Dead Days

Chapter 14

     The Russian sat at the computer. Smiling quite an ugly smile. He enjoyed getting under Jacks skin.

     He removed the patches from his head that ran into a nearby computer that matched his brainwaves to Jacks.

     He also removed a small chip from behind his ear, so small that if you didn't know it was there, then you would never find out.

     This chip, this little tiny piece of equipment had the power to invade the mind. The person who had the master chip held the cards, they had control of the others subconscious.

     The Russian had stuck the other end onto Jack, just before leaving him to the undead and the fire.

     He smiled. Oh how great it would've been to know he was either burned or eaten alive.

     He stares at the wall in the dark room. The only light coming from the now white computer screen. A knock comes from the door.

     "What?" He says, disappointed that someone had ruined the serenity of the moment.

    The door creaks open and a sliver of light is let into the room, "it's time for the daily check up, Vladim."

     The Russian cringed, he hated his name. It sounded so weak, so feeble, unlike him.

    "Very well." He stood from the chair and opened the door fully. Their sat the scientist in the wheel chair, the American. Goodman, they called him.

     "How are you feeling, Vladim?" Goodman asked on the way to the lab?

     "How do you say in American? Like a million bucks?" The Russian asked.

     "Yes, like a million bucks." Confirmed Goodman. As they reached the door to the lab Goodman entered the code to the door. No one but him and a few other select scientists knew the code.

     The door beeped the confirmation code and the hydraulics pulled the door open. The American wheeled himself into the lab and to a desk. "Have a seat on the bed." He said, nodding towards it.

     The Russian took a seat. Goodman punched a few keys on the keyboard and rolled over to the Russian.

    "Any signs of Rigor Mortis?" The American asks, looking at the slits on the Russians wrists.

     The only way for his version of the virus to work was he had to be dead before it was introduced. He had to slit his wrists and die from blood loss. A slow and painful death.

    "No." Is all he said.

     "Any loss of motor functions, or trouble speaking?"

     "No."

     "Then all seems to be order. You may leave now." Said Goodman, a smile crossing his lips.

     The Russian walks to the door, but is stopped by the voice of the American scientist. "We're still good on our deal, right?" He asked.

     The Russian looked at the door and smiled, "of course." He opened the door and walked into the hallway.

                                   ...

     You know when you're laying in bed and on the verge of falling asleep but you feel like you're falling so you snap awake? Yeah, that's what just happened to me.

     I snatched the sheets in a firm grasp, hoping they'd save me from certain death. I slowly let them go realizing that I'm still in bed and not falling through darkness.