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Zombie Eyes; Chapter One: The Idiot and The Issue

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I am an idiot.

A complete, no brain having idiot. The abandoned classroom isn’t big enough for my nervous pacing. How could I not have noticed? The teacher’s desk in front of me holds my bow and arrow bag. The arrows have been splayed out in front of me, all fifteen of them, and my arrow bag has been turned inside out, but none of that matters.

It’s not there.

My frustration gets the best of me. It snaps like a rubber band that’s been stretched to wide. I throw my right leg out and kick a three legged chair which takes down a desk on its fall down to the ground.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I mutter to the empty, cramped room kicking another chair and its wobbly desk. It’s been some time now. The amber rays of the sun no longer fill the classroom, now only a few silver rays from the moon flutter into the room. Night is always more dangerous in this life. The corpses always seem to be more active at night. Maybe it’s the cold that makes them more active? Perhaps it’s the stillness night emits?

Or maybe NoName you’re just making up excuses to avoid the inevitable?

With a defeated groan I quickly pack up my arrows, loading each of them into my arrow bag and grab my bow ready to go back out there and face my issues, but today is really not my day. I don’t need to go out and find the issue, it’s come to find me.

“Missing something?”

My head whips around to face the back of the classroom. At the once closed door stands the issue of the day, or more like issues. The boy with the dullish copper hair and liquid green eyes stands in front of the girl with the fierce red hair and the spring green eyes. Like a magnet drawn to a refrigerate my eyes are instantly drawn to his hand.

He has it, my most prized possession.

His hand clenches an old black leather journal that holds all of the answers to my past, and maybe even my future. He casually swings turns it around and around in his hands knowing that he has me utterly hooked. Slowly I lower my arrow bag and bow to the desk behind me.

“I bet you want this?” he says with a smug smirk. He leans against the frame of the door as he continues to turn my book in his hands.

“Who says I want that?” I ask. I cross my arms attempting to look like him having my book has no effect on me at all. At least I have an advantage with my shades, he can’t see who worried I truly am.

My reply wipes the smirk right off his face. The room falls silent for a pregnant pause before he steps pushes off the door frame and enters the room. The girl follows him like his shadow. She’s never a foot away from him.

“Are you sure?” he says sitting on a faded brown school desk top facing me,” it’s a very interesting read.”

He slowly untethers a leather strand that acts as a lock for the journal and begins to read aloud.

“Project XX, simulation one, patient one,” the words echo around the room making it seem a thousand time worse than they actually are,” the first infusion was not enough to make her successful on her first simulation. Another infusion will be administered.”

His eyes fly from left to right as he reads line after line of the journal’s entries.

“Project XX, simulation four, patient one. She shows immense progression in her simulations. She is now able to force a corpse away from her with complete concentration.”

That’s when it happens, the flicker begins to awaken inside of me. Both horror and terror, brother and sister, begin to rise just like they always do every time I read those very same words. Black spots have casually waltzed into my vision like it’s an open dance floor. He continues to read as if I’m not currently having a panic attack.

“Project XX, simulation seven, patient one. She has completed the task of gaining full control over a corpse, but some symptoms have risen. Some past memories have seemed to of faded. Her eyes have started to change from her natural baby blue to a vibrant glowing violet. We cannot conclude if they’re symptoms are from the prior infusions or from the simulations. We can only guess as to why these affects are taking place-”

“Enough,” says not me, but the boy’s shadow who is staring wide eyed at me. I don’t blame her wide eyed scared look. I can feel a small trickle of blood from where my nails bite into my hand. Beads of sweat have formed at my forehead and are no doubt rolling down the sides of my face. My teeth hold steady regardless of how hard I’m grinding my teeth against each other. The boy has stopped reading and is now staring at me with, is that worry?

“Are you alright?” asks the quiet voice of the girl. Her wide eyes show worry flying across them like eagles soaring in the sky. I want to snap at her and say no thanks to her and her friend, but the worried expression keeps my rude words at bay.

“I’m fine,” I grunt out instead.

The boy closes my journal with a muted thud and gets of the desk with little to no effort.

“I’ll give you the book,” he says stretching his hand out toward me like he’s offering it to me. I know this trick and no I won’t fall for it. I don’t move a muscle toward him or the journal. I look him in the eyes through my shades and can already see the but that’s going to follow his words.

“But you have to do us a favor,” he says.

Called it.

“Depends on the favor.”

What I didn’t call was the favor he wanted.

“You have to help us find our brother, and then, only then, I will give you this.”

After he said this two things registered almost at the same time. One, he said our brother which means him and the little girl are siblings. Two, helping them find their brother means traveling and interacting with other humans. That would be breaking my second most followed rule. My answer is instant. I don’t even have to give it a second thought.

“No.”

You can practically feel the hope drain out of the pair of them.

“Then you won’t be having this.” The boy says snatching the journal from between us to his chest.

“Who says I can’t just take it?” I question still in my tense stance. I’ll admit his next action catches me off guard. In a heartbeat he whips out what looks to be a white lighter that would be used to light a cigarette. With just one click he could ruin my only chance at knowing who I am.

“If you try to take it, I’ll light it on fire.” He says.

He drags his thumb down the striker and onto the pedal that ignites the gas. He means what he says and the determination in his eyes confirm it. The room fills with tension so thick it’s hard to breathe for a moment. The tension filled room stays silent for several minutes as I debate my options. What if I did try to make a snatch for the journal? There isn’t a doubt in my mind that he wouldn’t burn it without hesitation. That’s a no go there. There is only one other choice. I relax my tense muscles and give in. If I don’t get that journal there may not be any other chance for me to find out about my past, or even my name.

“Fine,” I say leaning against the teacher’s desk behind me,” but let’s get something straight,” he straightens and listens to what I have to say attentively” When I finish this favor, and I will, we will go our separate ways and never see each other again. And second, we are not friends, heck we aren’t even acquaintances, you are simply strangers who are black mailing me. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” He says with a boyish smile. Like a three-sixty turn the atmosphere changes. The boy continues to smile his boyish smile, almost as if he got away with something he was certain he wouldn’t. Even the little girl has relaxed a bit. She gives me a shy smile and steps out from behind her brother so I can clearly see her. No wonder she always hides behind her brother. She’s small. Miniature. Or even fun sized? She barely reaches her brothers waist. How has someone so small made it this far?

“Names Scotty,” the boy says reaching a hand out to me to shake,”and that’s my little sister Bunny.”

“Bunny?” I question lifting a brow at the funny name while clasping my hand with his and giving him a firm shake in a truce.

“Named her myself. It’s kinda fitting for her don’t you think?”

Very fitting indeed considering her size and the innocent calming vibes she gives off.

“Yeah real fitting,” I say pulling my hand back to rest at my side.

I knew what he would ask next and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

“So what’s your name?”

The question was simple enough as a question can ever be, but the answer was more complex then even I knew.

“I don’t have one.”

I knew their reactions before they even knew. Surprise slowly filled their eyes and slowly spread to their facial expressions.

“What do you mean you don’t have a name,” he says shocked,” everyone has a name.”

“Not me, well at least not one that I can remember,” I say.

Geez, even I can hear how depressed that sounded.

“What do you mean, that you can’t remember?”

“You’ve read the notes, I can’t remember my name or past, I can’t even remember if I have a family out there.”

I knew what would follow the look of surprise and I hate it more then the first emotion. Almost right that instant sympathy replaced the surprise in their eyes and facial expressions. Scotty drops eye contact with me and looks around the room trying not to look so sympathetic. Bunny has little tears in the corners of her eyes with her hands clenched. I think she’s trying not to cry. This is always worse than the shock and surprise. Sympathy gets people killed.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” Scotty says finally as he stops scanning the small classroom.

“Rule number one, never show sympathy it’ll get you killed.” I say turning around to grab my arrow bag and bow. I throw the bag over my shoulder and grasp the bow in my right hand. I slowly make my way past them toward the door. I get as far as three desks before Scotty asks the most obvious question.

“Where are you going?”

“Not me, we.” I say exiting the room.

“Ok, where are we going?” He says rewording his words.

“If we are gonna find your brother we’ve gotta start somewhere.” I say over my shoulder to them as I walk down the almost pitch black hallway.

“And where are we gonna start off at?” Scotty asks sounding curious a little ways behind me.

“You kids ever been to the big city?”

“No?”

“Well you guys are in for a treat.”

A dangerous treat that will hopefully scare them away and take them off of my hands.

 

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Zombie Eyes; Chapter One: The Idiot and The Issue