The Last Words

From the journal of Dr. Montgomery Gates 12/24/2012

It wasn’t long before I was able to verify Timothy’s ability to weed out who was affected and who wasn’t. It was John that went first, surprising me as I was expecting Nolan.

Before locking them in I had thoroughly checked the room, making sure the phrase had not been written anywhere in there, and he was at our end of the ward, away from the other affected, unable to hear them. But within an hour I could hear a murmur coming from his cell and when I went to check on him he went mad, screaming at me at the top of his lungs.

“Get me out of here, you piece of shit! I will fucking kill you! Fuck you fuck you fuck you! I will kill you and eat you! Worm shit, milk, fucker fuck, kill you!”

So now I knew, even as the madness was setting in, he was still able to think and communicate to some degree. This would explain how some of the early reports indicated a high level of reasoning and an ability to operate guns and cars in the earliest perpetrators. Now I just had to wait to see how long it would be before he lost his ability to reason and became the animal we had seen of the others.

From the journal of Jude Guerrero 12/24/2012

After Tim Tom and I got back from another food run I spent a while writing then rereading my journal, putting cliff notes on the sides of the really important things so I could be sure to “remember” them. I also found a marker that I could write on my arms with, to be sure I would continue to understand what was going on. I couldn’t let myself drift off and suddenly have no idea what was going on and why angry people were yelling outside. A lot of people were depending on me to keep it together, to not forget. Plus, I wasn’t crazy about the idea of suddenly coming to and discovering that the world had ended all over again. I didn’t know how well I was going to take it, learning about it but not remembering. Would I even believe it? If I hadn’t seen it today, if I wasn’t still riding on the constant reminders today, would I believe that the world, everything I knew and loved, everyone I knew and loved, my Dad, my brother, were all gone? Tomorrow morning was going to be rough. At least Mom wasn’t here to see this shit. And who knows? Dad had a boat; maybe he took James and got the hell out when it all went to shit. Maybe, just maybe. I had loved that boat growing up, the old sailboat that he had restored by hand, all by himself. We had “helped” but I’m sure we had just been in the way. He had taken us out and talked about how his grandfather was a fisherman and how he had taught him to sail, how to fish, how to find and keep track of good spots, how never to tell others about his spots. Maybe he was on there now, catching snapper, him and James. Goddammit I wish I was on that boat with them right now.

It’s why I had joined the Navy in the first place, I had just loved the ocean. And I loved the idea of being on a big ass boat, going all over the world. I hadn’t even started out looking to be a SEAL. I just wanted to be on the boat. At first I was a gunner but they had moved me inside pretty quick, a little work in navigation, then on missiles, learning how to direct them. What can I say, I’m a smart guy, good at math and languages, which ended up being my downfall. When I had picked up a little Arabic during leave they suddenly started talking bud school, SEAL training. Made sense; I was fit, I was smart, once they had me studying I was picking up Arabic pretty fast, like I had English when I was young and Italian later.

And of course I was flattered, proud as hell in fact. So I went all out, dove right in, whatever, knew I was going to make my dad proud. And I made it and now, thanks to that, I was brain damaged. Of course, if I wasn’t brain damaged and in a hospital, I would probably be insane or dead by now. Funny how things work out.

I stopped writing for a while and looked out the window at the world. New York was burning. Here and there smoke was billowing, obscuring the skyline. With no one to fight them, the fires would probably spread. I went to the other side of the ward and it was burning over there too. If the fires got bigger, if they shifted, it could come here, or we could get smoked out, at the very least. We couldn’t stay here forever. Tim Tom was suddenly at my side.

“Yep, Queens is burning. Brooklyn too, Manhattan, it’s all burning.”

Now the Doctor was there. Looking down at the packs of affected roaming around. That’s the best way to describe them, packs, wandering around Wards Park like they were hunting. Some even seemed to have leaders, alphas, and they skirmished with other packs, but not to the death, not like with us unaffected. I saw what appeared to be three unaffected running but they were quickly overrun by a pack. I think they started tearing them to pieces, but I didn’t watch long. I wish I had turned away sooner.

“My God,” the Doctor said. “There’s more of them today. I suppose those who weren’t affected yesterday are now, and tomorrow there will be even more. I doubt many will escape hearing it or seeing it. How could they? And those not affected, it’s doubtful they’ll survive long. We just happen to be in the right place. There’s not many people here on the island, but there, in the Bronx, in Manhattan, there’s no real escape. And I think more of the affected may be coming here. I can see them over there on the bridge.” He pointed to the other side of the ward.

I replied, “they’re coming across maybe to escape the fires, I don’t know. Eventually, there’s going to be too many. Too many for us to hope to get out of here. And we’ll run out of food and water, or some determined ones might get in, if enough of them try, it’s possible. But it’s more than likely that we’ll run out of food and water while trapped in here.”

“Jude, I’m really glad Timothy can’t understand what you are saying. Please don’t talk like that in front of the others.”

“You know I’m right.”

“I know you are, but still, we can’t lose hope. If we do that, then we’re already dead.”

“I’m not losing hope, Doc. I’m saying we need a plan. We need to find a way out of here.”

“How?”

“I don’t know yet, but we have to think of something.”

And that’s when Kim went.

No chanting, no signs, nothing. She just attacked Eric and started clawing and biting at this face. Luckily, I was close.

At first I thought maybe it was just a fight but she wouldn’t stop struggling and when we tried to calm her down it became clear real quick that she was gone. She was downright snarling, snapping. I couldn’t hold her so I finally managed to get her in a sleeper until she passed out and we got her to a room, quick.

“What the hell happened?”

It wasn’t Eric’s fault, I guess, but I couldn’t’ seem to pass up a chance to yell at him.

“I don’t know. I was talking to Saul and she just attacked me, I didn’t do anything.”

“Nothing?”

“No, she just went crazy. I promise.”

“She’s affected,” the Doctor said.

Tim Tom started apologizing, “I’m sorry, Joe, I didn’t see that one coming. I had been watching some of the others.”

“It’s OK,” I tried to communicate to him, hoping the reassurance in my voice told him what my words couldn’t. “It’s OK.”

I felt we were lucky that he could spot even some of them.

“By the way, I think Saul is going soon.”

“Damn. OK.”

Saul didn’t take it well. He didn’t fight us, he was just sad. He didn’t want it to happen. But I think he also kind of knew already. The phrase was cycling in his mind, he said, it’s all he could think about. He had tried thinking of other things. He had tried songs and jingles. He had tried Journey. But the phrase just kept coming, he told us. He couldn’t seem to fight it.

He told me the whole phrase and I wrote it down, but not here in my journal, that would be insane.

I just wanted to have it so the Doctor could see it if he wanted to. Maybe if I just read him the beginning and the end, so he would know, but maybe it wouldn’t affect him, and then maybe he’ll know if he’s heard or seen the whole thing. But honestly, the way we were all watching the news, the things he was looking up on the internet, the chanting by the affected, I don’t know how he wouldn’t have heard the whole thing. But he seems fine, so far.

Before the end of the day we had to lock up everyone except Dr. Gates, Tim Tom, Eric, Cassie, and me. Tim Tom and I might be immune, thanks to our fucked up brains. And Cassie, well, from what my journal says she’s always been scared of radio, TV, and the internet, and since this started she’s kept her ears covered and been careful about what she’s seen. But Eric and the Doctor, why aren’t they affected yet? For safety’s sake we decided they should sleep in a locked room too, and Tim Tom or I can let them out in the morning. Unless, of course, they’ve lost it.

I’m really not looking forward to tomorrow morning, waking up not knowing what the fuck is going on, then finding out the world has essentially ended. I wonder how far it’s gone now. How many unaffected are left out there? Not that I’m going to remember worrying about this tomorrow, except for what I wrote in here. For a little extra help I found the marker and wrote on my arm.

I sure hope that helps.