by Tristan Vick
“Pain,” she laughed to herself. Glorious, horrible, pain! She was never so happy to feel so miserable in all her life. It was the first sign she had that seemed to suggest that she hadn’t become a mindless monster. She had thoughts. Her mind was intact. She was still human.
“Hello?” Alyssa called out. “Is anybody there?” Alyssa sat up in bed. She had tubes hooked up to her arms and legs. Another one looped up through her nostrils. Wires were attached to various regions of her head. She scratched an itch on her head and to her shock found her head was completely shaved.
“Hello? Anyone?” Still, no answer greeted her.
Slowly her eyes adjusted to the intense lighting. She was hooked up to a life support machine. Alyssa grunted as she tore out the tubes and ripped off the sensors from her temple. Then slowly she slid her heavy legs off the side of the bed, and the balls of her feet slapped against the cold floor. Knees wobbling, she struggled to stand up straight.
“Shit,” Alyssa cursed as her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor. Using the wall for support, Alyssa slowly pushed herself back up and hobbled over to the window. Opening the blinds, she looked out to see an amazing series of crystal clear green and blue waterfalls. Mists came up from the spray of the rushing water. It looked like the Iguazu Falls in Brazil. Except that it wasn’t.
Alyssa reached out and touched the window. It wasn’t even real. Just a digital high definition image on a 4K video screen meant to simulate the outside world.
“What is this place?” Alyssa asked the empty room. Gaining some feeling back in her legs, she staggered to the door and stepped out into the hall. A cool breeze swept down the passageway and shot up her backside. Shivering, she realized that all she had on was a flimsy medical gown.
Gripping the railing, she helped herself along until she came to a reception desk. The lights above it flickered as a disarray of papers littered the countertops and floors. The light breeze kicked up little whirlwinds and caused random leaflets of paper to dance dizzily about.
Alyssa conveniently found a white lab coat hanging over the back of a chair behind the reception desk. She put it on and tied the white sash around her waist. Curious about where the breeze was coming from, she followed the source of the wind.
Walking to the end of a large corridor, she saw daylight. Approaching closer still, she saw that the light seeped in through a large gaping hole at the end of what used to be an entire wing of the hospital. Half of the hospital was missing—torn clean off—as if it had been demolished.
Cautiously, Alyssa tiptoed up to the edge and looked down to see a vast thirty-story drop span out across the devastated ruins of an urban landscape. Desolate buildings, much of them reduced to rubble, littered the valley below. Many of them were charred black and coated with the gray crystallized dust of a nuclear fallout. Ash and sand swirled about in the gusts of wind, which painted the sky monochromatic and bleak.
“Oh my God,” said Alyssa in disbelief.
“I’m afraid God had nothin’ to do with it,” a masculine voice rang out behind her.
Startling, Alyssa spun around, but tripped over her own two feet and almost toppled over the ledge. With lightning-quick speed a leather-gloved hand grabbed her and snatched her back from the brink of certain death.
Gazing up at her savior with surprised eyes, Alyssa saw the form of a cowboy standing before her. He looked as though he walked right off a movie set of a Western and into the real world. It didn’t hurt any that he was unbelievably handsome too. Like a younger version of Rob Lowe.
Tipping back the brim of his cowboy hat, the tall, dark, handsome man said, “Welcome to the end of the world.”
“What do you mean by the end of the world?”
Pointing his gloved finger out across the barren landscape, he spoke in a grim tone of voice. “Just take another gander at them there ruins.”
Alyssa turned and looked back out across the copper tones smeared with black soot and sprinkled with white ash. She brushed a tuft of hair from her eyes and asked, “A last stand?”
“A desperate gamble played by fools. The prevailing nuclear winter has darn near wiped out half of what was left of the human race. On the other hand, the Decrepits, or zombies as you probably called them, aren’t even fazed by the radiation. Makes sense, considering they’ve already got both feet in the grave.” Reaching into his duster jacket, the cowboy took out a tray of tobacco and a square patch of aged paper and began rolling his own cigarette.
“Please, tell me. What happened?”
He looked out over the bleak landscape with an immeasurable sadness in his eyes. “Perhaps a story for another time.
Alyssa watched the cowboy as he pulled out a match, struck it against the stubble of his chin, and then lit his cigarette.
“I’ve obviously been out of it a long time. What month is it?” she asked.
“It’s October. October, 2016 according to the old calendar. To those of us still kickin’ it’s the third year of the Zombie Era, ma’am.”
“Wait, what? It’s 2016? You mean to tell me that I’ve been asleep for three years? How is that even possible? How am I even alive? And why are you here?”
“Until yesterday, this hospital was the last bastion of civilization in all of Newcastle. But the hospital was overrun not more than two days ago. I came to see if there was anything I might salvage when I stumbled upon you. One of the left behind, I’m sorry to say. And I know it ain’t a big comfort, but that’s all I know about any of this.”
“Oh my God,” Alyssa gasped, placing her hands over her mouth. Looking up at the cowboy in fearful recollection, she said, “I was infected! I remember now, I had been bitten and then, then the world went blank.”
Resting his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, he tapped it with his middle finger and flicked the growing train of ash away.
“But how?” Alyssa asked. “How come the infection didn’t consume me like the others? Why didn’t I turn?”
“Well, I reckon I know a way we can find out,” the cowboy said, winking at Alyssa. Turning around he made his way to a filing cabinet. “What’s your last name?”
“Briggs,” she answered, watching him with inquisitive eyes.
Shuffling through the folders full of files, he finally said, “Here we are,” and pulled out two files. He opened the first file and looked at it and closed it again. “I’m assuming you’re not a two-hundred pound black man.”
Alyssa laughed and said, “No.”
The cowboy tossed the first file onto the ground and then handed the correct file to Alyssa. She took it and began reading her medical history. She squinted hard, but the words were all blurry. Alyssa rubbed her eyes but it didn’t seem to help. She handed the file back to the cowboy. “I’m sorry, but my eyes are having some trouble focusing. Do you mind?”
“No problem,” the cowboy said, taking the file folder from her. Reading a few pages, he flipped to the most recent page and read for a bit. “It says here there was something regarding a bone marrow transplant three years ago.”
“You mean like the Berlin patient?”
“I’m sorry, but I do not know what that is.”
“It’s not a what, it’s a who. He was the first person to effectively be cured of the AIDs virus. They gave him a complete bone marrow transplant from an HIV-resistant donor, and he fully recovered.”
Taking a long drag on his cigarette and blowing out a smoke ring, he answered, “Yes, ma’am. Sounds ’bout right to me. But whatever they did to you, it took you to the brink of death and left you there for a good long while.”
Tears boiled up from Alyssa’s bloodshot eyes as she looked back out over the monochromatic desolation. Wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, she turned to the cowboy and asked, “So what now?”
“I don’t rightly know, ma’am. But you’re more than welcome to tag along with me.”
Before Alyssa could reply, the ravenous moans of zombies echoed up from the depths of the ha
lls. Both of them spun back around to see the bent and crooked arms with rigor-mortised-fingers clawing desperately to seize fresh meat as a horde of undead shambled up the corridor toward them.
“Damn Decrepits, must have caught my scent and followed me up here.” Without dawdling, the cowboy whipped out a handgun, spun it around on his forefinger with pizzazz, and handed it off to Alyssa. “Here, I reckon you’re gonna need this.”
“Thanks,” Alyssa said as she checked the cartridge and did and quick ammo check. She slapped it back in and pulled back the slide, loading a round into the chamber. She could almost remember a time when she didn’t know the first thing about handling guns. Now it almost seemed second nature to her.
Down the hall a host of snarling zombies shambled toward them. Their gray rotting skin looked worse than Alyssa remembered. Many of them have boils and blisters that oozed a creamy white puss that smelled awful. Alyssa started to cough and gag at the repugnant stench, and quickly covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her jacket.
The cowboy slid a self-reloading shotgun out of the gun sheath on his long duster jacket, cocked it, and brushed the rim of his hat back with his thumb so he could get a better eye on the monsters. “You ready for this?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
With the short end of the cigarette hanging from his lips, the cowboy mumbled, “Don’t forget, aim for their heads.”
Alyssa took aim and raised her gun. Just then a current of air swept under them and kicked up their coat tails, causing them to flap nimbly in the breeze.
Alyssa Briggs squeezed down on the trigger of her gun until the hammer was cocked all the way back. She never thought her life would end with something as inconsequential as a bite. But, whether fortune or fate, the universe had something else in store for her. Up from the ashes of ruin, like the legendary phoenix, she was reborn. Her new life started here and now. Not with a hollow scream fading into the listless night, but with a bang and a flash of light.
THE END
BOOK TWO
TRISTAN VICK
PROLOGUE
FLIGHT 93Z
TWELVE HOURS AFTER THE NEWCASTLE OUTBREAK
TERMINUS: TOKYO
Flight 93Z
SOMEWHERE OVER THE PACIFIC
“Our current elevation is thirty thousand feet,” Captain Jeremy North said over the intercom. “We have just crossed the International Date Line, so remember to adjust your calendar. It is currently five past ten p.m. on Tuesday, Tokyo time. Thank you for flying with Sun-Coast Airways.”
Pushing up on the throttle, North brought the large 777 jumbo jet to cruising speed and then flicked on the autopilot. Leaning back in his seat, he took the hot coffee that a beautiful blonde flight attendant, Tina McQuarrie, handed him. North thanked her, then sat back and let the smell of roasted beans fill his nostrils and warm his body. Tina smiled at him and then returned to her post as head flight attendant, attending the passengers in first class.
Darkness filled the windows of the cockpit as the passenger jet raced head-first into the night. Suddenly there was a pounding on the cabin door, which startled Captain North and almost caused him to spill coffee on himself. Tina hadn’t been gone for more than a few minutes before she was on the other side of the door begging to be let in. It took a lot to get her riled up, so Ben Ackerson, the co-pilot, got up out of his seat to see what was the matter. Upon opening the door, he saw a wild mob tearing apart the plane behind Tina. Yanking her inside, Ackerson swiftly slammed the cockpit door and bolted it tight.
“What the hell is going on out there?!” Ackerson’s dark eyebrows were furrowed, and he gave Tina a look that spoke volumes about how incompetent he felt she was.
“It’s pandemonium,” Tina said, gasping for breath.
Captain North got out of his seat and nodded at Ben, signaling him to return to his station. North turned back toward Tina and put his hand on hers. Looking into her eyes, he calmly said, “Tina, I need you to take a deep breath and explain exactly what is happening out there. Can you do that for me?”
“I don’t know. I mean, it wasn’t anything … then it was.”
North shot her a polite smile and said, “Okay. How about walking me through it step by step? Help me get a handle on what’s happening out there.”
“I can’t explain it very well. The details are foggy. All I know is that it started with some elderly gentleman lodging a complaint. He mentioned something about feeling a little bit ill. When he got up to go to the lavatory, Dan reminded him that the ‘fasten seat belt’ sign was still on and asked him to return to his seat. The old man protested and stressed it was an emergency.”
“Alright,” Captain North said as he scratched his chin. “But how is any of this related to the chaos on the other side of this door?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Tina said with a fearful look in her eyes. “He’s been in there since take-off.”
Ackerson turned around in his seat, craning his neck, and interrupted, “What do you mean he’s been in there since take-off? We left Newcastle International Airport over nine and a half hours ago. Are you trying to tell me someone’s been in the lavatory this whole time and nobody noticed?”
Tina ignored Ackerson’s remarks and continued explaining the situation to Captain North. “When Dan realized the man still hadn’t returned to his seat, he went to check on him, fearing the man had died of a heart attack or an embolism or something. But when Dan put his ear up to the lavatory door, well, he heard noises.”
“What kind of noises? What are you trying to say?” asked Captain North.
Tina’s eyes brimmed over with tears and she broke into sobs. “Dan’s dead!”
“What?!” North exclaimed. “One of my crew is dead? How did this happen?”
“No,” Tina corrected. “Not dead, he’s been murdered.”
“Murdered?!” Ackerson gasped. “How?”
“Actually,” Tina interjected, “he was eaten.”
“Eaten!?” North almost laughed as the idea was too absurd to entertain, except for the fact that the truth of it was written across every worried line that creased Tina’s beautiful face. “What on God’s green Earth do you mean by telling me he was eaten?”
“That sick old son of a bitch was holding half of Dan’s split-open skull and eating …” Tina put her face into her palms and began sobbing before she could even finish that godawful sentence.
North put his hands on her shaking shoulders to try and comfort her. “Calm down. I’ll head back there and figure out what’s going on.”
“You had better take the gun,” Ben Ackerson said in all seriousness. “Just in case.”
“I intend to,” Captain North replied. He pulled a black lock box out from a cubby and dialed in the combination. The lock clicked and the lid popped open. Inside was a Glock 22, Smith and Wesson. Pulling out the handgun, North walked over to the door. Before leaving the cockpit cabin, he turned around and looked at his first officer. “Ben, make sure to notify Tokyo that we have a situation and will need police and medical assistance when we land. One more thing, don’t open this door for anyone but me.”
“Roger that,” replied Ackerson as he grabbed the radio to call it in.
Tina followed Captain North out into the main cabin. Down the aisle in coach, they could see people shoving each other and trying to get out of the way. North reached out and grabbed a nearby woman who was running up the aisle, shrieking hysterically.
Pulling her aside and kneeling to better talk to her, Captain North said in a calm and reassuring voice, “Please, I need you to tell me what’s happening.”
The woman didn’t respond at first, but Tina shook her by the shoulders and said, “This is Captain North. Answer him, dammit!”
Captain North raised his hand and motioned for Tina to hold off. “Give her some room to compose herself, please.”
“H-he started biting everybody. That old man,” she began. “He’s gone completely mental!�
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North didn’t like the sound of that. He met Tina’s worried gaze and then nodded his chin for her to follow him. He cocked the gun and pushed forward down the aisle toward the back of the plane. Bumping into numerous passengers, he had to shove his way past a steady stream of folks all heading toward him.
As they made their way to the back of the plane, North spotted some terrified children wedged up against one of the window seats. Motioning with his hands, he had Tina stay behind to take care of them. She caught his signal and immediately went to their aid.
Getting closer to the rear of the vessel, North started noticing people with injuries. He passed a woman sitting by herself, dazed and in a state of shock. Her right ear was missing a large chunk. As if it had been bitten off. Blood streamed down her cheek and neck. She didn’t even seem to be aware of it. She merely stared vacantly at the empty seat across from her.
North trudged up the aisle and stumbled upon a large black man who was clutching his wrist. He could hear him cursing under his breath, “Motherfucking senile prick.”
As North passed by, he noticed the gash in the man’s forearm. It was more than just a raw scrape. The laceration went quite deep.
“You’ll find a first aid kit in the back above the flight attendant’s seat,” North informed him. “You’re going to want to bandage that up as soon as possible.”
“Thanks, man,” said the big guy. He followed behind North and accompanied him down the aisle. As North approached the back lavatory he heard an ear-shattering scream. And then someone near the commotion shouted, “Somebody help! He’s killing her!”
“Out of the way!” North shouted over the ruckus. Bulldozing his way past onlookers, he made his way to the back of the plane. The fact that he was holding a gun caused people to naturally break away and make room for him. As an opening appeared, North couldn’t believe his eyes. Was he imagining it all? No, the nightmare was real.