Sample Sunday: (First rewrite) “My Zombie My”

Blog Entry: 12/04/2015 9:10 am

Waking up in absolute darkness wreaks havoc on the senses. There is no way to know what time it is, my body clock is so far off it may never right itself. I could have slept through an entire day and not known it. Fortunately, I hadn’t. As long as the battery on my watch has power, I will at least know the time and the date. I slept nearly nine hours. Sleep is a commodity hard to come by now. With the echoing screams in the distant, the constant fears one of the undead will dine on your unaware brain, and the lack of a bed, it’s amazing sleep ever tickles the inside of my eyelids. Last night was an exception. Exhaustion has a way of playing favorites with your needs. And for once, since the virus hit, the nightmares didn’t bother to sneak in and haunt what fragile bits of sanity I had left. In fact, I can’t even remember what I dreamed about. In this moment of so little joy, that was a blessing.

After such a long, deep sleep I should have awakened refreshed and ready to take on the day. In light of the current situation, that is completely laughable. So instead, the morning only brings more exhaustion.

The first task of the day was to check email. I set up an email server on the hospital network so I could allow the outside world to communicate with me. It was a stroke of good fortune the hospital had a work T-1 line, so my needs for plenty of bandwidth were fulfilled. A second server was kind enough to play host to my blog and, at some point, will also include a forum. I want to encourage as much communication as possible. What’s left of the human race will be desperate for even a glimmer of hope. If the few living humans are able to communicate with one another, they can connect and begin rebuilding communities.

That idealism gets flushed down the metaphorical toilet if I don’t crack the Mengele file and find a cure. Said cure is my primary focus.

Before I began the job of sifting through email, a visit to Suzan’s side was necessary. The girl is under constant sedation. Keeping her just under the surface of conscience should hold off the virus from taking over; at least in theory. To be honest, I had no idea what the 24/7 sedation would do to Suzan’s health. For all I know she could be slowly dying and just out of helps reach.

“Good morning Suzan. Did you sleep well?” My softly whispered greeting to an un-reactive Suzan woke Sally, who was sit-sleeping by the sedated girl’s bedside.

I might have neglected to mention Sally. She hooked up with our original group shortly before Jacob went full-moaner and perished at my hand. Sally is a newscaster. I suppose it’s more fitting to say she “was” a newscaster, as there are no more television stations actually broadcasting. The signals are still there, the people necessary to actually make television happen on the other hand…

“I slept like a princess. What about you?” I tried to add a level of jest to my voice to lighten the fact that the situation, from every possible angle, was utterly and completely fucked.

“Thanks to a nice little prescription I had filled before the world popped, I slept just fine.” Sally’s eyes were slightly glazed over, making me wonder what said prescription could have been.

Suzan could have easily popped up and sided with Sally. She lay in her bed, in the same position she was in when I last saw her. The medication worked wonders; she looked calm, at peace. I envied her that.

“Is it safe keeping her out like this?” Sally reminded me of my concern for the girl. “We really need to find a doctor.”

Could anything be more obvious at the moment? A fraction of me wanted to bitch-slap Sally for reminding me of the all-too-painfully apparent, but the truth of the matter is, she’s right. We needed a doctor and we needed one sooner rather than later. My original plan was to cast out the net and hope the fish swam right in. That plan was obviously way too passive. I had to figure out a means to find someone who could care for Suzan while I continued my work on the Mengele file, and I needed to do this right away.