Our Undead

by Theo Vigo

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  A man, unfamiliar to the compound's blueprint, would find that the outside of Professor Gavine's barracks looks identical to the outside of any other part of the place. All white everything; white walls, white doors, all white everything. The only difference is that instead of a handle, her door is fitted with a knob, lock and key. What also sets it apart is how far from everything it is. From the Care Centre, it had taken the three of them about fifteen minutes to get there, and about ten minutes into the journey, they hadn't seen one soul walking about or even a cart driving by. It is quite secluded, but it gives Margaret a sense of security, not for her own sake but more for Abe's.

  When they get to the door, Gwen stops the cart and everyone gets off. Gwen's keys jingle as she pulls them out of her lab coat pocket with Billy and Margaret following close behind in their fresh new clothes. Both of them are wearing plain white t-shirts and generic grey gym shorts with slip-on walkabouts that are just as plain as the rest of their attire. Billy holds both his knapsack and Margaret's, as the girl's hands are occupied with crutches.

  Gwen: Welcome to your temporary home.

  Margaret: Again, I really appreciate this, professor.

  Gwen: It's no trouble at all. I won't be using it tonight and there's no point in letting it go to waste.

  When Gwen turns the key, the door swings slightly inward, revealing its pitch-black interior. She removes the key from its hole completely and pushes the door the rest of the way in. She walks in ahead of Billy and Margaret and flicks on the light switch located on the wall right next to the door. Before they enter, the two new arrivals peak into the room from the outside. Although, Billy had been with Gwen when she dropped Abe off, he didn't really get a chance to look around.

  The room isn't very luxurious. Actually, it's quite dull. Although it is brightly lit, its walls are the same boring white as the rest of the compound. There is an office desk sitting on the wall opposite the door, with a chair pushed into it. It's a desk that's on the cheaper side; one of those with an uninspired laminate top, skinny aluminum legs and a two compartment box drawer set on the right, tucked underneath the desk's top. On top of it sits a few stacks of neatly piled papers, a teacup of pens and a metallic desk lamp.

  To the right of the desk, about six feet away, on the adjacent wall is a half open closet. From the door, the pair can see that there are hardly any clothes inside of it. A few shirts have been hung up and a pair of slacks, but that looks to be about it. Looking a little further to the right, they can see why. On the floor next to the closet are a few suitcases, all of them open and all of them still full of clothes, for the most part. Most of the clothes are scattered about the floor, with no sign of any method to the madness, but then they spot something that seems to be more naturally fitting for a doctor's lodgings; a fully extended yoga mat and exercise ball in a matching light pink hues.

  Gwen: Aren't you going to come in?

  The professor's voice calls out to the sub-consciences of the pair, and they walk in without responding. First enters Margaret on her enhanced crutches, followed by Billy, both still taking in the room and its peculiar drabness. Billy sets Margaret's knapsack on the floor where they stand.

  Gwen: Sorry about the mess. I never really had time to unpack. I tried, but I've been living out of my suitcases since I've been here.

  Margaret: I see you do yoga.

  Gwen: Yes. I try to get a little downward dog in here and there, but I haven't really had time to exercise either.

  Now fully inside the room, everything to the left that had been covered by the door can now be seen. To the left of the desk is a simple looking bed, fully made with white sheets and two clean white pillows sitting at its head. Beside the bed is a side table with a lamp and paperback. The title of it is unclear. Margaret is taking in everything the room has to offer and it all seems normal enough, but then something strikes her as odd.

  Margaret: Hey… Where's Abe?

  She looks to Gwen for an answer and follows the point of the professor's thumb, which is already up and pointing toward the corner that Margaret hasn't seen yet, the one behind the door. In this corner, she sees what must be Abe standing there, but he still has the sheet covering his head. All she can see of him are his tattered dress pants and wrecked bare feet from the knees down. To her, he looks like a child who has just gotten in trouble by his parents for cutting holes in their good sheets so that he could play ghost. He had gotten caught and now, he was made to stand facing the corner. The thought sends Margaret into a small fit of laughter.

  Gwen: Billy and I figured that if anyone were to actually come in here, that would be the safest corner… and… I just added the sheet for extra security.

  Billy: …a bit of camouflage.

  Margaret: (calming down) Well, I guess every little bit helps. (sighs) Cute.

  Gwen: Well, you're here. Time to get some rest, then?

  Margaret: Yes. I will. Thanks again, professor.

  Gwen: No problem. You, have a goodnight.

  The professor starts for the door and Billy follows behind her.

  Billy: I'll see you tomorrow. Rest well.

  Margaret: Whoa. Where do you think you're going?

  Both Gwen and Billy stop in their tracks to Margaret's question.

  Billy: I'm going to sleep in the civilians’ quarters. It's no VIP like this, but you know I'm not picky.

  Margaret: No. You're gonna stay here with me.

  Gwen's eyebrows lift a touch to Margaret's request, more like a command.

  Billy: But there's only one bed… and it's a twin.

  Margaret: So?! Remember that night in you're portable tent?

  Billy: You hated that.

  Margaret: Yes, yes, but this won't be half as bad as that. Now, drop your stuff. You're staying.

  Billy: Uhhh…

  Margaret: Come on. It'd make me feel more comfortable about this whole thing.

  Obviously, Billy has spent nights alone with Margaret before, as she had just stated. Although it was top to bottom rather than side by side, they had slept together in his tent that crammed night. He hadn't felt strange about it then. This time, however, something is different. An awkward emotion makes itself known to him for the first time, in his thoughts of sleeping, not only in the same room but also in the same bed as Margaret. He thinks to himself that it must be that conversation that is making him feel this way, the one they had had right before they almost got ambushed on the bridge on the freeway. Billy thinks back to Margaret getting to her feet, and the way her skin, even though filthy, was ever so milky, moist and glistening beneath sun's light. It was the first time he had ever looked at Margaret in a sexual way. Yes, things had definitely changed since then. He looks up at Gwen Gavine to see what her reaction is to the whole idea.

  Gwen: I don't think she's gonna take no for an answer… but no hanky-panky.

  Margaret: I think that would be a little awkward in front of Abe, don't you?

  Margaret laughs at the professor's halfhearted little warning, and Billy remembers that Margaret would never be interested in him in that way, anyhow. She had, after all, stated that fact back on the bridge. She laughed at the idea then as well. He isn't of the right age bracket… but what is two years, really? No! If he stays, he will stay for her comfort and nothing more. To be honest, he'd much rather stay with her and Abe than go sleep with a bunch of unfamiliars, anyway.

  Billy: Okay, I'll stay with you guys.

  Gwen: Good, good. Then I'll be on my way. The door will be locked from the outside. Sleep well.

  Margaret and Billy bid Professor Gwen farewell, hearing a great big yawn leave her lips as she closes the door behind her. They wait until they finish hearing the sound of tingling keys before they begin talking again. The soft buzz of the cart slowly fades away into the distance, and when everything has gone silent for three seconds, Margaret pops into action.

  Margaret: Drop all that stuff! You're staying the night buddy!

  Bill
y does so as Margaret hops on her forearm crutches to the corner that Abe is standing in. She pulls the sheet off of him and tosses it on the ground next to them.

  Margaret: Okay, Abe, you can come out of time-out now.

  She hobbles backward a few steps and pokes Abe in his back with her right crutch three times. On the third poke, Abe starts turning around, teetering and tottering from one foot to the next like a man of tin who needs more oil in his knee joints. When he's fully turned, Margaret sees his face and smiles. He could well possibly be smiling back at her, but it's impossible to tell, for it might just be a facial spasm. Regardless, she is happy to see that he's still in "good" health.

  Margaret: Hello, sir! How are you? What did they do to you?… Billy? What did you guys do to him?

  She turns herself around so that she can see Billy's face while he answers. He looks shocked at her sweeping accusation.

  Billy: "You guys"?! I didn't really do anything. I just helped the professor. Actually, it was pretty interesting. She took a sample of his spinal fluid, but didn't even bother to take any of his blood like she told you she would.

  Margaret: She lied. Can no one be trusted?! Ugh… Why is that interesting?

  Billy: Cause usually these things are started by a viral infection of the blood.

  Margaret: So the virus is in people's spinal fluid?

  Billy: Exactly, but… it's a parasite.

  Margaret: Eeeee, yuck. What the hell? Like, those little squiggly, worm looking things?!

  Billy: I don't know what they look like exactly, but that description probably isn't too far off.

  Margaret: Ugh, the thought of it makes me feel itchy all over… but did she find anything out? A cure?

  Billy: She said they only found out about the parasite hours before we arrived. Before that they thought the virus was blood related too. They couldn't be near to finding a cure yet, but they'll be working on it all night. All we can do is hope for the best. I wish I could explain it all to you better, but details are something that all the movies and books sorta… left out. I wish I could be in there with them.

  Margaret: I'm glad you can't explain it. Sounds boring… as long as they're getting closer too finding a cure.

  Billy: Oh, but it gets better. Remember the Feleider General from the helicopter ride? Professor Gwen also has suspicions about him. She thinks that he's played some part in delaying a cure. I met him. He's got evil conspirator written all over.

  Margaret: Sounds juicy. Tell me about it, but first, grab that chair for Abe. I don't want him to stand all night.

  Billy places his and Margaret's bags down beside it and grabs the chair sat under the cheap desk.

  Billy: Where do you want it?

  Margaret: This same corner is fine. Keep him behind the door, I guess.

  Billy coaxes Abe out of the way and places the chair in the corner in which they had left him to stand. He then proceeds to manually sit Abe down in the seat while continuing to tell Margaret about what he had found out.

  Billy: So yea, this General guy storms in-

  Margaret: Hold on a minute. Let him stand. I want to try something.

  Billy leaves Abe standing and backs away, unsure about what Margaret is about to attempt. Abe remains in the corner, staring at Margaret with a detached sense of regard.

  Margaret: Hey, Abe, why don't you have a little sit down?

  She makes her suggestion, looking Abe in his deadpan face while gesturing at the cheap metal framed chair with it's knockoff leather seating. Abe's eyes blink cluelessly a few times. A musty film has built up on the surface of them, and it slowly follows his eyelids as they open and close. It appears that he doesn't understand what she is saying, but when he looks at her hand and follows its trajectory, what little reasoning ability he has kicks in, and he sits down on the chair; sloppily but successfully.

  Billy: That's impressive.

  Margaret: He's intelligent. I told you. What's the different between him and a three year old?

  Billy: The decomposing? The man-eating? He's actually much older than three?

  Margaret: That's not his fault, and you know what I mean, smart-ass. So, what's the deal with this General? How is he delaying the doctors from finding a cure?

  She turns away from her two men and crutches her way to the bedside table, where she sits down next to it on the bed's edge. Billy continues the story while Margaret loosens the forearm loops of her crutches.

  Billy: This man… I'm sure he's guilty. It's so easy to see. He stormed into the lab where Abe and I were with the professor and starts shooting off all these questions; who the new survivors were, what we were up to, why Abe was covered in a sheet.

  Margaret: He saw Abe?

  Billy: Yea, but… he didn't know it was Abe. Gwen made up this thing about Abe being a model, embarrassed because of an injury on his face. She said she sent him off to the dorms before the General arrived.

  Margaret: PAH! Abe was an embarrassed model?! She's good. That's good stuff.

  She sets her crutches down on the floor beside the bed, flicks on the bedside lamp and slides the single slipper she wears off of her uninjured foot.

  Margaret: Hey, turn the light off before you come to bed, would you?

  "Before you come to bed." Those words sounded awkward coming from Margaret's mouth, and in this current situation. It throws Billy off, and then even more when he watches her pull the sheets down and start sliding on to the mattress. One of her legs is mostly covered in white plaster, but the other is almost completely uncovered, displaying all skin below the cut of her shorts. The sight of her left leg, smooth and bare, running across the clean sheets, brings back those flush feelings Billy felt on the bridge. It suddenly becomes harder to talk, to breathe, and his throat begins to close in on itself.

  Billy: Uh, yea. Okay.

  He goes to the door where the light switch is located and turns it off. When he turns around again, Margaret lays there in the dim light, undercover up to her arm pits on the inside of the bed next to the wall. She slams her left hand down on the bed twice, indicating for Billy to come over. He responds with a widening of his eyes, an opening of his mouth and an almost non-existent head nod, then makes his way over to the bed as casually as possible. He sits on the edge where she had just been and looks down at the ugly slip-on shoes he had been given to wear.

  Margaret: So what happened next? With the General?

  Billy: Uh, nothing really. He stormed out the same way he stormed in. It was just so weird, how eager he was to find out who we were. It was like he was nervous. Clearly, though. He was definitely hiding something. I'd be willing to bet that this parasite is some sort of attempt at population control.

  Billy turns away from his feet, twisting around to look at Margaret laying behind him.

  Billy: I mean, what else could it be, right? Why else would anyone make something like this?

  He's caught off guard by Margaret's level of cuteness, gone through the roof. He doesn't know what it is. It could be that she looks completely drowsy. She yawns as she responds to him.

  Margaret: Maybe it's like, some kind of biological weapon… for war or something.

  Billy: But what war? There's no war going on right now… and the parasite has already been deployed, as you can see. (gestures to Abe) War is probably going to be a result of it, but someone trying to control the population will probably be the cause. Look at how life is on the surface. They already tried and failed. There must be something wrong with the parasite, and they must be trying to fix it! And that's why General Feleider is delaying the doctors.

  Margaret: Sounds like something out of a science fiction novel.

  Billy: Exactly!

  Margaret: Ha ha, jeez…. Uh, are you gonna just sit there all night?

  She throws him off again, and he realizes that he is still sitting on the edge of the bed for no particular reason. Perhaps, it is subconscious… or ignored?

  Billy: Uh, yea. Sorry. I'm gonna lie down. I was just… talk
ing.

  Margaret: You must be so much more tired than I am. You had to carry me on your back. Plus, you don't have any parasites. I'm pretty sure you can talk and lie down at the same time.

  Billy: Uh heh,… yea.

  He starts slipping off his gifted shoes, slowly as not to give away his anxiousness. In an effort to cover it up even more, and to ignore the bubbling emotions, he continues on with his train of thought while lifting his legs up on to the bed and under the covers.

  Billy: It makes me think though… The General can't be in on this by himself. He must have a boss, and he must have other doctors working on perfecting the parasite while Gwen and her associates struggle to find a cure. Wouldn't it be wild if… uh…

  The sudden coolness on his leg surprises and throws him off once again. He realizes shortly after that his leg is now making full contact with Margaret's, her casted one being on the other side, away from him, closer to the wall.