comment.
The receptionist was slumped across her desk, certainly dead. The right side of her suit jacket was tattered and bloody. A thin stream of blood dripped to the floor from a head wound that looked like it came from a neat gunshot behind her left ear. The sharp smell of blood and other body fluids assaulted Pam’s nostrils. Pam had worked with plenty of corpses before, but she had never seen anybody who just been violently assaulted before death. She froze in the doorway.
Before Pam had time to process the sight and smell, she heard shuffling and groaning behind her. The sound startled her enough to get her to step through the doorway and firmly click it behind her. A moment later she heard a dull thumping as somebody, or something, pressed itself against the door. She had no idea that one of the mad things had been that close behind her.
“What did you mean when you said I’d let the dead in?” Pamela asked. She stepped forward, away from the thin barrier between her and th ose mad things that the wounded people had become. The sight of the dead receptionist still appalled her, but at least the poor woman had stopped moving.
“It’s obvious,” Dr. Klein said impatiently. “The virus re-animated my clients. But it did not restore their brain function. In fact it took over. Those bodies have become one with the virus. That’s the simplest way I can explain it to you.”
“What about the other people?” Pamela asked. “I saw George, Enrico, and a handful of others. Enrico attacked me in the corridor, and I barely got away. George is bashing his head against the door but can’t seem to remember how to use the handle to open it.”
“The virus wants to spread, ” Dr. Klein said flatly. She spoke clearly, but dismissively, as if she were instructing a dull student. She was not even bothering to offer Pam her full attention but seemed engaged in a text conversation on her cell phone. “The infected attack the living. A bite spreads the virus. The wound must kill the host, and then the virus can reanimate the body.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Pamela said. “Now you’re telling me that these people have turned into zombies? Is that right? The virus spreads with a bite. The bite kills the host and then reanimates it. You have become the mother of a race of monsters!”
“You want to call them zombies?” Dr. Klein asked. She looked up from her cell phone and pursed her lips for a moment to consider the notion. “I don’t practice Voodoo, but simply science. If you like, we can call them the Zed. I believe I heard that in some old movie or another though I don’t typically watch that sort of thing.”
“You could’ve fooled me,” Pam muttered. She had spent the day thinking that her employer seemed like the creepy mad scientist in an old horror flick. Now her mildly diverting fancy had been confirmed in the worst possible way. Dr. Klein did not even seem fazed when Pam had told her that Enrico had turned into one of the creatures . Maybe she already knew.
The double doors did not have a window but now she was pretty sure that multiple bodies were heaving themselves against the barrier. The thumps were not at all rhythmic but they were steady. She stepped around the desk to put something between herself and the doorway. The doors did not even seem to be locked but simply shut securely. At any moment one of these mad creatures could accidently hit the handle and open it. Pam considered trying to shove the receptionist’s desk against the doors, but she was reluctant to disturb the bloody dead woman resting there.
Now Dr. Klein ruminated over the crisis more. “The virus must piggyback on some of the original host’s brain function. You observed them walking and trying to grab you. They can certainly walk and sense their victims somehow. But I’m quite sure that whatever made the people unique and sentient individuals is quite subsumed.”
“Is there a cure for this?”
“How would
The receptionist was slumped across her desk, certainly dead. The right side of her suit jacket was tattered and bloody. A thin stream of blood dripped to the floor from a head wound that looked like it came from a neat gunshot behind her left ear. The sharp smell of blood and other body fluids assaulted Pam’s nostrils. Pam had worked with plenty of corpses before, but she had never seen anybody who just been violently assaulted before death. She froze in the doorway.
Before Pam had time to process the sight and smell, she heard shuffling and groaning behind her. The sound startled her enough to get her to step through the doorway and firmly click it behind her. A moment later she heard a dull thumping as somebody, or something, pressed itself against the door. She had no idea that one of the mad things had been that close behind her.
“What did you mean when you said I’d let the dead in?” Pamela asked. She stepped forward, away from the thin barrier between her and th ose mad things that the wounded people had become. The sight of the dead receptionist still appalled her, but at least the poor woman had stopped moving.
“It’s obvious,” Dr. Klein said impatiently. “The virus re-animated my clients. But it did not restore their brain function. In fact it took over. Those bodies have become one with the virus. That’s the simplest way I can explain it to you.”
“What about the other people?” Pamela asked. “I saw George, Enrico, and a handful of others. Enrico attacked me in the corridor, and I barely got away. George is bashing his head against the door but can’t seem to remember how to use the handle to open it.”
“The virus wants to spread, ” Dr. Klein said flatly. She spoke clearly, but dismissively, as if she were instructing a dull student. She was not even bothering to offer Pam her full attention but seemed engaged in a text conversation on her cell phone. “The infected attack the living. A bite spreads the virus. The wound must kill the host, and then the virus can reanimate the body.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Pamela said. “Now you’re telling me that these people have turned into zombies? Is that right? The virus spreads with a bite. The bite kills the host and then reanimates it. You have become the mother of a race of monsters!”
“You want to call them zombies?” Dr. Klein asked. She looked up from her cell phone and pursed her lips for a moment to consider the notion. “I don’t practice Voodoo, but simply science. If you like, we can call them the Zed. I believe I heard that in some old movie or another though I don’t typically watch that sort of thing.”
“You could’ve fooled me,” Pam muttered. She had spent the day thinking that her employer seemed like the creepy mad scientist in an old horror flick. Now her mildly diverting fancy had been confirmed in the worst possible way. Dr. Klein did not even seem fazed when Pam had told her that Enrico had turned into one of the creatures . Maybe she already knew.
The double doors did not have a window but now she was pretty sure that multiple bodies were heaving themselves against the barrier. The thumps were not at all rhythmic but they were steady. She stepped around the desk to put something between herself and the doorway. The doors did not even seem to be locked but simply shut securely. At any moment one of these mad creatures could accidently hit the handle and open it. Pam considered trying to shove the receptionist’s desk against the doors, but she was reluctant to disturb the bloody dead woman resting there.
Now Dr. Klein ruminated over the crisis more. “The virus must piggyback on some of the original host’s brain function. You observed them walking and trying to grab you. They can certainly walk and sense their victims somehow. But I’m quite sure that whatever made the people unique and sentient individuals is quite subsumed.”
“Is there a cure for this?”
“How would
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