. That very thought makes me want to bury my head in the sand and hide until everything passes over. But then I remember the promise I made to Jacob, and I know I will keep that promise to the best of my ability. Susan is under my protection, and there is only one true goal―find a cure and keep this young girl from suffering the same fate as Jacob.
I have a plan. Gunther, Sally, and I will find a new safe haven where I will attempt to gather everyone and everything I need to find a cure for this virus. I know if I don’t, humanity has no hope. It seems the weight of the world has been placed on my shoulders. This is now my zombie…my.
If you liked I Zombie I, continue the series with My Zombie My
The City of Lights is crawling with the undead who care nothing for love or wine and are hell-bent on getting the one thing they want - your brains. The living have only one hope – Bethany Nitshimi who carries with her an encrypted file containing the key to the cure. Unfortunately Bethany is battling the undead, the apocalypse, and a group who will stop at nothing to k
eep her from curing the plague.
My Zombie My picks up where I Zombie I left off and heads into Paris. Bethany’s gang of heroes has picked up a few more strays and mankind is getting dangerously close to the end. As Bethany battles the zombie horde she must crack the file, get the cure, and save the human race, before we are just meat for the beasts.
Purchase My Zombie My here.
About the Author
Jack Wallen is a seeker of truth and a writer of words. Although he resides in the unlikely city of Louisville, Kentucky, he likes to think of himself more as an interplanetary soul … or so he tells the reflection in the mirror. He’s also the author of:
I Zombie I
My Zombie My
Die Zombie Die
Lie Zombie Lie
Zombie Radio
T-Minus Zero
Hell’s Muse
Screampark
Shero
Shero II: Zombie A GoGo
A Blade Away
Gothica
Endgame
Klockwerk Kabaret
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Contact Jack!
To get more information about Jack, stop by his web site, Get Jack’d, and learn more. You can also send Jack an email to [email protected].