by Cross, Amy
“Is there something going on?” I ask.
“What might be going on?” McBride replies.
“You guys seem to be very interested in what we found,” I point out. “If anything's wrong, I think you should tell people. It's not right to keep us all in the dark.”
“We're all recovering from the outbreak of a deadly virus,” McBride says. “It's important that we keep tabs on things and make sure that there are no signs of that virus returning. That's all we're doing here. We're monitoring the situation.” He looks me up and down. “We're monitoring people, too. Have you noticed any signs of sickness over the past forty-eight hours?”
I shake my head.
“You must report any sickness,” he continues. “Do you understand that?”
“I do.”
“And for now,” he adds, “we'd appreciate it if you could not mention anything about the body. To anyone.”
“Why not?” I ask.
“We don't want people to panic. That's reasonable, isn't it?”
I pause for a moment.
“I haven't told anyone,” I say finally, “and I have no plans to. It was just a body, right? There's no reason to be concerned.”
“Exactly,” Gregore replies, and he finally allows himself a faint smile. “That's the proper response, Ms. Marter. I'm glad to see that you're finally getting with the program. There's no reason to be concerned at all.”
Elizabeth
“So you don't think that visit was in any way strange?” I ask Lucas as we wander along the street after work is over. “Seriously?”
“One minute you're worried about things getting out of control,” he replies, “and the next you're worried that there are too many checks and precautions.”
“I just feel as if there's something they're not telling us,” I explain. “That body wasn't right, and I think they know it. They've been so quick to reassure us all that the zombie problem is over, but I just can't bring myself to accept that, not yet. I think there have to be things we don't understand about the situation.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the possibility that they're still out there.”
“Zombies?”
“They have to be. Even if it's just small pockets of infection, they must still exist. And that means it could all explode again. All it takes is one carrier to come into the city, and we'll be right back where we started.”
“There are safeguards against that sort of thing.”
“I know, but -”
Suddenly I spot several uniformed officers ahead, guarding the entrance to the building that we were searching the other day. The building where we found the dead man in apartment 219.
“Relax,” Lucas says, “that's got nothing to do with what we discovered. I don't know whether you heard, but last night another girl was murdered. I know this sounds crazy, but they're actually suggesting that there might be a serial killer in the city.”
“Here?” I ask, stopping and watching as the officers maintain their guard on the building's front door. “I heard about the murder, but I didn't know that it was right here.” I turn to him. “Doesn't that seem like a coincidence to you?”
“Sure, but coincidences happen.”
“A girl was murdered last week,” I point out, “about ten blocks south of here.”
“I know. It's horrible.”
“And one of the other teams found a body there just before that. In one of the apartments.”
“So?”
“So there's a pattern emerging,” I point out, and now my mind is racing as I struggle to work out exactly what's happening.
“Don't get paranoid, Elizabeth,” Lucas says firmly. “You heard what Gregor and the other guy told us, there's no reason to worry.”
“But this serial killer business doesn't make sense,” I continue. “One of the victims last week was supposely a man who had his throat cut, but now the latest victim was apparently a woman who was sexually assaulted. The stories keep changing, there's no consistency in any of them.”
“Maybe it's two serial killers,” he suggests. “Maybe it's just a series of random, standalone murders.”
“Or maybe there's no serial killer at all,” I suggest. “Maybe that's just the story that'd being pushed, so they can cover up what's really happening.”
“And what's really happening?” he asks, already sounding highly skeptical.
“What if there are still oubreaks of zombie activity?” I ask. “What if they're trying to cover it up? Maybe they can't completely hide the fact that people are dying, so they're pretending that there's a serial killer on the loose.”
“You're really reaching, Elizabeth,” Lucas replies. “This is starting to sound like a conspiracy theory. The simplest explanation is usually the correct one.”
“Think of the panic if zombies returned,” I point out. “Everything would start to fall apart again. At least now, while they keep it under wraps, everyone's still working. And they probably think that these are just isolated little incidents that they can deal with. They probably think that soon the last of the zombie attacks will fade away. Meanwhile, they can just keep blaming a serial killer any time there's a death.”
He sighs.
“Then there's the curfew,” I add. “What don't they want us seeing at night?”
“Sure,” he replies, “maybe the zombies are back. Or maybe it's aliens, or monsters from the sea. Or werewolves. Elizabeth, it's good to be curious and skeptical, but sometimes you have to just accept what's really happening. And in case you hadn't noticed, people can absolutely be assholes. I can totally believe that, in the chaos we're living in at the moment, some idiot has decided to live out his serial killer fantasies. I might not like that, but it actually makes sense to me. More sense than zombies coming back, at least.”
He takes a step back.
“I'm exhausted,” he adds, “so I'm heading home. I suggest that you do the same, and that you try to take your mind off things. It's so easy to get lost down the rabbit-hole, Elizabeth. Please, I'm begging you... Let this one go.”
“But what if I'm right?” I ask.
He's already walking away, and I guess I don't blame him. After all, I have no evidence to back up my theory, and I guess I probably do sound a little nuts. I take a deep breath and try to calm myself down, but – as I continue to watching the building up ahead – I still can't shake the feeling that something's being hidden from us. And the more we're all told to calm down and stop worrying, the more I'm convinced that we're in for a nasty surprise.
Elizabeth
Manhattan at night, without the electric lights, is such a bizarre sight. Skyscrapers stand tall against the starry sky, but the empty buildings look more like husks. Meanwhile the stars shine so bright, it's actually possible to pick out different constellations. I found an astrology book in Harrison's Blake's collection, and for the first time in my life I've begun to recognize certain shapes in the sky. Right now, for example, I can see Cassiopeia.
Before, I could never really see the stars.
***
My name is Elizabeth Marter, and in the old days my bedtime routine was basically this:
- My parents would tell me to go to bed.
- I'd complain and ask to stay up.
- I'd end up going to bed anyway, and I'd be told to put my phone on charge and go to sleep.
- I'd brush my teeth and say goodnight to everyone, and then I'd go to my room.
- I'd feel so awake, so alert, like I had limitless energy.
- For the next hour or so, I'd be on my phone. I'd be talking to friends, reading gossip sites, and just generally doing normal things.
- Eventually one of my parents would notice, and they'd yell at me to put my phone away. Usually Mom. It's odd, but lately I've begun to realize that I no longer remember the sound of Mom's voice. I remember so much, but the sound of her voice is gone, no matter how hard I concentrate. It's as if that one memory has just been plucked from my mind.
- Anyway, at some point, I'd decide that I might as well sleep, and I'd settle down for the night. Usually feeling that my life was totally unfair.
These days, my bedtime routine is much simpler:
- I go to my room, and I set my head down, and I try to empty my head for long enough to get to sleep.
***
I miss Thomas.
Sure, I didn't know him for very long, but I could actually talk to him. Now, as I remain flat on my back and stare up at the ceiling, I wish I could talk to him about all this madness. Somehow he always managed to make it easier for me to think clearly, even if at times he could be extremely annoying. And while he might not completely agree with me right now, I'm also pretty sure that he'd take my concerns seriously.
Because I know that something's wrong. As I sit and stare out at the dark city, I can feel in my gut that something's stirring out there, that we're not in the clear just yet. Maybe we will be some day, but right now this all feels too easy. I know I could be wrong, but if you don't trust your own instincts, what have you got left? And my instincts have helped me get this far, so I guess I can afford to listen to them for a while longer yet.
I've been a zombie.
I know how they work.
And, looking across the city now, I know in my gut that they're still out there.
Day 199
Thomas
“Huh?”
Startled, I open my eyes and find myself on the floor of the kitchen in a fast food restaurant. For a moment I have no idea how I got here, but then I feel a pounding pain on the left side of my head, and when I try to sit up I find that my hands are tied behind my back. I look around, and everything comes flooding back as soon as I spot Riley.
“I am going to kill that asshole!” he sneers as he continues to pull on the ropes around his own wrists, which are keeping him firmly attached to a pipe on the wall. “I'm going to make him put some clothes on, and then I'm going to kill him!”
Turning, I find that I too am attached to a pipe.
“Hey, Tommy,” Riley continues, “good, you're awake. There are two of us against one of him. We need to get a move on.”
I open my mouth to reply, but my mind is still a little groggy. Finally, however, I think back to the moment when the angry naked guy charged at me a couple of days ago. He threw me to the ground and slammed my head against the side of the counter, knocking me out, and then...
And then?
I have to really concentrate, but finally I remember waking up yesterday. Riley and I struggled for hours, but the angry naked man merely came and laughed at us a few times. He seemed genuinely amused by our predicament, but he didn't actually say anything. Riley was yelling at him the whole time, but I tried to ask him some questions. He showed no interest, however, and instead he simply watched us as if we were a form of entertainment.
Finally, last night, he started beating us again.
I don't know what we did to upset him, but after a full day of listening to us he suddenly flew into a rage. He took a cooking pot from one of the cupboards and smacked Riley around the head, knocking him out, and then he came and did the same to me. And I guess I stayed unconscious all night, until I woke up just a couple of minutes ago with a splitting headache.
Which brings us back up to date.
“Tommy, are you actually going to do something?” Riley snaps. “I for one do not want that guy's schlong dangling in my face again while he beats me around the head with another pot!”
“What does he want with us?” I ask as I look around again, hoping that by some miracle I might spot something I can use.
“I don't give a damn what he wants!” Riley continues. “If that asshat thinks he can tie me up like this, he's got another thing coming!”
“Well,” I reply, “to be fair, he does seem to have tied us up pretty well.”
“He's a pervert, that's what he is,” he sneers. “I could see it written all over his face. He's probably got all these disgusting plans for us, but I'm gonna wipe that smile off his disgusting face pretty soon.” He mutters something as he twists his torso first one way and then the other. “I'm so close to getting out of this thing,” he continues. “Come on, Tommy, you're not trying hard enough.”
“What if he's not a bad guy?” I ask.
“He smacked us around the head!”
“Fair point,” I reply, as I realize that he's right. I focus on trying to pull my wrists free, but they're bound tight and I feel as if the situation's helpless.
A moment later, hearing a bumping sound nearby, I turn and look past the stoves.
“Did you hear that?” I ask Riley.
“If he's coming now,” Riley replies, “he'd better have his wits about him.”
He lets out an angry grunt, and then suddenly he pulls away from the pipe and holds his hands up for me to see.
“Bingo!” he says with a grin.
“Help me!” I gasp.
He hurries over and kneels next to me, and I wait impatiently as he pulls on the ropes around my wrists. Just as I start to worry that he might not be going to succeed, I feel one of the ropes slipping away, and I slide my hands out. My wrists are sore, but I immediately get to my feet and start looking around for a weapon.
“Now what?” I ask.
“To borrow a phrase from one of my personal heroes,” he replies, “it's clobbering time.”
He hurries over and pulls open one of the drawers.
“What do you think we should do to him first?” he continues breathlessly. “Slice off one of his ears? His nose?” He pulls out a large carving knife and turns to me. “His massive -”
“Why don't we just get out of here?” I ask.
“Huh?”
“I'm not into torturing people!” I continue. “Seriously, if he's not around, let's not go down to his level. Let's just run! We can leave him behind and never have to worry about him again. This isn't our fight!”
“You've got to be joking,” he replies, as he starts sorting through the rest of the knives. “This is a dog eat dog world, Tommy. Besides, if we run, what happens next? This naked idiot's free to just stick around and wait for someone else to fall into his trap. Even if you don't feel any bloodlust, Tommy, you should think about your fellow man. We have a duty to deal with this guy.”
“I guess you might have a point,” I reply.
Coming over to me, he hands me a large knife, and I see that he has an even larger knife in his right hand.
“This is our civic duty,” he says solemnly, “and I am not under any circumstances going to walk away. If you want to wait somewhere safe, that's fine, but I'm sticking around to smash this guy into the ground.”
“I...”
For a moment, I genuinely consider walking away, but I quickly realize that I have to stick around. For one thing, I don't want to seem like a coward, and for another thing I know that Riley's right. This guy at the restaurant, whoever he is, seems to be a complete maniac.
“Let's move,” Riley says, leading me past the stoves and toward the door that leads through to the main part of the restaurant.
Once we're at the door, we duck down and make our way behind the service counter, and then we both slowly raise our heads and peer over the edge.
The naked guy is sitting at one of the tables, and he seems to be licking something from his hands. He's also wearing headphones, and I can just about make out some kind of tinny music. I guess this guy must have had a serious stockpile of batteries when the crisis hit, because he seems pretty happy as he sits humming along to whatever music he's hearing. At the same time, he's still licking his fingers, and after a moment he wipes something from the surface of the table before licking again.
“What's he doing?” Riley whispers.
I squint as I try to see in more detail.
“I think,” I whisper, “he seems to be...”
My voice trails off.
“No,” I continue, “he can't be...”
“
That's so gross,” Riley replies, his voice filled with shock.
For a moment, we both remain on our knees and continue to watch the guy. He's sitting there quite happily, listening to music, and squashing spiders with his hands before licking them into his mouth. He just keeps doing the same thing over and over again. I could imagine someone resorting to eating spiders if they were desperate, but this guy almost seems to like the damn thing.
“Well,” Riley says finally, “I guess a guy has to get his protein from somewhere.”
“What about all those burgers?” I ask.
“Maybe he's worried about running out. I mean, it's not like he seems to have many other prospects. Do you think he's just been holed up in here the whole time, since everything went south? Has he been running around naked, and eating spiders for six months?”
“What do we do?”
“Follow my lead,” he says, crawling past me and then heading around the edge of the counter, and finally getting to his feet.
“But -”
“Relax, Tommy. He can't hear us. He's in his own little world.”
The guy at the table has his back to us. He seems so caught up in what he's doing, he hasn't even noticed that we're here. He's still humming and licking as if he doesn't have a single care in the world.
After a moment, Riley starts walking up behind him. I want to call out, to tell him not to kill the guy, but I don't want to give away our position. Instead, I watch as Riley stops behind the guy, and then I'm shocked to see him reach out and tap the naked guy on the shoulder.
The guy jumps to his feet and swings around, only for Riley to punch him square in the face. The guy falls back and crumples to the floor.
“There,” Riley says with a smile, turning to me. “It's like that old saying. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Now let's find out what this asshole's all about.”
Thomas
His eyelids flicker slightly, and I realize that he's finally starting to wake up.
