You Are Me

Part 1 - Apocalypse

"You are me. Embrace me. Embrace us."

I willed myself not to shiver at the sound. They wouldn't find me, I told myself. They were still just scanning, getting rid of the easy ones first. Digging into closets would be their last resort. I was sure of it.

"We will be one, together. There is no escape."

They spoke as a singular presence in a stereo of identical, womanly voices. Each sound was perfectly in sync. Before my buddy Ethan was one of them, he used the analogy of the Borg. Big Star Trek fan. He got assimilated too.

Shutting my eyes only helped me to hear them better, and I didn't have the balls to try covering my ears. Too much of a chance I might noisily scuff something.

"You will be perfection. You will be one of us. You will be beautiful, always."

I tried to find a comfortable position where I was in the closet. Their icy-blue vision slipped into flashes behind my tired, twitching eyes.

Four days ago. At least. Maybe a week. Maybe longer. That was when it started. I didn't pay attention to the newscast. Something about a woman who was near death. They used some special technology to heal her. Some folks I talked to said it was stem cells. Another said nanosomething. Another, gene therapy.

It healed her, but it also made her like a machine. She replicated herself by pressing her hand into a victim. Ethan compared it to Agent Smith from the Matrix sequels. Can't fault Ethan there.

I've seen the conversions too many times to count. Some quick, some long.

This big black guy was running away and one of them leaped to catch him on the heel. He kept running even as his leg slowly shifted. He couldn't help but stumble, one leg thinner and shorter than the other. Somehow, he found a place to hide from them, but it was already too late.

I saw people try to cut off their affected body parts, working on the logic of a zombie movie. But it would just grow back, like it did for those things.

I knew their form vividly now. About five-three, slight, but much stronger than they looked. Their matching, long brunette hair flowed and curled like a stream near where I used to live that always spewed over its banks during a storm. They looked no older than the girls who went to my college.

All dressed in the same black sandals with no socks and the same narrow-sleeved V-neck dress down to their knees. No makeup but their lips looked so full and red I first thought they had blood on them.

Pale, peachy skin and maybe freckles. Never wanted to get close enough to know. Their breasts were enough to distract and convert a couple guys I saw.

While that black guy hid, I counted. It took him right around two minutes. The new addition left her hiding place and joined the rest. That was the longest time to conversion I saw through my shuttered window.

The shortest was a real douche I knew from my communications class. He got sacked quicker than a football quarterback holding onto the ball too long. He took fifteen seconds.

I never considered shooting myself, mostly because I saw someone who tried that. The horde just reanimated and converted her in less than a minute. I never considered shooting them either.

They just shrugged off bullets, injuries, and explosions. A guy with a katana a couple halls over lasted longer than most. Still, they overwhelmed him.

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At a point, I had a plan to meet up north with some friends, but they were soon overwhelmed too. Mom and dad never replied to any of my messages, but I didn't give them my precise info, just in case.

I stockpiled supplies in the dorm. My other roommates never returned from classes when everything went into lockdown, so I assumed the room was my responsibility. I didn't lock the doors because I knew that would just lure them. I did make sure the doorbell triggered automatically, and I stayed near the really deep closet. With several layers of clothes and junk, I could slip into the back and hide. Even if they dug around, unless they persisted and lifted all the stuff from around me, they would never find me. I hoped.

I listened. They repeated their message. I took my slow breaths and tried not to think about how much my legs and bladder ached. I waited.

It took longer than usual, but they made their way back to the door. I counted the beeps. Three coming in. Just two going out.

I tensed. They could have passed out of the dorm together, or I just missed the third. But I couldn't put traps past them. I stayed and focused on any vibrations through the wood. A second story dorm floor creaked even with the lightest step.

I had no idea how long I waited. Time felt meaningless in the dark and the faint, strange sounds outside mingled with birds going about their business on a nearby tree.

Finally, I could hear the chirping of the alarm, followed by the door creaking open. I had been right. One stayed to lay a trap. For a moment, in my dark paranoia, I wondered if another passed in while the door was open. But I reminded myself of the chime timing and resisted the urge to overthink it.

After all presence of footsteps faded, I bent my numb legs out into old coats and boxes. I clenched my mouth through the waves of pins-and-needles as I tried to move my body. Gingerly, I made my way around the soft blankets and nudged open the end of the closet.

Daylight blasted me as I widened the crack. Once I was out, I made sure not to relax. I checked everything with enough space to hide a whole person. I left nothing unchecked and didn't stand too close to the front door, where I could be ambushed. After I verified my safety, I took a long, but still tense pee with the bathroom door secured. Anything further was impossible with my clenched sphincter. Who can crap while the apocalypse is hunting for you just outside? Braver dudes than me.

I didn't flush yet and I splashed my face with a gentle trickle of water, which didn't trigger the loud thudding of the old pipes. After that, back to my room with a metal broom, my best-improvised weapon. It was pretty useless with how strong they were, but I figured the sheer ridiculousness of me wielding it might buy me a moment of confusion to escape.

I returned to the slit in the window drapes to look down at the courtyard. I'd seen everything from here, and I'd seen no one get away from them.

I peered through the opening as a finger slid across the glass. The motion put every hair on my body straight up. The window had a small balcony, and it opened at the latch. One of those that made you wonder where the safety regulations were when it was designed.

I resisted the urge to look till the clawing sounds were too much. As I checked, a feminine cheek turned towards me. I clutched the broom, heart thudding. But the voice through the window wasn't in that alien, echoing tone. It was fearful and muffled by thick glass.

"Please please. Open. Please. Oh, God please!"