Zombie Guy

Chapter 22: Shifting Dynamics

Linda showed up at the clearing just after noon, looking as polished as ever in her tailored jacket and neat ponytail. Meanwhile, Jaime and I looked like two hobos who had just crawled out of the woods—because we were. Her sharp gaze flickered over both of us before landing on me.

"You look... better," she said, hesitantly. "Less, um, corpse-like."

"Well, thanks," I said, giving her my best Hollywood smile. "I've been moisturizing."

Jaime snorted but quickly disguised it as a cough. Linda didn't seem to notice, her eyes narrowing as she studied me closer. Something about her expression made my nerves itch, like she was looking for cracks in my carefully constructed human façade.

"I told you we're making progress," Jaime said, stepping in to break the awkward tension. "I mean, he's still a walking science experiment, but at least he's a *cute* one now."

"Jaime," I hissed, mortified, but Linda just gave a thin, distracted smile.

---

We headed to Jaime's house since it was the only place where we could speak freely without worrying about guards or prying eyes. Linda sat on the edge of the couch, stiff and composed, while Jaime plopped down with her usual lack of grace. I took the seat furthest from Linda, still feeling the sting of her wary gaze.

"So," Jaime began, breaking the silence, "since we're all playing the 'figure out the shady lab secrets' game, I think it's time we talk about something important." She glanced at me, then back to Linda. "My brother."

"Your brother?" Linda asked, her brows furrowing slightly. "What does he have to do with this?"

Jaime reached for her bag, pulling out the same photograph she'd shown me the day before. She handed it to Linda, her tone losing its usual edge. "Nathan. He was a scientist too, and I'm pretty sure he worked on something connected to all this. He disappeared three years ago, and the last time I saw him, his wife was pregnant with twins."

Linda studied the photo, her lips pressing into a thin line. "And you think he was involved with Lab 7?"

"I think he was involved with something *like* Lab 7," Jaime said. "He worked on experimental pathogens, stuff about neural regeneration. Sound familiar?"

For the first time since arriving, Linda's composure cracked. Her fingers tightened slightly around the photo, her eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite place—recognition, maybe?

"I'll look into it," she said finally, handing the photo back. "But this... this is a lot, Jaime."

"Tell me about it," Jaime muttered, shoving the photo back into her bag. "But if there's even a chance he's still alive, I have to try."

---

As the conversation shifted back to Lab 7, the itch under my skin grew worse. I leaned back in my chair, clenching my fists to keep them from shaking. My senses were going haywire again—Linda's perfume was too strong, Jaime's voice was too loud, and the faint ticking of the clock felt like a hammer against my skull.

"You okay?" Jaime asked, her eyes narrowing as she watched me.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth, but it was obvious I wasn't convincing anyone.

Jaime stood and crossed the room, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Breathe, Kevin. Focus on something else. Count backward from ten or... picture something relaxing. Like, uh, kittens."

"Kittens?" I managed, my voice strained.

"Or whatever works for you," she said with a shrug. "But if you're going to go full zombie, maybe do it outside?"

Despite everything, I laughed weakly, the tension in my chest easing just slightly. "Thanks for the support."

"Always," she said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Linda, meanwhile, was watching the whole exchange with a strange expression—part curiosity, part something else I couldn't quite read. Her eyes lingered on Jaime's hand on my shoulder, then flicked to my face.

"You've been having... episodes?" she asked, her tone guarded.

I nodded reluctantly. "It's been happening more lately. Hunger, aggression, sensory overload—it's like my body's fighting itself."

"And Jaime's been helping you with that?" she asked, her voice a little too neutral.

"Obviously," Jaime cut in, rolling her eyes. "What else am I supposed to do? Leave him to figure it out on his own?"

Linda didn't respond, but her silence spoke volumes. There was something in her gaze as she looked at Jaime—something almost sceptical.

---

Later, after Linda left, Jaime turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, what was that about?"

"What was what?" I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I knew what she meant.

"She was acting weird," Jaime said, crossing her arms. "Like, *extra* weird. And not just because she's finally realizing I'm amazing."

"Maybe she's just stressed," I suggested weakly.

"Or maybe she's up to something," Jaime countered. "I'm telling you, Kev, there's something off about her. She didn't even react when I showed her Nathan's photo. No sympathy, no surprise—nothing. Who does that?"

I didn't have an answer. The Linda I'd known before Lab 7 would have been empathetic, even outraged. But this Linda... I wasn't so sure.

"Let's just focus on what we *can* do," I said finally, though Jaime's words gnawed at the back of my mind.

---

That night, the symptoms hit harder than ever. My hands twitched uncontrollably, and the hunger was so sharp it felt like a physical pain. Jaime stayed up with me, pacing alongside me and cracking jokes to keep me grounded.

"Look at it this way," she said, her tone light. "At least you're not sprouting extra limbs or turning into a puddle of goo. Yet."

"Great. Thanks for that image," I said, wincing as another wave of dizziness hit.

She grinned. "Anytime."

By the time the worst of it passed, the sun was starting to rise. Jaime handed me a glass of water and gave me a tired but genuine smile. "See? You survived another night."

"Thanks to you," I said quietly.

She shrugged, brushing it off like it was nothing. But the truth was, I didn't know how I would have managed without her.