by Jack Wallen
“Where were you?” Gunther asked half concerned, half angry.
I have to admit I was hoping everyone would rejoice in seeing me return with a sack full of food. I never expected to have disappointed anyone. Instead, everyone had to dig in a little berating for my leaving alone. I suppose I should understand and humbly accept the tongue lashing. After all, it only proves they care. The disappointment did quickly subside when the gang laid eyes on the pirate-load of booty I scored. When the pack was dumped out on the table it really did look like quite a score. Lucky us.
Naturally the food had to be rationed. Judging by the looks on everyone’s face, any given member of our group would just as soon dig in and devour the entire pile in one sitting. That scale of epic mistake is one we could not endure. So rations it is.
After the food was divvied up, I pulled Jean off to the side to have a word.
“I need a huge favor,” I whispered quickly, to the point.
“Anything, Bethany.” Jean’s look was of concern, understandably so. What was the crazy chick up to?
“You need to take a look at whatever it is that’s growing inside of me and see if it looks normal.” My demand was a bit shy of loony, I admit. Hopefully my passion and persistence would alleviate any doubts of its sincerity.
A look crossed Jean’s face, either of true concern or a mocking smile; I couldn’t tell which. “Bethany, you and your baby share the same blood. If the fetus is infected then you would have already been infected. Since you show no signs, I believe it safe to say you are free from the virus.” Jean’s final statement carried a note of definitiveness.
I so badly wanted to believe the doctor, but there was something in my heart tossing a wrench of doubt into the works. God, listen to me – ‘heart’. I’m a level 27 nerd on just about every plane of existence possible. I don’t think with my heart. I think only with that rich delicacy all the hip zombies are enjoying these days. Or so I used to. Now, thanks to baby Jacob…
Shit. Did I just name a baby? This is all so very wrong. The world is no place to bring a new life into. I seriously doubt this planet will go from fucked to un-fucked in a matter of months. The amount of destruction this virus has visited on the planet will take years, maybe decades, to overcome.
“Jean, are you sure there isn’t some way there could be a zombie growing inside of me? I need to be one hundred percent sure.” My voice carried the panic that was bubbling up from my gut.
“If you are that concerned, then yes, I can run a few tests. I’ll draw some blood and amniotic fluid. And we can do a couple of scans to check the physical formation. If those tests come up clean will that clear up any doubts?” Jean’s voice was dripping with the care of a loving parent. The man gets an A+ for bedside manner.
“Now, eat something,” Jean finished.
He received no argument from me there.
As we ate, I realized how little we had chatted or learned about our newest members. As everyone was finishing their rations I decided to engage them in a little subtle recon.
“So, Michelle, Mikka…who are you? What do you do?” Going for the throat was not necessarily my usual style, but everything had been tossed on its head, so I figured why not go for the money shot right away.
Michelle and Mikka looked to one another and tossed a bit of French back and forth, before answering. “We are…you say…messengers,” Mikka spoke up first.
“Bicycle messengers,” Michelle added with an overly adorable smile.
That was certainly a good thing to know. Not only would our two newest refugees know the city better than anyone else, they were also most likely in great shape, which translated into being able to outrun moaners and screamers. That will come in handy.
“Are you married? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” This time it was Zander who asked a question. Although I was starting to trust the man, there was an undertone of creepy to his words, as if he were planning some future hook up with one of the M’s (he hadn’t stated his sexual preference and who was I to assume?).
Michelle let out a cartoonish giggle. “We are brother and sister.” The two glanced at each other and, I swear, simultaneously rolled their eyes. They were probably thinking along the lines of “Stupid Americans”. Of course, I don’t blame them. The second they said it, it was so obvious they were related as they both had the same slight build, eye color, nose, lips – even their voices held a similar tone and timbre.
“How did you manage to survive?” Gunther asked.
“We were away on holiday – hiking in the Pyrenees Mountains. It was just the two of us, quite far from the city. We had no way to hear of any news, so when we finally made it back everything had changed. Everything had become so dangerous,” Michelle spoke clearly, with little unbroken English. This just gets better and better.
“We hadn’t been in town for an hour before we were attacked. Something – one of these things – almost bit Michelle. She got away from the beast, we got on our bikes, and we hid.” Mikka’s English was nearly as proper, maybe he was still suffering from some mild shock.
“We remained in hiding until we were forced out by hunger. We had little food with us and thought it best to stock up and wait out whatever disaster had struck,” Michelle added with much youthful brevity.
We all traded stories. Mikka and Michelle were happy to inform me they had heard my story on Zombie Radio and it thrilled them to be in my company. It was a wasted, but very flattering sentiment.
Taking the time to sit and relate to other humans made everyone in the group relax. In the middle of the new world cluster fuck, some downtime was about the only means of relaxation that didn’t involve either self-medication or sleep (or both). So we chatted for a good portion of the afternoon and, surprisingly enough, there was even some laughter.
I felt human again. And when Jean pulled me to the side to run the tests, I even felt like a woman. Of course it’s hard not to feel like a woman when you’re having a fetus inside of you tested to ensure it was, in fact, human. When Jean laid me on a table for the sonogram I nearly gasped. It hadn’t really dawned on me fully that I’m pregnant. Up until this point it was nothing more than a sidebar to be ignored. But, there it is, I’m pregnant. I have a living being growing inside of me and, hopefully, in a moment, this good man will verify that the baby is, in fact, one hundred percent not undead human.
“This will be a little chilly.” Jean said the words I had heard on so many television shows and movies. You never actually think you’ll be in that same situation – until you are. One minute you’re protesting for absolute freedom from the tyranny of what everyone assumes to be the American ‘dream’ and the next you’re living it.
“Jean…” A lump the size of a grapefruit instantly formed in my throat. “What do we do if this baby isn’t exactly, you know, alive?”
“Bethany, the chances of this fetus being infected and not passing that infection on to you are about as possible as me being voted sexiest man alive. It’s not going to happen.” Jean added a wink when he finished his thought. I returned the gesture with a smile.
“See that, Bethany? That is a perfectly formed fetus. This sonogram shows zero abnormalities. I’m sure the blood work will confirm these findings.”
“How much longer for that?” I felt like I was unfairly grilling the doctor.
“Maybe you should go back and join the rest of the group before they grow suspicious. We wouldn’t want them to think anything untoward is happening.” Again with the dispensing of the fatherly-like advice.
I gave Jean a hearty hug and started back toward Susan’s room. Before I could even make it a few steps down the hall, Jean was calling me back.
“Bethany, I forgot to mention – it’s almost time for a second round of vaccination on our subject. I want you with me when I administer the dose. I must warn you though, something unexpected has begun with the zombie.”
There was an ominous tone to Jean’s words. I wanted to turn and run before he could spit out
the next fragment.
“The flesh around the mechanism holding the jaw shut has started to…I’m not quite sure how to say this…to rot. The skin, muscle, and tendon around the jaw, face, and neck has all begun a very rapid necrosis. It’s quite unpleasant.”
Jean’s words left me motionless. He had spoken them as if they carried no meaning. I suppose I could understand coming from a man who has probably seen enough gore and horror in the operating room to fill reels and reels of med-school documentaries – but this, this was different. This was also the first time anyone has spoken the words test and vaccination with regards to the Mengele virus – at least that I know of. And I had completely forgotten Jean had already administered the first round while I was out on my solo mission. What Jean expressed was monumental. It meant we had made gigantic progress in breaking down what seemed like an impenetrable barrier.
The warning about the rotting zombie gave center stage to the mention of the vaccination. I wanted to run back and hug Jean a second time, but I refrained. I wanted cooler, more professional heads to prevail. Besides I really didn’t want to get my hopes up and pressure Jean all in the same moment. So, instead, I smiled, nodded, and left the room with a completely renewed spring and purpose to my step. We were closer than ever to finding the cure for the common catastrophe. Things were starting to look up.
Until…
…a deafening crash and a scream assaulted my eardrums. As if running on instinct, my feet took me to Susan’s room to grab the Obliterator. As soon as I entered the room, Zander was questioning me.
“What the fuck was that?”
“What do you think? Come on, I’m going to need some help,” I hailed Zander as I reached the door to exit.
“You’re shitting me right? I’m not going anywhere near one of those things. Not with my bum leg. Besides, I thought you said that thing wasn’t working.” The coward remained seated.
“I fixed it. Now get your scared ass up and help me.” Without waiting, I flew out the door and fired up the Obliterator. I tuned the settings based on the last time I tested it against a screamer and fired it up. The sound that greeted my ears was familiar and, in some strange way, comforting.
I hit the hall running, but stopped as I reached the nurses’ station. There was no sign of the screamer. And, as if on cue, the zombie let out another wall shaking roar. I took off toward the sound, Obliterator held out well in front of me.
At the end of the hall I took a left turn and there it was, sniffing around each room. Maybe the thing smelled the remains of patients past, or its nose was on the trail of our scent, only it hadn’t figured out which room our tasty brain-snacks were in. No matter the case, as soon as the Obliterator was within earshot of the screamer the thing dropped to its knees and grabbed its ears.
“Zander! I need some help down here! And bring something to tie this bitch up!” I yelled, attempting to be heard over the screamer’s volume.
“Coming!” Zander called back, proving my pipes were still strong.
I don’t know why I allowed myself to ask a man I didn’t fully trust to help me. Add to that his current disability and I couldn’t imagine this man being of any use to me. To top it off, when Zander finally hobbled onto the scene, he nearly wet himself when he saw the monster banging its head against the floor in a vain attempt to stop the noise.
“What the fuck do you want me to do?”
“I want you to tie the thing up,” I said, motioning toward the naked undead man with my head.
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen, not while that fucker is still moving.”
“Go get Jean and tell him to bring a hypo with the vaccine.” I made sure Zander knew there was no choice in the matter. “You’d better hurry, before this thing succeeds in cracking its own skull open!”
I couldn’t believe what I’d just said. I should have been happy to see the zombie dribbling its skull off the tile, but we really needed a different test subject. As proud as I was that we managed to bring down the meat puppet, how exactly would we feel if the vaccination turned out to be a cure, only our cure healed a man who no longer had a face?
Jean came to the scene and zipped past me.
“Bethany, we cannot continue with this. We must save the sedative, you know that.” After stating the obvious, the doctor plunged the hypo into the shoulder of the zombie. After about ten or so more head bangs, the thing fell to the floor unconscious.
“We have to find another way of keeping this thing silent. I will not waste another round of sedative. Zander, help me tie it up. Bethany, continue with the sound until we are sure this beast is secure,” Jean commanded.
Zander grabbed everything he could to tie up our new specimen as I focused the Obliterator near the thing’s head. One of the most eerie sights I have seen yet, and one that will more than likely follow me into dreamland tonight, was this undead man staring at my device with the fear of death in its eyes.
The. Fear. Of. Death.
It’s official…nothing can shock me now.
“And what are we to do with this one Bethany? You want to start a collection?” Jean looked at me, full concern burrowing into his brow.
“Jean, you know we can’t keep the other subject.”
“Bethany –“
“It failed, Jean.”
It seemed my proclamation was meant to rest squarely on the shoulders of our doctor. It wasn’t and I felt like complete shit for letting the words ride out of my mouth in such a tone. Before my brain could comprehend what was happening, my arms were wrapped around Jean’s shoulders. After a brief pause he responded in kind.
There are certain moments that will always stand out to me with regards to the apocalypse. This brief moment will certainly be one of them. Why this? Simple. Up to this point, everything having to do with zombies has been one helluva-fucking challenge after another. This moment, for whatever reason, came all too easy. I could, of course, read into the event and think that maybe it was some sort of calm before the storm. But no, I wanted to just believe everything fell into place at the perfect time and all was starting to fit together as it should. And why shouldn’t I believe that? My baby was healthy, we have a vaccine to test, and now we have the perfect specimen on which to test it.
Jean had informed us that if the vaccine were to work, it would take twenty-four-or-so hours to show signs of success. He also let us in on a dirty little secret of his. Along with the vaccination, Jean had added enough tranquilizer to ensure the monster was out cold for the entire twenty-four hour period. How convenient.
Having this new screamer to test on meant we had to dispose of our other victim. Jean’s handiwork was perfect; but the doctor was right, the already-necrotic flesh of the zombie wreaked havoc on the eyes and the nose. Jean couldn’t have possibly predicted the eventual outcome, nor the rotten smell. As much as I hated the idea of having to find yet another specimen, not one of us could get anywhere near the rotting zombie. The necrosis spread very quickly and was already beginning to take over its torso.
I understood Gunther’s complaints about what seemed like a vicious cycle of trapping, testing, killing, and disposing; but until we had a vaccine or a cure in our hands, we’d do whatever it took.
I thought everyone was going to cheer when we finally heaved the thing out a window. The smell and sight of Jaws was almost enough to kick in the old gag reflex every time you took a breath or looked its way.
After we rid ourselves of the nightmare, and we were all able to take in a breath and a moment of peace, a question crossed our minds –
How did the second screamer get onto our floor?
“I am sure the door locked and no other zombie made it through,” Michelle said with confidence.
There really was no reason to doubt Michelle, especially after inspecting the door to find out that it had, in fact, locked. No zombie could have managed to get through. That could only mean one thing.
“Is the entry way on the bottom floor secure?” The words sl
owly poured out of my mouth, reflecting the fear that none of us really wanted to know the answer.
Everyone just stared at me like a herd of deer caught in a singular, sun-bright headlight. And, as if on cue and with no concern for our safety, we all ran for the elevator. No one had any idea what we were rushing into, but there was no way we could chance an unknown like this. If the entrance had been breached, we were nothing more than a zombie buffet waiting to picked apart.
We all managed to squeeze into the elevator car and I smacked the ‘L’ button. Not a word was spoken on the ride to the lobby. An all-too-obvious terror had grasped our throats, making it nearly impossible to speak. In the silence of the seemingly eternal elevator ride down, our breath and heartbeats were the only sounds. When the cart slowed to a stop and the door opened, time came to a complete halt.
Not only was the front door of the hospital standing wide open, the surrounding glass walls had been shattered, leaving the entire hospital wide open to the evil zombie horde.
“Fuck!” Everyone gasped as they realized just how that singular word applied to the situation.
We were fucked.
“Oh my God, what are we going to do?” Michelle’s French accent mixed with her voice rising an octave made her sound like a cartoon.
“We either seal off those windows, or we seal off this floor,” Gunther said, inspecting the shattered glass of the door and walls.
Distant screams echoed from outside. Pleas of help from humans and inhuman screams from monsters filled the space of the first floor and iced the blood in our veins.
“Whatever we decide, we have to do it now!” I didn’t need any prompting or prodding to know just how dangerous the situation had become.
“I believe sealing off the first floor will be the most efficient plan.” Gunther turned to the group and spoke with enough authority to make us all instantly agree.
Another, louder, scream pierced the air, threatening to shatter the remaining glass walls. As we all stood frozen with fear, a woman ran towards the building with a look of sheer terror on her face. At first it wasn’t clear why the woman was running, but just as she was about to reach the pseudo-safety of the broken hospital entryway, a screamer appeared out of nowhere and tackled the woman. She was dead before they hit the ground. Of course death didn’t stop the zombie from defiling the poor woman. At first the abomination seemed content with ripping at her flesh with its bare hands. It was both incredible and revolting to see human flesh pulled and stretched to the point of tearing. The woman’s skin was like so much taffy. But that wasn’t enough for the zombie. After he managed to pull all of the skin from the woman’s stomach, it was time to tear at her neck and face with his teeth.