At least it’s washing some of the blood away, Max thought to himself as he stared glumly at the downpour that was keeping him from Clara. Looking down at his own filth-covered body, including what was once a white dress shirt now multicolored with gore, he got an idea.
“Jay, come here,” Max commanded gently as he put out his hand for the boy.
Uncertain of Max’s intention, Jay hesitated slightly before grasping his hand.
He instructed Jay to help him push the rack blocking the door out of the way. He cringed at the screech of metal and completed the task as quickly as possible before stepping out into the downpour.
Lifting his face to the sky, Max extended his arms and let the rain wash over him. Seeing the joy in his face, Jay quickly joined him. As he stepped out, Jay seemed to decide that he liked the feeling of the rain hitting his body and began doing a strange sort of disjointed prance around Max, a strange guttural laugh escaping his lips. Max laughed at the silliness and happiness he was seeing in Jay and joined him in celebrating the rain.
The last twenty-four hours had been stressful and the awkward happy dance combined with the rain lightened both of their hearts. Together they ran in circles until they were both soaked, but considerably cleaner and happier.
After about an hour of this, the rain hadn’t let up, and Max led them back inside. His stomach suddenly growled loudly, making Jay giggle and surprising Max. He realized how hungry he was and started looking around for something to eat.
A few random chocolate bars and bags of chips were among the debris but held no interest to Max. He figured he could probably figure out how to open them but remembered that that was what Jay had been eating before he turned, and it hadn’t smelled particularly appetizing then.
Sniffing the air, Max caught a faint whiff of the ever elusive and delicious Smell. Oh yeah, the other door! he thought. He realized they hadn’t heard any noises through the night and put his ear against it to listen. He debated for a few moments, thinking of the guns that greeted them behind the last closed door, but when he considered that there was probably fresh, delicious meat on the other side of that door, his hunger won out.
I won’t even have to feel bad for hurting someone, Max preened to himself. I can be full and not feel guilty!
Telling Jay to stay back, he opened the door as quietly as he could.
Peering into the gloomy interior, he stopped and listened again for a moment. Satisfied that he wouldn’t immediately get shot, Max opened it the rest of the way. A stronger, more immediate smell wafted towards them, causing Jay to stand at attention. Waving him down to stay quiet, Max moved forward and realized this was some kind of living area behind the store. Aged brown walls and taupe carpet covered the hall. The lack of light made it seem particularly gloomy. Several pictures lined the walls beside him, but it was too dark to see clearly, and he was focused on what was ahead. The rain pattered on, the only noise immediately noticeable.
To Max’s right was what he recognized as a kitchen, with some kind of den down the hall in front of them.
Max stopped in front of the kitchen entrance lifting his nose to the air. No fresh blood scent here, but maybe they have meat. Kitchens have meat and food, he rationalized, and he stepped into the small space. Following closely behind, Jay suddenly moaned and turned and quickly began shuffling further down the hall towards the den.
Cursing internally, Max quickly followed after him as they both stepped into the den.
“Stop! Stay here,” Max whispered to Jay angrily, indicating a chair in front of them. Lowering his head in shame, Jay sat down and whimpered slightly but was otherwise still.
Max decided checking the rest of the apartment was a good idea anyways and looked to Jay to ensure he stayed in place. The place seemed as gloomy as the hallway; however, it didn’t have any of the wreckage that the front of the building did. Max vaguely wondered where the owners were.
As he walked towards what looked to be a hallway of more rooms, the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something felt very off, and his fear of guns and people made him slow his pace as he moved forward. Sensing Max tense, Jay sat up in his chair and moaned lightly, but stayed where he was in deference to Max’s earlier display of dominance.
Max heard the tiniest noise that almost reminded him of Joan. He stopped and looked around for a moment before registering where the noise had come from. Max looked to his side, and sure enough, several sets of eyes stared back at him from a crack in the adjacent closet. They all widened at the same time as Max panicked. “We not hurt you!” he exclaimed to the fearful eyes.
At Max’s words the eyes seemed to widen even further, and he heard a small voice. “Mommy, did that zombie just talk?” Another small voice started crying and he heard a woman’s voice shush in response.
Holy shit, he thought, there’s a whole family in there! They must have been hiding since they heard us banging on the door outside. Max immediately stepped back into the den. Jay stood at the ready, curious but oddly no longer showing signs of aggression.
Max put a hand on Jay’s chest to indicate he stay still. Max’s stance was tense and ready to bolt at the slightest threat. However, he figured if the people in the closet had a gun, they probably would have used it already. He thought about leaving but didn’t want to go back out in the rain or have to find another place to hide.
“We are zombie,” Max said as clearly as he could, “but we not hurt you.” The crying slowed a bit and he heard frantic whispers.
“We hide from rain,” Max continued, hoping to calm them with his words. “Were looking for food.”
Shit, he thought. Did I just say that to the people that are afraid of me?
“Not people food! Other type food….” He trailed off, unsure of how to salvage that one.
Before he could continue, the door creaked open and a small Asian woman emerged with a bat in hand. She watched Max closely as she closed the door behind her.
For several moments they just stared at one another until a small girl’s voice whispered for her mother. At hearing this, Jay tried to move forward, causing the woman to swing the bat in his direction. Her expression was one of determination, despite the tears running down her face.
Max turned around and frowned at Jay. “What doing, Jay? Stop scaring them.” Jay immediately stopped trying to move forward, but his expression dropped, and he looked sad. Jay opened his mouth as if to say something. “Joooa....”
Max stared at his friend, absolutely stunned for a moment. Jay had finally tried to talk! And it almost sounded like he said…
Suddenly, Max realized why Jay was so eager to get towards the closet. Turning to the woman, he put his palms facing outward to address her once more.
“He not hurt you. He hear voice of girl…sound like our friend…. Sound like Joan,” Max said sadly, looking back at Jay.
“Joan gone now. Jay just wanted say hi. This Jay, I am Max.”
The bat lowered slowly throughout Max’s speech as the woman’s expression went through a range of emotions in seconds, ending somewhere near bewilderment.
“I—I have never heard a zombie speak,” the woman finally responded, only a slight accent in her voice.
Max smiled sadly at this and replied as honestly as he could. “We not all speak.”
She considered this for a moment, the bat lowered, but still firmly in her grasp. Making a decision, she turned back to the closet and opened it, whispering inside. A moment later, two children emerged: a boy of about eight and girl just a bit younger. They stood behind their mother, watching them curiously. Max did his best to smile reassuringly and the slight moan behind him told him Jay was giving his own brand of silly grin.
“I am Sue. This is Lucy and…”
“I’m Charlie, but my friends call me Chip!” the little boy interrupted as he stepped out and smiled at Max. Chip turned to his mother and smiled. “Mom, this is so cool!”
CHAPTER 15
Clara was asleep at the
back of the cage leaning on Three's shoulder when the gates opened again. She wasn't completely awake, but suddenly heard Three begin to growl and was pushed aside as he stood up. Looking up, she saw the soldiers coming towards them, their eyes focused on her.
Clara's eyes widened as she realized they weren't here for Three this time. He continued to growl, and she remembered the female who had fought back before, the scraps of clothing still on the ground a grim reminder. Clara knew that he wouldn't put up a fight for himself, but for her he might. Not wanting Three to get himself killed for her, she stepped in front of him and looked into his eyes, hoping he would read her intent, before turning to the soldiers. She glared at them but stood her ground.
One of the men, Private Brody, watched this exchange with interest before pushing forward and grabbing Clara's arm.
More gently than she anticipated, she was led out of the cage and through the door which filled her with such dread.
A few moments later she was handcuffed and placed in a chair in a small room before the door closed and she was left alone. Using the slack between the cuffs, she placed her hand on the edge of her pocket. Even her fingers proximity to the photo that lay inside giving her reassurance. Before Clara could get comfortable, the door opened, making her head shoot up and her heart race.
Rachel closed the door and looked over at Clara. Noticing she looked apprehensive, Rachel put a small smile on her face and tried to use slow movements to get over to the chair across from Clara.
"My name is Rachel Samborski," she began as she looked Clara up and down to make sure no recent visible bites had occurred while in captivity.
"I am not going to hurt you. I just want to talk," she continued.
Clara eyed the doctor warily, understanding her words but not believing them. She thought back to all of her interactions with humans since she woke up. Being taken from her home, waking up confined with a bag on her head, the cage, the stories from Three and Seventeen, the female beaten to death by the soldiers…. At this last memory, she began growling at Rachel, who paled considerably but, to her credit, didn't flinch.
Clearing her throat, Rachel did her best to ignore the angry look she was receiving and pressed onwards. At least this zombie isn't jumping around trying to bite me like some of them, she observed.
"I am not going to hurt you," Rachel repeated. "I am a doctor, not a soldier. And I am doing studies on people like yourself. People who were infected with the FIRE virus. Do you know what that is?"
Clara stared at her, the growl in her throat mellowing as she listened.
"We believe people like yourself could have the ability to get better. To remember."
At this last part, Clara visibly perked up a bit, thinking of the picture in her pocket and what she would give to remember the man. Rachel noticed the spark in Clara's eyes and continued, encouraged by the subtle, but real, response.
"I can help you remember things, I believe. If you can understand me, can you nod your head?" Rachel asked hopefully.
Clara considered this for a moment but remembered too well the warning from Three and Seventeen about the smarter ones. She was already worried that she had given herself away with the meat bucket and decided to stay silent.
Rachel sighed as she considered what to do next. I suppose I should do the blood work then scans next, she thought to herself. I can do the physical and use that data, anyways. Getting up slowly, she started to approach Clara, who visibly tensed in her seat.
Keeping her voice even and calm, she tried to explain. "It is okay. I need to do a few tests. You just need to stay still for me. Can you do that?" Rachel said as soothingly as she could manage.
"Our tests show that your pain receptors likely aren't working very well. You shouldn't feel anything, but there will be needles." Rachel pulled out her medical bag and put it on her chair as she looked at Clara. Studying the infected woman for a minute, she tried to take her features in on a scientific level.
Well, her skin is quite pale even for a Caucasian woman, Rachel thought. Iris appears to be very pale as is also indicative of the infected, although this one seems to be particularly so, which could indicate she had blue eyes prior. Rachel noticed the gold ring still on her left ring finger and wondered where her partner was.
Clara gazed back at Rachel, a little confused by the looks she was getting. Shaking her head out of her musings, Rachel pulled some syringes out of her bag.
"I just need to draw some blood. Like I already said, it shouldn't hurt, but just...growl if you want me to stop, okay?" Rachel sputtered, realizing how silly that sounded. Even still, she got no resistance when she uncuffed one of her arms and put the band around Clara's arm to begin filling vials. Clara stared at her face, not caring about what was happening with the needle in her arm.
Who is this doctor? Clara wondered as her blood filled the tubes.
A few minutes later she was finished, and Rachel turned her back to Clara, taking a few moments to prepare and pack away the vials. Clara realized that this small act of turning her back in itself showed a huge degree of trust. Either that, or ignorance. Clara had seen how her lesser companions drooled and fought over the smell of living flesh. Even now, she felt the urge. The only difference was that her memories provided her a degree of control. If she wanted to badly enough, she could easily tear this woman's throat out right now. A moment later, she was interrupted from her thoughts as the doctor turned back around to address her.
"Okay, now I just need to take you to another room to scan your head. I don't want to hurt you," Rachel repeated again, leaning down to unlock the second cuff. "If you would please, come with me."
Clara stared at the woman intently. While she wasn’t quite ready to talk to her, she wouldn't fight back either. She willingly let the doctor take her by the arm.
Rachel helped Clara stand and knocked on the door, indicating for the soldier on the other side to open it.
Clara flinched slightly at the sight of the men, but continued on beside Rachel, who held her head high, barely even acknowledging their presence. Together they walked down the stark hallways until they arrived at a lab. Rachel quickly informed the guards to stay outside and pulled Clara into the room.
Looking around the room, Clara saw all kinds of things she didn’t think she would have been able to identify even before she died. The entire room smelled funny even to Clara’s reduced sense of smell. Silver, white, and glass were everywhere she looked, and some small part of her enjoyed the order of it. Even the refrigerator looked high tech and complicated. Her eyes dazzled at the cleanliness.
Rachel stood and watched Clara’s gaze as she looked around the room and recognized it as something close to awe.
“Pretty great, isn’t it?” Rachel smirked, causing Clara to quickly school her features. “Come on, the scans are in these rooms over here.”
Without looking to see if she was followed, Rachel moved through the room with familiarity towards a door in the left corner.
“I need to scan you, like I said already,” Rachel began, an idea forming in her mind as she prepared the first few slides. “Let me prep a few tests before, though. Why don’t you take a seat.”Without thinking, Clara looked around and found the nearest stool and pulled it out, sitting down on the high metal chair. She looked up to see Rachel staring at her with wide eyes before she realized what she’d done.
“You understood me!” Rachel gasped.
Clara became frantic. What the hell will they do to me now? Her instincts kicked in and she went from panic to defense as she snarled, standing and preparing to defend herself.
Rachel caught herself taking a step back before deciding to hold her ground. She was beginning to realize that this infected woman, and probably the other man, Number Three from the other lab, both had been playing dumb. There had been a few times she felt certain they understood, and the focus was there. Rachel had suspected before but had just confirmed that something…someone that was considered a braindead zombie actually u
nderstood her and could listen and respond to instructions. I was right!
For a moment, the women stared at each other, Clara trying to ascertain the threat level while Rachel’s brain raced and tried to figure out why they would pretend they couldn’t understand.
Suddenly she remembered the uncomfortable reaction to the soldiers before and thought back to the experiments. Rachel wondered what else the soldiers did that she didn’t know about. Did this woman in front of her somehow know about the experiments that went on prior to her arrival?
“I won’t tell the others,” Rachel spat out quickly, hoping she was correct in her assumptions and that she wasn’t about to get eaten by a zombie in her own lab.
After a moment Clara stopped growling but didn’t sit again, continuing to stare at Rachel warily.
Quickly taking her opportunity, Rachel did her best to pretend it hadn’t happened and carefully led Clara to the MRI chamber.
Rachel decided to continue the rest of her tests, knowing she had a bit of a wait ahead of her while the scans did their thing. Most of them were pretty standard—checking the basic body chemistry, hormone levels, and other rather mundane things.
She printed out and processed the results over thirty minutes while the scan completed, noting which tests she would need to come check on hours later. She flipped through them absently and what she considered to be her “science brain” took over as she scanned through the results while turning off the machine. She turned on the microphone and told Clara she could get out. Heading towards the door, she finished the page, about to put the printouts down to finish reading later.
Stopping in her tracks, she turned around and looked at the screen again, confirming what she had just read.
Holy shit, Rachel thought to herself as she looked at the data. Over the microphone with a shaky voice she told Clara to hold tight for a few minutes, needing a moment to process. She wasn’t overly surprised when the woman seemed to comply and sit on the edge of the MRI machine eyeing the door with mild unease.
Dead Aware Page 8
