INFECTED (Click Your Poison) by James Schannep Page B

his hands to slow you. He extends an open hand for you to return his syringe.
    Once you do, he moves in on his guinea pig. The undead man snaps his teeth and claws at the doctor, but Deleon is able to stab him with the syringe and back away.
    “What now?” Sims asks.
    “Just watch.”
    The zombie twitches and turns onto its back. He reaches a clawed hand up, but it’s not the same. A look of recognition comes over his eyes. Human recognition. A noise, barely audible, comes from the man’s throat. It sounds something like a hoarse, “What?” He gasps and spasms once more.
    Then the legless man dies, blood and bodily fluid flowing out of his corpse onto the gymnasium floor. “It didn’t work,” Tyberius says.
    “Yes, it did. He died because of his injuries, not because of the serum.”
    “How can you be sure?” Hefty asks.
    “I’m sure. And in another few hours, I’ll be using the next batch on myself.”
    “All right, Doc, I hope you’re right,” Cooper says. “‘Cause I’ll kill you myself if you turn.”
    “What do we do until it’s ready?” you ask.
    You each look at one another and Guillermo picks up on the pause. “Ven conmigo! Comida, si?” He rubs his stomach, along with an “mmmmmm” sound, and pantomimes eating from a spoon. He then backs away and waves to you to follow him.
    •   See what Guillermo has “cooked up” for you.

    MAKE YOUR CHOICE

Dead of Night, Rise of Day

    Y ou lean against a tree, fighting sleep, your eyes jumping at every leaf blowing in the midnight breeze. This, in theory, is your last night out in the woods. If you make it through tonight, tomorrow you’ll be at the compound, swapping stories with other survivors and receiving a well-deserved pat on the back for your fortitude.
    Would you have made it this far without Rosie? Probably not. But what does that matter? There won’t be a sign out front saying, “Only Those Strong Enough To Make It Here On Their Own May Enter.” At least… you hope to hell there won’t be.
    She’s asleep right now. You’re giving her that—the gift of sleep under a watchful eye. Restful sleep. Maybe she wouldn’t have made it this far without you. You’re helpful, and if nothing else, you’ve proven that other people are alive. Hope is invaluable.
    There’s a crunch on the leaves in the distance. This would have to happen while you’re on watch, wouldn’t it? You strain your eyes, trying to see out in the darkness, but the cloud covering the moon makes this night darker than humanity’s future prospects.
    You look back to Rosie; she’s sound asleep, cradling her rifle. She’ll be ready in case you need to wake her. You look back toward the sound. There’s a human silhouette creeping in toward you, but it’s much smaller than normal. As it gets closer, you realize it’s a young Boy Scout, lost from his troop. Kind of makes you wonder: did he get lost before or after he became a zombie?
    You move away from the tree, lift your axe, and prepare to do your gruesome deed. Even if he’s undead it still feels wrong to kill a kid. But it’s easier when you realize that if you don’t, he’ll just try and earn his Feed on the Living Merit Badge.
    You take him out with swift ease, slightly appalled at just how natural your movements felt. Now you wonder why the heroes in movies with evil kids or dolls had such a hard time dispatching said devil-spawn. Stuff like that doesn’t scare you anymore, now that there are real monsters in the world.
    When you turn back toward the tree, you see Rosie awake and holding her rifle. You didn’t even hear her stir. “It’s almost dawn,” she says. “Let’s pack up and get out of here.”
    *     *     *
    The marshes. Despite the bright day around you, you see darkness within as you approach. The canopy blocks out much of the light, giving the swampland a dim but still visible appearance. You’re immediately glad you waited until morning.
    It starts to form slowly, with a