Crawling through the sewer, the filth that surrounds us feels good on my skin and soothes the constant burning. We have no idea where we are going, but we hear sounds, like music, so we follow that. We also hear gunshots above us and realize the rest of our folks have headed towards the soldiers. Bob says that many of them were dying anyway and that this is a heroic sacrifice. His ability to speak is improving. I know that they don’t have the slightest idea what they are doing anymore, but Bob is right, despite himself. They provide an excellent decoy. We look up and see a manhole cover that has bright light shining through it. We climb the ladder, 15 of us total, push it open and climb out inside of a parking garage.
A car stereo is playing very loud music ahead and a man sits in the car reading a comic book. He doesn’t hear us as we approach. Before he can react we tear his body apart and feed. We continue on and enter double glass doors and find ourselves looking down into a large theater. Organ music is playing and I now see what is going on. It is a concert of some kind and all that are in attendance aren’t Healthies at all. Everyone is like us. There are people in robes on the stage and they are moaning along with the music. On second glance, the main person--what appears to be a minister--is an uninfected man. This is a CHURCH!
The parishioners on stage wearing robes kneel down in a circle and the minister drags out a live, and obviously drugged, healthy body. Then he reads a prayer.
“Lord we give thanks for the bounty you have given us. Let us enjoy and celebrate in your name. Amen.”
They feast, but don’t Frenzy. It is almost mannerly how they tear the flesh from the barely-struggling body and devour it. He brings another drugged Healthy out and the audience lines up and comes forward for what looks like communion. The minister cuts off pieces of the body and gives a piece to each of the infected that pass by, in a very orderly fashion.
“Come, take, this is my body I give unto you” he says.
He has organized the infected into a congregation and for some reason they are not attacking. I look around and all of our group but Michelle, Bob, and I have began walking down the isles.
“STOP!” The minister says over a loud PA system. “We have new members that wish to join us.” Soldiers come out from behind the sides of the pews and grab our people.
The minister welcomes them and they are forced into line and he gives each of them a piece of the body. They eat and are taken to sit down. They are entranced by the minister and whatever he is saying. I don’t get it all but it sounds like he is reading from the book of Revelation.
Those on the stage in robes stand up and go to the altar. The minister dips their heads in a large baptismal font. After that they each pick up a candle.
The minister chants, over and over, “Cleanse and thou wilt be cleansed, by fire thy soul will ascend... Cleanse and thou wilt be cleansed, by fire thy soul will ascend... Cleanse and thou wilt be cleansed, by fire thy soul will ascend”, the congregation joining in as they light themselves on fire. They go up so fast there has to be something flammable in that font. The crowd stares at them and doesn’t move. They then begin to cheer.
I shout out “Help them, help them!!!”
The minister looks at me in horror. Everyone turns and stares. They all stare at me, all of the infected. The minister cries out that I am a demon sent by the Devil himself. That my “kind” cannot speak. He runs off the stage and up the steps through the crowd towards me. As he comes closer I can tell he truly is uninfected, and quite mad. He jumps on top of me and stabs me with a large knife. I grab his head and bite hard into his neck. He drops to the floor and I eat him. No one joins, he is left for me.
I walk to the stage and I begin to preach. This captive audience, for the most part, barely understands. Soldiers in the seats seem to get it. “They are trying to kill us all. Has the Army sent help for you men?” Disapproving groans resonate. I continue to talk, moving through the crowd and gaining their minds and hearts. These are my people. I will lead them. I will teach them to walk, to talk... to fight.
Leaving the church I am ready to join in the battle we avoided before. But it is all but over. There is evidence of Frenzy, thousands of dead and wounded, and the remainder of both sides staggering around lost. I decide to head toward the State Government buildings to look for food and information. Unfortunately, I find neither. The people are gone, evacuated it seems. Cleanly gone, not killed and eaten. There are partially burned documents and computers that have been destroyed. Where were these people evacuated to? Then I come upon a thick document on a printer. The heading is Virally Reanimated And Functioning Inorganic Humanoid Lifeforms (V-RAFs). After a quick glance I realize that this is what they are “officially” calling us. I will have to read this thoroughly. But first I need to make sure my people are fed.
We haven’t eaten for a while, and if we don’t feed soon more cannibalism will follow--more infighting, and I can’t have that. We can search more buildings later, I know where we need to go. I get the attention of everyone, maybe only 500 now, and they follow me en route to the suburbs. This has to be where at least some of the missing Healthies went.
We stick to back streets and it takes a few hours but we arrive, only to find empty homes. They have to be around somewhere! We continue on and see lights in the distance when night falls. A lot of Healthies look to have set up camps just outside the neighborhoods. We creep into the camps expecting resistance but there isn’t much. Maybe they are exhausted. Maybe they thought we would stay near the houses and that there would only be a few, uh, V-RAFs coming at a time and that would make us easily handled. They were wrong if that was it. There are over a hundred people here, asleep, and unsuspecting. Not nearly the number that had been in the city, but enough for our needs. We circle around the camp and close in. Some shots are fired but there are too many of us and I don’t think these folks counted on an organized attack. We feed, all night.
When morning light comes I read the document I took off that printer. It tells the horrifying story that I discovered while watching experiments back in Leesburg when I thought I might be dreaming. It seems that this virus KILLS people. It then reanimates the body creating the inorganic life forms I am currently leading around. In addition, it is airborn and reanimates recently dead bodies, but the airborn virus does not infect Healthies. It doesn’t say it kills everyone, but I have to know. I go up to my men and women one by one and feel, patiently this time, for a pulse, a heart beat, something. I feel a weak heartbeat in everyone! We are not dead! Is it possible we are alive and simply infected with a virus? If we are alive, maybe we will eventually die from this. So I, we, have to find a cure! We need our lives back!
I read on and learn this virus that reanimates the body would cause the heart to pump and even a pulse to sometimes register by pushing any lifeless blood around a useless circulatory system. Even beating with no blood in the body; after all, it is a muscle so it would keep beating. My mind is sharp and I feel alive! Admittedly, some of my people are quite obviously brain dead. Some, like me, have barely any blood left at all with large gaping wounds that have long since bled out. And I remember being underwater so long without breathing.
We are dead. I mustn’t fool myself. It’s just so hard to accept...
But how does a virus reanimate dead flesh? What remains? I know first hand that the effects are different on different people. I have seen freshly infected people change over time into staggering non-thinking nothings that I have to practically drag along with me. Yet I am not nearly as affected, and am improving daily. It’s the same with Bob and Michelle. I have to find out more information. I have to find a working computer and get on whatever remains of the internet. With no radio, no TV, no newspapers there is no other way I can find out what is really going on in the world.
We head back toward the city and see no life at all. Nothing. We cross the highway and head into a different set of buildings. We walk into these offices and they are full of equipment, working equipment, and full filing cabi
nets. There is electrical power here. I seem to be able to relearn on my own so I will find a computer, sit down, and figure out how I used to use it. I have to. Just then I look over and Michelle is already seated at a PC. She has inserted her DOD-issued Common Access Card and logged into the DOD machine and motions me over. Can she read my mind? Or are we just thinking alike? I have since pushed her eye back into the socket and wrapped a tan scarf around her head, off center, to cover it. Every time I see it I remember what I did and how pretty she looked before. But to tell the truth, something about her rotting, oozing flesh attracts me as well.
Confused, I sit beside her and over the next few days we both slowly figure out how to access what remains of the internet. There are sites out there being maintained by people all over the country, all over the world. I haven’t found any sites or blogs maintained by infected but I wasn’t really expecting any. We work, and we stop to stalk and feed, and many Healthies who didn’t leave are hiding within the buildings we now occupy.
We take Richmond for ourselves and set up a command post. But it isn’t the first city taken by the dead and it won’t be the last. We are learning more every day. Many buildings still have power and its not the roof generator providing it. This alone tells us there are still healthy people running things somewhere. Healthy people with warm blood pumping through hot flesh. They are our food.
As Michelle attempts to teach Bob and a few others how to use the technology, I continue to read. Apparently the Healthies think they will be safe in the North; where it’s below or near freezing all the time. Us V-RAFs freeze up in the cold weather, the documents say. Can’t move, can’t attack. Well we won’t freeze up with me outfitting us for the cold. There will be answers in Washington, this is true, but the seat of North American Government--The Northern Alliance--is moving north high into Canada to re-establish civilized government, and then a civilized world. Translation, they are going to organize and kill all of us. There are millions of them still alive, the uninfected, the Healthies. The vaccination is said to still be working, keeping the uninfected uninfected.
So, it looks like the real answers are north. Far north, but no bother... we will go. To Washington, then to New York, then to Canada. We will find them and we will find answers and they will pay.
As soon as Michelle, Bob, and I learn to drive the buses in front of this building.
It shouldn’t be hard at all. We have nothing but time right now, and the internet is a wonderful thing.
7
Washington is Next
The human body is an amazing thing. It is a masterpiece of engineering, and with proper nutrition, maintains itself. The virally reanimated body, not so much. My people are dying, or dead. The virus does seem to somehow use the food we eat as nutrition, but there is evidence of decomposition in our ranks. Wounds don’t heal at all; they remain. They ooze. We are not dried-out like a mummy or decomposed body you might imagine in a grave. We are oozing, bleeding, fluid-ridden, and pus-filled. I ooze a lot and bleed a bit sometimes. Other times I don’t. There are little or no maggot infestations, the virus must kill parasitic organisms that would normally prey on rotting flesh. Broken ankles eventually become missing feet. I continue doctoring folks up with duct tape, wire, and whatever else I can find. It is pathetic. Rotting limbs fall off, and the pain is nearly unbearable. Nerve endings must be the last thing to go. Plus I’m sure the psycho-somatic aspect is there. Imagined pain can be just as real, and there’s also the shock of just falling apart. The only thing that really seems to help is the Frenzy brought on by feeding on the Healthies. The feeling of intense anger and the release that killing them gives us is like the highest high any drug could supply. It hurts to see innocent citizens dying before my eyes and our government ignoring us like we are animals. A species it wants to erase. Kill. This is GENOCIDE, make no mistake. And it feels so sweet to strike back. Revenge is my drug of choice. And I love to get high...
The way the roads are now, a bus ride to Washington could take several hours instead of the normal two. But walking would take days, or even weeks in our condition. Stopping buses to feed is not an option. Many of us are now hard to control. If the desire to feed comes on even one of us in the close quarters of a bus, it will take us all over. Simply put, we have to bring food with us. Live food. Live Healthies.
Bob, Steve, and Mike have already captured what appears to be a family that was hiding in the building. There are many more of them in there. Steve and Mike obviously want to devour them, but Bob realizes we need to bring them along. We stow them in the luggage area under the bus secretly so the others don’t go wild. A father, mother, and 3 children. I feel a twinge of what amounts to sorrow, especially that the smallest girl will die. But that is quickly erased when I draw obvious pleasure from the terrified look on her face. I have never felt satisfaction in the pain of others before. I am a monster now, there is no denying it.
The whole family is horrified, perhaps more so knowing we aren’t as lifeless and dumb as many of us seem. Two more groups of Healthies are brought to the buses. We get one stowed in the luggage area but the other group is screaming so loud it gets the attention of our people. They hear and there is nothing we can do but let them feed. Another group will need to be found and stowed. I join in and eat the face of a blond woman.
We have practiced our driving over the past few days and while it will be hard to get all of us on three buses, it would, again, be even more difficult for all of us to walk the entire way on creaking joints, on lifeless or near lifeless legs. Michelle and I have done well, while Bob seemingly struggles to maintain concentration. But he is all we have. The three of us are clearly the most intelligent. Others are gauged simply on their ability to learn and follow instruction. Original intelligent ideas are no longer evident in any of them. But they are all here. They feel pain. And they matter.
Getting our people on the buses isn’t easy, so I throw a Healthy in the passenger area of each bus. This makes it easy to get everyone on board. While they devour their prey, the three of us can start the engines and head toward our nation’s capital. For answers, and revenge.
For the most part we make good passengers. The humming of the bus seems to calm everyone, and most eventually take seats. I have Steve on my bus. Mike is on Michelle’s, and Bob has a woman named Alma. These three are very capable of carrying out instructions. When they are given a signal they go below the bus through an access door in the floor and retrieve a Healthy for the group. I get uncomfortable when they finally bring up the small girl on our bus. Her parents had been eaten and I enjoyed that, but I just can’t take pleasure in this killing. Maybe I’m not the monster I think I am. Unfortunately, putting it to a vote is not going to happen and she is quickly torn apart and devoured.
As we near the city of Springfield, I can see what looks like a wall blocking the highway in the distance. There are trees on either side of the highway and the wall goes deep into them. Michelle and Bob are behind me. As we approach it I can see that there are huge numbers of infected people on this side, just milling about. Hundreds of us. Michelle and I slow down our buses as we approach, but all of the sudden Bob’s bus speeds by and slams hard into the wall... and goes through, eventually coming to a stop. I don’t know if he did it on purpose or not. Michelle and I stop our buses, get out, and head to Bob’s. Almost noone is on it. They were all below at time of impact, including Bob. They had crawled down looking for more food I guess. How long was the bus driverless?
We walk over to the wall, and upon further inspection, it was obviously put up quickly and looked like nothing more than the kind used to keep sound out of neighborhoods near highways. An easy thing to take down, unless you didn’t know it was so weak; or how to drive a bus. I then look at what is on the other side and can’t believe my eyes.
Absolutely nothing. It is all gone. Completely leveled for miles, as far as I can see. Was the wall built after what ever did this? But by who, and why? If it was a familiar highway sound proofing
wall, why would it block I-95? Had the Healthies nuked the area after leaving it to burn all of the infected? Burning seemed to be a recurring theme. But why build a wall? Some of the older stone buildings in the distance were still standing, but we had to keep going and find the Pentagon. There would be answers there. And people I imagine.
We are on foot from now on. No passable roads for buses, only rubble. No nothing actually. We get everyone off the buses and I realize that food is going to be a problem. This wasteland seems to hold no life at all. Soon it will be everyone for himself. I look over and realize Michelle is thinking the same thing. I grab her by the arm to let her know she is staying with me now. We will protect each other. A bloody faced Bob stares at us. He is slipping away, and he knows it. I don’t think we can trust him anymore. He seems intelligent enough to know how to survive, but lost enough not to care about much else.
We head North, our numbers in the hundreds once more as we are joined by others on the way. After hours of walking, past the fires in the distance, I see a city. Probably Arlington, VA. I can’t really tell, but it doesn’t look damaged at all. I figure if we followed it as a beacon we would hit the Pentagon, or what was left of it. And then out of nowhere it begins. Frenzy. My people begin to attack each other and there is nothing I can do to stop them. I try, screaming at the top of my lungs, but they are mesmerized, killing each other and eating ravenously. I look at Michelle and see she is slipping slowly into Frenzy so I hold her back. Bob is ripping through the group tearing oozing, rotting limbs from poor souls.
Het Madden, A Zombie Perspective: Book One: WRATH 2012 (Volume 1) Page 6
