Grayson nodded to me, asking, “Better?” as he started filling Styrofoam cups with water for each of us. I accepted mine, the cold water feeling like the most refreshing thing this side of...well, I don't know. Other refreshing things. Nonetheless, it was good. Damn good.
Munoz cleared his throat as he unclasped the top of the poly case.
“As Agent Grayson stated, I am Sergeant Munoz. I'm here as an observer, and for data collection. This is just a recording device.”
“Ah, he does speak!” I reported to Grayson, “Does he do any other tricks?”
Munoz shot me a withering look, and began anew, “Anyway, we would ask that you start at the beginning. Leave no details out. These recordings will go higher up the ladder to determine-”
“Look, cupcake,” I said, interrupting him, “Do you kiss a girl before your first dinner together? Do you like taking road trips before you fill up the tank or check the oil?”
“Excuse me, puta?” Munoz shot back.
“My head may be better,” I started, “but that's only half the deal. Calm yourself. We ain't going nowhere until I know-”
Grayson's turn to interrupt somebody came, “Yes, your family. And friends. Look,” and he propped the tablet on its case, bringing up a screen showing the very room we were in, all three of us seated at the table. A live feed.
“So that is an observation window! You clever bastard! I had no idea!” I shot out, giving him my best 'you got me' expression.
“And,” Grayson said, thumbing across the screen, “your wife. Your daughter. Cute kid.”
Several more panes slid by on the screen, all presumably live feeds of either cells, or rooms much like the one I was in. The only ones not kept in confinement were the children and babies, all shots showed them in either day care settings, or nurseries tended by what I assumed to be nurses.
“Now, see?” I offered, “I'm much more willing to be just a little bit more cooperative. When can I see them?”
“Soon, Mr. Pfeiffer. First things first. I believe, as you said, there are backs that need scratched?”
Sighing in resignation, I said, “Okay, okay. Name's Scott, by the way. We're not in school, and you ain't my principal, drop the last name bullshit. What do you need?”
“As Sergeant Munoz was stating, the beginning. Start just short of when you saw your first infected.” And, catching my apprehension, he continued, “The charges I'd mentioned before have not been moved to convictions, and nothing has been formalized as of yet. This is more to...” he paused, then continued, “to determine the validity of said charges, and determine what really happened. We have conflicting reports across the board, and also, any real-world experience you can bring to light concerning this worldwide catastrophe will of course be of great benefit.”
“Alright.” I conceded again, “The beginning?”
“Yes, Mr. Pf- I mean, Scott. The beginning.”
I stole another sip of that God-tier water, ran my hand over the stubble on my cheeks and usually clean-shaven head, and sighed.
“Yeah. The beginning. Clench that sphincter and buckle up, man. It's been a ride.”
Eschaton (The Scott Pfeiffer Story Book 1) is available from Amazon HERE!
Or find more great zombie books at www.severedpress.com
Z-Level 10: A Zombie Apocalypse Novel Page 23