There's a noise, and I am suddenly awake. I don't know what time it is, it's still pitch black. The only light comes from the candle, and from the open door. It's Fabian, standing in the doorway with another candle.
"Can I come in?"
I nod wordlessly, sitting up on the bed with my legs crossed. Fabian shuts the door. He comes over, placing the candle carefully on the nightstand. The orange glow from the firelight makes him look older somehow. The shadows dancing on his face make the creases and lines more noticeable. It's unsettling. He gently sits down on the edge of the bed, facing me as he pulls his legs up. He takes a deep breath.
"I was away from my family when everything started. I barely survived that first attack. All I could think about was getting back home to my family to make sure they were alright. I couldn't stop thinking about my baby brother," he tells me, staring at the crumpled bed sheets.
"When I finally made it back home...no one was there. I did find Neil eventually, obviously but...I never did find my parents. I didn't really care if I found my father, he was a piece of shit. But my mother? I never found her and that's what really hurt. To this day, I still don't know if she's alive or not. So, I know the pain you're feeling."
I say nothing, staring down at my hands. Right now, I just feel numb. Fabian reaches out and places his hand on top of mine. I meet his eyes, seeing the flame reflected in the dark green color. He squeezes my hand gently.
"You're going to get through this. This isn't over. That man, Keith? We're going to stop him," he says fiercely. "Next step is to get angry. Get really angry and use it. Use that anger and don't let anything stop you."
Taking a deep breath, I nod. "Okay. I can get angry."
"Good." He releases my hand. He moves to leave, but I grab his wrist quickly. Fabian stops and looks at me, perplexed.
"Could you stay with me? I...I don't want to be alone," I say sheepishly. It would feel better knowing that someone else is here with me.
Fabian's expression softens and he nods. "Of course. I'll be right here."
He moves to the floor and lays down, staring up at the ceiling. I lay back down on my side, curled up, staring at his still form. One hand rests on his sternum.
He closes his eyes. "Good night, Carol."
I stare at the flickering flame of the candle on the nightstand. "Good night."
POV: Doctor Keith Jacobs
My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I take a long drag of my cigarette, letting the smoke burn the inside of my lungs. Swiftly, I pull out my cell and answer. "Yes?"
"I've found them, master," Cyrus's voice resonates from the other end of the line.
"Good. You followed the correct protocol, yes?"
"Yes. I administered all of the tracking chips, as instructed."
"Hm..." I take another drag of my cigarette. "Good."
Right on cue, my tracker beeps. I slide it out of my pocket and click the button. The screen flashes with names and locations. Let's see...I have the usual suspects. And someone named Kennedy.
"Is everything showing up properly?" Cyrus asks.
"Yes. You've done well."
"Is there anything else you'd have me do?"
"No. Just stay with the group for now."
"And...what will you do?"
"I will monitor them. For now. I'll come after them when the time is right."
"If I may ask...why do you want them?"
I take a deep breath, flicking ash from my cigarette. "Reasons I do not need to explain to you."
Wordlessly, I hang up. Everything is going according to my plan. My virus has spread everywhere. Society has crumbled at my feet just like I intended. The entire world is destroyed. I can't think of a better comeuppance for humanity. And it's only taken seven years. Few more and humanity will be all but wiped out. But the anger inside of me still rages on. It's not enough. Yet. Not until humans learn their lesson.
Why did I destroy the world? Because it was rotten, rotten to the very core. The greed, the corruption. I just could not take it any longer. Watching people day after day, take their lives for granted, wasting food and destroying the very life force that sustains them. The corrupt politicians, the war. The so-called suffering. Well, I decided to give them a real reason to suffer. And maybe, one day they will see the error of their ways.
Holding the still burning cigarette between my lips, I rustle around my neck for the golden chain I keep hidden beneath my shirt. It dangles in front of me, the heart shaped locket bobbing loosely. I place it into the palm of my hand and open it gently. The color of the small picture has faded some with age, but is nonetheless the same. I feel my anger dwindle slightly as I stare at the long ago image.
The woman in the photo smiles a happiness that is all too fleeting as she holds a small child on her lap. A boy. Even though he is smiling as well, I know that it will not linger. He will never be happy. Never again. I barely recognize that boy anymore. Deep down, I know that he is gone. Just as gone as the woman. She rests in a flower bed now. She is one with the flowers.
Snapping the locket shut, I clutch it in my fist. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, raising my knuckles to my lips. My eyes burn when I finally open them several moments later, a violent and bitter crimson. The rage floods me once more, filling every ounce of my tormented soul.
Teeth bared, my next words come out a snarl. "For you..."
POV: Dr. Phelps
My tracking device beeps, awaking me from my deep slumber. I shoot up in bed, wide awake. All the time I've had this, it hasn't made a sound. This means Keith has finally used his.
A while back, I managed to steal one of his trackers, and both of them are synced to the tracking chips implanted. I know this because when we used to be partners, we used them to find each other whenever we got separated. Now that he's finally used his, I can see who he's tracking.
Turning on the dim light on my nightstand, I snatch the device up and press the button. Five names appear, each listing their location on the screen. There's Lee Kennedy, Neil Johnson, Fabian Johnson, Cyrus and...Carol Tyson. That last one shakes me to my core. Could it be? Can that really be who I think it is? It's no coincidence that her last name is the same as mine.
Slinging the covers off me, I jump out of bed and run out of my room in my boxers. I sprint down the dark corridor, clutching the beeping device in my hand. I bust into the bunk room, the lights blaring to life. Everyone sleeping inside stirs awake, murmuring incoherently. I shake the only person in there who matters awake, my best man.
"Boone! Boone!" I hiss at him, hands grasping his shoulders. He rubs his eyes, groaning as he sits up.
"Doc, it's the middle of the night..." he rumbles, voice thick with sleep. "What's so important?"
"I need you to do something for me," I say, breathing heavily. Sweat trickled down my temple.
"What?" He blinks his sleepy eyes.
I show him the device and the sleepiness vanishes from his eyes. Without having to say a word, I know he understands. I need to get to them before he does.
"Before I found you, I had been tracking this girl," Kennedy begins as we continue our journey. We left the house and we're moving again. I don't know where exactly we're going, but we need to put as much distance between us and Keith. But the rage inside of me wants to go back. It wants me to go back and tear him to pieces. He killed my mother and I just want to end him with every fiber of my being. Fabian said to get angry. Use it. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. It's the only way to take my mind off the pain so I don't break down again.
"What girl?" Fabian asks.
"I don't know her name. But she told me about this safe haven called Eden. That could be where your dad is, Carol." Kennedy turns to me.
"Did she mention how to find it?" I quirk a brow, trying to keep my voice level. My eyes sting from all the crying.
"No. Just that it's underground. A secret, underground bunker."
"That's helpful," Fabians says sarcastically, frowning deeply.
"Carol." The strange man named Cyrus touches my arm. I flinch away in pain. It's sore there for some reason.
"Sorry." He takes his hand away.
"What is it?"
"I'm sorry about your mother," he says softly, pity in his odd, pink eyes.
I take a deep breath, smiling tightly. "Yeah, well...I'll make sure the man who killed her pays."
"I didn't think Keith could be so cruel," Cyrus says, his brow drawn.
I stop, pushing my feet firmly into the ground as I root myself to the spot in front of him. "Do you know him?"
Cyrus blinks rapidly, as if trying to quickly come up with an answer that will satisfy me. "I met him briefly. I did not think that he was capable of murder."
"Next time I see him, I will kill him," my voice shakes as I say the words, not knowing if I actually mean them.
"You will not," Cyrus says flatly. "You cannot."
"Why not?" I glare at him.
Cyrus just stares at me, the pity in his eyes deeper than before. "He's not like us."
"What does that mean?" My voice rises in pitch, anger rushing from every pore in my body. Cyrus doesn't answer, just continues staring at me like I'm some sort of pathetic creature. It makes me furious.
"What, like he's not human?" It takes all of my strength to not scream in his face. Once again, Cyrus doesn't reply. He just stands there.
"Hey!" Fabian's voice calls distantly. "You guys coming?"
Wordlessly, Cyrus turns away from me and walks towards the group, leaving me standing there. I wait there for a few more moments until Fabian calls again, and then I sprint to catch up. Cyrus refuses to meet my gaze after our conversation. I narrow my eyes suspiciously. Something's up. I don't trust him. He knows something. And I'm going to find out.
Days pass, and still we find nothing. No clues. Just nothing. I lie awake at our campsite, and the fire still crackles lightly. Cyrus keeps watch as everyone else sleeps, but nothing has made a sound. Zombies have been few and far between. The ones we've seen acted odd. They acted like we weren't even there. They didn't even try to attack us or anything. Just lumbered on by.
I sit up from my pile of leaves on the ground, looking in Cyrus's direction. He meets my gaze, and I walk over. I sit next to him, back against a tree.
"You're good people," he says. "None of you deserve this."
"What are you talking about?"
He shrugs. "This pain. This life."
I prod at the damp dirt. "Yeah well..."
"I don't know what the world was like before this," he says. "I've only been here for a few days."
Puzzled, I stare at him curiously. "Do you mean that you can't remember what the world was like before this?"
He shakes his head. "No. I mean, this is the only world I've known."
I shift, facing him completely now. "What are you saying?"
"Meaning..." Cyrus sighs. "I'm not real. And I can't do this."
"What do you mean you're not real? What are you talking about?" I'm practically shouting now, and Fabian rouses from sleep.
"What's going on?" He grunts, sitting up. Neil and Kennedy follow shortly, wondering the same.
My mind isn't comprehending his words. How is he not real? He's sitting right in front of me, as real as the world around me.
"All of you have shown me such kindness," Cyrus mutters, his voice sad. "And you don't even know me. I'm a complete stranger. Yet the four of you continue to help me."
"What's this all about?" Neil asks. Cyrus stares at all of us, unshed tears twinkling in his eyes.
"I...I don't know what this is, I...I've never felt this before. I've never felt anything before," he chokes out. "This must be some sort of malfunction. He made me...wrong."
Fabian stands, a deep scowl cutting into his face. "What are you talking about?"
Cyrus stands as well. "All of you need to listen to me very closely. You are not safe. None of you are safe."
Everyone just stares at him, and when no one says anything, Cyrus continues. "I am an artificial human being. I was made by Keith Jacobs. He sent me to find you. And...the other night, while you were all asleep...I put tracking chips inside of you. He knows. He knows where you are. So no matter how far you go. How far you run. Keith will find you."
As soon as the last word leaves his lips, Fabian leaps over the raging fire and barrels right into Cyrus, grabbing his throat and slamming him into the tree.
"YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Fabian shouts in his face, spit flying. Chest heaving, he squeezes his throat.
Cyrus reflexively grabs Fabian's wrist. Eyes wide, he chokes out a few more words. "Please...I can...help...you..."
Fabian slams his head into the trunk. "No! You're done! We never should have trusted you in the first place!"
"Fabian!" Neil shouts, grabbing his brother from behind and forcefully yanking him off Cyrus. Fabian struggles against him, twisting and writhing.
"Let me go, baby brother," Fabian pants furiously, his death glare pinned on a coughing Cyrus.
"You need to calm down," Neil snaps, dragging him back. Meanwhile, Kennedy just watches, one hand clasping his pistol.
Cyrus sucks in shaky breaths, regaining his composure. "I don't want to help him anymore. After traveling with you guys, I can see that Keith is the evil one. I can't let him hurt such kind people."
"Neil, get off me!" Fabian hollers, his face as red as a beet.
"If I let you go, do you swear not to hurt Cyrus?"
"I'll hurt you if you don't let me go!"
Neil reluctantly releases him, and Fabian shoves him back, hard. Despite the clear fury in Fabian's eyes, he doesn't make any motion to attack Cyrus again.
"Does anyone have a knife? I can remove the chips," Cyrus breathes out.
Neil wordlessly tosses him a switchblade, and Cyrus catches it. He flicks it open. He cuts into his left upper arm, not making a sound as he slices through his own flesh. Moments later, he plucks out a small, square-shaped chip, like the ones you see in computers. He smashes it into the ground with his heel.
"There. Took mine out first. You can trust me," he says, coming up to me. "Shall I?"
Nervously I nod, and Cyrus slices into my sore, right upper arm. I cry out in pain as the feeling of hot sparks shoot through my nerves. I feel the blade digging around in my flesh. Cyrus gets it out quickly though, and the grating pain only lasts for a moment. Gritting my teeth, I slap a hand over my wound as Cyrus stomps my chip into the ground.
Fabian takes out his own knife, eyes on Cyrus. "Which arm?"
"Your left arm."
Fabian cuts into his left upper arm, wincing lightly with pain. He rips it out with his fingers, and crushes it in his hand. Soon, everyone has cut out their chips, and we're all chip free.
"You only put one in each of us, right?" Neil asks.
Cyrus nods. "Yes. Just the one. He can't find us now."
"Now what?" Kennedy grips his bleeding arm.
"Now...we run."
POV: Doctor Keith Jacobs
My tracker suddenly beeps rapidly in my pocket. What now? They can't be that far, it's only been about two weeks. I fish it out and see the big, red words flashing SIGNAL LOST on the screen. I squeeze it tightly until a small crack forms in the corner. It takes all of my control to not crush it completely. No. What happened? All five of their names disappeared from the screen entirely. I reset it, but that does nothing. The red words simply appear again, taunting me.
Taking a deep breath, I attempt to calm myself down. It's only a minor setback. Luckily, I have a back up tracking chip in Cyrus. If that doesn't work, then I'll simply pull up their last location. Calmly, I boot up the back up chip embedded inside of Cyrus's heel. Within seconds, his location appears once more on my screen.
Just in case, I'll send a second out to investigate. If there's a problem, I'll need it handled promptly. I never thought I'd have to use him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Sliding the device into my pocket again, I step up to the second glass chamber inside my lab. Cyrus's counterpart. I press the blue button on the panel, watching as the white smoke clears, revealing my second artificial human. He opens his eyes before the door does, staring at me with his dark, violet eyes. Zyrus. He smashes through the glass, ripping the door off. The air hisses out of the chamber violently, the alarm blaring. The red light on the panel flashes urgently, signaling a breach.
"Shut DOWN," I snap curtly, and the alarm cuts off abruptly. Zyrus stands in front of me, still as stone. He says nothing, waiting for a command. Glass crunches under my feet, and I rip a shard out of my neck. Blood sprays out, staining my white shirt and splattering on the wall beside me. I drop the piece of glass, feeling the blood flow slowing as my flesh knits itself back together. I breathe out irritably, displeased with his destructive awakening.
His dark, mid-length ebony hair hangs in front of his eyes. His black clothes contrast significantly against his fair skin.
"Find Cyrus," I instruct him firmly as I unbutton my now unclean shirt.
"Yes master," he says plainly, and promptly disembarks, glass shards snapping under his boots.