Zombosis

By Shazard G Bansraj

A mysterious parasitic disease rapidly spreads across a tropical island, turning the infected violent and contagious. 

In the midst of the chaos, Dan, the anxious over-thinker, struggles to balance the survival of a woefully inept group of students and the wooing of his class crush. Luckily, Augie the self-proclaimed Nerd

• Language: English
• Publisher: S G Bansraj
• Release date: Oct 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781777178413

Book preview

ACT 1

Despair

Survivor Group Nightmare

The world is a dark place, full of hate and greed

Humanity is cruel and vile

It is a pathogen to the Earth

Cleanse the host of the evil invaders

Their voices forever silenced

No longer would they be able to justify their sins

A fitting end to the human parasite

~Sometimes reality is worse than your nightmares~

1

Beginning of the Nightmare

[Day 1]

~There is a right time for everything~

The door to the lecture room opened slowly, and all eyes gazed upon the student that entered. Dan was late for class again, but it didn't particularly bother him.

The lecturer paused his discussion and waited until Dan was seated before continuing. His eyes narrowed and remained fixed on the tardy student.

Dan stared at the almost illegible writing in his notebook, avoiding the lecturer's yellow eyes, which glared at the class like searchlights. He didn't like small lecture rooms, like this one, at all — it was a bit harder to avoid the attention of the lecturer here than in one of the large halls.

Scribbled names and graffiti covered the wooden finish on the desk. Dan had drawn a little owl to mark the spot he usually took when he attended class.

He began doodling something in his notebook, right next to the cartoon of himself driving a stake into the heart of a vampire. Only after five minutes did he realize that he had completely zoned out. He tried to focus.

He was seated next to Barry, who was busy watching videos on his computer and not paying the slightest attention to the lecture. The glowing yellow eyes had shifted their view to the first row of students, far away from Dan. He attempted to listen to what was being taught by the lecturer but eventually gave up, just as he always did.

Why the hell do I come to this class? whispered Dan.

You say that every time, replied Barry, chuckling.

What is he saying? How do you turn on the subtitles?

The entire class looked completely attentive, but not a single person could decipher the lecturer's coded language. His words appeared to be made from a combination of languages, including one from a long-lost ancient civilization. His accent was likened to the infamous vampires of old, so the students had nicknamed him the Count.

He looked like a vampire too, or at least like some beast from the underworld. Around his eyes were several dark, sunken rings, which made it look like he wore two pairs of spectacles. Deep creases locked his face in an eternal, menacing smile, and his skin was pale and wrinkly — obviously, his eternal life didn't mean eternal youth. He was even draped in a black cloak over his gothic suit. The only thing that was missing was a coffin to sleep in — it must have been in his castle or graveyard or wherever he lived. His eyes removed all doubt of his alignment with the forces of evil. Anyone unfortunate enough to make contact with those yellow eyes was cursed into a petrified state, at least temporarily.

Dan couldn't help but be distracted by Barry's computer. A video was playing featuring a man with fruits for hands being chased by rabid (obviously fruit-loving) animals.

Barry trembled violently as he tried to restrain his laughter, and even though he thought no one noticed, everyone did. But not one person was prepared to tell the abnormally hairy and terrifyingly large Barry to shut up and be still. Even the Count knew that his death stare would have no effect on a magic-resistant giant.

Dan groaned and tried once more to focus on the lecture, but it quickly became obvious that he wasn't going to actually benefit from listening. He should have known this before he set foot in class. However, attending a lecture, even while learning nothing, made him feel a little less guilty after skipping as many classes as he did.

His degree was just another unplanned step in his life, which had neither goal nor direction. He lived in the moment and faced life as it came at him. There's a right time for everything, and now isn't the time for this, he would often say before tossing aside his reports and procrastinating until the very last day.

Ah! Ah! Ah! laughed the Count, in a tone that perfectly mimicked the old vampire stereotype. His teeth were bared, yellow and jagged, and his eyes opened wide with red capillaries branching through the curry-coloured sclera. The class immediately responded with their own laughter, which was cut short by the explosive sound of thunder.

The small, meat locker of a classroom had not a single window, but Dan knew there were no rain clouds in the sky. The thunder was suspiciously supernatural. Or perhaps it was nothing more than someone tumbling over furniture in an adjoining room.

See me in the lab after class for the results of your assignment. The Count's final words of the class were the first Dan understood.

The students followed their lecturer out, excluding Barry, who hadn't realized the class was over, and Dan.

What the hell are you watching? Dan asked Barry, looking at the screen.

My daily dose of essential viral videos, replied Barry in a voice that sounded too high-pitched for someone of his enormous size.

Let's just go and get our assignments back. Dan slid his backpack onto his shoulder.

In his backpack was one book, a pen and a folded, white lab coat – simplicity was the most useful thing he'd learned in two years of tertiary education. He delighted in the suffering of the first-year students who had massive backpacks crammed with huge textbooks and neatly organized writing equipment.

Dan and the giant made their way up a flight of stairs and into a hallway on the upper floor. The hall was completely empty and quiet; very rarely did Dan see students here. The sharp disinfectant in the air shot up his nose and stung his brain.

Everything in this place was squeaky clean and blindingly bright. It was undoubtedly the cleanest place on campus, and perhaps, in the entire world. Grime from the bottom of shoes would just disintegrate to preserve the cleanliness. Dan used it to clean his shoes whenever he needed to.

At the far end of the hall was the principal's office, guarded by a black metal door. Dan was sure that he'd heard screams of torture coming from inside that dreaded room during one of his shoe-sanitizing visits.

Dan pushed open the doors at the other end of the hall and entered the lab. The smell was the same, only ten million times worse, but the view couldn't be more different. Where the walls should have been, thick barks of trees curled in all directions. The leaves that sprouted varied in sizes and shapes — most were green, with a few purple ones mixed in. A stone walkway and wooden tables interrupted the short green grass that covered the floor. From the ceiling hung flowers which produced the light that illuminated the entire room, and shimmering in the far corner, a small stream of water turned a little wooden waterwheel.

Most of the class had already gathered and were anxiously awaiting their results. Dan certainly didn't share their excitement. He wasn't too keen on studying this course. In fact, he downright hated it and was cross with his crew who had convinced him to do it.

TWO? someone shouted as he received his report. I got two out of ten?

Standing in front of the Count was a pear-shaped, bearded young man by the name of Omar. Omar swayed as if about to faint, his paper clutched in one hand and his hair in the other. His eyes looked like overripe berries about to explode from the stress of their own juices. Omar looked much paler than Dan thought possible, and his eyes and mouth were open wide in disbelief.

Classic Omar, Dan thought.

Dan's stomach churned as his anxiety over his own results spiked. He'd always been dreadfully afraid of failure — not just failing an exam but failing at anything. That's not to say he was successful at everything he attempted. In fact, he'd failed at a lot of things. Being the smallest, weakest kid in high school, he lost every sporting event he'd competed in, and his soccer team never scored a single goal. But even after he dusted himself off and kept on trying, he never grew to accept failure.

This course is for babies. There's no way I can get a...

Two — the same mark as Omar, who was in the foetal position on the grass floor with his thumb in his mouth. Dan looked down at Omar, whose tears were irrigating the grass. He gulped and his mouth went dry. He suddenly remembered that one time he had researched the name for the fear of failure — atychiphobia. He could practically feel it hovering over his head as he stared at the number 2 scribbled in red ink (or blood) at the top of his paper.

Barry had done one better, getting three marks. Steve, another member of Dan's crew, flipped back his dreadlocks and smiled in satisfaction as he received his paper. Bless up!

Steve had gotten the highest mark in class — eight out of ten.

These answers are correct! There's no way I could get two marks! blurted out Dan.

What do you mean? These calculations are wrong! I did not teach you this, replied the Count.

Dan had gotten too close and could see the Count's face in extreme detail. The vampire-teacher's wrinkles looked like a badly misshapen puzzle and his yellow, jagged teeth were covered in plaque and beets.

RAAAAAAAAAAAWWWR! Dan completely lost his patience.

He lifted the Count up by his neck until the wrinkled bag of bones was completely overhead. He bawled again as he hurled the Count to the back of the room.

The little man, who was barely five feet tall, sailed through the air with bulging eyeballs and a shriek from his smelly oral orifice. He crashed into the waterwheel, sending it flying out a nearby window. The water was tainted with the vampire's blood, as he lay completely still. No one in the room spoke or budged an inch.

Dan spun on his heel and kicked open the lab doors. He stomped out without looking back. His crew followed him.

Actually, that didn't happen — he had only hurled the Count across the room in his own mind. Dan was angry, but not nearly enough to engage in combat with an alleged ancient vampire, at least not without a suitable weapon.

He crammed the paper into his backpack and left the room with all eyes on him, just the same as when he had arrived late to class. Barry, Omar, and Steve followed him into the hall and kept up with his brisk pace as he exited the building. Dan was annoyed that none of his friends had added their complaints but didn't dwell on it.

The university really sank to a new low when they decided to hire a lecturer who was born before it was established, Dan added one more insult to meet his daily quota for the Count.

Before the establishment of modern spoken language. Omar only decided to speak when he was far out of the vampire's earshot.

Did you smell his breath? It's like he ate a cow pie before class, Dan added another pointless comment.

No one laughed at his crude humour and after a short awkward period of silence, Omar simply said, Oh well, I am going back to my apartment then.

Fickle Omar was clearly not as bothered by his grades as Dan was. Apparently, he'd already come to terms with his failure and just wanted to get away from everyone. He skipped off gleefully, like a childish amnesiac.

For a moment, Dan was still fuming mad. Then his anger transferred to his stomach and it growled ferociously. There was no point in being both angry and hungry.

Time to eat! he declared as he stomped his way across the freshly cut grass.

Barry and Steve followed him quietly, as Omar headed the other way.

***

It was around noon and the sun shone brightly. Tiny white puffs of slowing moving clouds dotted the clear blue sky. Students had taken refuge under the trees and buildings, avoiding the burning rays. The tropical island was in the rainy season but with such sweltering heat, it could have easily been mistaken for the desert season.

Dan walked across the stone courtyard, with Barry to his left and Steve on his right. Other students scrambled to the shade as if the sun would melt their skin off. At the time, it didn't seem impossible for someone to spontaneously combust.

The sun didn't bother Dan very much. In fact, he actually liked the feeling of warmth on his skin. The glare was a problem though. His spectacles were no use in diminishing the sun's luminosity or the dazzle from the stones beneath his feet.

Barry's normally wild and dry matted mane was drenched and flat. His green plaid shirt was soaked with smelly sweat and his ginormous trousers looked as if two packs of rival wolves had taken turns urinating on them. His giant form dwarfed the other two in comparison, though Dan was a bit taller than average himself. Barry had an awkward walk — as if he were stumbling forward to help carry his massive weight. The soles of his shoes had been worn away on one side, making his flat feet collide with the ground at odd angles. Barry was essentially an anthropomorphic mammoth with shoes.

Steve advanced forward impatiently, grinding his teeth as they approached the entrance to the campus food court. Steve was the shortest of the three, and he hid his face from the sun with his black, knotted dreadlocks. Whether this improvised umbrella deflected the ultraviolet radiation or trapped it to cook Steve's head was up for debate.

Barry pushed open the double glass doors and twisted his enormous body so that he could fit between them. Dan and Steve walked in the wake he left as he parted the crowd of people inside the food court. It was much cooler than outside, and Barry's sweating immediately stopped. In fact, it was so cold that a group of students was building a snowman in the corner.

The rectangular tables normally seated three people — or one Barry — on either side. He displaced all those seated at the nearest table, like a whale pushing aside sardines. Dan threw himself onto a seat on the opposite side of Barry's table. Steve, who had almost died from heatstroke, just barely managed to crawl onto a seat.

The area was packed with students who had occupied all the benches. Barry was the only person capable of getting a table when the place was this full, as it always was around lunchtime.

On one side of the food court were five little restaurants all in a line. Each had one countertop, two grumpy workers, and no internal seating. At the opposite end were three large shops with four grumpy workers each and seating separate from the rest of the food court. They were all ordinary in appearance except for Pizza Dungeon, which was lined with grey bricks and guarded by suits of armour.

Steve volunteered to stand in the long line that stretched from one of the fast-food outlets. He stood behind a hungry man who held his round, growling belly as if to suppress the rumbling. At the front of the line was a petite girl with purple hair who had just ordered a bucket of chicken that weighed more than she did.

Jah... Steve whispered weakly to himself, his spirit broken by the thought of his long wait for nutrition.

Barry whipped out his computer and proceeded to watch his videos again. His giant fingertips were twice the size of the keys, but he somehow managed to type faster than he could talk. He cranked the volume up to the maximum, but the speakers produced mere squeaks amid the noisy conversations of rowdy, hungry students. Even the sounds from the jumbo wall-mounted screens were completely drowned out.

Dan was not the type of person who would openly talk about his feelings. His friends had no idea that he had the biggest crush on the girl who had just walked in with her clique of friends.

Her name was Kelly, and she was a pretty girl with perfect skin, raven hair and eyes always accented with thick, black eyeliner. She was guarded by a tall, slender girl and a stocky guy who looked like he spent three hours in the gym every day.

Dan's eyes were fixed upon her as she gracefully glided to a table that had been reserved for her by the rest of her entourage. Despite sharing half of their classes for almost a year, Dan was unsuccessful in penetrating the shield that was put up by Kelly's crew.

Still, he spent more time planning how he could ask her out than preparing for his classes, labs, and exams combined. He wrapped his fingers around the dog tag that dangled from his silver necklace.

She sat at the far end of the court, and her musclebound friend put his jacked arm around her. Her eyes strayed in Dan's direction. He immediately turned to Barry, who still hadn't shifted his view from the computer screen.

Dan spent almost as much time inside his own mind as he did in reality. In his dream world, he had destroyed thousands of evil dragons, rotting zombies, and abhorrent demons, perhaps even millions. Now he was saving Kelly from her wicked werewolf boyfriend.

As Dan delved deeper into his daydream, Barry finally spoke, Interesting...

What is? asked Dan.

It has begun... said Barry in the most ominous tone he could muster.

What has?

The zombie apocalypse.

What?

No more school.

Dan didn't bother to ask for Barry's explanation this time. He just sat quietly and stared.

Look at this video. Barry pointed a gigantic, sausage-like finger at his computer screen.

If this video is anything like the fruit hands video, then it should be funny, at the very least, thought Dan, convincing himself to temporarily trade his view of Kelly for a look at Barry's computer. The video was dark and the sound was barely audible over the noise in the food court. Dan could only just make out a silhouette of a person tackling someone to the ground and violently clawing and biting the victim.

Looks like a poor student film, said Dan.

They say the infection can be transferred to humans and may possibly be airborne. Barry still didn't shift his eyes from the screen.

Who filmed this? asked Dan, unconvinced of the video's legitimacy.

Steve had arrived and placed three greasy boxes on the table when Dan asked, So, do we have vampires or werewolves on campus now?

I just said 'the zombie apocalypse', man. How can you have vampires and werewolves in the zombie apocalypse? said Barry, chewing on his enormous fingernails with coffee-stained incisors.

Now that you mention it, the Count is clearly a vampire. Maybe that's him in the video! We can use it to get him fired! I also strongly suspect that dude over there is a werewolf. Dan pointed his nose at Kelly's burly friend whose body hair was as thick as a wolf's coat.

Dan opened his greasy box, trying not to get any oil on his fingers. It was like trying not to get wet while on a leaking pirogue about to go over a waterfall.

Steve squinted at the video with his mouth ajar. What the ass? Dat is some kinda joke or what, bai? He flipped back his dreadlocks and took a seat next to Dan.

Barry is convinced that the zombie apocalypse has begun, said Dan with a grin. But there's no way zombies could possibly destroy humanity before the machines do!

I like aliens, bai! said Steve. Alien apocalypse, bai!

There's no way an alien civilization would destroy us before we destroy ourselves! argued Dan.

Yes, bai!

I'd rank the machine apocalypse as most likely, followed by zombies, and aliens last.

No, bai!

They're zombies! Barry pounded the table with his mammoth fist.

We woulda hear ah official announcement if the students was in danger, bai, Steve continued.

Steve was the type that scared easily, while Barry actually liked being scared. Dan was more skeptical about events that seemed supernatural, despite constantly comparing perfectly normal human beings to vampires, werewolves, giants and other mythical creatures.

You know, a zombie apocalypse might actually be a nice change of pace, said Dan, with a mouthful of succulent chicken.

Be careful what you wish for, bai! said Steve, shuddering at the thought of his chicken coming back to life for revenge. He closed his eyes and took a huge bite of the juicy fried meat.

Steve's food was the greasiest of the three. The chicken was submerged in oil and the potato wedges were plump after having absorbed as much as they could. On top of that, he had put a thick layer of blood-red tomato ketchup and pepper sauce. Unable to quell his disturbing thoughts of zombies, Steve felt nauseous and lost his appetite. One bite was like stabbing a