by Jack Wallen
“That makes no sense. Evolution cannot possibly work that quickly.” Jean’s voice was a mere ghost as he focused on the hyper-evolved zombie. “This simply cannot be.”
To this point I thought we had seen the last of the effects of the virus on the human condition. This monstrosity proves that theory very, very wrong. These things had, within the span of weeks, developed to be more efficient killers. Although I could find a sort of beauty in the design, an elegance in the execution, the overriding thought was terror. How can we possibly fight or eradicate a virus as intelligent as this?
Mankind is going to lose this fight.
Without swift and bold action we stand no chance. My brain zipped back to a quote from Star Trek: The Wrath Of Khan. “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” a dying Spock’s voice cracked as he said the famous words to Captain James T. Kirk. Even the most hard core Trekkers knew it was the right choice – Spock’s death be damned.
I had to make such a choice. I had to let the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one…me.
“Jean, you have to test the vaccine on me.” The words frightened me as they left my mouth. But subtle undertones of truth and resolve gave those words the strength they needed to come to life.
“Bethany, we don’t know how that might affect you,” Jean said, attempting to change my mind. I would have nothing to do with his ploy.
It didn’t take long to help Jean to realize this was our only chance at survival. I had already been given the vaccine and displayed no signs of ill effect. It was time to take this one step further to see how the vaccine reacted to actual infection. I had to be infected. And what better subject than one at the ready?
Jean tried to discourage me with thoughts of the baby growing inside of me. Although I briefly allowed the emotions and images to toy with my decision, I ultimately realized if we didn’t do something soon there would be no world for this baby to be born into. This had to happen. It was a risk that benefited the greater good. The needs of the many…
When Jean finally understood there was no changing my mind, he informed me it had to be done immediately, before the contagions had a chance to begin to die. The beast had already been dead a while, so there was no telling if the blood still contained any living virus. Jean assured me, based on what I had no idea, that we still had a short window of time remaining, so he rushed back to the room to collect the implements necessary for the procedure. While he was gone, I opted to stand and stare in silence at the monster I was about to become biologically intimate with. The diseased blood of this mutation would soon be coursing through my veins, my only hope for survival a vaccine cobbled together from the notes of two genocidal mad men.
Concerned? You bet your sweet ass.
“Bethany, I have everything I need,” Jean startled me out of what could have easily spiraled into a pit of hopeless despair. “Are you –”
“Yes, Jean. Now let’s do this before I’m not so sure.” Even as the words left my lips the level of assurance dropped a few ticks.
“In an ideal situation I would use the proper tools to separate the contagion away from –”
“Jean, I appreciate your concern, but what we are doing is well beyond protocols, standards, and any semblance of safety. We’re not even breaking new ground here. This is nothing more than a Hail Mary or a shot in the dark. Neither of us have any idea if this will work, but ultimately it either will work or I will die. Now, seriously, before I change my mind.” I think that lecture was more for me than for Jean. Maybe I was trying to talk myself out of this insanity. As little as there seemed to be to live for, I didn’t want to die.
Jean drew a vial full of blood from the dead mutant zombie and walked the tube of death over to me. I could see the nerves manifest themselves in the steady streams of sweat pouring down the man’s forehead and cheeks.
“Bethany…”
“Just do it, Jean.” The poor man was about to come undone by fear. There was nothing to be said that could ease his mind, nothing to calm or assure him everything would be all right.
Ironically enough, Jean actually took the time to clean the crook of my arm before he inserted the needle. It seemed to me such a pointless gesture, but I happily appreciated the gentle respect it offered. Finally, when the needle entered my arm it was as if everything around it decided to pause. Time simply ceased to be for a moment. I knew it wasn’t literal, but the fear of the unknown placed a very immediate moratorium on my existence as the foreign blood was released into my body.
I really wasn’t sure what to expect. Would an instant transformation overcome me, or would it be slow and terribly painful?
“You can open your eyes now, Bethany.” Jean placed a warm hand on my arm. His touch was so caring. The man had to have been one of the finest doctors in all of France. “It’s done.”
When my eyes opened they instantly met Jean’s. Tears threatened the floodgates, but none came. Time once again started rushing forward at what seemed like an exponentially fast rate. My life was most likely racing past me to converge on the very moment that would finally see my own personal Hyde come out to play.
“You might suffer a few side effects as the vaccine attempts to fight off the virus. Let’s just hope it’s nothing more than a sulfa-based antibiotic fighting off the flu.”
“You don’t know for sure?” That might have been one of the dumbest questions that has ever dribbled from my mouth. Of course Jean didn’t know for sure! Everything we were doing was well beyond experimentation.
Jean’s voice seemed undercut with fear and sorrow, “I would never have done this without your insistence, Bethany. What we did goes against my very nature. But most of all –” The sorrow began to take control of Jean’s voice as he choked up, “most of all, if the world loses you, it might well lose all hope.”
“Jean, nothing is going to happen to me. I’ve fought moaners, screamers, and…this thing.” I pointed at the monstrosity in front of us to help drive my point home. Although this particular example wasn’t such a strong declaration of my ability to overcome adversity, said adversity would have easily swallowed my head whole had it not been for the inexplicable dead-on aim of Jean, it did serve as a reminder of all that I had overcome.
“But even still, to tempt fate like that? Isn’t that a bit reckless?” Jean offered a halfhearted smile. “We should return to the others before they grow concerned. And you need to lie down and get some rest. I have a feeling you are going to need all of the strength you can muster.”
That last bit had enough ominous tone to fuel every engine in Hell. The goose bumps it brought up on my skin were exacting proof how frightening this all was. I had made myself an undead guinea pig. Suck on that, reality.
Back at the room, everyone was standing or sitting around Mikka’s bed, chatting. It seemed our last surviving patient (not counting myself of course) was showing certain signs of recovery. Mikka was actually eating, drinking, being merry.
When Michelle saw me enter, she rushed over and very tightly wrapped her arms around me. The girl had some serious grip for such a waif. When she pulled back, she gave me a smile that said although she agreed with what I did, she still thought the act was stupid, selfish, and yet still heroic.
Heroic. Not a word anyone would have associated with me until now. Nothing I had ever done was heroic. In fact, to this date, everything I had done was the opposite of heroic. I was a hacker. I worked in the shadows, behind computer monitors and firewalls, attempting to anonymously bring down corporate machines and large business networks. Why? Because I could, and because information longed to be free. Although there are certain circles where that sentiment did elicit heroic imagery, from my current vantage point, my past was nothing more than a stepping stone for much greater things. Unfortunately said greater things involved healing an apocalyptic wound inflicted upon mankind.
My mind needed distraction, otherwise every thought firing across the synapses in my brain would only add to the fear
and paranoia that at any moment my personal zombie was going to make her first appearance in this ugly-ass world.
Distraction, sweet distraction…
“If you’re just now tuning into Zombie Radio you missed what might have been the craziest human being to grace the airwaves. Let me recap: This young gentleman who goes by the name Zombie Thrillah calls in to say he wants to be the first human to willingly be infected and transformed into one of the undead on my show. Mr. Thrillah says he has tried every drug known to man and sought every possible thrill available. Apparently becoming a moaner on national broadcast radio is all that is left. To that young man, I have made a decision and here is that decision. Fuck you. Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you and everyone else who might be entertaining any similar ideas. This is not a joke. The world has not become some playground for every sick, twisted fantasy to be made real. We are fighting a war against an enemy the likes of which we have never before seen. This situation is not to be taken lightly. What you see around you, the gray ash covering the ground, the walking dead, the broken bodies littering the streets, the cries and screams for help – that hell is the new reality and it’s not some lame-ass television train wreck for everyone to gawk and laugh at. If you think adding yourself to the rank and file of the undead sounds like a good time, do us all a favor – deep throat a gun barrel and pull the fucking trigger. That’s all I want from the ignorant, unwashed masses. And, for your efforts, I dedicate this lovely ditty by punk princess fronted rock band Paramore, ‘All I Wanted’. Kick it sweets!”
When the music insisted itself upon my ears, I was surprised how much I liked it. I usually wasn’t into post-punk punk bands, especially those fronted by angry little princesses, but this one actually had depth of character that most seem to miss. Askew from my normal modus operandi, I actually allowed myself to close my eyes and let the melody just sink in. The song made me wish I had discovered the little gem during a time when music was more than just a distraction from impending doom.
The song came to a melancholy close, indicating it was time to move on to other tasks, one of which was email. The inbox was crammed with the usual SPAM and fan mail. Who would have ever thought SPAM would outlast the human race? At least the cockroaches will have plenty to read.
One particular email begged for my attention. The sender was none other than Susan’s mother – Senator Slaton. The subject was rather ominous: Trust no one.
The body of the email was no better.
Bethany,
I am writing you as a warning. You have much more than a virus or the undead to fear. What you are doing is counter to what a group of powerful politicians and businessmen are attempting to accomplish. I have tried to subtly inform you, but it seems those warnings went unheeded. I want to be very blunt this time, so there is no confusion. You saved my daughter and I feel it is my duty to return the favor. At this moment a group of mercenaries have been deployed to Paris to stop your work. They have been ordered to stop you at all costs. They will kill you and everyone around you if necessary. Although The Zero Day Collective would rather have you brought in alive, if that is not an option the mercenaries will be ordered to kill on sight. Please understand, I have no connection to this organization, but I am a very connected woman.
Hide yourself, Bethany. Do not let these men find you. The world needs you and your work. And seeing as how you have in your care the one thing on this planet that still holds any meaning to me, I need you safe. If I am to ever see my Susan again, you must disappear. Bless you.
Senator Slaton.
Pieces were starting to fall into place. There had been subtle signs here and there, but I chose to ignore them. Now it’s all starting to make perfect sense to me and there was one person I knew that had plenty of questions to answer.
“Okay, Zander, what the fuck is going on?” I marched into the room with a gun raised and the barrel pointing directly toward the man whose secrecy was about to be made public.
Everyone immediately scrambled to their feet and as far away from Zander as possible.
“Bethany!” Michelle cried out in surprise.
“Put the gun away, Bethany,” Zander said, raising his hands in a mock gesture of innocence.
“I suggest you shitcan the innocence and start telling me what the fuck is going on!” My voice raised to a level far more suited to the anger boiling in my veins.
Zander’s eye narrowed to slits. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I stepped closer to Zander so he would know there wasn’t a chance in hell I would miss. “Enough with the lies. I know all about The Zero Day Collective and their plans.”
“What is this all about, Bethany?” Jean’s voice of reason finally spoke up.
“Why don’t you tell them yourself, Zander? Or is that even your real name?”
Not a word from the man a scant few feet from death.
“Start talking you son of a bitch or I will shoot.”
Again, I was met with silence. This time I cocked the barrel of the pistol. I was losing patience fast.
“Okay, okay. Fuck!” Zander broke. His heart was racing and a bead of sweat instantly broke out on his forehead. “I was a plant at the hospital. There were plants all over Paris, instructed to wait for you and, if you arrived, gain your confidence until the extraction team could arrive.”
“What do they want?”
Silence.
“I said, what do they want?” I took another step forward.
“To stop you from developing and spreading the vaccination,” Zander blurted out.
“And where are they located?”
“I don’t know.”
“I would think twice about lying at this point.” I dropped my voice in an attempt to shake Zander up, make him think I was about ready to snap.
Which I was.
The sweat was pouring from Zander and his voice was showing signs of fear. “I really don’t know. Look…before we left the hospital I cut off my communication with them.”
“Why?”
“I am a trained soldier, so I do what I’m ordered and I don’t ask questions. But when I got to know you and saw how much you were willing to sacrifice…it made me reconsider my loyalties.” As Zander spoke, his eyes filled with what I hoped to be honesty.
“Do they know where we are now?”
“Not from me they don’t. Like I said, I broke off communication back at the hospital, and they never received word of our plans. So as far as I know, they have no idea where we are, but they have the means to find out.” Zander’s last sentence was like walking through a space in a room you knew a ghost had just occupied.
Chills.
“I don’t understand.”
“Look, Bethany, you have no idea the power the ZDC wields. They have everything they need: money, arms, soldiers, and they are connected to everyone and everything.” Zander finally lowered his arms.
“Bethany, who is Zander talking about?” Michelle finally broke her silence.
When the full disclosure spilled out of my mouth even I couldn’t believe the story. But there it was, just like out of some bad CGI-heavy Hollywood film, where a Big Brother-like umbrella corporation has some vested interest in spreading the zombie virus across the planet. That was the strange and twisted reality we were dealing with.
Ultimately, the real issue was, were we relatively safe in the new location? The question itself seemed a rather perverse logic to me. The location we chose should always be considered one of the safest of places. Like a church…without the child molestation, homophobia, and sexism.
I turned to my group, dropping the pistol from Zander’s line of sight. I couldn’t answer the question. I didn’t really know if we were safe here. In fact, the more honest question would be how long would we be safe here? There are no more definites. Everything is fragile and temporary. And for some silly reason, I chose to believe Zander’s story. I would probably regret that decision later, but I can’t just allow myself t
o default to not trusting my fellow man. Besides, if Zander were still communicating with the Zero Day Collective, they would have most likely have already stormed the fort.
“What were your orders if we never arrived?” I said, attempting to gather as much information as I could. If we were not prepared for every possible scenario, we would surely lose this war.
War. Listen to me. Senator Slaton was right, we do have bigger worries than the virus or the undead. We have a war to fight, only we have no idea who our enemies are. It’s time to change that.
“Zander, I need to know absolutely everything you know about the ZDC.” I made sure my tone carried the sense of urgency befitting our situation. I didn’t want there to be any mistaking just how fucked up everything was at the moment. “Who they are, where they are centralized, what means are at their disposal…everything you know.”
“Bethany, it’s not like I was an employee who attended weekly meetings and rubbed elbows with the higher ups. I was nothing more than a contract bloodhound. They point me in the right direction, I find you, I report back. That’s it. It was nothing more than a paycheck to me.” There was no desperation in Zander’s voice. Either he was speaking the absolute truth or was one cold son of a bitch.
“What are the extraction plans?” I wanted to smack him across the face for effect. I refrained. I shouldn’t have. That would have felt really good in the moment.
“Do you hear something?” Michelle interrupted the interrogation.
There really was no questioning what the sound was. The echoing screech clearly indicated our most immediate threat had breached the gates.
“Jean, we forgot to check where that Berserker entered the building, didn’t we?” And right there I named the latest genus of the zombie species.
“No, we didn’t,” Jean said, his voice filled with the very same dread that had just topped off my spinal fluid.
Before we could react the entire building seemed to vibrate.
“Okay, what was that?” Michelle was near panic.