Our Undead

by Theo Vigo

  Palmer: Erikson, what the fuck are you doing, man?!

  When he calls out to the newly created zombie, he regrettably gets his attention. The zombie Erikson lifts his head away from the doctor's neck and looks to Palmer, who holds his arms up and tries to talk down his friend.

  Palmer: Erikson… man… We can get you help. We can get help for both of us.

  But instead of listening, Erikson charges at Palmer, diving head first into him. They fall on to and knock over the bed Palmer had been lying on, and Erikson makes a meal out of his old friend who has yet to become like him. Palmer's screams go unheard in that dark secret corner of the compound.

  FAUSTA THE PEOPLE

  The sliding doors of Laboratory D-9 swish open, and General Feleider comes rushing inside. He sees the rest of the medical team, consisting of Gwen, Bernard, Keung and Rohan, and one half of The Mav-Elite, all standing around the middle of the room. Near to where they are standing is an elevated bed, or metal slab of some kind, standing vertically. It takes a moment for Feleider to walk around far enough to see its front side, but when he does, it perplexes him to find an infected man, strapped down to the table by his wrists, ankles and neck. He stands there suspended vertically, watching everyone buzz and murmur to one another. No one had noticed Feleider entering, and he manages to walk all the way up to the group gathered around the infected man who hangs in display. They still may not have noticed him were he to hold his tongue.

  Feleider: What is going on here?

  Gwen: Why don't you tell us?

  Feleider: Don't take that insolent tone with me, you- What is this? Who is this man?

  Gwen is unable to control her bottled up emotions, but Feleider chooses to disregard it for the time being and figure out who this unfamiliar infected man is. He stares Abe in the face, and the captured zombie looks calmly back. The General knows it is unusual for a victim of E-TE12 to be acting as withdrawn as this man. Actually, he seems more inquisitive. He seems to be paying attention to everything going on in the room, and now looking into the beast's eyes, he feels like the slung up corpse is trying to read his mind. He pushes his way through the group to stand directly in front of Abe's erect table, never breaking eye contact with the zombie.

  Feleider: Where did this man come from? He's not one of ours. He's not wearing a uniform. Where did he come from?

  Sharp: We'd love to answer that for you… Uh, actually we wouldn't, but before we tell you anything, why don't you tell us more about this parasite?

  Feleider: I still don't know what you're talking about.

  Feleider continues to wonderingly study Abe's eyes and face, authentically curious but also seeking to brush Sharp's subject matter aside. It is to no avail as the General hears heavy footsteps approaching his rear. He turns around to see Denver Sharp, moving in on him.

  Sharp: I'm so sick of your crap. You know damn well you sent us on that fool's errand to keep us out of your hair. I don't like wasting my time, General. Why are we here?! And don't you dare tell me anything about assisting in protecting this place. The men here have everything well under control.

  Sharp is right up in the General's face by the time he finishes his sentence. Each man can feel the warm breath of the other, but both stand firmly eye-to-eye.

  Feleider: Let's get something straight here, boy. I tell you what to do and what errands to fulfill, but it isn't my fault you just so happen to be a goddamn fool! I'm your commanding officer, and you listen to what I goddamn have to say! You understand me? Now, get your face out of mine before I bite it off.

  Sharp: You pathetic excuse for a General. You have no control over me.

  Kerrick: Uh, I don't want you harsh your flow here, D, but he does have power over us. He can have us put away for a long time.

  Feleider: You had better listen to your teammate. He looks dumb, but he makes a very intelligent point.

  Kerrick: Did he just say I look dumb? Forget what I said, D. Kick his ass.

  Sharp: Oh, I was going to anyway. He can do whatever he wants. Report me to whoever you like. No prison can hold me, and I'll come find you, snake.

  Kerrick: Especially when I'm gonna be right there helping bust him out. No more long talking, D, just beat up that old man!!

  Bernard: If everyone would just calm down for a minute, we might be able to figure all this out. Now, maybe it's true that none of us, not even General Feleider, are sure what is going on here. This parasite could be news to him as well.

  Doctor Bernard's smooth English accent seems to cool down the confrontational atmosphere, although, Sharp stays on top of Feleider who remains unflinching, just the same. He may be older, and Sharp may be stronger, but the General has been through his fair share of fisticuffs. He has a few tricks held up his sleeve that Sharp would never dream of. Although he knows it wouldn't be the smartest thing to take it to that point, the General would give the super soldier a good scrap if that were where he decided to take it.

  Sharp: He knows exactly what we're talking about.

  Feleider: I don't, but if you would get out of my face, and if someone would explain to me what is happening, maybe I could help you all out.

  Gwen: We went through this with you earlier. The cause of this infection is a parasite, not a blood based virus. Does Doctor Alyster know anything about this?

  Feleider: Doctor Alyster has already found a cure. He is testing it out on a couple of subjects as we speak. You and your people are behind.

  Gwen: Even if that were the truth, you keep us away from his lab like you have something to hide. You're obviously lying to us,… or telling us only half of the truth.

  Feleider: Heh, we'll see if I'm lying soon enough… but tell me, where did this infected man come from?

  Feleider finally backs away from Sharp and turns around to face the undead man that is hanging awake, but placid, above him.

  Feleider: Why isn't he trying to kill me like the others would be? What did you give him?

  Gwen: His name is Abe. He came in last night with the survivors. He isn't like the rest of them. We found out that these parasites evolve to varying degrees. The ones inside of Abe are less active than the others, not dominating the natural human nervous system as much, and so, he isn't as vicious.

  Feleider: Is that right?

  The General has trouble taking his eyes off of the relaxed creature. This, in front of his eyes, is actual proof of the possibilities held by The Conditioning. He may not be the perfect specimen, but his calm temperament is reasonably comparable to the mindless slave warriors The Conditioning would and should have produced. He can't stand the exhilaration of it all. A smile breaks upon his face, and then a chuckle.

  Sharp: What the hell is so funny?

  The General spins around. The cocky smirk on his face makes Sharp sick. The General says nothing and grabs the communicator at his side. He clicks a button and speaks.

  Feleider: Is it ready?

  Deeper inside the compound, Holden wanders through one of the many large, brightly illuminated hallways. As he walks, an alert sounds from his left hip. He takes the communicator from it and retrieves the transmission.

  Holden: I'm not in the lab at the moment, but I'm on my way there. I'll report back when I get there and see how things are progressing… Okay… Then I'll see you when you get here.

  Their correspondence ends, and Holden continues walking to Doctor Alyster's lab. Inside of Laboratory D-9, everybody stands surrounding the General, Sharp and a trapped Abe. All except the General and Abe wear expressions of uncertainty, and they all search Feleider's demeanor for any sort of tell about what might be going on.

  Feleider: Well… I'll be leaving you all to your business.

  Feleider makes his way to the exit, his stride unbroken even as Gwen calls after him.

  Gwen: Wait! Where are you going? That was Alyster, wasn't it?!

  Feleider: Don't you worry your bullish little head over it, professor. Continue finding the cure. Millions of people are counting on you, and
you're soooo close. Perhaps, we'll need a backup if Alyster's test fails to be a success. So long.

  Gwen: Don't give me that! Stop him!

  Feleider: You lay one hand on me, Mr. Sharp, and I will have you put away for a long time.

  Feleider's intuition serves him well. Sharp had already been walking aggressively toward him; however, he makes the more intelligent decision and stops his pursuit, letting the General proceed to the exit. He almost makes it out, but the lab doors slide open, and Erika Blaze walks in with Billy and Margaret on each side of her.

  Feleider: What are these children doing here?

  Erika: Looking for their friend. What's it to ya?

  <><><>

  Holden arrives at the entrance of Doctor Alyster's lab and enters the code on the control panel. The doors buzz open, and he walks inside. Everything in here is brighter than usual with the lights turned on. Holden notices clearly for first the time the cramped bookshelves and scattered papers all over the floor, and all of the unused tables. Half of the place looks as though it has been abandoned, like evidence of the cluttered and forgetful half of the good doctor's personality. Holden is, however, unbothered by the mess. Something else has caught his attention, that being, how quiet the lab is. Even when it was just he and the old man, he could hear Doctor Alyster messing about or coughing in the back end of the lab as he walked through it. The only thing he can hear now is something that sounds like a person walking around on a slushy day. Undisturbed, Holden walks further into the lab, in through the center column of bookshelves that leads to the back area where Alyster does his work. It doesn't take too long for him to see the mess that had been made during his absence.

  Passed his disorderly desk and high table, where Fausta the mouse had lived, the examining area of Alyster's lab has come under some serious distress. First, Holden notices the blood. The one bed that is still standing up straight, has blood trickled all over the top of it. The other one has been knocked over, with the wheels facing Holden and the mattress, away. While approaching, Holden picks up and looks at a pair of forceps. He puts it back down on the tray of tools carelessly, but the unbalanced plate of steel topples over and makes an unwelcome clanging noise when it hits the laboratory floor. It's more annoying to Holden than anything, but to his fortune, the noise reveals to him that he is truly not alone in this lab.

  When the tin tray and tools fall to the floor, the squishing sound he has been following suddenly stops. This allows Holden to discern that it was coming from behind the fallen hospital bed. He stands in wait, staring at the bed and ready for whatever is behind it to reveal itself. Seconds later, he thinks he sees something trying to peer over the top of it, then realizes that it is actually the top of someone’s head.

  Holden: Hey! What the hell happened here!? Where is Doctor Alyster?!

  The shy individual does not answer Holden's questions but continues to watch him discreetly from behind the fallen hospital bed. Both the hidden person's eyes are revealed now. Holden knows these eyes. He's seen them before, most of them recently. The eyes of the undead.

  He proceeds forward to investigate, and his first step triggers the transformed soldier's body to spring over the mattress and zombie trot straight for him. Holden stops and waits for it to come to him. He patiently watches it gradually getting closer and closer, wearing his normal stone cold expression, the complete opposite of the bloodied, craving one that is only a few more steps away from the waiting giant.

  When it comes within reach, Holden steps forward and grabs it by the neck with his left paw. He lifts it into the air like nothing and holds it there for a moment. The infected soldier spits, chokes and sputters, waving it's limbs all about while still trying to get a bite out of Holden; but to no avail. Holden's size keeps him out of reach, and his grip keeps the zombie locked in an undeviating dangle.

  Having seen enough, Holden reaches for his handgun with his free hand. He tightens his grip around the infected soldier's neck, and then thrusts him forward. The zombified body flies several feet away and crashes to the floor, sliding into the legs of the hospital bed it had hopped over. It gets to its feet quickly and heads right back for Holden. This time, instead of waiting, Holden puts a bullet right in-between the zombie's eyes. It's head whips back, and its body becomes still before it drops to the floor.

  That's one thing taken care of. All is silent again, but there is still no sign of Doctor Alyster. Holden decides to move further inside. He walks past the corpse he just put down and comes to the bed that it had been hiding behind. He looks at what is on the other side and discovers that he had interrupted the infected man in the middle of a meal. This half devoured man looks like a soldier as well. He doesn't have much of the bottom of his face or meat on his chest left, and he isn't wearing a shirt either, but both his shaved head and the pants are a dead give away.

  Still no sign of the doctor, Holden turns around and heads for the exit. He stops one more time before leaving the examination area and remembers that he needs to report to the General. He reaches for his communicator and is about to make contact, when he hears a something whispering. He can't make out what it is, but he knows that whatever the thing may be is close. He walks back over to where the fallen soldiers lay, but stops half way and looks to his left. There, sitting on the floor with his back resting against the legs of the bed that is standing is Doctor Alyster. He doesn't look good at all. It's obvious to Holden that the old man is done for, but he goes to him anyway. After all, as long as he is alive, Holden is still the doctor's assistant.

  The hissing sound is the labored breathing of the old man. He weakly looks up at Holden when he comes to a stand in front of him.

  Dr. Alyster: I… fainted. I shought zhat I vas already dead.

  Holden: Is there anything else I can do for you?

  Dr. Alyster: Heh,.. (coughs)… suj great loyalty from suj a dark man…. Blind loyalty… they were right about you… You… Bring me the system controller.

  Holden knows where this is. He shuffles some papers around on the dying man's desk, and soon sees the rectangular screen like apparatus among the confusion. He picks it up and brings it to the doctor. Alyster takes it and taps it on with his bloody index finger. When the bright screen comes on, he continues pressing images and leaving red finger prints all over the face of the controller until he gets to the screen he is looking for and looks back up at Holden.

  Dr. Alyster: Give Feleidah zhe formula, und get as far away from zhis compound as you can. You have until I die. Vhen zhat happens zhe compound vill… self-destruct.

  Holden: But why?!

  Dr. Alyster: (coughs) Miene… little friend.

  Holden knows exactly who the doctor is talking about. The doctor was a fool for allowing the mouse to escape, but he realizes the hell that may very well be already released upon everyone who lives in these facilities. Rather than risk any of the infected getting to the surface, the best thing to do would be to destroy everything, wiping out both the clean and infected without prejudice.

  Dr. Alyster: Go! Leave now! Vit haste. Zhere is no time for pride. I vill try to stay conscious for as long as possible.

  Holden takes one last look at the dying old man, and then leaves him in his laboratory to die in the way he sees fit. Holden expects the man won't survive the next ten minutes, so when he exits the lab, he starts into a jog.

  <><><>

  At that moment, inside of Cafeteria D, a little brown ball of fur makes its way into the chef's kitchen. It runs about the sides along the edges of the walls, inconspicuous and unnoticed by the cafeteria staff. Its slender, dark tail follows it along as it slips behind two stacks of bagged flour. It squeezes its way through the two stacks and pokes its little head out to survey the kitchen floor. One lonely chef is in the back by herself, mixing a bowl of lime green icing for the dessert cakes that follow dinner. She wears a black apron over a white t-shirt, low cut sneakers and tight black pants that go down to just above her ankles. The exposed flesh peaks the litt
le rodent's interest, and it darts out from between the bags of flour, straight for it.

  Heather: Ouch!

  She feels a sharp stinging on her right ankle and hops up. She looks down and sees the dark fur ball nibbling on something.

  Heather: Aaahhh!!! Mouse!!!

  Her reflexes cause her to kick it, and she sends the infected Fausta sliding across the floor into a wall. The little mouse shakes off the head trauma and makes a lightning quick escape out the door, into the cafeteria dining hall. One of the girl's coworkers, a young man about her age named Brent, rushes in to see what all the screaming is about.

  Brent: Hey, is everything all right in here?

  Heather: A frigging mouse! It bit me, right on my ankle!

  Brent: A mouse? Is that even possible? I guess… We are underground. Lemme see.

  The young girl shows her ankle to her coworker. A small chunk of skin about the size of a mouse's mouth-full is missing from the side of the girl's foot. The guy grimaces at the sight of it.

  Brent: Jesus… A mouse did that?!

  Heather: Yea! It was big and black and gross! I kicked it. How the hell did it get in here!?