Category : Stories
Sub Category : Science Fiction
“It won’t work,” Zachary declared, watching the screen just as intently as the three other scientists. Though they could easily be called brothers and sisters. Their plant had finally developed its fruit. It was pale pink, glossy with an organic fluid that resembled spinal fluid, and had the exact consistency and smell of a human brain.
It took years- too many years -to develop the organism between the four of them, in their research complex two miles beneath central Nebraska.
Though they were some of the last humans, they had decided to eradicate the invaders. It took a mere month of planning to decide on their strategy. One that could easily reach all corners of the world, and quickly destroy them.
They made a plant.
The plant bore terrifying resemblance to a living brain, but it was the size of a shed, and it was only the prototype. There were several other batches that were still growing under the protective shade of UV lamps, along with the ashes of thousands of failures.
Six months ago they had sent a drone to the surface to plant the bulb. It had taken most of April to germinate. May saw the stalk thicken and stretch, and in June, the largest blossom in the world opened.
The drone was half buried in the ground and angled to observe the process- and the inevitable reaction.
After a frenzied pollination, the fruit started growing. The Pons were the seeds. If all the auxiliary tissue was eaten, then about two dozen bulbs would be released, and would hopefully roll into some soft dirt.
Finally, it was ripening, and the four of them, after ten years spent leaning over microscopes and basking in artificial light, could barely recognize the first that stumbled into view. It had been a decade since they had seen one.
The Zombie looked fairly undamaged, with sallow skin that draped over bone and muscle. Beyond one badly torn shoe, it was naked. Few still existed with extensive damage or clothes. Those things rotted. The Zombies, a shadow of the people they once were, avoided scuffles and spent the summer months in the shade. They've survived.
Now they're all crawling out of their hidey holes, lumbering through through the heat for a meal.
When the first bit into the flesh, it let out a ear piercing shriek that the scientists shuddered at. It sent the mob into a frenzy, and dozens of them rushed at the fruit. Carmen, as much as her years had jaded her, was a ghastly shade of white as she watched them scratch at the base, clawing for the fruit. Soon, hundreds were crowded around their plant, and the Zombies had started climbing on top of each other to get to the Parietal lobe.
They watched for hours, unable to tear their eyes away. After only a day of ripening, the Zombies had hollowed it out all the way to the Corpus Callosum.
The drone was walked over and blinded by the mass of undead feet and legs, but it was still fully functional by the end of the day. For the first time in years, they saw the sun setting.
Caterina, now in her forties, was grinning her seat, sipping the synthetic hot cocoa Carmen had developed. The white tiles around her work space were tinted brown from spills, and the platters of food littered the area below her desl. Despite her slovenly appearance, the virologist was a genius. She had created a neurotoxin transferable from plant to animal within only two years, and was looking forward to seeing the results.
They started hearing screeches. The Zombies blocking their view fell into writhing messes. Beyond them was an army of convulsing, dying bodies.
Jonathan, the youngest of them all but no less brilliant, started crying. “Thank God. Thank fucking God, this is beautiful,” he muttered. No one replied, watching intently.
Caterina smirked. The gray bodies started leaking. Blackish, chunky crud that splattered and spread. The Zombies, as they struggled, rubbed the toxic fluids into their skin and orifices, before stillness came.
Within the hour, the sky a dim purple, the stillness had taken the entire mob. A small number, though obviously in pain, were limping away, covered in the gunk of their kin. They will die in a matter of weeks, acting as vessels for the toxin.
Zachary turned off the console, spinning around to face his fellow scientists. He blinked his sagging eyes. For once, they were not heavy.
“It worked,” he whispered, unable to believe that they had taken the first step towards re-habitation. Believe it or not, that was the easy part. Repopulating would be the real chore. After a decade of working together, they were family, and the idea of reproducing with any of the others was repulsive.
“Zach,” Carmen said, grinning at him. She had taken out the bottles of champagne they had found years ago on a supply convoy. “I think this deserves a toast.”
Caterina bolted out of her chair, her cup of chocolate forgotten. They had so rarely tasted alcohol. Jonathan was all too eager, having been underage when the apocalypse started, a mere college grad with a gift for drones and programming. He happily took a glass.
The doctor sighed, standing up from the quilt-lined seat he had made so many years ago. Suddenly, everything felt surreal. They were going to breath actual air, feel the sun, see the ocean and everything else that they had abandoned for the sterile safety of their underground home.
