Free Bacteria Zombies by Jim Kroswell Page B

knew that. If she did ever get better she never wanted him to know the true extent of the monster she had become, the mound of rotting flesh that she now was. The bacteria were inside of her and it was almost as if she was bending to there will because there were simply so many of them. The strangest thing was though that she sometimes felt like she could hear them talking to her, telling her to do things. She figured that it was the result of them attacking her brain and her descent into delusion. However sometimes, she felt as if they almost had a voice, like she could hear the voice of the bacteria. They seemed to be speaking in unison to her and sometimes seemed to be having a conversation with her. She simply attributed it to her delirium. She had been sick before, she had had sorts of colds and the occasional fever and intestinal infection, but to her recollection, she never felt like the invading creatures were ever trying to talk to her before. Samantha lifted her puss engorged hands to her face and began to sob.
    ***
    She held him in her arms, Dr. Samuels son, her son, the one they had created together. She found it ironic that the prodigal son that he had so often cherished, had so yearned for, was now nothing more than a heap of bones whom he had abandoned. She was there, she was trying to console the poor soul, while his father bandied around the city, acting like the super hero he always envisioned himself, always held himself up, always dreamed himself, to be. She felt disgusted by the golden halo he had so judiciously placed upon his head and felt the whole thing was nothing more than a sham if he could not even bring himself to attempt to console his own flesh and blood. She was the one risking everything, she was the one who could become infect any moment, while Dr. Samuels was miles away, safe in his little sterile office. She imagined that he never even left his small hole, his safe place, to mix with the common folk, the dying folk, that waited upon his every breath, waited for some sign of hope for life. She needed to shake off this negativity, for little Wesley's sake. He needed her, and he needed her to be in her purest form. He was waning and her heart was breaking, she felt it wasn't her felt if her mind turned towards the evil, towards the callous, as it tried to escape this inevitability. Wesley shuddered in her arms and then he looked up, "Mom, what is happening to me?" "It's okay dear, you know Daddy is going to come up with a cure. He always does, doesn't he?" "Yes, he always does. He's my favorite. My eyes hurt and my skin hurts." "Show me where it hurts dear." Wesley motioned all over his body and his mother's heart broke just a little bit more. She didn't know why she gave him false hope, but it was the only medicine she had at her disposal, small little pills of hope, and what is stronger than a hope that a parent is going to rescue a child, especially in the mind's eye of a child. She pulled Wesley closer to her and hoped, hoped that Dr. Samuels, her horrible horrible husband, would save their child.
    ***
    Samantha sobbed and sobbed. It seemed like hours. She could hear moaning in the rooms on either side of her's. It was as if the entire hospital was moaning all at once, together. Then, in the midst of her cries, she heard foot steps headed towards her. She looked up and the thick black wavy hair of Renaldo was coming towards her. She gasped. She didn't know where to run. His face was not his own. She saw horror on his face. It was like he was looking at a monster and the disappointment that emanated from him was palpable as a physical force, pushing her down. She told him not to come and he ignored her and now he was to administer the final blow. "What happened to you? You were so pretty!" She couldn't really believe what she was hearing. She had deep feelings for Renaldo and she was at once torn by the sadness instilled by his exasperation but also at his unbelievable shallowness. She