unstrapped the belt around my waist. I was wearing only my underwear. On a chair to my right were my jeans, shirt, and boots. I climbed into them, keeping a keen ear for any sounds of people coming. I heard only the raspy breathing of the person in the next bed.
“ Don’t worry, mate. I’ll get you out of here. Hold on.”
I threw the curtain open and saw George strapped to his bed, a drip in his arm. I turned the bag and saw my name. This did not surprise me. This zombie was more than a brain dead, hungry abomination. This monster could at one time think and reason, and judging by the tracks in his arms, he had been tested on numerous times.
I pulled the drip out of his arm. “Ready to get out of here?”
It roared. Its head tried to reach me, teeth snapping. I grabbed its head and forced it back into the pillow. The rage had stolen my fear. I was going to tell him to shut up but only a roar came from my mouth. It was quiet and rumbling. I squeezed George’s neck until his body relaxed. “I’m leaving. Come or stay. Your choice.”
George answered by rattling the straps and I released him. Yes, him. No more it. We were similar now both infected but the virus had a different reaction on me. If I hadn’t been fed his blood, I may never have changed. The rage I’d felt since Skyler’s death was weak. The infected rage was all-consuming. It gave me power, strength and confidence, something I’d never lacked but unfortunately was waning on. I no longer needed my leather gloves.
He didn’t attack me. George only stared at my eyes for a moment then looked at my hands and the peeled skin. He raised his arms and looked at his rotting skin. Then he swung his legs off the bed and stood up.
“ Follow me.”
His lips curled back in a growl, which I took as a ‘yes’. I pulled the edge of the curtain open a crack and peered through. The room was empty. It looked like a hospital ward. Empty beds lined the other wall and there were a pair of thick swing doors at both ends of the room. I scanned the ceiling for video surveillance CCTV but couldn’t spot any.
“ Which way?” I said and looked at George. He had been here many times. If he’d been conscious he might remember. It was a long shot, I know. He leaned in close to me, his rumbling growl intense. I knew what he wanted: live flesh and revenge. “Have fun. But don’t hurt Dr. Speaker. I want to speak with that prick.”
George pushed past me, ran down the hallway, and crashed through the doors. He looked both ways, sniffed the air and raced off down the hall. A moment later, I heard a female scream, then a man’s cry for help.
I went in the opposite direction. Near the end of the room, something horrid came up beside me. I froze and turned to the left. It was my reflection in a mirror. It didn’t look much like me. The peeling covered my face as well as the rest of my body. There were track lines, like veins all over my face. That didn’t bother me in the slightest. I was prepared for this from seeing the rest of my body while I changed. But it was my eyes that scared the crap out of me and sent a shiver down my spine.
I leaned forward not really believing what I saw and pulled my eyelids wide. Brownish-yellow eyes stared back at me. The pupil was pure white. WTF. I was a freak, a fucking freak. Not zombie, not human, but something much worse. I was new. I was RAGE. It must have been George’s blood that had been the tipping point.
Turning away from the mirror, my anger, my rage was boiling. At the heavy swing doors, I let fly a kick to the left door, the closest. It swung forward at massive speed and slammed into the wall. The plaster shattered. The door didn’t close. It stayed open and I was facing a short corridor with an empty nurse’s station. My sharp nose was giving me new smells I’d never noticed before. Faint hints of perfume and cologne and sweat danced in the air. Even fainter were the aromas of blood and coffee, and a brief whiff of