by Chris Lane
Maybe it was a bad idea, but I asked Tomas if he knew anything about the researcher.
“Ah, yes. The cure. But the cure to what? Afflictions are cured. Humans, they can’t smell, they can’t see, they can’t hear, can’t feel. Nature is scary for them. We’re Alive, and this is somehow a threat .”
There’s a cure?
It’s hard to get down here what it feels like to be in the forest. It’s like there are three versions of the forest all overlapping — what it smells like, what it looks like, and what it sounds like, and before, I mean when I didn’t have these senses the way I do now, I remember being outside at night and if you were walking around and heard something, you would STOP and then strain to see what it was, or to hear it better. Never mind being able to smell it. But now I might smell something first, and I can see it or hear it clearly while I’m still in motion, at a run.
Thursday, May 1st
FINALLY, another kill. Not much, but with two kills now I get it, it’s just totally nothing like eating something we’ve bought, even if the quantity isn’t the same, there’s it’s almost like an electric charge with a KILL. Chemicals, hormones, something, you can feel it in your blood and taste it in the animal’s blood.
Last night it was three rabbits, which my brother got actually. He brought them and offered them to the group and we totally tore them apart.
Mark was— I’ve never seen him strut, but he was proud that he was the one who landed the rabbits last night. He wasn’t exactly doing anything, I mean he didn’t say anything, but he was just like not slouching into his chair, and kind of smiling to himself. That didn’t go over so well. The boys put up with it for a little while, and then BAM they were all on top of Mark. But then they weren’t — he threw them off and knocked Carl back over a chair. Tomas looked up and growled and they all stopped, but something had changed in their dynamic, and I’m not sure it’s for the better.
Strange energy tonight. We’re going out hunting later.
Saturday, May 3rd
Oh god oh god oh god.
There were hunters. We were sleeping in the den and there were hunters. Tomas was up first and they were focused on him, I don’t know how many there were. We were all wolves.
I remember teeth and claws and silver and blood and tumbling and blood.
I remember two hunters running into the woods and one hunter not running and Mark over him covered in blood and a deep roar from Tomas.
We ran back to the house.
We left the hunter where he was.
When we got to the house the hunters hadn’t found it. Or found it yet. I don’t know. We packed and left. Tomas roared.
YOU DO NOT KILL A HUMAN. HURT THEM. TURN THEM. NEVER KILL THEM! IT BRINGS THE POLICE!
Mark said he was only trying to protect Tomas, but that was worse. Danny and Mark both had cuts from the silver weapons.
I DO NOT NEED PROTECTION. I AM PROTECTING YOU!
Tomas hit Mark and Mark flew and he cowered where he landed, but he was also not cowering at the same time. It may be something only I’m able to see, but something inside Mark has broken loose and it’s scaring me.
My phone buzzed. A text message from Dave: YOU’VE MADE A MISTAKE.
Monday, May 5th
I’m with Sam. The pack is crashed out at a Motorlodge Inn off the interstate and I was able to slip out and call her. She’s been gripping the steering wheel pretty tight. Do you believe me Sam?
“I don’t know what to believe. I know you believe it. And you’re clearly in some sort of trouble.”
She’s worried that, whatever’s going on, Mark is still at the Motorlodge. I’m worried too, but we have to do something, and for better or worse that’s driving to Case Western and either talking to Marian Bradley or, given that it’s after hours, breaking into her lab.
Waiting outside. First waiting for my nerves to settle down, but now we’re waiting for this guy to take one of his every-20-minutes smoke breaks and wander far enough from the door for me to get in. Sam wants to know if I want her to go with me. No.
Thursday, May 8th
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I have to get it down. I have to write it down.
Inside it was easy enough to find her office. Maybe it goes with the territory of studying werewolves but she was actually there late. I can smell her before I get to the lab, and she knows what I am the minute I walk in.
“I — you’re — Hello. I’m Doctor Bradley. You’ve come to see me.”
I say yes, I’m here, I’ve heard about her work, I want to know about the “cure,” and that I’m —
“Yes, you’re only the second lycanthrope I’ve encountered, and the first I’ve conversed with, or been this close to.
Please, would you like to, uh, sit down?”
She says, It’s so amazing that you’re here, that you’re finally here. I’ve been waiting for you. Not you but someone like you. Maybe you. You’re here. I’d seen one like you before, but not so close. Can I touch — and she touches my arm — you see, animals and humans already share so much of our DNA, there are fascinating analogies in human nature and animal behavior, and here you are, a creature that’s literally — when people ask why I’m researching such foolish science, not even science, bad movies, it’s because they don’t understand, they haven’t seen a creature like you, but I have. Why do I do it? It’s because I’ve been waiting for another one, like you, to come.
She looked crazy.
I’ve waited so long and there’s so much to learn and I just, I — will you bite me?
Then Tomas and the pack are here. Tomas says
Your research is a threat to us, Doctor Bradley. Not everyone dismisses you as a lunatic. Calling attention to our existence, to those who are paying attention, this endangers us. Maybe this isn’t your intention, but it’s the truth. We need to protect ourselves. If you wish to join us, we can do this, but we must be careful, and we must take care of the work you’ve already done here.
Then
“I’ll bite you,” Mark says and his voice is fake-sweet. He bears his teeth in a snarl grin and he starts shifting and his bones are moving and Everyone’s turning now and their clothes are splitting and they’re growling and Tomas shouts NO at Mark and all of them but it doesn’t make any difference.
He puts himself between Mark and the doctor and everyone is wolves now and the pack keeps me away and Tomas and Mark start tearing at each other.
Mark took Tomas down and then there were hunters, they were on us.
They shot Mark
It He was tearing through the room and he HOWLED and if he wasn’t so proud — the alpha energy — and after he killed Tomas he was the center of the room and of course they shot him. The sound of the gun and the bullet in his chest I could feel it like it was in my chest like a hammer, it was like a hammer and I fell down and I was so scared. I wanted to take it all back, just everything all over again but you can’t and I was so scared and I didn’t know how I could help him — Mark PLEASE BELIEVE ME I love you, I wanted to I saw you there and I saw it, I saw you turn back into you on the floor and get so small, and I wanted to help but there was so much blood and I couldn’t I just ran
I don’t care what day it is.
I ran. That’s what I do right? I got to Sam’s car and I my clothes were kind of shredded — I didn’t turn all the way, I felt like a scream coming up and I wanted to scream and rip out everyone’s throats but whatever in me froze halfway, I didn’t stop myself because I wasn’t thinking, but I couldn’t or didn’t turn and just ran. When I got to the car I was me but messed up and I got in and we just drove.
Sam of course is freaking cause look at me, and I’m freaking, sobbing, and I just say, bad people came and we have to GO NOW, and she’s got no idea, I don’t say anything about Mark and we just go. We debate, home? Not home? And I tell her to drop me at home but down the block and she does and Mom’s still up. I watch her inside at home through the windows and I stand outside out back in
the trees and in the dark wearing Sam’s jacket and I watch and she sets the coffeemaker for the next day like always and does the dinner dishes and turns off the kitchen light and goes to bed.
I shiver outside for a while and then sneak in and pack some of my stuff and go. It can’t be safe for her if I stay there. I couldn’t call her because she’d pick up the phone no matter what time of night, of course worried sick, and I can’t face talking to her yet so I I TEXTED her that Mark had an accident but that I’m OK and I’m so sorry and I love her and I’ll talk to her soon and I don’t WHAT IS THIS? What am I supposed to do? What could I possibly tell her? Or Sam, or anyone?
I’m not safe with the pack, even if I could find them again. The hunters will want to take me because of my brother.
There’s no point to recording this anymore other than I guess it focuses me? Not that it CALMS ME DOWN. So should I calm down now? Whenever I’m out in public I don’t know who might be wolves or might be hunters — that’s not true, I’d totally know by their smell, of wolf or of fear, but I’m afraid to. I DON’T want to recognize anyone this way. They’ll recognize me.
I can’t do this.
I can do this but by myself. I don’t see what choice I have anyway. It’s safe in the woods. I need to get away from here and live alone and take a deer once a month or whatever they said and just fade into the background, where no one’s going to know what I am, and I can be what I am.
Publisher’s Note
Dr. Marian Bradley, no longer with Case Western Reserve University, denies that the events described herein took place and points to the lack of any documentation at the university of the incident, as well as a lack of police records. A search of Ohio public and private school files reveals numerous students by the name of Alice who have withdrawn or dropped out; one of these, Alice Carr, has a brother named Mark who also attended Fairview High School in Maple Heights. When contacted, the students’ mother said simply that her family’s business is her own.
The journal was discovered by a group of hikers in Cuyahoga Valley National Park, inside a small duffel bag containing articles of clothing and other personal items.
Copyright © 2010 by becker&mayer!
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication data is available.
ISBN 978-0-8118-7707-7
Bundle ISBN 978-1-4521-2124-6
WEREWOLVES was produced by becker&mayer!, Bellevue, Washington.
www.beckermayer.com
WEREWOLVES was illustrated by Allyson Haller and written by Paul Jessup.
Design: Kasey Free and Katie Stahnke
Editing: Steve Mockus
Editorial Coordination: Amy Wideman
Production Coordination: Leah Finger
Chronicle Books LLC
680 Second Street
San Francisco, CA 94107
http://www.chroniclebooks.com
Zombies
A Record of the Year of Infection
Field Notes by Dr. Robert Twombly
Publisher’s Note
What follows is a found manuscript. The author/illustrator of this book, Robert Twombly, was a blood specialist native to Seattle, Washington. Dr. Twombly witnessed the worldwide necrotic infection that, as we now know, began suddenly on or around January 7, 2012. The infection lasted approximately one year, and during that time all known zombies either decayed enough to succumb to their physical limitations or were destroyed by pockets of human survivors.
Dr. Twombly’s journal is a unique record of the time of infection in that it seeks to understand the undead by living among them. It is also the record of the author’s day-to-day experiences at a time when such records were not commonly kept.
The manuscript was found inside an empty cottage in the town of Churchill, at the edge of Hudson Bay in northern Manitoba, Canada. The whereabouts and the fate of the author are unknown. His notations have been reproduced here in their entirety.
January 5, 2012
Saw a flock of Black-billed magpies, 6 or 7 adults in the trees by the lake today. Very strange to see them this far west!
January 12, 2012
For the record, my name is Dr. Robert Twombly, age 32, Specialist in hematology-oncology at the Northwest Blood Treatment Center in Seattle, Washington. The NBTC lab occupies the top floor of a seven-story building adjacent to Lake Union. These are facts, and I record them because everything else right now is impossible to believe, and we need to start with the facts. I have my birding journal here, ink, etc. “Here” is I’ve barricaded myself in one of the lab rooms. Outside there’s some sort of infection. It happened fast. I’m hoping that if I record as much as I can, and others are doing the same, we can I don’t know, cure it? I don’t know what IT is. No one seems to know what’s happening. It feels like the end of the world.
Some of the headlines from the news, before the internet went down
Sudden Illness Fells Thousands
* * *
Global Pandemic Freezes Commerce
Airport, Shipping, Border Lockdown
* * *
Terrorists Lay Claim to Bio Weapon
Experts Deny Capability
* * *
CDC Emergency Summit
Conflicting Theories, Few Answers
* * *
Is It In the Air?
Contamination of Water, Food also Questioned
* * *
Attacks Reported Among Infected
Guard Mobilized to Secure Hospitals
* * *
On January 7, the first signs were the “breaking news reports” that people all over the world were getting sick. According to news reports, major cities have been hit hardest. Military units were mobilized to help, but of course there’s no reason why soldiers would be any more immune to illness than civilians. Breathing filtration systems have not been helping. There is no help. When casualties vastly outweigh medical personnel— when treatments are, so far, ineffective—fear spreads even faster than disease. At first the reports of “attacks” weren’t clearly it wasn’t clear that people weren’t just killing each other in a panic of some sort, and the details were, I mean they had to have been censored or restricted, at least at first when that was still possible.
Estimates of the infection rate kept going higher before the news shut down, and it’s difficult to figure by our remaining staff—though here where we might be able to help, more than anywhere else, people kept coming in rather than bunkering down at home—but it looks like downtown Seattle has a 90% infection rate. If the rest of the world is affected at anywhere near that. . . I don’t know that a 90% infection rate is survivable, in terms of overall population. For the other 10%, is it just a matter of time until symptoms manifest?
I have no idea why I’ve been one of the fortunate ones, or if I’ll remain that way.
Here’s where the infection stood on January 10.
I have to assume it’s worse now.
Hospitals have been at maximum capacity since day one, with patients spilling out into the streets. Same here in Seattle. What caused this? Doctors like myself have been working around the clock to find out. Blood samples from infected patients from Harborview were rushed over here and we’ve been running all known tests, but the results are coming back negative for everything—no identifiable bacteria, virus, or parasite. Yet people are stricken with severe aches and pains all over their bodies—“like knives sticking into every muscle.” And then things got worse.
My lab is down to a skeleton crew as many of my team have been hospitalized, or are in line waiting to be. I feel helpless. At this point we’re doing such research as we can, but I’ve also just been making up tests out of thin air, figuring if I get a result I’ll backtrack to the scientific method later. Like stick an electric wire in a blood culture. Anything? Nothing. The power’s out now, backup generator too. I ran a paperclip from a 9-v
olt battery. What does that prove? Nothing.
Everything’s falling apart.
In the first few days of outbreak, horrific instances of suffering were broadcast on television and the internet, but mostly just short of the last stage of infection. But I’ve witnessed all of the following stages firsthand among fellow colleagues. Physical symptoms at the onset of illness can be categorized as follows:
Onset Physical Symptoms
Eyes: The sclera become enlarged and bloodshot.
Ear canals swell shut, creating a tremendous pounding sensation.
Nose and mouth: Tissues engorge with fluid. Severe constriction of nasal passage and throat.
Chest: Chest area “feels tight, like a squeezed sponge.” Breathing becomes short and rapid. Lungs struggle for oxygen.
Stomach: Severe stomach cramping and constipation reported. Subjects are unable to digest more food, experience vomiting and diarrhea.
Arms, legs, back: Complaints of muscular aches similar to flu symptoms. (No evidence of viral infection.) These symptoms accelerate acutely, causing intense physical pain.
