Last Chance |Day 66 After Virus Release|

Anneka

Acid saliva burns through my bag, then my preparations of food, a two-way radio device, and water. My instincts to sling my bag off my back to cover my front saved me. More zombies start to shoot splashes out of their changed mouths and the straight trajectory is frightening. That’s what the evolution is for? Bite strength or even bite size seemed more likely. The additional liquid seeping into my bag cruelly hisses and howls finally eating all the way to the straps I grip. All I have left after is one glove wrapped around my hand. The material struggles to displace the reaction, yet it finally fizzles. What would have happened if it had reached my skin? The virus must be in this fired saliva as well. Yes, but. Focus. Take in new information to dispatch and lead the zombies away from Lex and the facility.

Sprinting down the corridor feet away from the outside, I think back to yesterday when we first saw the black letters imprinted into the building reading, Pacific Research Institute. Looking at the orientation of windows and the architecture’s purpose, features, and design, Lex determined that there are three floors and an underground level to the complex. The zombies wandering around were strange and changed with protruding mouth cavities. “Do you think that this is a helpful mutation?” I asked Lex.

“It would not be unthinkable. Changed anatomy or symptoms could have some relation to what the virus does to their bodies.”

“Are we going to have some opportunity to find the specifics ahead of assaulting the building? We are running out of time, and it seems like they have a grouped-up movement behavior. Isolating one to test seems unlikely or disastrous.”

“Do what you think is best. I’ll be going inside and securing the entrances of the building. We do not have enough time to move the incubators back to our base, so I will need to establish local power before we start researching in the building.”

I wrestle with my beating heart as I open the door to the institute. Are there any zombies awaiting me? My watch timed five minutes since Anneka started to yell. Ideally, everyone should be gone. If I find anyone inside the only plan is to run. Which doesn’t raise confidence. The plan and execution are shaky. We’ve lost the favor of calculations for speed in a time of pressure. Stepping in, I swivel my head vigilantly. A zombie could emerge from any of these corners or hints of dark. This situation is crushing, but I know I am making it worse too. I feel overstretched, having to live with it. Not that it should be easy to live with ending someone’s life. I find that the potential truth is even worse. I don’t know how many people were part of that hulking zombie. Surely for all those people, I could have done something else? I want that to be a potential reality, yet according to all the science I know, it is without doubt that there is no way to separate and rescue the people deeply and organically formed in that mass. I discovered that no reason or rationalization I make light of from science or logic can soothe my aching. Once more, I sternly shrug off the thoughts, thinking in the present is the only way through. I’ll believe in the present in spite of fearing the past and future.

Listening and advancing consciously for indicative sounds, I make my way to the underground level by descending the staircase. Earlier, I checked around for outside generators, but there were none, so this is the only answer. The backup power generator should be turned on here, even though it is a potentially unsafe placement in the basement. I am unsure why the engineers did not follow the building regulations and customs of architecture during its construction in the 2020s. At the bottom of the stairs I almost step into a seeping source of water looking to be a foot high. It can’t be from rain. Perhaps, then the sewers failed after improper management? The color of the liquid matches that expectation. I stare longer. Hmmm. It is surely dangerous water carrying the virus. 

I make my way back and check lockers for work equipment. Most are locked and the ones that aren’t are filled with lab coats and jackets. Checking the footlockers, I finally found some tall rubber boots. After checking for weakness, I slot them on and head back. I make my way fully into the nonlit room. Using my flashlight to navigate, I get to the generator and examine the switches. Ok, the primary emergency switch. I go to grip the handle and it isn’t till I take hold that I question if the power system is going to work in a flooded basement and what will happen to my body and surroundings if it does work in a flooded basement. Ok, analyze the circuitry and electronics. If the generator itself is submerged, then it could explode on startup or be pre-damaged. A devastating outcome. I take a look, and the generator is clearly above the water with all of the chords going upstairs, hugging or sneaking into the walls away from the danger. I started to check if there were any outlets or surge protectors in the walls soaked with water. The whole electrical system is connected and water seeping in can cause short circuits and a disruption to the normal flow. I move my light verifying the status of the room. I need to be thorough, but I know I am not really safe in this dangerous territory. Satisfied, I get ready to pull down. Even if there is some loose electricity that makes its way into this pool of water, my rubber boots should ward it off.

The ignition pops and fires on. A slow hum begins along with clicks. A single light glows ever faintly in the room now. Distinctly, I hear mechanical gears churning, rotations, and sliding motions from above. Reacting, I move quickly and get to the mouth of the stairs to the ground floor. Was it this floor or one higher? I examine how the sectioned off room to the right of the stairs that was covered with a solid metal door is now clear. The electronic motor above the door was spurred on and the door moved to its side. Why is that activated with the emergency power plan? It is now my mind is rapidly unleashed. There are shaking hands and then the full body inches in front of my chest. The zombie’s movements must have activated the door. How did I let this happen? I can’t even notice the details in front of me? The small inches of allowance in this hallway instinctually feel like not enough to make way in any direction for my life. Still, at this moment, I could make the move. It would be ever close if I dive. So my life comes down to a display of chance. I won’t indulge it. I won’t let down Anneka again.

I fall and scurry backward down the stairs. I make it to the bottom and enter the center of the wet room. Maybe there are two seconds until the loner greets me too. Enough time to feel claustrophobic and convinced death is coming. The glowing ceiling light that struggled to stay on sparkles out. I allow out foul words. Zombies have their sense of smell at close range. Humans have an extreme fear and weakness in the unknown dark. Not ready for what is next, I hear the unnerving, new muddling of the water, yet no voice or groans of the zombie. It is still uncertain why zombies don't make sounds. I hypothesize it is to make them silent hunters. It surely reinforces how inhuman they are.

In the tired blackness, I flick my flashlight on. In this situation, I cannot move quickly to escape at any time and risk soaking myself with water. An unacceptable viral risk. I also cannot back up or move in any direction in the dark because I could trip on loose objects or obstructions and end up submerged. I need to balance projecting my flashlight forward and backward. Of course, this is not enough light in complete darkness. When l move in any direction besides forward, I’ll be blind to the zombie. I need to fill in the gaps by referencing the sound of the water and footsteps factoring in the sound cues in relation to where I stand in the room. I step backward, but the zombie gains. Kill It. Strange instincts from the circumstances make their way into my head. No, I won’t murder an innocent that can be saved. I also cannot accept the injustice of failing and letting this blameless person murder me as well. It is wrong to let them become a killer not of their conscious accord. Above all, I want to prove that nonviolence is achievable for Fion and maybe myself. I will never cross that line. The undeniable proof is to lead.

The only thing left I can do is stop its movement. We ran out of rope ammo, so I had to pin him down with something in the room. Somehow dancing the light around, in the very corner I see a foldable table. My best chance. I trudge along toward it looking mostly backwards. My hearing registers the zombie as dead on close. I jam the flashlight in my mouth and take hold of the furniture with both of my hands. I throw the heavy body of the table onto the silhouette of sound. Then I advance. With my only chance, I don’t even want to waste time looking back. My bare back feels nervous and hunted as the zombie’s movement starts again. Freeing myself from water at the stairs, I run up. Securing the ground levels is impossible now. I have to start at the second level of the building. I force open the door and slam my weight to keep it closed. Right behind there is repeated banging and gasping. When it quiets down and registers 30 uninterrupted seconds, I sprint and haul a desk and chair barricading the door. Yet there is still more silence, what could the zombie be doing? I test the weight of my barrier and add more metal furniture anyway.

I search the second floor’s rooms carefully looking for the staircase to the third floor and incubators. Before in planning, we kept in mind that there was likely some basic equipment in this building already, like microscopes and machines for DNA preparation. To account for what could be missing Anneka and I made sure to bring or leave nearby the unguaranteed acquisitions like the tools to deliver and modify the viruses directly. Blitzing each room, I stuff what I still need in the bag and trek up to the third floor looking for the precious equipment. Scanning through, I realize this is where they placed the most expensive equipment which outshines what I’ve brought. Among everything are the incubators. Primary mission success. Secondarily, the building is mostly secure. I’ll send Anneka a message. A few days ago, we found these two close-range radio transceivers. I keep making attempts by clicking mine on the side, but I never reach Anneka. I pace around the windows of the third floor again and again looking to see any changes or a human figure. By chance, I see Anneka early, running toward where we met up at the start of the operation, about a hundred feet away from the building. I see that she isn’t carrying anything, but a staff in her hand. She must have lost her radio while fighting or running. Think! I sync my eyes shut.

 I have no idea how long Anneka is going to stay in this convenient spot. Maybe ten minutes at the least; by then, I have to come up with a new way to establish two-way communication to warn Anneka of the dangerous zombie on the ground floor or underground floor. No, the objective is faulty. One way of communication is good enough in this situation. I need to impart important information, and potentially so does Anneka, but above all, she needs to know my situation and location first. The only solution is modern, but still accomplishable throughout many of humanity's ages. My choice is paper. A paper airplane can deliver the message over long distances like a messenger hawk could in past eras. I’ll write a simple warning then update and fold a design based on the current state of the wind and the distance it needs to travel. Wedging a window open, I judge said wind for a minute. Next, I note the feel of the paper’s texture, strength, and flexibility as I calculate the initial force and path to give the plane. While creasing the paper I do every rational mental estimation of the wind’s variance. Close but still unfinished, my count reaches 540. Time churns. I breathe in and focus folding together the last side. With no leeway left, I fatefully throw the complete contraption; the longer we lack communication, the higher the chance our glass plan could melt or shatter. This needs to work, it is hard to know if there will be enough time for another plane. I watch the piece of paper glide and dip through the air. At the danger and variance points it looks like it is going down on a crash course to the ground, but the wind lifts up the body as planned. It makes a good pace dodging around the city buildings’ world and drops off, poking Anneka in the head. Oops. Well. That is one good path.

I should not have put my radio in the bag. What a mistake. Even if I knew the zombies had saliva, in almost every scenario storing it in a bag is less safe than storing it on my body. Midway through my thoughts, I catch the sound of a light wisp in the air and then a tiny point taps on my head. My instinct wasn’t worried about something so harmless. I hold the paper up like a living being. 

Oh. So there is tiny writing on it. This is the solution to needing to meet up with Lex. Only one zombie on the ground floor and the approximate location. Simple, I’ll lead it away like the rest of the zombies. If I lead it to the designated building it will stay in the same spot due to herd behavior. I already led the zombies from before and netted the majority of them to the location. They follow the largest fraction instead of wandering aimlessly, so if I lead this one close to the group, it will stay there as well. The letter says that afterward, I should go into the building, give the signal and continue Lex with starting and setting up the research. I drop my staff and ready my circle metal garbage can top shield to dodge and lead away an acid zombie across the distance. For some reason, though, I do not feel worried anymore; I feel like I am already there, starting the research process with Lex. The last zombie was unable to stop us from securing the building and readying the premises for modifications.