Life After: The Void

by Bryan Way

  “Noble.” Rich says as the reporter takes a moment to collect himself.

  “Our top story for the evening is an enormous explosion in southern Europe. Scattered reports emerged last night, and we have little recourse when it comes to verification, but numerous sources from Serbia, Moldova, and Bulgaria are reporting fire on the horizon and a cloud of black smoke several miles wide. It is believed that the Romanian government has authorized the use of an air-fuel bomb in the southern region of their country. Initial concerns of a nuclear detonation have been alleviated, citing Romania’s lack of a relevant program. Shortly after the reports, the remaining news media in Washington DC were quick to ask members of the President’s cabinet whether there could be a possibility of the United States using their nuclear resources to combat this scourge of the undead. The first available comment came from Secretary of State Colin Powell.”

  “Laboratory tests are underway to assess the effects of radiation on the undead. They have been inconclusive. I can assure you that the President will not resort to such drastic measures without knowledge that civilian populations would remain unharmed.”

  “President Bush has been unreachable for comment since his October 19th address announcing the adoption of martial law throughout the United States.”

  A video clip of President Bush at the White House press room podium is played.

  “It is with careful consideration… and under great duress… that I have colluded with congress… to announce a martial law throughout these United States.”

  “Vice President Cheney, who was absent from the address, has not been seen since at least October 15th, but sources indicate that the United States government continues to mobilize armed forces throughout the nation. More on this story… as we identify… future developments.” The camera angle changes. “As many of you know, we welcomed CDC epidemiologist Lon Miller to our station shortly before we initially went dark… Dr. Miller is the author of the fictional Alomal-137 Epidemiology Case Study and the world’s foremost expert in pandemic proliferation. At the moment, Dr. Miller is conducting research exclusively for US-AMRIID, the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases, and we would like to give him a moment to discuss his research. Lon?”

  “Thank you Mark. I am unable to speak about the research being conducted for US-AMRIID specifically, but I can tell you that the CDC is not able to report any information newer than that which was made public in the previous weeks. To date, the cause of the undead pandemic has yet to be discovered. Though it is impossible to rule out potential pathogens completely, the reanimation of previously dead bodies appears to occur without the presence of any previously known or unknown viral, bacterial, fungal, or prionic infection. Those afflicted by bites are often beset by Staphylococcus, Streptococcus, Enterococci and Pseudomonas aeruginosa, but the strains tested in cultures are unmutated… I… apologize if any of these terms are unfamiliar, but both myself and the CDC are hesitant to go into too much detail in public address since breadth rather than depth better befits a news broadcast of this magnitude…”

  He trails off, seemingly losing his place before collecting his thoughts and continuing.

  “…whatever the cause may be… there is a high possibility that the bodies of the undead carry a dormant strain of the syndrome. It has been shown that once the undead spread to an area, the bodies of the dead with whom they have had no prior contact are also returning from the grave.”

  “I was afraid of that.” Karen mutters. I expected it.

  “Now… it bears repeating that the bodies now transiting much of the globe are, in fact, dead… they no longer heal or rot as a normal body does, although several processes do remain unaffected as normal post-mortem bacteria appear unable to decay the tissues of the undead. The lack of cicatrization… er… healing… does not make them susceptible to opportunistic infections, but it does pose a rather dramatic advantage. Since the undead apparently cannot metabolize food, they cannot replenish bodily fluids and thus begin to desiccate… dry up. The precise nature of these mechanisms are unknown, and though they do not appear to dehydrate as quickly as a normal human body, their fatty tissues lose their water content quickly… sometimes dropping as low as 1% within two weeks. As a result, since most of the undead are wearing clothes, they are highly susceptible to what’s known as the ‘wick effect’, wherein desiccated fat ignites readily as fuel while the clothing acts as a wick, allowing their bodies to burn more quickly and completely than a normal human corpse…”

  “That’s why they burn so easy…” Rich mutters.

  “…still, it is greatly recommended that the undead not be engaged en masse… the culture surrounding Zombie films suggests to some that they are merely targets, but the reality is that large enough numbers have overtaken both military and paramilitary units more easily than previously imagined…”

  “See, Jeff?” Melody blurts.

  “…considering that they have crossed international borders, we can project an almost logarithmic increase in their overall numbers, and inasmuch as they cannot adapt, the simple fact that they cannot feel pain, heat, or cold is a key component of their endurance. In short, they are quickly becoming the dominant species on the planet. Our only advantage lies in our intelligence. It is estimated that every surviving human may be capable of killing an average of four during their lifespan, and provided that safety remains the first consideration, their projected population of between four and eight million can be greatly reduced by careful, considerate action.”

  “Thank you Lon. Now we go to our resident medical expert, Dr. Kimberly Sharp, who has more on the subject of undead physiology. Kim?”

  “Thanks Mark. Though the Bush administration will neither confirm nor deny these reports, it would appear that several varieties of chemical weapons, particularly nerve agents which had previously been outlawed by the Chemical Weapons Convention of 1993, have recently seen a limited run in the United States as a method to control the undead. The OPCW and UN have not officially signed off on the usage, but it is understood worldwide that proliferation should be controlled by any means possible. Reports independent of the CDC by medical professionals from various other agencies maintain a strong chance that the infection is being caused by prions, the proteins that have previously caused outbreaks of mad cow disease and Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, or CJD, in humans. Unfortunately, there is no known cure for these proteins, but unconfirmed sources at US-AMRIID remain optimistic that the problem can be approached from a viral standpoint. As Dr. Miller and I have discussed, the disparity of opinions from personnel at a variety of medical facilities should not be feared, but embraced. Put simply, we don’t know what this is, but until scientifically tested evidence pointing to the cause of this affliction emerges, different agencies will embrace different methodology until one approach provides conclusive results.”

  “Thank you Kimberly. Now, our assumption is that the majority of our viewers are outside the afflicted areas, protected in government sanctioned citadels, or have established themselves in a reinforced structure. The recommendations emerging from police and military engagements in urban and suburban areas indicate that it is absolutely vital that survivors not occupy private residences. Simply put, the psychological comforts provided by a normal living space naturally engage the desire to maintain a sense of routine and familiarity, particularly in regards to personal possessions of a sentimental nature. The urge to defend the false sense of security maintained by emotional attachment creates a risk too great to be ignored, in much the same way that feelings toward resurrected… er… reanimated family and loved ones increases the vulnerability of those who must face the reality that they have ceased to be the person they once knew…”

  I’ve heard the argument that private residences must be abandoned in the face of a Zombie apocalypse, but I’ve never heard it explained so successfully.

  “… as such, it is important that you make no attempt to reconnect with distant relation
s, and only travel to military bases or citadels if they are close enough to be reached by foot during the course of a single day…”

  “What the hell is a citadel?” Melody asks. We shush her.

  “…repeat, no formalized rescue operations are in effect in afflicted areas stretching from the Eastern Seaboard to the Midwest, however, military, militia, and paramilitary groups existing under the aegis of the government regularly patrol evacuated areas to seek out food, water, medicine, fuel, electronics, weapons, and ammunition… and in such operations, these groups have been reported collecting survivors for integration into the nearest citadel or protective internment center. Those being rescued are not expected to surrender weapons or ammunition, but will be required to assist in upkeep and preservation of their rescue center. In an attempt to avoid outright searches by military convoys that might potentially endanger civilians, the Secretary of State has urged that those surviving and in need of assistance prominently display an American flag or similarly colored rectangular banner in a window facing the nearest roadway in a manner that would place the stars on the lower right-hand side as seen from the street. Any passing convoy has been instructed to search such buildings… for survivors. Now… as winter approaches, it will be impossible for us to cull together the necessary information for localized weather predictions, but our station meteorologist Andrew Roberts has a few tips for those preparing for the cold…”

  Karen turns down the volume and turns to address us. A few people in the group protest, but Anderson, Rich and I manage to calm them. “Is the school insulated?” She asks. Everyone offers up a resounding ‘no’, and Rich steps up to elaborate.

  “It’s not, but it’s got a maintainable heating system. The oil reserves are gigantic… after the Cuban Missile Crisis they turned the school into a disaster relief center, so it’s designed to be self-sustaining for a while. We can probably make it through two winters, provided we keep the heat low… it hasn’t been cold enough to fire it up yet, so if we use it right, we can stretch that…”

  “Okay…” Karen adds. “We’ve got plenty of warm clothes, blankets… while the electricity holds out we can use space heaters, and we’ve got some kerosene units…”

  “Not to mention hot chocolate and hugs…” Mursak adds, giving us a much needed laugh.

  “It’s important to remember to bundle up if you’re cold.” Rich continues. “Our heating oil supply is big, but not infinite.”

  “What about the militia thing?” I ask.

  “What about it?”

  “What do we do?”

  “We join them …” Anderson says. “Obviously.”

  “If they’re militia, can you boss them around?” Rich asks.

  “Not the same thing. If they’re all civilians and none of them have military history, I technically outrank them.”

  “Okay… well… am I the only one who thinks we should stay here and keep quiet?” I ask.

  “Why not just get rescued and taken somewhere safe?” Jake asks.

  “We spent two months reinforcing this place. We have tons of supplies, room to grow, a television, electricity, heat, plants, weapons, food, water… could they take us somewhere better?”

  “Does someone wanna tell me what a citadel is?” Melody asks.

  Everyone looks at me.

  “Uh… it’s like a city that’s also a fortress.”

  “So what are they talkin’ about?” Melody continues.

  “I don’t know, they didn’t say.”

  “So, like, you think they turned Philly into a fortress?”

  “…they didn’t say.” I repeat.

  “All the same…” Rich starts. “Tell me… what’s the harm in lettin’ the army know we’re here?”

  “I… could think of a thousand reasons…”

  “I’m listening.”

  “What if they won’t let us stay?” I ask. “Do you really want to be in a city with hundreds of thousands of people?”

  “What if they like what we’ve done and decide to move in?”

  “So, what, they take charge? Do you want a hundred people in here?”

  “Right…” Rich continues. “But we’d have a direct line to the latest news, and we wouldn’t have to worry about protection. I hate to break it to you, but most of us don’t have a lot of advanced survival skills.”

  “I do…” Anderson starts. “I know…”

  “… I know…”

  “…plenty about…”

  “… I know, I know…”

  “…how to survive…” Anderson continues.

  “Yeah, but I’m talking about important skills…”

  “I know plenty about…”

  “Can I finish?” Rich blurts. “We talked about raising crops… but does anyone honestly know anything about that? Soil density, water regularity, re-seeding?”

  “We’re working up to it.” Ally offers.

  “I know we are…” Rich continues.

  “…that’s really the best we can do. We can’t quit carbohydrates and refined sugars cold turkey…”

  “You’re not… telling me anything I don’t know…” Rich spits, rubbing his forehead. “I’m saying we have zero practical experience…”

  “Are you saying they will?” Melody asks.

  “…I don’t know for sure, but…”

  “That’s my point…” I interrupt. “Anyone here heard of the Fermi Paradox?”

  Jake quickly raises his hand, but the rest of them give me blank looks.

  “It addresses whether or not we’re alone in the universe by assuming that intelligent life should have colonized, visited, contacted, or been detected…”

  “Blah blah blah…” Melody interrupts. “…what?”

  “…fair question.” Anderson mutters.

  “Fine… simply put, what are the reasons we’ve never found another intelligent species? One solution is that they’re out there listening, but not talking. Space is gigantic, and while it’s possible that there are friendlies, it’s just as likely there’s something dangerous… you don’t shout for help when you’re alone in the jungle.”

  “…why not?” Melody asks.

  “So…” Karen interrupts. “What do we do?”

  “Hang a flag in the window…” Rich says.

  “Yeah…” Anderson agrees.

  “I object.” I say, shrugging.

  “Well, you’ve just been outvoted. Sorry.” Rich offers flatly.

  “No you aren’t…”

  Rich steps forward and Karen grabs his arm. I take a deep breath to avoid letting this become more heated than it needs to be.

  “You’re talking about the dissolution of the group…” I continue. “If we get picked up, there’s no more three-way leadership. And they’re just as likely to put Anderson back into circulation as court martial him. We’ve survived together two months… you really want to break that up?”

  “I think we just made that clear.” Rich retorts. “Two out of three. No ties. It’s over.”

  “…you’re talking about what we do with the rest of our lives, though… I think everyone deserves a say.”

  To my satisfaction, the group murmurs in agreement.

  “Every decision we make is for the good of the group…” Rich continues. “We reason it out, we decide…”

  “Okay… I get it… you want to shut me up? I have a proposal: put it to an open vote. Everyone in the group, majority rules. If you and Anderson don’t think they deserve a vote, I put it to rest right here and we put the flag in the window.”

  Rich’s stare could melt a lesser man. “Anderson?” I ask. Helen grabs his arm and I have to suppress the urge to grab her face to shove her away. Fortunately, his answer comes before she can intimate her concerns.

  “Put it to a vote.”

  “I guess I’m outvoted…” Rich says, theatrically tossing his arms in the air.

  “Okay, so… Rich isn’t happy… I have a further proposal… he and I make arguments on the pros a
nd cons of staying.”

  “Done.” Anderson states.

  Rich turns as though the suggestion has poisoned him, but, to my surprise, he capitulates.

  “Okay…” He starts. “But Anderson moderates. He times us, he listens, he’s the tiebreaker.”

  “Fair enough.” Anderson replies.

  “Let’s say we… take an hour, then meet back here?”

  “Done.”

  “Agreed.” Rich accedes.

  The group fractures and with little else to do, some return their attention to the TV. Rich taps me on the shoulder and motions for me to follow him into the ammunition closet. Once I’ve shut the door, he pulls the chain on the ceiling light.

  “Before we start, you know I respect you, right?”