Omega Virus_Beta Hour

by Jake A. Strife

  “I don’t need your help saving the world.”

  “Wait a second!” My voice rose.

  He hushed me. “It’s not like that!”

  “Then what?” I asked.

  “Do you have the guts to kill her?”

  My gut froze over.

  “Do you?” he asked again; obviously, he meant Jessie.

  “That isn’t going to happen!” I lied.

  “Do you think they won’t all notice? She’s bitten. Only the frozen hibernation is keeping it slowed in her veins.”

  “I’ll find a cure or—” I tried.

  “A cure?” he asked, incredulous. “There is no cure. Don’t fool yourself.”

  “But—”

  “You have two options,” Wesley said.

  “You’re not the boss of me!”

  “You two are putting us all in danger,” Wesley said. “If she turns in the middle of the night, she’s going to kill us all. Well not me, but you all!”

  “You don’t know that!” I whispered.

  “You’re in denial. Again, you have two options.”

  “No—”

  “Yes!” He grabbed my shoulders. “One: You kill her now, the merciful thing to do! Or two: You leave with Jessie and take care of her in your own time.”

  I sucked in my breath. Leave? On our own? Kessa and I were lucky to have made it. With Jessie being sick, then we wouldn't survive long. But who knew how long she had?

  “Well, Zachary Mastiff,” Wesley asked. “What’s your choice? It's your fate. Your destiny.”

  “I…”

  “If you don’t have the guts, I’ll do it!” Wesley put his hands on his holsters.

  “No! No! No! I’ve made my choice.”

  “And what is that?” he asked.

  “I’ll leave with Jessie.” I looked back to the group. “When she turns she’ll be my problem, not yours.”

  Jessie turned and looked back. She smiled at me, and I smiled back, but inside my heart shattered. How could I ever take her life?

  LEVEL 21 – ON THE ROAD AGAIN

  We found a temporary refuge; a fenced in area under a freeway. The night grew so cold; I feared we'd freeze to death before morning.

  As I cuddled up against Kessa, I found myself not wanting her. I wanted Jessie. Thus, I couldn’t help but be depressed.

  Kessa shivered and drove her back end into me. I grunted as she nearly knocked me down the slope beside us. Homeless people had once resided under the same freeway. They'd left an ample supply of filthy blankets and makeshift pillows.

  I tried to move my arm, but it'd fallen asleep an hour before. In response, Kessa mumbled in her sleep. I tried to listen, but I couldn't make out anything coherent.

  I looked over Kessa's shoulder and watched Jessie. She lay in the middle of Jeff and Dave, who both refused to get body heat from each other. They needed to learn dignity came second to survival.

  Wesley hovered near the edge of a concrete wall, watching the night. He had his gun ready to shoot anything that moved, which gave me cause for alarm; he might shoot me should I try to stand.

  “Not even any animals,” Wesley whispered. “What does it mean?”

  I craned my neck to regard him. He didn't look my way, but I knew he spoke to me.

  I twisted my arm and slowly pulled it out from underneath Kessa. She shivered which sent icicles into my heart. I couldn't help it. The time had come to leave.

  “Give me a way to find you,” I whispered as I approached Wesley.

  He looked at me, grinning wide. “You want to meet again? I see you still want to save the world.”

  I rubbed my hands over my bare arms. “Plus, you still owe me answers.”

  Wesley reached his coat and pulled out a radio. He shoved it into my hand. “I don’t know how far we’re going. But I want to stay in this area.”

  “I thought you had the enemy's location,” I asked.

  “Some are up in Ohio, others towards New York. And then another out west. There are a lot of leads, but for now, I'm following the scent here.”

  G.O.D. Mode had a lot of members it seemed, and it would take a lot of work. The least I could do would be return to help.

  “Thanks, man.” I held out my hand.

  He smacked my hand away. “Don't thank me yet.”

  “Why?” I asked as he pulled off his trench coat. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you a parting gift, kid.” He said.

  “But—”

  “Take it.” he shoved the bundle into my arms.

  “But—” I tried again.

  “Just shut up and get Jessie.” He whispered.

  I continued to stare. Big shot Wesley, never showing his feelings.

  After a few moments, he scowled. “You don’t get the fedora. You haven't earned the right to wear the Zombie Killer Hat.”

  I hadn’t been expecting it, but I kept my mouth shut. I turned to find Jessie standing behind me. She wore a garbage bag as a cloak. In the dim moonlight, she already looked like one of the undead. For a moment, I thought she had turned, but then she spoke.

  “I’m ready.” she said.

  “You overheard?” I asked.

  “Yes.” She said. “And it’s the right thing to do.”

  With a sigh, I scanned the group. “Okay, let’s go.”

  She nodded, and I glanced back at Wesley.

  He held out his hand. “I’ll be waking the Tweedles up for their shift soon. I won’t let Kessa freeze. Now you can thank me.”

  “Of course,” I smiled. “Thank you for everything.”

  “Good luck.” He whispered as we slid silently down the ramp.

  At the bottom, I stepped on something that made an aluminum crunching sound and I froze. Jessie sucked in her breath. Still only silence remained.

  I held up the Zombie Killer's coat, and she shook her head. “You earned it, not me.”

  Forcing a grin, I took her hand, which felt warmer than I'd expected it to be. She had a high fever, which meant it wouldn’t be long. I cringed at the thought of pulling the trigger.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I pulled the trench coat on and shook my head. “Sure.”

  We squeezed through a hole in the chain-link fence and moved into the woods. Looking around, we both knew we needed to stay quiet and find shelter. While traveling miles from the Cornelia base, we'd passed Corpse hordes, some of which numbered in the thousands.

  Neither of us spoke as we walked on for hours. Even in the quiet, Jessie's breathing comforted me. So long as I could hear that, I knew she hadn't joined the undead's ranks, and wouldn't be taking a chunk from my neck. Jessie swore she didn't feel cold, but even with Wesley's trench coat wrapped me, I still froze. I couldn't feel my toes.

  After awhile she said, “It won’t be long.”

  I gasped. “Don’t say that! You have plenty of time left!”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” She said. “There’s a building coming up.”

  “Oh?”

  I couldn’t see anything through the darkness.

  “It’s not too far; I can see it.” She assured me.

  “You can see in the dark?” I asked.

  She sighed. “The only positive side-effect.”

  I hadn’t meant to mention the virus; I felt bad.

  “Lead the way then,” I said.

  Jessie walked out ahead, then glanced at me, “Watch my back. Not backside.”

  My face burned with embarrassment as I kept pace.

  We skirted a clearing, and soon enough I spotted the structure, a two-story, mansion. Out front sat a fountain, with the statue of a woman holding a tilted vase. Water no longer ran.

  Guns readied, we approached the courtyard. We stepped through the tall frosted grass. With each crunching step, I held my breath. Upon reaching the fountain, we found the frozen water.

  “Let’s get inside before we freeze.” I murmured.

  “Do you think there are Corpses in there?”
she asked.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But I’ll handle them.”

  She shook her head. “We both will. I’m not useless yet.”

  “Just be careful,” I told her. “Getting a chunk ripped out won’t feel good.”

  “I know.” She said. “Trust me, I know.”

  Once again, said the wrong thing. We walked up the stone steps, as I shook my head in self-disgust. Jessie motioned to the door. I held my breath and tapped with my gun, several quick times.

  If anyone were home, dead or otherwise, hopefully, we’d hear them coming. But after a few moments, all remained quiet. I tried the handle, and the door opened without a problem. I nodded to Jessie, and we both slipped in, guns raised.

  I could barely make out the foyer through the dim moonlight shining in the windows. The darkness didn't bother Jessie; she kept walking. I followed, nearly blind.

  “I can’t see,” I whispered. “I’m the useless one.”

  She hushed me. We entered another room, and Jessie moved away. I stood blind and alone.

  “Jessie?” I whispered.

  She didn’t respond, and I no longer could hear her breathing; I cursed.

  “Jessie?” I asked, growing worried.

  Footsteps came from the other side of the room. Every hair on my body stood on end and fear flooded me.

  “Jessie, is that you?” I whispered, trying to stay calm.

  A blinding light erupted from the center of the room, and I cried out, shielding my eyes.

  “Quiet!” Jessie whispered.

  I lowered my arms to find her holding a flashlight.

  “You scared the crap out of me!” I whispered. “Don’t ever do that again!”

  She grinned. “At least let me have a tiny bit of fun.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That wasn’t fun for me.”

  “Let’s continue our search.” She handed me the flashlight. “Now that you’re not useless.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I took the light.

  The next few rooms were bedrooms. They seemed to be guestrooms. We didn't find any personal belongings. When we found the kitchen, we stopped.

  “Let’s search all of the cabinets for food,” I said. “There has to be something here.

  “You start on this end,” Jessie said. “I’ll check the far side.”

  She went off into the dark. I almost envied her night vision. I started with the cabinets. To my surprise, each and everyone sat stocked with food. I sifted through, finding everything from canned beans to cereals that weren’t expired. I ignored the foods that required preparation.

  A loud and sudden thud came from behind me. I spun expecting to find Jessie, but instead my light landed on the silver door of a walk-in freezer.

  “Jessie?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer. Did she accidentally lock herself in? I took a few cautious steps toward the door, and another thud came from inside.

  “Jessie?” I asked again, loud enough for her to have heard me if she were in the room elsewhere. But she didn’t answer.

  I walked up to the freezer, turned the handle and pulled the door open. My light landed on the face of an old man, with green frozen eyes. He hissed, and I stumbled back into the counter. The Corpse wore a full black, butler’s outfit and his hands held a silver tray with teacups that sloshed about dark, putrid liquid. He walked slowly, probably as he had in life.

  I lifted my gun, ready to shoot, but he collapsed, a butcher knife in the back of his head. Jessie reached down and pulled the blade out.

  “What were you thinking?” She scolded.

  “I thought you were stuck in there!” I argued.

  “I had stepped into the walk-in food pantry.”

  I held my hand over my heart, trying to calm down. “This place is packed with food.”

  “Tell me about it,” she responded, then stared at the dead butler. “Somebody has a sense of humor. Sticking this guy in the freezer.”

  I shrugged. “Wasn’t there a game with that one chick? You could put her butler in the freezer. It was the only way to get him to leave you alone.”

  We shared a small chuckle and then walked back to the foyer.

  A large center staircase led to a landing, and two smaller ones branched off onto two separate balconies that ran along the upper walls.

  “After you.” Jessie rolled her hand.

  We walked upstairs, and I tapped on the first door on the left. Satisfied no Corpses were inside, I opened it and found just a bedroom. A pink, canopy bed sat in the center with stuffed bunnies all over.

  “A little girl’s room,” I said.

  Jessie sighed. “Sad, isn't it?”

  I nodded as I checked the closet. Nothing of out of the ordinary. The next room looked similar but with violet and an affinity for unicorns. There were statues and wall prints of ponies even. We made our way to the center double doors. With a shove, we pushed them open and stepped in guns ready to fire. Again, no bodies or Corpses, but we did find an amazing library that stretched twenty feet high, with a chandelier above. It would have been normal except the amount of blood and bones on the floor.

  “What do you think happened here?” Jessie asked.

  “A massacre,” I responded. “Probably the entire family.”

  “But where’s the Corpses that did it?” She asked. “The doors were shut.”

  I shined the light around the room. There were no other ways out or broken windows.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe it was the butler, and someone locked him in the freezer before escaping?”

  “Something is off.” She sounded worried.

  “Let’s finish checking the East rooms. There still may be something in there. And we need to find a place to sleep for the night. I'm not sleeping with unicorns or bunnies!”

  Jessie giggled. “What's wrong with unicorns and bunnies?”

  We checked the first room on the east side of the hallway.

  The room belonged to a man. Large deer heads hung mounted on the walls. Each of the eyes on the three creatures shined with what seemed like a deep animosity, almost as if they were alive.

  “I hate taxidermy,” Jessie said. “How can people do such things?”

  “An acquired taste, I guess,” I whispered.

  A large king sized bed against the far wall, appeared soft and comfy.

  “We can sleep in here maybe,” I said.

  Jessie shook her head fervently.

  “Yeah, I was hoping you’d say no. I don’t like the air in here.”

  With that we stepped out of the room, shutting the doors behind us and walked to the final room.

  “Last one,” I whispered.

  Jessie reached for the handle and threw open the door. We found what would've been a paradise. Video game posters covered the walls, and a gigantic, probably 70-inch TV hung on the far wall. A bed with golden triangles on the blankets sat in the center of the room; king-sized as well.

  “We sleep here tonight,” I said.

  Jessie smiled. “ I couldn’t agree more.”

  I checked the closet and found a girl's clothing, but nothing else. So I pushed a loveseat up against the door and turned to Jessie, who already found her way under the blankets. I almost joined her, but I saw a flash of her ankle bite, and I stopped.

  “I’ll sleep on the loveseat,” I said. “In case anyone or anything tries to push it open, I’ll feel it.”

  “Okay.” She sounded sad, but rolled over and was snoring like a lion within minutes.

  I wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed with her and snuggle. If I did, I'd put myself at serious risk. Chances were, she'd kill me in my sleep. Although, it almost seemed worth it.

  LEVEL 22 – WEEKENDS

  My mom's voice came up the stairs. “Zachary, your friend is at the door!”

  I didn't have any friends. What the heck did she mean?

  Sitting up in bed, I looked around. Something felt different, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I'd gone to sleep som
ewhere else, but where? And how did I get home?

  As I ran my hand through my long hair, I furrowed my brows. My hair hadn't been long in several years.

  My mom yelled again, “I’m sending her up!”

  Panic-stricken, I called back. “Sending who? I'm not even dressed!”

  Glancing at arms and legs, a horrible truth hit me. I wore footie Mickey Mouse pajamas. I dove out of bed and scrambled to the closet in a desperate search for something else to throw on. Any second, my mystery visitor would make it up the stairs.

  “C’mon!” I tugged at my closet door; it didn’t want to open.

  I pulled as hard as I could, but the old wooden doors wouldn't budge. Why were they locked? I kicked one, hoping to jar it free, and immediately cried out in pain. My toes cracked against concrete-like wood. I fell to the floor grabbing my foot, feeling each toe to see if they broke.

  “What did you do that for, dumb dumb?” A girl asked.

  Dropping to my knees, I crawled around the side of my bed to hide.

  The girl cheered, “You’re wearing the pajamas I got you, yay!”

  A wave of confusion flowed through me. “Who is it?”

  “Really?” she asked. “You're joking, right?”

  “Just tell me!” I groaned, still pinching the pain out of my toes.

  She gave an exasperated sigh. “Oh em gee! You’d think you’d recognize your girlfriend's voice!”

  The confusion boiled over. Girlfriend? I didn’t have one. I peeked my nose up over the bed. The girl standing there wore a violet shirt, baggy jeans and a backward hat. Her golden hair hung to just below her chin. Sure, I recognized her now; Tiffany Gainsborough. But two things bothered me. One—I never dated her, and two—she seemed shorter and younger than I remembered.

  “Tiffany?” I whispered.

  “I told you never to call me Tiffany!” She snapped. “I hate that! I like the nickname you gave me, Tiffa.”

  The confusion kept smacking me harder and harder. She stood with her hands on her hips, and a backpack slung over her shoulder.

  Things had to be cleared up. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “I suppose so.” She walked in, kicked off her shoes and socks and sat on the edge of my bed, throwing her feet onto a chair.

  “How old are you?” I asked.