by Forester, TJ
“Dr. Lawson—” Mr. Boyd interrupted her thoughts “—if you’re interested, the CDC would like to offer you a job.”
She felt sick at the implications of all of it. She would help the CDC; however, she would watch their actions more closely than Logan had. She didn’t blame him, couldn’t. It was herself she would blame—so much for her idea of starting over and doing something worthwhile with her research.
Maybe she could still save lives. The zombie outbreak—whatever one wanted to call it, was far worse than cancer.
Do they expect more cases? She found herself wondering. The disease had not started in that small area of Montana. Where did it start? More importantly, where might it pop up again?
Hers and Logan’s treatment had done something. It would take a great deal of effort to redo their work without their notes but they were the obvious choice for the task. At least they would have the resources of the CDC behind them.
“Have there been any new cases, or any outside of the contained area that never reached Trego?” she asked, thinking about what Logan had said about them being transferred there from somewhere else.
“No—” the director answered gravely “—but we aren’t sure where it came from in the first place.”
She gazed over at the machine that was doing something with her blood. “Am I having dialysis—” she furrowed her brow “—did my kidneys fail?”
“No—” Logan shook his head “—you seem to be immune to the bites so we are isolating a serum from you’re blood. Hopefully, it will provide us with some answers.”
“What about you—” she asked him seriously “—you were injected.”
“Yes—” he let out a breath “—but never bitten.”
She met his eyes. “Let’s hope you never are.”
He nodded.
“I’ll let you get some rest,” Mr. Boyd said, and then he left the room.
Logan stayed and sat by her.
“Will we be working together?” she wasn’t sure what she wanted the answer to be. She knew he wanted a relationship with her but she was not ready. After all she had been through, she wasn’t sure she ever would be.
He smiled and took her hand, “I hope that’s okay with you.”
“Logan—” she hesitated and put voice to her misgivings “—I’m not sure that I will ever want a relationship with anyone and I don’t want to hurt you.”
He looked out the window and then back at her. “I understand and I’m all right with that. You’ve been through so much.”
He was referring to the events in Trego; he knew nothing about her divorce. People were always more complicated than they seemed on first glance. She was more concerned about dumping her problems on him than protecting herself. He had saved her life, more than once and kept her from completely losing it when the town had turned into the walking dead.
She trusted him. She knew that she could do that now. That at least gave her a friend and now that she would be working on classified research—with terrifying repercussions, she would need someone with which to talk.
Maybe someday, she thought, maybe someday.
Epilogue
Six Months Later—Manhattan
A man and a woman left a hotel room. He walked with her to an elevator that went directly to a subway. He pulled her into his arms and then kissed her. His mouth traveled down her neck and he bit her—hard.
She screamed and then fell to the floor. Dr. Soranto looked up at the security camera in the corner of the elevator, and blocked it with his hand. He pushed several buttons and the door opened. He exited the car before it continued down to the subway.
When the door opened in the crowded area of the subway platform, the woman was seizing.
A man saw her and yelled for help, “Hey, there’s someone in here. Call 911.”
He tried to help her. The gathering crowd watched but no one called 911. The woman stopped seizing and the man felt for a pulse.
“She’s dead,” he said sadly.
The crowd continued to grow and simply watched for a long while.
Finally, someone pushed forward through the crowd. “I’m a doctor, let me in.”
He moved to where she was and noticed her arm twitching.
“Wait, she’s moving.”
He felt again for a pulse and announced that she was alive. He pulled his phone out to call for help when the woman slowly stood up and walked out into the dazed crowed. Then she turned and stared at the doctor who had been trying to help her. Her eyes had glazed over, almost lifeless in there appearance.
She walked toward him, reached out her curiously graying arm, and then suddenly let out a loud screech.
This story is continued in:
Fatal Memories: Zombie Chronicles Two
(Coming in December 2015)
I’m new to this genre of writing and would appreciate any feedback good or bad—please review this book so that I can improve my writing and give my readers more satisfaction in future books.
Thanks,
TJ Forester