I see you looking at me. I see you in the glass, behind the glass. Stay still, stay where you are. I won't bother you, as long as you don't bother me. We can share the shelter, no problems. In the morning, when the rain has passed, we can go our separate ways, if we can get out!

OK!

You don't talk much do you, you don't talk at all! That's a good thing, you're a good thing. I wished you would stop moaning though. Oh well, tell you what, why don't I tell you my story, and you, well, you can lay there, trapped in there and continue to pathetically scrape at the glass, drooling. Raise your arm to disagree, what remains of your arm, that is! No!

OK then, here goes!

My name is Greg Rabid, yes rabid, as in mad, ranting, a crazy name, yes? I've heard all the puns, all the jokes. My friends, if they're still alive, call me Rabies. I tried to get them to stop, but to no avail. I live, lived, here about with my mother. What has happened to her, I haven't a clue? I hope she's safe, when I get the chance, I will go and find her. For now though, all I can do is survive today, and each day after this, one at a time. Don't mind the tears, just keep trying to break the glass as I talk and you listen.

All this madness, for me, only began sixteen, seventeen hours ago, I was in hospital asleep, maybe in a coma, I'm not completely sure, I had only woken up this morning and all hell had already kicked off. Well, either way I'm here now. I'm just young man by your standards I can see. I'm barely out of my teens; although now I feel old, old and spent. You could say that the sweet taste of beer and girls is still fresh on my lips. It doesn't matter though, I more the type who'd rather read books and watch films, than go out clubbing with my more reckless friends. I would happily slouch down on the sofa to watch almost anything, as long as it had bare flesh, lots of blood and gore strewn throughout. Horror and especially zombie movies had it all. I gorged on films such as; the evil dead; the night of the living dead, and laugh uncontrollably at Shaun of the dead. Yes, they were tasteless of course, but what would you expect at that age. In between books and film I also liked to read graphic novels, especially the superb; The Walking dead. And when it debuted on TV, I was in heaven. But as always in these situations, my sweet dreams have come crashing down around my feet.

It all started with foxes, I worked with foxes, I bred them, raised them and supplied them to the Medical research wing of PLEX University. And when I wasn't doing that, I was studying at the Uni itself. I was training to be a doctor of medicine, don't you know. The fox thing was simply to earn a little extra cash, just a couple of hours a week at a local farm. I was helping old man Mcgreeb with his damned fox experiment scam that he and Doctor Avorries had going. Little did I know how those diseased ridden scavengers would really ruin my day?

----------

So, here's how it went down. At Mcgreebs farm, as usual I started early, I poured a bucked of kibble into their cages, topped up their water and scraped out their waist. Straight forward really, half hour, and I was on my way to Uni. But on that day I had a guest, a rusty red cub. He was the last of the year's litter and it was my job to drop him off at Dr Avorries lab. I have a driving license, but no car, so I caught the bus. No problems. Usually, I would borrow one of Mcgreebs flatbed trucks, if I was transporting one of the adult foxes, but all the trucks were out. The cub was quiet light in its carrier, so the bus it was.

The journey was nondescript, to begin with! I just sat by myself, ignoring the riffraff around me. If only they had ignored me. The drunk at the back coughed and spluttered as he ranted at the non-existent person beside him. The thirty something brunette two seats forward wittered into her mobile. Behind me was a bus full of old aged pensioners who moaned and wined the whole way. I cranked up the track I was listening to on my I-pod and stared out of the window, and watched as houses and people pass by. I didn't notice the boy directly behind me. He must have only been 5, maybe 6, and dirty. Snot bubbled as he breathed, and his face seemed to be smothered in chocolate. I didn't see him at first, not until he chuckled in my ear, right after he had flicked open the latch on the carrier and watched as the cub jumped out and scampered down the length of the bus.

"Hey, you little Shit. What you do that for" I shouted.

The boy giggled and ran to the brunette, still on her phone. His mother I guessed.

Hearing my anger at her son, the brunette raised her middle finger at me and screwed up her face, all without even skipping a beat on her phone.

Shaking my head at her, I thought "With a mother like that what chance did the kid have. Cow"

Bending double, I poke my head bellow the seats to see where the blasted thing had gone. I needn't have bothered looking, a moment later the bus driver wailed out in pain and surprise. The bus suddenly swerved sharply.

"What the fu.." the driver cried.

The cub had somehow squeezed into the drivers cab and bitten his ankle. That is all it took to set me on a path that would ruin my life, and my death for that matter. The front of the bus collected up the oncoming car as it swerved onto the opposite side of the road. It wasn't much of an impact, easily walk away-able. It was the truck behind, who, not paying attention slammed into the car at high speed. The car sandwiched between bus and truck, simply disintegrated, its parts flying in all directions. Everyone on the bus flew through the air in a tangle of arms, legs and shopping. We bounced from chair to stanchion. Bones were broken, flesh ripped and lives taken. The young shit of a boy lay atop me, dead, his mother thrown from a window. I could see she had been crushed beneath the bus as it had flipped onto its side. Her legs still twitched, her hand lay still, her mobile in its grasp. I felt darkness surround me and I remembered no more.

-------------------------

Hey, wakey wakey! Still talking here!

Ah, good, that's it, keep at the glass. Not too much though, you've already smeared it with too much blood as it is, you won't be able to see through it soon.

Look, if we're going to be spending so much time together, then you need a name, I was thinking, as a homage to Zombies and a little bit of irony thrown in, I'd like to call you Rick. That alright with you, yes, good! Rick it is.

Well, Rick,

I'd like to say that was the worst part of my story, but guess what, it isn't. There's still a ways to go, as you'll soon see.

---------------------------------

I woke up slowly. First my hearing and then my sense of smell returned. I could hear people milling about me, jostling and poking at me. I could smell a chemical tinge in the air, bleach I think. I couldn't move at all. For reasons unknown to me, I had been restrained, strapped down to a bed. No one spoke to me, no matter how loud I screamed at them.

"Please, someone, what's happening to me?" There was no answer.

And then relief, a voice did answer me, a beautiful sweet voice.

"High there, I'm Nurse Baker. You can call me Sally. I hope you're comfortable. I've just started my shift, so you have me for the rest of the day. I'll pop in and out, so don't worry, I'll look after you"

I could hear her pottering about some more.

"I've hooked up a new saline and your dinner won't be long. It's chicken soup today. Soon as it gets here I'll hook it to your feeding tube. I bet you're hungry. OK, good, I'll be back soon"

I wanted answers, so I called to her "Thank you, but please tell me what is happening, why am I here, where is here?" She did not answer me, but instead left the room.

It seemed like an age passed me by as I lay there alone. The days came and went; the nurses came and went, all without answering any of my many questions.

I felt isolated, lonely, even though the nurses continually talked to me about the weather, current events as they fed me, changed my bed and me. One; Eve I think she was called, talked to me about her bastard of a boyfriend. I talked back, but to no avail. Lying there, I had plenty of time to think, and as I did, I began to remember that dreadful morning, the farm, the fox cub, the crash, and the kid.

Oh, the kid, he was dead, and so was his mother. The accident came back to me. The terror of being thrown like a rag doll, and the pain I felt as I collided repeatedly with the seats and roof, of the disintegrating bus. So, I must be in hospital, obviously. I tried to move my hand again, I couldn't, and neither could I move my legs or my head. I still couldn't open my eyes. I was scared. It was about then I heard a nearby door open. A slight cool breeze brush my cheek, ah, so I could still feel. There was a voice, and it spoke to me directly.

"Soooo" a rustle of paper "Greg"

"Your safe and well in hospital. Lucky for you, no broken bones, the few cuts and scrapes you received in the crash have already healed. All In all, you are a health young man" another rustle of papers.

"I don't know if you can hear me Greg, if you can, don't worry, you're in the best possible place for your condition" the speaker paused.

I began to worry, worry a lot! "What condition!!"

The doctor continued "To put you completely in the picture, you received a damaging blow to your head and neck. We brought the swelling of your brain under control, and we are happy that there is no lasting damage there, but the neck injury is a little more, tricky" the voice huffed.

"Your brain stem, just where it connects to your skull, received severe impact. The swelling isn't to bad, but there is significant bruising. That is our focus of concern. From your brain scans, we believe that you are fully conscious, but are unable to interact with us. Your condition is called; Locked-in-syndrome. Don't worry too much, we are doing everything possible to help you, and we will keep an eye on you. Best case scenario is, the swelling goes down and the bruising heals and you regain full control. Let's not worry about the worst case scenario, not yet" the huffing paper shuffler turned and left without further word.

If I could have moved, I would have run screaming out of my room, down the corridor and into the night. But of course, I couldn't, not even a little bit.

I don't remember much after that; I must have been sedated, maybe. I do remember the panic I felt as I realized what the doc had said, as the terrible truth of my situation sank in. Funny though, I do remember thinking;

"The bloody doctor didn't even bother to introduce himself"

I guess we focus on the less important things at times of high stress!

Nurse Baker came in to checked my charts "All's fine Gregory. Dinner won't be long" she said, she sounded upset, on edge, I wondered what was wrong, for the last couple of days everyone seemed to be nervous, something was wrong, but no one was saying anything. As nurse Baker left my room and the door was softly swishing back, I could hear people talking "Oh my God! They're all dead, all of them and the Zee's are trying to break in to the building, we have to evacuate" They sounded scared. I wanted to know who were dead, what a Zee was and what building they were attacking, but I had been left alone quiet in my room.

The days past incredibly slowly, yet now it seemed like time flew by at great speed. The nurses and doctors spoke little to me. It was over a week before my eyes eventually opened. For the first time since the accident, I could blink and move my eyes. Thank God, I could see. The small hospital room I had been unmoving in all this time, was sterile and white, just as it smelled. Light flooded the room through the open window and stung my aching eyes. The vertical blinds quietly rattled in the breeze, I had never noticed that before. Everything I normally listened to whilst blind was silent.

From the corner of my eye I could see the monitor that I had been hooked up to, had listened to for weeks, its screen was blank, black. I realized that I could no longer hear its soft hum anymore. I supposed I no longer needed it, the nurse must have switched it off whilst I slept, as they must have done with the lights above. Puzzled, I notice that the light beneath the door was also out. Everywhere was dark, quiet, and very eerie! Although I could not move a single muscle, except for my eyes, I felt shiver ran down the full length of my body.

No matter how spooked I had been, I must have slept again. When next I opened my eyes it was daylight outside the window. All was still and quiet. The usual din I could hear through the door, out in the corridor, was no longer there. The lights and monitors were still off. My saline drip had run dry and I realized I was ravenous. I hadn't been fed since the previous day. This was unlike the nurses on this ward. They were proud of their wing. Nurse Baker would say that this would not do. Where were they all? The clock on the opposite wall ticked on, minutes turned into hours, the sun went down, and night grew dark again, all this without the slightest interruption from a single person, no nurses or doctors, no cleaners nor janitors. Not even my mother, she hadn't missed a single visit. I was scared and lonely. I slept.

I woke again, daylight had returned, but nothing else had. Now I really, really began to worry!

"What the hell" I thought "Am I going to die here, slowly wasting away to nothing, painfully" I wanted to scream "NURSE, NURSE, HELLO. SOMEBODY HELP" I made no sound. Not even a whimper.

Day, then night passed by several more times as I screamed silently. A desperate thirst burned my throat. In a growing state of delirium, I languished in my own filth, waiting to die. That was the moment I heard a noise, faint at first, but it grew louder as it grew closer. It sounded to me as if there was a commotion somewhere nearby. A riot of shouts and screams clawed their way along the corridor and entered my room. What at first I thought was the anger of another patient, the usual thuggery against hospital staff we so often read about, soon became apparent that it was something more entirely, something dangerous, deadly, but what?

I was weak and desperate, I screamed for help. No sound issued from my lips. The scream echoed around my mind until I ranted crazily. My body remained as still as the day I had been admitted. Beyond my door I could hear a wet slobbering mewl, a deep grating breath, a chilling moan. It was an evil sound to my ears. I only stopped my crazed ranting when I heard the sudden pounding against my door. It was a slow, insistent pounding. The noise maker was trying to enter. I didn't want to meet whoever, whatever it was, but all I could do was lay and wait. With each strike on the door, it opened and closed, opened and closed, opened and closed, and;

OPENED!

"Oh dear god, no!" my blood ran cold "I don't want to die, somebody please help!!"

I silently screamed until my mind could hear nothing but my scream. The nightmare at my door hobbled towards me, blood dripping from its clawed fingers and the maw of its mouth. Its teeth bared, in a rictus grin, yet there was no humor there. In the horrific face that bore down on me, there was no life, but there was a whole lot of death. I could see my death reflected in its dead staring eyes.

Again, in my deepest moment of stress, and horror, I thought "This is just like; Dawn of the dead"

I realized, I was just a bit part in a much larger story, a story I neither new the beginning to, nor would live to see its end.

I had little time to think, although thinking was all I could do, but as the horror of what remained of a man covered in blood, moved closer, I thought "Is this a zombie. Am I really going to be killed by a zombie" and as the horror bent over me, saliva and blood dribbling across my face "I suppose it doesn't matter"

The smell of its decay race up nostrils, my gag reflex still worked, uncontrollably, I retched. The pain as his teeth sank into my neck flooded my mind like relentless strikes of lightening; his groans of satisfaction by my ear were like thunder. Like the good little victim I was, I remained quiet and still as he ate, right up until the end. Darkness covered me. It was a relief, let me tell you.

A second, an hour, maybe a day, or possibly an eternity passed by, who knew, I didn't. Then I awoke, still in my bed, still unmoving. Something lay heavy on my chest, something smothered me. Opening my eyes I could see that the horror of a man who had attacked me, who had gorged at my neck, lay still across me, himself completely lifeless. His neck also had been ripped open, but from the back. His head was almost separate from his body. Surprised, I felt my arm flinch and then move, and my other to. Both my arms rose up grasped the dead body and threw it to the floor. I sat up, scanned the room for others of his kind. Quickly I swung my legs out from under the sheets and jumped to my feet. At last I could move, I was no longer locked away in my own body "Oh, thank God". Now all I could think was "I've got to get out of here"

I jump over the dead body; I slipped on the spilt blood. Grasping at the bed to steady myself, I noticed my blood covered hands and tasted the metallic sweetness of blood in my mouth. I could feel the drying blood that covered my face. I hadn't time to think about it as I stumbled through the open doorway into the corridor. I ran down its length. There at its end, there was movement, a person, a woman I think. I couldn't see properly in the gloom. From her screams, I guessed correct. She turned away from me and ran, still screaming.

From over my shoulder I could hear a familiar mewling moan, and the crashing of doors. I did not look back, I dared not look back. The crashing turned into a stumbling run. The quickening footsteps moved in my direction. Just as the woman ahead, I also ran for my life!

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