fell to the ground. She began to crawl, dragging her body, looking for a meal of her own.
Other ghouls began to appear around the neighborhood. Her cries had alerted many, many more. It wouldn’t be long until the sun came up.
“Find directions for the evacuation site, Dave. Write down the place. We need to get out of here.”
Dave nodded and went to the TV to get the information.
“We can kill these things, right?”
A voice sounded off on the TV. The broadcast ended. It looked to be a press conference. An African American man in a white doctor’s robe, stained with dried blood, stood at a podium. He looked among the reporters who were all standing and shouting questions at him.
A young female reporter with messy, short blonde hair caught his attention.
“Doctor! What are these things?”
“We don’t know.”
A young man with black hair wearing a blue blazer asked.
“Doctor, we have received reports that these people are coming back after being pronounced dead. Is this true?”
“Yes.”
He quickly followed up.
“What is the cause of this?”
“We have had patients who after coming into contact with the infected, whether it be through bites or any other contact with the mucous membrane, or even killed by one of these…things, they become another.”
An older, seasoned reporter asked, with a hint of desperation in his voice,
“Is there a cure or-or treatment?”
“We don’t know.”
The older reporter quickly asked another.
“Is there a way to stop them? Will this illness pass?”
The doctor paused and took a deep breath. He knew what reactions were coming.
“You kill them. You destroy the brain, smash it, shoot it. Don’t try to talk to them. THEY ARE NOT HUMAN! THEY TOOK MY daughter.”
He grew silent and pensive.
“They took her away from me. She was one of them.”
The reporters grew angry. Some of them stood in their chairs holding their faces in their hands. Some of them visibly wept. Other shouted about ethics and inhumane treatment.
“Ethics?! ETHICS? You talk to me about mercy for these-these, ABOMINATIONS?”
The doctor grew angry.
“You talk to me about ethics, only after you’ve seen your colleagues get torn apart by them. You talk to me about ethics after you watched your co-workers and friends suffer and die and then turn into one of these things. You talk to me about ethics after you watch everything you have literally eaten in front of you!”
The doctor recalled his daughter’s screams.
He looked down at the floor.
“No more questions.”
The reporters yelled for more information.
“You destroy…the brain? Like smash it? There’s hope, Dave! We can kill these things!”
“Doctor’s orders.”, Dave replied, gaining his composure back. “But, you first.”
The sun was rising. The streets were lighting up. The blanket of darkness hid a few more of the undead.
“Dave, we really need to get out of here.”
“I have an idea!” Dave lit up and ran off upstairs.
Jason waited and tried to think. He opened his wallet and looked through his items. It was a habit he formed to offset nervousness.
“$60, a bank card, a sandwich club card, driver’s license, and a picture of Jesus. We’re really going to need your help on this one”, Jason said softly while looking at the picture.
Dave came back with a duffle bag he’d quickly put together.
“Dude, check it out! Remember when I worked at that summer camp a few years back? Check this out!”
Dave opened the bag and emptied the contents out on the couch. A few wooden baseball bats fell out, a hockey stick, some baseballs, and a catcher’s mitt fell out.
“We could totally use this, Jay!”
“Alright, we need to gather some supplies though. Some food and water, you know things like that. The evacuation site is a ways away.
Other ghouls began to appear around the neighborhood. Her cries had alerted many, many more. It wouldn’t be long until the sun came up.
“Find directions for the evacuation site, Dave. Write down the place. We need to get out of here.”
Dave nodded and went to the TV to get the information.
“We can kill these things, right?”
A voice sounded off on the TV. The broadcast ended. It looked to be a press conference. An African American man in a white doctor’s robe, stained with dried blood, stood at a podium. He looked among the reporters who were all standing and shouting questions at him.
A young female reporter with messy, short blonde hair caught his attention.
“Doctor! What are these things?”
“We don’t know.”
A young man with black hair wearing a blue blazer asked.
“Doctor, we have received reports that these people are coming back after being pronounced dead. Is this true?”
“Yes.”
He quickly followed up.
“What is the cause of this?”
“We have had patients who after coming into contact with the infected, whether it be through bites or any other contact with the mucous membrane, or even killed by one of these…things, they become another.”
An older, seasoned reporter asked, with a hint of desperation in his voice,
“Is there a cure or-or treatment?”
“We don’t know.”
The older reporter quickly asked another.
“Is there a way to stop them? Will this illness pass?”
The doctor paused and took a deep breath. He knew what reactions were coming.
“You kill them. You destroy the brain, smash it, shoot it. Don’t try to talk to them. THEY ARE NOT HUMAN! THEY TOOK MY daughter.”
He grew silent and pensive.
“They took her away from me. She was one of them.”
The reporters grew angry. Some of them stood in their chairs holding their faces in their hands. Some of them visibly wept. Other shouted about ethics and inhumane treatment.
“Ethics?! ETHICS? You talk to me about mercy for these-these, ABOMINATIONS?”
The doctor grew angry.
“You talk to me about ethics, only after you’ve seen your colleagues get torn apart by them. You talk to me about ethics after you watched your co-workers and friends suffer and die and then turn into one of these things. You talk to me about ethics after you watch everything you have literally eaten in front of you!”
The doctor recalled his daughter’s screams.
He looked down at the floor.
“No more questions.”
The reporters yelled for more information.
“You destroy…the brain? Like smash it? There’s hope, Dave! We can kill these things!”
“Doctor’s orders.”, Dave replied, gaining his composure back. “But, you first.”
The sun was rising. The streets were lighting up. The blanket of darkness hid a few more of the undead.
“Dave, we really need to get out of here.”
“I have an idea!” Dave lit up and ran off upstairs.
Jason waited and tried to think. He opened his wallet and looked through his items. It was a habit he formed to offset nervousness.
“$60, a bank card, a sandwich club card, driver’s license, and a picture of Jesus. We’re really going to need your help on this one”, Jason said softly while looking at the picture.
Dave came back with a duffle bag he’d quickly put together.
“Dude, check it out! Remember when I worked at that summer camp a few years back? Check this out!”
Dave opened the bag and emptied the contents out on the couch. A few wooden baseball bats fell out, a hockey stick, some baseballs, and a catcher’s mitt fell out.
“We could totally use this, Jay!”
“Alright, we need to gather some supplies though. Some food and water, you know things like that. The evacuation site is a ways away.
Similar Books
True Love and Other Disasters
Rachel Gibson
The Silver Hand
Stephen Lawhead
We Only Know So Much
Elizabeth Crane
Survivors: Book 4 Circles of Light series
E.M. Sinclair
Little Mountain
Elias Khoury
The Gallant Pioneers: Rangers 1872
Gary Ralston
Artifice (Special Forces: FJ One Book 2)
Adam Vance
The Inn at Dead Man's Point
SUE FINEMAN
The Smugglers
Iain Lawrence
July's People
Nadine Gordimer