Final Apocalypse: Infant

Waking Up

Dr. Jordan Kaleil needed a break. He'd been working all month just to make ends meet. That was pretty hard to do when you worked as an ambulance doctor. When your job was to keep people alive until they made it to the hospital.

Right now, he was loading a gurney into the back of an ambulance. The girl that lay on it was presumed dead on scene, but she still needed to be brought to the morgue for an autopsy. He could see several bloody stab wounds on her chest and stomach. He rolled his eyes. Pretty self-explanatory. Someone stabbed the bitch to death. Did it really take a lab report to figure that out? He rolled down the sheet and studied her appearance. Black hair with red streaks. A cruel smile that stayed alive even in death. Torn emo-like clothing. He closed the doors as the ambulance took off and sat down. How old was this girl? She looked like one of the students at his daughter's old high school.

He attached the electrodes to her chest and arms, then plugged them into the monitor. He rolled his eyes again. She was dead. What the hell was the point of hooking her up to a monitor?

The monitor beeped and he jumped. This girl still has a pulse? How was that possible? She should have bled out hours ago. She should have been dead. So how on earth was she still alive?

Lights. Soft voices. A blinding pain. Where the fuck was she, and what was going on here? She could hear the monitor beeping, monitoring her heart rate. She tried to open her eyes, but they felt like lead. After a minute, she managed. There was an African American man standing next to her. A doctor by the looks of his uniform. Was she in the hospital? No, wait. She could feel movement. Ok, she thought. I'm in an ambulance. I'm alive, but how? Wait, is Marriko alright? I need to get out of here. I need to help her.

Jordan screamed as Tamara sat bolt upright. She looked into his eyes, then weakly lashed a tendril around his arm. "Tell them to pull over. My friend needs my help." She commanded.

Jordan tapped on the window and asked the driver to pull over for a moment. Tamara smiled and released him. "Good boy. Now get this wretched machine off of me."

He hurriedly disconnected it and pulled the electrodes off of her. He opened the back of the ambulance and Tamara stumbled out, falling on her face in the rain- wetted streets.

She felt so sick. Like her next step would be her last. She pushed herself up with a tendril as the ambulance drove away. She needed to make it to Marriko. She had to know if she was alright. She took a few more steps, then fell down, crying. She wasn't strong enough. For all she knew, Marriko was dead. Dead because they had turned on each other in what Tamara now considered a momentary lapse in judgment.

"It's all your fault. You brought him back from the grave. This is all on you." A voice in her head spoke to her.

Tamara shook her head. "No. We killed him, right? He can't hurt anyone else. We solved the problem."

Laughter. "Is that what you call justification? You think that killing him will justify all of the murders you committed? You're wrong. You're a monster. We're a monster."

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!"

An apparition of herself formed in front of her. "I am you. You are me. What difference does it make? People still die when they get close to either of us. You're pathetic. You consider her your friend. Monsters don't deserve love or compassion. All we deserve is death."

Tamara lashed out, but her tendril passed through the apparition like smoke. "Have you figured it out yet? The only thing that can kill us, is us. We're unstoppable," she paused. "And to answer your other question. My name is Elizabeth. Just remember, Mara. We're unstoppable together." She faded away, leaving Tamara truly alone in the middle of the street.

Branches snapped nearby. Something was getting closer. She weakly pushed herself up and turned in the direction the sound had come from. Nothing as far as she could see. She listened for a second. Again, the sound of snapping branches. Yet, nothing in sight. A click to her left startled her. She whirled around and was seized with pain. She fell to the street, trying to scream, but couldn't seem to control any of her muscles, much less her tendrils. They fell to the ground like limp noodles.

She saw a pair of weathered leather boots getting closer. They stopped, and the pain dulled. She felt herself slipping into darkness, but not before she saw the pool of blood beneath her. She'd accidentally reopened her wounds.

She heard someone curse, then blacked out.