Experiment Undead

‘You go first,’ I tell Nate.

‘Alright,’ he says, his face becoming tenser and tenser, his brows furrowing and his jaw tightening. He looks down at his hands, seemingly trying to compose himself before talking. ‘Growing up, my father was emotionally and verbally abusive toward me, but to my mother, he was also physically abusive.’

I notice a slight tremble in Nate’s voice, his hands fidgeting in his lap, his shoulders slump, and his eyes dart around, avoiding direct eye contact with me. I can see the pain and sadness etched on his face, his lips forming a thin line as he struggles to control his emotions.

’Every time I came home from school, I would wonder where my mother’s next bruise would be. She often had a black eye. Her other eye would be freshly bruised as soon as the other one had healed. She was too scared to leave the house, fearing what people would think of her state, but also in fear of my father killing her for trying to leave.

My father always said I was weak like my mother and that I’ll always disappoint him.’ Nate pauses briefly before continuing, ’I also have an older brother, Allen. He’s twenty-one and joined the army when he was eighteen. My father always favoured Allen. No matter what I did, it was never good enough for him.

My mother was incredibly distant toward me. Thinking about it now, I guess it was due to the trauma of the abuse she suffered. She didn’t like it when I tried to hug or comfort her. When I was six, I tried to hold her hand. She was in the bathtub, hugging her knees and crying. My Dad had beaten her pretty badly. Half of her body was purple from all the bruises.

She yanked her trembling hand out of mine, ‘Don’t touch me,’ she shouted at me, ‘Don’t ever touch me,’ she said in a lower, deep voice and hugged herself tighter.’

Nate’s jaw tightens even more. He looks down, shaking his head in frustration and disappointment

’It wasn’t until I was seven that she finally managed to flee, but she never took Allen or me. She abandoned us. I hoped she would have taken me with her, knowing my father was horrible towards me. I don’t know why, but when she left, it further fuelled my desire to prove myself to my Dad.

I became competitive with Allen. Everything he did, I did better, and it pissed him and my Dad off. I was confused. I thought my Dad might start to love me, to appreciate me, you know? But it only made him angrier. Two weeks before my eighteenth, Allen returned home from the army for seven days. He heard I was going to compete in a marathon the next day. Allen told me I’d probably come last and that he would also participate in the marathon to make Dad proud. I got first place, and Allen got sixth.

The moment we returned home, I was king hit by my father. It was the first and last time he ever hit me. I slowly got off the ground, stared into his eyes like I was staring down the depths of hell, and punched him back. I knocked him out cold.

Allen was furious and was about to shove me, but then I looked him in the eyes, and he knew that I was willing to fight him, that I wasn’t afraid of him. He walked away, leaving our Dad sprawled out on the floor. I went to my room, packed a bag and left. I lived on the streets for two weeks and joined the army as soon as I turned eighteen.’

‘Why did you join the army? Was it so you had somewhere to live?’ I ask him.

‘That was one reason, but the main reason was to prove my worth to my father. To become a higher rank than my brother could ever be. I wanted to see my brother and my father loathe over my success,’ he says.

I’m filled with a deep sense of sorrow and melancholy. My eyebrows slightly furrow, giving me a contemplative appearance. My lips downturn in a subtle frown, conveying my sadness.

Nate’s doleful appearance quickly changes. His pursed lips widen to a smile as he flings his head back and bursts into laughter.

I tilt my head and raise my eyebrow, ‘What’s wrong with you, Nate? Have you finally lost your mind?’ I say, tapping him on the forehead. ‘You just told me about your crappy childhood and dickhead of a father, and now your laughing like a hyena.….’

Nate stops laughing, but the grin is still there. His eyes brighten, ‘It’s funny because none of it matters now, and I’ve realised it should never have mattered. All my life, I’ve wanted to prove my father wrong to make him proud of me, but look around, Penny, we’re in an apocalypse. I was determined to over rank my brother and one day face my father again, but realistically they could both already be infected or dead. My mother, too, for all I know. Now I realise, even without the apocalypse, proving my father wrong should never have mattered. I should not have cared what he thought of me. I should have been focused on what I really wanted in life. What would make me truly happy. I’ve been trying to think about it, but I don’t know what would make me happy. All I can do for now is stay alive and survive until I figure it out.’

‘Maybe over time, you’ll learn what you want in life and what will make you happy. In the meantime, know that you’re a good friend, Nate, and know if I ever get to meet your brother or father. I’ll happily kick them in the balls for you,’ I smile.

‘Thanks, Penny,’ he says, returning the smile, ‘Well, now that I’ve told you about my shitty past. It’s now your turn to tell me yours.’

My body language shifts slightly. I lean forward, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, and my eyes grow more focused and intense. It’s clear that this is a difficult topic for me, but I’m determined to share it with Nate.

I take a deep breath. I’ve never talked about it with anyone, but something about Nate makes me feel safe enough to open up. I have a sense of trust with Nate that I’ve never had with anyone else.

’I’ve never met my biological parents. All I know is I was given up for adoption at birth, but as you can see, no one wanted me. No one wanted to adopt me. I’ve been in and out of foster homes my entire life, moving from one family to another. Each time, I hoped that this would be the one that would finally love me, but I was always disappointed.

One family had me constantly locked in a cupboard for hours on end each day. I was lucky to be fed three times a week. Another family forced me to do endless amounts of cleaning. They said it was the only reason they wanted to foster a child. That I wasn’t good for anything else, they said. Another family kept physically abusing me.

The foster father, Franklin, would constantly slap me across the head and shove me around into furnishings or onto the ground. His friends would come over, get drunk and join in. They would trip me over, push me into walls, and call me names.

After a few months, one of Frankiln’s friends would follow me to my room at night. I’d have to lock the door behind me quickly. I knew what his intentions were, and I was sick to my stomach when I learnt he had a daughter my age and another younger. So, I stole the metal meat tenderiser from the kitchen and placed it under my pillow. That night I took it. I purposely kept my door unlocked. He entered, thinking I was asleep. I felt him sit on the bed and his hand slide under my blanket. His hand slowly made its way up my leg as he leaned closer. He was about to kiss me. I gripped the hammer and swung it across his face. He fell back to the ground, crying and holding his broken jaw.

I got out of bed and gave him a look of disgust as I saw he already had his trousers and underwear down before he tried to kiss me. The corner of my lips tugged into a smile as I swung the tenderiser down, landing blow after blow on his pecker. His screams were so loud Franklin, his other friends and his wife stormed into the room to find him holding his bloodied and smashed genitalia in many pieces in his hands.

I asked Franklin and his friends who was next, as I still held the heavy mallet. My foster mother horrified, grabbed her phone and rang my social worker to take me away immediately. She said I was possessed and tried to attack everyone in the house.

That night was the last I ever saw them. It was the next day I met Jane and Doug. I had never met a foster family like them before and was shocked they said they would take me in. They didn’t know what I had done the previous night but had been told I occasionally had violent outbursts. Jane looked at them as if she didn’t believe them, but she looked at me as if she could imagine what I had been going through and could see the pain I was hiding.

Jane told me she understood and had been a child in the system too. She took my hand, and we left the facility together. It was the first time in my life I ever felt safe.

Most of the families had repeatedly told me that I was worthless, that no one would ever love me or want me, but then, I met the Toughin family and lived with them for two years until the morning the virus spread, Jane broke the news to me that she and Doug wanted to adopt me. An hour later, Doug was dead.’

Breathing deeply, my chest rises and falls heavily with each breath. The memory of shooting my father in the head flashes through my mind. I burst into tears, unable to keep any secrets to myself anymore. Nate swiftly wraps his arms around me, holding me tight.

‘The day it all started, the day the virus spread. I did something awful, Nate. I killed Doug, I killed my father, and then I helped an officer kill himself. Jane and Liam know I shot the officer. She told me never to tell anyone what I had done, but she doesn’t know I shot Doug,’ I cry.

After confessing what I had been through and what I had done, Nate’s face shows concern and empathy. His brows furrow, and his eyes soften as he rubs my back, providing comfort and support. He pulls me closer, wrapping his arms tighter around me in a protective embrace.

As I cry, Nate’s eyes begin to glisten with tears. His face remains tense, but his jaw relaxes slightly, and he nods in understanding.

‘Thank you for trusting me with this,’ he says, his face softening with empathy. ‘This is why you have had panic attacks and nightmares, isn’t it?’ he asks.

I look at him, nod, and wipe the tears from my eyes with the wrist of my jumper.

‘Was there a reason you shot the officer and your father?’ he asks gently.

I slow my breathing and tell him, ’My father had been infected. He had turned and attacked Officer Kip and bit him. He couldn’t get my father off him, so I grabbed the officer’s gun and shot my Dad in the head without thinking. Officer Kip knew he would turn. He wanted to die as a human. So, he knelt before me, held his hand over mine, gripping the gun to his head. I didn’t want to do it, but he begged me. I figured, maybe if I were ever in the same position, someone would be brave and kind enough to shoot me, whilst I’m still human too, instead of becoming soulless.

We pulled the trigger together just as Jane returned for me. She saw me do it, and she was horrified. A day hasn’t gone by where I haven’t thought of the moments I shot them.

I’ve always had flashbacks since I was little, but instead of having nightmares of being in the locked cupboard or being beaten around or the sicko trying to molest me, it’s now overlapped with all the events from the virus, including the killing of the soulless boy in the wardrobe. The memories won’t go away. I want them to stop. I feel responsible for so many deaths. I’m a bad person. A murderer,’ I cry.

Nate grabs my face, forcing me to look at him, ‘No, Penny, you’re not a bad person. You’re not a murderer. Had you not shot your father, he would have infected you, and then your mother and brother next, and none of you would be alive. You protected your family. You saved them, and what you did for Officer Kip was the compassionate thing to do. He didn’t want to turn, yet he was afraid of dying, but he had you there to help him in his last moments as a human. If you hadn’t smashed that pedo’s prick off, he might have gone on to continue raping many other little girls. You’re not a monster, Penny. You’re brave and fearless. You’re a hero. You’re Penny Toughin,’ he says, smiling endearingly at me.

‘Thank you,’ I reply gently with a sniffle.

Nate frowns, ‘I’m sorry about what you went through all those years in foster care. If I ever get to meet Franklin and his goonies or any of those monsters who hurt you, I’d kill them,’ he says, meaning every word he says.

Nate gazes at me deeply and then gently rests his hand on my shoulder. His touch is reassuring. His voice is soft and earnest as he speaks, ‘Penny, you have me now, and I will never let anyone hurt you again, I promise you.’

His words are like a balm to my soul. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off my chest, and I can finally breathe again. Although the pain of the past is still with me, having Nate’s presence is helping to make it somewhat bearable. As if we can share each other’s burdens and trauma.

‘Thanks, Nate,’ I reply, my heart overflowing with gratitude. ‘It feels strange to have told you everything, but strange in a good way.’

He smiles at me, and his blue eyes sparkle with kindness. ‘Well, we can’t change the past, but at least we have each other,’ he says.

His words fill me with hope. It’s as if a new door has opened, and I can see a glimmer of light shining through. With Nate by my side, maybe I can finally move forward and leave the pain of the past behind.

Beaming at the thought of having Nate as my friend forever, as my comrade and confidante, I hold my pinky finger up, ‘You promise? Together forever.’

He looks at the stars in my eyes twinkling with happiness and holds his little finger up, ‘Pinky promise,’ he smiles.

The wind blows my loose braids, and dark clouds fill the sky. It begins to rain lightly. I laugh and hug myself as the cold drops tickle and continue to fall. We hop down from the picnic table. Nate removes his jacket and places it over the top of the table to cover the gaps, and together we crawl under and sit together, watching the rain quietly. I feel safe and protected with Nate.

As we sit under the table, we discuss our favourite hobbies we had before the virus apocalypse. ‘I miss roller skating and ice skating. I used to do it every weekend,’ I tell him as I close my eyes, imagining that I’m skating. ‘I loved the feeling of the wind in my hair and the speed of it all. It was like flying as if all my troubles would fall off my shoulders and blow off through the wind behind me,’ I say, whizzing my arms around in the air.

Nate smiles at my enthusiasm. ‘That sounds like a lot of fun. I’ve never tried either, but I was always a big fan of swimming. I used to swim regularly at the local pool. I loved getting up early and swimming from six a.m until I had to get ready for school. On the weekends, I would swim for hours on end.’

I frown, ‘I can’t swim. The few times I went to the beach, I’d only walk along the water, ankle-deep. I would feel anxious if I got any deeper. My father and Jane tried many times to encourage me to go in a little further each time, but no matter how much I tried. I just couldn’t.’

Nate’s voice carries a hint of curiosity as he speaks up. ‘Can I ask you something?’ he asks me, and I nod in response. ‘What is it?’ I reply.

‘You always use Jane’s real name,’ he observes, his eyes searching mine for an explanation. ‘You don’t call her Mum. Why is that?’

I feel a knot form in my stomach as his question hits a nerve. I hug my knees to my chest and silently stare at my feet momentarily, trying to gather my thoughts before answering. ‘I’ve been afraid to call Jane that,’ I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. ’I wanted to call both my foster parents Mum and Dad, but I was scared that one day they wouldn’t love me anymore, and I would be returned to foster care. If I called them that, then I would be admitting to myself that they are my true, real parents. I love them so much and see them as my parents. When Jane told me they planned on adopting me, it removed my fear of loving them even more and calling them Mum and Dad, but the virus happened moments later. Doug was dying and told me I’d always been his daughter. I was able to call him Dad for the first and last time.

When he died, I stared at Jane and the horrors around me. I became fearful again. I was scared of calling her Mum, fearful I would lose her to the infected like I did my Dad. I wanted to keep that last little wall between us, hoping it would hurt less if she became infected and died. I lost one parent already. I lost my father, and I’m terrified of losing her, and more so her as my mother.′

‘It’s okay to be scared,’ he says gently. ‘But you shouldn’t let that fear hold you back from expressing how you feel. Jane loves you so much. Everyone could see that she thinks of you and treats you as if you were her daughter, her blood, just as she does, Liam, and I’m sure she would love you calling her Mum if you don’t break down that wall or accept her as your true mother, even if she were to become infected. You might one day regret not calling her how you see her.’

I take a deep breath, considering Nate’s words. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to let go of my fear and take that last step to seal the mother-and-daughter bond with Jane. Maybe I would be worse off not calling and accepting her as my mother. I glance up at Nate and offer a small smile. ‘Thank you,’ I tell him, grateful for his support.

‘You’re welcome,’ he smiles and glances down at his watch.

Let’s go wake Todd and James up. It’s their turn to keep watch and our turn to sleep,’ he says.

Nate enters the tent to wake James up whilst I poke my head over the back of the army truck to see Carrie and Todd sleeping.

I poke Todd awake, ‘It’s your turn to keep watch,’ I tell him.

‘Bugger off, you brat,’ Carrie says, rolling over.

I ignore her, and Todd sits up and stretches before jumping out, ‘Why is it raining?’ he complains.

‘Well, you see, tiny water particles form together, creating clouds. Then when they weigh too much, they fall to the ground in a myriad of droplets called rain,’ I tell Todd.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ he says, shaking his head.

‘Hey, you asked. I answered,’ I reply, as I walk away and salute.

I crawl into the tent and huddle in the space next to Nancy, and within seconds, I fall asleep.