A Covert Affair
November 17, 2013 Journal Entry #1763 Dr. Jonah Smith
Since this may be my final entry, I feel I must start at the beginning…
The year was 2013 and the world was still waiting for the inevitable nuclear apocalypse that would turn them all into raving zombies. If they only knew what I was brewing here deep inside the mountains, they would be afraid. Very, very afraid.
Four years ago, President Obama hired a secret society comprised of three people. General Adams, a woman, and I were sworn into confidentiality and brought to this mountain laboratory. Our families were led to believe we were dead. Our names were erased from existence. There was no proof that we were alive.
It started with a can of Coke and a needle full of toxins. Toxins that were created by man and polluted over generations until they evolved into a super compound. The kind of compound that could change an oft-decorated general into a callous cannibal. The kind of compound that could take something inherently evil and make it four times more evil. The kind of compound even the Devil himself would refuse to take.
I tested it over and over again until I had it just right. It took so long, I needed more test subjects. A simple ad run in the newspaper and offering a decent sum of money in exchange for chemical testing was genius in our starving economy. They lined up at the doors, all willing to become human guinea pigs without a single question about what they were getting involved with. Those without families, who wouldn’t be missed, were chosen first. And thus, the experiments began in earnest.
I stocked each room carefully with cans of Coke laced with the toxins. Tiny drops that at first only made their hair fall out, and then, as their thirst grew, so too did the amount of poison. Eventually, the can was emptied of Coke altogether. The fluid replacing it was nothing but toxin.
The general changed first. His skin turned purple and his flesh began peeling away. His sense of smell became so strong that he could smell the woman next door through the concrete wall. He was strong enough to break through that wall. The woman fought valiantly but he overpowered her quickly. He broke her neck and punched through her chest, devouring her heart like a vulture.
It happened too quickly. I had not considered the strength they’d have when they changed. Because they all did. Those who survived long enough to change became purple, leprous cannibals with inhuman strength. They are numerous and are threatening to take over the lab. I have sealed us in, but I fear it’s too late. They no longer have a taste for Coke. I will have to inject the anti-zombie serum by hand and hope they do not overtake me.
Wait! I’ve got it. But will it work? Will injecting it into a can of Coke and shaking it before opening work?
There is only one way to find out.
If you are reading this, then it means I did not survive and you should RUN!
For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Allyson challenged me with “Write a piece in which a can of soda is of significant importance.” and I challenged Fran with “Write in any style using “The Bumblebee Chronicles” as your title.”
I welcome and appreciate your feedback. It goes a long way in helping me become a better writer. Thanks for sharing your thoughts in a comment.
Thanks for stopping by!