Zombie Guy

Chapter 21: Pieces of the Past

Jaime was at the kitchen table again, her usual fortress of notebooks, files, and frustration spread out in front of her. This time, though, she wasn't muttering about her brother's handwriting or threatening to light his old papers on fire. Instead, she was staring at a single photograph, her expression unreadable.

"What's that?" I asked, leaning on the counter. My nerves were already on edge, my restless pacing doing little to help the hunger that gnawed at me constantly. Still, the way she was looking at that picture made me pause.

Jaime glanced up, holding the photo out for me to see. It was an old one, slightly creased at the edges, of a man in his late twenties with dark hair and a bright smile. Beside him was a woman, equally radiant, her hands resting on what was clearly a pregnant belly.

"That's my brother," Jaime said softly. "Nathan."

I took the photo, studying it carefully. Nathan looked like the kind of guy who could light up a room—charismatic, confident. There was something familiar in his features, a resemblance to Jaime that was hard to miss. "He looks happy," I said.

"He was," Jaime replied, leaning back in her chair. "He and Claire—his wife—they were perfect for each other. They were so excited about the twins. That photo was taken about three years ago, the last time I saw him."

I glanced up, surprised. "Three years? You haven't seen him since?"

Jaime shook her head, her jaw tightening. "He disappeared. Claire called me one night, frantic, saying he hadn't come home from work. I thought it was just a late night at the lab, but then days went by. Weeks. No one could tell us anything."

I frowned, sitting down across from her. "What was he working on?"

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "He was a virologist. Brilliant, like genius-level brilliant. He'd been working on something big, some experimental pathogen that was supposed to revolutionize medicine. That's all I know—he didn't talk about it much, said it was classified."

The word *pathogen* hit me like a punch to the gut. "Jaime, do you think he was involved with... this?" I gestured vaguely to myself, to everything that had happened.

She hesitated, her fingers drumming against the table. "I don't know. But I wouldn't be surprised. Nathan was always drawn to cutting-edge stuff, even when it got risky. He told me once that his lab was working on something to repair neural damage, using viruses to trigger regeneration." She laughed bitterly. "Guess that went well."

I didn't know what to say. The thought of Nathan—this man with a family, a life—being caught up in something as twisted as Lab 7 made my skin crawl. "What about his wife and kids?" I asked.

Jaime's expression softened, a rare flicker of vulnerability crossing her face. "Claire had the twins—two boys—after he disappeared. I've only seen them a couple of times. She moved back to her parents' place out of state, said it was too painful to stay in the house without him."

"Do they know what happened to him?" I asked.

"No," Jaime said, her voice tight. "As far as they're concerned, he's just... missing. But I think he's still here, somewhere. Maybe in that lab."

The weight of her words settled between us, heavy and unspoken. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, that we'd find him, but the truth was, I didn't know if we would. And even if we did... what kind of state would he be in?

---

Later that day, we went for a walk to clear our heads. Jaime was unusually quiet, and for once, I didn't try to fill the silence. My senses were still on overdrive, every sound and scent amplified, but I forced myself to focus on her instead.

"You really think he's alive?" I asked finally.

She glanced at me, her expression guarded. "I have to believe that. It's what's kept me going this long."

I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to admit. After everything that had happened with Linda, I knew what it felt like to hold onto hope, even when it seemed impossible.

"What were they like?" I asked after a moment. "Nathan and Claire."

Jaime's lips twitched into a small smile. "Nathan was... everything I wasn't. Outgoing, charming, always had a plan. He could walk into a room and have everyone eating out of the palm of his hand in five minutes. Claire was his opposite in all the best ways. Quiet, steady, the kind of person who could calm him down when he got too caught up in his work."

"And the kids?" I asked.

Her smile widened slightly. "I only met them twice, but they're exactly like him. Wild, curious, always getting into trouble. It's... hard, knowing they'll grow up without him."

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded, letting her words hang in the air.

---

By the time we got back to the house, Jaime was back to her usual self—sharp-tongued and relentlessly practical. She grabbed one of Nathan's notebooks and settled at the table, muttering under her breath as she flipped through the pages.

I, on the other hand, was still restless. The hunger was worse than ever, clawing at me like a living thing. I paced the living room, trying to shake it off, but the more I tried to ignore it, the stronger it got.

"Kevin, sit down," Jaime said, not even looking up from her notebook. "You're making me dizzy."

"I can't," I said, rubbing my temples. "I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin."

"Well, you're not crawling anywhere until we figure this out," she said, tossing a pencil at me. It hit my shoulder and fell to the floor, a small reminder that even in the midst of everything, Jaime was still Jaime.

"Thanks," I said dryly, picking up the pencil and setting it on the table. "Really helpful."

"Hey, I'm doing my best here," she said, smirking. "Now stop whining and eat something before you start gnawing on the furniture."

I sighed, grabbing a rare steak from the fridge. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. For now, it was enough to keep the hunger at bay. But deep down, I knew it wasn't a solution. It was only a matter of time before I'd have to face what was happening to me—and what it meant for the people around me.