Our Undead (35 page)

Outside, it is a black and
starry night. Billy hears Margaret calling out to him. He sees her
standing with Abe about twenty-five yards ahead but can't tell what
she is saying. As he gets closer, he can make out that she seems to
be yelling something about a gas tank. He looks back while running
and sees that the store's car garage extends to the outside. Lined
up near the area are cages stocked with tanks of propane. His eyes
widen, and he starts running much faster.

The zombies begin to pour
out of the back exit, still led by the longhaired female, as two
explosions go off one after the other; the propane tanks Billy
rolled down the aisles. Margaret flinches, not expecting them.
Billy yells at her to keep going and she begins to hop skip and
jump into a little jog, encouraging Abe to keep moving as well. His
coordination isn't the greatest, but he tries the best he can to
keep up with her, doing a pretty good job and looking livelier than
usual. But it still isn't enough and Margaret has to hold him by
the wrist to make sure he doesn't get left behind. It doesn't take
Billy very long to catch up with the both of them.

Billy:
Margaret, come on! That place is going to go up any
second!

Margaret:
I'm not leaving Abe behind!

The explosions inside the
store cause the fire to spread much quicker, and the flames they
spread are almost at the point of making contact with the propane
tanks outside. More and more zombies pour out of the door, first
normal ones and then ghouls on fire, all walking, and some evening
jogging awkwardly toward the trio. These ones are an even greater
danger, for they may blindly and prematurely ignite the extra
tanks. Billy takes Margaret by her wrist and tries to pull her away
from Abe.

Billy:
Come on!!!!

Margaret:
No, I can't!!

Billy:
He'll be fine! Let go of him and run!!

Margaret:
No!

Billy:
Come! ON!

With one good thrust,
Billy tugs on Margaret's wrist causing her to release Abe's. He
falls to the ground, allowing Billy to pull Margaret along with
him. She looks back at her friend, getting to his feet but decides
to trust Billy and keep running. Abe is able to get up relatively
quickly and follows after them as the fire gets closer and closer
to the propane tanks outside, and then…
*BOOM*…
**
KA-BOOM!!!**
The whole building
erupts into a mass inferno.

The power from the blast
stops both Billy and Margaret from running, and they hug each
other, keeping their heads down as to not get hit by any flying
debris. It is Margaret who takes the chance to look up and see if
Abe is all right. She witnesses as the shock wave of the blast
sends him flying through the air like a rag doll. He winds up
landing about ten feet away from them, like a horrible, rolling
cluster of limbs.

Margaret:
ABE!!

She tries to release Billy
so she can run over and see if Abe is all right, but Billy holds
her back, pulling her back down into a huddle.

Billy:
WAIT!

He is right to hold her
back. Large pieces of flaming building and scrap metal rain from
the sky, crashing all around. Fortunately, none are precise enough
in connecting with their possible humans targets. When things seem
to be settled enough, Margaret tries to break away from Billy
again. This time he lets her go. He gets to his feet and stares at
the building ablaze, examining the scene. The fire rages on and a
few zombies are still walking, but all are on fire. He sees no sign
of the female zombie that struck him as odd and feels content that
his plan has played out successfully.

Margaret kneels over Abe
when she gets to him and rolls him over onto his back.

Margaret:
Ugh. Abe! Wake up!

And with no regard for
suspense, he does. His body has taken a lot more damage. Scraps and
cuts have been added generously to his arms and face, but his eyes
open up, and Margaret smiles into his grey pupils, tremendously
relieved.

Margaret:
God.. What the hell was I worried about? You're a freaking
zombie…

She helps him to his feet
and dusts him off. Billy joins them.

Billy:
I
told you he'd be all right.

Margaret:
I worry, okay?

Billy:
Yea, it's okay… but we have to get moving.

Margaret:
Right. Come on, Abe.

They head off and away from
the massive fire, taking the long way around to get back to the
highway. Tonight will be a long journey, one without much sleep, if
they manage to get any at all. It is a good thing Margaret isn't as
tired tonight.

Zombies continue to spill
out from the fire, but none pursue the fleeing group of three. The
intense heat and lasting flames do their job well, burning the
zombies down to the bone. The many that have escaped the building,
run around aimlessly, but eventually give in to the fire and
collapse. Plenty have already fallen, crawling around the parking
lot, some still lit, some letting off a grey mist.

One
in particular stands out, the female that had led them. One of the
smokers, she crawls as far away from the department store fire as
she can, then flips over on to her back. Her already scrappy
clothes have been badly burned and so has every inch of her body,
but she remains vital. For the first time her face is revealed. It
has gone through much damage and decay, and it is impossible to
tell her identity, skin color, or ethnicity. All that is left of it
is a melted down, seared visage, with the blackened skin pulled
tightly to the skull. She groans as she lies on the concrete,
sizzling, and then let's out one of her cries. It echoes into the
starry night, an extra boost of motivation that keeps the three
friends moving without repose.

LAB RATS

Back in the underground
facilities of Sector 333-3, in one of the many stretches of
attractively bright white tunnel, super soldier Erika Blaze and
Gwen Gavine are being dropped off at a laboratory entrance with the
professor's single crate of medical supplies. When the transport
vehicle stops, both women hop out and Erika grabs the crate out of
the back. The soldier in the passenger's seat runs out to meet
her.

Soldier:
May I help you with that ma’am?

Erika:
No,
I'm quite all right, thanks.

He nods in compliance and
turns to the professor.

Soldier:
Is there anything else we can do for you, Ms.
Gavine?

Gwen:
Well, you could give your General a sturdy open-handed slap
for me. That would be nice.

Soldier:
Uhhhh…

Gwen:
I'm
just kidding, soldier. Perhaps one day he'll ask for it, and I'll
be fortunate enough to be in the vicinity when he
does.

The soldier, who is just
trying to help, is unsure how to respond to the malicious words
directed at his superior. He does, however, sputter
nonsensically.

Gwen:
You
can go.

Soldier:
Uh, thank you, ma’am.

The soldier nods politely
at both women and jumps back into the passenger's seat of the white
transportation truck, which takes off down the two-lane underground
passage soon after. When they see it round a corner, Gwen leads
Erika to the nearby entrance of her lab.

Gwen:
Are
you sure you don't need a hand with that? Those crates are pretty
heavy, and you're so petite.

Erika:
I'm
fine, thank you.

Gwen:
You
know, these soldiers are here to be used. You should've let him
carry it. Why break your own back?

Erika:
Give a man an inch, and he'll take a mile. I'm fine, anyhow.
Trust me, I've lifted things much heavier.

Gwen:
Really?! Well, I guess that's why you’re the super solider,
and I'm the medical professor. Besides, you make a good point..
about men.

Gwen finishes punching in
the code for the door and it slides open in the same fashion as all
the other high-tech entryways. They walk into the lab, which is far
better lit than Doctor Alyster's and much cleaner. There are no
shelves in this room, but five high desks with vials and test tubes
on them, as well as five beds that look to be some sort of hybrid
between hospital and examination. It is certain that many have
fallen unconscious on them, but Erika is pretty sure that rest
isn't one of their primary uses. The harnesses attached don't look
very relaxing.

At the far back end of the
room are a few workmen desks with computers and papers piled high.
A man sits at one of them clacking away at the keyboard, but Erika
can only see the back of his head.

Strewn throughout the room
are more men, and another woman in scientific dress. Looking into a
microscope and sitting by himself on a stool at the high desk
farthest away from the entrance is an older Indian man, about sixty
years of age. He looks very into whatever it is he is studying.
Gwen and Erika approach a high desk, where two other doctors stand
looking down at and scribbling on a piece of paper. One is a middle
aged Spanish woman with a young face, and the other, a slender
white male gifted with height. He too is middle aged, but his
background is unclear. They pay no mind to Erika and the professor
as they draw nearer.

Rosa:
Ah,
ha!

Gwen:
Making some progress are we?

Bernard:
No… She just beat me in Tic-Tac-Toe.

Rosa:
I
didn't
just
beat you in Tic-Tac-Toe. I flushed your ridiculous theory
down the toilet.

His accent reveals that the
tall man is of British descent. The smaller lady sports a mild
Spanish accent.

Gwen:
Theory? What theory? Why aren't you guys
working?

Rosa:
This
ignorant man claims that men have higher attention spans, and women
lack the capacity to focus for an equivalent amount of time. So I
challenged him to a game of Tic-Tac-Toe.

Bernard:
I
stand by my word.

Rosa:
How
can you do that when I just beat you?

Bernard:
Men have to concentrate more. It's fundamental biology. We
tend to have to do things that require more condensed focus.
Hunting, courting
and
mating require a tremendous degree of
concentration if the male is to achieve a high rate of success.
Females, on the other hand, have always been more skilled in things
such as multi-tasking; collecting, sorting, that type of thing.
They do these things well even simultaneously.

Rosa:
Ay,
Dios mio. You are com
plete
ly narrow-minded. How can
you call yourself a man of science?

Bernard:
I
am
not
narrow-minded. These are facts, and I don't see why you're
getting so uptight. Men are good at one thing, and women, another.
One should be aware of their innate and obligatory intelligences.
If they were, it would make life on our planet run much
smoother.

Rosa:
It's
this type of mentality that holds women back from fulfilling their
true potential. I would never be where am today if I thought like
that.

Bernard:
Back from what, a happy husband and loving family? You're a
brilliant woman, and I believe that women should follow their
dreams. All I'm saying is that we should all know our place on the
spectrum of sentience.

Gwen:
How
can you talk about dreams when the world is suffering through a
nightmare?

Bernard:
Mm, ennui?

Gwen:
You're telling me you can't find
one
productive thing to do? The
supplies have arrived. Sort them. Oh, you can leave those here, Ms.
Blaze.

Erika finally places the
crate on the floor, and for the first time is taken in by the
confrontational doctors.

Bernard:
Who is this?

Gwen:
Erika Blaze. She was sent with The
Mav-Elite.

Bernard:
Is that so?

Gwen:
That
is exactly so. She's a
super
soldier, so I'd watch what you say about women
around her.

Bernard:
Well, it's just gathering and sorting at a "super" level,
isn't it? Dr. Bernard Winston.
(offers
his hand)