Hey Everyone! So, I'm pretty sure this has never been done before… zombie apocalypse AU for Phantom of the Opera? Read on if you're interested! Point of views change, but not within the chapter. And just so you know, Erik takes things in stride, so this chapter will not be that crazy. Christine most definitely does not take things in stride, so expect more realistic panic next chapter. Without further ado, I bring you…
Among the Dead
Erik
April 2018
I must admit that despite all I had seen in this godforsaken world, I never quite imagined that I would one day witness a corpse walk himself out of a morgue. The take-out box Nadir had been holding dropped to the floor rather anti-climactically, his fesenjan spreading across the ground like some sort of unholy offering to the newly resurrected corpse. I regret to say that I stood there just as dumbfounded as Nadir, who had called me in that night to investigate the cadaver of Gerard Hopkins.
"This is the twelfth casualty at Memorial alone, Erik. I need another mind on this. I need your mind on this." His voice had scratched over the cell phone earlier that day. I had not intended to come originally. However, four deaths in two days brought to mind stunning possibilities: a terrorist virus, or perhaps poison. If it were not yet a weapon, it would be an interesting project to make it so. For the sake of science, of course. That being said, I had fully intended to make my way to the Memorial Hospital morgue, permission or no. Nadir hadn't needed to know that, though.
"I have no time for your human diseases. My symphony is very nearly completed—not that you would appreciate—"
"It's majesty? It's grandeur? I'll listen to it all you want if you come here tonight!"
"Like your filthy ears could even begin to comprehend my work."
The conversation had gone much along those lines, as per usual, until I agreed to lend my talents if Nadir granted me access to the medical lab for a few uninterrupted hours. Not that I couldn't have gotten in on my own. It was simply... cleaner with Nadir's help.
As the once-dead Mr. Hopkins stared at us with unblinking eyes, I regretted holding out on coming for quite so long. Though I suppose that the dead man presented a rather unique and unforeseen opportunity. How many could say that they had performed a post-mortem on a responsive patient?
My days in America had made me lax, though, and it wasn't until he took a menacing step towards us that I smelled the sharp stench of freshly spilled blood in the air. The case of the missing nurse was solved, it seemed. Well, if piles of blood didn't bring back instincts from Iran and Afghanistan, I doubted that anything could.
Quicker than I had been in many months (years, now that I truly think on it), I snatched Nadir's dark wrist in my hand and yanked him along behind me, leaving the walking corpse behind. Nadir had clearly gotten gluttonous since his life in Afghanistan, and by the time we were halfway up the stairs, I was sure that he was going to alert the hospital to our location with sound of his heaving gasps.
"Someone hasn't been using the treadmill they invested in." I remarked dryly, pushing open the morgue exit with my shoulder. After Nadir had made his way through, I took to barricading the door as best I could with an office desk and water cooler.
"Erik… I don't believe you are taking this seriously enough." Nadir commented lightly.
I glanced at the poor man to affirm that he wasn't going in to shock; while his eyes were wide and he was leaning against the wall, he looked no worse than he had the first time he had seen my face. He would be fine with my help, though I'm sure he would whine his way to the bitter end of whatever journey that we had begun down in the morgue.
"You are the one being useless. Come, help me keep the poor Mr. Hopkins and whatever else may be down there securely away from us. Then you can alert the authorities, Memorial will be flattened and made into a remembrance garden, and we will relocate once more. Perhaps Spain. Are you quite ready to learn another language?"
While my monologue had appeared to calm Nadir down considerably (I will admit that my voice was a drug in itself if one was distracted enough), the scream that erupted from down the hall brought the both of us crashing into the present moment. A ginger-haired nurse that I had seen once or twice during Nadir's residency ran around the corner and collapsed, her pale fingers clenched across her neck in a vain attempt to prolong her clearly ending life. The front of her blue scrubs were quite red. The white of her skin and the colors of her scrubs were very nearly patriotic. A rather rotund young man staggered around the corner, his skin the same grey pallor as that of the dearly departed Mr. Hopkins.
"The first victim—Edward Langdon." Nadir, calmer than I had expected the old man to be, stated as he slowly backed away. "It appears we have an epidemic on our hands."
"Pity. I had been hoping to finish that symphony in the near future."
I could feel Nadir's cold glare on my back as we ran.
After much debate, Nadir pulled up to his small Chicago apartment. I had argued that the music and equipment at my apartment was worth much more than anything that could be found in his tiny studio horror house, but as it was his car, I suppose that he could make whatever idiotic driving decision he wanted to. That did not mean that I had to enter his dirty hovel of a home.
"You are a child." He had snapped as he closed the door.
Dear Nadir was very fortunate that I had taken to leaving my lasso at home.
My Iranian friend was a punctual man, though, and it hardly been five minutes when he slowly trotted back to his car, two large bags in hand. I considered making a comment on the sluggish state of his body, but I supposed that I could take pity on him. He was of weaker stuff, and I was sure that this night was taking a toll on him.
The drive to my condo was decidedly uneventful, and Nadir had even had the audacity to suggest that perhaps it wasn't as bad as we thought. I'd found through my life that optimism was hastily rewarded with disappointment and death, and quickly told him so. I couldn't afford to be too kind to the man—I certainly didn't want him getting the idea that there was some sort of equality in our friendship.
As expected, Nadir's hopes were cut down quickly and brutally when he turned on the news. I began to organize the necessities as the public service announcement droned on in the background.
"It appears that several hospitals in the Midwest have experienced what appears to be an extreme form of rabies, including Chicago, Madison, Columbia, and Indianapolis. All residents are asked to not leave their homes under any circumstances, and to seek shelter immediately. All major hospitals are hereby under quarantine. While all official reports of the new disease have been in major city hospitals, we have received numerous unofficial reports of breakouts at other highly populated areas, such as neighborhoods, college campuses, and schools. While we do not know what has caused the disease, or how it is spread, initial reports suggest that many of the victims appear dead before entering a rabid—"
"Would you turn that drivel off?" I snapped, before doing so myself. "Yes, it is exactly as every zombie apocalyptic story has predicted. Shall I dine on your brain now, or would you prefer that I waited until you were sleeping?"
"Oh, Erik. Do you truly think this is… zombies? It seems so ridiculous."
"You were the one to declare Hopkins dead. Either you are a much worse doctor than I had originally feared, or there is some sort of disease that either masquerades its victim as a corpse or reanimates the body. As interesting as it seems, I would much rather be far away from any such disease."
"I don't know if we should leave, Erik." Nadir stood now, scratching the back of his neck with stubby fingers. "Perhaps it would be best to wait this out."
"And be just another victim in this petri dish of a city?"
"I—perhaps you are right." He was silent a moment longer, as though doubting my plan. Moron. "We must hurry, then. I'm sure that the highways will be unbreachable by tomorrow night."
"If they are not already." I had returned to packing my bags without another comment. Unfortunately, a majority of my music would need to be left behind. Perhaps I could find room for my violin. If Nadir complained, I would merely kill him. My music was a much better companion.
"Erik?"
I appraised him coldy.
"Have you thought that we may be infected?"
Perhaps Nadir was not as unintelligent as he acted.
"Of course I have considered that. If we aren't, we will take all necessary precautions to keep it that way. If not, well, you should begin to pray to your Allah that someone finds the mercy to shoot us in the heads. Though I suppose I cannot look much worse, zombie infection or no."
He nodded, unsmiling at my poor attempt at a joke, and began to help me gather as much unperishable food that would fit into his clunker of a car.
"I do hope that you filled up this morning. I fear that it will likely be impossible to get gasoline legally from here on out."
"Allah has granted me one small blessing. I am very nearly full."
"I suppose that will have to do. Nadir, one more thing."
Swooping down, I pulled two gas masks out from underneath my couch.
"I had obtained these in the event of a nuclear fallout or chemical attack. I suppose zombie apocalypse is appropriate as well."
He looked as though he were about to comment on the face that there were two gas masks, but I sent him the most withering glare I could muster without becoming enraged. He took the hint and secured his mask to his face. Clearing his throat, he looked up at the ceiling. I hastily removed my black mask and placed the gas mask on my face. It appeared that the black mask would not be nearly as vital to my survival in the upcoming days. After packing proper medicinal supplies and weaponry (I was sure that Nadir was going to have a hernia when I revealed just how much firepower I had been keeping in my apartment), covering as much skin as possible, and organizing the food as best we could, the two of us quickly left my apartment.
"Would you like to say goodbye?" Nadir had asked as I locked my door behind me and pocketed the key.
"To an insentient place of residence? Perhaps you are infected Nadir; you appear to be quite delirious." He remained silent after that, at least until we approached the highway entrance. Pity. I had almost believed that this hasty escape might be peaceful.
"Allah willing, this affair will only last a few days."
My earlier comment on optimism hung heavy between us, and no more words were spoken that night.