Living Among the Dead

Ezekiel - Fall From Grace

Day 40

Ezekiel sat in his apartment, looking down at his hands that were shaking. He closed his eyes and thought back to the man he had to hold back. The look on his face as he threatened Ezekiel and the other soldiers, just to keep his friend alive. The worst part was Ezekiel heard the gunshot almost every minute, ringing in the back of his head. Sometimes instead of seeing the man's face he saw the body hitting the ground with the bullet wound. Abruptly Ezekiel stood up and covered his face with his hands. He took a deep breath, feeling a chill go down his spine.

"You okay?" he heard Harper's voice asked. He moved his hands away and saw her standing in the bedroom doorway. She was taking off her soldier uniform while Ezekiel looked away, covering his mouth with his hand.

"No." he said plainly. She sighed, rolling her eyes in an obvious manner. Ezekiel gave her a side glance and shook his head. "How does that shit not bother you?"

"Because it's necessary." Harper said. Ezekiel fully turned his head now, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Necessary? Do you hear yourself? You're killing innocent people." Ezekiel said, stepping towards his girlfriend.

"Innocent people? They're sick. With what? The virus." Harper said, dropping her bulletproof vest onto the ground.

"With a cold!" Ezekiel shouted at her, motioning with his hands toward the street. "It's the middle of winter and it's freezing out! We have them living in tents with barely any warmth."

"Can we not do this again." Harper groaned, pushing by him towards the bathroom. Ezekiel shook his head, looking at himself in a mirror.

"We're done doing this." Ezekiel said.

"Thank God. It's getting old ba-"

"We're just done." Ezekiel said cutting her off, grabbing his grey hooded sweatshirt.

"What?" Harper asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

"I can't be with someone who has no guilt over what you're doing. You're like a perfectly programmed robot for that dickhead." Ezekiel said, walking towards the door.

"Dickhead? That's your boss!" Harper shouted at him. "You know what! Good riddance! I've been tired of your whiny and bitchy behavior!"

"You're psychotic." Ezekiel said, turning around to look at her. "He's pulled you into this mess and now we're all gonna suffer because of it."

"Get out of here Ezekiel." Harper said, turning away from him and walking back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Ezekiel slammed the door to the apartment behind him and walked out towards the street.

. . .

After leaving his apartment, Ezekiel was found by a soldier who escorted him to Frank's office in a building on the far side of the safe zone, away from where the regular people lived. Not wanting to start trouble, Ezekiel had agreed to go and meet with the man in charge, looking at the crowd of tents as he passed by. Most of the people stared at him and the soldier with the same expression. Disgust, hate, loathing, and any other feeling that could be used to describe hate.

Eventually the soldier reached the door of Frank's office that was on the top floor of it's brick building. Ezekiel opened the door and stepped into the room, seeing a cloud of smoke that was being kept inside. The soldier quickly shut the door, not letting any smoke get out. Frank sat in a folding chair, staring out a window. In his hand was a long glass tube that almost looked like a chemistry beaker. He set the object on the ground and coughed softly.

"Thanks for coming Ezekiel." Frank said calmly, extending his now free hand to a folding chair that was folded up and leaning against the wall. Ezekiel took it, opened it up, and set it down next to Frank. He sat next to him, squinting as the smoke slowly moved around the world.