URGENT: Letter From Moira

In the Command Center, we’ve been completely wowed by the strength and courage of Moira Jones—a Blue Brigade member who fights daily to survive… just not usually against the undead. Not until now.

We received this letter from her yesterday evening. Stay strong and use your smarts, Moira! Those are the best two weapons one can use to defeat all opponents. ::salutes with crossbow::

TO: ZSC Command

I’m not supposed to be here.
     I’m supposed to be doing normal stuff like sitting in math learning things I will never ever need again and wondering if Griffin is ever going to notice me. I’m not supposed to be hiding on ward six, silent, terrified, with ‘is this the day I get eaten?’ running on a loop through my mind.
     I’m not supposed to be here.
     Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind being in the hospital. Well, not that much. Everyone’s nice here. My doctor takes good care of me. Everything smells like oranges and there’s a endless supply of popsicles. Things are quiet.
     But there’s nothing normal about this. Not anymore.
     The busloads came five days ago. Someone had collapsed at a hockey game and the entire arena had been exposed to something. Sure it was meningitis, Doctor Bell told me not to worry. And I didn’t worry. Until people started dying.
     Lunchtime. The hospital loudspeaker came on with a hiss and a pop. “Good day. This is Doctor Harris, the dean of medicine. It is hospital policy that in case of unknown contagion, no patients, visitors or staff will be permitted to enter or exit the building until the outbreak has been contained.”
     At this, every person in the building came to a stop. Total silence. The entire lobby watched as a man walked up to the door and carefully tried to open it. Then not so carefully. He pounded on the glass. He turned and I saw his face. He looked like a scared animal.
     “It’s locked. We can’t leave.”
     Panic. Shouting.
     I slid down behind the door and tried not to listen to the noise. Screams. Thuds and crunches as people tried to get out.
     Nurse Shane came to get me when the fighting started.
     “All right Moira. Time to go.”
     Nurse Shane grabbed my hand, pulled me to my feet and hauled me out the door. We hit the hallway at a run.
     “Stay with me Moira.”
     “Where are we going?”
     “Up to the sixth floor.”
     We headed down the corridor toward the stairs—and the smell hit us. No more oranges. Just vomit and pennies. I gagged.
     “What is that SMELL?”
     Shane didn’t answer, just stood still staring in shock into the ICU.
     “Stay back.”
     The screaming started. Screaming and howling. I ran to the window and saw it. The people who had died were coming back to life and eating the hospital staff. I couldn’t even see Doctor Bell anymore. Just blood. So much blood.
     Sorry I couldn’t help you Doctor Bell.
     “MOIRA RUN!”
     I turned and bolted for the stairs trying not to listen to what was happening behind me. I made it. Shane didn’t.
     I’m so sorry Shane.
     I made it to the sixth floor and blocked off the stairs. Cabinets and beds. They don’t seem to be able to push through. I’m out of oreos and the vending machine’s almost out of food. I’m going to have to go look for more food soon but I’ll wait as long as I can. There’s too many of them to go out until I have to.
     I’m not supposed to be here.
     Please send help.

~ Blue Brigade