Zombie Virus

"Brian don't make me do this." I sobbed as I aimed my gun at him. "Brian!" There had to be some part of him that was still the Brian I knew and loved. He couldn't be completely gone. It had happened so fast. From the first symptoms to this, the end result. But Brian kept coming, uttering gutteral growls. Even his speech capabilities had fled. This putrid, stinking, rotting, walking corpse was no longer Brian, I reminded myself. When he was almost within arms reach, I closed my eyes, and squeezed the trigger. Two, three, four, five, six times.

Opening my eyes, I looked at Brian on the floor. He'd gone down with my first shot. I knew that because I'd waited until he was close enough that if he wouldn't have, he would've reached me. I shot him once more, point blank in the head just to be sure. Then I dropped to my knees beside him, and cried bitterly. I couldn't even hug him goodbye. If I did I would likely get the virus also.

I thought about what my life with Brian had been like the last few years .

Brian and I had met at a music festival two years prior. Ironically the name of the band we had gone to listen to was called Zombie Apocalypse. I know, right. What are the odds.

That day, I'd decided to go to the music festival simply for something different to do. Something to get my mind off of my recent breakup.

It was a good thing I did, because otherwise I never would have met Brian. I like to think it was fate that brought us together. We kind ran into each other by accident. No, literally we did run into each other. I'm sure the crack of our heads colliding was heard by everyone at the festival. We both saw stars. At least I know I did. I don't know about Brian. That guy had the hardest head of anybody I've ever known. I mean here I was trying not to pass out, and all he does is say ouch and rub his head a bit.

After making sure I was ok, he asked for my number. He said it was so he could check on me, and make sure I was really ok. Like an idiot I gave it to him.

The next day when he called we talked for almost an hour. At the end of the call I agreed to meet him for coffee the next evening. And well that was it. We were soon seeing each other exclusively.

Two months later we'd moved in together. Both of us agreed, however, that marriage was not in the books. At least not for a number of years yet.

A year after moving in together we purchased a house. The man we bought it from was a crazy old coot, who's children were placing him in a nursing home, and selling his house because they didn't want to take care of the property.

The old man went on and on about zombies and how there was going to be a zombie apocalypse someday. "There's zombies out there." He kept repeating. "They're gonna come for ya, someday. " Then he'd lean real close and say kinda creepy like. "Real soon."

Needless to say, we were glad to get away from him. We couldn't wait to explore our new property. One of the first things we discovered was an underground bunker. It was accessible through the basement. Once Brian and I got inside the bunker, we discovered that there was also an outside entrance. In the wooded area behind the house.

Brian and I just looked at each other and laughed. "Man, that guy really was crazy." Brian shook his head.

"Imagine being so paranoid about a zombie apocalypse that you would build this." I thumped the wall. "I wonder how long it took him, and when he did it?"

"Who knows?" Brian shrugged. "He was just a crazy old guy." He looked around. "We can use it as storage. Keep our canned goods down here, or use it as a gun safe."

"Or..." I'd wrapped my arms around him, and leaned my head on his shoulder." We could use it as an entertainment area. You know, in case we decide to throw a party. The neighbors couldn't complain about the noise if we held them down here." The possibilities were endless. Neither of us dreamed that it would be used for the very purpose for which it had been constructed. That perhaps that old man wasn't as crazy as we all thought.

It was only six months after we bought that house, that a mysterious new virus surfaced. It started out with boil like sores, then when doctors lanced the boil, your flesh started to rot, giving off this putrid odor. A few days later, your muscles started getting stiff, to the point you could hardly bend your elbows, and knee's. Then not long after you lost all speech capabilities, and were only able to make grunting noises. That's when you went crazy. People at this stage of infection began to attack people, killing them. Those who did manage to get away, started with the first symptoms within days.

Within a weeks time a global pandemic was declared. All travel was banned. People were getting sick at an alarming rate. Even Brian and I were starting to get scared. And we did not scare easily.

After one of our neighbors house had been broken into by zombies, Brian and I discussed moving into the bunker. I thought surely it wasn't necessary yet, but in the end we decided we'd spend our nights in the bunker, and during the day we'd work on stocking up on supplies, so that when the day came, that we had to move into the bunker for good we would be prepared.

We'd barely started stocking up with supplies, when we heard that the government had deployed soldiers to kill everyone suspected of being infected with what was now being called the zombie virus. We would have to be more careful than ever.

By this point everyone carried a gun on their person. For safety reasons. The zombies were everywhere. Thankfully they couldn't move fast, but they could move silently. Often, if you weren't alert at all times they were almost upon you, before you realized it. They also did most of their hunting, or whatever you wanted to call it, at night.

Scientists had discovered that pain, was the reason they went crazy. Infected people had so much pain, they could no longer think clearly. It drove them insane, turning them into murderers. And the painkillers that were available did nothing to alleviate the pain. Scientists had not yet found a solution, or a cure. At the rate people were being infected, and dying there would be no one left by the time a cure was found. And yes, people did die from the virus. It took about three weeks from the first symptoms for death to occur. If the infected person wasn't killed first by other means.

And zombies can in fact be killed, quite easily actually. It doesn't take special bullets like the stories, and movies say. Just normal ones. And they don't have superhuman strength. Just people driven crazy by the pain. It's the most horrible way to die. Imagine rotting while you're still alive. Something that usually does not occur until after death.

Supplies were low. It was hard to find anything, since all travel had been shut down, including shipping. So stores were being sold out, and no new shipments were arriving in order to be able to restock. Food was running low, and people were beginning to show signs of starvation. Now, not only were we being killed off by the zombie virus, and soldiers killing anyone they suspected of having it, we were also dying of starvation. Was this nightmare ever going to end? Or was this how the world ended, with everyone dying of a mysterious zombie virus, that no one knew where it had originated from.

For Brian and I it was about to get even worse. One morning Brian woke up, and noticed the beginning of one of those dreaded sores.

"No, that's not what it is!" I cried when he told me, what he'd found. "It's something else. It has to be. It can't be that." I made a move to take his hand, but he pulled away snd stepped back.

"You can't touch me, Casey. " he spoke gently. "If it is indeed the zombie virus, you'll get it to if you do. I don't want that to happen."

"I don't care if I do get it." I said rashly. "Brian, I don't want to lose you."

"Well, I don't necessarily want to die, either." He said wryly. "We'll make sure to have no contact for a few days. If it is in fact the virus, we will know within a few days. "

He was right. Two days later, there was definitely an oder coming from him. He was beginning to smell like rotten flesh. It was then I knew. I could no longer lie to myself. I cried my heart out. Brian felt so terrible that he couldn't even give me any comfort. Nor could I comfort him. We sat in opposite sides of the room, and cried by ourselves. Both of us knew what this meant.

At long last Brian spoke. "Don't let me turn into a murdering zombie, Casey please. Shoot me. Just shoot me. I'm going to die anyway."

But I couldn't do it. No matter how much he cried, begged and pleaded, I could not bring myself to do it. Why did he not just kill himself, you might wonder. After all everyone carried a gun. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I took his gun from him while he slept, so that he couldn't do that very thing. I wanted him aroumd as long as possible. I didn't want to say goodbye. I wore gloves, and burned them afterward. Brian was as angry as I'd ever seen him when he discovered what I'd done.

"You don't understand. " he told me. "It hurts. I can't even describe the pain. It's worse than the worst toothache. Please, Casey just put me out of my misery. Please, I can't bear this."

I broke down, and cried. I promised I would do it. I pulled my own gun out of my pocket, and held it to his temple. My hand started to shake. What if I killed him, and then they found a cure, and he could've been saved. "I can't do it!" I cried, lowering my gun. "I'm sorry, Bri, I just can't. What if...what if they come out with a cure in the next few days?"

Brian looked sad. "They won't ." He said quietly. "Just promise you won't let me kill anyone, Casey. "

Well that I could promise. It was only four days later that Brian began losing his speech capabilities. He no longer looked like the Brian I knew. Rotting flesh covered ninety percent of his body by now. I was still hoping to save him somehow.

We were running low on supplies so I went out in search of some, not that I thought I would find any, but I still had to try. Besides I needed to figure out what to do with Brian. How could I keep him from hurting anyone without killing him? The bunker. Now why hadn't I thought of that before? I could shut him up in the bunker, and lock the door from the outside.

Feeling better than I had for a long time I hurried home. As I reached the porch, I heard noises from the house that were suggestive of things being smashed. My heart leaped into my throat. What if some zombies had gotten inside? I glanced through the window.

I immediately knew it was too late to save Brian, for he was the one smashing things. The zombie conversion was done. This...thing inside tearing everything apart, was no longer the Brian I knew and loved. I knew what I had to do, so with shaking hands, I pulled my gun out of my pocket. Stepping to the door I opened it. The sound of the door caught Brian's attention and he turned, and started towards me in that queer lurching gait that zombies have. He was uttering gutteral growls as he came arms outstretched towards me.

"Brian, no!" I cried, but I don't think he recognized me anymore. Aiming my gun at him, I waited until he was almost within arms reach before squeezing my eyes shut and pulling the trigger. Two, three, four, five, six times. By this point I was sobbing uncontrollably. I shot him one more time in the head, just to be certain he was dead, then dropped to the floor beside him. "Oh, Brian. " I sobbed. "I loved you." I couldn't even hold him in my arms to say goodbye. If I did, I would catch the virus too, and I knew Brian did not want that. I spent all night beside his body, crying.

By the time the sun rose in the morning, I was spent. Still I needed to bury him. I couldn't just leave him lying there. So I dug a hole underneath our favorite tree in the yard. It wasn't very deep, certainly not as deep as it should be. But it was the best I could do. Putting in gloves, I dragged his body over and pushed him in, then covered him with the dirt, until there was no part of him visible. After I was finished, I patted the ground. "Goodbye Brian. " I said softly. "I will never forget you. " Turning away, I entered the house, and removing my clothing, I burned them all, then heading down into the bunker, I locked myself inside. I was going to stay locked up until I felt certain that I wasn't going to get this virus. By burying Brian I could have had accidentally comtaminated myself. I didn't want to turn into a murdering zombie any more than Brian had. I took my gun out and turned it over in my hands. I would shoot myself at the first signs of this dreadful virus. If by some miracle, I didn't get it, I would do my best to try and find a cure. The very fate of mankind depended on it.