Infectious

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I wander around the area full of debris for numerous days, the empty eyes seem to stare at me through the body bags. I drag my feet as the weight of the camouflage suit weighs me down a little. Fiona's body is being dragged away by the feet and I immediately feel a rage like none other.

"NO! PUT HER DOWN!" I shout. The men do as told and let her feet go. Another man hands me a body bag and I unzip the cloth, rolling her limp body onto it. I can't believe they... he... he knew where she was and he still let it go. That bomb was what started it all. We fired at them and of course, being the smart people they were, they aimed for the top of our residence building so that it would tumble down like a game of 'Jenga'. Riley was supposed to evacuate EVERYONE from the building. He knew Fiona was on her date and he let her die. Riley let both of them die because he couldn't risk the lives of our guards. I lift her body up and carry her to a nearby tree. lying her down on the soft grass and picking up the shovel that's slung across my back, I toss away the rooted dirt as fast as I can. A strange sound resonates from Fiona's body and I look over at her. Her eyes have clicked open but they're not her's, they're more of a milky white pupil and an infected yellow around the pupil. She gasps for hair and begins to make odd noises. Her neck snaps towards me and that's when I realize the multiple bite marks on her legs. They must've found her when they infiltrated camp. She drags herself up and begins to limp towards me, her weak legs barely supporting her body. Her eyes search for the smell of my body and when she finally locates where I am she begins to snarl and snap her teeth. She's a wild animal, and it's all his fault. I nervously pick up my gun and try to steady my aim at her head yet I can't, my hand shakes and sweat beads my forehead. I finally pull the trigger and shoot her head on a lucky shot. I hear footsteps running through the debris of dried leaves.

"Are you okay? We heard gunfire," the sergeant explains his disturbance.

"Yup, but before you put away the bodies, shoot them once in the head," I instruct. He gives me a firm nod. I hear his staticky walkie talkie turn on and his voice giving out the orders to all the other men. Gun shot after gunshot rings out across the area. I take Fiona and drag her to the whole, pushing her in on top of the open body bag. I replace her hair and cross her porcelain hands over her chest. I kiss her hand and throw the rest of the bag over her face, covering the body in loose dirt and plant an uprooted flower on top of her grave. The flowers are an orangey red, just like her beautiful hair. I sink to the floor and begin to bawl. He's now a reminder of her death every time I look at him.

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I enter the laboratory with a clean maroon baseball shirt and khaki coloured jeans. My belt of weapons is slung on top of my waist and I keep my hands busy by kneading the joints of my hands with my thumb. A few of the doctors mill about, mixing different syringe mixtures with numerous chemicals. I join Dr. Crawford whom is studying a chained up zombie.

I tap him on the shoulder, "hi sir," I say. He swivels around and greets me with a beaming smile. He's in his fifties yet his black hair has managed to stay atop his head. His beard has bits of grey in it but his eyes are still as young as a newborn. Every time you see them you know that he yearns to discover the undiscovered.

"Hello, love," he says and gives me a kiss on the forehead. Apparently I'm like the granddaughter he's never had. We've been here for about a week now and I'm still a little traumatized. So many people died, both men and women. All the children are safe yet some families were split apart. Dr. Crawford grabs a pair of tongs so that he'll be able to pick up a searing piece of metal. He brings the piece of metal to the dead things arm and presses down on its skin. It doesn't even flinch. It searches frantically yet nothing else. How odd, if a certain part of their brain makes them conscious enough, how come they can't feel anything? They can't feel sympathy, that's for sure. What if under it all they had a conscience that knew it was wrong yet knew it had to survive. No, that's crazy talk!

"Today I need you to get some of the soldiers to go out on a run for me, some of your friends still need some patching up," he informs me.

"Ya, no problem. I'll be in the computer room after if you need anything else," I let him know. He nods and turns back to his fascinating dead person.

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I enter the computer room and see my things down at the extra table. I hear something crash from inside the storage room and the door throws itself open. Griffith tumbles through the door frame and quickly regains his footing. He runs to put down the stack of papers and vials in his hands. I chuckle a little and he gives me a goofy grin that spreads to his radiant eyes. I type in the pass code to the computer and begin to research the anatomy of the brain. When the radioactivity of the virus enters your lungs after you die, it sparks a sixth sense which reengages your cerebrum. Your cerebrum triggers movement which is why zombies can still walk. But what if there was a cure that protected you from their radioactive bites...

"What are you doing?" Griffith's mellow voice asks as he rests his chin on my shoulder. I look at him through my peripheral vision and chuckle.

"I'm just reading up on infections. There's this one disease I just found out about. It's called immortui languorem. It's when your brain doesn't fully stop after you die. I found it in some of the old government files," I explain. He nods and sits on the table. I cross my arms and legs and stare at him.

"What?" he asks with a grin.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about how I was glad that you stuck by me through it all. You kept me level headed and I thank you for that," I tell him. He gets onto his knees on the floor so that we're at eye level and cups my cheek.

"I think- I think I'm in lo-" he starts to say.

"Shhhhhhhh," I hush him, "don't say it," I tell him.

"No, I need to say it, Raine. I need you to hear it. You don't have to like it but I'm gonna say it," he convinces me and I shut up. I begin to silently cry, why is he doing this? Why is he trying to love me? I'm nothing but dynamite.

"I love you, Raine, with all my heart. You're the only person I trust and the only woman I'll ever truly love," he continues and notices the tears streaming down my face.

"Why are you crying? Did I do something to offend you?, he asks me in a concerned manner.

"No, that's the problem. You haven't done anything," I tell him. He interlocks my fingers with his.

"Then tell me what's-" he begins.

"Just kiss me," I cut him off.

"What?" he says in awe and confusion.

"Kiss me," I reapeat more sternly.

"Is that really what you want? Or-" he hesitates.

"Yes, yes it is," I tell him and I pull him towards me. Our mouths interlock and it's like fireworks. Every love, every crush, will never compare to this. This is the kiss that eliminates every single one. The electricity is not a pulse but waves crashing between our lips and I can't believe I didn't want him sooner. I pull away and sharply inhale and so does he. He smiles and it's so contagious that I start to giggle. He picks me up and spins me around.

"Wonderful!" he exclaims.

"What?" I chuckle.

"The day I've been waiting for has finally arrived! I think this calls for a celebration!" he says excitedly, "find me later. I'm supposed to be meeting up with my mother in a few minutes but we'll find each other after," he says. I nod in an ecstatic manner and he pecks the knuckles of my hands. His lips embrace mine and he rushes out the door, turning back one last time to see me. Butterflies dance in my stomach and the whole world feels like it's spinning at a million miles an hour.

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The wind lashes at my face and I watch the winter sun descend into oblivion. I breathe air onto my numb fingers and watch as Riley passes by with numerous other boys. We make eye contact and I can feel the fire raging in my eyes and in my soul. When I look at him, all I see is death and destruction. The distant cries echo in my head and Riley painfully looks away.

"Hey," I hear my mum's voice. I look over and she has a black tuque pulled right over her ears. I pull my knitted khaki hat over my naturally curly/frizzy hair and curl my feet closer to my body.

"They found it," she tells me, "they found where the cure is hidden," she informs me.