The Dead Live On (2 page)

Unfortunately for the President, he had picked that moment to exit the meeting room, and was the first to enter the hallway, (General Dean Harper followed close on his heels) just as the agents body violently heaved forward a second time, expelling a heavier, irrepressible stream of yellow bile. Disgusted and taken aback by this occurrence, Rosen and Harper quickly retired to their respective quarters to clean up. The agent, who was too sick to care that he had just puked all over the front of President of the United States, had collapsed in a heap on the floor as he
struggled to breathe through the bitter sludge that clogged his throat. Two fellow agents grabbed his arms and heaved him off the floor to escort to Dr. Richard’s office on the other side of the building.

Dr. Richards, having received a phone call from a trusted colleague, was already rushing down the hall to meet them.
He had to keep them from reaching the receiving area.  It had been found that the infection could be transferred through any sort of contact with a victim of the virus. He wasn’t going to bother with exams or the taking vitals, he already knew the diagnosis, and if they get lucky enough to have just a common flu bug; then good for them. He couldn’t afford to take that chance; he had to administer the right precautions. It didn’t matter who they were. It had to be done. Keeping his distance, he ordered the men that supported the agent to immediately quarantine him, Rosen, Harper and then themselves. He also he ordered the remaining agents to ensure that these actions were taken whilst keeping their distance.

His next task was to inform
the First Lady, Elle Rosen. He explained what happened to President Rosen and that he was indeed still alive, but they didn’t know for how long. At first, she refused to believe that it could be the virus; she told him he was mistaken and she had wanted a second opinion. After being informed that getting another Doctor would be pointless, she thought on this news for a moment before coming to grips with the situation and came to a final conclusion. She informed their grown two sons, Jacob and Joshua, of the situation and told them of her plans to be locked into the room with her husband. Of course, they protested and she hugged them both fiercely. She told them that she was proud of the fine young men that they had become and that they would be okay as long as they had each other. Elle had been with her husband for twenty-six years and had promised him that she would be there until the end and beyond, and so she would be.

Jacob opened the door for her; and both men waved and blew kisses to their father as she entered, and locked the door behind her. Moments later, an agent appeared with a drill, screws and chains and further secured the door. The brothers sat outside their room for many hours, listening to the sorrowful sobs of their mother when the president finally expired, and the more terrifying shrieks she emitted after he arose. They held each other and cried, until she fell silent and arose herself to bang weakly on the door. So lost in their grief, they were oblivious to an agent approaching them with only one intention.

Presidential Shelter

September 17th   2014

Walton County, Georgia

     Upon his arrival, Vice President Montgomery Mason was told of the President’s infection, and was angry that there was no one there to swear him in, as the new President of the United States. It didn’t matter to him that Jacob and Joshua Rosen, General Harper and the remaining Secret Service agents, (besides the one that arrived with him) had been infected. Dr. Richards had the door to the hall, leading to the President’s living quarters, locked and a large, heavy decorative cha
ir pushed up against the door. He told Montgomery that it wouldn’t be safe to open it, but Montgomery insisted on seeing the bodies of the dead. Dr. Richards protested, as well as Montgomery’s own wife. Being the stubborn and pompous man he is,  Montgomery stepped into the security office, located the correct switch and ordered his escort to move the chair and investigate the hall, anyway.

Agent Scott put his ear to the door
, he heard nothing. He quietly turned the knob and opening the door slowly; he peeked in to see what was beyond. Seeing nothing, he opened the door wider, stepped inside the hall and disappeared. Montgomery straightened his jacket and pushed his wife, Cassie to the side. He looked at Dr. Richards with triumph as he stepped out of the office intending to follow his escort. As he neared the door to step in, quick, heavy footsteps were heard and Agent Scott burst through the door, slammed it shut and leaned against it. The breeze that the motion of the door created reeked of vomit, defecation and death. Agent Scott coughed and wheezed violently when he was finally able to take a breath. Suddenly, the wails of the dead could be heard as clearly as if they were standing in their face. They began pounding and shoving on the door, one of them smart enough to turn the knob.

“They’re going to get out of there!” Dr. Richards told them as he backed up into the security room. The dead were slamming against the door and becoming more excited at the sound of voices and the smell of living flesh.
Agent Scott’s body jumped forward and back against the door with each shove, and finally realizing that he would be the first attacked, put his weapon to his head and pulled the trigger. The dead pushed through the door before Scott’s body could hit the floor. Montgomery was frozen in place and only moved to shove his terrified wife into the pack of dead in front of them, then turned and followed Dr. Richards into the small security room.

Staring at Montgomery in disbelief, Dr. Richards had wanted to shove him back out there with the dead, just as he did to his own wife; but he was not a murderer. He was a healer, and no matter how fiercely he hated the man, he would not be the cause of his death. So, he would remain trapped inside the room, with this horrid man, while the dead outside of it, looked in on them.

Several hours after later, they had watched as Cassie arose from the dead. As horrified as he was by the sight, it was Dr. Richards’ nature to watch and learn. He noted the confused look on her face when she pushed herself up off of the floor, and the look of enthrallment she had shown when she lay her inhumanly wide, dead eyes on Montgomery. He also heard the short, high-pitched screech that escaped Montgomery’s throat at the sight of this. Cassie’s face was still beautiful, though now a pale blue/grey and surprisingly intact, none of them had bitten into her skull. Her dress hung in tatters on her body and her neck, legs, arms and torso had been bitten mercilessly, a small section of her intestines bulged through one of the wounds on her stomach. The blood and other bodily fluids that had puddled around her corpse covered the front of her entirely.

She was one of the dead that taunted them. She looked in through the small, one inch thick window centered in the door from time to time, and always kept her creamy, white eyes on Montgomery. She never once looked at Richards. Other times, she stood in front of the door and tilted her head, so they could see only her eyes, as she peered at Montgomery through the even thicker, reinforced glass that ran down the left side of the door, following his every movement.
And she looked at him, like she knew what he had done.

Of course, he could’ve opened the doors, releasing them out into the compound, giving Richards and Montgomery a chance to escape. But where would they escape to?  That space needed to be kept safe until O’Dey returned with the key. If not, then no one would be safe, ever.

   
Chapter One

October 3
rd
, 2014

12:34 A.M.

I’m not really sure how I should start this out; I’ve never been much of a writer. Since I have only two bullets left, which are reserved for use in the very near future, I might as well start from the beginning of the events that led us here. It will give me something to occupy my mind, sort of detach me from the situation at hand so I can better cope. Someone has got to leave of record of these things; I guess it will be me. Not that I believe that there will be anyone left to read it, I just think that if I put it down on paper that it will help me to realize that I will not be committing murder and suicide. I will be showing us a great act of mercy.

Never in a million years would I have ever thought
that I would have to kill him. I’m not going to kill him because of arguments, or money, or infidelity. You know… the normal reasons spouses usually kill each other over. I am going to kill him because, he has been bitten. 

Bitten?
By what?

A zombie.

A what?

I said zombie.

Zombie!? Awwwe, nooo waaay, Dude!

Yes, way.

He’s been bitten by a rot faced, shit kicking zombie. I know… I can hardly believe it myself. I have accepted, (for the most part) that Evan is going to become a zombie and try to eat me. I don’t know when. I know that in the movies it only takes a few minutes for them to turn after being bitten. I guess it would have to since they need to fit all that action into one hundred and twenty minute shows. Not now, though.

In the real world, the virus that has invaded our country, could take up to three days. That’s a good thi
ng; it gives you a little time. It has now been twenty-seven hours since it happened. His breathing is becoming shallow now, so I may have just a few minutes, possibly a few hours. I will go on as long as I can. I will begin by telling you a little bit about us.

My name is Jillian Drake and I am here with my husband Evan. We are both 37 years old. We wer
e living in Ft. Myers, Florida. I have waist length wavy auburn hair, blue eyes, a straight nose, and a little gap between my two front teeth. I like to think it’s my trademark. I’m a little chunky, I haven’t always been.  Pleasingly plump is what I call it, though I have lost quite a bit in light of the past few week’s events. (Too bad it took a crisis to get me to lose 20 pounds). Evan used to tell me that I looked like (with my mouth shut) the beautiful actress Rachel Weisz (who I’m guessing is not so pretty anymore). I didn’t agree, but I’ll gladly take it.

I met my husband while I was working in a diner. He walked in the door with the most amazingly beautiful bright green eyes, and dark brown hair that is just half a shade from being black. He was wearing a white T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, blue jeans that fit him very well and work boots. In my book, there isn’t anything in the world a man can wear that makes him hotter than that. Whew!
I swear I couldn’t concentrate! I botched every order I took except for his. I couldn’t keep my eyes off his mouth, perfectly plump, beautifully shaped lips that are a natural shade of purple. He caught me looking a couple times and I was only slightly embarrassed, I wanted him to see me looking. It was definitely lust at first sight. We dated for a few months before we got married, barefoot on the beach.

It was just the two of us and Reverend Hostetler, the cute little old Amish preacher that performed the ceremony. It was perfect. Evan did get a little impatient with the longwinded speech the Reverend was giving about marriage and as soon as he paused, Evan interrupted and said as sweetly as possible, “Can I kiss my bride now?” and the preacher said “No, I’m not finished yet.” We all laughed at this and finished the ceremony.

We spent the next two days and nights in a beachfront room at the Island Pier Hotel.  In the evening we pulled our chairs down on the sand and kicked back with our beers in hand, without a word we watched the sun go down while we listened to the sounds of the Gulf. It was definitely a Corona moment. We’ve been pretty much inseparable ever since, we have never spent a night apart. That was seven years ago. I know - I know. It’s the shortest love story you have ever heard. There’s no time for an epic romance novel, or the steamy erotic tale it would be if I included the juicy bits. So now, I will get to the point.

I am guilty of being addicted to Resident Evil games, zombie movies, shows, and books. I had seen Return of the Living Dead when I was ten and it scared the shit out of me, but I knew it was only make believe so I became a
little bit of a zombie fanatic. Even though I was so fascinated by zombies, they went on the back burner for a little while after I read ‘Interview with a Vampire’.

I fell in love with Lestat, as did everyone else on the planet. It was all about vampires after that. I wanted to be one so bad; I really wish I could be one right now. I would make Evan my immortal companion before the Infection set in enough to ravage his body and transform him into a being that I used to love to be frightened of. Yes, it is a fantasy world I sometimes live in. Evan used to tell me so all the time.
Anyway, all the time that I was mostly into vampires, I still loved playing any zombie killing game I could play, as long as it had a good story line.

I could live through the terror with Leon or Claire while playing Resident Evil, I could endure the attacks of the twitchy nurses and their
giant syringes in Silent Hill. It was okay because, I was only playing a game. It’s not a game now.

There are no puzzles to solve, no pieces of medallions to find, so I can use them to open the big door at the end of the hall. No cryptic message leading me closer to a lab holding the cure, and no little green healing pla
nts around every other corner. There is also no option to restart.

If there were I would’ve hit that button a thousand and one
times. BUT, there is most definitely a big, bloody YOU ARE DEAD.