The Aftermath: Parts I and II (2 page)

See, deep down the human instinct is for the rest of the human race.  Not the loyalty and honor I mentioned before and also labeled as bullshit.  Something more primal.  I mean hell... I guess it could be the bullshit for some people, but my argument stands.  Biologically we want to repopulate and take over the Earth.  The end of the world doesn't change that.  So people wanted to know why it was we weren't doing that.  Honestly, most of the leaders didn't have an answer.

Because we had started to relax.

The truth is I have no idea what happened.  My best guess is that someone got pissed and killed someone.  Or someone let someone else in that shouldn't have been in.  Either way someone became a meat sack, and made more of them.

See, meat sacks aren't smart, fast, or creative.  However, when trying to fight them off you want the old, young, and weak.  You want it to be the exact type of person that we had kept out.  As stupid as they are and appropriate as it is to label them meat sacks, they still retain some of their strength, and that's the last thing you want.

I mean I can't really be surprised that it happened.

"But you don't know what happened?"  The woman asked with a sigh.

"Yes, I do.  We relaxed.  Can I pinpoint who got turned first or in what details shit fell apart?  No, but I do know it happened because we relaxed."

"So why are you still here?" she pressed.

"Honestly I'm a survivor."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I noticed trouble, I took supplies, and I got the fuck out."

"You didn't relax."  It was more of a statement than a question.

"No I didn't," he said with a small smile.  "Then you guys found me, I guess recognized me, and brought me to your own little community to find out what happened."

She sighed and grabbed the pack of cigarettes.  He could see her counting them and doing some quick math in her head.  After a few moments she gave up and lit one.

"You didn't bring me here to grill me about the cruel community with the harsh rules and extreme punishment.  It wasn't the trophies or dismissing those that didn't meet our expectations.  You brought me hear because you heard we survived for more than a year and then suddenly got overrun."

She didn't answer but he could tell by the look on her face.

"We relaxed.  We forgot that for every one of us there is what?  A hundred of them?  You were smart enough to be frightened by what happened to my community.  You were freaked out enough to hunt survivors down and bring them here."

"But?"

"It always happens the same way…," he said pulling in a long drag.

S
he blinked quickly as lights flooded the room with the unnatural florescent glow.  Almost instantly she began shaking her head as the light hum began.  She didn't even realize she was doing it most of the time, it was an instant reaction.  She had never been able to handle florescent lightening.  Many times she found herself thinking that she wished she had thought of that before signing up for this mission.

Her routine was pretty much automated at this point.  Many times she would pause and realize that much like shaking her head at the lights she didn't realize what she had done until it was done.  Turn on the computer.  Grab a new file folder and date it, fill it with the paperwork she would need to fill out for this shift, and pick up a few pens.  Once that was all set she walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine to open and let sit.  She put her dinner in the microwave and heated it up, and once it was ready it joined the paperwork and wine on the table.

She always paced and stretched a few times before walking over to the room before her.  Eventually she would sigh, turn on the lights, and look at her subjects.  A quick flick of the wrist to get the face of her watch up and a note of the time before she leaned close to the window and observed them.  Her first notes were made and she began to eat her dinner, all the while looking at them.

The computer was set up to automatically alert her to any news, though it hadn't done so in a few months.  She kept in on though, maybe because it was part of her job, or maybe because the noises it made helped over power the hums from the lights.  It always took her twenty minuets to eat and then clean up, and then a second glass of wine was poured.  Just in time for her second set of notes to be made.

The format was simple: time, observations, and notable changes.  Each paper looked the same as the last.

After observing for an hour it was time for their injections.

She grabbed six syringes and prepped them.  Filling them with the liquid she had been told would change things and make her mission worth while.  Then with a heavy sigh she opened the door and entered the room.  Each one was chained up and really no risk to her, but she still hated it.  It wasn't fear that made her feel that way.  It was the sense of disgust and hopelessness that it caused.  They all reacted to her, but not like a person reacts to another, rather the way a rabid dog reacts to what it perceives a threat.  Within seconds they went from almost silent to nearly screaming with growls and snarls

Each one got their injection and then she hurried from the room securing the door behind her.  More notes, more wine, more sitting.

"You know I can only last so long before I have to talk to someone," she would eventually say in her desperation to make the time go by.  "I mean of course you know this, I tell you every single night,"  she would pause, "I don't know why I tell you every single night, or why I ask why I tell you.  I simply do."

Not that talking actually caused any reaction or change from her subjects, but something in her believed it might.  That and she simply couldn't stand sitting in silence for so long.

"You know I really thought this was some sort of dream when I signed up for it.  Humanity is going to fall apart, but in a few short months you or one of the other scientists will be able to fix it.  I mean honestly it's the dream.  Scientists always want to be a part of the next big thing.  They want to find something new, help cure something, fix the environment.  Anything really but it just has to be new.  When the world falls apart the last thing you'll probably get to focus on is that.  I mean you'll have to focus on basic survival, no time to spend looking through microscopes or documenting like I'm doing.  I mean your skills will still be useful, but not ever for discovering new things.  For some it's a fate worse than death.  So naturally I would jump at the chance to still be involved with discovery.  Even if I didn't make the break through, my time would be spent doing what I do best.

I never really considered the full extent of what they were asking me to do though.  I also never considered how little research I would actually be doing.  See, I am not developing what I am poking you with every few night.  I am not changing it, working on it, trying to fix it.  All I am doing is injecting you then observing.  I am using less of my skills then I probably would be if I were out there.  See, they thought they got the serum right, they thought we just needed to tweak with the amount or give it time.  So I signed up for the safety assuming that after a few months at most someone would know how much to inject and how long it would take.  I also thought that they would give me the equipment needed to make my own serums if this one didn't work.  Instead I am stuck in the same routine that I long ago discovered was completely pointless."

She paused and allowed what she had just said sink in a little.  Her heart felt heavy and her mind felt tired.  It was the first time the words had ever passed her lips and the weight of it was almost more than she could bare.

"Not to say you are pointless, or that helping you is pointless.  I mean you are my guests here and I guess that was pretty insulting.  I simply mean my efforts to help you are helpless since they never change.  Plus I guess helping you really isn't a priority.  I mean even if we found what one would call a cure it doesn't really change your current state.  It simply changes what you have the ability to do in your current state.  I mean I guess it's pretty harsh of me to say that I want you dead but it's the truth.  I wouldn't want to offend you by lying to you.  I would also settle for evidence that you might stop doing what it is that you are doing, but I find that very unlikely."

Yet even as she explained to the subjects the fact that her experiments wouldn't yield any useful results she couldn't help but continue to fill out the forms and jot down the notes every half hour.

"I guess though, I've grown dependent on this routine.  I don't want to do it anymore, but I still don't stop.  I mean I clearly break a lot of the rules.  No drinking while on duty being one of the main ones.  Really these bottles were supposed to be left in the living quarters, but you know after a few months I realized I needed the amusement.  I just can't bring myself to completely give up.  Probably because as useless as I am at least it's something to do.  Not really something to do since it involves a lot of sitting and writing the same thing over and over, but I can trick myself into believing it's productive."

She walked over to the fridge and grabbed another bottle of wine.

"You'll excuse me for clearly ignoring the no getting drunk rule.  I would gladly share, but you know that would be a waste of good booze.  If you don't react to that drug you really aren't going to react to this.  Though it must be boring to watch me get drunk while you just stand there and... What do you do?  Moan?"

She paused and poured more wine.

"It's not that I am not trying to entertain you, honestly I am.  The main issue is of course that I simply can't.  Speaking of entertainment though, you know what else I miss?  Books.  I have hundreds, but I miss new books.  I miss discovering a gem or classic that I had some how missed.  I miss when I could go to the new releases and be told that this book would remind me of a book that I have loved for years.  The first time I took in those new words, the feel of a new book in my hands.  My weekly book club discussions.  The random discussions that sparked between myself and strangers at bookstores, or over coffee with new dates.  I am grateful for all the wonderful books they've given me, but it will never be the same.  I would love to hear your thoughts on Lovecraft, Vonnegut, Orwell, Palahniuk, or Poe.  Some sort of stimulating conversation on what you like or dislike about their writing style, choice of plot devices, foreshadowing, anything.  Books simply beg for intellectual conversation.  It's hard to read and feel like I can be truly satisfied.  The first time I read those books sure, but each time I reread them without some way to express my opinions or talk about them the experience is starting to feel more and more hollow."

She drank a few more glasses thoughtfully.

"I also shockingly enough miss horror films.  They stocked my library with plenty of films, but considering the situation stayed away from much that could be described as horror.  A few classics, which I am grateful for, but very little else.  I suppose I can see the thought process behind avoiding the horror section.  It's safe to make the assumption that seeing that type of film would drive those of us doing this to some sort of breaking point.  To be entirely honest though denying that little piece of this world seems shallow.  Not watching horror films does not change what is going on right outside my doors.  I am sure they didn't want us thinking about it much because they didn't want us to slip into some sort of depression.  However it seems like the slump is inevitable, and forcing us to ignore certain aspects of the average life only make it only more apparent."

Her last glass was poured and she knew the line had long since been crossed.  She needed to sit for just a moment before grabbing another bottle, which she also knew she would.

"It's so weird how organized my life has gotten.  Prepared meals, a stock of books and movies that I've seen so many times.  I wake, I work out, I shower, I find my little box of food, my entertainment, I work on this experiment if you could even call it that anymore.  Like I said I've grown dependent on the routine, but I am just so desperate for something to break it up.  If you even gave me a glimmer of hope that there is a little at the end of this tunnel.  But just like I can't entertain you, you can't do that for me."

"I miss the sound of a human voice."  It was less of a statement and more of a plea.

She sighed and grabbed her cup and walked up to the window.  She got very close to it and stared intently at the faces in front of her.  It was hard to focus completely but she looked into the eyes of each of them.  Desperately she searched for some sign, for some reflection.  Would they look back at her, did they know she was talking to them.  A moment of realization that a voice was talking to them over the speaker, any sort of reflection that she was there.  Her response was moans and eyes even more glazed over than her own.  She flicked her wrist again and looked down at her watch.  With a large exhale she walked back to the table to take more notes.  She grabbed another bottle of wine and plopped herself back down.

"I never thought I would actually miss people.  I mean it's not as horrible as it sounds, I just never fit in.  When I was a child I was always an outcast, and as I got older it never got better.  I always had what some would call weird hobbies, then with age came my attitude.  It was easy for them to ignore me because I was weird, and I only sealed the deal when I began to look down on everyone in every way.  I was smart and everyone sucked, and there was no possible chance for me to connect with people.  To this day I still say most people suck, but my attitude wasn't entirely fair either.  I got trapped into this bubble where I was always right and life experience... or well, hell, any experience didn't get in.  I found myself to be just as horrible as everyone else.  It was very hard for me to connect with people so I honestly never imagined myself desperately missing them."

She paused again, took a few more rounds of notes and thought while drinking.

"I did meet a guy though.  He asked me not to join this study, and I almost didn't.  It was so hard for me and we just... clicked on so many levels.  Actually it was hard for both of us.  We were awkward, distrusting, people didn't trust us.  You know all the classic bs.  Still... we managed to find a way to connect with one another.  Once we actually got together things were so nice.  I mean between our shyness and hatred of people it took awhile for the actual dating to happen, but it was clear to me once it did that we were meant to be together.  It wasn't that we agreed on everything we loved, yeah we had a lot of the same hobbies but there were a few disagreements.  For instance my favorite writer was always Poe, his was Lovecraft.  Though, I guess when thinking about it, even that is more similar than different.  We could talk to one another though, thoughtful discussion was a cornerstone of our relationship.  At the same time though we could also kick back with a pizza and watch something stupid for good times.  There was our thoughtful side and our fun side, and the combination of the two made it a good relationship for me."