Our Undead (47 page)

Gwen:
Ha
ha. I like you. Billy, right? You're smart. How old are
you?

She starts putting things
away as her and Billy continue conversing.

Billy:
I'm
fifteen.

Gwen:
Jesus, you look twelve. It's rare to find a fifteen year old
like you around these days, and I mean even before the infection
started.

Billy:
I
can't really imagine you knowing many fifteen year olds, in the
first place.

Gwen:
Hey,
don't be
smart
smart. I have a rather large family, all
right?

Billy:
Sorry. It's Margaret. She's kinda rubbed off on me. Um yea, I
just like to read, and I watch a lot of movies… zombie ones, in
particular.

Gwen:
Heh,
I guess that explains it. Margaret… You're friend, she's
quite-

A loud thump ends their
conversation abruptly as some unknown body bursts through the
laboratory doors. They hear whoever or whatever it is coming toward
them, one footstep after the next, and the swish of privacy
curtains being thrust open as the approaching entity seeks to find
which one they're hidden behind. Then, a voice barks aloud, giving
the creature's identity away.

Feleider:
GAVINE!

Gwen's face sours, as this
time, the curtain her and Billy stand behind is swung open, and
General Feleider's grim mug appears on the other side. Billy sees
Gwen's body deflate much like Abe's did when she put him under
sedation. When he see's the General, he isn't surprised by his
appearance at all, fully dressed, complete with metals even at this
late hour in the morning. If he had to place a bet, Billy would
probably wager that the man never changes his clothes; so proud.
Feleider doesn't even look in Billy's direction. His mean eyes are
set on Gwen.

Feleider:
One of the grunts told me that there were some new arrivals
in the compound, and one of them was covered in a bed sheet. What
is the- Who is this?

Billy finally comes to the
General's attention. The boy remains still, watching the
intimidating man in silence, though he, himself, is not intimidated
in the least.

Gwen:
His
name is Billy. He's one of the new arrivals.

Feleider:
What is he doing in here, and where is the other
man?!

Gwen:
I
needed to make sure the boy wasn't infected, and I'm not sure whom
this
other man
is that you speak of.

Feleider:
The man in the sheet. The driver that dropped you off here,
he said he dropped you off with a boy and a man covered in linen.
Is-

Gwen:
Oh,
that
man. I checked him already. He was all right, so I had
another driver take him to the dorms so he could get some
sleep.

Feleider:
Why was he covered in linen?

Gwen:
He
had a pretty nasty gash on his face, and he's one of those model
types, very arrogant. He found it very embarrassing, especially
being back where he could be seen by the public, so he asked for
something to cover himself up with.

Feleider:
Right…
Stage
fright
… So, how is your research
coming along then, Gwyneth?

Gwen:
You
know damn well that Gwen isn't short for anything,.. Reginald. It's
going just fine, thank you.

Feleider:
Mmm, good. This child needs to be sent to the dorms
immediately. Civilians are not permitted in this area. I shouldn't
have to tell you that, and he should've been sent back with the
timorous model type.

Gwen:
I
needed to check him, and he wanted to stay and watch. I didn't see
any harm in it.

Feleider:
If he needed to be checked he should've been sent to the Care
Centre. That's what it's for. Have him brought to the dorms, now.
And you, you should get some sleep. It's almost one thirty, and
you're beginning to look rather ragged.

Gwen:
…
sure.

Feleider:
Heh… Carry on, then.

He looks at Abe's sleeping
body momentarily, before turning his back on them and leaving the
room. Billy and Gwen catch eyes.

Billy:
That must be-

Gwen:
The
asshole, Feleider.

Billy:
-the asshole commander.

Gwen:
That's right. Calling me "ragged". He should speak for
himself, that aged bag of excrement.

Billy chuckles a bit at the
professional woman's attempt at an insult.

Gwen:
Look, I should get you to the dorms. You were right when you
said he wouldn't hesitate to throw someone in lockup, even a kid
like you.

Billy:
I
would like to see Margaret first, if that's all right. And what's
gonna happen with Abe? She won't be happy if he's separate from
her. She'll fight you,.. even with a broken
ankle.

Gwen:
Is
that right? Odd. I hope you don't mind me asking, but is there… or
was there… a relationship between them? Is she related to this
person?

Billy:
No.
Actually, Abe killed her mother and father.

Gwen stares at him,
shell-shocked.

Billy:
She's just grown attached to him. He wasn't always this
submissive. She trained him, and apparently, it was a pretty
grueling process. Once she found that he had the ability to learn
things, I guess she figured that there was still some human inside
of him. I, personally, didn't believe her at first, especially when
he tried to bite my face off, but the more time I've spent with
him, the more I've begun to feel the same way.

Gwen:
That's… incredible. I promise you, he'll be safe. I'll keep
him somewhere out of everyone's way, somewhere no one will find
him.

Billy:
That's very considerate of you, but it won't be good enough.
She's going to want him there, with her while she sleeps. It's
either that, or expect some defiance.

Gwen:
Hmm,
she's a feisty one, huh?

Billy:
She
can be a bit testy.

Gwen:
Ha,
okay. I think I can do something for her.

<><><>

In one of the smaller four
man carts, Gwen and Billy, zombie excluded, pull up to the entrance
of the Care Centre in A-1. Inside, Margaret is sitting upright on
one of the many hospital beds. Erika and an older Caucasian nurse
are standing beside her. The tired nurse is putting the finishing
touches on Margaret's cast. Looking up from her broken foot, the
bandaged girl gets excited when she sees her friend and the
professor enter the room.

Margaret:
Hey!

Nurse:
Shh..

Margaret:
Sorry… Hi, guys…. Uh, where's-

Gwen:
He's
fine. We left him in my room. You'll be staying in there
tonight.

Margaret:
Really? Is there enough room? Where are you gonna
sleep?

Gwen:
It's
all right. I have a lot of work to do and.. an irregular amount of
enthusiasm at the moment. I don't think I'll be sleeping tonight.
Besides, Billy tells me you and Abe have a very special connection.
I'll find a place if I need to sleep, don't you worry. Just get
some rest, okay?

Margaret:
I really appreciate that, professor.

Gwen:
Call
me Gwen. How is everything wrapping up around
here?

Nurse:
They're wrapping up just fine, professor, however, she has
multiple fractures in her talus and fibula. She'll have to wear a
cast for a few weeks, but I've never seen anyone more excited about
the restoration process.

Gwen:
Excited? Why's that?

Margaret:
Just look at these things.

Margaret reaches behind her
back and reveals to Gwen and Billy a pair of forearm
crutches.

Billy:
Crutches…

Margaret:
They're not just
any
crutches. They're called SideStix. They're the
best forearm crutches available.

Billy:
Is
that so?

Gwen:
They
are. Lightweight carbon fibre, superb durability, very
comfortable.

Margaret:
Soooo comfortable.

Erika:
Yea, she's already been galloping up and down the entire
Centre.

Nurse:
Despite being forewarned.

Margaret:
Sorry… but I had to test them. I didn't wake anyone, and I'm
totally used to them already. It's like my ankle isn't even broken…
sort of.

She fastens each crutch's
cuff around each of her forearms and hops off the bed. Upon
landing, she stumbles a bit, and Billy has to catch her to keep her
from falling over.

Billy:
Maybe not totally used to them yet, huh?

Margaret:
Shut up.

She shrugs him off and
walks a wide circle around everyone and the bed she was seated on,
using the SideStix like a professional.

Margaret:
See?

Billy:
Psh.

Gwen:
Yes,
yes. It looks like you have those things under control. You can get
more practice tomorrow, but for now, I think the two of you should
probably clean yourselves up and get some sleep.

Margaret:
Maybe you're right. We slept on the ride over here, but it
was horribly uncomfortable. I woke up more tired than when I fell
asleep.

Erika:
…and no disrespect, but you guys stink.

Margaret:
I agree. I'd love a shower.

Nurse:
Oh,
you can't take a shower now. The most you can do is use a sink and
wipe yourself down with a washcloth, but you can't get your cast
wet.

Margaret:
(sighs)
Awesome. This is one of
the smelliest days of my life and I can't take a
shower.

Billy:
You've had smellier.

Margaret:
I said, "ONE OF THE".

Nurse:
Shh!

Margaret:
Sorry…

Gwen:
A
sink bath will have to do for now. I'll take you to the showers so
you both can clean up. I'll bring you some new clothes, and then
take you to my room.

Margaret:
Sounds good.

Gwen:
Great. Erika? May we give you a lift
somewhere?

Erika:
No,
that's all right. I should probably get some rest too, but I'll
find my own way, thanks.

Gwen:
Okay. Well then, ladies. You both have a goodnight.
Kids?

Margaret thanks the women for their help, and Erika and the
nurse bid them all have a goodnight. Margaret, Billy, and Professor
Gavine leave the Care Centre for Gwen's quarters.

NIGHT CLASPED

His lab is darker than
usual. All but one light, his desk light, which has been left on
for Fausta the mouse's sake, is turned off as Doctor Alyster gets
some sleep for the night. He lays, passed out awkwardly on a futon,
half covered and snoring loudly with his mouth wide open. It is a
horrible sight, but truly the good doctor is at his most
comfortable when asleep, when his mind can invent unimaginable
things and solve problems it might not be able to solve when
awake.

Currently, inside of his
brilliant mind, he is awake and sitting at a desk, a desk that is
much larger than it needs to be, in an office that is much too big
for such a small man. Instead of his usual white garb, Doctor
Alyster is dressed in a fine black suit, and his thinning faded
hair is slicked back and styled with class. Dream Alyster closes
the laptop that sits in front of him and slowly gets up from his
seat. His posture is perfect and proud as he walks over to the
life-sized window that makes up the entire back wall of his office.
He stands by it, hands in his pocket, the esteem radiating from his
physique. Towering over it all, he looks down on to an unknown, but
extremely well developed city and grins from ear to ear. His eyes
come across a billboard that reads, "Get Infected!" A beautiful
woman with a glowing smile is on the ad, and beside her, a man who
is just as attractive and stacked with muscles. Both are holding up
a bottle of what looks like a soft drink, the bottle reading,
"ParaSoda".