He stepped carefully, keeping himself away from the walls and stepping over the pools of blood. He could not keep his eyes off each body he passed though, assuming every one would leap up at him at any moment.
“Dead just isn’t what it used to be,” he thought.
The first few apartments had plenty of food and clean clothes, which the group would need very badly with no water to clean with. But soon he found half full bottles of bleach under people’s bathroom sinks, and a few flashlights, which would make the evenings a little easier for everyone.
In the last apartment he found an old boom-box that was meant for compact discs, but had a radio as well. He hit the power button and smiled as the batteries turned the system on.
Static erupted from the speakers and Alex swirled the dial up, passing through the stations. When he heard nothing, he spun the dial down, slowly searching for any noise patterns. Nothing came from the speakers. He hit the power button and picked it up by its handle, carrying two bottles of bleach under the other arm and gripping a plastic bag full of gloves and sponges.
The group started breaking into two groups when Alex returned. Some became body disposers, tasked with hauling the bodies to the window at the end of the hallway and tossing them out. The other group became blood removers, soaking the blood out of the hallway floor and doing what they could to wipe down the blood splattered on the walls.
By late afternoon, all the bodies had been removed and even Omar had woken up. The group’s morale was obviously higher, and while Morgan had taken care of Omar that afternoon, she had also made dinner from canned fruits and bagels.
The meal was prepared and set out on plates and bowls when everyone returned to the clean apartment. They dropped their exterior clothes out in the hallway. Sitting around in shorts and t-shirts, with a cool breeze finally blowing in after the sweltering heat of the day, the group devoured the meal. They even managed to laugh a few times while they ate.
When the meal was done, Ethan started to put his dirty clothes back on.
Alex looked out into the hallway as he was carrying dishes into the kitchen and asked, “Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, there’s some bleach left and I want to see if I can get the blood out of that last apartment on the left. It doesn’t have much on the floor and it would be nice to not have to share a place with Frank.”
“I can understand that.” Alex shrugged. “You want some help?”
“If you want to grab the mop.” Ethan pointed at the mop in the kitchen. “Most of the blood is on the tile. I’ll grab the bleach.”
Alex nodded and set the dishes in the kitchen. He wondered, with no way to clean them, if he should just throw them out the window before they start growing mold. He really didn’t want to start throwing out his garbage already. He felt bad enough for going to the bathroom off the side of the rooftop, so he stacked the dishes neatly next to the unusable sink.
He snatched up the mop and started putting on his jeans that he wore while disposing bodies. Frank followed him down the hall, telling everyone he was ready to call it a night. Alex heard Mr. Peterson start arguing with Emma about staying with Morgan to help take care of Omar.
He said goodnight to Frank just as he reached the last apartment on the left, and heard a loud THUD, like something heavy hitting the floor.
“Oh shit!” Ethan yelled out.
Frank and Alex ran into the room, Alex holding up his mop like a weapon. They both looked into the kitchen and saw Ethan lying on the floor, his face and hands covered in blood.
“What happened?” Alex yelled, stepping closer to him, but unwilling to touch him.
“Oh shit. Oh shit, shit, shit!” Ethan said, touching the blood on his face to see how much was there. His hand was bare. The pair of gloves were lying on the counter. “I hadn’t even put my gloves on yet. I was walking across the kitchen to open the shade to get some light in here. I slipped on the blood.”
Alex and Frank just stared at him with their mouths wide.
“Oh my god, I have it all over me. It’s in my mouth!” Ethan started spitting the blood on the floor, and then looked up at Frank and Alex gasping out the words, “What do I do? What do I do?”
Alex stumbled backwards and looked behind him, seeing a clean curtain hanging in front of the window. He ran across the room and ripped the cloth from the rod.
As he handed the curtain to Ethan, he ordered, “Wipe it off. Don’t rub your eyes!” He turned toward Frank, suddenly getting a surge of aggressiveness. “Go get a bottle of water. We need to flush his eyes.”
Frank hesitated, not moving for a moment, and then pulled out his pistol. “We shouldn’t waste the water.”
“Oh shit, Alex.” Ethan was crying. “What the hell? Am I seriously going to get sick from this?”
Alex watched Ethan whimper as he wiped the blood from his face. It was thick, like blackened crimson syrup, as he smeared it from his smooth cheeks.
“It already got in my mouth,” Ethan said before spitting on the floor again.
“Frank! Go get water. We need to flush his eyes.” Alex tried to stay calm, but couldn’t help screaming.
“It’s a virus. It got in my body. I’m going to die, Alex!” Ethan’s eyes were gigantic and he spit tears when he screamed.
Frank pointed the pistol at Ethan, saying, “He’s right.”
Ethan screamed, cowering away from Frank’s pistol. “Please don’t kill me!” He continued wiping and spitting. Tears rolled down his face.
“Put your gun away!” Alex screamed, grabbing onto Frank’s arm.
Morgan ran into the apartment, Mr. Peterson right behind her. Mr. Peterson stopped at the door, looking into the kitchen and seeing the blood covered Ethan.
“Oh my god, Alex, is he going to-” Morgan grabbed onto his arm, digging her nails in like she did in the diner when they saw their first infected corpse.
“No, we haven’t seen anyone change into those things from getting blood on them!” Alex yelled. “We’ve never seen anyone get sick just from the blood. Nothing happens unless you die!”
Frank looked skeptical. “The folks on the radio were saying it was a virus. Viruses travel through blood.”
Alex shook his head. “No. Not all of them. We were only assuming…” His mind wandered to all of the apartments he and Morgan had raided. The splatter of blood from the corpses. The spray of brains. The gore covered bodies they both became accustomed to. He almost spoke out, letting people know he had been exposed to the blood and nothing had happened to him.
His own fears kept him silent.
Frank glared at Alex, speaking through his teeth as if Ethan couldn’t hear him. “It’s too dangerous. We can’t let him come back as one of those.”
“No, no. Alex is right,” Morgan said. “We don’t know anything for sure. You can’t just shoot him!”
“What do you want to do? Sit around and wait for him to get sick?” Frank yelled, “You want to wait for him to start chewing on you while you sleep? Or infect us all when he sneezes?”
“I am not okay with that!” Mr. Peterson’s voice shouted from behind them. He stood listening from the doorway.
“It will be fine, Mr. Peterson.” Morgan held up her hand, trying unsuccessfully not to roll her eyes at his outburst.
“It will not be fine!” He yelled, stomping into the room, waving his index finger back and forth in the air. “If that boy is infected, he needs to be outside where he can’t infect us! He’s one of them now!”
Alex was shocked by the man’s attitude. “One of them? We’re just speculating on how this works. None of us are doctors, and you want to throw him outside? You just want to kill him because it makes sense in your tiny little mind?”
“I don’t want him to infect me, or my daughter!” Mr. Peterson stood close to Alex, trying to stare him down.
“He stays in my apartment,” Alex said. “If you are that scared of him, you can go ahead and board up the door.”
Mr. Peterson
’s eyes squinted before he huffed out a puff of breath, blowing his mustache hairs out like a walrus. He stormed out of the apartment, stomping down the hallway, then slamming his apartment door shut.
Frank glared at Alex, spitting his words out from tight lips. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”
“When the hell am I not in danger?” Alex asked, honestly. “I’m not killing one of the only people I know is still alive. He stays with me. We’ll lock the door. Give me a gun. If he changes, then I’ll kill him without a second thought.”
Ethan whimpered at the idea.
Frank ground his teeth together, before finally holstering his pistol and saying, “You don’t get a gun. I’ve lost too many to people who flinched.” Frank began walking out of the apartment, but stopped at the doorway. “You need to accept the fact that the same rules as before don’t apply anymore, Alex. The quicker you change with the world, the safer you’ll be.” He turned his head, locking his squinty eyes with Alex. “It’s adaptation.” He walked out the door.
Alex looked at Ethan who was blinking his eyes to try to get the last of the blood out of them. He tried to offer words of comfort to Ethan. “There are flesh eating corpses outside, and I still find that guy scary.”
Ethan managed to let out a single chuckle. “Thank you, Alex. Thank you so much.”
Day 17
12:31 pm
Ethan had remained unchanged for over 24 hours. Alex swore to everyone outside the apartment that this was sufficient evidence he would be fine, but no one agreed. Deep down, Alex knew he might be wrong, and he was worried he would be risking everyone’s lives by opening the door.
Once the door had been locked and he realized he had sealed himself off from Morgan, doubts began to creep into his mind. He kept his baseball bat near, but tried not to treat Ethan any different.
Morgan had assured him that whatever this virus was, it wasn’t airborne. They had spent enough time with the windows open and on the roof out in the open air that they would have contracted something.
Alex knew that he had gotten blood on himself in the past, but paranoia told him he never had the amount that Ethan had gotten on himself. He had never gotten it in his mouth, or his eyes. He had always covered any scratches or open wounds. He reminded himself that no one acted any different until they were dead. The virus was only affecting people once they died.
“Maybe the virus didn’t kill them,” he thought. “Maybe the carriers had to do the killing.”
He recited these ideas over and over in his head, but he still hadn’t been able to sleep. His mind grew foggy with exhaustion. His vision was blurred and his thoughts dulled with slowness.
“You okay?” Ethan asked.
“I’m fine,” Alex said, stretching his back and opening his eyes wide.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Ethan complained. “I’m obviously not sick.”
“You can’t blame them, Ethan. They’re worried. The news kept using the word ‘virus.' Even if it was a buzzword, it ended up adding context to something we knew nothing about.”
“But it’s so obviously not a virus. You said it yourself: Zombies!”
“Right, well, what does that mean though?”
“It means it’s the end of the world, man!” Ethan was visibly excited, nearly flabbergasted that Alex didn’t already think the same way. “God’s pissed off and we’re paying for it.”
Alex hesitated at even beginning the conversation. “You think God did this?”
“Hey listen, I’m not some bible-thumping, right-wing type, but it’s sort of hard to ignore the signs.”
“I don’t remember zombies in the bible.”
Ethan frowned. “I’m pretty sure they’re in there.”
“I don’t know…” Alex let his argument trail off, seeing no point. Ethan was obviously going to believe what he wanted to believe.
“It totally makes sense if you think about it. We’ve been pissing God off for a long time now. It makes sense that he would do something like this.”
Alex tried not to show his annoyance with the idea. He may not have been going to church every Sunday, but he definitely believed in a higher power. When he heard people talk about religion like this it scared him. These were the same people who felt that somehow they had a special understanding of God and were more than willing to talk for him.
“Do you think it hurts? Do you think they can feel anything?”
Alex let out a heavy sigh, becoming frustrated with the constant topic. “I don’t think those things feel anything. Pain, sympathy, happiness, or sadness. Those things aren’t people anymore, Ethan.”
Ethan nodded, appearing to understand and agree. “I just wonder. When we die, when we change, what will it be like?”
“If we die, it wouldn’t matter,” Alex said plainly. “We’d be dead.”
“I know!” Ethan assured him. “I just wonder…”
Alex shook his head in frustration. Ethan was the same age as him, but acted years younger. It felt like Ethan was always asking the dumbest questions, always worried about the most insignificant things. These things were becoming more than annoyances in the too-small-of-a-room.
Ethan let a natural pause happen as he formed how to arrange his words. “I can’t believe you stood up for me, Alex. I’m not sure I can thank you enough times.”
Alex held up his hand. “Seriously, I’m just doing what I thought was right. I’m not going to just let us start shooting each other.”
“Yeah but,” Ethan said, his eyes squinting, “I’m not sure I trust everyone here, you know?”
“What? Like who?”
“Frank obviously has issues.”
“Yeah, but I can’t blame him for having problems dealing with this. There’s no right way to deal with this. Like I said: I can’t blame them for being suspicious. It only matters what they chose to do in the end.”
Ethan hesitated before asking, “Do you think he doesn’t trust me because of what I did to Omar?”
“No, Ethan.” Alex had seen how guilty Ethan felt about Omar, but Alex was too tired to reassure his self-confidence for him. “That was an accident. This is totally unrelated. Besides, Omar will be okay.”
“Okay fine, but that Peterson guy. He’s obviously messed up.”
Alex smirked. “Well, you might be right on that one.”
Both of them started laughing, inebriated from a lack of sleep. Alex tried to push the thoughts of annoyance with Ethan out of his head. He reminded himself he was simply becoming agitated because he was tired, and they had been in the same room for so long. Alex wondered if eventually everyone would get on his nerves.
Alex stood up and walked over to the kitchen counter where the boom-box sat. He pushed in on the power button and started turning the knob, slowing roaming through the static.
“Still searching?” Ethan called out, trying to sound sincere, afraid he would sound like he was mocking Alex’s quest.
“Yeah,” he yelled into the living room. “I just… if I had something to offer people. Something to let them know there were other people. That somebody was organized.”
“Wouldn’t that be incredible? Maybe God let some of us live. Like Noah. Maybe that’s what this is!” Ethan yelled his excitement. “It’s just a flood!”
Alex shrugged his shoulders, completely unwilling to approach any conflict.
“I’m so tired,” he thought
“Maybe. Maybe you're right. I don’t know. I just can’t imagine we’re the only group who survived. Odds are, someone is out there.” His finger finished the dial spin and he switched over to AM, rolling it back up.
“I’m sure someone is alive,” Ethan agreed. “I mean. I don’t feel special, ya know?”
As Alex hit the power button on the radio, with no luck finding anything other than static, the apartment door burst open. Morgan stood holding the doorknob on the other side, and her worried face looked up to meet Alex.
Pulling away from her excited gaze,
Alex saw Mr. Peterson standing in the doorway, looking steamed and saying, “This doesn’t make me feel any better. It doesn’t explain anything! He’s just a kid!”
“What’s going on?” Alex asked Morgan, who had a giant smile on her face.
“We were talking to Omar and he said-” She tried to catch her breath. “He said his dad never got bitten. His dad had a heart attack because he didn’t have his heart medication, and that’s when he turned into a zombie! That’s when poor Omar locked himself in his room!”
“So his dad wasn’t infected!” Ethan yelled.
Alex’s eyebrows scrunched up, his brain kicking into overdrive.
“What?” Morgan asked. “I know that look. What are you thinking?”
“I’m not sure it means Omar’s dad wasn’t infected.” Alex sat down on a kitchen chair, holding his head as it throbbed with the desire to sleep. “I think it means we’re all infected.”
Day 17
3:00 pm
Morgan peeked in the door to the bedroom and saw Alex climbing into bed. He had slipped out of his pants and was only wearing boxer shorts. His body looked skinny, but toned. She had never seen this much of him.
Embarrassed, she stepped away from the door for a couple seconds and then knocked.
“Yeah?” he called out, his voice weak.
“Hey,” she said, smiling and walking in. The sheets were pulled up to his waist, covering his lower half. She sat down on the edge of the bed with a sympathetic look on her face. “Are you okay?”
He rubbed his eyes and rolled over on his side. “Yeah. I just… now my brain won’t shut off. I mean, can you imagine if this is real. If we’re all going to become one of those things?”
“Alex.” Her fingers ran across his head, her fingernails scratching him lightly. “Even if it is true… we’re still alive. Nothing is going to happen to us.”
“We’re going to die eventually. I mean it’s inevitable. Someday I’m going to be walking around like one of those things.”
After Life Page 9