"No, no, you incompetent fool! The results of this mixture say that the body will combust a few seconds after contact with the serum. Try this one." I shoved a newly-tested equation to him. He nodded, then scampered off to his table on the other side of the room. I've been working with these novices for the past twenty-something days. I'm about to lose my head; I'm positive I'm smarter than 80% of them. "Mauge, check the container quick. Make sure there's enough liquid nitrogen in there." Mauge, the most competent scientist, nodded and checked the glass case. In it was Ariana's half-corpse.
"Level's at 46%, sir," she squeaked.
"When it gets to forty, fill it generously. Don't want her rotting any further." She nodded. I turned back to my table, all messy with equations and serums. Some were failed, some were successful to a degree. Our most successful was one that reverted the heart, but our test subject didn't last long. I never seen a zombie eat its own heart out, but hey, there's a first for everything. I mixed in two drops of liquified iron with 10 mm of the latest succesful serum. I remember Ariana having an iron deficiency; winter was always hell for her. At least here in Houston, snow is somewhat of a rarity.
It's December, almost Christmas, and so far our successful tests have been as goes: the reversion of both arms, a leg, a heart, and an eye. My hopes are as follows: by her birthday, we have the antidote. We all chip in and work hard: guards have squared off the building from anything that moves, those of us who were good in biology and such work in the labs, and anyone extra scavenges for perishables outside the perimeter. Mason's in Lab #7, working alongside of us on making the antidote. The old Team Crafted guys work on scavenging and the perimeter. Desmond and Isis are currently escorting Grandpa here. I still remember his reaction when he heard the news...
---
"Are you kidding me?!" I could hear his fist slam down on something. I wiped the seemingly nonstop tears.
"No. She sacrificed her life so we could find this antidote. She turned, and now she spends her days strapped to a flatbed."
"That's it, get Desmond on the walkie." I handed him the walkie. In a hushed tone, he answered.
"H-Hello?"
"You little shitstain, you were supposed to protect her!!"
"I wasn't chosen to attend the rescue! Now I'm on my way to Houston to... see her."
"You know what? As soon as you get there, you and your little girlfriend are gonna drive back up here to Maine and pick me up. I'll slap the shit out of your ass while she watches." Desmond still nodded.
"Yes, sir."
"Get Danny on the walkie." I straightened up before receiving the little radio.
"Granddad?"
"You make sure everyone stays safe. Pogan, too. I don't want anyone else dying."
"I will, sir."
"And if you slap Desmond for me right now, I'll bring you a pack of gum." I turned to Desmond, who braced for impact. I smacked him with the back of my hand, leaving a red mark. Grandpa laughed on the other end. "Good boy. I'll be there soon. And Desmond, I'm comin' for you, boy."
---
That was a week ago today. Desmond's still whiney about how hard I slapped him, but anything for such a luxury. The intercom crackled to life, and the Vice Prez, whom we held hostage, spoke.
"Cadillac approaching. Holding four of our people." Probably Grandpa, Desmond, Isis, and whoever the driver is. I left my equiptment and took the stairs up from my basement-level workspace. I stripped out of my lab coat, left it on a hook, and grabbed my gun for heading out. I stuffed it into the back of my pants.
"Break the perimeter, I'm checkin' the Cadillac." Sky and some guy moved out of the way, and I stepped out into the cloudy day. The Cadillac was parked in the garage. I jogged quickly to see if my suspicions were confirmed. Doors closing echoed in the garage, and Grandpa came strutting out.
"Hello!!" he called.
"Grandpa! Grandpa!" I was picked up and swung around. "Ariana's inside. We have her in a case, to keep from her rotting more. We're working on an antidote."
"That's good. I'll gladly help in wherever your working."
"The underground labs." He set me down, and the short trek back inside ensued. "How's your girlyfriend?"
"Shush," he chuckled. "Uh, she's good. Almost done with her training as a nurse. Wish she could have come to help out, but she still has a few weeks."
"I understand," I nodded. "What about everyone else?"
"Ah, I've finally whipped up a fine crew of trained zombie-killers. Took some time to crack 'em, but after telling them the situation with Ariana, they clammed up and manned up."
"Everyone used to really respect her, eh?"
"Yeah, even in the before times, I bet. How was it, back at the public high school?"
"She was respected by everyone barely talking to her. She said it was bliss." He nodded, signalling me to continue. "She was a great student, she was in band, and she used to have French horn lessons. She was extremely new to it, but a natural in the upper register."
"That's good. It's usually hard to transfer to such contrasting embochures."
"Yeah. Then, when she was talked to, she was so patient with everyone. She told me about this one time where the Bio teacher left her in charge for a few minutes. No one acted up, and they all actually got some work done."
"I bet if she had our whole high school on her side, she would have been an amazing commander."
"She always seemed to have a plan." Silence fell as we entered the elevator. "Ready to see her?" He nodded. I pressed B1, and the short descent ensued.
---
"I promised myself I'd be strong, but... oh my god..." He started gagging, then rushed to a trash bin to empty his stomach. I couldn't blame him; infected muscle and skin was evident where her legs once were, and what looked like blood and pus clotted at the open wounds. I'd just avoided looking directly at it. He straightened up a bit. "Didn't expect it to be that bad."
"She'd almost turned before, but a doctor saved her life. Too bad that doctor wasn't here when she was bit a second time."
"Who was he?"
"I don't know." When he was done calming down, he allowed me to lead him to the labs I worked in. "When you feel more up to it, feel free to help out." He nodded.
"Just give me a few minutes."
