Transformations

George was the next one to wake, feeling Cindy's warmth beside him. Rolling over, he was confronted instead with Alyssa's drooling face, her hair spilled haphazardly about her snoring face. Startled, George quickly rose from his bed, turning to see Cindy on his other side. By contrast, she slept with both hands tucked together under her face, almost angelic in her peaceful slumber. He pushed the thoughts from his head, knowing there was a better time and place for these feelings of his.

Rising quietly, taking care not to disturb her, George realized she hadn't woken him to switch posts. Had she simply fallen asleep? No, Cindy wasn't that irresponsible. Fighting the urge to wake her, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. By a distant treadmill he saw a small shadow, hunched over silently: Yoko. He crept towards her, wondering if she were awake. He was within three steps of the door when he noticed she had changed back to her other clothes, and saw her grip on the shotgun, her alert eyes taking him in.

"I'm awake, George," she whispered coolly. "No need to test me."

"Just making sure," he apologized sheepishly. George realized he was beginning to take everyone's efforts for granted, and promised to himself that he would try not to in the future.

"George," she began quietly. "I want you to do me a favor…"

"Anything," he promised, feeling guilty for his earlier doubts.

"Check Jim now, while he's sleeping," she said. "He cut his right wrist earlier, before falling into that pool…"

"I don't think checking him when he's asleep is a good idea," said George. "If he wakes up, and sees a strange shadow close by…"

"That's why I didn't do it myself," confessed the girl. "But with two of us, I can keep an eye for his gun while you check that cut."

George thought it over. It wasn't a bad idea. But what if he was infected? Would they just kill him then?

"I don't think that is a…prudent idea," he finally said. "I think we should just plan for the worst eventuality while hoping for the best."

"While keeping an eye out for him the entire time? What if he…changes at a crucial time, when he's at our backs? We'd be surrounded," she whispered harshly.

"It's no different from how we've been keeping an eye out for each other already," replied George, rubbing his forehead. "And if he does change…I'll take responsibility for it."

"So why not now," she insisted.

"Because it won't help us to know now," he answered. "It will only complicate things."

"And later? What about complications then? Shouldn't we take care of them sooner, rather than later?"

"So, what, you're willing to shoot him now, before he's even transformed? You're okay with doing that, just killing another human being?"

She rubbed her eyes thoughtfully. When she opened them, George was taken aback by what he saw. There was no longer any indecision, any confusion in those eyes.

"Yes," she replied gravely. "I am."

--

"Dear god," was all he could say. "You're not…serious?"

"Someone has to be," she answered. "We have to start approaching this like a mathematical problem; there's no room for compassion."

"And if it were you?"

"If it were me, I'd put the bullet in my head personally," she answered without hesitation.

George regarded the girl in a new light, astonished by what he was hearing.

"Listen," she said, softening. "I'm not saying that we should go over and shoot him in his sleep. But we should know for sure, at least, instead of pretending to not see what I'm almost certain is there, and hoping foolishly for the best. Not one thing since this all began has turned out for the best."

Logic was one thing that would always work wonders on a scientific, rational man like George Hamilton. It had dominated his work, his beliefs, his very life. To deny that now would be, as Yoko called it, foolish. He saw for himself the same symptoms that Yoko had, but he had tried to ignore what he noticed, tried to avoid the issue. The infection was catching up to them. Sooner or later, it would get them all.

He nodded. "Ok, let's do it," he whispered.

Draped in the shadows, the pair glided silently towards their sleeping target. Pushing the folds of the blanket aside, George gently reached under it for Jim's wrist. Impossible to see through the deeper darkness, he had to go solely by feel. He had never appreciated how much a doctor relied on his sight until then. Feeling a soft knot of muscles, he realized that was Jim's thigh; moving his hand up, he felt something. No, that wasn't a wrist…

"This is…"

"YEAAHEY!" screamed Jim, throwing off the blanket in a panicked frenzy. He fell to the ground, grabbing for his handgun, but luckily losing it in the folds of the huge blanket. He kicked blindly, trying to cast off the sheet, his foot connecting with George's chest. With a grunt, the doctor fell back while Jim continued hollering.

"Calm down, Jim," yelled Yoko, locking her arms around his neck. "It's just us!" In the tussle, she'd lost her grip on the shotgun. She could feel Jim's muscles softening at her voice, their tenseness vanishing.

"Christ, what the fuck," he panted, seeing a sleepy eyed Alyssa and Cindy staring at him, a gasping George at his feet. "Did one of you grab my…junk? Yoko," he asked curiously as the girl's grip loosened.

"What? What are you talking about," wondered Cindy. Alyssa was already climbing back under her blanket, not caring for the answer.

"Told ya so," she mumbled sleepily.

"Not exactly," replied Yoko, flustered. How was she supposed to respond to that? "George…?"

"I uh, wanted to give you some uh, medicine that I had made earlier," he said lamely. Thankfully Jim was too tired and confused to be in his usual doubting mood. Or maybe he didn't want to consider the alternative.

"What kind of medicine?"

"It's a general antiviral medicine I made with some of Cindy's herbs," he answered, handing him a few pills. "Very potent oxidants," he added, but Jim was already swallowing one.

"Wow, I can feel myself getting better already," he said. And compelled by something that might have been instinct, he glanced down at his wrist, noticed by both George and Yoko. "I can take the next watch," he offered.

"No, you keep resting," said George, casting Yoko a worried glance. "We'll be moving within an hour anyways," he added.

Jim settled back down under his blanket to sleep, and fell so easily into slumber that he didn't notice that his shivers had stopped.

--

The last lock of the building was no doubt the hardest. Pulling the door open, they could see why. Vials upon vials of painkillers and assorted medications were stacked from front to back of the cabinet.

"Holy shit," marveled Jim, grabbing a bottle. "Jackpot…!"

"We've hit the crack mother load," added Alyssa breathlessly. "Be careful, Jim…those'll make your dick shrink."

"I knew those fucks were doing 'roids," squealed Jim, who's spirits seemed to be buoyed since taking George's medicine. Or was it the sleep? Yoko noted that he hadn't exhibited any of the telltale symptoms since then.

"Take these, Jim," said George, handing him a bottle of pills. "Two a time, every two hours."

"Two hours," asked Cindy warily. "You sure?"

George opened his mouth to speak, but realized he hadn't told Cindy about the possibility of Jim being infected. In fact, he had promised Yoko he would tell Cindy in private, while she would tell Alyssa. The young girl also realized this, shooting him an accusing look.

"If anyone needs to kill the pain, it's Jim," Alyssa answered, sharing a knowing glance with the doctor.

"Har dee fuckin' har," mocked Jim, popping a pair of pills into his mouth before checking his watch.

"Only take what you can carry," ordered George, handing everyone a small bottle. He clutched a bottle of hemostat tightly in his hand, knowing that if they had found these earlier, Mark would probably still be with them.

--

The first bottle erupted in a deafening roar of fire upon shattering. Its flames spread instantly, consuming four zombies in a red-hot inferno. The creatures, which had seemed impervious to pain up until that point, began to groan in pain, their flesh melting like heated wax, distorting their already hideous features.

"God, what a smell," said Cindy, pinching her nose.

"Burning skin and hair never smells good."

"It doesn't seem to be attracting the other zombies either."

"Guess they like their meat raw…"

"Did you guys notice that there are fewer of them out there now?"

"They probably went to find their meal elsewhere."

"Then how come they all didn't go?"

"You're asking me how the zombie brain works?"

"I'd think it was so simple that we would know how it works by now."

"Then how come us guys can't figure out what you women want?"

"The same reason zombies can't outsmart humans, I guess."

The next bomb was quite beautiful in its explosion, the fire racing in every direction, chasing the flying liquid. George grunted in satisfaction; his bomb hadn't killed as many as Jim's first heave, but at least no one was mocking his throwing form. Five years of rugby and lacrosse, and yet he still couldn't throw with proper form.

Cindy and Yoko threw theirs simultaneously, both nearly panicking as a pack of zombies brushed past the fire without regard to their flaming limbs. Their bombs erupted in a tall wall of flame, the sudden light blindingly bright.

"Careful," warned George. "We don't want these fires getting out of control with only one exit…"

"The booze should burn off soon enough," said Alyssa, eager to throw hers. Pulling her arm back, she was about to cast the bomb when she saw that familiar shape through the window. The glow of the fire reflected off the reinforced glass, partly obscuring it from view, but she could recognize that outline easily enough. It had haunted her dreams only a few hours ago, after all.

The glass shattered inward with its lunging attack, the Licker bounding through the fallen glass with a feline-like grace. Trying to redirect her aim, Alyssa missed badly, the bottle breaking to its side. The flames were close enough to stun the creature, however, shrieking from the overload to its heightened senses.

Four bombs were hurriedly thrown in the next moment; none of the survivors waiting for the other to throw one. Confronted with such an unspeakable horror, it was to almost be expected that they would overreact, Alyssa the only one to have actually faced one in combat.

A column of flame like none they had ever seen burst from the floor, shooting in every direction, rising high enough to touch even the raised ceiling. Weight equipment began to burn, the black rubber dripping down stainless steel supports. And within that inferno, the Licker screeched in agony, its sleek flesh simmering, then melting, and finally burning to a blackened crisp.

The group was unable to observe this deterioration of the creature, turning to an ashen pile of charred bones, met with the growing blaze from their mass bombing. The entire front of the gym was consumed in flame, spreading to opposite ends in a rush of hungry fire.

"Shit," swore Jim. "What now?"

"Only one way out," replied George. "Follow me," he yelled over his shoulder.

Rushing forward, he leapt over the smaller fire by the front door, lobbing another bomb through the opening. He could hear the others behind him, panting from the thick smoke. Just when they thought they had escaped one fire…

Yoko especially was struggling. She had packed as many cocktails as she could into the bag, the canvas stretched and nearly about to burst. Reaching over, Cindy grabbed the top strap of the girl's bag, helping to support the great weight. The two exchanged a brief smile, trying to catch up to the others. Alyssa in particular was far ahead of them, passing George to leap over the flames of his last bomb, which was spreading towards a stack of cars.

"Alyssa," cried Cindy. "Don't—"

But before the young woman could scream her words of warning, the fire jumped to the cars, engulfing them in a burst of red-hot flame. The cars instantly caught afire, the combustion reaching the engine block. And fuel tank. Exploding in a flash, the blast knocked George clear off his feet, tossing him back onto Jim.

"Alyssa," called a worried Cindy, seeing the men unhurt. Helping them up, she called to the other woman again, her cries drowned by the blaze.

"Are you all ok," came Alyssa's distant voice. "I'm cut off here!"

"Are you hurt," yelled George, looking around. With the thin roadway, there really was no way around this conflagration.

"I'm fine," she replied, her voice growing fainter. "I'm going to head to the police station," she called. "Go on without me; I'll try to meet up with you later!"

"We should stick together," argued Cindy vehemently, but they heard no reply. Alyssa was already gone.

Note: I didn't want to make a big deal about Alyssa being cut off, as she didn't start as one of the main characters, and I'm considering some future uses for her down the road. I started to do this new thing I've been meaning to try, where I list line after line of dialogue without any indication of who said it. I figured it might be a good test to see how well the readers (and I) know the characters. It got a bit confusing for me though, so I left just that one short conversation in there.

Another part that just sort of happened was the whole George-checking-Jim bit. I had no intention of making it humorous, actually considering making that a scene where Jim disappears after overhearing Yoko's promise to kill him, then having him come back later to save them all. I decided to lighten the mood a bit, and I never liked how George says in the game "This is…". So I had no qualms at all poking fun of him for it.

While her departure might seem a bit abrupt, I couldn't shake the notion that Alyssa secretly wanted to be separated, and forge her own path. Got a strange feeling she'll pop up again sometime soon…