Chapter 4

Laura awakes to bright sunshine streaming through the window, and sits up in the bed. She unwraps Julian's arm from around her waist and wiggles out of the space between him and Kiden, who has slept with her back facing her every night so far. She looks at Julian for a few moments and feels a sense of pity for him. He will probably have a harder time with this situation than either she or Kiden will…and then there's the fact that he's still holding a candle for her, even after all her attempts to dissuade him—both aggressively and gently. Nothing seems to work.

She sighs slightly and heads back to the window, through which she'd seen the figure in the dark last night. Unlike her companions, she has excellent night vision. Not in color…more of a gray scale image…but details are crystal-clear to her in darkness that would blind a normal human. And what she'd seen had disturbed her, very seriously.

The figure had been that of a woman, in about her thirties—perhaps a professor at the University, or part of the campus staff. Laura could not tell the color of her skin, but she could see that it was mottled, and that her eyes did not look right; they were swollen and—upon zooming in—very bloodshot, and coated with mucous. The pupils, very dilated to let in the dim light, darted back and forth in the manner of a predator. The irises were a pale color, probably blue or green. And her gait…she shuffled because her body was held very stiffly, very tightly, as if her muscles were trying to collapse her skeleton. As if she were not used to walking upright.

Her clothes were torn and splattered with a dark substance that Laura suspects was blood, as were her curving fingers. Those were absolutely saturated.

The street is now empty, except for sunlight and a piece of paper drifting on the wind. She feels that strange uneasiness again, the thought that there is more to this than meets the eye. She is more and more convinced that this is the Facility's doing, that this is somehow related to the experiments that created her.

The Facility was run by the government, she knows that much. The goal was to create a super soldier, an indestructible and ultimately obedient human; the final answer to modern warfare threats from China. She herself had been built to withstand nuclear fallout without additional protection. That had been thoroughly tested. Laura was only twelve years old when she escaped, and much of went on around her made no sense at the time, regardless of how bright she was…but her eidetic memory has allowed her to analyze all she'd seen and heard now, when she can understand it. And that's what she's been doing a lot in these last few days.

Mother was her creator, a geneticist named Dr. Sarah Kinney. She had learned much about mother from Debbie—Sarah's two-year-younger sister. Her aunt had explained that Sarah had left home when she was seventeen to escape their abusive father…and to attend UCLA on scholarship. Four years later, she had graduated with honors and a degree in Microbiology. She had gone on to obtain a doctorate, and then she had left town altogether. That was the last Debbie heard of her for ten years.

Then she had called one day—soon after Megan's birth—and the sisters had reconnected. Debbie learned of Laura, and a little of their circumstances, but never the full story. That Laura can fill in from her memories of her childhood, the earliest beginning at the age of two.

Sarah's job at the Facility was to design a super-soldier…but more than that, an easy to replicate super-soldier. Laura—more than anyone—knows her creation wasn't a simple process. It had taken the Facility a staff of approximately two hundred people and an entire complex to create one of her. Yes, she may be nigh invincible, and yes, she may be highly trained in the arts of killing and torture and survival, since that's all she had been taught since she could walk—to the point that she only knew what the sun was from a distant memory of something her mother had whispered into her ear on one of the rare nights she was allowed to visit her before she slept—but mass replication would be utterly impossible.

But a virus…a virus would allow for mass-replication on the scale needed to produce an army. A virus could be modified to target specific areas of the body. Of the brain. No, they wouldn't be that stupid, she tells herself firmly.

Laura tilts her head, gazing at the pavement and tensing muscles in her eyes to see it in finer detail. Dark red drops of dried blood. She cranes her neck slightly, looking up the road, following the drops as they become splatters and then pools…she inhales sharply.

Lying on the pavement is a carcass. A large, furry, black carcass. A black bear—quite a sizable one—absolutely gutted, from throat to beneath the belly. Its innards have spilled through the gap, or what's left of them anyways. Strands of intestines…fragments of liver…a smear of green that was probably a gallbladder…a cloud of flies circle this mess lazily. Laura, who is never sickened by anything she sees, who has won the interest of her teachers and lab TA's for her steady hand in dissections and her absolute detachment from corpses…feels mildly nauseated. Her eyebrows draw together.

Could a cougar have done this? She wonders, fingering the curtains beside the window. She's heard of cougars—and come to think of it, wolf packs—praying on black bear cubs, and occasionally elderly bears…but not on full-grown, healthy-looking adults. And that's what this animal had been: glossy fur, full size…a beautiful specimen. She is not an expert on wildlife, but she has done some studies on the species found in California for various Biology courses.

Somehow, she doubts that this is the case. Her instincts tell her that it had to do with the figure in the night, the blood-covered humanesque figure. She hears a noise from behind her and tenses, then relaxes; it's her companions, awaking. Julian at least. His heart is beating faster, and now he sits up.

"Laura?" he asks sleepily.

She glances over her shoulder at him, and wonders if she should conceal this discovery from him. She's sensed that he is, in general, growing increasingly close to panicking over the situation...and that's the last thing any of them needs. However…perhaps he needs to panic, to let it out. And then he can move on to contributing to their survival. She realizes—feeling strange—that this is the first time she has felt they might have to fight for that survival, rather than just ride out the waves of the contagion.

"Come here," she instructs.

He does as she says, moving to the window, rubbing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair in an absent way. She steps to the side and points. He looks up the road, and jumps when he sees the body of the bear. His eyes widen dramatically. "What the fuck," he says, his voice quickly losing its sleepy quality.

Laura says nothing, but looks at the bear again, her eyebrows drawn together. His reaction has somehow confirmed that her suspicions are right, perhaps because—unlike her—he has not seen things of this nature before. The scene is decidedly ghastly.

"Was it…" he looks at her. "Was it that thing we saw last night? That person?"

"I suspect so." She hesitates. "But I don't think that was a person."

Julian sneers slightly. "So you're agreeing with Crackpot over there now? It was a zombie?"

"I don't know." Laura frowns. "Please don't call Kiden that."

He looks out the window again, at the bear. "It can't be zombies. It can't. Laura…oh fuck…what if it's zombies? What the fuck are we gonna do? I don't know much about this kind of crap—I mean, I can shoot, Dad used to take us to a range when I was a kid…but zombies?"

"Julian," she says, reaching out and laying her hand gently on his shoulder. "Breathe."

He closes his eyes and does as instructed—his first breath after about a minute—through his nose…and she can hear his heart begin to slow. The scent of his adrenaline on the air begins to decline, and he nods slightly. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Laura looks down, thinking of Mother. Tell her I said you are my daughter and you need her protection. That you will be pursued by very bad people.

What if she isn't the one that needed Debbie's protection, but rather Debbie who would need her protection because the bad people wouldn't pursue her, in particular? Instead, they would come on as an undefeatable and unfeeling army. She raises her eyes and sees the black bear's rotting carcass again…and pictures Debbie lying like that. Or Megan. Or Kira. Her eyebrows draw together, her mouth dry. "I need to find my family," she says firmly.

"What, are you crazy?" Julian grips her shoulders. "You can't go out there."

She raises her chin. "I have to. I have to protect them."

"You're just a girl, Laura," he says. "I don't mean to be sexist…but who's going to protect you?"

Laura says nothing, but her look doesn't waver.

"And the virus," he says. "It's still out there. I can't let you get sick."

"Let me?" She shakes her head. "Julian—you don't control me."

"But you said it yourself. We're allies now…and I think we're going to be friends," he says. "I don't want you to get hurt. I…I care about you." He frowns. "Do you know what I'll feel like if you didn't make it back?"

"Probably the same way I would feel if my cousins end up like that bear." She nods toward the carcass. "I grew up with them. They are like my sisters. I can't let anything happen to them."

"Your aunt raised you?" he asks, surprised. "Your mother didn't—"

"She is dead." Laura frowns at him. "I don't like talking about it…to anyone." She adds the last part because he seems disappointed. It makes her pity him again.

"Look." He squeezes her shoulders. "Call them again. Wait with us. And then…in a couple of days like you said…when the air should be safe…we'll go. All of us, together. We can get all of our families, okay?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Even Kiden's family?"

He nods, his forehead wrinkled. "Especially Kiden's. If anyone needs parental guidance…it's her."

Laura smiles slightly, despite herself. "Okay," she says.

…

"See? See? I told you! I told you! ZOMBIES!"

"Shut up, Kiden!" Julian snaps. About a minute ago, they had seen the most incredible report on the epidemic yet: a video clip of the city of Denver, taken from a helicopter. The camera shook violently in the man's hands, and over the sound of the chopper blades, his whispers could be heard. In this situation any attempt at professionalism in the field had been abandoned.

"Holy mother of God," he whispered, as he saw—through the camera's lens—what his audience would see. The streets were moving, slowly moving, full of the creatures that Laura, Julian and Kiden had seen through the upstairs window last night. As the camera man panned, his lens focused on what looked like a dog—a retriever of some sort—running down a small side street, barking. The sound was barely audible up in the helicopter, but down on the ground it must have echoed, because suddenly the creatures were not moving slowly. They began to run, first in shuffling, awkward steps…and then some crouched to the ground to leap on all fours.

The dog was torn into small bloody chunks, quickly consumed by the mob of creatures. The camera shook especially hard when a loop of intestine flew into the air. "Yea..th-though I walk through the valley of the sh-shadow of death, I will fear no—" the camera man began to pray, but then the helicopter lurched to the side very violently, and the video became scrambled. Before it cut off, a distant shouting voice could be heard: "HOLY FUCK—IT JUMPED RIGHT ON—"

And then the screen turned to static. The FOX newscaster returned in a few moments, her face white as a sheet.

"Those are not zombies," Julian argues, as if this is very important. "Those are some kind of—of—well, I don't know what the hell they are, but they certainly aren't your run of the mill zombie."

"No," Laura agrees, her eyebrows drawn together. "Those are not zombies, Kiden. They are something far worse."

"Close enough," Kiden says smugly. "So…seeing as I'm this group's zombie apocalypse expert, I think I should be the leader—"

"Jesus, Kiden. I would rather sacrifice myself as bait than have you lead us!" Julian looks to Laura. "If anyone leads…I vote for her…seeing as she's the one who was smart enough to make us prepare."

"But—I've been preparing my whole life!" Kiden protests. "I even have a weapons cache."

Laura looks at her. "That could be useful. What do you have?"

"Tons," Kiden says. "Stakes…hunting knives…I even managed a few pistols and one automatic rifle…had to be careful, though. I don't have a gun permit."

"You brought this all into my house?!" Julian demands. "God…you're even more insane than I figured!"

"Of course not!" Kiden snaps. "It's back in the dorms. I didn't want to tell anyone until I knew shit was going down."

"Well, that's helpful," he retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Only have to cover a half-mile of zombie-infested campus with fuck-all to defend us with to get the weapons."

"Hey!" Kiden protests, then she grins. "Hah—you called them zombies!"

"Kiden…Julian…please, stop it." Laura sighs. "We'll recover the stash in…let's plan for two days. The virus should have passed the campus by then."

"Laura…we can't leave here," Julian protests.

"But what about the plan to recover our families?" she asks.

"That was before I saw one of those things take down a fucking helicopter," he says. "We won't stand a chance against them."

Laura hesitates. "Yes, we will. I will."

The others stare at her, and she looks down. "I don't want to explain myself…please don't make me. But I…I heal instantly from any wound…and I have these." She makes fists—and Julian takes a step back as she releases her claws. SNIKT!

"What the—" he stares at them. "You….what are you?"

SNAKT! as she retracts her claws again. "I told you that I don't want to explain myself. All that's important is that I can defend us."

"It was the government, wasn't it?!" Kiden exclaims.

Laura remains silent.

"Leave her alone," Julian says. "She doesn't want to tell us. Fine. And she's right—all that matters right now is getting through this." He pauses. "I still don't like the idea of you fighting those things, Laura."

"Maybe they are not widespread in LA yet," Laura says. "In that case…we should definitely leave in the two-day timeframe."

"And come back here?" Julian asks. "My little one-bedroom might be great for us…but if we find our families…maybe we should head for my home…my real home in Hollywood…the last, and set up camp there. My home is a mansion…ten bedrooms…a storage cellar…"

"That sounds good," Laura agrees.

"Fine by me," Kiden says.

"Good." Julian turns and heads into the kitchen, deciding that it's time for them to eat. As he does, he hears a noise, coming from the door. He freezes in his tracks, and focuses on the sound. After a few moments he sees that the cause of this is the doorknob twisting back and forth—and scraping against the bookcase they've pressed up against the door.

"Laura," he mouths.

She is at his side in an instant, her eyes immediately on the door. "Julian…take Kiden upstairs," she whispers.

He shakes his head, and looks around the room for a likely weapon. His eyes settle on the knife block in the corner. Moving toward it, he selects the largest, sharpest one possible. Laura gives him a reproachful look, but he shakes his head. "Not leaving you alone."

"What's up?" Kiden asks, coming to stand behind Laura.

The latter nods to the door.

"Shit," her roommate remarks. "And me with no weapon."

"We've got it covered," Julian says. "Go upstairs."

"And let you two have all the fun?! Fuck that—there must be something else I can use." She pauses, digs in her pocket and pulls out a Swiss army knife, then pops the corkscrew attachment out. "There we go. Remember…aim for the brain. Nothing else with stop a zombie."

"For the last freakin' time," Julian whispers. "These are not zombies."

"I do not hear a heartbeat," Laura murmurs.

He pauses. "So…"

"I think Kiden might be right. Without a heartbeat…without circulating blood...how could any other kind of wound cause mortal damage?" She looks at Julian. "Aim for the head."

They all wait in tense anticipation. A bead of sweat rolls down Julian's nose. Laura can hear three sets of heartbeats, beating quickly: Julian's, Kiden's and hers. The doorknob continues to wiggle back and forth. And then…she hears a ragged, breathy sound…and slow, dragging footsteps as whatever it is lurches away from the door and back into the street.

All three take a deep breath in relief. No one speaks for about a minute. Then Julian looks at her, frowning. "Wait a minute—you can hear heartbeats?"

She closes her eyes and nods. "I have…abilities. One of them is enhanced senses."

He raises his eyebrows. "So…you're like a superhero?" There is doubt in his voice.

Laura smiles, despite herself. "Not quite."

"Can you see through walls?" Kiden asks, a little less doubtfully.

She shakes her head, then pauses. "I can see in the dark though."

Julian takes a deeper breath. "Can you…can you fly?" he asks.

Laura turns her eyes to him. Something about his tone is full of desire. She senses that this is a secret wish of his. "I'm sorry…but no." She looks at him. "I do not have super-strength either. But I can protect you from these creatures if you do as I say."

He hesitates, then nods slightly, to indicate that he believes her and will not stand in her way.

"Good." She directs her gaze on the door. "If we plan to stay here any longer…then I think we should reinforce any entrance to the house…including the upstairs window. They can leap very high, as we saw in the news report."

"Crazy," Julian says. "You'd never guess it to look at them."

Laura raises her eyebrow. "Many things are not as they seem."

"Guess so," Kiden remarks. "Here I thought you were just a dumb cheerleader…and you turn out to be a brainy science nerd with super-powers."

"We are all special in our own way." Laura moves into the living room, and they set to reinforcing the entrances.