INFECTED (Click Your Poison) (99 page)

O
nce again, time flies and you see no sign of humanity. Maybe they’re all dead? Maybe the Earth is now and forevermore host to your immortal walking club? Still, you search. It doesn’t bother you, the endless walking. You’ll never get sore or tired, and there are simply too many nooks and crannies on this planet for you to explore.

So you’re taken a bit by surprise as you’re walking on the outskirts of the city, and the cool night air is pierced by the sound of a large diesel generator starting up. Deer don’t start generators. Raccoons don’t need power. Fresh, human meat is surely nearby.

Just as you turn to move toward the noise, another sound surprises you, and this one even more so. It’s like an old WWII raid siren, and when you turn your head, you see searchlights arcing their way through the sky above a newly powered building.

Two distinct signs of humanity, and you’re right in the middle of the both. So, which one will it be?

•
 
First come, first served, and I heard the generator first.

•
 
That siren makes it seem they really want me to come, and I hate to disappoint.

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

I
f you could just sign this non-disclosure agreement. Oh yes, that’s standard for all janitors. We do a lot of hush-hush work here. You’ve heard of
Gilgazyme
 ®, right? Well, this is just like Wonka’s chocolate factory, except the secret behind our everlasting gobstopper—which is
truly
everlasting—is worth billions. Okay, just initial here saying you won’t sell our mice carcasses, and initial here saying if you steal our product and alter your genetic code, you then become company property. Also, our lawyers tell us we should explicitly inform you that “moral qualms” are not grounds for release from employment. That’s it! Welcome. Here’s your jumpsuit and there’s the mop. Get to janitizing!

You’re in. Time to find out more about what goes on here. The whole place has tiled floor, and you’ve got a key to be anywhere without arousing suspicion: a mop and a bucket. You’ve also got a literal set of keys, and a key-card labeled, “LEVEL ONE ACCESS.”

There’s a sign on the wall explaining the split in the hallway; where to?

•
 
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.

•
 
The bathrooms… Dirty toilets stink of dirty janitors. You don’t want the staff getting suspicious on your first day!

MAKE YOUR CHOICE

N
estled within the trees, a bastion of hope and humanity is a sight to behold. If you were seeing this structure for the first time during its heyday, as an inmate arriving for day one of the rest of your life, you might’ve pissed yourself. Just the mere façade would’ve rattled your bones more deeply than any zombie could ever hope to reach. What was once a “Reformatory”—a castle where men would go to die once sentenced—was remodeled and upgraded to a modern prison.

Now it’s a fortress against the undead.

The high buttressed walls shoot up through the woods; the surrounding acre is cleared of all foliage. You feel like a character in a gothic horror tale, arriving to collect the inheritance of a peculiar uncle, ready to face the ghosts of the manor. And yet you’re here not for ghosts, but for the living.

Around the massive stone walls, beyond a few yards of grass, rests another barrier: a chain link fence topped with razor-edged concertina wire.

“This is totally
Shawshank
,” Rosie remarks, bouncing with glee.

You continue around the edge of the fortress toward the front entrance. As you round the corner, a zombie bashes against the fence, leaving both you and the fence rattled. He opens his bloodied mouth and bites at the chain link between you. Rosie raises her rifle.

“Wait!” Lucas says. “Look.”

She lowers her weapon and you both follow Lucas’ finger to the zombie’s throat. Something was cut out. That’s when you notice the ghoul’s not moaning. His mouth opens and closes, but no sound is produced. There are two more undead on his other side, each with the same surgical mark on the throat.