by Guy James
“So, for the New Yorker who is on the street when an outbreak hits, the only current option is to return home.”
“That’s correct.”
“How should this New Yorker proceed if he’s a long way from home and the infection is progressing around him? What are your office’s recommendations with respect to that scenario?”
Now it was Sven’s turn to gulp. This was the issue on which Sven’s and Harry’s views differed greatly. Harry maintained that violence against the infected should never be an option, because he believed that if there was a chance—even a slim one—that infected individuals could be cured, they should be kept intact until science caught up to what had happened to them and could offer them a cure. Sven didn’t believe the infected could ever be cured, and having lived through the Virginia outbreak, he knew that survival sometimes required violence against them. Sven considered all of this while he formulated his answer.
“As we provide in more detail on the New York City Outbreak Readiness Public Forum,” Sven said, “we recommend that New Yorkers return to their homes as quickly and safely as possible, while avoiding any contact with the infected.”
“Okay…” Mallory nodded. “But what about the hostile infected?”
“We advise New Yorkers to avoid the infected and not engage them in any sort of confrontation. The infected move slowly, so this can be done.”
“Is this what you did in Virginia?”
“For the most part, yes. We tried to avoid confrontations at all costs. Our policy was to run and hide.”
“But there were confrontations, and from what I’ve seen and read, you and Jane were armed.”
“We were, and there were some confrontations, but Harry and I can’t advise New Yorkers to act the way that Jane and I did in Virginia. We can’t have people buying and stockpiling weapons. It’s too dangerous in a city that’s as densely populated as New York.”
“What about self-defense situations?”
“With the early warning system that we’re putting in place, we are working to make sure that won’t be an issue.”
Sven put up a hand. “Mallory, I need to have this part of the interview stricken—everything about confrontations with hostile infected and self-defense needs to come out.”
Mallory stared at him.
“Harry and I,” Sven said, “are still trying to formulate our approach to this issue and there are still too many inconsistencies to present it to the public. This is a very sensitive issue and I ask that you not go into any detail about it. When Harry and I have something that can be presented to the public on this, I’ll make sure you get to come out with it first. But we’re not ready for that right now.”
“Okay,” Mallory said. “Understood. Thank you for offering me first crack at it. Let’s move on to something else.” Mallory shuffled through her notes. “You mentioned the New York City Outbreak Readiness Public Forum earlier. Can you tell me some more about that?”
“The New York City Outbreak Readiness Public Forum is an internet forum that we are using as a town hall to discuss and post all outbreak preparedness information. It’s also where the early warning system will be, once that’s finalized. Apps that are compatible with all mobile devices are available for download so that users can get updates and notifications directly to their phones. Judging by the number of app downloads—well into the millions—I think we’re doing a good job of spreading awareness and getting people to prepare.”
Mallory took out her smart phone, touched the screen a few times, and turned it around to show Sven. “I have the app on my phone.”
Sven nodded. “Me too, and we recommend that everyone download it and get familiar with it. If another outbreak does happen, transmitting information quickly and maintaining contact with each other will be the key to saving lives.”
“Is there any chance of a loss of internet access or electricity?”
“No. As to an affirmative shutdown of communications or power by any governmental body, we’ve received assurances that won’t happen, and we as a city certainly won’t do it. As to power or other infrastructure failures that are caused in some way by the outbreak itself—either due to damage to our infrastructure or loss of manpower operating it—we’re putting multiple backup systems in place to make sure that, in the event of an outbreak, we all stay online and actively communicating.”
“That’s very reassuring,” Mallory said. “I’d like to switch tracks once again, if you don’t mind.”
“Please,” Sven said.
Mallory bit her lip. “What do you think of the use of the term ‘zombie?’”
Sven looked at her, sighed, and returned his gaze to the figurine on his desk.
13
THE LUCKY CHARM MOTEL, HAWTHORNE, NEW YORK
Milt picked a blood-spattered mozzarella stick from the carpeted floor and looked at it. He pulled a piece of flesh out of his teeth with his tongue and spat. Then he wiped his lips with the back of a sleeve and ate the mozzarella stick.
“Dear proprietor muse,” Milt said, “I thank you most kindly for these fried morsels that you have brought to me in tribute. I thank you also for the inspiration that you have stirred in me by your presence.”
The proprietor of the Lucky Charm Motel moaned and thrashed her arms slightly.
Milt looked at her, and he had to admit that her looks were much improved now that she was transforming.
“What a relief,” he muttered. “You were ghastly to behold before I intervened, or rather, before you inspired me to intervene.” Milt shook his head. “Be that as it may, I have some time to pass here, and I imagine that you desire to hear about my valiant quest.”
The proprietor moaned and turned her head violently away from Milt. Her neck cracked.
“Yes, I know that you do. Now that you have turned your head so that you may hear me better with your good ear, I shall commence. You must excuse me if I give some topics a rather shallow treatment. I will do my best not to repeat those things of which you are certainly aware by way of your exposure to mass media. And, you must further excuse me if I take a break to go across the street to acquire supplementary sustenance. The edibles that you so graciously provided to me are of sufficient quality, but they are lacking in quantity for a man of my superior bulk.”
The proprietor moaned, and Milt thought he saw a thin wisp of smoke escape from her mouth.
“Yes,” he said, “your cleansing has begun.” Milt sighed. “As you no doubt know from the news coverage, Charlottesville, Virginia was the staging area for the next phase in the evolution of the human species. Most people, of course, could not be evolved by the virus and so they succumbed, but that is a necessary part of evolution. In me, however, by virtue my superior genetic material, the virus had its intended synergistic effect.”
Milt shook his head. “I do not mean to confound the issue, but what I just said was not wholly accurate. You see, dear proprietor muse, death is certainly one of the effects that the virus intends. Most humans cannot be transformed by the virus, and so they must die or eke out an ephemeral existence as rapidly-deteriorating evolvers. I call them ‘evolvers,’ because that is exactly what they are: they evolve those with whom they come into contact.”
The proprietor flipped over and moaned.
“It is quite stimulating to reflect on my former self and my mode of living, before I was enhanced into the being who sits beside you now.” Milt shook his head ruefully. “I understood so little then. My behavior was so preposterous as to seek refuge from the virus. I can hardly believe such a thing now, in hindsight. I know that I cannot place blame on myself for the way that I acted, for I was acting on information that was both imperfect and incomplete. I did not know that the virus bore such a gift, and, reacting to the sight of decaying, walking flesh around me, I did what my primitive mind drove me to do: I resolved to vanquish the monsters.”
Milt sighed and considered a grease stain on the carpet. “I committed a number of atrocities during th
e Virginia outbreak: acts of which I am ashamed.”
The proprietor moaned and thrashed again.
“Yes,” Milt said, “You must understand what the virus does, as I have come to understand it. It is amazingly delicate. The virus puts into motion a process of winnowing by which it chooses the strongest among us to survive as evolved beings. Now I understand that evolvers—all of those who are touched by the virus and appear to humans as ‘zombies’—are never to be killed, but at the time of the Virginia outbreak, I still saw the world through the rough, semi-transparent veil of humanity...and I…I killed some of the evolvers, and I shall always regret that.
“When I first met Sven and his misguided compatriots, I was more than willing to lead and care for all of them. They were to be my very own troupe of refugees. I had even gone so far as to allow Sven’s infernal cat, the sneaky beast, to remain inside with us throughout the outbreak. I did this for the sake of cooperation and against all acceptable notions of propriety.
“A cat, inside with us, during a viral outbreak the likes of which had never been seen outside of apocalyptic comic books, movies, and video games? The mere idea of it was outrageous, and, I should add, treacherous as well. Cats are not creatures to be trusted, least of all during the progression of a human calamity. Apparently, it seemed that among the group, I had been the only one to receive that most vital of memorandums. The rest of them were completely oblivious to the problem that the backstabbing beast presented.
“I allowed this extreme unseemliness, in the interest of group cohesion. However, following that, there had come a point past which I would not allow myself to be pushed. Permitting the cat to slink around within the Wegmans was one thing, indecent though it was, but allowing Evan, a carrier of the virus, to remain inside and threaten the survival of all of the refugees, including my own survival, was utterly unacceptable. The idea was itself nauseous—offensive even to contemplate.”
14
“Now,” Milt said, “please remember that this interpretation of Evan’s infection and my acts that followed were a direct result of my primitive worldview, prior to my own infection and upgrade by the virus. What I did then, I did pursuant to the human and World of Warcraft moral codes to which I was subject and gallantly upheld, provided that there was no conflict between said moral codes, and in the event of any such conflict, that the World of Warcraft moral code was to prevail. They were the only moralistic systems that I knew.”
Milt sighed, spraying bits of onion ring breading on the carpet. “I took matters into my own hands and killed Evan to protect the other humans from their own sentimentality. They could not bring themselves to admit that Evan was infected, because they had rescued him and they were attached to him. They were being completely irrational, allowing their own chances of survival to dwindle by way of inaction. It was perfectly clear to me that the boy was going to be our downfall, and that he was going to bring ruination tumbling down on all of us who were in the supermarket.”
Milt looked at the proprietor, who was making shallow writhing movements on the carpet.
“What followed,” Milt said, “was my ostracism at the hands of Sven and his troupe for my attempt to prolong their uninfected lives. They made me into a pariah within the very refuge that I had fought so diligently to capture and secure for our collective benefit.
“I did not argue long with the foolhardy individuals who were becoming, in many respects, my captors. There were many of them against the one me, and they had no desire to listen to reason. So I accepted my isolation with the remaining tatters of my dignity and found an aisle in which to rest, one that I thought would not be frequented by Sven and his disciples.
“And there I was, minding my own business as I selected foodstuffs with which to fortify my great body, when, lo and behold, I find that Sven has permitted yet another infected individual entry into our supermarket sanctuary. I wish I could honestly say that I was shocked by this to a greater degree than I actually was, but, given Sven’s previous behavior, I virtually expected our new guest.
“I knew then that I would have to take action once more to maintain the safety of our shelter. The infected intruder of the hour was a chain-smoking, mustachioed, skinny man.” Milt frowned. “Though he smoked at least as much as you do, his skin had nowhere near the leathery quality of yours. Perhaps it was the brand of cigarette that he preferred. I know not.” Milt shrugged. “No matter. The point is, I subdued the man with a jar of pickles and dragged him to the roof of the supermarket. From the roof, I tossed him down to the evolvers who awaited in the parking lot below.”
The proprietor of the Lucky Charm Motel sat up abruptly. She faced Milt and her sunken, black eyeballs stared at him—or at nothing, he couldn’t tell.
Milt raised his eyebrows, and then nodded. “Yes,” he said, “it is quite an amazing tale.”
The proprietor moaned, emitting a dim curl of smoke from her mouth.
Milt interpreted the guttural sound as agreement and went on, “The evolvers gladly accepted the emaciated, mustachioed, vaguely human-shaped chimney of a man who I tossed down to them. He was, after all, in the process of becoming one of their own.”
Milt shook his head sadly. “I did this deed, as I had killed the evolver child, under a misunderstanding of the events that were unfolding around me. I was doing it to protect the group of human survivors, a purpose that was ostensibly aligned with the purpose of said group, and yet, for these valiant acts, this same emotional, unintelligent group mobilized against me and exiled me to the evolvers.
“In an ironic parallel of fate that I now very much appreciate in its design, Sven threw me from the roof of the supermarket to the evolvers who awaited below—who I still understood to be ‘zombies’—just as I had done to the chain-smoker earlier.
“Now, of course, I understand that I should never have killed any of the evolvers, for that sets back the progress of the infection. I did not yet understand that when I awoke, transformed in the woods, at the end of the Virginia outbreak, and it was some time before I understood that the virus was something to be welcomed and sought. The virus, it seems, required some time to bore its way into my brain and permit me to see the world as it should be seen.”
Milt grinned. “I remember coming to following the outbreak. I regained consciousness in the woods, a transformed being racked by thirst. At once, even before I had found a means of hydrating myself, I began to relive the events of the Virginia outbreak. I understand now that my evolving mind had been searching for a framework by which to understand what had happened. Finally, it gave up trying to apply an existing framework, and built a new one from the ground up. But that did not happen until I found some water, left the woods, returned to my basement lair beneath my glorious storefront, and beat the dehydration problem into ultimate submission.
15
“Please accept my pardon,” Milt said. “I am once more getting ahead of myself. I shall endeavor with greater resolve to tell my story in sequential order, a feat that is difficult for me given that my mind functions most naturally and efficiently within the realm of abstraction—a state that is incomprehensible to most humans. After I awoke, I remembered the welcome that the evolvers had given me when they carried me through and out of the Wegmans parking lot. The sting of Sven’s betrayal dulled at once, and was replaced by triumph.
“The evolvers nibbled—quite delicately—on my savory flesh as they carried me off, and…in their clutches, I found the kind of acceptance that I had prior to that time only seen portrayed in movies. I knew then, even as reality reeled around me, that I had found a group that I belonged to, and that accepted me, without question, as its leader—the hero who would further said group’s interests. I knew then, that I was finally going to a place without shame, where I would be respected for my multi-faceted prowess, a place outside of the basement beneath my store, and even outside of the store entirely. On remembering this, I was filled with joy, and pride…and thirst.
“I found some
water in the woods, which allowed my body to regain some functionality, and I returned to the strip mall where the Wegmans and the comic book shop were—to my strip mall. I made my best effort to find my replica Sword of Crom, the one that the slovenly beast Sven—at that time I still thought of him as such—had thrown from the roof of the Wegmans in an acerbic ritual common among slovenly beasts of his sort. Alas, I was unable to find the sword anywhere in the parking lot, and, hastened by the rapid onset of near-incapacitating dehydration, I gave up my search and returned to my comic book and video game store.
“There I descended into the shelter of my basement lair beneath the storefront. I was much relieved to find that everything in the basement was as I had left it, with no trace of evolvers having run amok or humans having sought refuge in my home.
“I proceeded swiftly to the bathroom, turned on the bathtub tap, climbed into the tub, and lay soaking in the cool water for hours. I had never enjoyed being in water so much. Truthfully, I had never taken a bath before in all of my adult life. Following my soak, I left the confines of my fiberglass watering hole and went over to my basement computer. I sat down and made an effort to apprise myself of the world events that I had missed during my slumber. At that point, I did not know for what length of time I had been indisposed.” Milt shrugged. “I am still unsure of that now, but it was likely to only have been for a few days.
“I found that the blasted internet still did not function, so I began to formulate my revenge, which, at the time, I still framed as revenge, because I did not yet understand my role as the bringer of the final evolution. After only a short while at this task, my joints stiffened, and my insides and my brain ground to a sandy, gritty halt so violently that I barely managed to jerk and twitch myself back into the tub.”
“There, in the water and having regained my presence of mind, I understood that my first task would have to be dealing with the water problem.” Milt stuck his tongue out in disgust. “I must admit that before my evolution, water and I did not share the most loving of relationships. I had always considered water to be a useless fluid devoid of any nutritional value, an over-promoted health fad at best, and a dangerous carrier of unknown neurotoxins at worst. I had always suspected that water carried within it substances of yet-undiscovered neurotoxicity, for I had confirmed, time after time, that when I partook of this supposedly life-sustaining substance, it dulled my mind, and, to add insult to injury, my wit as well.