Morgan said nothing, still looking skeptically at the screen.
“Morgan. Holy shit. Morgan, it makes sense. Think about it. People biting other people? That guy who got hit by the truck and smacked his head? How did he get back up? Morgan.”
“Don’t even say it!”
“They’re zombies.”
Morgan rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air, “Of course you would think that.”
Alex pointed at the TV screen. “How do you explain that? That dude is totally dead! That lady on your car didn’t have any lungs!”
“Corpses twitching on the ground are not going to turn this virus into some voodoo horror film cliché. Give me a break, Alex. I don’t want to joke around about this.”
“I’m not joking! That woman on your car was doing a lot more than twitching!”
Alex stared at Morgan with a very serious look on his face, trying to resist an urge. He finally gave in and walked over to the wall that his samurai swords hung on and grabbed his favorite one. He carried it back over to the chair, keeping it next to him. Morgan burst out laughing.
“I’m not joking Morgan.” Alex kept his chin pointed up, ignoring her continued laughter. “You can believe anything you want. What I see are god-damned zombies.”
“Oh my god, Alex,” Morgan just kept laughing. “I totally can’t take you seriously right now.” She stood up and walked to the window in his kitchen, looking out onto the street.
“Alex, come look at this.”
Alex stood up, carrying his sword with him. He peeked over her shoulder and out the window. He saw three men walking across the street, looking in the window of an electronics store. One was missing an arm and the other two looked like police officers. All of them were covered in blood.
“Shit. Not even the cops are safe.” Morgan checked her cell phone again with no luck and set it on the kitchen table. “So what do we do, just stay here until the TV tells us to come out?”
“If you want.” Alex kept looking out the window. “You’re totally welcome to stay. I don’t want you going outside. Just seems like a bad idea until we figure this out.”
“Well, I’m not going back to my empty house.” Morgan dropped back onto the couch. “I guess we can just wait it out. Together.”
Alex wanted to tell her that Christopher would be fine. He wanted to assure her that everything would go back to normal soon. Before he could speak, he watched the two infected officers and the one-armed man run across the street, chasing one of his neighbors toward the front door of his apartment building.
“Yeah,” he mumbled quietly, gripping the handle of his sword. “Together.”
Day 1
8:14 pm
Alex turned off the TV when the screams started downstairs. They sat in the living room as quietly as they could. Alex gripped the samurai sword tightly in one hand, and Morgan’s hand in the other. Slowly, the screams had worked their way through the building. It did not take long for them to make it to the third floor. The sun was just setting, but Alex hadn’t dared turn on any lights.
“I think I hear them next door,” Morgan whispered. Alex could feel her shivering.
Alex held his breath, trying hard to listen to the silence, when something slammed into the wall separating his apartment from his neighbor’s. The pictures on the wall rattled and then there was silence again.
Alex looked at Morgan and was about to say something when a moan came from the other side of the wall. An unmistakable moan that was low and quiet, yet so close. Alex knew that only the thin plaster separated them. An infected person stood only fifteen feet from where he sat.
“Alex.” Morgan trembled, and he tried to pull her close. Her rigid body wouldn’t budge. He moved closer to her, but still couldn’t wrap his arm around her. He let the feeling of her body next to his thrill him, for only a moment.
Someone banged on the front door. It shook through the silence, nearly knocking them both out of their seat. Alex almost let out a yelp, but his breath was taken away and nothing came out. Instead, he grabbed the handle of the sword, sliding it out of its sheath only a few inches.
A scream came from down the hall and they could both hear feet run away from Alex’s apartment door in the direction of the screaming. They listened to the ghastly sounds of an old woman being torn apart two apartments away.
Minutes passed before the bang came again, startling them both. This time, the hands slid down the other side of the door, scraping slowly down to the floor.
Again and again, sometimes with minutes in between, the banging shook the door. For hours into the night the noise continued, randomly shocking them and making their bodies jump every time the sound broke the stillness.
Morgan spent hours staring at the door, using every muscle in her body to muffle the sound of her breathing. Alex sat in the darkness with the sword in his hand, staring at the door, waiting for it to open. He soon needed to set the sword on the floor because his body began to shake so uncontrollably that the metal on the handle of the sword rattled.
By the time morning came, the two of them had lost track of when the last bang had been heard. Alex thought it was only a few minutes ago, but Morgan insisted it was at least an hour. This argument they wrote on a piece of paper, still horrified to make any noise at all. They spent the morning and afternoon like this, writing in a notebook back and forth.
Morgan's nerves made her become more hostile as midday approached, but she still could not bring herself to smoke. She could only assume the infected people could still smell. Her notes to Alex became more agitated. Even her letters were written more sharply.
Do you want me to check the hallway?
No!
I’m going to. Maybe they left.
No! Absolutely not!
We can’t be quiet forever. I have to know.
Put your sword away! You are not a ninja!
We have to do something.
You are not going to kill anybody!
What if they come in here?
Let’s put something in front of the door. Your bookshelf!
Alex let out a sigh and he put the sword down. He looked over at his bookshelf and smiled. He had built it himself, and it reached from the floor to the ceiling, almost covering one entire side of his apartment.
The bookshelf was a second wall. If they wanted to keep something out, Morgan was right, that would keep them out.
Alex threw his hands into the air and stood up, walking over to the bookshelf. Morgan smiled a winning smile and stood up to help him push. After thirty minutes of pushing the shelf inch by inch, they finally tipped over the solid wood frame so that it slammed into and rested firmly against the front door. Moans came from the hallway outside when the first noises of movement happened, but when the shelf fell into place, they both felt instantly safer.
“That should keep them out,” Alex finally said, almost scaring himself with his own voice.
“You think it’s safe to talk?” Morgan still whispered.
“We could barely slide that thing, there is no way they’re lifting it off the door.” Alex patted the giant bookshelf, proud of his construction. A moan came from the other side of the door. Alex pulled his hand off as if the shelf was what made the noise. “Let’s move the desk over here just in case.”
When they finished moving the desk, they both collapsed on the couch. They sat on opposite ends with their feet almost touching.
“I’m so tired,” Alex said. When he looked at Morgan, her eyes were already closed. He got up and found her a blanket. He placed the afghan over her gently, slowly pulled her glasses off her face and set them on the coffee table.
He turned on the TV, pushing on the volume button to keep it as quiet as possible. His body told him to sleep, his back aching from staying in one position all night.
But, his mind needed to know.
He needed to know what was happening.
Day 2
1:41 pm
The news anch
or looked as though he hadn’t slept either. Bags under his eyes were barely covered by smeared makeup. His hair looked tussled, as if his fingers had been pulling at it all night. He read aloud from a pile of papers in front of him instead of a teleprompter. Other station workers ran past in the background, holding stacks of papers in their hands, rushing breaking news to the control room. The room was in a state of chaos.
“General Bellstone offered no comment on the military's placement within the United States, or a possible withdrawal from the Middle East. Republican Senator Bill Levitch has issued a statement asking for an emergency meeting of Congress to correlate a strategy with Homeland Security and the Military. He has hopes that both will work together to create a quarantine for America’s borders.” The anchor set down the newspaper, shaking his head. “I fear, from what we have gathered across the nation, that it may be too late to shut down our borders. I want to restate our list of known facts for viewers that… that may just be tuning in.”
The news anchor took a sip of water and he ran his fingers through his hair as he grabbed a piece of orange paper that was set to the side.
“FEMA centers are still being set up outside major metropolitan areas.” The anchor looked off camera. “Can we run that list on the bottom of the screen, Phil? Yes? Okay. We urge people to use caution when traveling to the centers. FEMA has issued a statement saying they are doing their best to screen everyone coming in for infection, but we have already gotten word from Phoenix, Arizona of an outbreak within the center walls. Police there are doing everything they can but citizens near the center have been asked to stay within their homes until the center can be cleared of any threats.”
Alex watched the bottom of the screen and saw Hudson, Wisconsin roll past. It wasn’t far from Minneapolis, but the idea of leaving his apartment sent a chill down his back. He looked to the peacefully sleeping Morgan next to him and he knew he was exactly where he wanted to be.
“We can now confirm that many European cities have also seen an infection, as well as China, Japan, India, Australia, and many cities in South America. The infection is global and appears to be targeting people at random. There has been no connection between those infected and anything they have come in contact with.”
The news anchor read the next line just as a man ran in from the left side of the screen. The man whispered into the anchor's ear as he handed him a piece of paper. The anchor looked at the man and mouthed the words, “Are you sure?” The man nodded, glanced into the camera, and quickly ducked back to the left.
“Um, folks, it looks like we have some new information coming in from the Centers for Disease Control.” The anchor reread the paper in front of him and ran his fingers through his hair again. “The CDC has issued the following statement to the Associated Press, and we just received it over the wire only moments ago. I… I’m having a hard time with this…”
A voice could be heard yelling at the anchor off-camera, but was muffled because of the distance from the microphone. “This can’t be true Phil! It must be a hoax!” The voice yelled back and the anchor let out a deep sigh, holding up his hand in defeat.
“The CDC, after testing hundreds of patients, has concluded that symptoms are only showing up in patients that have already… in patients that are dead. Once the heart has stopped in a patient, they have witnessed a reactivation of brain activity in less than one minute and no more than ten minutes. The brain activity is limited and results in sporadic muscle control, homicidal aggression, and possibly even… cannibalism.”
The anchor took another sip of water. “I’m sorry folks, I just…” He rubbed his fingers on the bridge of his nose, between his eyes and continued. “They cannot explain the rapidness of the outbreak, but have speculated that international flights and rapid transit could have spread the infection before anyone was aware of it. They also claim to have no reports of anything like this happening in the past and are shocked at the sudden uprising of cases. The CDC has not been able to recognize what is causing the brain reactivation, but has not ruled out anything. They urge those who come in contact with the infected to stay away from any blood or saliva and to clean any open wounds thoroughly.”
The anchor picked up the orange sheet again and attached the CDC report to it with a paper clip.
“Continuing our list of facts: I want to re-state that this is information we know for sure. Speculation at this point is dangerous. Extremely dangerous. The White House issued a statement notifying us that the President is in perfect health and has been moved to an undisclosed location. The Vice-president, who was visiting foreign leaders in Mumbai when the outbreak happened, is on his way to the airport and hopes to be back in the United States by tonight. Any and all enlisted soldiers are required to check-in with their superior officers for information. The President has issued an executive order activating all troops, even non-active duty reservists. Military ground personnel have been officially reported in New York, but all other eyewitness accounts are still being confirmed. Cell phone and LAN-based telephone services across the globe have been shut down for military and government use, but most Internet connections are still available. White House officials are urging people to take advantage of e-mail and social networking sites to contact loved ones.”
The man flipped the sheet of the paper over and started reading from the back. “Within the last three hours, the White House issued a statement in reply to many user comments on the Internet about self-defense from the infected. The government is standing by the previous ruling of brain-death as being the determination of death, and has stated that all infected individuals are still considered living beings and therefore deserving of every law and right belonging to them. Anyone committing an act of violence toward these citizens will be held accountable. Any criminal acts perpetrated by the infected will be resolved in a court of law.”
Alex hit the power button on the remote. His eyelids felt like they weighed a few pounds each and the news was telling him nothing he didn’t already know. The government was fumbling to react to the crisis and he didn’t trust them anymore than he had in the past.
Possibly less.
He grabbed his laptop, scanning the few blogs he subscribed to for any new information, but the only new posts were rumors. He sent out a mass email to all of his contacts letting them know that he and Morgan were okay and what their situation was. He asked anyone still healthy enough to reply, to do so as soon as they could.
He set the laptop down on the coffee table and walked into his bedroom. The afternoon light was beginning to fade. His bed looked soft and comfortable, but he couldn’t resist one last look out the window. The streets were fuller than before, people wandering aimlessly, randomly searching for victims. He wondered what stopped them from attacking each other as he fell onto his bed.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. His mind washed back and forth between the infection that had him locking himself in his apartment, and the fact that Morgan was sleeping in the next room.
Alex smiled, allowing himself to fantasize about her for only a moment. He imagined what a date would be like with her. He imagined their conversations late at night, after they had made love. He imagined making love. All these fantasies existed in a world without Christopher and he was suddenly sickened by his thoughts.
“Besides,” he thought, “all that stuff can only exist in a world that still made sense. A world in which it was still safe to walk outside.”
As soon as he fell asleep, his body jerked awake when he heard someone say his name. His vision focused in and he saw Morgan holding her blanket around her shoulders, staring at him from his bedroom doorway.
“Alex?” she said again. “I’m sorry to wake you up.”
“It’s okay. What’s wrong?” He rubbed his eyes, trying to make himself more aware.
“I’m just. I’m scared sleeping out there. Can I sleep in here?”
He tried to hold back his smile. “Yeah, absolutely.” He started to
pull back the covers to let her crawl in next to him, but she laid on the floor and pulled her blanket up around her. He mentally scolded himself for his assumption and handed her a pillow.
“Goodnight, Morgan.” He lay on his side, watching her body raise and fall slowly in the little light that crept through his plastic blinds. Her breathing lulled him to sleep.
Neither of them slept soundly. While they both slept deeply, exhausted from their night before, they couldn’t help waking up periodically with the myriad of noises that erupted around them. Screams, sirens, gunshots, and explosions filled their slumber.
Day 2
6:30 am
While Morgan and Alex tried to sleep, a whole world was fighting for its survival outside. Morgan eventually felt guilty about this and woke up, quietly creeping into the living room to smoke. The smell of her cigarette woke Alex up and he came stumbling out of his room, rubbing his eyes.
“How did you sleep?” he asked, yawning the word “sleep.”
“Like shit,” she said, releasing a lungful of smoke. “You?”
“I managed to sleep for a while, I guess that’s what’s important.” He stumbled over to the living room and dropped his body into the recliner.
“I grabbed one of your shirts. I hope you don’t mind. My shirt was-”
“No, it’s cool. Take whatever you need.”
“I just about screamed this morning when I realized you didn’t have any coffee.” Morgan laughed, only half joking.
“Oh wow, I didn’t even think of that.” He spoke in a rough voice and got up to get something to drink. “How many cigarettes do you have left?”
“Don’t even ask…”
Alex came back into the room holding a can of soda. “You want caffeine?”
After Life Page 4
