Charles Orangetree

DIARY OF THE LAST SEED

Vestige 1

This is for my Wife and my boys for all their support.

And for all the Zombie/post-Apocalyptic fans out there. The End is Near…. be prepared!!!!

PROLOGUE

The raindrops felt like small pebbles as they poured down on her face, preventing her from seeing clearly. Emma did not know how much longer she could hold the rusty metal bar. Cars were still parked on both sides of the collapsed bridge, while others dangled off it across from her. Emma saw a couple of the cars impaled by the same metal bars that she was now clinging to.

Although the rain made the bar slick, Emma knew she had to deal with it. The bar was the only thing keeping her alive. Emma knew that she needed to be strong and put all her efforts and strength into holding onto it.

The rain prevented her from smelling the crawler’s rotten flesh, but Emma could not avoid being in the path of the decomposing fluids that dripped down from every part of their bodies. She gathered strength from deep down to keep herself from vomiting as the mix of rain, blood, and flesh from the crawler’s, dripped down on her face. Emma started to feel like gagging; the texture of the fluids on her face was the most disgusting thing she had ever felt in her life, but she knew that any sound or movement could be her last.

The crawlers were standing right above her, inches from her head. The only reason they could not smell her was due to the rain. Emma thought about climbing up and somehow fighting her way through, but she didn’t have any strength left to fight. She barely had enough to hold onto the metal bar. It seemed like an eternity, but she had only been hanging for a few minutes. Her strength was rapidly fading away.

Food was not easy to find, and it been almost day and half since the last time she ate. She never saw herself as a quitter, but this time was different. She was pushing herself as she had never done before. Surviving the end of civilization was exhausting, and fighting every day for food and shelter was worse. Emma knew she was lucky to be alive. She had devoted friends to be grateful for, and she was not going to let them down. She tried to gather some strength to wipe her face on her shoulder, but she was too exhausted. She looked up again and saw the reflection of a crawler on the window of a dangling car.

The crawler seemed like it was standing still, unable to see her, but Emma could see its reflection. It was a female crawler. She was still clinging to whatever pieces of humanity she had left, smelling, scratching its nails on the pavement, and letting out an unholy scream that sent Emma’s nerves into a complete frenzy. Emma noticed her long, dark hair dangling down in ragged clumps. The crawler’s clothes were torn, exposing one of the crawler’s breasts, though now it was no more than shredded skin dangling from her chest. The crawler moved on in a slow, shoveled pace. Emma knew this because they could no longer walk like a person; they did not have the will or capacity. They had degenerated to beast’s mode, searching for prey. This was their only primal instinct. The crawlers could smell any uninfected humans, and some of them were still able to use their eyes to track them down. Emma was glad the one on the bridge did not have eyes. The rain was keeping her concealed. If it had not been for the local town mayor investing in solar powered streetlights, she would be in complete darkness. She was relieved that she had some light illuminating on her. There was one downside to this though, crawlers, just like flies, were attracted to light, or at least they always stayed closed to it. At this moment, all she could do was concentrate on not letting go of the bar.

Unfortunately, she could not see what was below her, or how high she was from the ground. All she could see was darkness beneath her, a never-ending sea of shadows that she would soon be drowning in if she let go. Her thoughts strayed, if she had been stronger or faster she would have avoided the crawlers, maybe she could have even saved her family. But all of that was in the past now, she needed to focus on the present and focus on the task at hand…holding on for her life.

“This is some freaking bullshit!” she yelled as tears ran down her face. “I know you are out there, stop hiding in the fucking shadows and do something. You know, you will regret this for the rest of your miserable life. I know you are scared, but I am too, and right now I need your help.” The crawlers could hear her, but couldn’t pinpoint her location. They were roaming side to side on the bridge, one of them even felt down the bridge just at the bar where she was holding on and almost grabbed her. Emma completely ignored it, and kept yelling into the night.

“Since you are not going to do a fucking thing for me, at least answer a question. Why did you tried to kiss me and tell me you loved me? Why, now, are you acting like you don’t even know me?” she asked. Emma was tired. Tired of not getting a response back, and tired of waiting for something, or someone, to save her from her current situation. She wished she had done something different; however, it was too late for that type of thinking.

Emma’s mind was spinning a hundred miles an hour, trying to find a solution, and without realizing it her fingers let go of the metal bar. All she could do was close her eyes and hope that this was all a terrible dream. Images from when it all started filled her head. Flashbacks from those horrible first couple of weeks when she was alone, when her whole family had died, turned into crawlers, and tried to eat her. She could still remember the overwhelming stench of rotting flesh; the air around her had tasted of half-decomposed corpses. Crews of survivors worked at a feverish pace to purge the city of the dead, piles of dead bodies on every city block waited with sightless eyes for their turn on the pyre. Crows and other carrion birds descended on the endless feast of human flesh. She stopped staring at the tangled mass of arms and legs after what seemed an eternity. She could no longer bear the sight. The vision burned behind her eyelids of the young woman, only weeks away from giving birth, who lay nearby with her hands still clutching her swollen belly.

She opened her eyes and arms as if she were welcoming the end of her life, and her body was swallowed by the night…

CHAPTER ONE

Stacy Blackburn

Stacy Blackburn found herself leaning against the window, trying to look down toward the hospital parking lot, but it was impossible for her to see outside due to the winter storm punishing the streets below. Stacy caught her reflection in the window. Noticing her own smile, she rapidly turned her attention to her son’s bed. Who could blame her? In normal circumstances every snow day would bring so much joy to her family. Especially to Stacy’s son. He enjoyed playing in the snow ever since he was a little boy. He would be so happy during the winter months playing in the snow. Stacy’s memories were filled with her son running around, making snowmen, and playing with the family dachshund. She could still remember the first white winter her son had. To her surprise, it had been back in Texas. With a good two inches of snow, it was more than enough to build a snowman between her husband and child. Her son was happy, even though it didn’t last long due to the Texas weather.

The snowman melted within half an hour after construction. Stacy spent a few hours hearing her son grieve over the “dead” snowman. Stacy wished she could go back in time, back to the time when her son was happy and active. She knew that was not possible. All she could do was dream about having her son back and healthy. He had been in a coma for almost two months now and the doctors had not been able to figure out what was wrong with him. Stacy could not bear the sight of the snow anymore, so she slowly walked over to her son’s bed.

Stacy’s hands were shaking and her face was covered with tears, but she managed to set a small cupcake on the table without dropping it. It was her son’s favorite flavor, chocolate. She raised her hand to cover a portion of the cupcake, looked around making sure that no one was nearby, and pulled a lighter out of her pajamas. She slowly lit up the lighter, brought it closer to the cupcake, and lit a single candle in the middle of the cupcake. She leaned close to her son’s ear and whispered, “Happy Birthday, Son.” Stacy grabbed her son’s hand and raised it closer to her chest, finding an empty space for her to sit next to him. She held his hand and leaned forward planting a kiss on his forehead. At least her boy was still alive.

“Mrs.Blackburn?” a man’s voice asked as he entered the room. He was a tall, white gentlemen with black and gray hair; he looked at her through a pair of thick glasses. Stacy turned her attention to the man, but before he could say a word, a nurse approached both of them.

“Excuse me,” she said, referring to Mrs. Blackburn, and discreetly whispered some words to the doctor.

“What is it?” Mrs. Blackburn asked. He didn’t say a word; he simply approached her and put his hand on her shoulder.

Stacy remained seated and held her son’s hand. She knew there was no point to keep asking the same questions over and over. Her son’s condition had not improved in two months, no matter how much the doctor’s would tell her. Deep inside she knew that her son would not get better. She tried to pretend that everything would be fine, that her son would recover and wake up from his comma, but all she had was hope.

She could not stand seeing her son buried in IV’s, monitors, and oxygen hoses. Stacy’s heart broke a little every time she visited him. She still remembered the morning when she went to wake him up so he would not be late for school, but he never woke up. The night prior, before he went to sleep, he had told her how he was not feeling good; he thought he might be getting sick. She didn’t pay too much attention since this wasn’t the first time he’d feigned an illness to get out of school. And he was due to have an exam the next morning. Everything seemed normal to her, nothing out of the ordinary, but all that changed the next day when she tried to wake him and he didn’t respond.

She tried everything to no avail and then she called 911. The paramedics arrived at her home and reached her son’s room. They strapped him to the stretcher and put him into the ambulance. Stacy was so worried, that she forgot to leave a note for her husband. It was Friday morning and she knew her husband was in the middle of lake fishing. He had decided to take Friday off and go fishing with some friends. His cell phone normally didn’t get any signal in the middle of the lake, so he would leave the phone either in the car or at the cabin. She still called him and left a message on his voice-mail. She jumped inside the ambulance and spent all night at the hospital.

Stacy’s husband didn’t show up to the hospital until the next day. He tried to apologized to Stacy about his delay, but there was nothing he could have done. After he finished fishing late Friday night, Stacy’s husband and his friends headed down to the cabin and spent all night drinking. He completely forgot to check his cell phone. If he would have arrived a few hours earlier, he would have had an ear full from Stacy. But she was not angry anymore. Stacy knew she needed to focus her attention on her son. All she could do was hold his hand in hopes that sooner or later he would wake up. Feeling a pressure on her right shoulder, she snapped out of her daydreaming. She looked up and saw the doctor next to her, looking over her son.

“We will figure it out Mrs. Blackburn, he will wake up,” the doctor said.

“I’ve been waiting for him to wake up, or for you guys to figure out what is wrong with him, for about two months now. The world is going to shit out there, and I have to deal with my sick son and a bunch of incompetent doctors and nurses that cannot diagnose him. It’s not fair for me or my family. I am tired of all the excuses you have given me. I have not seen my husband for over two weeks now, and I can’t even give him an update on our son’s condition, because there is none.” She shook her head side to side with tears running down her face. She was exhausted.

The doctor bent down and looked into her eyes. “You need to rest, go home. Spend time with the rest of your family. If there is any change on your son’s condition, I will personally contact you. As a matter of fact, here.” He handed her a small business card with his personal information.

“If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to contact me any time. I normally don’t do this for patients, but I will make an exception for you Mrs. Blackburn. You need to promise me that you are going home to your family.” He kept his hand on her shoulder for comfort.

Stacy didn’t know what to do or say. She got up from where she was seated, nodded to the doctor, and looked at her son.

“I will be back next week.” She lifted her son’s hand to her face, moved the IV out of the way, and kissed it.

“I love you. I love you with all my heart and soul from the moon and back.” Stacy lowered her son’s hand back to the side of the bed. She blew him another kiss and slowly walked toward the door. “Please take good care of my son,” Stacy told the doctor. She left her son’s room in search for the exit door. Walking through the hospital, deep inside her thoughts, Stacy failed to notice all the chaos and sick people that had overpopulated the emergency room. All Stacy wanted was to get away from the hospital for a couple of days and go see the rest of the family. Stacy left the hospital, got into her car, and drove home. That was the last time she would ever see her son.

CHAPTER TWO

Dr. Meacham

“So the disease is airborne?” Dr. Meacham asked. He was standing in a small observation room, looking through a glass window at who he thought was patient zero for a new type of epidemic. Dr. Meacham rested his forehead against the glass wall. He could see his reflection on the glass and noticed the guilt on his face. And who wouldn’t feel guilty when seeing one of his co-workers in that type of predicament? He raised his head and stared into the other side of the glass wall where there was an even smaller room painted all in white. A sealed bio-hazard door was on the left side of the room, and his co-worker strapped to a metal frame bed was on the right. Dr. Whitney was a brilliant, up and coming virologist, now, by a mistake or just pure lousy luck, she lay motionless. Her face was still covered with trails of dried blood running from her nose, ears, and eyes. An open gash from her forehead disappeared under her red hairline. Other wounds were slowly appearing over her entire body.

“If I were a man of God and not a scientist, I’d swear she looks exactly like the exorcist,” Dr. Moore said. Who would debate him? After all, her wounds and behavior could be confused with a possession, or a person suffering from stigmata. The other doctors tried to treat her wounds, but they hadn’t had any luck, it seemed as if the blood was not coagulating. Dr. Meacham knew that the young doctor didn’t have too much longer before she bled to dead. It had been three hours since she started acting weird, and the other doctors had to strap her down to the metal bed.

Dr. Meacham remembered her asking him if she could work during the weekend, since she had family coming in this week. For just a moment, he thought that whatever was happening to her was his fault. He had no idea that this was just the beginning, and that she was not the last person that he would see dying under his authority. Dr. Meacham didn’t pay any attention to Dr. Moore, who was next to him asking him a question.

“Sorry, Dr. Moore, you said something?” “Are we infected as well?” Dr. Moore asked, with disbelief written all over his face. “Maybe,” Dr. Meacham said, “Naaa, it is not possible. If the virus were airborne, that would mean everyone in the building is infected.” “If that were the case, someone else should have been showing symptoms already.” “You are right, Chris,” Dr. Meacham said. He knew that Dr. Moore preferred to be called by his first name, at least by his colleagues.

“What if the virus has different incubation periods, depending on the person who is infected?” “Because the antibodies of each individual are different, maybe that’s why it had taken longer to show in everyone else,” Dr. Meacham said. “If you are right about these, we are in a time bomb and I don’t want to be inside this building went it goes off,” Dr. Moore said.

“Chris, I need you to lock down the building, nobody comes in, and nobody goes out. I will also need you to gather a few more personnel and conduct blood tests on everyone in the building. I need this to happen ASAP. You got it?”

“Yes,” Dr. Moore answered with an attitude. He knew Dr. Meacham was his supervisor, but he didn’t like to be bossed around. He knew this was bigger than him, or anybody else in this building. If, in fact, this was a new virus, and it was airborne, that meant everyone was infected, and it was going to be a terrible day for all. He hoped that Dr. Meacham was wrong and that he was just having a bad day. Dr. Moore could not imagine, or even believe, that a virus, fungus, or whatever it was, could become airborne in a day.

The only possible way would be if the virus had mutated a long time ago and for some reason the incubation period came to a halt. But, these were all theories, speculation his mind was working on. He knew that if anyone could fix this, or find a cure, it would be Dr. Meacham. Dr. Meacham had been working there much longer than he had. Dr. Moore could still see that Dr. Meacham was worried, and that made him a little uncomfortable since he never worried during this type of situations. This time something was different. Something was not right, as if Dr. Meacham had known this would happen. But could he? Dr. Moore thought about it. Dr. Meacham was a little worried about the whole situation, but he was still acting quite calm.

Dr. Moore turned around and looked at him; he was still staring at Dr. Whitney through the glass window. Dr. Whitney had not been working there for long, but she was still part of the team, part of the family. They spent so many hours in the same place that sooner or later they all became family. Dr. Moore knew that was probably the reason why Dr. Meacham was feeling a little down. Seeing one of his fellow co-workers dying in front of his eyes had to be extremely difficult for him. It’s not like having a car accident or being murdered, the person he knows is right in front of him, and he cannot do anything to save her or even prolong her death. Dr. Moore knew Dr. Meacham needed time to think by himself to analyze the situation at hand. Dr. Moore decided not to waste any more time, he slowly opened the door, so not to disturb Dr. Meacham. Dr. Moore exited the room and closed the door behind him.

The sound of the door brought Dr Meacham back to reality. He pulled a chair in front of the glass wall and sat down. He never broke eye contact with his patient. A million thoughts were going through his mind. He didn’t want to let anyone down, but this was something he was not going to be able to fix. He stood up, walked toward the little desk inside the office, and picked up the phone.

“May I speak with Dr. Spranger?” Dr. Meacham asked the receptionist on the other end of his call. “He is currently in a meeting,” the lady on the phone said.“I don’t care if he is in a meeting, or in the bathroom looking at porn, you need to get him on the phone! You need to tell him Dr. Meacham needs to talk to him, and is an emergency! Do it NOW!” Dr. Meacham could tell the lady’s attitude had changed, and she was going to comply to his demand.

“Sir, give me a second,” the lady said. A few minutes passed before he heard a man’s voice through the phone. “How can I help you?” the man said. “I’ve got a situation that is currently unfolding here in my building and I don’t really have a starting point for it. I was wondering if you can review some specimens I have? You know I would never ask for your help unless I really needed it. I understand we are not on the best terms anymore, but I think my situation could also affect you and your people. Let’s leave the past mistakes in the past,” Dr. Meacham said.

“For you to call me and pretty much beg for my help, it must really be some situation you’ve got there. You know I don’t respect you as a person anymore, but I do respect your work and your research. So if you need my help, something really big must be happening. Send me what you’ve got and give me a few hours,” Dr. Spranger said.

“Everything is already in your email; I was going to send it to you even if you had said no,” Dr. Meacham said. “Cocky as always. I’ll reply in a few hours. I’ve got my own share of situations over here,” Dr. Spranger said. “Just do me a favor, when you read my email, please prioritize on the last question, ok?”“No problem” Dr. Spranger said.

CHAPTER THREE

Emma Smith

If Emma would have known about the events that were about to unfold, she would have done things differently the day before. Shit, she would have even gone to bed early, but instead Emma spend all night talking on the phone with Jason. Being grounded didn’t make a difference. Even if Emma’s parents took her cell phone and computer away, she was fine by it. She was prepared for these type of situations. She always had a back-up plan; even her mother said that she was way too mature for her age. Emma always saw them as ignorant, and she prided herself as being the smart rational one of the family.

Emma was glad that Jason had given her a pre-paid cell phone for her to have in case she ever got grounded, which by his calculations, was about every other week. After all, every time Emma was in this type of predicament it was because of him, so in a way he was trying to make it up to her. Emma really didn’t care since the money was not coming out of her pocket. Emma didn’t think about herself as a gold digger or anything like that, but shit, how could she say no to stuff someone else was buying for her? It’s not like Emma was sleeping with anyone in exchange for stuff. Emma knew a few girls in her high school that would do sexual favors for old guys around the neighborhood. Emma even knew about the relationship between Katy Huffman and Mr. Edwards, the math teacher.

Emma saw them going into the math classroom and locking themselves up inside after all of the other students were gone. “I guess you’re stupider than you look, to get a B minus instead of an A after you let that nasty old man doggy hump you for an hour,” Emma remembered telling Katy. It was true, Emma always thought about Mr. Edwards as a disgusting old man, already in his forties, and still trying to pick up young girls. “Only stupid girls would fall for that bullshit,” Emma said. Emma never mentioned a word to anyone about the thing she had seen.

She had the tendency to say what she needed to say to that person’s face and no one else’s. That was one of the things Jason hated about her, and was trying so hard to change, but she was too stubborn to listen to him or change on her own. Maybe one day she would change, but not now. She didn’t want to be like her mother, always following her dad around and doing everything he said, like sheep following direction from a Labrador. Emma hated how her mother was so simple minded, always repeating and reassuring everything her dad said. Emma used to call her “K.A.E or Kiss Ass Echo.” Her mother never knew the meaning of it, but she knew it was not pleasant. Emma found it so annoying. It was funny when she was little but not now.

But for Emma everything she knew was about to change forever, and today was the day. The day that her whole life would alter, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

The banging noise was so loud it echoed through Emma’s room. Scared to her bones, Emma woke up feeling her heart beating like a Latin conga. She looked around her room making sure none of her stuff had fallen from her dresser. For a moment she thought that her middle school run & track trophy had fell. The first trophy she had ever won in her life, well, at least the only first place trophy she had won. The dresser was the only piece of furniture holding her life achievements, from a time when she was dedicated to school and her studies.

The rest of the walls in her room were covered with emo looking stuffed animals and Japanese animation posters. Her mom and dad didn’t even know what all posters were about, and didn’t pay too much attention to them. Emma grabbed her pillow, laid back down, and covered her face. She was trying to go back to sleep. But the sun was already out and the headboard of her bed was laying against the window, even though her mother didn’t like it. She was a teenager, a rebel to society, and a wanna be adult.

Her mom just didn’t like it because she was afraid that someone would reach through the window and grab her hair. Emma laughed at her mom every time she heard her mom’s worries. Her mom usually got mad and walked out of Emma’s room, yelling how disrespectful and inconsiderate she was. What her mom didn’t know was that there was a reason why Emma’s bed was setup that way. They both had grown apart soon after Emma started high school. Due to that and other family issues, neither of them were brave enough to talk to each other. Her mom didn’t even know that she had a boyfriend. The only reason Emma had her bed against the window was because it was easier for her to hear when her boyfriend threw rocks at the window, letting her know that he was there to help her sneak out.

The banging noise echoed through her room again. Who in the world is making so much noise this early? she thought. Looking out her window to the backyard, she saw her dad. He was building another of his weekend projects. “Why is he up so early building all that crap, it’s not like he is ever going too finished it”. She thought. She was right, her dad had the tendency of starting a project every other weekend, but never finishing it. Like the wooden rocking chair he started last month. After not being able to bend the bottom legs of the chair to make it rock back and forth, he quit. Another piece for his “hoarding collection.” A few times she thought about calling that TV show where they do interventions on hoarders, she always thought her dad fit the profile.

“Well I’m already up”, she thought. She headed down the stairs and into the kitchen to see what her mom had made for breakfast. Emma noticed the missing smell of pancakes, and remembered that her mom was going out. For a moment, she thought her dad may have made breakfast, but then again, he usually didn’t worry about anybody else in the house. “He should have at least made some scramble eggs and toast, but instead he went straight outside. If he was going to spend all day in the backyard, at least some food would have been nice.” She thought.

“Unbelievable, seems like nobody cares about me in this family, the only one that really gets me is Jason. I wish he could spend the night”. She knew better, though. If her mom ever found a guy in her room — she was a dead girl, and Jason would probably be cut in little pieces and fed to the fishes. She had a vivid imagination about possible murder scenarios ever since her mom made her watch a few serial killer movies. She remembered her Dad always kidding around about her mom looking for a way to get rid of him and collecting the life insurance.

He always joked about how she was getting the right tips on how to murder someone. Emma still remembered her mom saying that if anyone ever hurt her children, she will kill them in a slow painful way. That used to creep her out and make her think that she was adopted. But she didn’t have any proof. It didn’t help that the three of them were so different, with a somewhat psychotic mom and a lazy father. She wanted to leave the house, run away, but she was only sixteen years old. She knew better than trying to run away. And besides that, where would she go? To her teenage boyfriend, who still lived with his parents? A friend? Nope, she had seen too many movies where the girls got kidnapped and forced into prostitution. Well she was kind of forced to watch those types of movies, but not according to her mother. Though, it was really convenient for her mom to start watching the movies right after Emma got home from school. It also didn’t help that her mom was always blaming the victims of all the movies. “If they would have listened to their parents, nothing would have ever happened,” her mom used to say. Even as a rebel, the movies had done their job and prevented her from leaving the house. She always compared it to an invisible force field. “Two more years until I turn 18, and I can leave this house, find me an apartment somewhere, and not have to worry about all the nagging of my family”.

Emma felt the vibration in her pocket. She had forgot about the cellphone Jason had gave her, in case of an emergency. Well more like “If you get grounded you can use the phone to call me.” After a few seconds, she realized what it was. She took a look around ensuring her Dad was still in the backyard, quickly ran upstairs to her room and lock the door.

“About time, so when are you stopping by? I haven’t seen you for about a week,” Jason said over the phone. “Well, it is your own fault. I told you not to show up at my house and you did anyway,” Emma replied. “Well, if it wouldn’t have been for your Dad, I would have scored with you,” Jason said. All he could think was how hot Emma looked in her bikini the last time they ditched school and went to the lake. Too bad they had some friends with them and he couldn’t make a move on her. They had been dating for a few months now, but Emma hadn’t even let him grab her butt. He always thought she was such a tease, and since he had a one hundred dollar bet with his friends, he needed to get her in bed. All he could do now was smile, and think about how to get her there.

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” Emma said. Even though she was on the other side of the phone, she knew him well enough to know he always had that smirk on his face when he talked about anything related to sex.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Jason replied, letting out a quick laugh. “Well you should know,” she said. Emma knew he would try anything to get her to sleep with him. She came really close a couple of weeks back, but her dad came home early. He had told her he was going fishing.

Since he retired a year ago — more like medical discharge from the army — all he had been doing is milking the Veteran Affairs for a stupid injury he incurred in one of his unit training exercises. Emma’s dad spent most of his time fishing or playing golf with his buddies. But for some reason that day he returned early and caught Jason in Emma’s room. Emma was glad Jason was able to jump out of the window and escape the rage of her dad. Even if his back had an injury, he was still a good runner. But he was too old to be jumping out of the window to chase after Jason. He sure let her have it afterward. He yelled at her for almost two hours.

Afterward, she was grounded, and Jason didn’t even apologize for getting her into trouble. It had been his idea to go back to Emma’s house. She had no plans on letting Jason anywhere near her anymore. Since she’d been grounded every time she talked with Jason on the phone, she liked to mess around with him. Emma didn’t care anymore if Jason thought of her as a tease, it was fine by her, she wasn’t putting out anyway.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jason said.“You should not think of my body as Temple, you should think of it more like an amusement park,” Emma said.

Jason stayed quiet for a second, not knowing if to laugh or be concerned about Emma’s comments. He always thought that she was a virgin or that she had never been with anybody else, but he could be wrong. “Did a cat bite your tongue off, don’t be so shy now,” Emma said. “Whatever, so are you coming or what?” “You know, I’ll have to pass on your invitation, they already took my driving privileges for two weeks because of you. I don’t want my driving gone for a whole month,” Emma said.

“Whatever,” Jason replied and then hung up.“Well screw you too,” Emma said, turning off the phone and put it back in her pocket. Emma was trying to persuade her dad to lift her punishment. Emma been doing the same thing for the past couple of days. She’d been waking up, getting dressed, and trying to stalk her dad to see if he would let her go out. But for the past few days, she had failed miserably and instead of letting her off the hook, her dad had gotten madder and sent her back to her room. Emma walked down the stairs and into the kitchen.

She opened the refrigerator door and grabbed the last apple in sight. She headed out the backdoor into the backyard. All the hammering had stopped, and her dad was nowhere in sight. Emma walked inside her dad’s tool shack. It was the only project her dad had ever finished. The tool shack was a decent twelve by twelve wooden shack. She stepped inside and looked around but couldn’t see her dad. Emma knew he had to be out there because he would never leave his tools outside.

“Dad, hello!” Emma yelled. She didn’t get any response, so she continued to walk around the backyard. She was about to go back inside the house when she heard a noise coming from the back of the tool shack. Emma slowly walked toward the back of the shack. When she turned the corner, she saw her dad’s boots on the floor. “Dad!” Emma yelled. Her dad’s body was twitching as if he was having a seizure, but Emma knew that couldn’t be because he had never had such a condition.

She left him there and ran inside the house to call 911. After a couple of rings, a woman’s voice answered, she sounded in her late 30’s early 40s, and asked what the emergency was. Emma explained the reason for the call and the woman told Emma to turn her dad on his side and let him rest to help prevent shock. However, she would not be able to send any emergency vehicles to her house because all the emergency services were busy.

“What do you mean they’re busy? I am not a freaking doctor; you guys need to send one over here!” Emma yelled on the phone. The female voice on the phone started crying, which confused Emma. “What is wrong, why the heck are you crying?” Emma said. The voice remained quiet for a second or two.

“You have not watched the news? Your dad is not the only one. Hope God gives you strength,” the female voice said and suddenly the dial tone filled Emma’s ear. The woman had hung up. She wanted to turn on the TV, but she needed to go check on her dad. She didn’t know what the lady was talking about. Why would she say such a thing to a complete stranger, and more importantly, why did she hang up the phone on an emergency? Emma tried to call 911 again, but this time all she got was the busy tone. She dropped the phone and ran outside to check on her dad. To her surprise, he was no longer where she left him.

“Dad!” Emma yelled. After not getting a response, and not seeing her father anywhere around the backyard, she ran inside the house and up the stairs. Emma got to her room and pulled the cell phone from under her mattress. She turned on the phone and tried calling Jason, but after a few unanswered rings she hung up and tried calling her mom. The phone continued to ring for a few more seconds, until she heard her mom’s voice.

“Hello?” Her mom said.

“It’s Emma, something happened to Dad. He was lying on the floor twitching, and I tried to call 911, but they are not coming, and now dad disappeared,” Emma said.

“You need to get out of the house, NOW!!” Emma’s mom yelled. “Is not safe inside the house, I need you to get in your car, and come to Grams!” Emma didn’t know what was wrong with her mom, and wondered why she didn’t even ask for her Dad. It seemed like she already knew what happened, but that was impossible since her mom was at her grams house. Could her mom be responsible for what happened to her dad? Emma thought, then shook her head. “Naaa,” Emma murmured.

Emma forgot to ask her mom where she had hid the car keys. Since Emma had been grounded for the past two weeks, her parents had hid the keys in case Emma tried to go out. But she didn’t have time call again, her mom sounded frantic on the phone. Emma went into her parents’ bedroom looking for the keys. She always loved how her mom had set up the room with every single piece of furniture on black and white, even the pictures above their parent’s bed displayed abstract paintings in black and white. Emma opened her mom’s dresser drawers but couldn’t find anything, then she remembered the small black leather box where her dad kept all his watches. He used to collect watches. Emma remembered her dad showing her the very first watch he bought with his own money. Emma used to laugh because it was missing the bands, the battery was dead, and because her dad was so cheap and lazy, he’d rather by a new watch than replace the battery on the old one.

Emma opened the box, and to her surprise, the keys were there. She didn’t waste any time. She grabbed the keys and headed outside the room. She ran down the hallway and to the top of the stairs. She was about to go down, but she noticed a shadow coming from the dining room. “Hello?” Emma said, though wishing she hadn’t asked, but it was too late now. Whoever was downstairs had already heard her and was coming. She remained still, waiting to see who it was. “Dad? “Emma said.

She was strong girl but this was too much for her to handle, her eyes got watery and she screamed toward the thing downstairs. It was not her dad anymore, and she knew it. Emma’s dad approached the bottom of the stairs, drooling blood from his mouth, eyes, and ears. He crawled up the first couple of steps and let out scream that echoed through the house. Emma screamed again, and turned to her right noticing the large flowerpot her mom bough a few weeks ago. She grabbed it, picked it up as high as she could, and sent it flying down the stairs. Emma didn’t wait to see if the pot hit her target or not. She sprinted as fast as she could to her room. Emma closed the door and jumped on her bed. She opened the window and started to crawl out of it to freedom when she heard a hard banging on her door. Emma had seen too many movies to stay there like a fool, waiting to be killed. She spent no time in getting all the way down to the backyard. She had been practicing escaping every other night to be with Jason, so this time was no different except that if she had been keeping record of how fast she climbed down, today she would have beat every other time.

Emma ran toward the driveway, unlocked the car, and got in. For a moment, she felt dumb because she couldn’t find the ignition. She took a deep breath, started the car, and headed toward her grandma’s house. She could hear ambulances and police sirens in the distance, but nothing was in sight. Emma didn’t pay attention to anything on the road. She was glad when she hit I44. Emma knew she had about an hours drive to her grandma’s house. She was surprised to see

the empty highway in front of her. She pushed the gas a little harder, wanting to reach her grandma’s house as soon as she could. “Why the hell am I rushing to Mom, if she is not even worried enough to call me again?” Emma thought.

She had forgotten that the phone she used was Jason’s cell phone, not the one her parent’s had bought her last year. She got mad just thinking about it, and threw the phone on the passenger seat. Emma hit the gas and sped up as fast as her car would go. She was confident of her driving skills, like every other teenager in the world. She felt proud of herself for being so independent. She wondered whatever happened to Jason and then thought of him as another douche bag that would have dragged her down. She was daydreaming and didn’t notice the cell phone was ringing.

When she realized the cell phone was ringing, she looked at the passenger seat and reached for it. She tried to look at the display screen to see who was calling, but something on the road caught her attention. There was a car parked in the middle of the highway. She dropped the phone and grabbed the steering wheel with both hands. She released the gas pedal and hit the brakes and her car zig-zagged to the right. She was able to avoid a head-on collision but the driver side hit the parked car, sending her straight to the safety rail. She knew it was too late to avoid the rail so she braced for the worse, closed her eyes, and apologized to her mom and dad. She was about to die, and she’d never had the time to say she was sorry for everything she had done. Emma opened her eyes and everything slowed down, but she still couldn’t do anything to stop what it was coming to her. She couldn’t believe how big of a bitch she had been to her family, and even that douche bag Jason. But now that she was facing death, she didn’t have any other option than to tell them that she was sorry.

She knew nobody was going to hear her apologies, and nobody was going to tell her not to worry about it. She wanted to die with a clean conscious, after all, she wouldn’t have to worry about her family any more, and whatever was happening out there with her dad and everyone else was no longer her problem. Finally she was free, a way out of the madness in her family and this world. The impact of the car sent Emma’s forehead straight to the steering wheel, knocking her out in an instant, the car continued to spin until it came to a halt at the bottom of the ditch.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dr. Moore

Outside the room, Dr. Moore came across small crowd of co-workers waiting for some answers. Dr. Moore didn’t hesitate. He got everyone up to speed, and informed them how crucial it was to collect everyone’s blood samples and analyze them. He was able to gather enough personnel to split them into two groups, those that drew blood and those that would take care of the lab work.

A few hours had passed and all the employees had been tested. About 90 percent of them were gathered in the lobby, the rest were in the lower levels of the building helping Dr. Meacham and Dr. Moore with all the lab work.

“All of them, all of us, are infected, how is this even possible?” Meacham said, striking the metal desk where all the blood samples sat with his fist. He looked across the desk toward Dr. Moore. Before he could say another word, Dr. Moore interrupted him with another question

“What you want us to do?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t know. What happens if we are the only ones infected? What if the disease originated from within these walls? If that is the case, I don’t want to expose my family to THAT!!!” He gestured to Dr. Whitney.

“We are going to remain in lock down while we keep conducting more tests,” Dr. Meacham said. It really didn’t bother Dr. Moore since lock downs were not that rare. After all, they worked in the CDC, where the most deadly viruses were stored. Though, this time was for real, this time it could affect the rest of human kind.

“The main focus now is to figure out how the disease works, and how it affects the human body. We need to work together and find what triggered it. Chris, can you tell everyone that quarantine procedures will remain in effect until further notice, and nobody is allowed to call home? Please tell security to collect all cell phones. Thanks,” Dr. Meacham said.

Dr. Meacham thought a moment about his ex-wife, and then of his son. He felt like a terrible father. He knew it was his fault that his marriage had gone down the drain. He spent most of his time working, and didn’t spend time with his wife or kid. He remembered his wife telling him about his son trying to show him a cool article about zombies, but he was too involved with his work, and had paid no attention to his son. Dr. Meacham had spent so much time putting work first and family second, it had taken a toll on his marriage, and father/son relationship.

That’s why his wife left him a year ago. He felt betrayed by her, but the feeling didn’t last long, because he went right back to work. She kept custody of their son during the week, and he only saw him on the weekends. Even after the divorce and custody arrangement, he didn’t comply with his paternal duties since he had to work during the weekends. He was so inside of his own thoughts, he didn’t notice how vulnerable he looked in front of his fellow employees. Everyone in the room shifted their attention from Dr. Whitney to him, they were all trying to figure out what was going through his mind.

“Did he figure it out?” someone whispered from the group.

All his subordinates, including Dr. Moore, were staring at him, but he was lost inside his mind. Dr. Meacham couldn’t figure out what caused it. The problem was he was not sure how long the incubation period would last. He didn’t even knew how long Dr. Whitney was infected before she started showing symptoms earlier that morning.

According to all the video footage and records his subordinates had gathered, there was no evidence Dr. Whitney was infected last week. And since nobody else had shown symptoms, it was safe to assume that everyone who was infected, got infected today. Maybe he could stop the progression and symptoms, but he needed to act fast. He knew that according to the surveillance videos, Dr. Whitney started having seizures, convulsing, bleeding, and looking like the exorcist within minutes from her first seizure. Dr. Meacham ignored all the eyes on him and walked toward the glass window, silence filled the room. The inhale and exhale of everyone in the room was the only sound, patient “zero” had died an hour ago. He couldn’t stop staring at her hollow eyes, now with dried blood running down her face. He couldn’t save her like he couldn’t save his marriage. He’d been so involved in his thoughts, that he didn’t hear the phone ringing behind him.

Dr. Moore picked up the phone, and tried to get Dr. Meacham’s attention. “Dr. Meacham is for you. Dr. Meacham, you have a phone call.”

Dr. Meacham turned around, still inside his own mind, and walked toward the desk where the phone was located. Dr. Moore handed over the phone. All eyes in the room were glued to him, and he tried to avoid them, focusing his attention to the phone mic.

“Hello, this is Dr. Meacham.” He raised his head and glanced at Dr. Moore, at that moment he knew the world would never be the same, and no one was going to be able to stop the madness that was coming.

Dr. Moore was dying to know who was on the phone, and why they didn’t want to talk to him or anyone else, they only asked for Dr. Meacham. Who could it be? He knew that whatever they told him was not good news.

“I understand, thank you for calling.”

Dr. Meacham hung up the phone, not even bothering to put it down the right way. He pushed his way out of the crowded office, opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Dr. Moore followed him, closing the door behind him.

“What happened, who was that on the phone?” Dr. Moore asked, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him back. Dr. Meacham turned around with watery eyes. “Terminate the lock down and go home, send everyone home,” Dr. Meacham told him. “What are you talking about? Tell me,” Dr. Moore asked with a firm voice.

All Dr. Meacham could do was to keep walking toward the elevator. “I am going to see my family and play with my son, you should do the same,” Dr. Meacham said, waving his hand and saying goodbye. He got into the elevator and disappeared behind the metal doors.

Dr. Moore stared at the elevator doors for a second, then turned around and went back into the office. He pointed at Dr. Barkley, “I need to know who called, who was on the phone?”

“Dr. Moore, Dr. Meacham never hung up the phone,” Dr. Barkley handed over the phone speaker to Dr. Moore.

“Hello, this is Dr. Moore, who is this?”

A brief silence through the phone speaker, made him a little nervous.

“Where is Dr. Meacham?”

“He left, what did you say to him and who are you?”

“This is ECDC, and I am Dr. Spranger. I was informing Dr. Meacham about an outbreak of some type here, we already have 3 cases and no leads. All of them are showing the same symptoms; bloody eyes, blood dripping down their noses, and ears.”

“We have patients with the same symptoms here, it was one of our colleagues. We ran a blood test on everyone in the building and everyone is infected. Hello? Dr. Spranger, you there?”

No sound was coming out of the speaker, Dr.Moore thought that maybe Dr. Spranger was in shock, until a heavy breathing filled the phone line.

“Hello? Hello? Doctor you still there?” Dr. Moore asked. He was wondering what happened, why Dr. Meacham left, and why he told him to let everyone go. He was about to ask Dr. Spranger when an unholy scream drilled through his ear, shaking every cell in his body. He let go of the phone. The scream was so loud that the rest of the people in the room heard it. They all covered their mouths in shock. They could still hear the screams through the broken phone speaker. Filled with fear, his heart beating a thousand miles per hour, all he could do was listen to the screams coming over the phone. Dr. Moore lifted his head and looked straight ahead toward the glass window, and to his horror, patient “zero” slowly raised her head and looked straight at him.

They made eye contact, and for a second or two he thought he was dreaming, having a nightmare. He was so wrong. She slowly opened her mouth and let out the same unholy scream still being heard through the phone speaker. Everyone in the room was in shock, too scared to move, or maybe just waiting for Dr. Moore to tell them what to do since he was the next one in charge.

“Everyone out, lock down is over. Dr. Barkley, I need you to execute protocol and neutralize patient “zero.” Everyone else in the room left, some ran down the hallway toward the elevator, others, trying to stay civilized, walked as fast as they could. They all headed to the same place. They all needed to go back to their respective workstations to pick up their car keys, and then stop by the lobby to pick-up their cell phones, before they departed the building. Dr. Moore knew he had to do the same, but first he had to make sure patient “zero” was completely neutralized. The screams coming from the containment room trembled him to his core, he told Dr. Barkley to leave and that he’d take care of the rest.

An hour passed and he was finally done with the reports and the cleaning of the containment room. He decide to go back, pick up his cell phone from the front desk, and go home.

The elevator doors opened on the 3rd floor. Everything was so quiet, no typing, no phone ringing, and nobody having their normal late night conversation. He stepped outside the elevator and walked down to his office to pickup his wallet and car keys, turn off the computer monitor, and lock his office. He was headed toward the elevator when he heard the sound of a key chain. He looked around but didn’t see anything. He kept walking straight for the elevator. It had been a really strange day and he knew that it was not over yet, but if the top Doctor left to spend time with his family, well, he could do the same. He took three more steps when he heard the keys rattle again, this time he looked to his left and saw a woman with her back toward him. She was standing in front of the water fountain.

“Hello, Nancy? Is that you?” he asked in a whisper. The woman didn’t reply. It had to be Nancy, but what the hell was she doing? he thought. Having spent hours talking to Nancy during an office party last month, he knew she would never act like that. After the party, she stopped by his office every morning asking how he was doing, and every afternoon, she would stop to say goodbye. The person in front of him was no longer Nancy. He noticed that she was not moving or saying anything, he thought about going to her, but something inside his gut told him to stay away.

The sound of keys filled his ears again. As he turned around to look to the back of the 3rd floor, the image terrified him. All of the 3rd floor employees were gathered on the back corner of the room facing the wall, none of them moving except for the janitor whose keys jingled occasionally with the slight shuffling movement of the group. He didn’t notice them before due to the sensor light the office floor had, and since it only worked by sections, the back of the room was all dark when he walked into his office. To his surprise, all of the lights were on and he could see all of his colleagues standing against the wall.

He kept walking backward toward the elevator, keeping an eye on them, when he bumped into Dr. Perry’s desk and knocked over a Christmas toy Dr. Perry’s son had giving him last year. As soon the toy hit the floor, the stupid thing went off, playing a Christmas song. He kept his eyes focused on the mob gathered in the corner. They all slowly turned around. Their bloody faces and hollow eyes aiming strait at him. He turned around toward the elevator and was about to start running, but the woman was in front of the elevator, like a guard dog with her mouth open and on all fours. He took a quick glance back to the mob, but they were all gone.

His heart stopped for a second, and glancing back to the elevator, he knew if he didn’t get inside and close the door, he would meet a horrible fate. He squatted down and picked up the toy. He pushed the button and threw it to the other side of the cubicles, the thing in front of him hesitated for second before it launched on attack mode toward the toy. Dr. Moore didn’t waste time and ran to the elevator. He entered and pushed the button for the lobby. He looked outside and saw all his co-workers crawling toward him, it seemed like an eternity as he waited for the door to close. His heart was beating so hard, he wondered briefly if he was about to have a heart attack. At this point, a heart attack would be a gift, he thought. His face was covered with sweat and tears, and a horrified expression caused by the sight of dead approaching. He couldn’t do anything but stare at what used to be his friends. He closed his eyes and prayed, prayed for his family to be safe and that he would wake up from this bizarre nightmare. He really didn’t care about dying; all he wanted was to ensure his family was safe.

He squeezed his eyes as hard as he could, as if by doing so he would be safe. He could hear the growling of his co-workers getting closer and closer, until the scream from one of them echoed inside the elevator. He could feel them inches from his face, and then silence surrounded him, and he knew this was the end…

CHAPTER FIVE

Dr. Barkley

“Ding” the sound of the elevator bell made him open his eyes, and he realized the doors were closed. He was alive and it needed to stay that way so he could make it back to his family. He rubbed his head, trying to figure out how all this happened. Could he be dreaming? Or maybe some side effects from an invisible gas? But he knew. He knew that everything that was happening was real. Even though adrenaline was still running through his veins, the cold air inside of the elevator was making him tremble.

Maybe it was because he was drenched in sweat, or maybe because he was scared, scared of everything that was happening outside those doors. It seemed like an hour by the time the elevator reached what Moore thought was the lobby, but the elevator actually stopped on the second floor. He braced himself, expecting the worst after seeing Dr. Whitney and his co-workers turn into mindless beasts, and try to kill him. He held in his hand the only thing he had available to defend himself, a ball point black pen. He knew it was not much, but at least it gave him some type of hope.

The elevator stopped and Dr. Moore looked up to the floor number display, realizing that the elevator had stopped on the second floor. He tried to push the button as fast as he could to keep the doors closed, and force the elevator to continue on a one-way trip to the lobby, but it was too late. The doors slowly opened and to his horror there was someone standing in front of the doors. He could not see the face of the person because its back was facing the elevator. Dr. Moore didn’t make a sound. He remained still, holding his breath for as long as he could, aiming the pen at the back of another fellow co-worker.

The lights in the room were off, the only light present was the one coming from inside of the elevator, which made him feel more like a target. The elevator doors were fully open, and without missing a beat, the bell sounded letting everyone know he was there. As soon the sound ended, the thing in front of the elevator turned around, the unholy scream filled the room and echoed thru the elevator. Dr. Moore was surprised to see the thing in front of him was none other than Dr. Barkley.

Both men stared at each other, examining one another to see if they had signs of the infection. It only took them a second or two to realize both of them were not infected, well at least not for now. Dr. Barkley got inside the elevator, and pushed the button to close the door behind him. Neither man said a word. They kept their eyes moving from the elevator door to each other. Dr. Moore barricaded himself in a corner of the elevator, holding out his pen.

Dr. Barkley had the opposite corner from Dr. Moore. They could see in each other faces the fear of what they would find in the lobby. They hoped that no one, or nothing, would still be there. As the doors opened, they were surprised to find the lights on and no one in the lobby. They took a quick look around before exiting completely out of the elevator.

Dr. Barkley stopped by the front desk to access the computer. Dr. Moore didn’t know what Barkley was doing, and he really didn’t care. All he wanted was to get out of there and go to his family. Dr. Moore walked toward the door and opened it, but before he could set a foot outside the building, Dr Barkley called to him.

“Wait, keep the door open,” Dr. Barkley said running toward him. “What are you doing?” Moore said.“We’re going to walk out, but not without burning this place behind us.” Dr. Barkley said, staring into Moore’s eyes for a brief second. They closed the door and kept walking, they could still hear in the distance a female voice saying, “Contamination protocol activated,” and then silence. Dr. Moore knew what Barkley had done. But, it was for the best. Both men walked toward the parking lot, looking at each other for a last time knowing that they would never see each other again. That the world and people they knew were no longer here. They knew that even though they had survived the night, they would either be dead or infected tomorrow.

They both gave each other one last look and went their separate ways. Dr. Moore only turned around when he reached the driver’s side of this car, and he could see the reflection of the fire through the glass of the building. He could see the fire inside of the offices, a self-contained human oven. Tears ran down his cheeks as memories of good friends and colleagues swam across his mind.

Dr. Barkley’s car drove behind him, probably on his way to see his family. Dr. Moore turned around and stared at the car until the tail light faded away, it was time for him to do the same. Anxious to see his wife and kid, he unlocked the car, but didn’t make it inside. One of the infected had snuck behind him while he was staring at Barkley’s car. Without a sound, his dream of seeing his family again had vanished in the darkness of the night…

CHAPTER SIX

Kenneth Blackburn

The strange beeping sound was getting annoying. He didn’t know where it was coming from, but he realized he was not asleep anymore. He opened his eyes, dazed and confused. He didn’t know where he was, and it scared him to see all the medical equipment surrounding him. He realized he was in a hospital room, but could not remember why he was there or for how long. He moved his right arm in search of the emergency button attached to the bed. After a few tries, he found it and pressed it a couple of times. After a few minutes and no nurse in sight, he decided to get off the bed and unplug all the medical equipment from his body.

It was painful, especially removing the IV from his arm. Kenneth slowly sat up on the edge of the bed and looked around one more time for any sign of a nurse. He took his time trying to stand up, something inside told him to take it slow. He took a few steps forward until he arrived at the room door. He popped his head into the hallway, but there was no one in sight. He stepped outside his room. The hospital was quiet, with no noise except for the medical equipment. He decided to make a right turn, and he saw the corner of what looked like a nurse’s desk or information center.

Walking toward the help desk, he noticed that all of the other rooms next to his were empty, but he didn’t think much of it. Arriving at the help desk, he noticed a nurse sitting behind the desk with her head down on the counter, resting on her forearms. At first he thought she was sleeping or just taking a quick break, especially since it was dark outside. He figured it had to be really late. He looked around until he found a wall clock behind the desk. It was 3:45am. He cleared his throat a few times to get the nurse’s attention, but that didn’t work. He knocked on the counter like he was knocking a normal door.

“Hello, excuse me,” he said. He decided to walk behind the counter and tap the nurse on the shoulder, though tapping the nurse twice didn’t work. There wasn’t even a breathing noise coming from under her dark brown hair, which was covering all her face and her arms. Reluctantly he put his hand on the nurse shoulder and slowly pulled her back, her head remained glued to the counter.

He pulled harder and the motionless body fell to the floor, face up. He took a look at her face, her hollow and motionless eyes staring up at him. Her face was cracked and covered with little holes, like the result of a flesh eating bacteria. He was paralyzed at the sight of it. His body tried to react to the image. He took two steps back and away from the counter. Kenneth started to walk down the hallway looking for a sign that would show him the way toward the elevators. The slow walk turned into a full sprint after seeing the elevator sign about 30 feet away.

He pressed the down arrow at the elevator and waited for it to open. As soon as it opened, he rushed in. He was nervous; his hands and face were sweating as if he had run five miles. Kenneth took a quick look around the elevator, and then pressed the button for the lobby. With everything going on around him, he completely forgot that he was still wearing the hospital pajamas and no shoes. He hoped that he didn’t have to run, whenever the elevator opened it door.

The elevator opened and he stepped outside. The lobby seemed quiet, especially for a hospital. The only sound he heard was the sound of the elevator doors closing behind him. Kenneth didn’t bother to look back and just kept walking forward toward the front desk. He was still a little dazed and confused from just having woke up, but he continued walking. The empty lobby provided no comfort to him. How can the whole hospital be empty? he thought.

“Hey,” a voice said from within the lobby. Kenneth looked around but couldn’t see anyone or anything. He remained quiet and scanned the open room from just a few feet away from the elevator.

“Pssst, pssst,” the sound sounded familiar but Kenneth couldn’t determine the origin of it. He took a look around again and noticed someone poking their head from behind a big fake tree basket. He focused his vision, trying to get a better look at who was behind the basket, but he couldn’t. Then he heard it again, the “Pssst, Pssst,” sound, but this time whoever it was used his or her hands to wave him closer. Kenneth walked toward the basket, approaching the individual. It was an old man in his late sixties, with gray hair, and, like Kenneth, he was still wearing his hospital pajamas with no shoes. Kenneth got about two feet away from the old man when he grabbed Kenneth’s arm, pulled him down closer to him, and put a finger on Kenneth’s mouth to keep him from talking.

Kenneth couldn’t keep himself quiet; he had to ask the old man what was going on.“What’s wrong, where is everyone?” The old man kept looking around like a crazy person, completely ignoring Kenneth. Kenneth asked again with no answer, but on his third try, Kenneth grabbed the old man’s face and guided his eyes toward his own. His eyes showed how frightened the old man was, but even so, Kenneth asked again, “What happened to everyone?”

The old man looked at him, “They all died or went crazy.”“What do you mean?” Kenneth asked.

Kenneth didn’t know what the old man had seen, and deep down inside he didn’t want to know. But his curiosity had more power than he thought, and he asked the old man again. The old man was trying to break eye contact, but Kenneth didn’t allow him, he squeezed the old man’s face. After a few seconds the old man finally spoke again.

“Some were jumping out of the windows, some just laid down and died, but the rest were killing each other like savages, cannibals.” Kenneth didn’t know if to believe him or just rule him as a complete nut job.

“Why haven’t you gone outside the hospital to look for help?” Kenneth asked.

“I, I been here for two days now,” the old man said. Kenneth opened his eyes wide in disbelief. Then he let go of the old man’s face, he had more questions for him, but he didn’t even bother. He thought, Why waste more time on this old man, if he is more likely crazy?

“What is your name?” the old man asked. Kenneth looked at the old man, and for a few seconds he held the same dumb look. “Well, so what is it?” the old man asked again. Kenneth realized that he couldn’t answer the question, no matter how hard he thought about it, he didn’t know. He tried to remember anything from his past, but with no luck.

He looked at the old man and said, “I don’t know, I can’t remember anything.” The old man looked at him. “It’s ok, I don’t even remember the last time I changed my underwear.”

Kenneth smiled a little, not sure if it was the right time for him to laugh. After all, now he needed to find out what was wrong with the world and, more importantly, who he was. Both of them remained still, avoiding eye contact. Kenneth was trying to remember anything that could help him answer the old man’s question, but every time he forced himself to remember, sharp pain speared across his forehead. He tried to ignore it the first couple of times, but on the third try his vision turned blurry and he felt like he was about to past out, so he paused for bit. He tried to stand up, but the old man wouldn’t allow it and put his index finger on Kenneth lips.

“Shhhh, they are out there, at least two of them,” the old man whispered.

“Who? Who is out there?” Kenneth said. He freed himself from the old man’s hold and stood up. He looked over the concrete wall beside the plant, but couldn’t see anything. He took a few steps forward, he thought he saw something behind one of the benches. He was right.

He saw a pair of shoes. He moved a little closer and saw what appeared to be a nurse lying face down on the floor. He looked back toward the old man who was waving him to stop, but Kenneth ignored him and kept walking. At soon he passed the front desk, and was about ten steps from the bench where the nurse was laying, he caught movement front the corner of his left eye. Kenneth stopped. It took him a few seconds before he gathered the courage to face whatever was moving. When he finally turned around, he saw there was another nurse on the floor. She was moving her arms, spreading them on the floor as if she was trying to make snow angels, until suddenly the movement stopped.

Both of her arms were wide open and she slowly raised her elbows then started to push herself up. After her elbows were fully locked, she raised her head slowly. Kenneth wanted to start running, but he was way too curious to see her face like he did with the nurse upstairs. The nurse raised her head, her blonde hair was covering half of her face, and her eyes were hollow. Kenneth noticed that her eyeballs were missing and her nose was cracked open.

Kenneth could see inside of her head, through the holes where her eyes and nose belonged. Even without them she was moving her face as if she was looking for something or someone. Kenneth realized she was looking for his scent, her mouth opened and a spray of blood flooded the floor in front of her, followed by and unholy scream. Kenneth had never seen anything like it, and for a moment, he was glad that he couldn’t remember a thing because if he had seen something like this before, he surely would like to erase it from his mind. The nurse tried to stand up but couldn’t. After a few try’s it seemed like she gave up and got on all fours, keeping her body as close to the ground as she could — or maybe as close as her muscles allowed her. She continued to shake her head side to side, violently searching for the scent, searching for Kenneth.

Kenneth was petrified. He needed to run, he needed to get out of there as fast as he could, but his body was not synchronizing with his brain. All Kenneth could do was to stare at the nurse crawling toward him, her mouth open as wide as a normal human could. Now the nurse was about five feet from Kenneth, he started swearing and his hand was shaking. The nurse was about three feet from him. How, how can I die here, not knowing what is happening, not even knowing my name? he thought. I don’t want to die. Tears were running down his face. He closed his watery eyes and managed to close his hands into fists, he still was not able to control his fists from shaking. Kenneth could hear the sound of groaning getting closer and closer, he opened his eyes and looked down. The nurse was right in front of him, ready to launch.

The nurse screamed again and dived at him. Kenneth managed to move his arms and legs just enough to assume a defend position, but the nurse didn’t make it within a foot. The old man hit her on the face with a clipboard. Kenneth reacted and jumped on top of the front desk counter. Kenneth watched as the old man brutally beat the clipboard over the nurse’s head. He couldn’t believe the old man could move his arms so fast.

The old man continued to hack the nurse’s head with the clipboard until he was holding nothing else in his hands. Kenneth leapt down from the desk and grabbed the old man by the hand. He pulled on the old man to move him back. “We got to go, before more of them come,” Kenneth said. He pulled the old man toward the double doors. They were getting closer to the exit when sounds of braking tires filled the night. Both of them stopped, not knowing if they should continue.

They got closer to the double glass door and saw two people inside of a small white sedan. Kenneth recognized the make of the car, a Kia optima. He was amazed that he could remember and recognize the car, but not remember his own name. He kept staring at the car, trying to see if he could remember anything, but his head started to pound and the headache returned. The old man opened the door when he saw a girl about sixteen years old exiting the driver’s side of the car. Kenneth stepped behind the old man, his vision was getting blurry and his headache was getting worse. Kenneth turned around to ensure the double doors were closed but to his horror, the nurse was no longer lying in front of the desk. He reached back trying to put his hand on the old man’s shoulder, but the old man was not close enough for him to reach.

“Let’s go!” a girls voice yelled. Kenneth’s head felt like it was about to explode, the pain was so unbearable. To his horror, his eyes had found the missing nurse; he could tell she was at full speed crawler toward the door.

Kenneth turned around to warn the old man about the nurse. When he looked to the car, he saw a beautiful brunette dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark red hooded sweater. Kenneth could tell she was yelling something, but he couldn’t hear her. His headache overwhelmed him, everything around him was getting dark as if someone had turned off the lights. Kenneth managed to walk a few steps forward but he never saw the stairs in front of him. He tumbled down the stairs, right next to the old man. Kenneth landed face up. He opened his eyes, barely able to see. Kenneth was able to hear the girl’s voice yelling for them to hurry up. Then a blurry image popped in front of him. It took a few seconds for his vision to adjust. The old man was kneeling next to him.

“You alright buddy?” he said. Kenneth was trying to open his mouth but the words wouldn’t come out. He was trying to warn them about what was inside of the hospital. Even if he could have spoken, it would have been too late. A shadow covered his vision, and the screams of the old man filled his ears. Kenneth looked to the right of him and saw the nurse on top of the old man. She was biting his face off and ravaging through the old man’s entire body, like a wild dog tearing apart a rabbit.

Kenneth heard a few gunshots and the nursed dropped motionless on top of the old man. He knew it was too late, the old man was dead and he hoped that the nurse was too.

“Are you ok?” a female voice asked. As soon as he heard the voice, a sharp pain came across his forehead. Kenneth looked up, looking for the girl. The moment he saw her face his whole vision turned black. He could no longer stand the pain and started to fade in and out of consciousness. Kenneth was able to hear the girl calling for someone, maybe the other person inside the car. She was asking him or her for some help. He felt a couple of hands grab him under his shoulder, then he felt the two of them drag him somewhere.

His vision was still not reliable and he still couldn’t make out anything he was looking at. The face of the girl and the other person appeared blurry and distorted. Kenneth heard the sound of a door open, then he was dragged inside the back of the car.

“He is not waking up,” a voice said. “It’s fine, let him rest. We have a long way to go,” the girl’s voice said. The last sound Kenneth heard was the sound of the car speeding away. He tried to hear any other noises, but his headache got worse and worse until he passed out…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Charles Orangetree lives on Savannah with his wife, two sons, and dachshund. He is the author of “Diary of the Last Seed series”. You can contact him at charles.Orangetree@yahoo.com or www.facebook.com/DiaryOfTheLastSeed.

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Copyrights

Kindle Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Please purchase an additional copy for anyone you would like to share this book with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

DIARY OF THE LAST SEED Copyright © 2013 by Charles Orangetree

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers or author.

All Characters and events appearing in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Cover Design copyright © 2013 by Karri Klawiter at http://artbykarri.com/

Content

Charles Orangetree
DIARY OF THE LAST SEED
Vestige 1

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE Stacy Blackburn

CHAPTER TWO Dr. Meacham

CHAPTER THREE Emma Smith

CHAPTER FOUR Dr. Moore

CHAPTER FIVE Dr. Barkley

CHAPTER SIX Kenneth Blackburn

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Copyrights