The Infected: What Happened to Greta Price (3)

three: island-bound for eternity

Five Days Prior to the Infection

"So what do we do to pass the time? Wanna play cards?" David asked me. He seemed to know what I would answer before I ever opened by mouth. He was already walking towards the closet where the Prices kept their games.

"Not Queen of Hearts," I snicker, "you always win."

David comes back with the deck of cards in his hands and sits down across from me. As he opens the pack, the door to the basement swings wide open and Greta stumbles out - her laptop cradled in her hands.

"Ohmygod David, you'll never believe what I found on the net! Hey Charlie!" She barely looks at me, sits right beside her brother. "I thought It would be perfect for your blog!"

"You guys have way too much time on your hands!" I laugh to myself. Greta and David were always tossing theories around and discussing the latest science buzz.

"You don't get it, Charlie, this is really wack. It was filmed in 1979 and the girl in the vid mentions your name," Greta says, looking at me with wide eyes; just waiting for my reaction.

It doesn't come.

"You know how many Charlotte's there must be in the world? Greta -"

"Just watch it!" She shrieks and presses the play button. David and I exchange a glance before the recording begins.

****

The screen was black for several seconds until one single eye came in view. The image cleared up and zoomed out putting in focus the girl that held the digital camcorder. She had straight black hair with a heavy bang that shadowed her eyes. Mascara ran down her right cheek and she had several deep cuts that ran along the leftside of her face.

The camara shook in her hands and she had trouble staying in the frame. Their wasn't much light on her and the background was undistinguishable. Everything was black.

"This is day five, I am in the subway tunnels below Honshu. They have taken over the city-"

Strange noises could be heard in the distance. The fragile Japanese girl turned around quickly and panic gripped her, evident by the steady shaking of the cam. She brought her attention back to the camera and brushed her hair from her face, revealing another gash across her forehead.

"I don't know how much time I have left before I change but whoever finds this has to know that there is a cure. There is a cure. You have to find - Oh God...no!"

The noises that peppered the darkened tunnels were coming closer and closer. The girl held the camera firmly in her hands as she began running down the lenghty tunnels. The small light attached to the camcorder created straight luminous lines as it juggled wildly in it's owners panicked hands. She could be heard screaming and shouting for help even as she stumbled to the ground.

The camera fell a few feet away from her, the light shining directly in her terrified eyes. She tried to grab the camera but it was just out of reach.

"Find CharloooOOOO -"

Something grabbed her foot from the darkness and dragged the Japanese girl out of sight but her screams could be heard from the dark and her suffering was recorded until the batteries died and the light went out.

****

"Charlo? How is that my name?" I asked, confused as to why Greta was so excited to show us that obviously fake video.

"I don't know, it just made me think of you."

Sometimes I forget just how young Greta is, how vulnerable she is to the world. She's fragile. She's so young.

Now

Malory was quite surprised, yet pleased, that Greta had such a compelling memory. Yet her knowledge of the crisis scared her. The little girl knew too much.

"That is very alarming." Malory said, fumbling with something in the back of her pants.

"Why?"

"Because Denton Drake is my father." The red headed woman answered before turning around, turning the gun on little Greta Price. "And he has no idea about what I am doing in his name."

Malory shot three bullets in the ground, just at Greta's feet. The little girl jumped back, shrieking.

"I know you're not saying the whole truth. Now tell me everything or the next bullet will be in your head." Malory spat, her voice unfaltering even when threatening a small child.

"I told you everything I know," Greta said between tears. One more word and she would be sobbing.

"What do you know about the cure, Greta? Does Charlie have it?"

"I don't know."

"Where is it?"

"I said I don't know!" Greta shouted, angry and hurt. Pained.

"Well say hello to your brother, then."

Malory raised the pistol and pulled the trigger without hesitation. She didn't even linger in respect as Greta crumbled to the floor. She sidestepped the body and walked out. Joining the fleeing crowd.

Leaving Greta on Fogo Island forever.

The Infected: What Happened to Greta Price (2)

two: filling the gap

Malory was leading Greta down a dark corridor, most likely held under the camp site. The metal sheets that covered the walls and shaking pipes overhead were here long before the Infection began. Fogo Island was an old mining island and many of its old tunnels and digsites still remained.

Greta was getting tired of walking, checking back often to see if Charlotte was following them. She wasn't. They turned into one of the rooms that was most likely used for the miners resting quarters, judging by the beds that lined the walls.

"We'll stay here for a while." Malory said and closed the door behind them.

"What is going on? Did I say something wrong?" Greta answered warily, aware of the sound of shuffling feet outside the door.

Malory kneeled down, just low enough to look directly in the little girl's eyes.

"You said exactly what I wanted to hear. Now tell me, how did you find us? Was it Sarabeth that led you here? Charlotte's mother?"

Greta was afraid herself, but she knew she wasn't as scared as the red-headed woman that knelt before her.

"Yes. She promised that she could end this. I don't want to hurt anyone but I was alone; my family is dead. When Aleksandra killed my brother, I ran out. I ran to hurt her, to see my brother. That's when Charlie's mom showed up with men. She seemed angry about something. Charlotte had been in Del Rio  and supposedly took something from her mom.

"Sarabeth wanted it back. She said it could help us end the war against the dead. She said the only way for us to survive, to be happy, was to find Charlotte and get that thing back."

"What is it? Do you know?" There was a fire in Malory's eyes, one burning bright as her fiery red hair.

"It's a tracking device. That's all I know."

"And you were suppose to retrieve it?"

"Yes. But I promise Charlie and Felix had nothing to do with this."

Malory contemplated what the little girl just said. Her brow lowered as she stood back up. She paced slightly around the room, going over the details that were just leaked to her.

"Greta, did Sarabeth talk about a cure?"

"The night before I signaled your boat, I overheard her talking with Aleksandra about Denton Drake, the CEO of Drake Foods. She said he had a lot more riding on this then her and that if he got the cure before them, the situation would only get worse."

Malory was quite surprised, yet pleased, that Greta had such a compelling memory. Yet her knowledge of the crisis scared her. The little girl knew too much.

"That is very alarming." Malory said, fumbling with something in the back of her pants.

"Why?"

"Because Denton Drake is my father." The red headed woman answered before turning around, turning the gun on little Greta Price. "And he has no idea about what I am doing in his name."


POW POW POW


(to be continued)

The Infected: What Happened to Greta Price (1)

one: Q&A

Malory had no intention on going easy with the child. She could see right through the trio's plan to take over the settling, with the help from that blonde girl across the sea. It was plain as sight that Charlotte Olsen hadn't strayed far from the family dynamics. Betrayal and deception was in her blood.

The British readhead stepped out of the first room and accompanied by Connor, made her way towards the other room, the one furthest from the stairs. That's where Greta was being held. Malory nodded to Connor, letting him know she would enter the room herself.

When Malory entered, she half-expected Greta to leap out at her, unleash her youthful rage. But none of that happened. Greta was curled up into a ball, tucked away in one of the corners of the room.

"Hello Greta."

The little girl didn't respond. Malory took a chair out from the closet and sat crossed-leg in front of Greta.

"I have a few questions for you. Just to better assess what is going on. You like Q&A's, Greta?"

Malory was sweet talking the child. Smiling and speaking softly. Greta responded well to this, and nodded in approval.

"Good, because I have a few questions for you. Are you David Price's sister?

Greta nodded again, this time unfolding her arms from around her bent knees, slowly exposing herself. A sign of trust.

"And did the girl from across the sea, Aleksandra; did she murder your brother?"

"Yes." Greta managed to say, although so close to sobbing.

"And did you lead her here? Did you know about this place?"

This time Greta shook her head. "She brought me here."

"So Aleksandra knew of this place?"

It took a while for Greta to answer. She was struggling with an answer.

"Yes. She..." Greta looks around the room then back at the floor. "I promised I wouldn't say anything. She made me promise."

"Aleksandra did?" Malory asked, although she seemed to know that that was not the answer Greta was about to give her.

"No. Charlotte's mother."

And at that answer, Malory's eyes grew twice their size and her jaw dropped. She jumped out of her chair and slammed her hand against the large red push-button by the door, sounding off an alarm. Connor rushed inside the room.

"Is everything -"

"Get Charlotte and Felix. We need to leave."

"Why? What's wrong?"
"She found us. The bitch is here."

"What about your father? He can -"

"Leave him. He deserves whatever it is that comes his way."


(to be continued)

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (9)

nine: ...towards death.

I'm so dizzy. I'm kneeling in front of the toilet wanting to throw up, to relieve my nausea. Sarabeth asks me if I'm okay; I say yes but I'm far from being alright. She doesn't know, will never know that I could have saved my family.

I sit back against wall and sigh. I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't help Sarabeth and stay to protect Greta, make sure she...make sure she lives a good long life. I want that for her, I trully do but something draws me to Charlotte. I want to see her, if only for a few minutes.

The room doesn't spin around me anymore and I find it safe to get up. I walk out the bathroom changed. I'm confident in my decision now. I know what I have to do.

"I'll help you," I tell Sarabeth, who was just about to slip on her jacket but turned to look at me, "But once we find Charlie, I need to get back here. Safely."

"That can be arranged." She answers and slips on her jacket, "I sense something in your voice. Is there something I don't know, David?"

I look away. "No, I just...feel safe here."

"I can understand that. Now let's go, we got someone to find." Sarabeth extends her hand, inviting me to grab it, "You're not alone anymore, David." She smiles and for what its worth, she reminds me of mom.

*****

"I'm just going to be out for a few days, we're going to try to find Charlie Olsen. You remember her, right? I won't be long, please stop crying. Greta, she might hear you. Don't worry about me, I'll be right back. Here I sneaked some food while she wasn't looking. I promise, I'll be back for you, Greta."

*****

It feels good to have the wind in my face. Were cruising along Còrtez Boulevard in Sarabeth's red Jeep. She says we need to stop at her place before we move on.

"Hey, can you put my jacket in the back, I have a bag of clothes there."

I nod and place her jacket in the bag, between the canned goods and the jug, which I guess contains water. I look up and notice her men, following us in a black sedan, but I can't tell which make. I settle back into my seat and let the wind carry me away once again.

*****

It's odd being back at Charlie's house. The men have erected a new perimeter around this house. Four large metal posts at each corner of the yard. I look around and don't see any zombies, safe Jeanette Olsen and Stephanie Holloway - both as stiff and still as rocks.

"What are those?" I ask Sarabeth.

She appears from the kitchen and asks me what I'm talking about.

"The posts, what are they?"

She gives me a cold stare then sighs. "You are too curious for your own good, David Price." She walks over to the bay window and crosses her arms behind her back. "They protect us from the infected. That's all you need to know."

I knew that already. Anyone could have figured out they were some form of barrier. But David couldn't understand how it protected them. And apparently, it was a subject Sarabeth wanted to avoid.

"We have a lead on Charlotte's location. She's in Del Rio." Sarabeth turns to face me and waits for me to answer. It all seems to convenient.

"You guys knew she was here. Why do you want me to bring her back? What are you hiding?" The tone of my voice rises as anger starts to build up. She tricked me.

"I'm not hiding anything, David." She answers calmly, doesn't even move.

"DON'T LIE TO ME! WHY DON'T YOU GO GET HER?!" I storm off towards the window and point outside, at the posts. "And what are those?! Who are you, Sarabeth Olsen?"

"You caught me." She raises her hands up and smirks. Then drops her hands and smacks me across the face. "Don't ever talk to me like that, again. The reason I can't go get my own daughter is because of you."

She turns and takes a few steps away from me. The weight of her accusation sits offly heavy on my shoulders. What do I have to do with this?

"You planted ideas in her, David, and with enough time, enough doubt, those ideas festered into radical thoughts. Charlotte doesn't trust me. Not after what you guys discussed in the meadow."

"How...How do you even know about that? Did Charlie talk to you before...before this?" I'm puzzled. It brings me back to three weeks ago, the day it all went down. The last time I saw Charlie. But she would never talk to her parents about her conservations with me. Hell, I don't even think they called her all that much. She rarely spoke about them when they moved to Japan.

"I kept really good tabs on my daughter. Which led me to you, David. She trusts you. You can convince her to come back home."

I didn't question Sarabeth's sincerity up until now. All of this seems so contrived.

"I changed my mind." I blurt out and Sarabeth's face drops.

"David, you have to bring her home. She has the cure."

"I don't believe you. I don't believe your lies."

"You little brat, think of the greater good!"

"There is no cure, you're lying. I want to go back home!"

Sarabeth screams and then comes at me but I dodge and push her against the wall. I don't even doubt what I'm going to do next.

As I pass the front door I snatch up the keys to the Jeep. I don't look back, I don't even risk it. Sarabeth's men look at me funny when I approach the driveway but they don't react, don't stop me. When I finally get in the Jeep and pull out of the driveway, I understand why.

Sarabeth told them to. She's standing at the door and just watching me. Before I speed off towards home, towards Greta, leaving Charlotte behind, Sarabeth mouths: "Fool."

*****

I'm driving along Palm Street, angry at myself for having left Greta behind. I don't even think about Charlotte anymore. It can't be true. There can't be a cure for this.

I see my street, Onco. I slow down and go to turn left when I spot a couple of infected to my right. I'm about to ignore them and floor it but I notice fluid movement, human movement. I look closer and spot Charlotte. Oh my god. She's alive, she's here. Charlotte.

I swerve the wheel to the right and the tires screech as I come to a stop at the corner of Palm and Onco, Charlotte running towards me. I have to tell her. Tell her that her mom is here. Tell her everything I know.

"DAVID!!" She yells and I can hear the pain in her voice, it's not the same. She doesn't look the same. I go to unfasten my seatbelt when I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I think it's heartburn, or anxiety but then I hear screaming and feel something hot trickling down my chest and legs. I look down and see blood.

When I look back up I see another girl, closer to the forest. My vision starts to blur and I can hear Charlotte beside me. She's here. With me. I'm not alone.

I try to tell her to go and get Greta but not a sound comes out of my mouth. I'm numb, and warm. I'm in Charlotte's arms.

"WE CAN'T LEAVE HIM!" She screams. I feel numb. And warm...This is it, I guess.

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (8)

eight: one step closer...

Sarabeth and I are seated at the kitchen table. She's taking in all the information I gave her about what happened in the past weeks. How I survived on what little food was left in the house; how I never went outside once. I can't mention Greta. For now, until I know more, she's as dead as everyone else.

"I'm truly sorry about what happened, David. I can empathize with you; I found my home abandonned," she takes a moment, "no sign of Charlotte. My mother-in-law was sprawled against the pavement, her skull cracked open. She turned though, before that. Jeanette...poor her." Sarabeth inhales deeply and steals a sip of her water. She continues, "I haven't heard from my husband or my father-in-law but I can only assume that they didn't make it back."

She pauses, as if she hadn't meant to speak those last words.

"Back where?" I ask, still doubtful of the Olsen's part in this...infection.

"I guess it doesn't matter anymore what people know. David, Charles and I were the ones who created the Tip-Shiziku virus." I can see her relax the moment she says it. She must have been weighted down by this secret for years. For some reason, I find myself pitying her.

"I somewhat already knew, Mrs. Olsen. I'm a huge theorist. I didn't know it had a name though. Tip-Suzuki?"

"Tip-Shiziku," she answers, slightly amused. The wrinkles that form when she smiles betray her age. She continues, "named so after the scientist who first discovered the...um...it's hard to explain. But Charles and I were the ones who were able to manipulate it into mass. We were hired by the US government; we worked closely with Robert Scott, the Secretary of Defense. Charles and his father were coming back to meet with him when it struck."

Her last few words barely came out and soon she broke into a sob. I got off my chair and went beside her, wrapped my arm around her shoulders, comforted her. We both needed it. Both our worlds have been shattered.

"David, I had nothing to do with what has happened. The virus was never suppose to be used. It was a threat, to calm the other nations. I promise, I had no part in this." Sarabeth says weakly. Mascara is tearing down her cheeks. She looks a mess.

"What exactly has happened?" I ask, and return to my seat.

"From what we were able to gather, the virus was released simultaneously around the world through food and beverages. To be more precised, whoever did this used Drake products to infect the population. Drake Foods broke record sales in the last trimester, David. Whoever did this, knew exactly what they were fucking doing."

"But how...I mean, it happened so quickly..." I can't wrap my mind around the thought that all this chaos was brought upon by food.

"The infection is...alive. Once someone has been infected, they can in turn infect someone else. Theorist, huh? You should know about the Vodun? The Zombies?" Sarabeth managed to wipe the mascara off her cheeks but she still looks somber. I think we all do. I think we will always be somber from now on.

"Yeah, but this quickly? The whole world turned to shit in two days. Two days, Mrs. Olsen." I say. My fingers curl up to form a fist. I'm not angry at her, I guess. I'm just angry that this - this fucking mess - is even happening at all.

"How many people you know start their day with Drake Juice? Or have Drake cheese for lunch, or even a Drake microwave diner? Didn't you enjoy Drake Cookies after supper David? Yeah, it was everywhere."

What she's saying is true. Everyone I know at school had at least one Drake product in their lunchbox. Mom only bought organic food which I always hated. But now, now I kinda appreciate that. If the Lochlans hadn't attacked us, we might have come out of this just fine. I wouldn't be alone. With Greta; I had almost forgotten about her.

"I should tell you why we're here, though. I need your help, David."

"My help? For what?" I ask, confused by her request.

"I need you to find Charlotte. And bring her to me." Sarabeth answers and I can hear torment in her voice.

"Charlotte! She's alive?" My heart skips a beat and I'm suddenly covered in goosebumps. I smile. For the first time in three weeks, I smile.

"Yes, she's alive. And David," Sarabeth pauses, looks away, "Charlotte has the cure to the infection."

My eyes widen and I gasp. A cure. A cure that could have saved my family.

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (7)

seven: lies


We've been hiding in the basement for two days now. The people outside have yet to come in; they set up some sort of perimeter outside our house and they seem to be doing nothing but watching. What Sarabeth Olsen is up to is beyond me. If they're tracking behaviour patterns in the walking dead, they picked the wrong city.

I haven't seen many zombies pass in front of our house. I haven't ventured into town yet, so they might all have converged there but I can't say for sure. Whatever it is Sarabeth and her men are doing doesn't seem to involve Greta and I. I doubt they know we are inside.

Although I've managed to keep Greta calm for the past days, I can't seem to do the same with my curiosity. I want - scratch that, I need - to know what they're doing. I had my doubts the Olsens were involved in all of this and Sarabeth's showing is hardly a coincidence. Maybe I'll get answers about all of this if I go talk to them.

Rationality quickly kicks in and reminds me of the threat out there. Not only the threat of the flesh-eating bastards that roam the streets, but the threat of Man. In desperate times, man has been known to act irresponsibly. I don't know what they are up and I don't want to jeopardize Greta's safety.

But I need to know.

"Greta, I think I'm going to go talk to them, to Charlotte's mom."

She shifts, looks up at me. "No, you can't. What if they want to hurt us, David? What if they do what you did to mom and dad and Rebekah."

I guess she doesn't quite understand what I did. "They won't Greta, we haven't been...infected. They're not going to hurt us."

"Do you promise? David, promise it!"

I grab onto Greta's hands and hold them tightly against my chest. I kiss her forehead and make her the promise that they won't hurt us. She nods in response.

"Don't come up until I say so, you got it kiddo?"

Tears swell up in her eyes but she manages to answer with a simple "yes". I give her hope by smiling but I'm sure she sees through the smoke and mirrors. How horrible that she has to live in a world without hope.

*****

My hands are moist and sweat pearls down my forehead. I rub my hands togheter and muster up the courage to remove the first plank. They'll hear me, Sarabeth and her men I mean. They'll hear me tear the wooden planks off the door, the only thing protecting us from the outside world. Hopefully they don't have guns.

I remove the nails from the first plank and through the crystalized window of our front door, I see Sarabeth walking up the lane way apprehensively. I take off the second board and then the third. By the time I remove the fourth and final board, Sarabeth has reached the door step.

I open the door to my house and find myself face to face with Charlotte's mother.

"David...We we're waiting for you to open that door."

The way she says it, the fact she knew we were inside but didn't act upon it bothers me. Not in the conventional sense. It bothers me somewhere between common sense and spidey sense. I love theories. And this whole scenary smells of conspiracy.

"What...what are you doing here, Mrs. Olsen?"

"Why don't we come in and explain it all?" She says, a slight grin appearing on her face. The three men behind her don't move, don't look at me. They are standing in the middle of their makeshift perimeter and look stiff as stone.

"You can come in. Not them." I've known Sarabeth my whole life, and although something doesn't add up, she's still Charlotte's mother, someone I know and trust.

"Fair enough, David. Shall we go inside, then?"

I keep the door open for her but make sure to close it shut and lock it the moment we are both inside. Sarabeth removes her leather jacket and goes to throw it on the couch but does otherwise when she spots the blood that dominates the living room.

"What happened here?" Sarabeth says, a slight tinge of sorrow in her voice.

"Karl and Annie Lochlan attacked my family," David was about to say what he had to do but decided against the thought and simply added, "They didn't survive."

"I'm so sorry. Did anyone else survive? Anyone else but you?" Sarabeth asks me and I hear genuine concern coming through her question. I think about Greta, think about what is best for her safety. I can't jeopardize that. She deserves a full life. I trust Sarabeth but something seems off; and so I lie.

"No. Nobody else survived."

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (6)

six: we have visitors


I can't open the can of beans with this stupid can opener. The screw rusted a few years ago and mom never changed it. Now I'm struggling to open our last can of food before we are forced to go seeking for more. We avoided going outside now for the past three weeks, rationning what little food was left in the house before the world turned to shit.

I see the changes already in my body but I've prioritzed Greta's appetite over mind and she seems to have taken less of a hit. Her cheeks are still full, they haven't begun to cave in just yet.

As Greta looks on with eager eyes, I finally manage to turn the crank and begin to slice the lid off our delicious can of green beans.

"I promise we'll go out for food tomorrow. It's too dark out now. I knew we should have went earlier."

Greta puts her hand on my arm - without a doubt to reassure me - and when I look at her she has a smile.

"It's okay David. You're doing great so far."

I can't help but to grin myself. Greta hasn't officially told me but I know she forgives me for what I did to our family. Deep down she understands what I had to do now. The risks and perils have finally sunk in. She gets it.

"Okay, you put the plates on the table, I'll go rinse the beans in the bathroom" I say, and leave the kitchen.

I'm in the bathroom for a mere minute before Greta appears at the door with a certain fear in her eyes.

"Greta, what is it?"

"There are people on the front lawn. They're installing stuff on the grass, I saw them David. I swear they're there, it's not like last time. David, they aren't...infected."

She blurts out everything so fast that I barely take it all in. A week ago she had been sure there was some of them outside but when I got up to check the lawn was clear. This didn't seem like a repeated incident.

"How many people are there?" I drop the can of beans in the sink and kneel down to Greta's height.

She stops to think. "Four, there's four of them. And David..."

What has she forgotten to say, now? "Yes, Greta..."

"One of them - um, the woman - is Charlotte Olsen's mother."

"What? Are you sure?" Hearing Charlotte's name makes my heart jump into a frenzy. My mind races a mile a minute, trying to search the database of memories for anything and everything Charlie. I miss her so much.

"It was her, David. What do they want?" I didn't pick up on it earlier - I should have - but now I hear the fright in her voice.

"I don't know," I answer and grab the beans out of the sink, "but let's wait to see what their up to before we do anything, okay. We'll go have supper in the basement."

She nods and walks off towards the staircase. I linger in the bathroom for a minute, thinking of what we should do next and when my mind is set I join Greta downstairs for an awesome meal of cold grean beans.

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (5)

five: boards up


I can't believe I'm about to go outside with them. I always thought I'd be ready to survive a zombie aplocalypse. I imagined that I would be the savior, somewhat of a town leader. Somehow I never pictured it as bad as this.  I look outside and see no town. I couldn't even save my family.

I turn to Greta. Poor Greta.

"I want you to lock the door the moment I walk out. When I'm close, unlock the door and let me in. You got it?" I make sure to keep eye contact with Greta; she needs to follow these steps. One wrong move and they can make a move. I had placed the wooden boards up with the intention of never taking them down.

From what i've gathered by watching the bastards roam the street is that they are slow. Quick at first, still got that extra bite in them; but then they slow down. And that's when they gather in mass. I've read about them way too much to be fucked by one of them any time soon.

I kiss Greta on the forehead and open the door. I've made sure the street was clear. There wasn't a zombie in sight. I step out and wait to hear the click and the clang of the deadbolt. The moment I hear it and know Greta is safe, I make my way towards my dad's Kia Sedona. When I near the car, I stop to contemplate the neighbourhood.

Onco street is normally quite busy at this time of day. People come home from work, they all take Palm Avenue and Onco Street. But there's no one. The streets are empty and there's an odd smell carried in the wind. I look out at one of the entrance of Maybell forest at the far end of Onco. Charlotte are I were there but only four days ago.

I snap out of it and realise how vulnerable I am in the open. I slide open the back door of the minivan and immediately see the pumps, right beside a Bratz doll. I smack the doll to the side, grab the pumps, and slide the door shut. I check around one last time, making sure I am not being stalked.

There isn't a zombie to be seen.

I run back towards the house and just as planned Greta opens the door just in time and slams it shut the second I'm inside. I lock the door and hand Greta her pumps. She takes deep hits out of both of them and I place the boards back up and for a while all that is heard is the hammer driving nails.

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (4)

four: inconvenient timing


I'm standing in the kitchen, still and quiet. I just boarded up the last window, securing our house as best I could. I try not to gaze in the direction of the pantry, but I seem unable to look away for long periods of time. They're in there. My family. Dead and shoved away in a tiny pantry.

I desperately want to run away. Not outside, not with them. I want to runaway inside my mind, lock myself up in a dream world where everything is good. Where everything is back to what it used to be. With mom, and dad, and even Rebekah, no matter how much I said I hated her before...before this. But my thoughts pull me back to life, back to where Greta is waiting for me. She needs me.

As I put away the hammer and nails, I drift back to yesterday. I was talking with Charlotte. Victoria Snow was picking on us, Rebekah had a date with Roy Dunst, mom made lasagna, dad worked late and didn't come home until way past our bedtime. And Greta. My heart stings when I think about her. She hasn't come out of her room since yesterday. She refuses to speak with me.

As much as I tried to reassure her, she doesn't grasp what is happening. I know. I knew it the moment Karl Lochlan attacked my sister. That lust for human flesh; it's only visible in the eyes of the walking dead.

I grab the bucket under the sink and fill it with hot water. I'm frightened by how methodical my reaction is. I should be like Greta. I shut the fawcetts, cutting off the only sound there was. It's driving me crazy. I slip on some gloves, lift the bucket out of the sink and walk towards the living room where once again, Greta is standing by the stairs.

She's wheezing and clutching at her chest. Damn it, not now.

"Greta, where are your pumps?!" I say, setting down the bucket.

She looks back. Towards the front door.

"I...forgot it...in the car."

In the car. Outside. With them.

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (3)

three: I have to


Everything happened so quickly. Rebekah was out the door. Greta had ran up the stairs. George Price was trying in vain to get Annie off his wife. There was blood everywhere.

David stood in the doorway, transfixed by the events unfolding around him. This isn't happening. I need to do something.

*****

Dad can't hold on forever. Annie is ripping mom a new face. I snap out of the dreamstate I was in and jump back to reality.

"GET OFF HER!" I hear dad screaming, his voice slightly different. I've never heard him so fearful and scared. Why is Annie doing this?

I go to grab Annie's arm to pull her off my mom when I hear it. Rebekah's high pitch scream.

My head snaps sideways and I can't believe what I am seeing. It just isn't possible. Rebekah is running for dear life back towards the house, towards me. Our eyes lock and sheer terror looks back at me. Rebekah is terrified. Then I understand.

Karl Lochlan appears from the left, a mere shadow of what he used to be. Dark, sulken eyes. Pale skin streaked black with veins. Blood all over him. He collides hard with Rebekah, smacking her against her own car.

"DAAAAVID!" Rebekah screams, never breaking eye contact with me. Her arm extended, silently asking for help as Karl rips a chunk of flesh from her shoulder.

Just then my mom screams and I hear objects crashing behind me. I can't look away. I can't leave Rebekah's gaze. Because I know what is happening.

It kicks in. It being anger, survival instincts, fear, whatever the fuck it is that ignites our flame when need be. I run outside, grab dad's shovel and extend it at arm's lenght, running as fast as I can towards Karl. I ram the spade through Karl's neck, ripping away the skin, flesh, and muscle that holds his neck up.

He slumps to the ground, as does Rebekah. She can't even talk. Blood is pouring out of her neck and shoulder wounds. Her left ear and part of her hair around it is gone.

"We need to get inside," I look around, spot another one by the intersection. I turn back and see Dad locking the back door, no sight of Annie. Mom is on the ground and she isn't moving. At all.

"Rebekah, we need to get inside now", I say and help Rebekah to her feet. She can't stand straight and I'm dragging her back to the house, the shovel staying firmly in my hand. I'm crying, she's crying and when I get inside I find dad crying over mom's lifeless body.

"Dad..." I take my time to lay Rebekah on the sofa. "Dad, I need something to stop the blood!" I'm nearly yelling yet he still doesn't respond. Mom is dead. What the fuck.

"DAD!" This time he looks at me and then at Rebekah. It sinks in. He's just about to get onto his knees when mom's eyes open.

"Oh, Theresa" Dad says tenderly, and I have no time to warn him. I should have known this would happen. Mom lunges forward and up, wrapping her jaw around dad's arm and chewing off as much flesh and skin as she can in one bite.

I grab hold of the shovel. I have to. I walk over to mom and wack her as hard as I can across the face. Dad is screaming, not because of his wounds. He's screaming at me but I don't listen. I have to.

I continue hitting her until she stops moving. I hear Rebekah moan on the couch, dad still screaming, unable to move because of his wounds.

Not once do I stop to think. When the dead can kill you with a scratch, you don't think. You act.

Dad knows what I'm about to do and he still doesn't understand what is going on. I guess it's normal. I mean, I've always thought zombies would eventually do us in but dad wouldn't know. This isn't fair. This isn't how it's suppose to be.

I raise the shovel and bring the spade down, severing dad's neck. I fall on my knees, leaning against the shovel's shaft. I'm bawling my eyes out. Rebekah moans again but this time it's more of a low rumble.

It's not easy but I have to.

Rebekah comes at me really fucking fast. I get to my feet and swing the shovel across the side of her head, sending her tumbling inside the kitchen.

"WRAAAGH!" She snaps her head up and those eyes that displayed fear earlier now only show hatred and hunger. Lust for flesh. I know about this way too much. She comes at me full speed and once again I smack her across the face, but this time I don't let up and keep wacking her on the head until she remains still.

I fall back against the wall, exhausted. I look around the room and the amount of blood and the smell of rot makes me nauseous. That's when I realise how much i'm shaking. I feel my heart beating through every part of my body.

Greta suddenly appears at the bottom of the stairs.

"David...what...what did you do?" She starts crying and makes her way towards the bodies.

"DON'T!" I grab her arm and yank her towards me. I hold her against my chest and hug her tightly. "I had to, Greta. For us, I had to."

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (2)

two: before death


"Zombie cows, closing food plants, and a pharmaceutical company. Please give me the right to find all of this a bit odd, David." Charlie said, obviously exhausted by all the information David just handed her. 

"You should talk to your parents. I'm on the tip of discovering something big, I swear!"

They finally reached the oak tree that separates their way home. David is heading left towards the lake and Charlie is heading west towards town. He suggests they meet up tomorrow after school as well and she gladly accepted her best friend's invitation.

As David walked away from Charlie and made his way home, he had this odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was overwhelming and soon after he was invaded by the thought that he'll never see Charlotte Olsen again.

*****

The last client at Walker, Price, and Associates has just left the office, giving George Price the rare opportunity to join his family for supper. He finished up what little paperwork was left from his latest transaction and casually walked out of his office.

As he walked down charming Main street, he remembered he had to pick up his youngest daughter from dance class. He stopped in front of Maggie's Tart and Sweet, the local bakery. George looked in his bag and took out his cellphone and dialed his daughter's number.

"Hey Greta, I'm so sorry I'm late. I'm picking up the car now. Ok. See you soon, sweetie"

George switched the phone off and continued his walk towards the community parking, unaware that his life would change for the worst in nothing but a few hour.

*****

"Where is she!?" Rebekah shouted as she ran down the stairs and into the main living room.

Theresa Price finished her chapter and looked up, her eyes barely peaking out of her book. "What's wrong, honey?"

"I can't find my Lana Del Rey CD and I know she took it! Greta stole it!" Once sparked, Rebekah's rage was nearly impossible to extinguish. "I'm going to kill her!"

"Now, now" Theresa said, burying her face back in her book, "Nobody is killing anybody."

*****

David was walking home, his mind lost in the music that eminated from his headphones. He kicked around the stones that littered his street and was about to cut through the Wilson's backyard when gravity shifted and he was pulled backwards.

He fell on his ass and looked down at his school bag, a giant tear in the side where there was none just a few minutes earlier. Standing tall in front of him was Victoria Crow, a lopsided smirk smeared across that ugly face of hers.

"Watch where you're going, dumbass." She said and walked by him laughing alone.

David sighed and was tempted to yell something nasty at Victoria but he thought otherwise. Mr. Wilson waved as David passed his lawn and he wondered if the peeping old neighbour had seen what had just happened?

*****

"Stop yelling or I will ground you, Rebekah" George said, his voice calm yet stern. He wasn't even a foot inside the house when his oldest daughter - she thought she knew everything now that she was twenty - came charging down the hallway.

"SHE TOOK MY CD!"

"I DID NOT!" Greta shouted back, "I DON'T EVEN LIKE LANA DEL REY!"

George was about to send them both to their room when David walked inside the house. 

"What's going on?" He asked, looking past his family, his eyes fixed on the backdoor. Everyone stopped and looked in that direction. 

Annie Lochlan was at the door. She had no clothes on and her skin was puckered and blistered. She was smeared in blood and had massive chunks of flesh ripped off her face. She was panting and there was something different about her eyes. There was no response in them. Just a blank stare.

"Annie..." David whispered.

Rebekah screamed seconds after Annie Lochlan charged, teeth barred and with hunger in her eyes.

The Infected: What Happened to David Price (1)

You thought The Infected story was over until April? Nah, I couldn't do that! So here's a spin-off, centering on the last days of David Price's life and what exactly happened to the Price family in the month leading to David's murder.



One: Neighbours

The door to the shed was slamming hard against its wooden frame. The gusts of wind and heavy rain prevented Annie from going out to close it shut. Looking out the kitchen window, Annie was getting lost in the mesmerizing storm that had suddenly overtaken Del Rio. She loved watching the rain hit the ground and the lightning strike in the distance.

One thing about storms she couldn't stand was eventual power failures. Tonight's storm was no exception and soon the Lochlan house was plunged into darkness.

"Great," Annie let out. "Karl! Get the candles!" The small brunette left the kitchen window and made her way across the room towards the computer nook. "Karl, you in here?" She scanned the room for any sign of her obnoxious nine year old brother. He must have ran up the stairs and hid in mom's room, Annie thought to herself.

She walked down the hall towards the stairs and just then her brother tumbled down the stairs.

"What the fuck are you doing, dumbass? You could have -"

At that precise moment, Karl jumped to his feet without effort and the sight of his twisted snarl made Annie gasp. She stepped back just as Karl began to snap his jaw. His eyes were hollow, the skin around them pale and streaked black with veins.

"Karl..."

"Wraghhh" Karl snapped and started to slash at his sisters face.

Annie wasn't about to stay and see if her brother was playing another of his pranks. She ran back through the kitchen and shut herself in the den. "Karl, stop it! You're scaring me!"

But Karl kept pounding on the door, snarling and spitting.

"STOP IT!!" Annie screamed, putting her hands against her ears and balling up in the corner. Tears of fear began to pearl down the young vixen's cheeks. The door began to shake violently, threatetning to break at any minute.

Annie jumped off the floor and ran towards the window across from her. She tried desperatly to slide the window open but it wouldn't budge. She slammed her hand in the window. Again.

"HEEEEELP!"

She finally managed to wiggle the window open a bit and tried to slip her way out through the tiny crack. She was halfway out when she heard the door break open and soon she felt her brother's hand on her ankle. And then the strangest of things happened. He bit her. Annie kicked aimlessly as she tried to wriggle herself through the small opening. She made contact with something hard and heard her brother snarl.

Annie gave herself one last push off the ledge and fell out the window onto the muddy grass below. Laying on her stomach with rain pouring down around her, Annie tried in vain to get to her feet. Her badly bitten leg was not strong enough to support her.

"HELP ME!! PLEASEE!!" Annie screamed as loud as she could but the storm silenced her pleas for help. The battered girl started crawling towards the parking lot. Her mom's car was parked in the driveway and she remembered that her mom always kept the keys in the glove compartment.

Come on, Annie, she whispered to herself. With all her strenght, she managed to pull herself over the chain-link fence and fell onto the concrete pathway that led to the car. She dragged herself forward, breaking the nail off her thumb along the way.

She was almost at the car. Annie reached for the door but was suddenly dragged backwards, burning her skin on the wet concrete.

"Noooo!" She tried to wrestle herself free.

Karl flipped his sisters over from her stomach to her back and pinned her down. Annie could only scream at the monster that was looking back at her. His face was covered in blisters, black puss dripping from his snarling mouth. Karl dove in and bit off Annie's nose and upper lip, skin dangling from his mouth.

"Wragghhh"

With one hand, Karl grabbed his sister by the leg and threw her back inside the house via the living room bay window.