The Zombie Virus

I

         "This is Tamara Van Sant reporting from Washington D.C. I am in front of the White House awaiting the arrival of the members of the National Security Council. They are expected at any moment to meet with the president about the extreme elevation by the Department of Homeland Security of the Homeland Security Advisory System to orange. The orange threat level means there is a high risk of terrorist attacks. And here is the National Security Advisor now."

         The reporter joined the mass of other reporters and film crew swarming to opening door of a limousine. Secret service agents barricaded them, but were unable to keep the microphones from the military man's face. The reporters all shouted different versions of the same question, yelling loudly to be the one heard and therefore being able to take credit for eliciting the answer. They were all disappointed when the important man spoke.

         "I have no comment at this time, except to advise everyone that the threat level is now orange and all precautions that are advised under this level are to be taken by each individual. When we have all the facts and a plan in place to counter the threat or threats, we will hold a press conference to announce this. Thank you."

         He then followed the battering ram that was his security detail through the reporters to his destination.

         The reporter turned to face the camera. "There you have it. Confirmation that there is indeed a valid threat to our nation's security. We will continue to follow this story as it unfolds. Back to you Robert in New York."

         The television picture changed to a desk on the set of the world's premier news authority. A man and woman with plastic good looks and expensive business attire stared in a practiced manner at the camera facing them. The man spoke in a calm and clipped voice.

         "Thank you Tamara. Stay tuned to PNN for the latest as this becomes the lead story for the United States media. On the lighter side, we have a woman in Arkansas who claims her cattle have been eaten by werewolves during the night..."



         It started with a bump.

         Jason Gross noticed it as he shaved early one November morning. He almost missed it. The bump was the size of a baby pea; almost imperceptible. Tucked under his earlobe, the redness was what caught his attention. He winced as he rubbed it with a forefinger. The probing touch sending a minor yet sharp pain through his head and jaw.

         "Damned spiders," he muttered to himself in the mirror. Living in his old house in the country had its advantages, however, the multitudes of spiders was not one of them. Their bites were an irritant that one craving the solitude must tolerate.

         Jason spent the day tending to his property. He never referred to it as a farm, refusing to completely give up his former metropolitan mindset. He owned a few goats and reaped a small harvest of grains and vegetables, but his income was based on the residuals of investments that had allowed his early retirement at age forty just three years ago.

         After the day's rigors, he cleaned himself up and prepared a steak dinner. He set the table for two, despite the fact no one would be joining him. He always did this. It was the only way he had to remember Jenny.

         Jenny was killed almost four years previous in the fire that also claimed every possession of theirs in the riverside condo. The fire that eventually caused his retirement and self-imposed exile from humanity.

         The baked potato and vegetable medley remained untouched on his plate. The steak was consumed, fat and all, the faint traces of blood still running along the edges of the dish. Jason wondered at this. He never ate his meat any other way but well done. For some reason, he had opted for medium rare tonight.

         He slept restlessly that evening. Dreams of blood and slaughter filled his subconscious vision until he woke in a drenching cold sweat. The clock on the nightstand read five a.m.

         He went to the bathroom to run cold water on his face. He looked at his still dazed expression in the mirror as the first handfuls of water ran from his fingers. He opened them to wipe the redness from the corners of his mouth. Dried blood. Apparent leftovers from the steak the night before. His facial inspection also uncovered a more disturbing anomaly. The bump had grown. It now was less a bump than a welt. It ran from his ear to his neck and had swelled to the diameter of a small snake.

II

         "This is Jameer Marcus reporting for PNN. There has been a disturbing trend of violence and murder across the country in recent days. Local authorities nationwide have been reporting a close to three hundred percent increase in violent crimes and murder victims being torn to shreds," he looked down at the script in his hands and blinked hard in incredulousness. "New information is suggesting that many of these victims have missing body parts and flesh. Rumors that this is connected to the DHS latest threat level elevation have been swirling all over Washington and is expected to be addressed at news conference scheduled in three days by the National Security Council."



         "I cannot say for certain Mr. Gross, but I suspect you have some sort of allergic reaction that is causing the skin irritation," Dr. Jacobsen said. "Have you been using any new detergents or soaps? Perhaps, tried something new in your diet?"

         "No Doc. I am a creature of habit and nothing has changed in those habits," Jason replied, although thinking to himself about the steak two nights before.

         "Nevertheless, I am just going to take a sample to send for some tests," the doctor produced a small syringe as he said this. When the syringe neared the mass on Jason's neck, the mass moved. Jacobsen started in surprise. After a moment of recovery, he inserted the syringe and removed a minute blood sample. He bagged and labeled it for processing at the lab.

         "We should have the results back in a few days. My office will contact you when we have them."

         Jason found it impossible to continue his normal daily routines. Each morning, when he woke up, he found his body stiffer than the day before. It was as if his body was dehydrated all the time. He was constantly hungry, but only for the meat in his freezer. He was unable to even wait for it to finish cooking, his hunger ate at him so fiercely. He woke and retired to bed later and later each day. Sunlight burned his eyes when he ventured outdoors, so he had begun to confine himself to the house until the sun set. The welt had become much worse. He could feel it all the way down his back. It did not itch, but instead felt as if a small stream of electricity was moving through it. What he could see of it on his neck and chest throbbed with movement.

         On the third night after his trip to the doctor, Jason wandered his property. He found the darkness exhilarating. The moonlight was his new sun.

         A voice. Jason whirled around towards the sound. He could see nothing.

         Another voice. He whirled again and barely caught a glimpse of movement. He moved towards it, but heard another voice, as if whispering in his ear. No longer a murmur. "Eat. Hunger. Blood. Flesh."

         The voices were all around him. Slowly, ethereal mists began to form. A faint unearthly glow surrounded them as they coalesced into humanoid shapes. They seemed to float, faceless beings on a plane not their own. Their insistences continued to infiltrate Jason's consciousness. "Eat. Hunger. Blood. Flesh."

         A rustling from the goat shed. The goats all started bleating. Rarely vocal after dark, their bleats turned to near screams. Fear had gripped them. Jason moved towards the shed, lumbering with his stiff body. The mists closed around him as he neared. Their voices intensifying in his head, driving him near mad yet comforting him with their acknowledgment of his primal need.

         He unbolted the shed's door and the goats all pushed out an urgency bred of their fear. He caught the last one by the horns. He twisted with all his might and felt the satisfaction of the neck breaking. He jumped on the corpse as soon as it hit the ground and began gorging on its still warm flesh and blood. All humanity left his mind as he fed the uncontrollable hunger that engulfed his whole being.



         "Are you doing autopsies in your little town, now Dr. Jacobsen?" the voice on the other line asked with slight amusement.

         "Of course not, Lisa," he replied.

         "Then you are playing a joke on our laboratory?" the humor was much less distinct on the other end of the phone line.

         "I assure you that I would do no such thing. What in the world are you talking about? Spit it out, Lisa. I have a lot of patients waiting for me."

         "Doctor, the sample you sent us is from a corpse."

         "It is not from a corpse. I retrieved it myself from a living, breathing human being. He was talking to me in my office as I took it. Are you telling me you let the sample spoil?"

         "No doctor. The sample was in no way compromised. It not only came from a corpse, but from a corpse that has been dead for a number of days," she shot back. "And the tech who ran the tests also noticed that a parasite had moved into the blood and was feeding upon it and seems to have been for all those days."

III

         ""The Department of Homeland Security received credible information last week of an imminent threat to our nation security from a terrorist organization with strong ties to Al Queda," the president orated from the podium on the White House lawn. "We now believe the attack has been commenced and we are even now being affected by an, as yet, unknown biological weapon. I will pass the podium to members of the World Health Organization and the Centers for Disease Control later to explain what they know at this time." He paused to let the murmur from the press pool subside.

         "The Homeland Security Advisory System is now at red, I repeat, red. Citizens are advised to stay in their homes unless absolutely necessary. I will be taking no questions from the media at this time, but will make myself available in due time. I now turn the mic over to Dr Anthony Samuels of the WHO..."



         The being that was once Jason Gross wandered, aimlessly. He no longer had any ties to the human he once was. His whole existence was driven by the need to feed. He did not wander alone. The mists followed him, enveloping him . Their insistent voices no longer prodded him. He had become as they. A castoff of the afterlife. Along with the mists came the lumbering corpses of the goats he had feasted on. They had little flesh attached to them and what little flesh there remained was covered with slithering welts. When the being that was Jason Gross fed, they ate the flesh and drank the blood with him.

         He stopped when he reached where the woods opened up for a dirt road to pass through. The being sniffed the air and moaned as the scent of living blood reached his deteriorating nostrils. He lumbered towards the food.

         The mists surrounded the victim. A young woman from a neighboring farm. She panicked for no reason apparent to the human eye. She spun in circles, searching for a direction that she could run. Since there was no visual threat, she had no idea where was safe. She stumbled and fell to the ground. The being lumbered to and collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the cold dirt of the road. He tore into her jugular with his rotting teeth.

         The parasites came out of the welts on his body. Long centipede-like creatures entered the wound even as the being and the goats ate.

IV

         "We have now positively isolated the Zombie Virus. It is actually a parasite that attacks all major systems in the human body. It kills it slowly as it uses it to spread to other hosts," the president bowed his head as he continued the solemn address. "Due to the outbreak status it has reached, I am forced to declare martial law for the entire contiguous forty eight states of the country. Citizens are to stay in their homes unless otherwise directed by the National Reserve troops. Food and survival supplies will be delivered on an as needed basis. Anyone that violates the mandate will be arrested. Any resistance will be met with immediate execution. I will now take questions from the press."



         The 'possession beetles' were a creation by both Iranian scientists and Muslim clerics. An abomination born by the combination of science and religion. The parasite was driven by the need for blood and the desires of the ethereal.

         Introduced into the United States by a terrorist organization, they swiftly spread through the population and back into Europe, Asia, and ultimately, back to their originators in the Middle East. The world's population lost close to four billion people before the parasites died off. Humanities only saving grace was that without transference within seven days, the parasite died. Non discriminatory towards man or animal, it became the one true unification for world peace.