After the End

Common Ground

"You're finally awake."

The voice sounded loud in the dim morning light of the hospital room. The flimsy curtain did little to block out the sun's rays and it barely obfuscated the world beyond. I reached out and grabbed my phone. Holding it in front of my squinting eyes I said, "It's barely 6:00am. What in god's name did I do to you to deserve this kind of treatment?"

Rayaan laughed and said, "Do you really think he's ever been particularly concerned for us? You and me especially?" That made me sit up. He was sitting in a wheelchair at the foot of my bed observing me with his dark eyes. "I never said he wasn't capable of completely screwing things up." I replied. I let out an involuntary yawn and stretched. I was still wearing the scrubs from the previous night and the grumbling in my stomach reminded me that I had forgotten dinner.

"Do you make a habit of coming into girls' rooms without permission?" I asked. He crossed his legs and rested his elbow on the arm of the chair. He'd somehow managed to get his hands on a singlet and a pair of trackpants. I bitterly recalled my own two whole weeks with only a hospital gown to my name. Dr Stadler was playing fast and loose with the rules now. He replied, "We're the only two of our kind and given what I went through yesterday I figured they would forgive me. I need to talk." I nodded. I needed information when I recovered as well. I needed to know if my family survived. I needed to know I was not alone. None of my questions ever resulted in answers I actually wanted to hear.

"Do they know you're up?" I gestured outside the door. He leaned back. "I'm assuming they'll figure it out eventually." I crossed my legs and leaned forward. "What do you want to know? And why must I be the one to tell you?" He rubbed his finger against his lips and frowned. "As for why it has to be you, I can count the names of the people I know here on one hand, but let's start with basics. What is the date?" I picked up my phone and turned it on so that I could show him the date. He let out a breath that ended in a short whistle. "I was a gone for five days."

He rubbed his chin wearily. "How long were you...?" He let the sentence peter off. It didn't matter. I knew what he meant. I shrugged, "Thirteen. We think. It's kind of hard to tell because I don't know exactly how long it took me to turn. I only know the date I checked into my shift before all hell broke loose." He raised an eyebrow, "Your shift?" I returned his gaze, "I was doing my last nursing practicum at Lyell McEwin Hospital."

He looked away and murmured, "So that's why you weren't phased with..." He cleared his throat and said, "So this is your day job? Helping recoveries." I laughed bitterly, "My day job is being so mentally scarred that I find it hard to sleep. I came here yesterday because of pity and regret. I somehow couldn't stand someone going through what I did, and I'll be honest I need you. I'm sick of being the only one."

He looked taken aback and pointed his finger between the two of us. "There's only two of us?" I nodded slowly. He whistled again. "That is not a great success rate. So, when they hauled you away to make sure you were ok it was literally because this is the first time you've done that?" I shrugged, "Yeah but I was pretty sure I was going to be fine. My psychiatrist is going to have a field day with that though. He already thinks I'm suicidal."

Rayaan was quiet for a moment deep in thought. "Do you know the status of the border right now?" I shook my head, "No. They probably won't have reliable information on that for a couple of days. The cure only works on a super small percentage of people and kills most of the other zombies in the area. The remaining ten percent or so will need to be killed manually if they want that area back." He pinched the bridge of his nose and scrunched up his face. "So, the rest of my unit is essentially dead?" he snapped. I could do nothing but look back with pity. "If they're still there then yeah."

He paused, calming himself for a moment and then asked, "May I borrow your phone?" I blinked with surprise and handed it over, "Yeah. Go ahead. Just don't call England." He grasped it with care and typed a number into the keypad. After a deep breath he pressed the green phone icon and held it to his ear. He bit his lower lip as he waited for the ringing to stop. Suddenly his eyes grew wide, "Mum?"