Deceptive perception

“- in the numerous infected hotspots. On a lighter note, today is the fiftieth birthday of president Alfred Sunderland, the man who bravely fought the disease that, until recently held the world in its tight grip. Several world leaders have congratulated –“

“Bullshit.”, Frank mumbled. He quickly turned the radio off and took a long drag from the cigarette that was clenched in the corner of his mouth.

With a deep sigh he walked over to the small, dirty window that barely filtered the light from outside. He cussed when he bumped his knee against the sharp corner of the coffee table. He couldn’t turn his ass or he would knock something over in this shoebox he called his apartment. Or at least, that’s what his good-for-nothing nephew called it when he sold it for several cases of beer.

This place still smelled like something was rotting away. Maybe a cat or a dog trapped between the walls... or something larger. Frank swore that he occasionally heard something scratching and thumping: as if it was trying to escape. But was it alive or undead? That was the only question that mattered these days and the chance of a possible infection was the worst case scenario.

His nephew mysteriously disappeared when he developed a nasty wet cough a few weeks ago. Could he have contracted it here? Frank had absolutely no hope for his nephew to return nor did he care. Not even in the slightest. The sad truth is, Frank stopped caring about people a long time ago. Nobody was safe from his indifference.

Even the old lady that was dragged out of her apartment and clubbed to death by soldiers who claimed that she was infected. Even the little girl that was raped by the same soldiers shortly afterwards. He could still hear their perverted grunts and moans and jokes about saving mankind. Their resurrected bodies were found roaming near a pig farm three miles from here.

Frank never talked about it to anyone. Like he should.

Frank didn’t know why or when he got so detached from reality, but his best guess was when he saw his wife as one of the living dead. He saw her stumbling around the corner like a drunk. Her clothes were reduced to nothing but filthy tatters. Her body emaciated and ravaged by the virus. But the thing that shocked him the most was her once angelic face. Her cheeks were gnawed off and revealed bloodstained teeth that didn’t stop chopping at him until a bullet penetrated her brain.

His hand trembled slightly when he squeezed the trigger and saw Kathryn falling like a rag doll.

That’s when things started to get too real for him. He heard about the reanimated corpses and he saw footage of them on the television, but when you encounter one in real life and it happens to be someone you loved, you can’t help but see things in another perspective. When she first got sick, it never occurred to them that it was the killer virus that was supposed to run rampant across the globe. But when her symptoms were growing more intense, he knew. Life was so different after Kathryn’s death.

No more sweet and gentle kisses. No more relaxed evenings at the lake. No more solace and comfort of a gentle embrace.

The screeching doorbell made Frank snap back to reality. He carefully opened the window, not wanting to break it, and flung his cigarette outside. He grabbed his gun from the nightstand, hid it underneath his shirt and shuffled to the front door. You can never be too careful. He carefully looked through the peephole and saw a scruffy teenager standing nervously in the hallway. He constantly stared at the exit and his watch. The boy rang once more.

“Hold your horses.”, Frank yelled and opened the door to a crack. Just big enough to make eye contact, but too small for possible friends to suddenly burst inside. “What do you want?”, he asked as he was still assessing the kid in front of him.

“They... they eh, told me you sell things.”, the teenager said with a slight tremor in his voice.

“What kind of stuff?”, Frank replied, silently amusing himself with the behavior of his young visitor.

“Well, you know. Pills.”

“Pills?”

“Yeah, to cure the zombie bug.”

There was that word again. Frank never liked when people called them zombies. Although they most certainly fit the description of dead people walking and eating the flesh of the living, it was still too strange for Frank to call them zombies. It made him feel like he’s playing in a horror movie. He still wasn’t too sure about the intentions of the boy, but he could be a delivery boy. Collecting stuff for his rich bosses that are safe and far away inside their bunkers and fortified palaces, stuffing their faces with all the remaining riches in the world. Of course they could not be seen in these kind of area’s, so they hire kids to do the job for them.

“Do you have money?”, Frank sighed after a brief moment of silence and he opened the door further.

“Uh, yeah sure.”, the boy said and revealed an envelope out of his jacket.

“Come in and take a seat.”

“Thanks.”

As Frank went to the kitchen, the teenager cautiously sat on the big, brown couch that looked like he had seen a lot in its life. The leather was faded and torn in several places and sections tape marked the spots where a large hole had been. Frank could hear the couch squeak loudly as teenager shifted his weight.

“Nice place you have here.”, the boy said.

Frank only replied with a grunt.

“Catch.”, Frank yelled and he threw a small bottle at his guest.

The boy examined the bottle and opened it. He sniffed it and took a pill out of it. Frank took a sip from his beer and rolled his eyes when he heard the boy reading the description out loud with great difficulty. Education is no priority anymore since the shit has hit the fan. The only thing that mattered was to survive and to prevent infection. Unfortunately, it caused a lot of awkward situations with the younger mostly illiterate generation. Except for the rich kids of course. They were taught by the smartest heads of the world. Trained to rebuild the world some day.

“Give me that.”, Frank muttered as he yanked the bottle out of the boy’s hands. “It says: Reinforces the immune system and suppresses the symptoms and side effects of infection. Do not exceed the stated dose of three pills per day. Consulate your physician when the pills does not have the desired effect.”

The boy stared sheepishly at Frank as he read text on the label of the bottle. Frank finished his beer, winked and gave the bottle back to him.

“I can’t blame you for being stupid. What’s your name?”, Frank asked.

“Thomas.”, the boy replied as he examined the bottle further.

“Thomas.”, Frank said as he sat next to him on the couch and laid a hand on his shoulder. Frank could feel the bones of Thomas’ shoulder. It made him shiver slightly. It was like touching a skeleton or a mummified zombie. “Who sent you?”

“You know I can’t answer that question.”, Thomas replied.

“Fair enough, fair enough. Can I see the money?”

Thomas gave the envelope to Frank who immediately opened it. Frank kept one eye on Thomas and on the money. It wasn’t uncommon for the delivery boys to attack or kill the suppliers and to walk away with the entire supply of medicine. Some employers wanted to make sure that every connection with “The Lower World” was severed as quick as possible. The money looked legit and in mint condition. The amount even exceeded his expectations. Looks like he had a new costumer. With a quick and satisfied nod, he stuck the envelope in his trouser pocket.

“You know your way out.”, Frank said and he pointed at the door.

Thomas nodded and hid the bottle in his dirty jacket. He stood up with a sigh and walked towards the door.

“You know.’, he said. “He told me that you would get straight to the point. Always business. Never socializing. Never mixing with other people. The perfect dealer.”

“Who said that? Your boss?”

Thomas nodded once more. “I had to give you this.”, he said and he threw an old Polaroid photograph at Frank who immediately froze as soon as he saw it.

“You know who that is don’t you?”, Thomas now said in a more confident voice.

“Is that? Is that?”, Frank stuttered.

“Yep, that’s your daughter. Your daughter that was supposed to have died during the initial outbreak eight years ago. The daughter you abandoned and left in the hands of the soldiers who were more than eager to cap her ass or worse.”

“Worse?”, Frank said with teary, bloodshot eyes.

“Tell me, have you ever heard of The Red Light District? Not that sleazy part of , I mean the elite club downtown.”

Frank nodded, but in his mind he was trying to puzzle it all together. He saw his daughter getting bitten by several zombies. They were tugging at her, moaning and scratching at her. He saw blood, he heard her scream but he never saw her die. He never saw her fall on the ground. He only heard the zombies approaching them. He only saw their soulless eyes staring at him and drooling with desire. He saw them growing in numbers. He was too scared to do anything. Anything except running with his wife who still shouted her name as he dragged her with him. Maria. He never knew that there were soldiers around. He never thought that...

“If you want to see your daughter again, I’d advice you to listen carefully.”, Thomas said and retrieved a gun from his jacket.

Fuck. He should have never trusted him. He seemed to gullible. Even for a rookie. Nobody in their right mind is so gullible these days. He should have trusted his instinct.

“Your gun.”, He said with a stern voice. “Or did you think I never noticed it tucked away there? And don’t try anything. I’ll shoot you before you can squeeze your trigger.”

Frank handed over his gun and slowly raised his hands in the air.

“What- what do you want? Do you want the pills? I can give you all the pills I have no problem.” Frank yanked the envelope out of his pocket and presented it to Thomas. “Do you want the money back?”

Thomas just stared at him and shook his head. “You’re really pathetic you know that? First you act like you don’t give a damn, but suddenly you’re more than willing to cooperate. You can keep your pills and you can keep your money. I don’t need them and my boss sure as hell don’t need them. He only want to know one thing: where did you get it?”

Frank was surprised. “That’s it?”

Thomas nodded. “That’s it. And if everything works out, who knows? You might see your daughter again and you live happily ever after.”

“I ransacked the abandoned hospital. They still had a full stock of anti-viral crap. I knew it would have a lot of value on the market so I snatched as many as I could carry.”, Frank explained. His mind tried to search for a solution. Should he fight with him? No, he would shoot him on the spot.

“Don’t bullshit with me! You can’t get that kind of quality in some decaying hospital in the wastelands! “, Thomas screamed and he placed the gun on Frank’s temple.

The steel was cold, but that didn’t seem to matter. Suddenly Frank realized that he couldn’t shoot him if he didn’t tell the location. He still had a chance. If he only stood somewhere near a weak spot of the apartment. He could kick him through a wall or a window and escape.

“I- uh, know people.”, Frank replied. “Powerful people.”

“Do you now?”, Frank said with a suspicious look on his face.

“There a little book with names. In the closet over there. If I can-“

“No, I’ll get it myself.”, Thomas said and he walked to the closet near the window. He kept one eye on Frank and one eye on the closet that was seriously infested by termites and seemed like it collapse at any minute. Perfect.

Without thinking it through once more, Frank tackled Thomas who released a shot, scraping Frank’s shoulder. They both fell on the floor with a loud thud. Thomas tried to regain his footing, but Frank kicked him against the closet and Thomas fell through the construction of rotting wood and hit his head against the wall. Frank could feel blood trickling down his shirt and arm. Thomas didn’t move. As the dust settled, he could see a large crimson stain on the wallpaper. He was finished. Frank grabbed the gun from the floor, examined it and threw it on the couch.

“Good riddance.”, He mumbled as he took a cigarette from his breast pocket.

He winced in pain as the adrenaline started to wear out. He looked at the wound on his shoulder. Although it was superficial, he could see that it had be stitched. He sighed and walked to the phone in the kitchen. As he dialed the number of his doctor, he could hear a thump coming from the living room. Could the fucker still be alive? He drew his weapon and sneaked to the living room. With his weapon raised he entered the living room.

Thomas still lay motionless in the corner of the room. He strained his ears to see if he could locate the sound again. Another thump. Faint, but it was there. It came near Thomas’ body. It came from the walls. Thump. He always wondered if there was something there and now that he got the answer, he didn’t want anything to do with it. Thump. What’s the worst that could happen? Thump. It was probably a cat or a giant rat or something. Thump. Frank cautiously placed his ear against the wall and listened. Thump. Scratch. Thump. Scratch.

As a experiment, he knocked on the wall. There wasn’t another thump. Only scratching that seemed to move towards him. There was something in there alright. It was next to him. Separated by a thin piece of plaster. It amazed Frank that it didn’t escape sooner. Thump. Scratch. Thump. Thump. Scratch. Scratch. Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Shit.”, Frank snapped and he stepped back, his gun aimed at the wall.

Suddenly a cold hand grabbed his neck and teeth punctured his skin. Frank screamed and tried to wrestle free from the creature’s grip. From the corner of his eye he could see Thomas still lying there. What the fuck? If this wasn’t Thomas... Frank punched his assailant on the nose and released himself. He could see large drops of blood forming a puddle beneath him. He could feel the putrid saliva of his attacker slowly travel through his veins. Who the hell was it? He turned and saw an elderly man standing in front of him.

The man wore a suit that looked like it was expensive once, but now it was covered in a thick crusted layer of bird droppings and rat poop. Spider webs and dust covered the long, grey strands of hair. His skin resembled dried paper and his eye sockets were reduced to nothing but dark holes that seemed to pierce through Frank’s soul. The man slowly staggered towards Frank as large flakes of mummified skin dwindled down on the floor. Frank aimed and shot the creature in his head without hesitation. The skull of the man caved in and a cloud of dust erupted in Frank’s face. Frank covered his face as the dust burned in his eyes.

“Fuck!”, he screamed and rubbed his teary eyes.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Frank froze and his heart almost skipped a beat. He opened his eyes and he saw the wallpaper bulging. He rubbed his eyes once again to make sure that he wasn’t imaging things, He opened his eyes again and he saw claws puncturing through the wallpaper. Frank fired several times at the thing that clawed its way through the wall, but it had no effect. Frank had trouble breathing as the infection started to spread more rapidly. He had to relax. There was still medication in the kitchen. If he could reach that, he would be saved.

The wall suddenly erupted with a loud crack and the carcass of a large dog jumped out of it. It’s body was twisted and broken almost beyond recognition. It’s skin was tightly wrapped around the bones. Just like the old man that bit him. The dog struggled to get on its feet and Frank took the opportunity to run to the kitchen to grab a bottle of pills. He popped the lid open with shaking hands and took a pill. It seemed larger than usual. His mouth suddenly felt to dry to swallow it whole.

“Fuck it.”, he said and swallowed the pills.

The dog was dragging itself across the floor to the kitchen were Frank was trying to bandage his bleeding shoulder and neck with towels. The dog let out a groan as it tried to capture its prey. Frank smirked and evaded the mummy dog with ease. He grabbed the phone again and dialed the number. Frank figured that it would take a while for the mutt to realize what happened and seeing that he has enormous difficulty with moving, he would have enough time to call his doctor. There was only one factor he hadn’t considered.

Thomas.

The living corpse of Thomas staggered in the kitchen and bumped against Frank who was caught completely off guard by his sudden appearance. The both fell on the cold, tile floor and Thomas immediately started to rip the clothes of Frank to get to the warm, juicy flesh. With a low moan, Thomas dug his nails in the soft stomach and started pulling and twisting at the bleeding flesh. Frank screamed for help and for his life. Nobody answered back.

Frank felt a dry, leathery tongue scraping against his neck. He turned his head and saw the dog licking against the wound. As if it was drinking his blood. Like a freaking vampire. Frank tried to move, tried to ignore the soaring pains that somehow started to get numb, but Thomas was too heavy. He reached for the gun that lay on the floor near him.

“Maria!”, he screamed as he grabbed the gun and shot the two zombies that ate him alive in one fluid motion.

A fountain of blood erupted from Thomas’ forehead and the dog collapsed on the floor without shedding a single drop of blood. It was a strange and surreal feeling. He saw different shades of colors and shadows moving and dancing before his eyes. He heard sounds and smelled things he only knew from his memories as an innocent child. When things were normal. He stared at the bottle and the pills that were scattered on the floor. He pressed the gun against his temple and smiled.

If they only knew...

That those weren’t anti-viral pills...