Chapter 8

Submitted by Zombieman on Sun, 11/12/2017 - 18:26

“Sarah. Wake up, Sarah.”

“Where am I?” Her thoughts were muddy, and the room was dark. She felt, old, like a lot of time had passed. “Nick?”

“No, Sarah, Nick isn’t here.”

“Jessica?”

“Your family isn’t here, Sarah. What is the last think you remember?”

“She…bit me. Through the ceiling. No.” Her brow furrowed in thought, “I was in my attic. There were a lot of people there that I didn’t know…Someone…Max!”

“Good, good, take it slow. I know you have a lot of questions. Are you hungry?”

Sarah was nodding before she even thought about it. A warm coffee mug with a lid on it was thrust into her hand.

“Not really thirsty…” She began, then she caught a whiff form the small hole in the top of the cup, it took only a second to raise it to her lips and she drank down the contents like a hyena on a Serengeti. When she finished she looked up at the man talking to her, she could see him more clearly now. “Who are you?”

“My name is doctor Malcom Taylor.”

“Are you black or is it just that dark in here? You look funny.”

“Sarah, you have been through some very bad trauma. We have a lot to catch you up on, trust me, my staff and I will get you back to a hundred percent in no time. Could you eat some more?”

“Yes.” Sarah felt like she could drink a hundred more mugs if they were offered. Doctor Taylor took the empty one back from her and thrust another into her waiting palm. She drank it down in a frenzy, taking frantic gulps and spilling the contents over her cheeks and chin, which she then pushed into her mouth with her fingers. The cup, unneeded and forgotten dropped from her hand and Malcom caught it with supernatural prowess.

“That’s all for today, I’m afraid. We’ve brought people like you back before and find it works best if we progress slowly and educate you as we go. So today is the beginning of your new existence.”

“My new existence…” Sarah’s eyes went wide, “I remember…I…there were cannibals, eating people in the street. Some of them burst in and I…there was a woman named Nancy…”

“Good. I am glad you can remember that much, it helps put things in context for what I am going to tell you later. Do you love your children, Sarah?”

“Beyond anything.”

“And your husband, what is his name?”

“Max.”

“Do you love him?”

She paused for a moment. “He was in the attic. He had a gun. I think he was going to shoot me. They weren’t cannibals. They were…zombies?”

“Good, but focus on your children and Max. You loved them. You would want to protect them, it’s only natural for a mother and a good wife to protect the ones she loves. You would need to find them first, wouldn’t you? That would be one of the first things you would have to do. You would have an overwhelming desire to find them, so you could protect them.”

“I would. If I could find them…”

“You’ll find them, Sarah. I am going to help you find them.” Malcom brushed his hands over Sarah’s hair, pausing and keeping them pressed against her head for a moment until the woman’s eye’s closed and she appeared to go to sleep. Sleep would imply a pulse, which she was lacking and the dead didn’t need rest. Still Malcom left the room and she stayed there, standing upright, face smeared with blood, hands slowly clenching and unclenching by her sides.

“Well, Malcom?”

“Senator, always good to see you taking a direct interest in your projects.” Malcom said to

Senator Elisa Parker, “Congratulations on the speakership.”

She made a brushing off motion with one hand, “Thank you. Now, how about it, doctor?”

“She is probably the oldest recluse zombie I have had to deal with. I don’t have her in a direct relation, so working with her is only going to be possible for a little while longer, if she becomes much stronger we’ll have to find a better ancestor to work with her.”

“Unlikely, most of that region’s grandparents died in the Denver blast.”

“Then we’ll make do. I’ve done all I can to set her on the path of developing the skills you and your advisors deemed necessary.”

“I know it’s hit and miss, Malcom. I’ll be disappointed if it doesn’t work out like we want.”

“Psychology isn’t an exact science and I am dealing with zombie psychology, which is still in its infancy.”

“Really, Malcom, I already told you I won’t crucify you if it doesn’t work out, stop down playing your abilities. Just keep feeding her slowly and get her to the point where another pint or two of blood will bring her beyond your control. Then keep her on ice until we need her.”

“She is damn close to that point now.”

“Then cut her off. Just bring her out of her stupor and keep working your magic.”

“As you say. Have you heard from <##NAME##>?”

“Malcom, wherever did you hear that I was waiting to hear from <##NAME##>?”

The doctor looked away, “That’s the scuttlebutt.”

“From whom?”

“Hell, even the janitors are talking about it. It’s been on the forums and talked about in the halls.”

“I am not fond of leaks or of rumor mongering.”

“What do you think <##NAME##> can do for you if he chooses to help?”

“I never said I was looking for him and I won’t give in to temptation and postulate today. Just stick to your patient.”

“Yes, senator.”