Tonight The World Dies

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Tonight The World Dies Page 8

by White, Amber


  “Please. Kill me before I turn.” I begged.

  “No. No one is going to kill you. You are part of my experiment, and when I bring you back, you will thank me for not letting you die.” Bobby said.

  He withdrew the needle and replaced it with a cotton ball held down by tape.

  “Let’s see what we have here.” Bobby said, walking away from me. The group followed.

  I was left alone on that table, unable to move. I sobbed quietly to myself, all my strength, all my sarcasm, now gone.

  “According to what her blood shows, it won’t take more than a day to fully set in. She’ll be ready by dinner tomorrow.” Bobby said.

  “Will you be alright down here by yourself with her?” Steven said.

  “Of course. Now, if one of you would help me with this gentleman, I can dispose of him. He’s no longer of any use.” Bobby said, striding to the holding cell.

  I could hear the rope scrape against the glass, the zombie thrashing and gnarling against it. The cell door opened; someone walked inside it. The zombie gave one last wheezing snarl, and fell silent.

  “Take him outside please. Brennan, you know where we’ve been putting them.” Bobby said.

  Someone dragged the zombie out of the cell, and up the stairs, two pairs of footsteps following it.

  “I hope this works Bobby, for your sake.” Brennan said from near the stairs.

  Bobby didn’t say anything. Instead, he came to stand next to me, a smile plastered to his face.

  “How do you feel?” He asked.

  “Cold.” I said. “And my hand hurts.”

  “The infection is working quickly.” He said, still smiling. “Pretty soon I’ll let you out of those bonds, and I’ll start running some tests on you.”

  I shuddered. If it wasn’t bad enough that I was going to die, he was going to poke and prod me until I did.

  Bobby walked out of view for a moment, humming merrily to himself, and came back with several small plastic things connected to wires. He placed them on my head and chest, still humming, and clamped something soft onto my index finger. He wheeled an old EKG machine over and connected the wires to it. It beeped loudly. My heart rate was slower than I expected at first, but quickly began to race as my breath picked up in tempo.

  “Very good.” Bobby said to himself.

  He watched the monitor for a while as it as the beeps kept time with my heart. The pain in my hand was growing stronger, as everything else started to fade.

  “Let’s begin, shall we?” He said.

  Chapter seventeen

  He loosened the straps around me and forced me to sit up. I didn’t fight. I was in too much pain to fight anymore.

  Bobby set to work, testing my reflexes and coordination. I did as I was told, reacting on autopilot. He scribbled something on a paper, saying it as he wrote.

  “Patient is mentally lethargic, but coordination and reflexes remain intact and normal.”

  He set the pen down and turned to me again.

  “Ok, cognitive tests next!” He said.

  He had me pick out shapes and colors, forcing me to do simple word problems and use one of those children’s toys with the different shaped blocks and holes.

  “Do this as quickly as you can.” He said.

  I obeyed.

  “Patient’s cognitive clarity remains unhampered.” He said, writing on his paper again.

  Time moved slower than Alice’s fall down the rabbit hole. I was tested again and again, made to do the same things over and over, with agonizingly long breaks in between.

  “At the three hour marker, a fresh blood draw shows promising results. Infection is now at thirty percent.” He said, scribbling quickly.

  I was getting colder, shivering in my chair as he watched.

  “Patient’s temperature is dropping.” He said.

  He didn’t ask me to do anything for a while after that, he just sat and watched me instead. After what seemed like an eternity, he drew my blood again.

  “Infection is at seventy percent at the five hour marker.” He mumbled.

  I knew I was getting closer to turning, but I couldn’t do anything. Though my body and mind were working perfectly, I couldn’t make my libs do what I wanted. They acted all on their own. I simply sat there and huffed, my heartbeat getting faster and faster. He pulled off the electrodes, wiping the gel from them off my skin with a bit of paper towel. I hadn’t seen a paper towel in ages.

  “The infection is almost completely set in.” He said to me. “I’m going to go upstairs to get something to eat. Do you want anything?”

  I tried to say no, but it came out a low moan. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty or much of anything else except cold. Who did he think he was, anyways? Leaving me alone, moments from my turning completely, to get something to eat?

  “Then get inside the cell, please.” He said, holding the cell door open.

  I ambled forward on his command and retreated into the depths of the glass cage. He locked the door behind me and drew the curtains around it, giving me some privacy. Not that it mattered anymore.

  I didn’t know how long Bobby was gone, but when he came back the cold feeling was worse, and my heart felt like it was going to tango right out of my chest.

  “Drink this.” He said, opening the cell door and handing me a glass of water.

  I tried, but I couldn’t make the water stay in my mouth, let alone go down my throat. I held it back out to him in a shaking hand.

  “No, drink it.” He said.

  I thrust the cup forward again.

  He sighed, took it from me, and tilted my head back, pouring the remaining water down my throat. I gagged. Water dribbled down my chin, drenching my clothes and sprinkling the floor.

  “Damn it.” He said. “Why won’t you just drink it?”

  I stared at him. He was supposed to be the medical genius, he should figure it out.

  “Hmm.” He said. “You can’t drink it, can you?”

  I shook my head slowly. That small movement was enough to make me gasp silently in pain. My head felt like it was going to split open.

  “Interesting.” He mumbled, scribbling in his notes. “Near completion of infection, patient is unable to drink water. May have to force fluids intravenously for further testing.”

  He strapped me down to the table again, jabbing me with yet another needle. This needle was attached to a long thin tube, which he secured to an IV bag filled with clear liquid.

  “Saline solution.” He said when he saw me looking at it.

  I moaned softly.

  “Can you talk?” He asked.

  I moaned again, swearing at him in my mind. I think I forgot how to speak.

  “Very interesting.” He said, and scribbled into his notes. “Patient seems unable to speak after six hours. At best, she can make a faint moaning sound in response to questions, or to acknowledge statements made to her.”

  The saline that dripped steadily down the tube and into my arm was beginning to burn. My veins felt like they were on fire. I tried to scream, making a pitiful high-pitched rasping sound instead. I struggled against the cuffs holding me down. Bobby rushed to my side.

  “What is it?” He said.

  I looked down at the needle in my arm, praying he would understand.

  “Is this hurting you?” He said.

  I nodded vigorously, the world spinning with the movement.

  He pulled the needle out of me, and wrapped the small puncture in medical tape.

  “Patient reacts terribly to saline. It seems to cause her a great deal of pain.” He said, writing furiously. “Perhaps it is best to allow the infection to run its course without medical aid to ease the patient.”

  ‘Moron.’ I thought. Zombies all over the world were turned without medical attention given to the infected. It happened with or without the medications doctors and hospitals gave them.

  Another agonizingly long time passed before he drew blood again; I was starting to think I wouldn’t have
any blood left by the time he was done.

  “Remarkable. The patient is at ninety nine percent at the ten hour marker.” He said, scribbling once again into his notes.

  Had it really been ten hours since I was bitten? It seemed like it had been longer. An eternity, really. Like I had been slowly submerged in the fires of Hell.

  Bobby came to my side, making sure the bonds were secure, and smoothed my hair.

  “It’s almost time.” He said.

  No shit Sherlock. I may be turning into a freaking zombie, but I’m not dumb.

  My heart jackhammered in my chest; my vision dimmed. My body relaxed even as my mind screamed to fight it with every remaining ounce of strength I had left (which wasn’t much). This was it. I was going to die, not knowing what happened to my friends, who had become my family. I closed my eyes, and eventually everything became still.

  Chapter eighteen

  I woke up screaming. Except I wasn’t really screaming. The voice that ripped through my throat was alien to me. It was high pitched and crackling, coming out a terrible growling roar rather than the scream I so desperately wanted to hear. I wasn’t myself anymore.

  Bobby was standing over me, enthusiastic.

  “It’s time to inject the serum!” He said.

  I tried to bite him, but a newly placed strap across my forehead prevented me from moving. I strained at the leather cuffs, trying to break free and scratch and bite the living hell out of that jerk. He looked like a giant steak, and I was so hungry. I would gladly devour him if I could get free.

  Bobby pulled out a rather large needle and syringe filled with the same clear liquid he had used on the slides a few weeks ago. Or was it days? I don’t remember. Time had no meaning to me anymore. The only thing that mattered was food. Hot, wet food. He jabbed the needle into my arm, and I didn’t feel a thing. I was still trying to scream at him.

  Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs.

  “What’s going on?” Someone shouted.

  “It’s alright. She is fully infected now, and I just injected her with the serum. We should be seeing a change any moment now.” Bobby said, looking over me to the stairs.

  Several people stepped closer, hiding just out of view.

  “Don’t be shy, gather ‘round. You won’t want to miss this.” Bobby said.

  They wouldn’t want to miss this? What was I, a science fair project? A freaking spectacle?

  The people stepped closer. Brennan, Todd, Andy, Sparky, and Steven were surrounding me.

  I tried to swear loudly at them, but it came out as yet another keening growl, so I glared at them.

  “Is she…Is she glaring at us?” Todd asked.

  “It would seem so.” Bobby said.

  Well, weren’t they the brightest crayons in the box?

  “Come on little firecracker. Come back to us.” Todd whispered.

  “Eff you.” I said.

  I actually spoke! It was still growly, and didn’t sound like me, but I spoke! The men jumped back, and laughed.

  “It worked!” They said.

  “You bastard,” I glared at Bobby. “I hate you.”

  “She has returned with zest! Tell me, how do you feel?” Bobby said, gleefully undoing the straps holding me down.

  “I’ll tell you how I feel you . . . I feel like I’m going to cut your heart out and eat it!” I shouted, jumping off the table and grabbing onto him.

  I wanted to rip through his chest and eat his intestines while he watched.

  “Oh no you don’t.” Brennan said, grabbing onto me.

  I threw him off. Todd, Andy, and Steven grabbed onto me, holding me off of Bobby while Brennan helped him to his desk, and Sparky held a gun to my head.

  “Go ahead and kill me. That freak turned me into a monster!” I screeched, my voice slowly returning to normal.

  “Don’t kill her!” Bobby shouted over me. “She’s cured! She just has to let the serum work its way through the rest of her body.”

  “You won’t feel so angry after a while. This is just the last traces of the disease leaving your body.” He said, looking at me.

  I growled.

  “Put her in the cell.” He told the boys.

  They lifted me off the ground and threw me into the cell, slamming the door shut and locking it firmly as quickly as they could.

  I rushed to the door and hammered against it.

  “Just you effing wait until I get out of here.” I screamed.

  “She’s got quite the set of lungs on her.” Steven said.

  “Screw you jerk.” I said, kicking the door. It shuddered.

  “I can’t believe you did it Bobby. It really worked.” Todd said.

  “I’ve found that the greatest pleasure in life is doing the things that others say is impossible.” Bobby said.

  “Why don’t we go upstairs and celebrate while she calms down?” Brennan said.

  I glared at them as they passed. I could feel their uneasiness and licked my lips. Fear would make their meat taste so much better.

  As I stood there by myself, away from the temptation of fresh meat, lonely, heartbroken tears trickled from my eyes. I was a danger to those around me, unable to control my anger or my hunger. I knew that if one of them came down here, unarmed, I would try to sink my teeth into their sinewy flesh even if the thought repulsed me while I was alone. I kicked the glass hard, making it shake dangerously. I took a calming breath. My heart was still racing, so I made an effort to slow that as well. I tried to concentrate on the faces of my friends, and how wonderful it would be to see them again, but my mind turned to their soft, warm flesh and how it would feel as I chewed it thoroughly. I sank to the floor, sobbing into my hands.

  “Jo?” Andy’s voice said.

  I hadn’t heard him come back down.

  “What?” I said, wiping my eyes.

  “I brought you some steak.” He said.

  I perked up.

  “You brought me food?” I said.

  “Yes.” He said.

  “Well then, hurry up. Bring it over here!” I said, rising to my knees.

  He slid the plate through a slot in the door. I grabbed it from him, drooling, and scurried away.

  “Thanks.” I said.

  “You’re welcome.” He said. “Oh, wait, I forgot your silverwea…” He stopped.

  I was already devouring the chunk of meat with my bare hands, ripping viciously at it like an animal. Andy stared at me with his mouth open. I looked up at him sheepishly.

  “It’s a little overdone.” I said.

  “It’s medium-rare.” He said.

  “It would be better rare.” I said, wolfing down the last of it and licking my fingers.

  He narrowed his eyes and took a breath, like he was getting ready to say something, but thought better of it and looked away.

  I crawled back over to the door and pushed the plate back through the slot, holding onto it with a couple fingers until he took it gingerly from me.

  “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” I said, smiling.

  “A little.” He said.

  “Good.” I said, the smile gone from my face.

  The steak has slated my hunger temporarily, but the desire to feed on him was still strong. The basement door opened, and slow footsteps plotted down.

  “Why don’t you let me out of here?” I whispered, grinning evilly.

  Chapter nineteen

  “I wouldn’t suggest that.” Bobby said.

  “Who asked you?” I said, turning to glare at him.

  “Are you sorry for attacking me?” He asked.

  “No.” I said. “You pissed me off, and turned me into a effing zombie. How else am I supposed to react to you?”

  “Then you aren’t going to be let free just yet.” He said.

  “Are you going to need any help down here?” Andy asked.

  “No, I don’t think she’ll be any trouble” Bobby said.

  “Well, if you do, just shout.” Andy said.

 
“I will.” Bobby said, ushering Andy to the stairs.

  “That’s right. Ignore the zombie girl.” I said.

  “Are you ready for your tests?” Bobby smiled.

  “Are you ready to get your skull cracked open?” I said.

  “The more you misbehave and threaten me, the longer you will have to wait before you can see your friends.” He said.

  I stopped for a moment. “Fine.” I said, huffing.

  “Fine, what?” He said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Let’s get these stupid tests over with.” I said.

  “Are you going to attack me?” He asked.

  “I’ll try not to.” I said.

  “Do or do not. There is no try.” He said.

  “Yoda, you are not.”

  He opened the door.

  I walked calmly past him, holding my breath. He had smelled so good through the glass.

  “Ok,” He said when I sat on the examination table. “We will do a few tests now, and if I am satisfied, you will be allowed to visit the rest of the house. After that, I will have to closely monitor you and run more tests every so often.”

  “Get on with it.” I said.

  “We’ll start with another blood draw.” He said.

  He picked up a needle and stepped closer. I looked away, steeling myself against the desire to tear him apart.

  “Are you going to prick me with the damn needle or not? I haven’t got all day.” I said.

  “I already have. In fact, it’s been several seconds since I took the needle back out.” Bobby said.

  I looked down. Sure enough, the crook of my arm was once again hidden beneath medical tape.

  “You didn’t feel that?” He said.

  “No.” I said.

  “Odd. Patient claims to have not felt a blood draw, even though I had to reposition the needle twice.” He said, writing.

  “So what’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” He said.

  “Then why don’t you tell me why I couldn’t speak when I went full on zombie, before you injected me.” I said.

 

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