by Katz, Gayle
Brie breaks the silence. “We resurrected him to help us communicate with the zombies. If we can talk with them, maybe they wouldn’t be such a problem. Hell, it was worth a shot, right? And with the cure we’re formulating-“
“A cure? You’re still working on that? It’s real?”
“Yes, a real cure. We’re hoping to develop one that will inhibit and reverse the zombie virus progression no matter what strain someone has contracted. It’s not so different from the flu virus. It evolves and the cure has to evolve with it. Maybe with the new cure we can even bring people back from the brink, save them, and make them human again.”
“You think that’s possible? What about the ones who’ve eaten people? Do you think most people can come to terms with something as horrific as that? Some of them might be too far gone.”
“You might be right, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give it a try.”
“They’re doing good work here, Jane. Give them a chance. I’m begging you,” Ben says.
“Give them a chance? After what they’ve done to me, the torture they put me through? Do you know what they did to me? Do you?”
“Yes. I wasn’t there personally, but I saw the recording.”
“The recording? Oh my god. They have a recording?”
“Yes. Of course. We record all of our experiments,” Brie says. “Why? Does that sound strange?”
“Yeah. It does. Because it’s me, that’s why! You duped me into coming here! I was trapped, helpless, and alone,” I say to her before turning back to Ben. “And what they’ve done to Jack, kidnapping him and setting him up with that fake clone of me so he doesn’t know I’m gone. I should be with my husband, but instead, he’s got a cheap copy. He doesn’t deserve that, and neither do I.”
“You’re right, but please try to understand that clones are as real as you are,” he pleads. “While we may be pure replicas on the outside, we’re still alive, still flesh, blood, and bone on the inside. You’re reacting and treating me just as you would treat the real Professor Benjamin Carter, but I’m not him. I’m his clone.”
“If what you’re saying is true, then you’re right, you’re not him. On the other hand, you were created from his cells, so how different can you really be?”
“I can’t answer your question. I’m not sure. I didn’t know the original.”
“I guess not, but you have his memories, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know what he did, how he acted, and the pain he caused so many people.”
“I do.”
“And now that you’re alive, you know how this plague has devastated and continues to destroy humanity.”
“That’s why we’re working on this cure, to save humanity from the zombie plague once and for all and help the world begin to heal. That’s all we want now.”
“Is it? That’s a nice talking point. And this cure that you’re developing here, it’s coming from the pain and suffering of more humans, like me. If you’re helping them, you must be OK with what they’re doing here, violating laws and committing god knows how many human rights atrocities. These things are OK to you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“What are you saying then? Do you condemn or condone what they’re doing here?”
“It’s a complicated situation.”
“No! No, it’s not. It’s pretty simple actually. I’m supposed to be with Jack and I’m not. You can call that thing - that replica - whatever you want, but she’s not me. She’s an imposter and everyone here, they’re liars!”
“Get it out. I know you’re angry. I also know it’s not a great situation, but think about it from their perspective. The best chance to formulate a cure is to take samples from a human who’s been infected and survived multiple times. That’s you. I’ll admit they didn’t go about it in the best way, but we’re all desperate to find a cure that works for everyone. The human race is at stake here and you might be its last hope.”
“Jack almost died. And I-I’ve gone through hell.” I choke out.
“I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But, because of your sacrifice, Brie and her team are almost there. It’s still in the testing stage, hence the reason for all of the zombies at the facility, but they almost have a viable cure,” Ben says.
“Almost?” I reply, looking at Brie.
“Yes.”
“How long until you know for sure?”
“We need a little more time for our latest formulations. Once they’re developed, then we need to run additional tests to prove it works with minimal side effects,” Brie says.
“How long?” I ask again.
“Soon.”
“Soon?”
“Please. We need you to be patient just a little while longer. You can’t rush something like this. You read Ben’s notes. You know that’s how this whole zombie mess started. We don’t want to make the same mistakes again and then the situation gets worse. Do you understand? How the cure mixes with human physiology is complex. Can you be patient? Can you do that?”
I look at both of them, close my eyes, cover my face with my hands, and shake my head.
“Do it for humanity,” Ben says and then pauses. “Do it for Jack. Without this cure, nothing will change and zombies will be the plague that leads to the destruction of civilization as we know it. Don’t stop here. Come on, Jane.”
I look up at him. “Do I really have a choice? It’s not like you’re going to let me walk out the front door and go home.”
“Probably not. At least not right now.”
“Fine, but you can’t lock me up anymore. I want to be free to move around, observe what’s going on, ask questions, and get truthful answers.”
“Sure. We can work on that. Anything else?”
“No more experiments. I’m not going to be anyone’s subject matter anymore.”
“OK. I think we’re past that point anyway.”
“And I want to talk with Jack.”
“No. That’s not possible, at least not yet. We can’t have you communicating with anyone on the outside right now.”
“And why not?”
“Well, first of all, Jack already has a Jane.”
“She’s not me.”
“You may be right, but Jack doesn’t know that, or at least we don’t think he does. And if someone found out you were here, they might try to rescue you and interfere with our plans. We can’t have that.”
“What if you explain what you’re doing, I’m sure the authorities would understand. The problem is everything here is under-the-radar and borderline criminal.”
“After everything that’s happened, you really think they’d let us continue our work? Not a chance. There’d be investigations, protocols, government oversight. Our research would come to a halt when government bureaucrats get their hands on it.”
“They might. They might not. But they also might not have a choice. If their scientists haven’t found anything or are at a dead end with finding a new cure on their own, they might actually welcome your research and work.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“You’ll never know unless you try.”
“And what happens if we try and we’re wrong and they don’t understand, then what? They’ll find out where we are, we’ll no longer be a secret, all your sacrifices, and everything we’ve worked so hard for will be lost. I don’t think we can take that risk. Not until we have something solid, viable to share.”
I look at the Professor. “What do you think? Is that how you feel too?”
“Unfortunately, yes. She’s right. You know she’s right, too. Plus, how do you think they’d react to me? It’s something from a bad horror movie. The insane Professor’s clone back from the dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Think about how you reacted when you first saw me. Just give her a little more time.”
“OK. Fine. What do we do now?”
“Now we get some rest. It’s been a long, stre
ssful day and I think we’d all benefit from some solid sleep.”
“I’m not going back to that cage. No way. We have a deal, remember?”
“Yes. You’re right. We do. Why don’t you curl up on the couch over there and get some shuteye? You should have some peace and quiet here. We’ll swing by in the morning when we’re ready to get started.”
I walk over to the couch and sit down. The cushions feel comfy, bouncy, but firm. Just right for sleeping. “This will do just fine.”
“We’ll leave you to it then,” Ben says, walking toward the door and pulling Brie out of the office with him. I hear him whisper. “Come on. Give her some space.”
Chapter 3
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Curled up on the couch with my head resting on the cushion, sleep doesn’t come so easily. There’s a scrambled noise playing in my head that won’t let me rest. I don’t know what it is or where it’s coming from. I try to concentrate on the ruckus in my head, hopeful I’ll eventually be able to decipher it despite it sounding like a cell phone with bad reception.
I feel like I hear voices, but I don’t know whose voices they are, nor can I understand what the voices are talking about. Are they talking to me? Maybe I’ve finally gone nuts? That could be it, but would an insane person think that they’re insane? The only thing I know for sure is that if these noises, voices, or whatever they are in my head don’t go away, sleep most likely isn’t on the agenda for tonight.
Being awake with this static in my head makes me wonder, what am I doing just lying here? I don’t think I’m siding with the enemy, but this doesn’t feel right. None of it does. Unfortunately, it’s not like I have much of a choice in the matter. Escape wasn’t an option with zombies, two Bries and her thugs, along with the Professor surrounding me. I guess I could have refused their offer, but then where would that have left me? Probably back in a cold cell or becoming a plaything for another mob of frenetic zombies. Neither are appealing.
I continue to toss and turn on the couch, eventually lying on my back, staring up at the dropped ceiling tiles above me. “Jack, tell me what to do.” I can feel tears running back toward my ears and hairline. “Jack…” I whisper into the darkness.
Hoping to tire myself out enough to quell the noise in my head and get some sleep, I try to count the number of tiles on the ceiling to take my mind off of the situation at hand. I can barely see them, which is what makes for a challenging game.
No luck. Though I’m exhausted, something is preventing me from sleeping. I hear a noise and quickly sit up. Looking around in the pitch black of the room, I think I’m alone. That is, until I hear footsteps and whispering outside the door.
“Brie!”
“Shhh! What? Not so loud. Do you want to wake the dead?”
“We need to talk about the plan.”
“Yes, yes. If you want to talk, let’s take it into the lab, OK?”
That’s all I could hear and understand. The whispers get softer until they fade into nothing. Is that Malik talking to Brie? What plan are they referring to? And why are they whispering and sneaking around in the middle of the night?
Curiosity gets the best of me and I decide there’s no point in trying to force myself to sleep. Instead, I get to my feet and softly tiptoe over to the office door. I press my ear to the door, trying to hear if anyone is still on the other side. Nothing. I open the door quietly and stick my head out into the hallway, peeking left and then right down the corridor to see if anyone is coming. Except for the dim lights illuminating the hallways, I’m alone. I decide to follow the twosome and see what all the hush hush is about.
I follow the corridor around, looking behind me every so often, paranoid that someone is watching me. I don’t need anymore surprises tonight. After thirty seconds or so of skulking down the hallway, I see a bunch of rooms with doors just a few more feet ahead of me. One of the rooms has a window facing the hallway with light emanating from it. The muffled sound of voices reaches my ears and I approach with caution. Walking slowly and watching every footstep, I see the seam in the wall where the opaque wall ends and the window begins. I hold my breath and carefully slide my face first against the wall until I’m able to peek in and see two people in the lab having a heated conversation.
Catching a brief glimpse of them together, my heart starts beating faster. Scared that they might see me and throw me back into the clink, I pull back behind the solid wall. However, the window only goes down halfway, so I stoop down and scoot underneath and over to try and get closer to the action. In an effort to hear what they’re saying, I cup my hands around my right ear and place them against the wall, hoping it might amplify sound. Damn! This trick probably works best with a glass. I can’t hear anything they’re saying. Without the proper equipment, all I can hear are their mumbles, and then nothing. An eerie silence.
Are they finished talking? What’s going on? What are they doing? Are they leaving? I can’t let them find me here. Curious as to why creepy Malik and Brie are meeting without Ben and now why their conversation stopped, I take another chance and peek through the window and see them embracing. I can’t see everything that’s happening, but I can see enough to know it’s not just your typical friendly hug either. Their relationship goes much deeper than friendship and involves some serious kissing and touching on what looks like a cold lab table. How romantic. Why would she kiss Malik when earlier in the evening she was trying to get cozy with Ben? Which Brie is this anyway?
Unfortunately, I’m not sure if there’s anything else I can learn tonight from their clandestine rendezvous without giving myself away. I duck down, keep my head low, carefully scooch back down the hallway, through the office door I left open, and lie back down on the couch. Beside the obvious romantic interlude, what were they doing in there? What’s their plan? I guess there’s always tomorrow. Yeah. I’ll find out then.
Chapter 4
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The office door slams open. Scared, I sit up and stare at the entrance, waiting for whatever opened the door to show itself. Their smell precedes them, but soon I see a handful of zombies stumble and crawl their way in. I get off the couch and start searching the desk for something, anything to protect myself. I find a letter opener and jump on top of the desk to put as much space as possible between me and the five zombies in the room.
Frozen and waiting for them to make the next move, a strange thought enters my mind. I notice the zombies aren’t making noises. They seem reserved and orderly in front of me. A calm feeling overtakes me and somehow, I don’t know why, the threat of them hurting me vanishes.
When I look at the first one, all I can hear in my mind is one word repeating over and over. “Help.”
Turning to look at the second zombie in the row, I can see her thoughts, or what’s left of them. She’s in bed with her husband when she notices he’s not feeling well. She puts her hand on his forehead. She knows her hands are cold most of the time, but there’s no denying he’s sweating profusely and burning up.
“Honey, let me get you some water and an ice pack to help you cool down, all right? If you don’t feel better soon, we may have to take you to the emergency room.”
“No doctors. I’ll be fine. It’s probably just some 24-hour bug.”
As she leaves the bedroom, goes downstairs to the kitchen, and returns with water and the ice pack, he’s still lying in bed. But now he’s not conscious anymore. His body is twitching. She runs over and tries to revive him, when his eyes pop open. “Larry! Larry! You scared me! What’s wrong?” she says.
He doesn’t utter a word in response and instead lunges forward to bite her arm. Despite the late hour, her reflexes are sharp. She backs off the bed and runs for the door, but in the time it takes for her to open it, he bites her neck five or six times, turning her into one of the undead even faster.
When I look at the other three, I feel them trying to communicate with me. So many thoughts entering my
brain at once, I feel confused, overwhelmed, and frustrated. What am I supposed to do with these thoughts?
I shake my head. “What’s going on? What are you doing?” I shout at them. “Why are you here telling me your stories? What do you want from me?”
Closing my eyes, I try to concentrate on communicating with them, hearing what they have to say. The others have their own stories. A postal worker infected when delivering mail to a family on his mail route. A teacher bitten by a child in her classroom. I can’t take these voices in my head all at once. How do I shut them out?
As I try to focus on calming my mind, the zombies in front of me get agitated and start reaching for me. Despite the darkness, I can hear their jaws chomping and I know exactly what they’re after.
Above them, still standing on the desk, I prepare to fight. With my newly found letter opener weapon in hand, I don’t want to kill these zombies, unless they force me. I want to cure them. Despite my empathy, they’re getting unruly. One of them bolts forward and tries to bite me in the calf. As I go to stab my attacker in the head, the handful of zombies stop, turn around, and leave the room.
Stunned and still standing on the desk, I quickly jump off and close the door behind them. Then I grab the chair behind the desk and prop it under the doorknob so no one else can enter the room without my permission.
Stressed out, I walk around the room until I get tired enough to close my eyes.
***
A hand covers my mouth and a man’s voice whispers into my ear. “Shhh.”
Startled out of sleep, I squirm, make a muffled noise, and try to get a look at the person holding me, but the darkness envelops him and conceals his face.