INFECTED (Click Your Poison) (24 page)

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

“T
his dolly might help,” the engineer says, indicating a wheeled cart, large and flat. Lucas nods his thanks and clears the sound equipment off it.

With a fresh clip loaded in your shotgun—what is that, number three?—you prepare to head out. Lucas agreed to go for the water jugs while Rosie gets the rope. She takes the lead, while Lucas trails in the rear with the dolly.

Rosie pushes open the door, pelting off headshots at those in the hall with her massive pistol. If any weapon is oversized for the small punch it packs, it’s this one. But with a one-hundred-round capacity, it’s necessarily so.

The ghouls fall down before Rosie with ease, and since she’s got ammo to spare, she’s putting two slugs in each cranium before they fall to the floor. The engineer stays by your side, hunched over as if the undead will return fire.

Lucas peels off to get the water jugs, but Rosie rushes out, blasting away at the crowd that has gathered, and then runs towards the jeep. Eastwood remotely controls the CROWS system, systematically destroying any zombie that comes within its range.

You turn to run around the side of the building, hurrying to get the engineer to the rear and the tower. The place is crawling with ghouls, but nothing that a depress of the trigger on your AA-12 can’t handle. You blast them away two by two, carefully counting down from twenty shells.

Around the rear of the building is a large concrete base upon which the tower is built. “Give me a boost!” the engineer shouts, putting his hands on the lowest rung of the tower. You sling the shotgun over your shoulder and do as he asked.

After he starts climbing, you quickly reload your weapon.

•
 
Defend him while the others arrive.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

“Y
ou know what? I’m a generous bastard,” Phoenix says. He pulls out a
Gilgazyme®
inhaler from the pocket of his robe and hands it to you. “I’m doing my very own human trials, right here, right now. You and the girls get a one-day-only sale—100% off!”

The inhaler is minimally decorated; no words, only the symbol of infinity, ∞, repeated and interlocking like chain mail in shining silver décor around its light blue slender body. Over the mouthpiece is a red cap labeled, “Remove before use.”

Without hesitation, you pop the cap and suck down the cool solution from within. As you depress the injector, the formula forces itself into your throat and lungs. You can’t tell if it’s liquid or gas, but it coats your esophagus in a viscous embrace. The effervescent tingling spreads throughout your body and eventually dissipates altogether.

You don’t feel any differently. But, you realize, that’s sort of the point. You’ll never
be
any different. Tomorrow and all the rest of your days will feel the same as this day. No more will you age. Your body won’t decay and deteriorate like everyone else.

The party continues, but you’re not much interested in partying. You’re not much interested in anything. You just sit on the couch, staring out the penthouse windows, losing your zest for life as the
Gilgazyme®
changes your genetic code within. When Phoenix invites you up for a threesome with the bottomless hooker, you just sit and stare out the window. When the topless hooker tries to seduce you, you just sit and stare out the window. And when she overdoses and dies, choking on her own vomit, you just sit and stare out the window.

Be careful what you wish for: you’re immortal, but at what cost? You’ve extended your corporeal body indefinitely, but the price was your soul. Now the topless zombie rises next to you, a little too slowly. She looks at you, her matted hair stuck with dried vomit, making it impossible to see her face; glazed, hungry eyes stare out from under the mess.

Somehow she realizes you’re quickly on your way to becoming like her, and ignores you. You watch as she shuffles toward the stairs, her perfect-10 body pale and emaciated, bare feet padding against the hardwood floor.

When Dr. Phoenix screams out in terror, it does nothing to you. You’re not interested in eating him—yet—but you’re certainly not interested in helping him either. The two hooker zombies take care of him, while you just sit and stare out the window.

Soon he will rise again, the hunger will grow within you, and the four of you will want to go find more people with whom to share your gift. Your hands are all but useless, so you won’t be able to open the door. Unfortunately, his penthouse has a heavy metal door: industrial-warehouse-chic.

•
 
I guess that means I’ll just shamble around this plush apartment for the rest of time.

•
 
The door is open to the balcony, only thirteen stories down to sweet, sweet civilization.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

Y
ou crack your bat against Tyberius’ spine, causing him to lurch and release a gasping Cooper to the floor. He’s still crazed and grabs onto your bat. You shove him away, giving up the bat and pulling the rope to stop the flow of undead. But the shove was more than you both expected. Tyberius falls back, down the stairs and onto the landing—just before the barrier comes crashing down atop the welding mask zombie and your former companion.