Zombies are possessed shells that stalk living human beings,
only seeing them as an animal to tear apart to satisfy their need for flesh and
blood. They are mindless abominations who lurk in the darkest shadows of your
nightmares, waiting silently for their time to come. They are creatures without
a conscience, only made to kill and feast on the innocent. Though some humanity
survives in them, it only cowers in a dark corner pushed in by the taste of
flesh. This is the story of a man who fought against the contamination that was
happening inside him. Though he was inevitably being backed into a corner, he
would stay standing longer than the others.
I felt new life, or death, flood my body. My fingers numbed and
my legs felt heavy. My body felt like a prodigiousness weight, titanic to push.
All strength left my body and my vision darkened. I could see my wife run over
to me and plead for me to get up. She was only a shadow with vibrant orange
hair to my vision. But in my mind I saw her rosy cheeks, plump and healthy. Her
thin soft lips, that I had pressed my own against many times. And her deep blue
eyes, I could lose myself in those eyes, dreaming of the world before the
zombies took over. I collapsed on the floor, panting; only harsh dry breaths
with no life came out of my lips. I tried to feel the smooth floor of the
hospital, but it felt more like a padded cell, in which I would die. I heard my
wife whisper in my ear, her soft calming voice that had a sense of alert around
her. Why? I'm just a dying man, why be so alert? I push those thoughts out of
my head. It's the disease taking control. It was starving my mind of humanity,
I could see the soft marks in my wife’s neck that would be perfect to bite into
and get into the meat. I screamed but only a gurgle came out of my mouth. The
dull pain aching through my head subsided and all I could hear was a high
pitched scream. Thinking it to be from my wife, I summoned all my strength and
cried out of the effort. My legs felt they were no longer part of my body, though
when I looked down, there they were, just paler and thinner. I struggled onto
my feet and my eyes wandered until they met a young child, young fresh meat,
perfect. No, the young child was my son, not a pork chop. I took a step forward
to hug him, but he stepped back from me and shouted something in a weird
language. I looked to my right to see my wife, I smiled to see she was fine.
Though it felt I was snarling more. She pointed a stick like thing at me, no, a
rifle. She was pointing my own rifle at me. I was about to take it from her
when I noticed slumped shadows stumbling toward us over her shoulder. I yelled
at her to run when I recognized the bodies walking toward us. Zombies. And
quite a lot by my guess. Though my sight had less depth as usual. My wife
turned around and saw the zombies. I heard her gasp and stagger at the sight of
so many. I noticed that these zombies were faster, stronger, more human
looking. These zombies were fresh; I recognized some as my friends. I had been
able to round up a group of survivors and we had survived for months. It was
only when I decided to head to my lab in the Austin Central Hospital. Only then
did we get into trouble. Austin was heavily populated by zombies, and I had
been fought against on the idea of going. It was too dangerous, but if we
succeeded it would be revolutionary. It would be the torch that would penetrate
the darkness. We headed in and my wife and son and I, were the only ones who
survived. I stared dumbly at the advancing horde, the sounds of their moans
echoing around the clean hallway, vibrating in my head making my eyes water
from the sound. The hallways were unusually clean for a post-apocalyptic area.
No gore marks, scratch marks, the only dead bodies were the ones walking toward
us now, and they weren't truly dead. I called for my wife to follow me, and I
turned and headed toward my lab. I could vaguely remember where it was; door
No. 337 if I could remember. I could hear my wife and child's feet pounding the
floor behind me, what I would give to turn around and hug them, and maybe take
a nibble out of their heart, while it steal pumped blood across the clean
floor. Where were these thoughts coming from? I hit myself, intentionally hard,
but it felt more like a slow clinch. I was weaker than I felt I realized,
though I was still able to run as fast as my family. My legs were still dead
and heavy, but it felt like they had their own motor, their own will, pulling
along this unresponding body that it carried night and day. I turned a corner and
made my way up the stairs. I climbed the first step then stopped; I turned
around remembering about my wife and child. I looked around the corner and they
were following, I beckoned them to hurry up, they turned to face the horde
behind them, their dirty claws reaching out, calling for its meal. They sped up
and were a safe distance from the zombies; I turned back to the stairwell and
made my way up. I reached the third floor, the 300’s; my lab was on this
floor. I cried with joy and ran down the hallway, another unusually clean
hallway. I found my door and put my head to the glass, peering in, I sighed
with relief, the storage cabinet was still intact, I took the key from my
pocket and went to unlock the door. I heard the mechanism click into place, and
I entered my passcode, remembering only the images of the numbers in my head,
not what they represented. I leaned against the door as it unlocked and swung
open. I stumbled inside, all my equipment as gone, probably taken by my
colleague. I couldn’t remember his face, or his name, but I could remember how
much I despised him. I glanced at the far wall where my lab coat hung; I saw my
name embroidered onto the pocket. Sam Hutton. The name sounded strange to me
now, as if I had used to belong to it but now was as distant as a dream of a
world without zombies. On remembering my name I tried to remember my wife and
son’s name. I felt less human inside me, less emotion. And I turned to face the
storage cabinet. My wife and son burst through the door and ran toward the
storage cabinet. I only knew they were my family by the ring around her finger,
and how closely she held to the child. I threw the storage key to them but it
fell short at their feet. My wife picked it up and looked at me confused. I
smiled and she smiled back. She took the key and opened the cabinet; she then
took out a syringe with the DRACO medicine in. The DRACO was mine and my colleague’s
idea; we wanted to create a miracle medicine. Of course we knew that it was
impossible to make a medicine that could cure all diseases. So we just tried to
make a medicine that could cure enough diseases to be counted as a miracle. Our
medicine would revive a “dead cell” or a cell contaminated by the disease by
supplying it with ATP, giving it the energy to reproduce and continue
production. DRACO would specifically target white blood cells, enhancing their
reproduction rates and efficiency. Hence taking the disease out of the body. We
were going to launch DRACO after it being confirmed working for common diseases
and some more serious ones but then the dead started walking. My wife held the syringe in her hand and
looked at me. I cocked my head at her and peered round her shoulder. This was
the only syringe. Curse my colleague, he must be lying face down in a ditch
with the DRACO medicine spilling all around him. Our original plan was to
capture a zombie and test it with the DRACO medicine. Then with the remaining
supplies we would produce more and use them on the zombies in small towns, then
distribute when the economy grew again. Now that there was only one, we could
only use it on a zombie and hoped that it worked; I had long forgotten how to
make it, so making more without studying it first would be impossible. And
making more when we don’t know whether it worked would be pointless. I let my
head drop and started studying the floor, such a little thing to grab my
attention in this hopeless void. I felt a sharp sting in my arm and a burning
sensation. I looked up to see my wife sticking the DRACO syringe into my arm. I
lashed out and screamed at her causing her to jump back in fright. Why would
she do that, at least use it on a zombie to see if it worked! I walked over to
the wall and banged my head on it, and I felt blood rush into my body, I felt
more human, I felt the pain of several cuts and bruises on my body. My legs no
longer felt like a dead weight and I could feel the cool air blowing in from
the window on my fingertips. I could remember my wife’s and son’s name.
Danielle and James Hutton. My family. I smiled at the sight of my healthy
looking hands. I turned around to my family and my life was filled with joy.
They ran up to me and hugged me, but I was so confused, why did I feel so
different? I asked Danielle what had happened, and she told me on how I had become
a zombie, but she could still see some humanity left in me so she didn’t shoot
me. I was dumbfounded at this, I had stayed in control. I had been able to
continue to steer the vessel and fight back thoughts off cannibalism. I heard a bang on the door and we all turned
around, up against the glass were several zombie faces squashed, their teeth
cracked and bloody. I didn’t want to know how many were behind them. I turned
back round to Danielle, and was surprised to see her crying. I stepped toward her
to reassure her, but she just stepped back and whispered, “Hun, I’m sorry.” I
looked at her confused just as the first zombie broke the glass and reached its
bony ragged arm toward me. I turned back to James this time, he was
surprisingly strong for a teenager, and I mean emotionally, not physically. He
had become so solemn since the apocalypse. I went to take his hand but he just
dove into Danielle’s arm more. I stepped back and questioned them on their
behavior. At once they pulled up their sleeves revealing bite marks, fresh and
bleeding. I cried as the zombies broke down the door and flooded the room,
avoiding Danielle and James, heading for me instead. I wiped my tears and stood
proud as a claw ripped my flesh apart like a grape. I lost all sight of Danielle
and James as the zombies surrounded me. Another zombie grabbed my arm and
attempted to pull it off, breaking my shoulder, making a sound like a Batter
making a home run. James’s favorite sport was baseball. A zombie ran it’s
forefinger down my middle cutting me open, how strange it was that the doctor
was being “worked” on. They made their way feasting on my meat, I hoped they
enjoyed it. A zombie pulled my lungs out and spread them in front of me, so I
was to die an angel. Danielle stepped through the crowd, different now. Fanged
teeth and hunger had embedded itself in her soul, fresh meat clung from her
teeth and I feared the worst. She reached in, took out my heart, and just as
she took her first bite my vision went dark. Darker than ever before.