Apocalypsis Immortuos | Book 1 | Syndrome

by de Hoogh, Marco

  We were too.

  It was then that mama said, ‘No more tv.’ So, we sat at the kitchen table. After supper we stayed there. We played board games all evening. We had a lot of fun that night, and all of us laughed a lot. We forgot about the troubles in the world, until we went to bed that night. I remember hearing sirens.

  That next day papa stayed home from work as well. We were glued to the television all day again. We were excited to hear about the safe zone, as we were all feeling fine. When we heard about the war between India and China, I remember Jose being worried about our neighbors. The Patel family lived a couple of houses down from us. Mister Patel always wore fancy clothes, like suits. His wife was very quiet. They had three young kids. And Mister Chung lived right across the street, with his elderly parents. Jose was asking papa if they were going to fight as well.

  We all went to bed that night hoping that we would be able to go to the safe zone quickly.

  But the next day, Jose woke up sick. He said his tummy hurt. He was trying to be brave, but the pain must have been bad because he was crying a lot. Mama prepared a few homemade remedies, with Eucalipto, that’s eucalyptus, and Naranjo, that’s orange leaves, but they made no difference. She ended up making a tea that helped Jose handle the pain and go to sleep.

  But that evening when he had woken up, he had gotten worse. Then papa admitted that he, too, had a stomach-ache. The news on the television was that hospitals and clinics were shut down. I was getting upset. Mama tried to calm me down, but I could see that she was scared too...

  Later that night I was sitting with my hermanito. I sat in a chair next to his bed and held his hand. It was so hard. Sitting there with him and seeing the pain in his eyes. He was our baby... As I looked at him, I could still see that little baby Jose. Always smiling, with those chubby cheeks!

  I remember praying so hard. I asked God to give me his pain or let me trade spots with him. I stayed up a long time with him but must have fallen asleep, because I woke up the next morning in my own bed. I guess one of my parents must have carried me to bed that night.

  By the next morning Jose seemed about the same. He stayed in bed all day. Papa was in pain but tried not to show it. That evening our world really started to turn upside down though. I could hear the television before I had walked into the living room. The person on tv was saying that the dead were rising. Mama and Papa were glued to the tv as I walked in and sat down. The person on television said that anybody that was infected would eventually die. She said that they would then ‘re-animate. That they would be violent, and attack anybody – even family. Mama said she didn’t believe it. That it was the government trying to scare people.

  I sat down on the couch and looked at my dad. He was emotional. He started speaking in Spanish, which is not like him at all. He had always scolded us for speaking Spanish. ‘We’re in America, and the language here is American.’ He would tell us. He was very conscious of it. But now he had slipped back into Spanish.

  “My love, I am afraid it’s true.” He said.

  “No!” My mom replied. She looked angry.

  “My love, look at me.” Mama looked at him, sitting in his chair. I could see the sweat on his forehead.

  “I’m so sorry, my love. But its true. Wait!” He said as mama was about to argue again. “I can not imagine our baby,” He started crying “or me, attacking you and our little girl. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen!”

  “Maybe they can help at the safe zone! We should pack up immediately and try to find them!”

  “No, my love. You can see it as clearly as I can. There is no cure.” Then papa really cried. He held his arms out to mama, he needed to hold her.

  Mama rushed over to papa and sat on his lap and held him tight. They were both crying. I didn’t realize it, but I was also crying. They saw me and reached out to me, and I jumped up off the couch and ran over to them. I remember crying like I’ve never cried before. I remember screaming. I remember all of us saying ‘No’ over and over.

  Eventually the tears ran dry. We got up and walked to Jose’s room, without saying a word. We opened the door and watched my little brother. He was asleep, but we could tell he was in pain. He looked almost as if he was having a nightmare. His body would jerk, and he kept grimacing. We watched him for a few minutes, before closing the door.

  Papa and mama did not know what to do. Neither of them had the willpower to murder Jose. They decided to wait and see. Maybe a miracle would occur, and our baby would recover.

  Very late that night we got our answer. I awoke when I heard mama yelling. I jumped out of bed and ran out of my room. Papa was in the hallway approaching the door to Jose’s room. He was holding himself up against the wall. He looked terrible.

  As I got to Jose’s room, I could see that mama had pinned Jose on the bed.

  “Help your mother.” Papa told me. I stepped around him and into Jose’s bedroom. When I saw his face, I was so shocked that I froze!

  Jose’s eyes were so wide open – it looked like he was shocked about something. His mouth was wide open and snapping, trying to bite mama. His teeth were clacking together so hard, that I expected them to break off! Mama had a scratch on her left arm and her right arm was bleeding. Jose was kicking his legs, trying to dislodge mama.

  “Maria!” Papa’s voice shook me out of my trance. He could see that mama needed help.

  I quickly launched myself on top of Jose’s legs and pinned them down. From that position I could clearly see Jose’s face. His eyes were locked on mama, and I could see the whites of those eyes. They had turned grey!

  “Jose! No!” I yelled at him, but all that did was turn his attention to me. He turned his face to me and snapped his mouth open and closed. I will never forget the sound it made.

  Between the two of us, we were able to wrap Jose up in his sheet so he couldn’t move very much. On the count of three we released Jose and backed up to the door. Jose wormed his way to the edge of the bed and slipped off headfirst. His face slammed into the hardwood floor with a loud smack. We both gasped in shock, but he seemed not to notice. His eyes open impossibly wide and his mouth continuing to snap open and closed. He wanted to bite us – to hurt us.

  Mama pushed me back into the hallway before retreating herself. She closed the bedroom door and took a moment to collect herself. Papa had slipped down and was sitting beside the door, his back against the wall and his legs splayed in the hallway.

  Mama stood with her head resting against the wall, and I could see her forearm. A chunk of the skin and even some of the meat had been torn away. Some of it was hanging by a piece of skin.

  “Mama – You’re hurt!” I said, pointing at her arm. Mama lifted her forehead off the wall and glanced at her arm. Her expression was blank. “It’s nothing, Maria.” She took a deep breath. We were silent for a few seconds, the only noise coming from Jose’s bedroom.

  Papa reached up to mama’s hand and gave her a squeeze. “I don’t think he’ll be able to get out.”

  Mama looked at her hand, clenched in papa’s hand, then gazed down at her husband. Her mouth started to quiver as she spoke. “Pedro. Our baby. Our beautiful, happy baby boy. He’s g–He’s gone!” and she sunk to the ground next to papa.

  I crawled onto papa’s lap and we sat there for a while. The sun was coming up by the time we moved from that spot.

  THE REST OF THAT DAY passed by in a daze. We got papa back in bed, and mama dressed her wound.

  Mama spent most of the day with papa in their room. I could hear them talking softly. Occasionally I heard laughter coming from their room. Other times, I could hear them crying. Jose must have gotten untangled as I heard him banging around in his room every now and then.

  We noticed that the banging around would only happen right after somebody else made a noise in the house. When things grew quiet there wouldn’t be any noise coming from Jose’s room. I had an image in my mind of Jose just standing there with those eyes wide open... It was scary.

/>   Mama fixed us something to eat for supper, and we ate in mama’s bed as papa was too weak to leave the bed. He could hardly eat, but at least we managed to be together for one more meal.

  After supper papa asked to see me alone. I crawled in bed with him and put his arm around me. He whispered to me as we lay there.

  “My girl. I love you so much. I’m sorry that this is happening.”

  “Papa its not your fault. And I love you more!” That brought a brief smile to his face.

  “Listen to me, Maria. I want you to live a long, healthy life.”

  “Ok papa.”

  “But most importantly you have to live a happy life! Without happiness, all the other stuff is meaningless. Remember that.”

  “Ok papa.” I had started crying.

  “I’m going to be leaving soon. But my spirit will always be with you. You are the most precious girl in the world.”

  “Papa don’t leave.” I could hardly get the words out between sobs. “I’m scared!”

  “Maria my beautiful girl. It’s ok to be scared. I’m scared too. But mama and you are everything to me ... now that Jose is gone.” He frowned for a moment. “Maria, you and mama don’t have this ‘syndrome’. You feel fine, right?

  I nodded. I hadn’t really thought about it. Papa’s expression became serious. “Please. Promise me. Promise me that you and mama will stay safe. I need you and mama to live.”

  I lay in his arms for several minutes, crying. He stroked my hair and silently cried with me. Eventually, I looked up at him and uttered one word. “Ok.”

  He smiled and asked me to get mama.

  I reluctantly left his side and got mama. She was sitting at the kitchen table. I could tell that she had been crying as well. We hugged briefly as she passed me. I felt the need to be strong for her, so I smiled at mama when she released me from the hug.

  “We’re going to be ok. It will be ok.” I said as I sat down in the chair she had just vacated.

  Oh, how I wanted to believe it...

  She left me sitting at the kitchen table and went to see papa. I was curious so I got up and stood at the end of the hall while she was in the room with papa. After about half an hour mama came out and closed the door behind her. She rested her head on the door for a moment, exactly as she had done very early that morning, after locking Jose in his room.

  She came over and together we walked back into the kitchen. We sat at the table and held hands. We just sat there in silence for a few minutes. I could tell mama was really struggling.

  Mama told me that she had tied papa up with sheets, securing his arms and legs so that he would not be able to escape. She didn’t know what else to do. We didn’t talk about what we would do after papa was gone. But I think both of us had accepted that he was going to die.

  We slept together in my bed that night. Neither of us slept very well. There were lots of noises outside, including gunshots and occasionally, screams. I remember waking up several times and thinking briefly that this was all a bad dream. But then I would feel mama’s arm around me and remember all that we had been through – and know that this nightmare was real.

  Mama and I woke up early the next morning. The sun had barely risen. We got dressed and crept like mice to the kitchen. After brushing our teeth in the kitchen sink, we had breakfast. All this time we were making as little noise as possible, in fear of rousing the undead in the house. You see, in our hearts we were already sure that papa was gone too.

  We ate sliced oranges from our own back yard for breakfast. Mama had fixed mine and was working on hers. She finished slicing the orange and put the knife on the table. As she sat down, she jostled the table, and the knife slipped off and clattered to the tile floor with a terrible racket.

  Mama and I sat in stunned silence, our eyes wide with fear. Jose was making a racket in his room. But there was no noise from papa’s room. We sat there for at least a full minute, listening for any noise from papa – but there was nothing. Just then we thought we heard a low moan.

  “Did you hear that?” Mama whispered to me. I nodded.

  We both quietly got up and walked down the hallway, until we were at papa’s door. We heard another moan, and this time we could make out mumbled words. Mama softly opened the door. We both peeked in and saw that papa was still alive!

  His wrists and ankles were tied to the bed frame with sheets. He lay in a spread-eagle position, with a blanket covering most of his legs and torso. His skin had gone pale, and the sheet under his head looked like it was soaking wet. His eyes were closed but then opened when he sensed our presence. His mouth started to move. He was trying to say something.

  We moved in close to hear.

  “W– Wa... ter.” He whispered through cracked lips.

  I immediately ran to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, filled it, and ran back, spilling almost half of it in my rush. Mama took the glass out of my shaking hand and attempted to pour some of the liquid into papa’s mouth. Papa was tied down, so it was hard for him to swallow the water. He started to choke and cough! Mama tried to lift his head. We were both yelling. Jose was pounding on his door. Mama quickly untied one of papa’s wrists, so she could help him sit up. She was working on his other wrist when I saw papa cough one more time and sink back.

  “Mama!” I called out.

  Mama stopped working on the other knot and stared at the man in the bed. His eyes had rolled up. The whites looked grey. Mama slowly got up from the bed and stood next to me. We stared at papa’s body as it lay there. He was dead. We both knew it. We watched his corpse, in hopes that he would not rise. After a minute, we started to believe that papa was not going to reanimate. But just as we started to breathe a sigh of relief, I noticed that his head jerked slightly.

  “Oh, no... Pedro...” Mama said, her voice full of sorrow and anguish. Almost as if in response to hearing his name, papa’s head jerked forward. His eyes were wide open. He instantly struggled to get up. One arm had been freed and the other was partially free.

  Mama and I panicked. We ran out of the door and down the hall. That’s when the unthinkable happened. Mama slipped on the water I had spilled in the hallway. I could hear a snapping sound as she went down. Mama made a high-pitched shrieking noise like I had never heard before.

  She was clutching her ankle. I ran back to her and tugged on her arm. “Mama get up! We have to get out of here!” I could hear papa struggling against his bonds.

  Mama wasn’t getting up. She kept grabbing at her ankle and was so overwhelmed by the pain that she couldn’t see or hear anything else.

  “MAMA!” I yelled right into her face. “MAMA!” Finally, she snapped out of it and looked at me. “Mama, we have to go. Now.” I said, as calmly and forcefully as I could.

  She nodded and tried to move. As she tried to draw her legs in, she suddenly yelped in pain though.

  “Maria! Something’s wrong with my ankle!” Sure enough, her foot was sitting at an odd angle. Just then we heard a loud tear from papa’s room.

  We looked at each other in pure terror, as more tearing sounds followed. I tried to drag mama down the hall, and she half helped by kicking out with her good leg. The progress was painstakingly slow though. We were about two-thirds of the way to the kitchen, when our worst fears were realized. Papa stepped into the hallway.

  His turned his head and focused on us, his bottom jaw was hanging low. He took two awkward steps into the hallway and started snapping his jaw. His arms extended out towards us, and his fingers curled into claws.

  Mama shook one of my arms loose and looked up at me. “Maria.” Her voice was completely calm and in control. “Maria, you need to run. Go. Now!” papa’s body took a couple more steps and was only about eight feet away from us. We knew that there was no way to escape. Mama dislodged my other arm and started waving and yelling.

  “Maria go now! Please! RUN! RUN NOW MARIA!”

  I took an involuntary step backward at the ferocious power in mama’s voice. Then another as the thing that
was papa lurched quickly forward and fell on top of her.

  Mama fought the zombie off with fists and slaps. The zombie ignored these and tried to get its mouth in proximity to mama’s throat. It also flailed with fists, some of these landing on mama. All this time mama kept yelling at me to get out.

  I turned and ran though the kitchen to the back door. A high-pitched keening sound chased me out the door. Blinded by tears, I launched myself off the top step and ran around the side of the house. I didn’t notice the small wheelbarrow that was standing around the corner and tripped over it. I barely got my hands up in time as I hit the fence with a loud bang and slid to the ground. The sounds of violence and screaming disoriented me as I slowly picked myself up.

  Still a bit stunned, I took a couple of small steps, and stopped. I could sense that I was being watched. As I looked up at the house, I saw Jose standing in the window just above me.

  For just a second, we stared at each other through the glass in silence.

  “Jose...” I mumbled. He looked so scary with his mouth hanging wide open like that.

  Jose started hitting the window in his efforts to get to me. It was so violent that it stunned me. It wasn’t until the glass started to crack that I snapped out of it.

  MARIA SHUDDERED AND almost knocked over the glass of water. Christine reached over and held Maria’s hand. Maria squeezed Christine’s hand, as she remembered the terrible vision.

  “It was so shocking to see hermanito – my little baby brother – with the eyes and mouth like that!” She gasped in shock as she remembered. “To see him banging on that window so violently. He really wanted to hurt me!”

  Maria was silent for a long moment before she started talking again.

  “But Jose was dead. I knew it at that moment. He was gone. So was papa. And mama.”

  She drew a few short involuntary breaths as she was close to crying. Then steeled herself and continued. “I backed away from him until I hit the fence. I didn’t want to look at him anymore, so I turned away and ran out through the side gate, through our front yard and into the street.”