The Undying Apathy Of Imogen Shroud

by White, Ben

  None of the others had so much as moved. Aaron grinned. "I can't resist that kind of joke," he explained. "It was just such a perfect opportunity."

  "Look," V-Cut said, after a second of silence, "we're heading for a side-exit, it's pretty clear of Zs, and we figure we can fight through any that get in our way, if we're all together."

  Aaron laughed. "Oh, you poor naive fools. You haven't been down to the first floor, have you? I have. It's where I was when this whole wonderful mess started. It's zombietown down there, population: plenty."

  "We'll take our chances," said V-Cut. Aaron laughed again.

  "You're not listening to me, there are THOUSANDS of them down there. Do you know how many people were expected to come to this convention? More than six thousand. How many do you think remain whole and unzombified? My guess is a number somewhere between eleven and eleven. So six thousand minus eleven equals certain death for anyone so much as sticking their nose down onto that deadly, deadly Level One."

  "Your logic is flawed," said Null, disinterestedly. "Six thousand predicted does not mean six thousand in attendance, and in any case that number would be for the entire day, not at one time. In addition, not everyone killed by the winds was reanimated. Some bodies were too badly damaged—"

  "The wind barely touched the lower levels," Aaron said, a note of irritation in his voice now. "On the first floor all it did was blow out a few windows and toss a few comics around, everyone down there was fine until the zombies came from the upper levels. Well, I say 'came', what I really mean is 'fell'. Rather amusingly, too. There's a trickle-down effect happening here, the lower you go the worse it gets—I mean, have you watched them trying to climb stairs? It's hilarious! And it's even funnier when they fall down them, which they do with endearing regularity, they have the most wonderfully serious expressions on their little faces as they tumble along. I've forgotten my point now—oh, the first floor, of course. Yes. You don't want to go down there, just trust me on that. Come with me instead! After all, I oh my GOD that is SPECTACULAR!"

  Everyone watched Aaron as he danced over to the outer edge of the corridor—the object of his delight was a small plastic container of sushi.

  "It's a PICKUP!" he crowed. "Do you see this? I'm not just hallucinating or something—no, you all see it too, oh AMAZING. Oh, this is just wonderful, I can't wait to see what kind of stat boost it gives me. Bwa-bwa-bwa-bwaaaa!"

  Aaron scooped the sushi from the floor and posed with it, holding it up over his head. Then he crouched down to further investigate.

  "How did this even GET here?" he wondered aloud, as he tore the plastic lid open. "Ooh, tuna mayo. There's nowhere in this entire complex that sells sushi, somebody must have brought it with them and carried it all through the killer winds and zombies like it was a precious baby, and then somehow they dropped it—oh, that's so tragic, I love it, I absolutely love it. Well, here we go!"

  Aaron plucked one of the pieces from the container and ate it as quickly as he could, barely even chewing before swallowing hard.

  "Do-weep!" he said, before adopting a rough, masculine voice: "Mmm I want some more!"

  Everyone stared at Aaron as he ate a second piece of sushi, then Trevor, V-Cut and HK all started talking at once:

  "We spent some time viewing all the available feeds—"

  "Why are you still sitting down? Is your leg worse? Can't you—"

  "Seriously, how'd you make that slicey-bat? Did you find a forge or something?"

  "Everyone QUIET!"

  Everyone looked at Zack, who shrank back at the attention.

  "Um," he said. "Sorry."

  "Imogen," Trevor said, firmly. "I apologise for everything that's happened. I'd like to offer—"

  "Wait a moment," said Cheena, speaking for the first time—she'd been standing at the edge of the corridor gazing out at the surrounding parks, but now she stared straight at Trevor. "You did not discuss this with us, you cannot simply offer—"

  "Hey, don't be cold, Cheens," said Keenan. "Of course we've gotta let Imogen and Zack come with us—"

  "They would slow us down," said Null. "They'd be more of a liability than an asset."

  "I dunno," HK said, "that bat looks killer—"

  "Would you shut up about that?" said V-Cut. He looked down at Imogen. "Can you walk by yourself? Show me."

  "She doesn't have to show you," Jen said. "Even if she can't, maybe we could build a stretcher or something—"

  "Oh yeah," said V-Cut, "that's really gonna happen. No way—sorry, Imogen, nothing personal, really it's not, I just want to survive this thing."

  "Look, let's just calm down," Trevor said, holding his hands out. "Everyone relax and let's be rational about this—"

  "I don't think anyone's being irrational," Chris said. He glanced over at Aaron, who was still scoffing his way through the sushi and muttering to himself. "Well ... out of those of us not currently pretending to be video game characters, at least. Why don't we be democratic about this? It may be the end of the world but we still carry the light of civilisation within our hearts."

  Keenan snorted. "Man, you talk some crap sometimes."

  "But it's entertaining crap," Chris said, with a gracious smile and the lightest of bows. "You must give me that."

  Trevor was nodding. "I don't think we can get fairer than a vote. I say we let Imogen and Zack come with us."

  "So do I," said Jen, smiling down at Imogen, who was looking at her hands.

  "I vote against," said Chris. He smiled at Imogen. "As 'V-Cut' said, it's nothing personal."

  "You wanted to bring her before," HK pointed out. "You said we could throw her to the zombies if we needed to escape."

  "I changed my mind," said Chris. He shrugged. "I'm fickle."

  "Yeah, no kidding." HK glanced at Imogen. "Um, but anyway ... I gotta say no too. Sorry guys, just ... y'know. The crazy sushi guy over there kind of spooked me."

  "I do not want her with us," said Cheena. "It is not personal, Imogen. If your leg was not injured, well ..."

  "I say she comes with us," said Keenan. "Bad leg or not. Hell, hope my legs hold out, now I know how you guys roll."

  Trevor looked at Null, who was standing apart with her arms crossed, regarding the proceedings with a quietly amused air.

  "Null? What's your vote?"

  "I don't care whether she's with us or not," Null said. "I abstain."

  "Okay, so that's three for and three against," said V-Cut. "Deciding vote to me, huh? Sorry, but—"

  "Forget it," Imogen said. She looked up at V-Cut, then around at the others. "Did you even ask me if I wanted to come with you?" She pushed herself to her feet, waving away Jen's silent offer of help. "I think your plan will get you all killed. I don't want any part of it."

  "Well," said Trevor, his voice gruff. "I'm sorry you feel that way—"

  "What a waste of time," V-Cut said. He started walking away. "Stairs are this way, I'm pretty sure. Come on, we're losing light." He stopped after a few paces, and glanced back at Aaron. "Hey, you. If you wanna come with us—"

  "After the chillingly cold way you just excluded these two wonderful young people from your group? For shame."

  Aaron bounded over to Imogen and Zack, offering the sushi tray—there were two pieces left.

  "I saved you a piece each—go on, take them! There. Consume and enjoy." Aaron flipped the now-empty tray away like a flying disc, sending it spinning out through the smashed windows. "Come, friends, my chariot awaits."

  "Imogen—"

  A cold glance from Imogen silenced Jen. None of the others said anything as Aaron led Zack and Imogen away.

  "What an unpleasant bunch they were," Aaron commented chirpily, after the others were out of sight. "Never mind, though, it's their loss—wait until you see my car! We'll be able to go anywhere, is there anywhere you want to go? First stop for me will be some kind of gun store, I've never even held a gun before but I'm excited to try one out."

  Imogen shivered a little at the tho
ught—she could see that Zack was also quietly horrified at the idea.

  "Am I going too fast for you?" Aaron asked, concern in his voice. "Just sing out if I am. Honestly, the attitude of those people—so you've got a bad leg, so what? You're doing the best with what you have, and I applaud you for it. I wouldn't worry anyway, they'll all be dead soon enough, I wasn't lying about the first floor, it's a nightmare down there. Trickle down ... is there a better term for it? Shamble down. Lurch down. Well, whatever. Probably somebody good at statistics could make an attractive diagram showing the time-floor-zombie coefficient or whatever the real terms are. Ooh, a matched pair! I'll probably get an achievement for downing these two—back in a jiff!"

  Imogen almost gasped as she recognised the zombies Aaron was going after—it was the boy and girl who had tried to mug her in the mall. She'd known they'd probably get themselves killed, of course, but seeing them in this state led her thoughts down unpleasant paths. She couldn't help but picture Zack as a zombie, or Jen in her armour—

  "THIS IS MY STOOOOOOOORE! What's that? You're charging your limit break? Too bad! You're dead before you can use it, oh, I hate it when that happens, you're right back down to zero—got any Phoenix Downs? No? Shame! Ah, except of course, those wouldn't heal you, they'd kill you in an instant!"

  Zack dragged his gaze away from the gruesome sight of Aaron crippling the zombies and looked up at Imogen.

  "Um," he said. "Is he ... um, you know ... is he crazy?"

  Imogen shook her head. "It really doesn't matter."

  "Woo!" Aaron was heading back towards them now. "No achievement, but oh well. Probably I need to kill an Aerith/Aeris zombie to get it—ooh, let's go find me an Aerith-ess zombie to kill! Well I say 'kill' but I haven't actually managed to get one to stop moving yet, I spent some time trying with a pleasantly petite one up on four—no arms, no legs, no head, and she was STILL wriggling around. Really, as far as zombies go these are pretty tough. That old 'remove the head or destroy the brains' gag turned out to be a pack of lies! Still, I suppose this way it's more fun, it'd be over too soon if you could just slice the top of their heads off or whatever. Anyway, let's go find me that Aeristh—"

  "There might be one downstairs," Imogen said. "In the parking garage."

  "Did you see one down there?"

  "I didn't not see one."

  "Your use of double negatives has thoroughly convinced me; let's go! All we need now is a way down, I'm sure there should be one around here, unless this building is hideously asymmetrical, which it is, but you'd think—and BY THE WAY, could either of you tell me why all of the entrances/exits to the carpark come out on this floor? Why not the first or second floor, hmm?"

  "This is the third floor?" Zack asked. "I thought it was the second, we went down on the second floor—"

  "You did?" Aaron sounded genuinely surprised. "Goodness. So there ARE other entrances ... I wish I'd known that earlier. It doesn't help me now, though. Oh well. Let's just get down there ASAP, MVP, TEOTWAWKI etc."

  Aaron fell silent, to Imogen's relief—she could feel the beginning of a headache in her temples—and she concentrated solely on walking. Her right leg ached—her left too, but that was just through tiredness. The ache in her right leg felt wrong, horribly wrong. I wonder if there are any doctors left, she thought. Or even nurses. Hospitals ... what will people do if they get sick? Just die?

  "Do you think this outbreak is just in this building?" Imogen asked, surprising herself. "Or the whole city?"

  "It's the whole country," Aaron said, offhandedly. "I found a radio on the lower levels but discarded it—didn't need it taking up an inventory slot, although I'll feel sick if they've been clever and made a seemingly useless 'info' item necessary to solve a puzzle. Apparently it's much worse up north, there's barely anything left. They think the south is in better condition. We're right in the middle here, the perfect balance between destruction and ... non-destruction, I suppose. Not too much structural damage, but plenty of deadites to beat up."

  Imogen's hands were shaking. She couldn't make them stop.

  "I suppose it could be the whole world, they didn't mention but it's a definite possibility. If it's to do with that wind—and why wouldn't it be—then it probably blew down from Asia. They're the ones doing all those kuh-razy weather control experiments. That probably means that China's goneburger, and Japan and Korea and Russia, and all the little countries, and if them then why not America and South America and Africa—basically all life is doomed and zombies will mindlessly wander the crumbling ruins of this once-proud world. Ooh, there's a stairway, yay! And a clear run to it, too. Lucky!"

  Aaron skipped over the broken glass and scattered comics to the stairway door, pulling it open with a sweeping motion and bowing for Imogen and Zack to go ahead. He gallantly waited the minute it took them to get to the door, then repeated the bowing motion.

  "After you, m'lady, m'lord."

  "Thanks," Zack said. Imogen said nothing. Once inside Aaron let the door close and trotted down the stairs ahead of them.

  "I'd offer to help but you don't seem the 'touching' type," he said, as Zack started helping Imogen get down the stairs. "I'll just zip ahead and see what I can see."

  Imogen heard the door below open when they were at the first corner, and by the time they reached the second turn Aaron was back and waiting for them.

  "No Aerisombies, unfortunately," he reported. "Mind you, I could only see a few dozen of the silly things from the door."

  "Is your car close?" Zack asked. Aaron grinned and nodded.

  "I have no idea," he said, still nodding cheerfully. "I can never remember where I've parked. This isn't where I came in, either. But I know it's somewhere in the middle, not up against a wall. The license plate is SOOPAH so I'll know it when I see it."

  Imogen let out a small sigh.

  "Oh, I know, it's not the best situation," Aaron said, as they rounded another corner, "but chin up! Tomorrow's sun shines brightest, or whatever. Anyway, I have a great plan. If it was just me on my own I'd be worried that the zombies would all mob me while I was doing my 'master of unlocking' thing with the key—this key!" he added, producing it. The mascot dangling from the key was, for some reason, a tiny cardboard box. "But since you two are here I thought that young Zack—Zack, Zack, short for Zachary? Oh, excellent. So, I'll give the keys to Zachary, like so—" Aaron held the keys out and Zack took them. "Good. Look, we're already on our way to success! He and I will go ahead, it'll be like an 'escort' mission—I know, I know, everyone hates those, but for this stage I just don't see any way around it. So, I'll protect The Zack, and The Zack will unlock my car—"

  "Don't you have a remote thing?" Zack asked. "There's a button here for it."

  "Yes. Yes, I really should've replaced the batteries when I had the chance, but there's no sense crying over spilled brains, is there. Ah, look, we can see the bottom already. Goodness, it's slow going when your leg doesn't work properly, isn't it? I couldn't play like this for long! Anyway, you won't have to worry about that soon, you'll be safe and comfy in my lovely car. Yes, that's right, your part of my plan, Imogen, is 'waiting'. You wait here and once we've got the car we'll come and grab you, probably picking up oodles of bonus XP for all the zombs we drive over on the way back. Then we'll all drive out the exit to glorious freedom!"

  "Um," Zack said. "Um, what about the barrier?"

  "Hm? Barrier? What is this 'barrier' of which you speak?"

  "The, um, the barrier at the exit. Um, blocking it."

  Aaron frowned. "Why on earth is there a barrier? Poor design, methinks! Well, probably we'll just drive through it—oh, of course. Yes, that makes perfect sense, it's because we NEED a car in the next part, so they make THIS part impossible to complete WITHOUT a car. Not exactly elegant but I suppose it gets the job done. So yes, we'll just drive through it. My car's quite big so I'd be surprised if we even felt a jolt."

  Imogen winced as they reached the bottom of the stairs. "I'm not sure—"
>
  "Imogen, it's okay," Zack said. "I'll be okay, I won't even get near any zombies."

  "I won't let them hurt him, ma'am!" said Aaron, saluting smartly. "Me and SlIceR here will take excellent care of your brother. Hm, that sounded a little sinister, actually. But don't worry, I promise he will never die. Shall we?"

  Without waiting for a response Aaron pushed the door open—Imogen could see more than a few zombies on the other side, none of them particularly close but all of them shambling forwards.

  "Hm," said Aaron. "They must have noticed me peeping out before. Oh well, it'll just make it more interesting."

  "Why are there so many zombies down here?" Zack wondered aloud. "It doesn't look like the winds even came down here—"

  "Oh, it's easy enough to imagine," said Aaron, airily. "Probably it's exactly BECAUSE the winds didn't come down here, panicked survivors storming down the stairs trying to escape, some of them carrying their wounded loved ones, a few died, came back, bit a few more—zombies are exponential, it only takes one infected to wipe out dozens in the early stages, that's a basic fact. Nobody sees it coming. Nobody except smart guys like me, of course. The moment I saw a shiny sweaty face and that icky yellow ichor dripping from eyes I thought, oho, here we go." Aaron glanced through the door again. "Do you know, I think my car might be just over there—in fact, I'm almost certain of it, I recognise that little black thing and that big ugly yellow thing. That's not so far at all, less than a hundred metres—this'll be a snap!"

  "You don't even need Zack," Imogen said. "You could handle those zombies by yourself. Having to worry about him as well would—"

  "No, no, I understand what you're saying and I would gladly do it all myself, but looking now I see that there are quite a few zombies out there and only one of me—I can so easily visualise a situation wherein I find myself trapped against my car, unable to both fend off the encroaching horses AND unlock the door. Did I just say 'horses'? I meant 'hordes', of course."

  "I can do this, Imogen," Zack said, earnestly. He was already tugging at his left glove. "I'll take this one off so I can use the keys more easily," he explained, as Imogen frowned at him. "I'll keep it in the bag, okay? Um, you should eat something, Imogen, and have some water too—"