INFECTED (Click Your Poison) (51 page)

“Trust me, you guys are gonna like this,” he says. He pulls out his radio, turns it on, announces he’ll just be a minute, and leaves the room. But it’s a long few minutes; everyone is trying not to look at each other, consumed by thoughts of past guilt.

Then the lights above the music room flicker on.

The radio crackles to life, and Sims’ voice comes through, “How about that, ha ha ha
HA
! And he said, let there be light.”

The group instinctively jumps to their feet. Hefty whoops and cheers, Guillermo gives you a hug, and Tyberius actually starts laughing. Cooper kisses you impulsively before grabbing the radio. “Sims! That’s fucking amazing, you actually did something right!”

“Okay, meet on the roof for part two. Sims out.”

•
 
Head to the roof.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

D
riven by an instinctual desire to be near the traffic sounds coming from below, you walk out on the balcony. Without even thinking, you keep walking right up to the railing and careen forward over the superficial barrier. The rail acts like a fulcrum for your waist, tipping you head-first out into the open air.

As the thirteen stories fly by, the sounds of civilization grow louder and you grow hungrier. You see pedestrians right below you. Only a few more feet and they’ll be yours. In your excitement, you begin to groan in anticipation. You stretch your arms out and open your jaws wide.

Then you hit the pavement. Your brain splatters all over the street like a bug against a windshield.

THE END

W
ell, aren’t you the industrious one. You go into the bathroom and you… clean the toilets. Exciting stuff, right? But your hard work pays off and you’re promoted to, wait for it, “Head Janitor” (there’s a pun here). Nothing strikes you as out of the ordinary in the bathroom and it appears that, despite discovering an end to aging, the good doctors’ shit does indeed stink.

Where to now?

•
 
Staff Offices… Maybe there’s some paperwork worth stealing, or perhaps you’ll spy on the famous doctors?

•
 
Rodent Testing Labs… They’re bound to have something valuable lying around.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

S
he gives you the open-palmed wave meaning, “be my guest.” You move forward in the woods, Rosie trailing behind you, straight toward the Ranger zombie. He sees you after only a few steps and immediately starts toward you in pursuit. He moans loudly and stumble-runs with feverish excitement.

It’s not a sprint, but he’s closing the football field between you faster than you’d like. Your adrenaline is pumping and the face-ripped-off, open-mouth wound is more intimidating than you’d care to admit.

When he gets within striking range, you bring down the axe over his head like you were splitting firewood. You don’t hit exactly in the middle of his head, but it doesn’t matter—his skull cracks open and the metal wedge smashes the brains within. He falls dead. You turn to Rosie with a grin of pride.

“It’s good to be confident with your primary weapon, but did you think about that moan he gave? Every zoo within earshot is hungrily coming to this position right now. A pop from my rifle would make some noise, sure, and they’d come to investigate. But now they’re coming hungry and fast, whereas they only shuffle over out of curiosity toward my 10/22.”

She slips off her backpack and removes a fifty-round drum magazine, which would make her rifle look like a Tommy-gun if she attached it.

“See this? That’s fifty dead Zulu. You should know how to use it, especially if something happens to me. Distance is your friend, buddy. If that Ranger would’ve bit you, I was ready to shoot you—don’t forget that.”

•
 
You look away. “We’d better get going.”