Unable to help himself, he reached out a single digit, tracing the spot on her chest where the hole had been. Her skin wasn’t warm exactly, but neither was it cold. Slightly chilled but a normal level of elasticity.
“So strange…” He trailed off, lost in thought of the possibility. Was this the next stage of evolution? Was she a super human?
“You know what’s strange? Touching a woman who’s tied to a fucking table.”
Startled, he jerked his hand back, once again stuffing it into the pocket of his lab coat. “I see you’re awake.” He met her eyes, their grey irises ringed with red. Then, he noticed the pupils. They were large like a cat and he absently wondered if they would give her excellent night vision.
“Untie me,” she snarled. Her fear was apparently gone and now replaced with rage.
Taking three large steps backward, well out of reach, he pointed to the cart. “I’ve brought you some food. When I leave the room, you’ll be released.”
“How about you release me now and I’ll show you just what I think of you.”
As fascinating as she was, being within striking distance of an Alpha zombie was enough to turn his bowels to water. “I think not. You’ll feel better after you eat.” Walking backward until he reached the door, he again make eye contact with the camera.
“I’m not hungry.”
“What did you say?” It wasn’t possible. She was a zombie, but even Alphas had to feed. There was no choice. Hunger drove them, it was their only need, overriding all other instincts.
“I said, I’m not hungry. Now let me go!” She pulled on her arms, lifting them a few inches. The brackets under her bed groaned from the stress she put on it. The straps dug deeply into her wrists, drawing blood that she didn’t seem to notice.
“That’s not possible…” He waved frantically at the camera, begging them to open the door. The loud click of the lock sounded and he rushed through the door just as a strap snapped with a loud twang.
He slammed the door shut behind him, his heart racing with fear and adrenaline. Looking through the small observation window in the door, he saw she was sitting up on the bed, both her arms free, pulling on the strap at her lap with both hands. It gave in seconds, the ends of the metal brackets clanging on the floor as she threw it aside. She freed her other foot even faster.
“Holy Mother of God.” He gasped in utter amazement. She was a work of art, created by a virus and biology. Why you? Why did you change this way and not the other? Hurrying down the hall to his lab, he was anxious to run additional tests on her DNA. They’d collected several vials of blood when she first arrived but he knew he’d need new samples. Her transformation was not complete, not yet, he was sure of it. He just hoped he could unlock her secrets.
Chapter Seven
My ears ached with the noise assaulting them. Even squinting, the light pierced through my sensitive eyes. I watched in amazement as the lacerations on my wrists from the straps healed. I wiped away the blood to find perfect skin, albeit ash in color.
“What’s happening to me?” my voice trembled. I was terrified of myself. But angry, so incredibly angry. Rage unlike anything I’d ever known burned through my body. Steeling myself for the pain of the lights, I looked up and found the camera in the corner by the door. I’d seen the doctor wave at it before the door opened.
“The lights! Turn off the lights!” I waved my arms and pointed at the ballast on the ceiling. Moments later I breathed a sigh of relief when they blinked off.
Now that I was off the table and could see properly, I surveyed my surroundings. I was in a room about the size of an average hospital room with a standard bed in the center that looked to be bolted to the floor. The walls and floor were bright white; the only color in the room was the red meat sitting on a shiny stainless steel cart near the bed. Half of one wall was an observation mirror. If they thought I was fooled they had another thing coming. Giving the mirror the finger I wanted to figure out how to cover the camera and get that door open.
Touching the slick metal of the door I found it cool under my fingers, there was no knob, just a small window about six inches tall.
“Fuck.” I did my best to ignore the smell coming from the meat behind me. The thought of that raw flesh should sicken me, but it smelled delicious and sweet. I’d lied to that doctor, I was hungry. I was so ravenous that I could feel my stomach twisting around searching for something to fill it. I refused to give in and eat people. That would make me no better than those things out there. Endlessly roaming.
“Please have a seat on the bed,” the doctor’s voice filled the room. There was a speaker in the ceiling next to the light, which would explain why I hadn’t noticed it before.
“Why should I?” Taunting him was most likely not a good idea, but I was pissed off and it made me feel better. “Just let me go. I’m not going to hurt anyone.” It sounded flat and desperate even to myself.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, you are unique. In all these months since the outbreak we’ve never seen one like you. Not only do you speak and seem to retain your memories, you’re self-aware. You know what you are and are understandably horrified by it. Your blood and body contains a wealth of knowledge that I cannot part with. You understand, don’t you?”
“I understand that you’ve been locked in this bunker, or whatever this place is, safe from the horrors out there. You’re a coward, hiding behind your walls and locks.” Resting my forehead on the door it took all my strength not to devour every scrap of flesh on that cart behind me. I wasn’t an animal. I am me. I am Molly Jeanne Everett. I won’t give in. The words became my mantra as I ignored the droning of the doctor’s voice. I could hear my own heart, slowly beating. Nowhere near a normal rhythm, the thumps were sluggish, but strong nonetheless.
Standing against the door, I took stock of my body. The blue of my fingernails was strange, but oddly complimenting the grey tone of my skin, a naturally-occurring macabre manicure. The scar from when I cut my arm on the monkey bars in third grade was bright white, nearly electric in contrast to my now darker skin. So, old scars remained but no new ones were formed. Looking down at my chest, the space between my breasts was perfect and smooth. My fast healing was freaking me out. What am I? How did this happen? I’d seen dozens of people turn, not once did one of them heal anything or get more than a gurgling moan past their lips. Yet here I was, talking and thinking like I always had.
I’d seen Alphas before, so I had some concept of what this bastard was talking about. They led their hordes and seemed to have some basic communication but not speech. I had to get out of here. I knew how this went. First, they’d discover all they could from my blood. After that, they’d want to see just how much I could heal. I wasn’t going to stick around for the torture portion of the show.
Pivoting on my bare heel, my eyes snapped to the cart of meat. Blood was slowly trickling off the side and dripping onto the white floor, each splat clearly audible to my sensitive ears. The red liquid was bright and grotesque against the otherwise clean floor. I couldn’t ignore the smell any longer. The delicious aroma reminded me of that gut-clenching moment when I would drive past a fast food place and the wind blew the smell of french fries and grease into my car… Only this was more like starving, then being led into a buffet and told it’s all you can eat. My stomach cramped with hunger unlike anything I’d ever felt.
My feet shuffled forward unwillingly. “It’s not human. This is beef. No different than eating a steak. Granted… it’s raw and bloody but it’s not a person.” Talking to myself did little to ease my disquiet at what I was about to do. The starving emptiness of my belly seemed to grow with every reluctant step. Inches from the cart now, the scent of meat was overpowering.
Reaching a trembling hand forward, I grabbed the closest piece of meat, it was cold and slippery. Using both hands I dug my fingers into the meat and brought it to my mouth. As soon as the flesh touched my tongue, my taste buds exploded with the flavor. Savory and del
icious, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine I was eating steak tar-tar, which it sort of was, and not swallowing huge chunks of raw meat whole. Not bothering to chew beyond getting it small enough swallow, I quickly finished the steak. My brain clicked off and need took over. I shoved handfuls of meat into my mouth, moaning at the intense flavor. Cold blood trickled down my elbows, dripping on the floor. The hamburger was soft and didn’t need much chewing.
Time sped up as my instincts took over, everything around me disappeared as I fed. For that is what this was. I was feeding for the first time and it felt amazing. My fingers slipped on the metal of the cart and my movements slowed. There was nothing left to eat. The cart was stained red, my fingers had made streaks in the blood like a fucked up modern art piece. I could almost see people in black standing around it with overpriced glasses of shitty wine, mumbling about its powerful message.
“How do you feel?” the doctor’s voice filled the room once again.
“Full,” I snapped. I started at my own reflection in the observation mirror. The white bra they’d put on me was now red. Evidence of my meal covered the lower half of my face and my arms were covered in what looked like red opera gloves. “I need a towel.”
“Fascinating.”
My ears buzzed and rang as my mind became clouded, my head feeling like it was full of cotton. “W-what?” I tried to speak, but it was no more than a whisper. Heat enveloped my body and sweat began to bead up and run down my skin, washing the blood away in rivulets. I could feel every muscle, each individual tendon and ligament. Holding my hands out in front of me, my vision blurred but I could see the muscles swelling. My forearms grew larger as I watched. Pain unlike anything I’d ever felt, even when being eaten, crackled through my limbs. My fingers seized and twisted into claws, my legs buckled and I smashed onto the floor. Losing control of my body, I curled into a ball, only to be jerked backward by the muscles in my back. Screams poured from my throat, high pitched and horror filled.
I was in agony and terrified that there was nothing I could do to halt the transformation.
This went on for what felt like hours but was only minutes. My limbs twitched and jerked as I continued to change. The fabric of my bra screeched as it ripped apart, followed quickly by the shorts. The seams unable to withstand the pressure of the expanding flesh they covered.
Slowly, as minutes ticked by, the pain melted away with every heartbeat. My body stopped seizing and gradually began to relax. Small spasms jerked my arms or legs randomly, sending shockwaves through my system. Finally, the pain trickled away as if it never was. I kept my eyes squeezed tightly shut, unwilling to see the monster that I’d become.
Chapter Eight
Dr. Henderson watched open mouthed, staring in awe. “She’s magnificent.” His heart raced and sweat dotted his brow. Excitement thrummed through his body like a live wire.
“What just happened?” Isaac asked stupidly.
“History,” Henderson answered. “She grew larger before our eyes. You can see her entire musculature defined under her skin. She went from emaciated to looking like a professional body builder in minutes. She’ll need to feed again and soon. Send a nurse to clean her up and dress her. I want her restrained.” Only rigid professionalism kept him from rubbing his hands together in glee.
“She broke them last time.”
“I tire of you continuously stating the obvious. Unless you can contribute, keep your mouth closed.” Losing his composure for a moment, Sam pressed the intercom, ordering a nurse to attend to his patient. “We cannot afford any mistakes. We may never again get an opportunity like this one.”
“Understood,” The nurse replied.
Scowling, Isaac left the room, perhaps shutting the door harder than necessary.
A short, heavyset nurse with long black hair carefully tied back swiped her keycard and entered the room, her arms full of clothing and towels. Molly remained on the floor, unmoving. Not even her chest moved as she breathed. The doctor was confident she was still alive—undead—he corrected himself.
The nurse’s face drained of all color, fear tightening her features. Reaching out a hand, she gently touched her patient’s shoulder. There was no response. Glancing over her shoulder at the mirror where she knew he watched, the nurse turned the woman onto her back.
Her nakedness bothered him. Her full breasts were stained with blood nearly the same color as her nipples. He thought it strange that her skin was grey but the subject’s areolas remained pink and appeared unchanged in appearance from those of an uninfected woman. Uncomfortable and ashamed with his inappropriate response, Dr. Henderson turned his back to the mirror. He would give Nurse M, the only name her knew her as, a few moments to clean and dress his patient, and himself time to compose his feelings.
He counted to two hundred in his head before turning back to the mirror. What he saw confused him, he couldn’t quite make out what he saw. The mirror was dark red, smeared unevenly across most of the surface. “What?” Getting close to the mirror, he squinted, just able to make out the remains of Nurse M. “Oh my god!”
The desk before him was equipped with a panic button. Smacking it, he braced himself for the screeching alarms and strobes.
A fist smashed through the glass, grabbing him by the throat. He gasped and choked, staring disbelieving at the grey arm holding him. The pressure increased, he could feel his throat collapsing under the crushing weight of her strength. He was jerked forward, his head and face smacking off the glass, once, twice. Dazed and out of oxygen he pounded on her arm, his blows weak and ineffective. The final thing he saw was his patient wiping away the blood on the glass. She smiled evilly before squeezing her fingers harder. Her face framed by red stained glass making her all the more terrifying. His bladder released in his final, shameful moment of life.
****
I dropped his dead and limp body onto the floor. His blood had sprayed like a fountain when I ripped his throat out. I moved quickly, wiping down haphazardly with towels and jerking the shirt and pants the nurse had brought onto my nude body. Grabbing her keycard, I wiped her blood off the plastic onto her jacket. I waved it at the door where a knob would be. A loud click sounded and the door swung open. Glancing left and then right, I saw no one. With no idea where to go to get out, I followed my ears. My hearing was excellent. I’d been able to hear the doctor’s heartbeat behind the glass.
The alarm screamed and echoed through the long halls. I took a left, then a right, heading toward people. I’d make someone tell me the way out. Popping my head around a corner, there were troops ahead. Dressed in heavy riot gear and holding rifles, they no doubt blocked the exit.
“Hey, fuck faces, it’s me, the killer zombie queen,” I shouted. “I won’t hurt you if you step aside. Move and you can live.”
Their gasps of shock weren’t unexpected. A talking zombie? Who knew that was a thing?
“You know we can’t do that,” a gruff voice responded.
“I can kill all of you before you get a shot off. You willing to take that chance? I’m not the bad guy here. I just want to get out of this horror show. Move and live. Decide now.” Leaning my back against the wall, I concentrated on hearing them. One voice, young by the tone, was all for letting me by. The commander said no, they had to stay put. I couldn’t be allowed to leave. He threatened death to the cowards in his group.
Not giving them a chance to advance, I sprinted around the corner. My improved speed and immense strength took them by surprise. The first soldier I came to, I jerked his head to the side, and used his body to take the shot I heard leaving the barrel of the commander’s weapon. Dropping the dead soldier, I swiped his rifle, firing into the remaining men. Their blood spread across the hallway like a river.
“Okay, so I was wrong, you did get a shot off,” I quipped. “But I got more.” Ignoring the alluring scent of their flesh, I ran further, keeping the rifle gripped in my hands. It felt strange and unfamiliar, as guns in general were a mystery to me.
Continuing to follow the sounds of panic, I skidded to a stop at what I saw through glass windows on either side of the hallway. Cages. Each housed zombies, six or seven to a room. They were regular meat sacks, not like me. These were the rotting, shambling corpses that I was used to. I slowed to a walk as I passed them. Each cage I came to, they stopped moving and stared at me. Their milky white eyes followed me, and they rushed to the glass, pounding on it. They screeched as they tried to reach me. The key card was still in my pocket, with a knowledge I couldn’t explain, I knew they wouldn’t hurt me. Swiping the card at each door I came to, the light flashed red. The doors wouldn’t open.
“Fine, we’ll do it the other way.” Dropping the rifle, I picked a room. Tapping on the glass with my knuckles, it felt like plastic not glass. “Okay, Plexiglas. Let’s see if this works.” I backed up a step and eyed the spot I would aim for. Drawing back my arm, I punched the plastic. It gave with a crack and my arm was through to my elbow. Several mouths suctioned onto my skin, licking the blood off me. “Oh fuck, that’s nasty. Stop it!” I shouted. They froze, not letting go of me but they stopped cleaning the blood off me. “Wow, okay, that’s fucking weird. Let me go.” One by one they released me. “Step back.” Each zombie took a step back, like it was a game of Simon Says, only this was horrifying and not funny in the least.
Mentally filing the information away for later, I peeled the glass back, expanding the hole. I kicked to speed up the process and soon had a hole large enough for them to crawl through.
Zombie Instinct (Book 1): Molly (The Beginning) Page 3
