Part 1

"Nothing could help him now", said Maggie as she took a bite of her sandwich, "the tumor has spread too quickly." I sighed and looked at the half-eaten apple in front of me, wishing I could do something to save him or to slow down the process because maybe if there's even the slightest chance for him then maybe there's a slight chance for Oliva too.

"Turn on the news," Maggie asked in between bites. The news isn't even news anymore.

"We know everything they're going to say. 'Neo-zombies spotted', 'America is in a state of panic', ' neo-zombies have yet to be spotted',' neo-zombies have reached central Mexico." I stood up and walked towards the door to leave. Almost like a whisper, she said: "maybe if you stayed on the team you could have found the cure". I stopped and looked at the white tile floor of the hospital "you know why I left".

For the past four years, the United States has been at war with neo-zombies. We call them neo because they are not like the zombies we grew up learning about. They aren't the dead back to life but rot along the way, eating brains and mumbling-grumbling everything. These started in a small town in Washington and it spread quickly through the states until the president decided to keep all non-infected Americans to the right of the U.S. They kept the others to the left ― or so they've been trying. I was part of the research team to examine them to try to figure out how to stop the virus or even better: cure and reverse it. They yet to have reached our primary goal but they have discovered they don't run any faster than an average human and they act like any other animal in the world ― when hungry, all the focus goes towards food and with that one single motive they develop elaborate plans to get what they want. In other words, they are capable of thinking at an almost advance level.

I was chosen to be part of the team. I didn't choose it but the pay was enough to keep me alive. In the current economy we lived in, ten dollars wasn't enough to even buy a bag of cookies (cookies are very rare these days). The rich fled to safe islands and the important officials were taken care of enough to take care of the rest: the middle and low class. But with so much money taken aboard and even more being spent on research for the neo-zombies and other diseases, so little was left for the civilians. With my husband missing and Olivia in treatment for cancer, I took the job to pay the bills. Olivia isn't my daughter, I found her at a very young age and took her in so I consider her mine.

When I enter Jay Jackson's room, he is staring out the window and humming "it's a small world" again. That's all he seems to remember these days but just melody, the lyrics were forgotten. I take a seat next to him and wait until he's done. We sit in silence for a few more minutes, as our daily routine for the past 3 months. I help him unto his bed and bring him a yogurt and apple juice. As I watched him eat I thought of what kind of person he was before he ended up here. Before he was diagnosed with cancer.

I caught myself wondering about the family he must have had or the things he might have enjoyed. I wondered a lot about the things he does now: the humming of "it's a small world" and why that specific nursery rhyme, what's inside the locket around his neck, and the scar behind his left calf.

Seconds after changing his hospital gown screams were heard from outside. I ran towards the window and watched as neo-zombies raced towards the entrance, some attempting to climb. My eyes scan the walls protecting our province― nothing. Just about three feet from the right side a dozen holes can be seen. "They tunneled their way in," I gritted my teeth in anger. "Damn them."

Someone must have pulled the emergency handle after the first scream because the door was locked and the window bars were dropped. I quickly made my way to Jay expecting him to be just as panicked as I, but he was very calm almost as if he had expected it.

Loud crashes were heard from the halls. The zombies made it to the fourth floor― nobody reached the fire lever. I ran to the bathroom for the flamethrower I hid from the hospital. I hoped if I lived through this the officials would be able to look past this violation. A bang came from the room and I held back tears.