by Gayle Katz
“Hey, Jane. Look at this,” Jack says as he holds up a cell phone, “I think we just found out who’s been sending you those mysterious text messages.”
“Who? My professor?”
“He had another one ready to go. Death shall have no dominion.”
“What does that mean?”
“What does any of this mean? Your guess is as good as mine. He’s crazy, Jane.”
On the other side of the desk, I see my professor’s top drawer, wrap my fingers around the drawer handle, and pull it open. I spot his car keys on top.
“Found them.” I look at Jack. “I found his keys.”
I go to grab them when a hand grabs my arm. The touch is like that of an icicle, freezing.
Terror and shock run through my body. My heart is pounding. I think it’s going to pop out of my chest. I look at my arm and see my professor clutching it tight.
“Nice to see you again, Jane,” he says.
“We thought you were dead.”
“I am.”
“What are you talking about? If you’re dead, how are we talking? I know I’m not dead.”
I look at his face. He looks horrible. He is so pale. There are blood spatters all over his face and his eyes are crazy, and covered by the same white film that covered Jayce’s eyes.
“Come closer,” my professor says.
“No, that’s OK. I’m close enough. I’m fine right here.”
His grip on my arm tightens as he draws me in closer. I feel trapped. I try to pull away, but it’s pointless. He holds on tight.
“You’re hurting me, Professor. Let me go.”
Jack runs over to rescue me. When he gets within arm's length, the professor grabs him by the throat.
Struggling, Jack tries to break his grip, but the professor is strong. I see the professor slowly lifting him off the ground, choking him.
“It pays to work out,” he says.
“No!” I scream. “Stop it! Let him go!”
I try to break free so I can help Jack, but it isn’t going to happen. I can’t break his death grip, and fighting him right now is only draining my strength. He is just too strong.
The professor is relentless and stronger than any other person I’ve encountered. He’s still holding me by the arm at the same time he’s slowly lifting Jack in the air.
“Let him go!” I shout in his ear.
“And what if I don’t?”
“Then he’s going to die, and it’s gonna be your fault. Let him go.”
“No.”
I continue to struggle, but his grip just gets stronger and colder—so cold that my arm starts to feel like it’s burning. It’s no use.
“Why not? What’s wrong with you? What do you want from us?”
He just stares at me.
“You’re killing him for no reason. Let him go. If you don’t, he’s gonna die. I don’t want him to die. Please let him go. Please,” I plead.
The professor throws Jack against his office wall. His body hits the wall and slides down to the floor, where he lies motionless. His head hits the floor.
I’m worried. He still isn’t moving. From this distance I can’t tell if he’s breathing. I keep watching him for any sign of movement.
“Stop looking at him. Look at me.”
“You might have killed him! I want to make sure he’s OK, and you’re preventing me from getting to him.”
“Why did you come here?”
“Isn’t this what you want? Me to come here. That’s why you sent all of those text messages, right? Well, I’m here now so tell me why all of this is happening.
“The campus is going crazy. The people who are here are running for their lives and others aren’t right, and the zombies—People are getting hurt! Tell us why this is happening so we can stop it.”
“That’s a great story, Jane, but you can’t stop it. Not now.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I have other plans for you.”
“What other plans? What are you talking about?
“All of this is happening because of you. All of the death. All of the suffering. It’s all because of you.”
“Because of me? What could I have possibly done to cause all this?”
“Ever since you came into my class, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Jane. Your hair, your lips, your eyes, your scent. You’re special and unique. Everything about you is intoxicating.”
He leans forward and inhales deeply. “But I couldn’t tell you. Professors can’t socialize with students. It’s frowned upon. Even when I decided to risk it all and offer to help you one-on-one, you ran away. Now you can’t run away. There’s no one and nothing to run away to. All you have is me now. You don’t have a choice. You’ll have to be with me. I have to have you.”
“What did you do?” I ask, not sure if I really want an answer.
“Under the guise of finding a cure for cancer, I was actually formulating a serum that when exposed to humans would re-sequence their DNA. People thought this would eliminate the cancer, and it did, but they didn’t consider the side effects, such as no longer being human.”
“So everyone is going to die?”
“Not everyone. Not you. The serum is based on your DNA, so you’re immune. Even if one of my minions were to bite you, it wouldn’t have any affect. You’d be fine.”
“My DNA? How’d you get my DNA anyway?”
“I stole the blood sample you gave to satisfy the requirements for admission.”
“What? You stole it? Are you insane?”
“No. Yes. Well, maybe. I can’t live without you, Jane. When you told me you didn’t want me, I thought you’d change your mind if no one else was left. You’d eventually have to come to me.”
“Never.”
“You’re here with me right now. You’ll change your mind.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Maybe so, Jane. Maybe so.”
“So all those zombies chasing us, what about them? If they can’t hurt me, why are they chasing us?”
“Some of them are subjects in the testing trials for the new cancer drug we’re developing. They have cancer and are willing to do anything to fight it. Once the drug is administered, they’re under my control. They do what I say. And their instructions are to capture you and bring you here to me. As it happened, you came on own.”
“So you took advantage of innocent people?”
“No. They put themselves at risk. They were blinded by the cure. The problem was I didn’t realize the full extent of the side effects. Not only did the serum turn them into those things, but it gave them the power to turn other people simply by biting them. That’s when things really started to get out of control. When we saw what was happening, the government wanted in. They want to weaponize it.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. You’re insane.”
“Not insane. In love. I developed the serum for you. For us. No matter what bites you, you’re immune. You’ll be safe. You won’t turn like the others.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? What about everyone else? What about them? How am I supposed to feel when this plague you created takes over and everyone I care about is gone?”
“I’m only thinking about you. Only you. I guess that’s my flaw. I’m so focused on keeping you safe that I don’t think about anyone else, not even myself, which is the reason why I look the way I do.”
He pulls me closer. I’m face-to-face with him. So close I can feel his stale, musty breath on my face.
“Look into my eyes, Jane. What do you see?”
I do what he asks and look into his eyes. They seem strange to me. Hazy and dead inside.
“Well, you can still speak and articulate your thoughts. The infected we’ve run into can’t do either.”
“That’s because I developed an inoculation that keeps the virus at bay.”
“A cure?”
“No. There’s no cure. At least not yet.
Just a little something to keep my symptoms under control. The side effect is that it pushes all of the corrupted cells out of my system. That’s why you see such a buildup of bio matter all over the building.”
I stand there speechless. Staring. I am in shock. This man is bat-shit crazy.
“See how much I care for you? I gave more thought to your life than my own.”
“What? That’s how you show you care?”
I try to move and see if Jack is breathing. The professor holds me tight.
“Let me go. Jack helped me. I need to help him now.”
“No, now that I have you here, I won’t let you go. Look at the disaster you caused.”
“Me? You think I caused this? You’re insane. Let me go!” I yank as hard as I can to escape his grasp. No dice. He’s too strong.
I’m exhausted and fall to my knees. I start to cry.
Still clamped onto my arms, the professor says, “You have a choice to make.”
“What?” I can barely hear him over my pounding headache.
“I see you care about him so I’ll make you a deal. If you stay here with me, I’ll let your precious Jack go—if he’s still alive, of course.”
“And the other choice?”
“You can go, but you won’t get very far. I’ll instruct my minions to go and get him. Then they’ll dispose of him. They could bite him and turn him into one of us or they could just crack his head open and have lunch.”
“You’re heartless.”
Horrified at my choices, I don’t really have one. I look over at Jack slumped on the floor. Dejected, broken, I sigh.
“You win. I’ll stay.”
I can see a smug smirk creep across the professor’s face.
“Good choice,” He says as he pulls me to my feet and draws me close.
I try to pull away, but he holds on tight. I close my eyes. Just then, I feel the professor fall away. I open my eyes and see that Jack has regained consciousness and hit the professor on the head with enough force to knock him to the floor, losing his grip on me, at least momentarily.
“Jack!” I shout.
He grabs my hand.
Chapter 13
________________________________________
8:00 p.m.
“Are you OK?”
Disoriented, I nod.
“Let’s go. We need to move. Now!”
Running out of the professor’s office, we slide, and I fall on the goo-covered classroom floor. Despite everything that Jack had been through, he’s still strong enough to help me to my feet so we can keep moving.
We come to the classroom door and look at each other and nod. We know what’s waiting for us on the other side.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Ready.” I say as we pull our matching metal desk legs from our backpacks.
I fling open the door, and he runs through swinging. I follow him out. We find ourselves up against maybe a dozen zombies, but we’re bashing too many of them in the head to get an accurate count. Not to mention that it’s only seconds after we hit them and they fall to the floor that they get up to fight again. We’ll be overwhelmed soon.
After a couple minutes of fighting these horrible creatures, I shout, “How long are we gonna be able to keep this up?”
“As long as we have to.”
Just then, we hear a clicking sound.
“It’s the walkie-talkie. Answer it.”
“I gotta get these things off my back first.”
A voice explodes from the walkie-talkie: “Jane! Jack! Come in. Where are you? We’re gassed up and heading to North Campus in one of the snowplows.”
“It’s the guys! They’re coming for us!”
Jack goes for the walkie-talkie on his belt, but more zombies are attacking him, and he drops it.
“Shit! I can’t get it.”
Not afraid of the zombies for myself any more, I drop to the floor and retrieve the walkie-talkie. As soon as it’s in my hands, I click the button.
“We’re in Roosevelt Hall. Third floor. Hurry!”
“Yeah. Yeah. We’re on our way.”
I run to the hallway window to look for our friends in the snowplow so I can flag them down. I open the window and see the plow in the distance. I begin to flail my arms to get their attention, and then it dawns on me. While the snowplow is larger and taller than a regular car, we’re still way too high up to make the jump to it from the third floor. We’ll most certainly break our necks.
“Jack, they’re almost here. C’mon. Hurry. We gotta go down a floor.”
Smashing one of the zombies in the face with his bloodied weapon, he manages to escape the fracas and hightail it over to me by the window and the adjacent stairwell.
As he approaches, he yells, “Go!” and we scurry down the staircase to the second floor. We open the window. The snowplow makes great time. We’re right above it.
“That’s a big jump.” I say.
“You can do it. You’ll be fine.”
“No. I can’t. I don’t know how. You go first.”
He nods and makes the jump. From the look on his face, it’s not easy, but he manages to land right on top of the inner compartment where our friends are. Once he gets himself together, and I see he’s OK, he gives a thumbs up and waves for me to follow. With a deep breath, I make my jump, but I miss and almost fall off the plow. Luckily, he manages to grab me and pull me up far enough so that I can get into the cabin. He follows me inside.
Catching my breath, I see the splat I made on the side of the snowplow. The red goo stuck to the outside of the window, partially blocking our view.
“Are you bleeding?” Jack asks.
“I don’t think so. I’m not sure.”
Seconds later, we see the zombies fall from the window as they try to follow us and descend on the snowplow. It sounds like a barrage of bowling balls hitting us as they land on the plow.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
“Get this thing moving! I’m not sure how strong this metal cabin is, and I don’t want to find out,” Bill says to Logan.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m on it,” Logan replies.
“What is all over the window? And that smell?” Bill asks.
“That’s me. Sorry,” I say.
We can see the zombies making their way up to the cabin.
“Go faster!” Jack says.
“This is our top speed. We can’t go faster. We’re in a snowplow, remember? Not a sports car,” Logan says.
Some of the zombies who make it to the cabin start banging their heads and fists against the windows.
“The Plexiglas should hold,” Bill says.
“Should?!” I ask.
“Well, I don’t think anyone’s ever tested how long Plexiglas can hold up against a zombie attack,” Bill jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
“Yeah. Sorry. I hear you. Do you think we’ll be able to make it off campus in this thing?” I ask as a follow-up.
“Not sure, but we’ll give it our best shot,” Bill says, encouragingly.
Looking out the window, more and more zombies begin to pile up. It seems as if they’re falling from the sky just like snowflakes.
“How much longer until they break the windows or disable the plow?” Jack asks.
“I don’t know,” Logan replies. “I only drove one of these bad boys as a part-time job to earn some cash.”
“Should one of us go out there and try to knock them off?” Jack inquires.
We all stare at each other. I know that isn’t going to be a popular job.
“No. We don’t need to do that. We can make it. These windows are Plexiglas. No one can smash them. The snowplow is made of metal. Nothing can stop us. Have some confidence,” Bill repeats.
“You sure?” Jack asks again.
“Yes. I believe we’ll make it off campus and figure out what’s going on. We all just need to chill out and relax. Acting crazy won’t get us anywhere,” Bill says.
I take a deep breath. Bill speaks with suc
h confidence. Even I believe what he says. I hope the others do too.
“Crap. They may not break through the windows, but they’re beginning to block them. It’s getting difficult to see what’s in front of me,” Logan complains.
As I look through the front windshield, I see the zombies up close and personal as they all fight each other to try to break the window. Through their commotion, one of them manages to rip off the left windshield wiper. We all hear the crack of the wiper disconnecting from the vehicle.
“Umm. Did you see that? I only have one wiper left, and then we’ll have no way of clearing the snow. With the snow coming down like it is, that’s gonna make it more difficult to drive,” Logan says.
“We have to keep going,” Jack says.
“I hear ya,” Logan concurs.
We drive for a few more minutes. I can see Logan peering out of the cabin through what seems like a peephole sized window opening. That can’t be easy.
A few more minutes pass by and Logan shouts, “Hold on to something. The plow is gonna tip over!”
I grab Jack with one hand and reach for the door handle with the other. Moments later I feel the snowplow begin to fall forward. The plow tumbles over.
I scream.
Our bodies thrash against the sides of the cabin as the plow falls over. I finally land on Jack, who is on the ceiling, which is now the floor.
Disoriented, I see Jack in front of me saying something, but I can’t tell what. His mouth is moving, but it all sounds muffled to me.
It takes a couple seconds for me to get my bearings.
“We ran into some sort of ditch,” Logan says. “I didn’t see it.”
“Forget it,” Bill says, “Don’t dwell on it. Let’s keep moving. We have to stay one step ahead or else we’re gonna have problems.”
“Too late,” I say as I point out the window to the crowd of infected quickly growing in numbers.
The plow is upside down. The wheels are off the ground. We aren’t going anywhere in this thing anymore.
“We need a new plan,” Jack says.
“The plan is still to get off campus, right? We’ve just run into a hiccup,” Bill replies.
“I say we tape up and run like hell,” Logan says.
“Have you seen how many zombies are out there? Not to mention the ones we’re not seeing. They’d be on our asses the whole way. We’d never make it. Plus they’re right here,” Bill says, pointing at them through the window, “We’d be dead or worse in minutes.”
