Our Undead

by Theo Vigo

  Brent: Urg, I don't know… You kicked it?

  Heather: Yea. Dammit. I have to get this washed.

  Brent: Where is it now?

  Heather: It ran somewhere.

  Brent: Aw, man. That's disgusting.

  Heather: Hey relax, guy. Take over. I'll be back.

  Brent: Are you sure you don't need help?

  Heather: Yea, I'm cool.

  The girl walks away from her coworker with a soft limp, out of the kitchen and into the back halls in the staff's quarters. The hall is relatively empty with dinner already in progress, taking up all of the staff's attention. The girl walks past the staff's empty lunchroom, and then passed the staff kitchen. Another one of her coworkers is inside just getting up from the table. She spots the injured girl and stops her.

  Paula: Whoa, what happened?

  Heather: We've got an infestation.

  Paula: Of what??

  Heather: Rodents, girl. Relax.

  Paula: Are you serious? That's disgusting.

  Heather: I'm going to the washroom.

  Paula: Take some gauze and stuff. Here, girl. I'll help you.

  The injured girl continues to the washroom while her friend grabs the portable first aid kit off of their kitchen fridge's top, along with a bunch of paper towels straight off the roll. She rushes behind to catch up.

  The bitten girl bursts through the door of the female washroom first and heads for the sinks. The second girl comes in soon after she turns on the tap water. Heather adjusts the hot and cold water to make a comfortable lukewarm mixture while her friend comes up with the paper towels and kit.

  Paula: Here, wet these and clean it.

  Heather takes the whole bunch of paper towel from her co-worker and shoves it under the warm water. She lifts her right foot on to the counter and starts dabbing her bite wound with the wet paper. It absorbs the blood quickly, and soon she is just holding a ball of bloody wet paper towel. Her helpful friend opens up the first-aid kit, takes out a bunch of gauze and gives them to her friend.

  Paula: Here… So there's a mouse in there? I don't wanna go in there if there's a mouse in there.

  Heather: Don't worry. It's not in there anymore. I kicked it, and it ran out.

  Paula: Out where? Into the dining hall? Ooooo, that's not good.

  Heather: Whatever. If more people see it, more will complain, and it'll get dealt with faster.

  Paula: That thing got you good.

  Heather: Sss… Yea.

  She wipes the cut off with some of the gauze, and the blood finally starts to clear up. They can both clearly see the space where the mouse had taken out a decent piece of skin.

  Paula: Put some antiseptic cream on it.

  She hands her a tube of cream from the kit, and the icing mixer opens it up. She squeezes some of the healing jelly out on to her finger and rubs it into her laceration. When she finishes applying the balm, she brings her foot down from off the counter.

  Heather: That should be good enough. I'll just put a Band-Aid over it.

  Paula: Okay. Here's one.

  Her assistant hands her one of the large square Band-Aids found in the first-aid kit, opening it for her first.

  Heather: Thanks.

  She gets down on her left knee, places the Band-Aid on the outside of her right ankle where she has been bitten and gets back up.

  Heather: All right. I'm good. I'll guess I'll go back out there now.

  Paula: Are you sure? I was just about to go back when you came in. If you want, you can take a break. We'll be fine. You got bitten. I think people will understand.

  Heather: Maybe you're right. I don't wanna go back out there anyway. I'll just sit in the kitchen for a… for…

  Her sentence fades away into a breathy whisper, and Heather the icing mixer's eyes roll up into the back of her head. Her friend can do nothing but watch her fall to the ground.

  Paula: Heather!! Oh, my God.

  Paula runs out of the girl's washroom to find someone that can help her help her passed out friend.

  SECRETS REVELLED

  Feleider: These children are not allowed to be in here!

  Margaret: Abe!

  Margaret swings past General Feleider on her crutches. He, as well as the rest of the room's occupants, follow Margaret as she pushes her way through the line that has been formed in front of Abe's suspended body. She stops in front of him, having to look up at his figure.

  Margaret: What the hell are they doing to you?!

  Gwen: He's fine. We've just been running a few tests, some of them observational. We can get the best view of him this way, and.. for our safety.

  Margaret: Well, I'm here. Can you let him down now?

  Gwen: Uh, yes, Yes, okay.

  Not wanting to upset Margaret, Gwen agrees to let Abe down for the time being. She walks to the controls to fulfill the girl's wishes. Feleider walks back into the room, letting his curiosity get the better of him.

  Feleider: Who is this girl? Girl, how do you know the name of this man?

  Margaret: My name is Margaret. He's mine. My friend. I found him.

  Feleider: Found him? He's not a lost puppy.

  Gwen: Actually, if a lost puppy can be caught and trained, then he isn't much different from that.

  Feleider: Trained? This infected man was trained? By who? Surely, not this girl.

  Margaret: Yes, I did. Gwen, would you please let him down?

  Feleider: How?!

  Margaret: You know, I'm getting really tired of answering that question. Gwen, please?

  Enthralled by the conversation, Gwen neglects to lower the bed so she can release Abe. Frustrated by this girl's insolence, Feleider storms up to Margaret in a very intimidating fashion, much like Sharp had done to him earlier.

  Feleider: I command this base, and if I ask you a question, you'd damn well better answer it.

  His face is right in Margaret's now, and she tries to back up, not out of fear, but only because she doesn't like the man's hot face so close to her own. She trips over her feet as she does this, a little unused to going in reverse with her new crutches. Feleider keeps the pressure on and follows her, but suddenly gets yanked away from the fumbling girl.

  She breathes a sigh of relief when the man gets pulled out of her face and is thankful that Sharp did that when he did. The super soldier holds Feleider by the back of his collar, and the General stands there with his arms slung in the air like a child being held back from a fight.

  Sharp: That's all the information you'll get out of her before you tell us what you know.

  Feleider: Put me down, you disrespectful brute! I swear to God, I'll have you locked up for the rest of your natural born life!

  Sharp lets go of Feleider's collar, and the man drops his arms, fixing his rumpled up collar at the same time.

  Feleider: I told you already. I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I don't know about a parasite. I'm not a doctor. It is your job to know about those sort of things, not mine.

  Gwen: You know more than you're letting on! You and Doctor Alyster!

  That name strikes a cord in Billy's mine. He had just heard it earlier.

  Billy: Doctor Alyster… Hey! Earlier you said that Doctor Alyster would have a formula ready before nightfall. Margaret and I heard you talking with someone in the halls earlier today. E-T-E-12.

  Gwen: What's E-T-E-12?

  Billy: I don't know, but he does.

  Billy points a finger at the General.

  Feleider: Heh heh. Fine. You unrelenting irritants. It's not like it matters anyhow. It's too late for you to do anything about it.

  Gwen: About what, Feleider?

  Sharp: Spit it out!

  Just then, the alert on Feleider's communicator goes off. He takes it from his side and receives the call.

  Feleider: He's what?!…. Why would he do that?… They did?… I see… And what about the… I see… Bring it to me quickly!

  He shuts off the receiver, puts it back to his side and tr
ies to gather his thoughts. He was just hit with some hefty news.

  Feleider: Heh, the crazy old man has had it.

  Gwen: General, talk to us!

  Feleider: Doctor Alyster. Yes… Doctor Alyster is a dead man and soon, you all will be too.

  Everyone surrounding General Feleider remains silent and confused. They watch and wait for him to continue, wondering what the hell he is talking about now. As he gives them the news of their fate, he walks about the room, passing each person by and gifting them each their own personal boastful sneer.

  Feleider: This outbreak, as most of you would call it, was a failed test. On this evening, there will be redemption. In moments, I will be in possession of a formula; a perfected version of a microscopic cybernetically modified parasite named E-TE12, or Eternity. When I get this formula I will have it distributed worldwide.. to.. hospitals, doctors' offices… schools.

  The pitch of his voice is that of a dirty old man, and he truly is one under his pristine uniform. At least , that's how Gwen sees it. Listening to him makes the professor sick to her stomach. Even though she is now hearing it for herself, it is still hard for her to believe that the evil befalling the entire western USA is actually being caused by some deeper, undisclosed organization; some secret society.

  Erika and Billy walk further into the room to join the rest and settle beside Kerrick in the human circle that contains Feleider and Margaret in its center. Kerrick still looks focused but relaxed, unlike Erika's other partner who looks like an attack dog trying his best to be patient. If Feleider says one wrong word or makes one wrong move, Sharp may be liable to pounce. Erika just hopes her teammate can have more restraint in this moment than he is known for.

  Billy looks at Margaret, who is also focused on Feleider and his monologue of victory. Strange, he thinks she would be much less interested in what the General has to say. Maybe she's finally developing some respect for the details. He looks up at Abe, hanging on that metal slab behind Margaret like a zombie Jesus. His undead friend is looking over and past Margaret's head. He too, is paying attention to the General. His dead eyes follow Feleider's taunting stride as it comes to an end at a twelve o'clock position, directly opposing Abe's six o'clock position in the circle.

  Feleider: When this happens, the world will be reconditioned into a planet of super human slaves. Even young children and the fairest of women will become deadly killers and workers for the new way. I would tell you all to rejoice for the opportunity, for you all would be taking part in The Conditioning, becoming first-class versions of yourselves. If only, you were not all about to be destroyed.

  Kerrick: Some of us already are first-class. It sounds like what you're doing is cheating.

  Feleider: The ends justify the means. Soon you're little status as a "special" man won't be so special. Everyone will share in the same attributes that you and your team possess. The only difference is that they will be completely under our control.

  Kerrick: You have a hard enough time keeping tabs on my team, how could you possibly think that you can control an entire planet of people, especially if they're like us?

  Rohan: The parasite he speaks of is microscopic, but somehow they have been infused with cybernetic potentials. Who knows what kind of computer system they have connected to this thing? They might be able to take any infected individual down at will.

  Feleider: Shut them down, reanimate them. All at the flick of a switch and the pushing of a few buttons. We will be able to do whatever we want. If anyone objects to our wishes, let them die by the hands of their enslaved brothers on our command.

  Gwen: You keep referring to an "us". Who else is in on this plan?

  Feleider: That, you needn't concern yourself with. Just know that in a matter of minutes, the world will be changed and will never be the same again.

  Sharp: Why in a matter of minutes? Why not, right now?

  Feleider: The formula, you idiot. I guess you're not as sharp as they say. A special guest is bringing it to me as we speak.

  Gwen: A special guest?

  As soon as the words leave her lips, everyone's eyes are drawn to the laboratory entrance. The sound of its doors separating startles them all out of their conversation.

  Feleider: Ah, and here he is now.

  <><><>

  In the staff women's washroom of the cafeteria in Block-D, Brent and Paula have sat their fainted coworker, Heather, up against one of the washroom's walls. Brent gently taps the side of Heather's face, trying to wake her up.

  Brent: The hell happened?

  Paula: I swear, she was fine. We had cleaned off her bite, and she was going to rest for a while in the kitchen… then she just fainted. We didn't even make it out of the washroom.

  Brent: Damn. She's so pale. Help me bring her outside so someone can take her to the Medical Centre.

  Paula: You want to lift her?!

  Brent: Yea, just-

  Brent gets up, but before he gets a chance to instruct Paula on where to lift their coworker, a breath escapes Heather's lips. Brent falls right back down to her side.

  Brent: Heather?! Are you okay?

  The girl still hasn't come to entirely. Her eyes continue rolling to all corners of the room and back into their sockets. Her mouth opens and shuts as well, as if she is trying to say something but can't get enough oxygen behind the words.

  Paula: Oh my, God. What the hell is happening to her?!

  A small light at the end of the tunnel appears as Heather seems to become able to get some words out. They are incomplete and staggered, but she sounds like she is trying to say something that starts with an "M".

  Paula: Oh, Heather. What are you trying to say?

  The hopeful light is instantly extinguished when instead of any coherent "M" words, a jet stream of dark colored vomit spews from Heather's lips. Some of the bile ends up on Brent and Paula, but Heather splashes most of it on herself. She continues to vomit, regurgitating two more large portions of puke all over herself. Brent and Paula are ready for these two releases and back away to avoid getting any of the disgusting fluid on them. Neither Brent nor Paula has ever smelt throw up as putrid as this. One last faithful gush from their sick coworker sends both Brent and Paula back and up to their feet.

  Paula: This isn't good.

  Brent: No, it isn't. I've seen this before… on the surface.

  It has only been a little over two weeks since they've been underground, and Paula has become very comfortable with her living conditions. Her whole family had made it down, and she has been safe here. She doesn't need to worry about what is happening above them, and she doesn't bother to. She is more than happy to live underground, if it means that her and her family get to live out the rest of their lives in peace. She was actually quite happy, until Brent's words remind her of the nightmare she was once living. Could the same disease have followed them down into this place they called a safe zone, through thousands of metres of soil, rock and gravel?

  Paula: But that's… impossible.

  Brent: Nothing is impossible… Not anymore.

  Heather's breathing is so shallow, and she barely looks alive anymore. Her head hangs limp, her eyes half open and her mouth half open. Leftover vomit and saliva hang from her mouth in multiple strings, their ends sticking to the front of her flour-covered apron. Brent stoops down beside Heather's feet and hesitantly reaches for her injured ankle. The square Band-Aid Heather has placed on the bite is already completely bled through, and the area around the bite has become blackened with dark purple and blue veins sprouting out from the cover of the Band-Aid. Brent takes the Band-Aid at its corner and peels it off. It comes easily because of the blood. Underneath, the bite itself is pustulating and is even blacker than the rest of Heather's ankle.

  Brent: Ugh,.. the mouse. It had to be that mouse.

  Paula: We have to tell someone.

  Brent: Uh… Maybe you should stay here with her. I'll go get someone.

  Paula: What?! But what if she actually does turn into one
of those things?!

  Brent: Don't worry. The change doesn't happen that fast. It takes like a day or two, but just in case, you should grab something to protect yourself with.

  Paula: There's nothing here.

  Almost out the door, Brent grabs a mop that is resting against the wall near the bathroom exit.

  Brent: Here, use this.

  He tosses her the mop and runs out of the girl's washroom. She catches it and looks at the useless weapon. It wouldn't be much help if Heather actually did turn into a zombie, and from the looks of her, the odds of that happening seem to be rising. Paula sucks it up and waits. If there is any possibility of saving her friend and coworker, she needs to be in there. But she will stay near the washroom door, just in case.

  Brent walks through the back halls of the cafeteria, trying to be fast but not look panicked while looking for anyone in a higher position than him, anyone that he can pass this unwanted responsibility off to. He isn't a doctor, but then again, neither is anyone else on the Block-D cafeteria staff. Even if he is by some chance able to find a doctor in this, the least popular cafeteria, Heather's fate is bleak at best. The halls are still empty because of the dinnertime rush, but luck strikes when one of Brent's coworkers, his manager, comes walking briskly down the hall toward him.