by Brett Abell
“Didn’t you train him?”
“Isn’t it negligent on your part to let someone like that near something this deadly?”
Doctor Chin frowned. Why were they attacking him? He’d done nothing wrong.
Okay, as far as they knew, he’d done nothing wrong.
He put his hands up, expecting them to quiet down, but now he was getting shouted questions that were so fast and furious he couldn’t hear any of them, just random words spewed in his direction.
Doctor Chin glanced at the chief, who didn’t look too happy.
“That will be all for now,” Doctor Chin said and walked away.
Several reporters tried to get closer to Chin but he went all the way to the police station and tried to go inside. The doors were locked. He put his head down and stared into the corner.
“Doctor, we need to get you out of here,” one of the police officers said.
“I have a ride coming for me.”
“No one is allowed in or out now. The Army is arriving and they’ve already sealed off Middletown. You need to come with me.”
“Where?” Doctor Chin asked.
“To the bunker. Everyone is going to be safe there,” the officer said.
Doctor Chin knew no one was going to be safe, especially him. He was immune to the virus and wouldn’t turn into a zombie, but he could still be bitten by one.
And ripped apart by a horde of them, too.
Seven
“Dude,” was all Vinnie could say when he ran outside onto the sidewalk in front of the apartment building and saw the chaos.
A guy he knew only as Half Naked Guy (his neighbor who they never saw with a shirt on) was being ripped apart by two other neighbors: Dog Walking Lingerie MILF and Cross-eyed Mary. Vinnie had no idea if her name was actually Mary, but she looked like a Mary.
Vinnie hoped if he was killed and eaten by zombies, it would be a couple of chicks doing it and not some sweaty fat guy like their neighbor across the hall: Sweaty Fat Guy.
He began to run down the street but it only lasted about twenty feet. A steady diet of Coke and Dorito’s meant Vinnie was winded already. He decided a steady brisk walking pace would suffice. The zombies didn’t seem to be too fast, anyway. He didn’t need to outrun them; he only needed to out-walk the zombies.
Or other people on the street.
When he got to the next corner, he looked both ways. A man ran past him, huffing and puffing, and waved for Vinnie to follow.
“Why?” Vinnie asked.
“Head to the bunker and safety. They made the announcement on the radio.”
Who listened to the radio anymore? Vinnie watched the guy run away. He had no doubt he couldn’t run another step.
To the left was the bunker and perhaps safety. To the right was Vinnie’s favorite pizza restaurant. If he’d been thinking straight, he would’ve knocked out all three of his roommates and taken whatever cash they had and bought two slices and a drink.
Vinnie checked his pockets but already knew he was broke.
Another person ran past him, this time a cute chick he’d seen around campus. She had a nice jiggle when she moved and Vinnie decided to follow her to the bunker.
Besides the cutie, coming up behind her was a mass of sickly people, blood dripping from their mouths and covering their clothing. And Vinnie knew they’d beat him to the pizza place, even as slow as they were walking.
“Dude, I’m hungry,” he said to himself but turned and started to follow the chick, who was already out of sight.
Maybe if he survived this he’d lose a few pounds. Get into shape. Make something out of his life. Stranger things had happened.
Vinnie got a block away and stepped over a mangled woman on the sidewalk. He stopped and looked back. The zombie horde was still following but he’d somehow managed to add about ten feet of distance from them.
He bent down and grabbed the woman’s pocketbook. It wasn’t like she’d need it, right? He started walking again, going through the contents of her bag. He found twelve dollars and some change and smiled. He’d hit pay-dirt.
Maybe if I circle the block, they’ll get confused and I can go back to the pizza place, Vinnie thought. It was worth a shot.
He came to the next corner and stopped short. In both directions were groups of zombies, and they’d all converge in this spot in a few minutes and enclose him unless he ran. Right now.
Vinnie decided it wasn’t worth it. He wanted to throw in the towel. Give up. What did he have to live for, anyway?
He looked down the street towards the bunker. So close and yet so far away.
Jeanine and another hot chick came into view, running towards the bunker.
God had intervened.
Vinnie started running, amazed at his own speed and skill, putting one foot in front of the other. It was the farthest he’d run since he was a small child, but it was so worth it.
He had a new lease on life, and a mission to survive.
Vinnie was going to bang Jeanine and her hot friend and make his bucket list dream of a threesome with two hot girls a reality.
Eight
Vinnie wanted to punch the dude at the door to the bunker, who had his hands out and kept yelling they were filled to capacity already.
“There’s so much room,” Vinnie said, looking over the guy’s shoulder. “Let me in.”
“I can’t. You see the sign on the wall? Two-hundred seventy-five people is the limit.”
“You gotta be kidding me. You think the fire chief is going to ticket you? Shit, dude, I can see him inside from here,” Vinnie said.
When the guy turned to look, Vinnie pushed past and ran into the crowd, getting to the far wall before looking back. The dude was standing at the door being a dick to other people trying to survive.
And then he saw Jeanine, holding hands with a really hot chick. Jeanine was hot, so it was two hot chicks holding hands.
Vinnie pushed through the crowd and tapped Jeanine on her shoulder.
“Yes?” she asked, trying to play cool in front of the other hot chick. Vinnie didn’t see any recognition in her eyes but she was probably just messing with him.
“Hey, Jeanine. This is crazy, right?”
Jeanine looked at the other girl and then back to Vinnie. “Do I know you?”
“Yeah, of course. That’s funny. I’m Vinnie.”
“I don’t think I know you,” Jeanine said.
“Sure you do. I’m Charlie’s roommate. You used to flirt with me all the time when you two were dating,” Vinnie said.
She was still acting like she had no idea who he was. Playing it cool in front of her hot friend. Vinnie needed to figure out a way to get both women scared enough for a threesome.
“Where is Charlie?” she asked, looking past Vinnie.
“He’s dead. He was bitten by a zombie and then he bit Sammy. Then Charlie and Sammy bit Jack. I tried to fight off all three,” Vinnie said. “How about the three of us go find a cozy corner and get to know each other?”
The other hot chick leaned forward and sneered. “I’m a lesbian.”
“Awesome. Technically so am I,” Vinnie said. “I like girls who like girls.”
* * * * *
Doctor Chin piped up when he heard Charlie’s name mentioned and smiled when he heard he was dead. Now there would be no way for Charlie to give a contradicting story. Everything was falling into place, except his escape.
Had they forgotten about him? More than likely, they were having a tough time locating Chin. And with the fast response of military and local police, perhaps they couldn’t get inside the city limits.
Doctor Chin pulled out his cell phone and was surprised to see two bars. It should be enough to send his contact a text message.
Chin: I’m ready. Get me out of here.
Contact69: were r u?
Chin: bunker
Contact69: stay there
Doctor Chin smiled. It would all be over soon enough. He’d get pulled out of this
chaos and on his way to a safe location, and he’d get the rest of his money. He leaned against the wall and logged into his bank account.
He had a zero balance.
Impossible, Chin thought. I saw it. The money was in my account a few hours ago. I even changed the password. What was more heartbreaking was the fact the four hundred and eight dollars of his own money in the account was also gone. Not only had his quarter million payout been stolen, but so had the last of his paycheck. Bastards.
Chin wanted to believe it was a coincidence. Maybe the bank online system had crashed because of what was going on outside, but his gut feeling told him he’d been duped. Used as a pawn in a deadly game.
What if the two pills he’d been mailed were nothing more than aspirin? What if they weren’t the antidote to keep him alive? What if this plague was airborne, or mutated and became more than spread via a bite?
There were too many “What If” questions right now, and Doctor Chin felt like puking. He’d been duped. Set up. Used.
“Doctor Chin? Is that you?”
Chin looked up to see a familiar face but he couldn’t place the name. He knew him from somewhere, probably on campus. Maybe the cafeteria. Certainly, the young man wasn’t one of his students. He didn’t look smart enough.
“I’m a little busy right now,” Doctor Chin said. He closed his eyes and slumped down to the floor. He was never getting out of Middletown and neither was anyone cramped inside this bunker.
“It doesn’t look like you’re busy,” the man said.
Doctor Chin opened his eyes just as the man slid down the wall and joined him. Great, another idiot who doesn’t get a not-so-subtle hint. Doctor Chin tapped the side of his head. “I’m really busy up here, where it counts. You should try it sometime.”
“I can’t. I’m too busy taking over the world, Doctor Chin.” The man smiled and leaned closer to Chin. “And playing fools like a fiddle. Like yourself.”
Chin was confused. “Where do I know you from?”
The man laughed. “I’m Jim from the mailroom. Duh. I set this all in motion. Well, me and an army of guys under the radar. The people you least expect to create the ultimate zombie apocalypse. All over the country, at every university we could get into, we’re doing this. And the sad part? Guys like you. Egotistical jerks with a thirst for power and money. All thinking you could rise above. The only thing you did was help spread the virus for us.”
Doctor Chin went to stand when he felt something pierce his thigh. He looked down to see a needle pumping a greenish fluid into his leg.
“This is actually the latest strain of the plague. More potent than what you started with. Isn’t technology awesome? In a matter of hours, we’ve updated and refined the virus. Twenty four hours of this and already the town is a mess,” Jim from the mailroom said.
“Wait … I …” Doctor Chin felt nauseous. His stomach was roiling and his hands began to shake. This wasn’t really happening.
“Thanks for doing your part,” Jim from the mailroom said and stood up. “I’m a little annoyed you set Charlie Noble up for this, though. He was one of the good guys. I’ll miss him most from Middletown. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and rescue Charlie’s ex-girlfriend and her lesbian lover because in about thirty seconds you’re going to start biting people.”
About Armand Rosamilia
Armand Rosamilia is a New Jersey boy currently living in sunny Florida, where he writes when he’s not sleeping. He’s written over 100 stories that are currently available, including a few different series:
“Dying Days” extreme zombie series
“Keyport Cthulhu” horror series
“Flagler Beach Fiction Series” contemporary fiction
“Metal Queens” non-fiction music series
He also loves to talk in third person … because he’s really that cool. He’s a proud Active member of HWA as well. You can find him at http://armandrosamilia.com for not only his latest releases but interviews and guest posts with other authors he likes! E-mail him to talk about zombies, baseball and Metal: [email protected]
Last Stop: Middletown
Eric A. Shelman
It was autumn in Middletown, Indiana. The weather was brisk but decent, and there was some preparation to do before the next class. Charlie Noble didn’t care for the particular work that needed doing, so for the moment, he was content to sit at Professor West’s desk, browsing Facebook on his phone.
When the small university was in full session, the population of the town swelled from 2,200 to around 3,100. Charlie was already looking forward to epic Halloween parties, and after just a month into the school year, he was already anxious to let his hair down. Some kids lived in town, and others rented apartments, but lots of students lived in makeshift dorm housing provided by the school that more closely resembled FEMA trailers.
With his parents’ home in town, Charlie could have just driven to the campus every day, but no way was he going to miss out on the only dorm experience he was likely to ever have. The inheritance his grandmother had left him would guarantee that, even if his folks insisted it was a waste of money. They’d forgotten what it was like to be his age.
He told himself this would be his best year ever. A guy could hope, at least.
Charlie wasn’t in high demand with the girls in town. He’d had serious bouts with acne in his late teens, and at age twenty-one, his face showed the pockmarks. He covered them with makeup and thought he looked pretty good from about five feet away. There had been several times in classes where he’d spied a new girl who initially returned his interested glances with smiles from across the classroom, only to brush him off later when they encountered him up close.
Yeah. From that distance, he was pretty much what the assholes called him: crater face.
The sad part was, he knew if not for the skin problems, he might have been popular. He had steel blue eyes and sandy, blond hair. He was 6’2” tall and muscular and toned from his daily 3-mile runs.
Charlie had grown up in Middletown, and before the university opened, the words he normally used to describe it were comatose, boring, and dead. So, when billionaire oilman Tank Everson announced his intention to fully fund the expansion of the old community college into a state-of-the-art medical and technical training center, and offer hundreds of scholarships, Charlie dove in headfirst and filled out his applications.
Everything he did was designed to help him eventually escape the incorporated morgue that was Middletown, Indiana. Maybe this teacher’s assistant gig would gain him some perks.
A knock came on the door of the classroom and Charlie sighed and grunted as he swung his feet to the floor and stood. He looked at his watch. The next class wouldn’t begin for another half hour. He walked to the door and opened it.
A uniformed young man holding a package nodded at him and said, “FedEx. Got a delivery my boss told me to bring here.”
“Well,” said Charlie. “Is it addressed here?”
The FedEx driver lifted the box and showed Charlie the label. “The address is pretty smudged, but you can see Middletown and biology. She figured it was time-sensitive and your lab would be the only logical place around here for it to go. Want to keep it or reject it?”
“Yeah, I’ll take it. If you ask Professor West, everything’s time-sensitive,” said Charlie, signing the electronic clipboard. “Thanks.”
The driver wiped his hands on his pants and said, “Careful. It’s wet on the bottom. You got a paper towel or something?”
Charlie held it up, saw the wet stain on the bottom of the box, and said, “Jesus, you’re right. Okay. Hold on a sec.”
Holding the oozing box in one hand, Charlie walked to a paper towel dispenser and tore off three sheets, carrying them back to the door. “Here you go, man.”
The driver took the paper towels and wiped his hands. “Thanks,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Stuff’s kinda pungent.”
“Probably some kind of cleaning sol
vent,” said Charlie. “There’s a trash can right by the exit to get rid of that.”
“Gotcha,” said the deliveryman as he turned and walked away. “Have a good one,” he called back.
“Same to you, man.” Charlie watched him walk down the hall. A delivery driver. Not the worst job, but definitely too much labor. The driver tossed the paper towel toward the trashcan and trotted down the stairs. His towel missed the can and landed on the floor.
Charlie considered going to pick it up, but another student came up the steps a second later, saw the trash, and plucked it from the floor. He dropped it in the FedEx man’s intended receptacle and wiped his hands on his pants.
“All is right with the world,” said Charlie, closing the door. He carried the box back to the desk. It had a biohazard symbol emblazoned on the outside, but practically every shipment they received in the biology department did. Before putting it down, he went to a rack, pulled out a stainless steel tray, and carried it back over to the desk.
The moving figure of Professor West, behind the thick glass of the airtight laboratory, caught his eye.
As Charlie watched, the biology professor inserted several test tubes filled with something or other into a centrifuge and closed the lid. He pushed the button, and while Charlie could not hear it, he knew the machine was now spinning the tubes at high speed.
The professor then worked his way to a far microscope and peered into it.
Charlie eyed the package. He leaned forward and scooped it up, then glanced again at the professor. He’d just open it and see if whatever was inside could be salvaged, and he’d transfer any remaining liquid into another empty jar. Then he would just put the new, sealed container next to the box on the professor’s desk. Better than sitting around like a douche.
Bored. Looking for shit to do. He would’ve liked to have been in the lab working alongside West, but that wasn’t in the cards yet. Everyone told him it took a while for West to trust anyone, especially teacher’s assistants.
