Our Undead (48 page)

When Alyster sees this, his
grin broadens even further, and then he hears a little squeaking
sound. He turns his head to see a little glass cage, which has
appeared on his neatly kept desk. He walks over to it.

Dr. Alyster:
Ah, miene sveet little friend.

Inside the cage is a little
white mouse pecking its tongue vigorously at its water bottle. When
the rodent hears Alyster's voice, it stops drinking and scurries
over to the side of the cage that the professor is standing on. The
doctor picks a pen up from his desk and lowers it into the glass.
He dangles it in front of his small friend, and the little mouse
starts pawing at the pen's blue cap.

Dr. Alyster:
Miene only troo companion, yes?

He continues letting the
mouse grab and gnaw at the pen cap, also stroking it down the
center of its back from time to time while making kissing noises
with his mouth. Suddenly, he stops. Something is wrong with the
little thing. As small as they are, Alyster can see the mouse's
eyes become blank and empty, and its body become still. It falls
over on to its side, stiff as a board.

Dr. Alyster:
Fausta?
Fausta?!

But the little mouse is
dead. Alyster taps it gently two times with his pen, but it's
useless. He gets no response. His old face becomes intense and red,
its wrinkles becoming dark and defined, and then his eyes begin to
water. Soon, tears begin to fall, and Alyster drops his head, in a
whimper. A strange sound brings his head up, back to looking inside
the cage. It's something like a sticker being peeled patiently off
of a wall. At first, there is no evidence of where the sound is
coming from, but then Alyster sees something small and black
protruding from the mouse's side. The thing grows larger, and
becomes recognizable as a writhing, scaly tentacle. A second
tentacle rips its way through the mouse's delicate hide, and then
another, and another. They continue to grow larger until there is
no mouse left, only a scaly black monstrosity with multiple
wriggling extremities, sitting on top of a torn carcass.

Alyster backs away from the
cage, deeply disturbed. Though its host body has been obliterated,
the thing in the case proceeds in expansion. It gets so big in
fact, that it starts pressing up against the sides of cage until
the pressure becomes too much, and the glass breaks. His disgust
turns to fright, which turns to terror when his back bumps into the
office wall. He runs to the door, which is located on the adjacent
wall and tries the knob, but somehow it is locked from the outside.
But how?! He struggles with it, twisting and tugging on it, but it
won't budge. Desperate, he resorts to banging his fists against the
fine timber.

Dr. Alyster:
HEEEELP!!! HEEEELP!!! HEE-- *gulp*

One of the thick black
tentacles wraps itself around Alyster's neck. He can no longer
yell. The freakish mutant has grown so large that it almost takes
up the entire office. Spit and sputters escape the old man's mouth,
and his head's hue changes from red to dark purple, about to
pop.

Feleider:
DOCTOR ALYSTER!!!

The good doctor continues
sputtering; only now, he is back in reality, lying on top of his
futon, inside of his messy laboratory. Even in the dim light he can
see Feleider's face grimaced, hovering above him.

Feleider:
This is no time for dreaming, doctor. We have
trouble.

Dr. Alyster:
Zhat vas no dream. Zhat vas a nightmare!! Ina soot vit
slicked back hair, in some corner offees… Rich man nonsense. Zhere
vas, however, a very interesting alien like species. I vould have
liked to see vhere zhat vas going.

Feleider:
Forget about that. They're on to us.

Dr. Alyster:
On to vhat? Who is zhat?
(coughs)

The doctor sits up on his
futon's edge.

Feleider:
Professor Gwen Gavine, that's who. I just saw her with a
specimen, and she had it lying face down.

Dr. Alyster:
So vhat!

The doctor gets up, waving
Feleider away and waddles over to the high table where Fausta the
mouse resides. Feleider's harsh entry into the lab had woken her up
as well. She looks up at Dr. Alyster when his head appears over the
cage, lively twitching her whiskers to and fro.

Feleider:
So what!? Don't be a fool. If they weren't sure where to look
for the infection before, they're getting damn close. It's most
likely that they already know it isn't of regular viral nature… We
need to have them completed, so we can send the modifications of
the E-TE12 out by tomorrow. Can you make that
happen?

Dr. Alyster:
I can do anysing, but it all depends on my leetle friend
heer. Vee'll know by tomorrow if zhe parasite is ready. Fausta vill
inform us of that occurrence.

Feleider:
Fausta… And where's Holden?

Dr. Alyster:
Sleeping somevhere? …As zhe hour vould
advise.

Feleider:
There's no time for sleep. His meddlesome teammates have
returned from the little chicken run I had them on, and they've
brought back some survivors. Apparently, there are three of them,
all with minor injuries, already taken care of.

Dr. Alyster:
And how does zhis concern my vork?

Feleider:
Sharp… I expect he'll attempt to butt heads with me by
sunrise. I won't put up with it, obviously, but I won't be able to
have him apprehended without causing some major suspicions. It
won't take him too long to hear about you, and when he does, Holden
had better be here to keep him away. The survivors… One was hidden
under a sheet. I just questioned the professor about it, and she
wasn't being completely honest with me. I don't know what it is
yet, but there's something going on there.

Dr. Alyster:
Hah! You and Holden are two very intuitive men, uh? Can
alvays spot zhe liar,.. but is it intuition or zhe
paranoia?

Feleider:
Intuition. Just make sure he knows that the situation has
intensified and that he needs to be ready for
confrontation.

Dr. Alyster:
You can tell heem yourself.

Doctor Alyster leaves
Fausta the mouse and walks back to his bed, laying down on it and
closing his eyes. Beyond where he had been standing, Feleider
notices a shadowy figure leaning up against the side of one of the
heavily stacked bookshelves, with something extending from it like
an extra leg. It looks sort of like a lounger, but as Feleider gets
closer to it, it becomes recognizable.

Feleider:
So you've just been sitting there the whole
time?

He still can't see his
face, but the dark figure in the shadows is Holden, sitting on a
chair with his arms folded and his feet resting comfortably on a
footstool of some sort. He doesn't bother to get up when The
General comes near. For all Feleider knows, Holden may still have
his eyes closed while his low voice grumbles back in
response.

Holden:
Unlike my associates, I find keeping my mouth shut to be a
much better way of learning things.

Dr. Alyster:
(from bed)
Zhis is troo. He
barely says a vurd.

Feleider:
(scoffs)
They're back. Can you
handle them?

Holden:
I
can handle Sharp… and the rest. The real question is, can this
compound handle a little tussle if it comes down to
it?

Feleider:
If you must, you must… but try not to let it get to that
point.

Feleider can hear a
scornful little chuckle escape from Holden's dark corner as he
walks out of Alyster's laboratory. As devious as The General knows
himself to be, there is something grave about the glorified
bodyguard's laugh that brings a bit of a chill to The General's
insides. Fortunately, it is accompanied by a warm conviction, a
confidence that tells him that Holden will be able to handle the
coming turbulence. He also hears the soft snoring of Doctor Alyster
as he leaves, no doubt dreaming of some species not so out of this
world.

<><><>

A man, unfamiliar to the
compound's blueprint, would find that the outside of Professor
Gavine's barracks looks identical to the outside of any other part
of the place. All white everything; white walls, white doors, all
white everything. The only difference is that instead of a handle,
her door is fitted with a knob, lock and key. What also sets it
apart is how far from everything it is. From the Care Centre, it
had taken the three of them about fifteen minutes to get there, and
about ten minutes into the journey, they hadn't seen one soul
walking about or even a cart driving by. It is quite secluded, but
it gives Margaret a sense of security, not for her own sake but
more for Abe's.

When they get to the door,
Gwen stops the cart and everyone gets off. Gwen's keys jingle as
she pulls them out of her lab coat pocket with Billy and Margaret
following close behind in their fresh new clothes. Both of them are
wearing plain white t-shirts and generic grey gym shorts with
slip-on walkabouts that are just as plain as the rest of their
attire. Billy holds both his knapsack and Margaret's, as the girl's
hands are occupied with crutches.

Gwen:
Welcome to your temporary home.

Margaret:
Again, I really appreciate this, professor.

Gwen:
It's
no trouble at all. I won't be using it tonight and there's no point
in letting it go to waste.

When Gwen turns the key,
the door swings slightly inward, revealing its pitch-black
interior. She removes the key from its hole completely and pushes
the door the rest of the way in. She walks in ahead of Billy and
Margaret and flicks on the light switch located on the wall right
next to the door. Before they enter, the two new arrivals peak into
the room from the outside. Although, Billy had been with Gwen when
she dropped Abe off, he didn't really get a chance to look
around.

The room isn't very
luxurious. Actually, it's quite dull. Although it is brightly lit,
its walls are the same boring white as the rest of the compound.
There is an office desk sitting on the wall opposite the door, with
a chair pushed into it. It's a desk that's on the cheaper side; one
of those with an uninspired laminate top, skinny aluminum legs and
a two compartment box drawer set on the right, tucked underneath
the desk's top. On top of it sits a few stacks of neatly piled
papers, a teacup of pens and a metallic desk lamp.

To the right of the desk,
about six feet away, on the adjacent wall is a half open closet.
From the door, the pair can see that there are hardly any clothes
inside of it. A few shirts have been hung up and a pair of slacks,
but that looks to be about it. Looking a little further to the
right, they can see why. On the floor next to the closet are a few
suitcases, all of them open and all of them still full of clothes,
for the most part. Most of the clothes are scattered about the
floor, with no sign of any method to the madness, but then they
spot something that seems to be more naturally fitting for a
doctor's lodgings; a fully extended yoga mat and exercise ball in a
matching light pink hues.

Gwen:
Aren't you going to come in?

The professor's voice calls
out to the sub-consciences of the pair, and they walk in without
responding. First enters Margaret on her enhanced crutches,
followed by Billy, both still taking in the room and its peculiar
drabness. Billy sets Margaret's knapsack on the floor where they
stand.

Gwen:
Sorry about the mess. I never really had time to unpack. I
tried, but I've been living out of my suitcases since I've been
here.

Margaret:
I see you do yoga.

Gwen:
Yes.
I try to get a little downward dog in here and there, but I haven't
really had time to exercise either.

Now fully inside the room,
everything to the left that had been covered by the door can now be
seen. To the left of the desk is a simple looking bed, fully made
with white sheets and two clean white pillows sitting at its head.
Beside the bed is a side table with a lamp and paperback. The title
of it is unclear. Margaret is taking in everything the room has to
offer and it all seems normal enough, but then something strikes
her as odd.

Margaret:
Hey… Where's Abe?

She looks to Gwen for an
answer and follows the point of the professor's thumb, which is
already up and pointing toward the corner that Margaret hasn't seen
yet, the one behind the door. In this corner, she sees what must be
Abe standing there, but he still has the sheet covering his head.
All she can see of him are his tattered dress pants and wrecked
bare feet from the knees down. To her, he looks like a child who
has just gotten in trouble by his parents for cutting holes in
their good sheets so that he could play ghost. He had gotten caught
and now, he was made to stand facing the corner. The thought sends
Margaret into a small fit of laughter.