Tales of Terror from Survivors (Zombie Apocalypse #3.5) Read online

  All around he heard whispers, and he knew he must have really looked terrible. He could see Aniyah in the back of the room with Allen, and he almost smiled. Despite the fact that Allen was quite a few years older, Miles had sensed something growing between the two of them for some time now, and he hoped things worked out for them. Allen was a great guy, proven by the fact that he had agreed to stand guard during this speech. He admired Allen and Aaron a lot and hoped he could inspire people someday like the two of them did.

  She looked like she wanted to rush up to the podium, but Miles shook his head. He put his papers away, deciding he didn’t need them. He knew who he was, and he knew he would be able to answer any of their questions. Aaron gave him a quick thumbs up, and Miles felt his nerves settle a little. You can do this. You’re gonna be fine.

  He took a deep breath and began by telling them about his personal life—who he was and how he identified. As he spoke, he noticed a lot of people looked either fascinated or disgusted. He tried to ignore the harsh looks and instead focus on telling his story, about always feeling different as a child but not understanding why. He tried his best to describe the feeling of being transgender so they could have a clue what it was like, but all he could really come up with was the cliché ‘trapped in the wrong body’ description that everyone always heard.

  While he talked, he began to notice some of the residents begin to relax, and he felt a weight lift off of his own shoulders. It was getting easier and easier to talk, which was good because he was finished with the easy part. Strange to think that talking about my identity would be the easy part. He would have laughed if the topic weren’t so serious. When he began talking about the cure, he knew he had everyone’s attention. Not many people got a chance to hear a detailed account from someone about their experiences as a zombie.

  Miles was interrupted a few times by people curious for clarification, and he answered their questions as best as he could, noting that they all seemed completely engrossed in his story now. He made sure to stress that people like him weren’t all that dangerous, anymore so than veterans returning from war. When someone pointed out that he knew a guy who knew a guy, Miles saw his chance and took it, interrupting the man before he could finish.

  “People are often courteous and take steps to help veterans assimilate back into public life. They’re careful when it comes to fireworks and loud noises, they talk to these veterans and ask what they can do to help make things easier, and most importantly, they understand that it’s a mental condition that can’t be helped.”

  The guy stopped, like the thought had never even crossed his mind, and Miles saw similar reactions from others. He felt it was time to draw his speech to a close now that he’d finally gotten a reaction from them.

  “We can help people like me get better by being understanding and not judging them for actions they can’t control. I was like that at one point, having freak outs and nightmares. But for the most part, I’ve moved on and my life has gotten back on track. And I owe it all to the support of a wonderful doctor who listened to my problems. If we can be more like her, I’m confident we can help these people reach their full potential.”

  Miles stepped down from the podium, and was surprised when a few people started to clap. More joined in, and there was a decent round of applause for him. He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and he ducked his head and made his way to the back of the room, where everyone who supported him was waiting. He passed Sam and Ryder on the way and nearly stopped to say something, but the smile she gave him was enough.

  Aniyah had tears in her eyes, and she hugged him tightly, quickly letting go when he hissed in pain. Immediately she checked him over for injury just as Aaron had done earlier, and Miles knew better than to argue that he was fine until she came to that conclusion herself. When she was finally done, she gave him a thankful smile. “That went much better than I could have hoped. I think you got more than a few people on your side after tonight.”

  “I hope so,” Miles said, feeling his chest swell with pride. “I was honest about everything, and it just sort of came out. Hopefully things get a little better around here now that I’ve given them something to think about.”

  The door slammed open and a man rushed into the hall, bleeding from a wound on his face. His eyes were wild and his breathing erratic, like he’d just woken from a nightmare to find it had bled over into real life. He gasped for air, “Someone opened the front gate and let in a pack of cannibals!”

  Before anyone could react, the screaming started. It was a good distance away, but there was no mistaking the sounds of people being killed. It was a sound everyone in this room had become accustomed to, and the thought of what it meant had Miles’ gut twisting painfully. He closed his eyes, trying not to remember the sound of any screams he might have caused. Before he could sink too far into his mind, the room was bursting into action, led by Allen and Aaron.

  The two led a group of men and women to the open door and out into the street, making their way to the armory—a small shed erected that housed all their weapons. Miles felt a pang of fear at the thought that something might happen to either of them, but he forced it back or else he was going to be rooted to the spot. He made his legs move and carry him over to the open door. He had to see what was going on out there. While everyone else was huddling under tables or making mad dashes for their homes, Miles was standing out on the street, staring at the carnage around him.

  A woman nearby was knocked off her feet by a charging tackle, and she screamed as she was dragged away down the street. Miles’ heart raced in his chest as he watched the body count quickly rise, as people were bashed over the head or stabbed or had their throats ripped out. The cannibals were dragging their catches back towards the gate. Miles didn’t need a very vivid imagination to know what they would be doing with their victims later, and he shivered as the memory of the hunt hit him harder than ever before. He could practically taste the blood on his tongue, and he nearly doubled over and puked over his shoes. Thankfully the cannibals didn’t make it very far before Allen and Aaron arrived with their armed forces.

  The gunfire snapped Miles out of his confusion, and as they drove the cannibals back to the front gate, he felt his heart break. All around him were injured people—some dead and others dying or probably crippled for life. It was people like him that had caused this pain and suffering. Any progress he thought he might have made tonight was just wiped away before they even had a chance to celebrate.

  This is why they hate me. I understand now…

  As the gunfire continued, Miles knew it wasn’t safe to be out in the open, but he couldn’t go back into that food hall and face all of the innocent people huddled together in fear. He felt like a liar for telling them that people like him weren’t dangerous, and now that he had witnessed firsthand the damage people like him could do, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He began to run down the sidewalk, not caring that there were bullets flying all around or that there were people dying left and right. He just wanted to be home, he needed to be away from all of this!

  Somehow he made it safely back to the home he shared with Aniyah. He drifted into the kitchen and collapsed into one of the chairs, sobbing. He hadn’t even realized he was crying, but now the tears poured down his face and he couldn’t make them stop. He brushed them away with the backs of his hands, only for them to come back stronger than before, blurring his vision and making his throat constrict. His hands were shaking and his shoulders were heaving with each sob. He sat there in the darkened kitchen for what felt like hours, rocking back and forth and trying not to fall apart.

  Aaron found him there later, sitting on the kitchen floor with his back to the fridge and a steak knife in his hand. He glanced up when Aaron walked in, and he knew the moment his eyes found the weapon. His whole body froze, but he didn’t look too surprised. He just hovered there in the kitchen opening, probably trying to gather his thoughts and process what he was seeing.

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p; Miles tightened his grip on the knife and Aaron reacted, slowly drifting closer. His eyes found Miles’ as he took a seat across from him, in the middle of the kitchen. For a minute, neither of them said anything, but the silence became overwhelming, and Miles was the first to break it. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was worried about you,” Aaron said simply, as if it should have been obvious. “When the cleanup started, I noticed you were nowhere to be found. I thought I might find you here. And I thought it’d be a good idea to make sure you were okay, just in case you were thinking about blaming yourself for what happened.”

  “Did you find out who opened the gate for them?”

  “Yes,” Aaron said, his eyes narrowing. “And they’ll be dealt with.”

  “How many people are dead?” Miles asked, closing his eyes and preparing himself for the answer.

  “Seventeen. And there are several more injured. It could have been worse,” he added softly.

  “When I saw what was happening, I finally realized why people are scared of me. There’s a chance I could turn into something like that, someone capable of thinking and feeling, someone who still wants to eat human flesh. There are more people like that than I thought there were. I was under the impression people like that were an anomaly. At least, that’s what Aniyah told me. I suppose she just wanted to make me feel better.”

  “She wasn’t wrong,” Aaron said. “It is a statistically small number, we think. Think of how many people came back. Millions, all around the world. Obviously we haven’t been overrun by ravenous freaks yet, so it only makes sense to think that cases like this are few and far in-between. Unfortunately for us, there happens to be a group of them living nearby, trying to pick us off. And they managed to get one of their own through the gates without us knowing. I fail to see how that could possibly be your fault.”

  “You wouldn’t,” Miles said. “You’re not one of them.”

  “Neither are you,” he countered. “You’re far more like me than you are like them. You have to remember that, Miles. You’re a human being, a good one. You can’t let something like this set you back.”

  Miles almost laughed. “Set me back? What about my speech tonight? What good did it really do? They heard me talking about how we’re not dangerous, and then several of us try to eat them! I’d call that a setback, wouldn’t you?”

  Aaron sighed. “It was unfortunate timing, but it can’t be helped. We’ll do damage control if we have to. But I think you’re underestimating the impact your speech had tonight. Even after what happened, you’ve opened the eyes of many people here. They’ll stand by you through this.” As he spoke, Miles’ grip on the knife tightened and he brought it closer to his chest. “I’ll stand by you,” Aaron said, moving closer. He took Miles’ free hand in his and squeezed. “Miles, don’t give up on yourself, please. Things will change for the better eventually, and I want you to be there to see it.”

  Miles sobbed and flung the knife away. It skittered across the kitchen floor, sliding to a stop near the door. He put his head in his hands and cried, feeling like a failure with nothing else to offer. He didn’t know what to do or say to make things okay, and he doubted what Aaron was saying. Of course things weren’t going to change for the better. How could they? But…he wanted to believe Aaron. He had to. He’d shown Miles so much kindness, there was no way he’d lie to him, right?

  “Miles, listen to me.” He grabbed Miles’ arms and brought him closer. “You’re a good person, and someday people are going to look to you for guidance. You’re going to make a difference in the lives of a lot of people. I need you to be strong, even when it’s the last thing you wanna be. You can do this; I know you can.”

  How was he going to make a difference? He doubted anyone would ever look to him for guidance. He was still a child in a lot of ways, despite all of the things he’d seen and experienced. He’d been restored longer than anyone and he was still having regular therapy sessions! How was he supposed to help others? There was no way for those like him to get the help they needed.

  Maybe I could change that. Aniyah wasn’t a certified counselor, but she was doing her best for his sake. Perhaps he could learn how to listen to people and help them like she did. Is that what Aaron meant by guidance? I have a unique outlook on life because of what I’ve experienced. Maybe I could share that with others and help them cope. I could be like a glimpse into their future, an inspiration for how their lives could become…

  “Thank you, Aaron.” His voice was soft and tired, but he felt the weight of Aaron’s words sinking in, and it made him want to get up and do something. He was going to make a positive change in people’s lives. He’d come to terms with who he was, and once he came to terms with what he was, he’d be able to start healing others the way Aniyah and Aaron had healed him. Even though his life was dark right now, his future was looking bright for the first time that he could ever remember. He was going to make damn sure that he was around to see it.

  The End.

  Before: Dr. Richards

  Carter Richards stared at the report, trying to read the words as the page shook back and forth in his hand. If he understood this report correctly, the damage was far worse than any of them could have predicted. Her disease had spread faster than anticipated, and the death toll was already well into the thousands. And it was only day three since her escape. He scanned the report again, noting that entire neighborhoods had been wiped out. The problem seemed to grow more and more dire with each passing hour, and Dr. Richards marveled at his creation.

  She’s a force to be reckoned with—unstoppable and violent. She’s building an army, and there’s nothing we can do to stop her.

  He set the paper down and took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. The last couple of days had been a whirlwind of meetings, blame, and fear, and Dr. Richards had absolutely zero patience for any of it. While many were busy blaming him for the setback in their research, he was busy in his lab trying to study and better understand his creation. Truthfully, he couldn’t get enough of her. She had started out as nothing—a waste of time and life—and he had transformed her into something magnificent.

  Something deadly.

  Something pure.

  It was odd to think of his creation in those terms, especially given all of the damage she’d caused, but he couldn’t help it. She had no humanly desires to lead her astray or tempt her. She was a creature with nothing but basic instincts, life in its purest, rawest form. Content to do what her animal nature demanded of her.

  He glanced at the clock ticking away above his workspace. He was due at a meeting in less than five minutes, and he probably shouldn’t be late. He’d been late for the last one and it had caused some stir amongst his higher ups. Many thought he should have been taken off the project for good—some even thought he should be jailed for crimes against humanity. Yet here he was, still in charge of his project, and still with his clearance to get him into any place in the lab. He didn’t want to risk losing all of that just to enjoy another minute or two of peace and quiet.

  He grabbed a file full of papers and test results, and he exited his office, making sure to lock the door behind him. He’d changed his code twice already, too paranoid that someone might attempt to break in and look for some kind of leverage that could be used against him. And he’d taken to sleeping with his card around his neck to make sure it never went missing. He hadn’t trusted anyone in this office before the security breach, but now his hackles were constantly raised and he sensed enemies everywhere. It was like they were all waiting to swoop in, discredit him, and take his job, title, and funding.

  He wasn’t going to let that happen.

  He hurried down the hallway to the meeting, sliding into his seat just as it was about to begin. Ignoring the sour looks from some of the others in the room, he busied himself with reorganizing his papers. When the meeting didn’t start, he looked around, noticing for the first time that the chair next to him was still empty.
r />   It looks like Dr. Abbott is late. How unusual, he thought almost wickedly. Let her be the one to draw their ire today instead of me. That will teach her not to lead a witch hunt.

  While they waited for Dr. Abbott, he passed the time looking around the room, making it a point to ignore all of the people and useless chatter around him. He had never been particularly fond of this room, with its high, curved walls and lack of windows. The round table in the center of the room was too large to be practical and the tiny chairs placed all around it were incredibly uncomfortable, especially considering they sat in them for hours at a time some days. There was a series of monitors along one side of the room that flashed random bits of information, as well as a handful of boards with papers and pins scattered across their surfaces.

  He shifted to try and find a more comfortable position as Dr. Abbott entered, looking frazzled, like she’d just gotten out of bed. He frowned at her lack of professionalism, not understanding how she could be the next one in line to take over as head of the project should he fail. Someone that couldn’t even look presentable this late in the day didn’t deserve a title or respect.

  She slid into her seat, nearly falling out of it. Her shoulder brushed his and he cringed at the contact. He was never that fond of women and avoided any familiarity with them whenever possible, but Dr. Abbott had proven over and over again that she was willing to do anything and work with anyone if it would advance her career. And that seemed to include collaborating with him whenever it was necessary. Damn, did she annoy him.

  A man cleared his throat from the front of the room, and everyone stopped their hushed talking. “Now that we’re all here,” he said, giving Dr. Abbott a look that would have withered a plant, “let’s get down to business. We have quite a bit to discuss and we don’t have a lot of time to do it.” He went to the nearest board and tapped on a large map of the city, which had been mottled with numerous pins. Dr. Richards studied the pins and was unsurprised when the man spoke again.