Omega Virus (Book 1): Beta Hour (19 page)

“We
can sleep in here maybe,” I said.

Jessie
shook her head fervently.

“Yeah,
I was hoping you’d say no. I don’t like the air in here.”

With
that we stepped out of the room, shutting the doors behind us and walked to the
final room.

“Last
one,” I whispered.

Jessie
reached for the handle and threw open the door. We found what would've been a
paradise. Video game posters covered the walls, and a gigantic, probably
70-inch TV hung on the far wall. A bed with golden triangles on the blankets
sat in the center of the room
;
king-sized as well.

“We
sleep here tonight,” I said.

Jessie
smiled. “ I couldn’t agree more.”

I
checked the closet and found a girl's clothing, but nothing else. So I pushed a
loveseat up against the door and turned to Jessie, who already found her way
under the blankets. I almost joined her, but I saw a flash of her ankle bite,
and I stopped.

“I’ll
sleep on the loveseat,” I said. “In case anyone or anything tries to push it
open, I’ll feel it.”

“Okay.”
She sounded sad, but rolled over and was snoring like a lion within minutes.

I
wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed with her and snuggle. If I did,
I'd put myself at serious risk. Chances were, she'd kill me in my sleep.
Although, it almost seemed worth it.

LEVEL 22 – WEEKENDS

My mom's voice
came up the stairs. “Zachary, your friend is at the door!”

I
didn't have any friends. What the heck did she mean?

Sitting
up in bed, I looked around. Something felt different, but I couldn’t put my
finger on it. I'd gone to sleep somewhere else, but where? And how did I get
home?

As
I ran my hand through my long hair, I furrowed my brows. My hair hadn't been
long in several years.

My
mom yelled again, “I’m sending her up!”

Panic-stricken,
I called back. “Sending who? I'm not even dressed!”

Glancing
at arms and legs, a horrible truth hit me. I wore footie Mickey Mouse pajamas.
I dove out of bed and scrambled to the closet in a desperate search for
something else to throw on. Any second, my mystery visitor would make it up the
stairs.

“C’mon!”
I tugged at my closet door; it didn’t want to open.

I
pulled as hard as I could, but the old wooden doors wouldn't budge. Why were
they locked? I kicked one, hoping to jar it free, and immediately cried out in
pain. My toes cracked against concrete-like wood. I fell to the floor grabbing
my foot, feeling each toe to see if they broke.

“What
did you do that for, dumb
dumb
?” A girl asked.

Dropping
to my knees, I crawled around the side of my bed to hide.

The
girl cheered, “You’re wearing the pajamas I got you, yay!”

A
wave of confusion flowed through me. “Who is it?”

“Really?”
she asked. “You're joking, right?”

“Just
tell me!” I groaned, still pinching the pain out of my toes.

She
gave an exasperated sigh. “Oh em gee! You’d think you’d recognize your
girlfriend's voice!”

The
confusion boiled over. Girlfriend? I didn’t have one. I peeked my nose up over
the bed. The girl standing there wore a violet shirt, baggy jeans and a
backward hat. Her golden hair hung to just below her chin. Sure, I recognized
her now
;
Tiffany Gainsborough. But two things bothered
me. One—I never dated her, and two—she seemed shorter and younger
than I remembered.

“Tiffany?”
I whispered.

“I
told you never to call me Tiffany!” She snapped. “I hate that! I like the
nickname you gave me,
Tiffa
.”

The
confusion kept smacking me harder and harder. She stood with her hands on her
hips, and a backpack slung over her shoulder.

Things
had to be cleared up. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I
suppose so.” She walked in, kicked off her shoes and socks and sat on the edge
of my bed, throwing her feet onto a chair.

“How
old are you?” I asked.

“What
kind of question is that?” She scoffed. “I’m the same age as you, dumb
dumb
!”

That
couldn't be true! I jumped up and turned to the mirror. Sure enough, short and
scrawny, my face appeared rounder and still plump with baby fat.

“How
old?” I asked.

“Duh,”
She said. “Eight! We’re both eight. And I’m older by two months. Count 'em; she
held up one foot then the other; two!”

I
shook my head. “This can’t be. There is no way this can be!”

“You’re
acting funny.” She said as she searched through her backpack. “Maybe you tried
to open that closet with your head, first?”

“I
must have,” I whispered. “So we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Again,
duh.” She said. “We hold hands every day on the bus, except for today, and last
week, and the several other days this month! Why have you been so sick all the
time?”

“I’ve
been sick?” I asked.

She
stopped and stared, raising a blonde eyebrow.

“Have
you been playing hooky?” She asked. “I knew it! You got the new PlayStation before
I did, didn’t you?”

“What?”
I asked.

“Where
is it?” She cried, “And here I brought mine over to cheer you up! You dumb
dumb
!”

She
grabbed her back to leave, and I cried, “Wait!”

“Give
me your best excuse!” she said.

“I
don’t have one. I have a hard time remembering any of this.”

“You
must’ve hit your head pretty hard.” She set her bag down and leaned over,
brushing the hair from my eyes. “I don’t see a bump. And you need a haircut.
You’re cuter with it short.”

“I
am?” I asked.

“Yes!”
She pulled a gray game console from her bag.

This
had to be some crazy dream.

She
set down the game console on the floor before my TV; a fat, rounded device.
Nothing like my actual HDTV in my room.

“Is
your Uncle Beauregard still taking us to
Danteland
?”
She asked.

The
name sounded familiar. Did she mean an amusement park?

“I
don't know.” I shrugged.

I
sat down on the edge of my bed and tried hard to remember. I couldn’t even
picture my Uncle’s face, let alone if he was taking us somewhere like that.

“I
can’t wait! I’m so excited!” She did a happy dance, pointing her fingers into
the air.

“Me
too.” I lied, as I tried to figure out what Twilight Zone episode I'd landed
in.

The
last thing I could remember, we were sixteen and in high school. No one liked
me, I had no friends, and I certainly didn't have a girlfriend.

I
couldn't even remember talking to Tiffany, except when she asked me to come to
the alley. What had happened after that? Everything seemed so foreign now. Did
I fall into a coma, and just wake up? Maybe I'd gone crazy.

“Tiffany.”
I started, but she shot me a glare. “
Tiffa
, I need to
ask you something serious.”

“What?”
She sounded scared. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!
Nothing like that!”

“Don’t
scare me dumb
dumb
!” She grumbled.

She
must’ve sensed my concern, because she crossed her legs, and leaned close,
giving me her full attention.

“What
is it?” She asked. “You know you can ask me anything.”

“This
is going to sound crazy. So bear with me until I’m done. But this all happened
several years ago, if at all. We are in some weird time anomaly. We’re both
sixteen years old. We go to High School. And—”

Then
a horrible image flashed into my mind. Tiffany held a gun and backed into the
shadows of a dark place. A moment later there came a flash and a gunshot. She'd
shot herself because a Corpse bit her.

I
fell to my knees and grabbed my head, digging my nails in, trying to make pain
take the image away. Why would I have that image, unless it happened?

“Zach?
Are you okay?” she grabbed my hands, trying to stop me.

Then
came an explosion of feedback as if a microphone and speaker were too close
together. It screeched, and I felt everything around me falling, falling,
falling
. Everything went dark. Another explosion.

I
opened my eyes and found myself in my old living room, sitting in different
clothes
;
Shorts and a t-shirt. Tiffany sat next to me
crying, and my mom spoke loudly in the other room, nearly screaming.

“Beau!”
She cried in anger. “You are not taking Zach again! Not this time!”

“But
Sherry.” He said. “I must. Don’t you understand? If Grandfather doesn’t see
him—”

“I
don’t want you to go.” Tiffany cried out, throwing her arms around my shoulders
and hugging me tight. She buried her head in my chest and soaked my shirt with
tears.

“I
don’t understand,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Haven’t
you been listening?” She said, looking at me with puffy red eyes, and that
child-like face. “Your Uncle is taking you to Texas. For good this time.”

“This
time? For good?” I whispered.

Hadn’t
I always been in Texas? I thought I had been born and raised in Milpeg. I had
never traveled outside of the state before.

“He
was supposed to take us to
Danteland
!” She cried, “Don’t
you remember? Now he showed up and wants you to live with him! Put you in a
different school. We won’t ever see each other again!”

“This
has to be a mistake! Aren’t we in Texas now? Haven’t we always been?

“Zach,”
She sniffed. “You’re talking crazy again. Just like the other day when you
started saying we were in high school. We’re only in 2nd grade.”
   

“This
isn't crazy!” I jumped away from the leather couch. “This cannot be happening.”

“Watch
out!” She cried.

I
tumbled over the wooden coffee table, and my head slammed into the wall.

“Are
you okay?” Tiffany came to my aid.

From
the other room, the shouting continued, but I couldn’t make out a single word.
Tiffany rolled me over and kneeled over me, checking my forehead.
   

“I’m
okay.” I said, “At least I think I am.”

“You
think?” She asked, breathing in-between gasping tears.

Static
discharge filled my ears. I blinked, and Tiffany stood in the school hallway, a
teenager once more.

She
shook her head. “Dead.” The word began to repeat like a record.

Dead.
Dead. Dead. Dead.

“What’s
going on?” I screamed.

I
bolted upright, breathing heavy. Darkness still shrouded the room, and I
laid
under a thick blanket. Despite the coldness, someone
slept next to me, keeping me warm. I looked over and saw a girl. She had hair,
not blonde.

“Not
Tiffa
.” I breathed, but I couldn’t remember this
girl. She rolled over and looked up at me.

“You
climbed into bed with me?” She asked.

I
shook my head. “Who are you?”

“What?”

My
head began to ache, and a rush ran through me.

“Jessie,”
I remembered aloud as all my memories of the past month came rushing back.

“Are
you okay?” She grabbed me with a burning hot hand.

I
breathed in deep. “Yes, for the most part.”

“You
had a nightmare?” she asked.

“It
was about Tiffany,” I said. “It was so strange.”

Jessie
sat up. “Maybe it was her spirit trying to reach out to you?”

“Do
you think?” I started to ask, but she wrapped her arms around me and felt like
a furnace.

She
shook her
head,
holding me like a parent holds their
scared child. “You feel guilty about what happened. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I
do blame myself. I don’t think that will ever change.”

“She
wouldn’t want you to,” Jessie said. “You were childhood friends after all.”

“What?”
Frantic, I grabbed her. “What did you say?”

“Calm
down; you’re scaring me,” she said startled.

“S-sorry.”
I let go. “But you said something. Can you repeat it?”

“I
said,” she sighed. “She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“After
that!”

“I
didn’t say anything else.” She cocked her head. “Just calm down. Go back to
sleep on the sofa; it’s not safe sleeping next to me.”

I
didn’t even remember getting in bed with her. I remembered falling asleep on
the loveseat. But everything seemed so fuzzy. It had to have been the dream. I
must’ve moved in my sleep.

I
looked at Jessie, and she rolled back over, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
She shivered, and the bed shook. I'd had enough regrets. If I didn’t spend this
night keeping her warm, I'd never have the chance. I didn’t care if she turned
and chomped into me, what did I have to live for? At least, she would have died
in my arms, and I could live out my remaining time knowing that.

Lying
back down, I draped my arm around her and hugged tightly.

“Zach,
what are you doing?” She asked. “What if I bite you?”

“Then
I’ll die a happy,” I answered with more truth than ever before.

“You
can’t mean that,” she argued.

“Trust
me. I do.”

I
laid my head down on hers and closed my eyes. I felt like all had become right,
and it may have been selfish, but at least, we were both happy at a time with
almost no happiness left in the world.