INFECTED (Click Your Poison) (43 page)

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

Y
ou help Deleon up, putting his arm around your shoulders, and stare Cooper down. Her eyes narrow in hate, but she says nothing. She simply turns and runs the other way while you and the doctor hobble down the hall together.

The zombies still meander, but now they see you. They growl ferociously and start toward you with purpose. Deleon grits his teeth and pushes through the pain, but now the undead stumble-run after you as their excitement grows. You push harder, forcing him to move more quickly, until he’s hopping on his good leg and swinging his battered knee with cries of anguish.

The flesh-eaters want you desperately now, and they’re gaining. You’re like a wounded fish, chumming the waters. The lab is just ahead, but it looks as if they might beat you there. You hurry, and in a last-ditch effort—you
shove
Deleon inside. You follow him in, but you’re left with a searing pain in your arm as you slam the door shut behind you.

The undead horde crashes into the door with such collective mass that the door jamb breaks and the handle is effectively useless. You desperately push against it and Deleon uses his last ounce of strength to smash his pickaxe through the tiles, burrowing the spire and effectively blocking their entrance for the time being. You look to your arm—it’s exactly what you feared: you’re bitten.

Deleon pulls himself to the counter and manages to get up on his good leg. He looks pale and sweaty, if not oily. Together you look at his exposed bite wound. It’s worse than ever now. The bite oozes with pus and the black veins have spread. He must be incredibly close to turning.

The doctor finds a syringe and draws in the completed cure from the centrifuge. You look to your own bite wound. There can be no doubt about it… you’re infected. Maybe you can last long enough for the next batch? Or maybe he can lock you in the closet until it’s ready?

Suddenly, and without warning, Dr. Deleon injects
you
with the cure. You’re shocked, unable to speak. “You’re… safe now,” the doctor announces.

“Wh—why me? You have to live,
you
have the cure!”

He’s in terrible shape, almost turned. “You… do too. In… your blood,” he gasps. “Take my notes… find the others… the prison.”

The door crashes open. You freeze, with your eyes closed, but nothing happens. You open them. The ghouls stand in the room, evidently without a purpose. They just look ahead, lifeless, paying you no mind. Slowly, you move forward. There, looking you in the face, is zombie Dr. Phoenix, and the walking corpse stares right through you.

You move without fear, amongst them now. After a moment, Deleon walks past you too, without pain—newly undead.

•
 
Go to the radio room.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

F
irst things first. You go outside and start ripping out planks from your fence. Your picketed American dream will now have to protect you from the American nightmare. Bringing everything you could possibly need inside your house, you close and lock the door, but not before spray-painting “Alive inside” above the entry. Hopefully the undead don’t read.

Boards and nails on every door and window, you blot out the sun for God-knows-how-long. But you’re a survivor, and smart, so you keep busy preparing. Beyond the boards you prop your couch, bookshelves, entertainment stand, whatever; up against the openings to your home.

The barricades securely in place, it’s time to set up for the long haul. You fill your bathtub and sinks to the brim with fresh water—it could turn off before you know it.

Everything prepared, you set your favorite blunt object within arm’s reach and sit down to watch the news and ceremoniously burn the bills you’ll never have to pay again.

*     *     *

Only six days into hiding, you get your first visitors. The phones don’t work, and your television and internet have long been down, so you’re unsure what to expect. You’ve played about as much solitaire as is humanly possible, and in an ironic twist of fate, your house is now more clean and ready for company than it was before things went bad. There were a few scary nights, rustling in the bushes, scratches at the doors and windows, and a slight moaning to ensure you haven’t slept much. But no one has
really
tried to get in—until now.

The two zombies outside paw at your house like velociraptors checking the fences for weak spots. You’re not sure if you did something to alert the undead but they’re here, and they really want in. The moaning is louder than you’ve heard, and much more urgent.

With a crash, one of your window panes is smashed in. Your home security alarm blares ferociously. What might have helped alert you while you were sleeping now alerts the whole neighborhood like a dinner bell.

You curse yourself for keeping it on and run to turn it off. But the damage is done. With the window open, they can smell you, and now you can hear the distant moan of more to come. The boards are still in place, so that should buy you some time—but the boards won’t hold forever.

•
 
Fend them off one by one with my Louisville Slugger. I don’t care if I have to battle the whole town!

•
 
I’ll grab what I can and head up to the attic. Spiders and rats over zombies any day!

•
 
Down into the basement. I’ve already got some stuff down there, and it works in the movies!

MAKE YOUR CHOICE