Least Likely To Survive (22 page)

“Look,” I started slowly, trying to figure out the best way to vocalize my thoughts without exploding again.  “I get it, I get that the infected are the enemy, and it’s us or them, but putting assault weapons in the hands of children?  What the fuck is next?  Is this what we’ve become?  If so, I don’t want any part of it.  Maybe I’m being childish and naïve, or whatever, but this is not my war, and I refuse to become just another soldier in someone else’s battle.”  I had started out calmly enough, but felt the acid creep into my voice by the time I was finished.  I couldn’t really help how I felt.

He turned and looked at me, stubbing the cigarette out into the cement below us.  “I know.  I feel it too.  It’s sick, and I hate it, but don’t take it out on me.  I’m on your side.”  The fire had gone out in his eyes and his whole body screamed compassion and understanding at me.  How could I possibly be mad at that?

My lip started to tremble again, and I felt big, fat alligator tears begin to slide down my cheeks.  At this rate I would dry and crack as apparently every last drop of moisture in my body was going to keep falling from my eyes.  He didn’t say anything else as he lifted his hand and started to wipe away the tear that was mid-fall.

“Rough childhood, huh?”

Sniffle.  “You could say that.”

He smiled at me.  “Fuck, I’ve never met anyone as infuriating and as headstrong as you.  You really don’t give up, do you?”

“I try not to,” I said as I leaned my head into his hand and closed my eyes, savoring the cool feel of his calloused fingers on the heat of my face.

My eyes were still closed, so I didn’t see him lean in until I felt his lips brush mine.  I jumped for a split second out of surprise before my heart started to race.  His lips were so soft I couldn’t help but wonder what brand of Chapstick he wore.  My restraint broke at the contact, and I started to kiss him back with earnest.  I parted my lips, inviting him to do the same.  I could feel the hair on his face scratching against my skin, but damned if I didn’t care.  He opened his mouth with mine; deepening the kiss.  I moaned my pleasure at the feel of his tongue at my lips, as if asking for entrance.  I darted mine out to greet his, and felt the hand not cupping my cheek reach to the back of my head and tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. 
“Fuck, I’m making out with Jack Jones.”
  I wanted to burst out laughing at the absurdity of my thoughts during such a serious moment.

I didn’t have a chance to muse any further, as he started to pull away.  “
Damn
, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean-“

I shushed him with a finger to his mouth.  I didn’t want to hear him apologize, or tell me he didn’t mean to kiss me, and that it was an accident.  My ego just couldn’t handle that; not from him.  Not now.  “It’s okay, I get it,” I said with a smile I didn’t feel, and knew didn’t reach my eyes.

“But-“He started to say, but I shook my head at him, cutting him off once more.  I didn’t want to hear how kissing me was a mistake, and hear him promise it would never happen again.

“I’ll stay one more day,” I began, as I reached down and picked my glasses back up.  “But then I’m gone, with or without the rest of you.”  I left no room for response as I stood and silently walked out the door, into the concession stand, and hopped back over the counter.  I didn’t look back as I turned right and headed down the hall, in the opposite direction of the shooting range.  I also didn’t look back to see if Jack was behind me.

Chapter 14: Eavesdropping.

I didn’t know where I was going; I just kept wandering around aimlessly.  “
Fuck!  I can’t believe I just
did
that!”
  I shook myself at my stupidity as I started walking faster. 
“I kissed Jack!  How the fuck could I be so
stupid!?
”
  I kept mumbling this to myself as I went; turning down one nondescript corridor after another.

We were friends, and now things were going to be weird and uncomfortable and it was probably best if I didn’t take him with me, or the kids for that matter.  That one kiss would be hanging over our heads for the rest of our lives, however short they may be.  It wasn’t a matter of not liking it, but I knew,
I knew
it was a terrible idea that would undoubtedly open doors that were better left locked and sealed.  Hell, the feelings I had for him were better left in a box, padlocked in another box, where they would grow dusty and moldy with time, and be forgotten.  It would be better that way, I was sure of it.  He couldn’t possibly have feelings for me; guys like him just don’t fall for girls like me.  Ever.  It just doesn’t happen.  So I knew that leaving this can of worms open would just invite thoughts of longing and unrequited whatever, and all sorts of things that I just couldn’t handle at the moment.  It’s the fucking apocalypse and raging hormones just weren’t on the agenda.

Lost in my monologue and angst as I was, I had forgotten to pay attention to where I was.  I stopped and looked around, realizing I was back to the first level and it was deserted.  I must’ve been somewhere near the theater we had been in that morning, as the banners swaying above my head looked mildly familiar, what with their sunny disposition, announcing the pride of victories past, but it was lost on me.  I turned another circle, and decided I was good and lost.

“
Fucking perfect
,” I muttered to myself as I headed to the nearest doorway, thinking that locating someone who could put me back on the right path was my best option. 

I grabbed a nondescript door on the left, and slowly pulled the heavy bastard open.  Ducking my head in first, I looked around and found another hallway behind it.  It was a small hall, with a few doors scattered on either side, none of which were labeled or gave any clues as to where I was or where I was going. 

Taking a deep breath, I started down the hall, and inspected each door, trying to figure out which was the best bet.  Out of frustration, I gave up trying to decipher which door would take me somewhere; I grabbed a handle on the left and turned it, slowly pulled the door open.

Sticking my head through, I glanced around and was somewhat surprised to find myself in a dark area which resembled the backstage of the theater.  Just as I was about to give up and pick another door, I heard voices coming from the stage. 

“Good, they can tell me where the fuck I am,” I muttered, pleased with myself and my amazing navigational skills.  I started walking slowly, so as to avoid crashing into anything in the dark, and paused when I got close enough to make out the voices.  I could hear Ian, and a few other people I didn’t recognize, but one did sound an awful lot like the Doctor who had examined me when I got here.

“The experiments are failing and we’re putting everyone here at risk by continuing them!”  I heard Dr. Fields say pleadingly. 

Now this caught my attention, and the busybody in me just couldn’t resist getting a little closer.  I peeked around the curtain to see the Dr., Ian, and a couple of really important-looking military personnel standing around, apparently arguing.  I crouched low behind the curtain, and listened as intently as I could.

“We need to exterminate the subjects and focus on survival,” Dr. Fields continued, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose.

“Absolutely not,” Ian said as he paced to the end of the stage, arms clasped behind his back.  “The recent test results were inconclusive, and that’s enough to warrant further testing.”  He turned around as he finished his sentence and glared death rays back at Dr. Fields.  The two official looking men didn’t say anything in response, just frowned as they studied papers that were laid out over the table.

Dr. Fields’ shoulders hunched in defeat and she removed her glasses, setting them on the table before rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration.  “Ian, it’s dangerous to continue.  We’re putting the lives of every person here at risk by keeping the infected so nearby, even as contained as they are.  And for what?  We’re no closer to figuring out how and why the infected are mutating, or what those mutations will become.  There are simply too many invariables!”  She just about shouted the end as she pounded her fist on the table.

Ian spun around, and I could see his face start to turn red as he yelled right back.  “
Too many invariables?!
  Group Two mutated almost instantly when exposed to serum #7, which to me says the answers aren’t far.”  His chest was heaving in his anger at this point, I vaguely wondered if his head would explode.  One of the men at the table finally cleared his throat.

“I agree that the recent findings warrant more exploration, and think we should continue.  We need to know what is happening to those people so we can figure out how best to defend against them.”  The apparent General kept an even and reasonable tone throughout, and I couldn’t fault his logic.  Even ‘The Art of War’ agreed that you should always know your enemy.

I watched as Dr. Fields sunk lower in her chair, accepting that she had been outvoted.  “Fine, but at least exterminate the failed subjects.  Leaving them alive will only increase the odds of a breakout.”  Her chair made an awful screeching sound as she pushed it back, rising to her feet.  Without a word, she walked to the stairs at the end of the stage and started for the other end of the auditorium.  Just as she reached the door, she stopped and turned back.  “And I absolutely refuse to participate in experimenting on the uninfected.  Those people are innocent, and deserve the chance to survive this, just like the rest of us.”  With that, she opened the door and walked out of the theater.

My heart skipped a few beats at her words.  They were planning to experiment on
us?!
  What the fuck had we walked into here?!  I turned my focus back to Ian and the Generals, but they were speaking so quietly now, I had to fight to make out any words.

“If Fields can’t see the importance of what we are trying to do here, then she is against us, and should be watched,” Ian said resolutely as he nodded at the men before silently making his exit.  The two men also stood up, and followed him towards the door.  I could see their lips moving, but as they got further away, couldn’t make out any more words.  I waited in my hiding spot until I was sure the coast was clear before creeping over to the table, where they had left a small stack of papers.

Picking up a few, I skimmed them for clues as to what it was we were truly up against.  I shuffled through them, but didn’t really understand what I was seeing.  It looked like lab results; full of numbers and percentages, and other language I wasn’t privy too.  I got to the bottom of the stack and the word ‘Memo’ caught my eye.

‘Results from test 12 with Group Four are inconclusive.  The infected seem to be growing stronger, and their ability to reason is growing.  After being injected with serum #7, they seem to be regaining basic intelligence, as subject 67 was able to figure out the locking mechanism on its restraint.

We will continue with our testing, and look forward to any thoughts or findings you may have.’

Dr.  Ian Kowalcyck

Developmental Studies Administrator, NSEC Industries.

I let the paper flutter back to the table.  I
fucking knew
they were mutating!  I couldn’t wait to tell Jack what I had seen and heard, and of course impart a big fat ‘I told you so’, but before I could continue congratulating myself, the implications of what they had said sunk in.  They were going to run experiments on non-zombies?  Why would they do that?  And what exactly were people mutating into anyway?

I had lots of questions, but no real way to find the answers I needed.  I did know that it wasn’t wise to stick around and become a mouse in a cage for their sick amusement.  No, it was time to hit the road, and now there was no way I could leave Jack or the kids behind.

I had been backing away from the table, my thoughts a jumbled mess rattling around my skull and the red pings of alarms were at an uncomfortable decibel in my mind.  I turned and ran back through the dark backstage towards the door I had come through as fast as my flip flops would carry me.

I fucking knew these damn shoes were going to be a bad idea, and I was surely bemoaning them as they caught in every crevice between me and the door, daring me to trip and fall.  I finally reached it and throwing it open, ran back into the little hallway and headed for the door that had started it all in the first place.  Once I reached it, I pulled the heavy-assed door open as fast as I could, and threw myself back out into the cheerful corridor; banners still waving at me as I passed.  I was moving so fast, I didn’t see Ian until it was too late.

“
Ms. Thompson
, what are you doing down here?”  I screeched to a stop a few feet in front of him, as he had stepped into my path and we had been on a direct collision course.  I had to wait a few seconds to catch my breath and come up with a believable lie before I could answer.

“Jack and I got into a fight, and I was trying to find the laundry room and somehow ended up here.  Could you please tell me how to get to the laundry room?”  I slathered on as much innocent womanly wiles as possible, stopping just short of batting my eyelashes.  I just hope I came across as helpless and maybe even a little dumb.  When in doubt: Play dumb.