Abaddon

Sebastian stood at the large viewing window that overlooked the small observation room of the underground lab. Inside stood the figure that held his attention completely. A woman with matted blonde hair thrashed wildly against her chains. Guttural sounds protruded from her petite, slender figure in a way that would make people of the old world claim she was possessed. And in a way she was. Sebastian stared in silence, his eyes flicking between the heart-shaped locket with the picture of his ten-year-old girl, and the naked, unkempt woman that stood on the other side of the glass. His eyes filled with sorrow and his heart with guilt. It was a grief he had never been allowed to voice to her. Because this was his daughter. His Helen. And her mind had been twisted by Abaddon—the bioweapon he helped create.

Before mankind’s demise, this was where he would observe the test subjects. They were undesirables—violent miscreants that ate up taxpayer money. The company, through a deceptively written contract, coerced the incarcerated to sign up for their program in return for getting out of their sentences early. Once out, they would inevitably become infected and subjected to a number of inhumane tests. It was ugly. But in the eyes of the company and researchers alike, it was necessary. They discovered valuable information about these creatures. Information that Sebastian used to survive the outbreak. Sebastian participated in the project for just over a year. He was indifferent the whole time, but all that karma came back to him when he found Helen hunched over his wife’s half-eaten corpse at the onset of the outbreak. Her once happy eyes replaced with a snarl. They paid the price for his sins, and he hated himself for it.

“She’s got a lot of energy today.” Glen said with his soft-spoken voice.

Sebastian looked at Glen. He had feathery red hair and freckles. “Just fed her.”

Glen frowned. “Did it come from our rations?”

Sebastian closed the locket and tucked it in his pocket. “Caught a rabbit the other day.”

“Good.” Glen said sternly. “Supplies have been getting tight around here.”

Sebastian sighed heavily. “Good thing she can go fourteen days without food or water.”

Glen was silent for a moment, but Sebastian could feel his eyes on him. “Meet in the break room in ten minutes.” He said finally. Sebastian remained silent, and after a few eternal seconds, Glen’s footsteps started towards the door and disappeared behind the metal click of the latch.

Sebastian knew what kind of a burden Helen was. He knew they weren’t the only ones down here, and that they only survived the apocalypse due to the combined efforts of everyone in the lab. But the others had to understand the delicate situation they were in. If he could just restore her mind, everything would be fine. He just needed a little more time to perfect the cure. They had to understand, and he would make sure they did. Sebastian placed his hand against the viewing window and stared at Helen twisting and thrashing against her constraints. It should have been me. He thought. It should have been me.

Everyone was sitting around the large circular table when Sebastian walked into the break room. There were five of them in total. Rob Manfred was a tall muscular black man that served as a mechanic in the Army before everything fell. He came here with his brother James the day of the outbreak. James was seated next to him; he had a lighter complexion and was lean. Jenna Monroe was another researcher. She wore her brown hair tied up into a bun and her green eyes were magnified by her clear-rimmed glasses. Glen sat opposite of her. Sebastian approached the group and sat down.

Something was off. This didn’t feel like their normal meeting. The air was thick, and their stares were like daggers. “What’s the first order of business?” Sebastian asked.

“How’s the cure coming?” Jenna asked coldly.

Sebastian snapped her a look. “Progress is slow. You know that.”

“We only know what you tell us.” James said. His voice was smooth and calming.

Sebastian sighed. “You know my progress is slow because I don’t have subjects to test its effects.” The others exchanged disapproving looks in silence. “Am I wrong here? The zombie apocalypse was a flash in the pan. I haven’t seen an infected anywhere in the last three years.”

“Really? I see one every day.” Jenna said.

“Helen is a special case! She—”

“She’s wasting resources!” Glen roared. He stood towering over Sebastian. “Even though they’re gone, we don’t know if Abaddon remains in the world.” He turned and paced the room. “That’s why we’re still trapped in here, right? That’s why we still have to wear those god damn hazmat suits when we leave. If any animal is a carrier, then we’re fucked.” He stared off in the distance for a long moment. A constant, raspy cough was barely audible in the distance. Glen pointed. “That’s how Abaddon spread so quickly. A long incubation period. The flu season. Christmas. New Years. And then the switch flipped.”

Sebastian sighed. His anger flared, but he had to remain calm. He wouldn’t give them an excuse to kill Helen. “We all experienced it Glen.” Sebastian said softly. He remembered the news reports. The sea of shambling death that soaked the streets with the blood of their victims. It was gruesome, and especially horrifying knowing he had a major part to play with the carnage unfolding in front of him. “One minute everyone had an unknown illness and the next it was hell on earth.” He thought of his wife. Of Diane. “We all lost people, but Helen isn’t dead. Just altered. If any of you were in my position you would do the same thing.” Sebastian looked to the others. “If I can restore her mind . . . get a working cure, then we can get out of here. Go explore to our heart’s content without worrying about turning into one of those things.”

“But we’re not in your position.” Glen said coldly. “And we’re running out of fuel for the generators.”

“He’s right.” Rob said. His voice deep and authoritative. “Our usual spots are running dry. We’re going to have to expand. Take us at least a day and a half to collect and come back.”

Sebastian knew where this was going. “If we shut the vent off in the observation room then Abaddon will quickly fill it. We won’t be able to safely open the door.”

“Seb.” Glen said, his voice rife with tension. “We understand where you’re coming from. If I had a chance to save Becca, you know I would without hesitation. But we’re running out of resources. There’s no guarantee that we’ll find any more fuel, and our respirators won’t last forever. If you don’t show progress soon, then something horrible is going to happen to our cozy situation.”

Sebastian looked around the table. Everyone stared back, their eyes filled with an unspoken apology. He felt betrayed. But he knew their words held truth. “I understand.” Sebastian stood up and turned to leave.

“Seb, I—”

Sebastian turned. “If it comes down to me or my daughter, you’re going to have to kill me . . . It should be me in those chains, but it’s not. It’s my burden, my burden to have watched her be this for the last five years. It is my responsibility to fix this.” Sebastian turned towards the door. “Go on your supply run. I’ll be in the lab.”

Sebastian had been at an impasse for longer than he could remember. There were no subjects to test the cure on but Helen, and he couldn’t risk killing her. Sebastian sighed and took a long pull from the half-drank whiskey bottle—his secret stash. How long could they go on like this? And worse yet, if he did restore her mind what kind of permanent damage would have been done?

Sebastian chuckled. “So, it’s a loss.”

He was in a no-win situation. The other researchers likely saw it clearly. They tried to talk him out of making a cure. They suggested making a vaccine instead. He opened the locket and looked at the picture of Helen. A tear tracked silently down his cheek. It truly was a selfish endeavor. The rest of the infected were dead, and the need for a cure had died with them.

Sebastian took another large pull from his bottle. The truth had been staring him in the face. A truth he didn’t want to acknowledge. He had come as far as he could with his research, and all he could do is administer the cure. But he didn’t have much. His hands trembled. If he didn’t do it now, the fear in his sober mind would stop him. If he didn’t do it now, he would be stuck feeding her dead animals until the end of his days. Sebastian finished his bottle, filled the syringe with the only sample of the cure, and walked out of the lab.

The world was fuzzy under the drunken veil and he swayed gently within hazmat suit. Helen was calm within the room, save for her body convulsing with every cough. But he knew better. Abaddon programmed the body to reserve as much energy as possible until it was necessary. Once she saw him, she would jump back to life. This was going to be a struggle, but at least he knew that going in.

Sebastian waved his badge in front of the card reader next to the door. It gave a beep, and the automatic door slid open. He walked inside and the door sealed shut behind him. His heart boomed in his ears as he approached her. Helen’s coughs were wet and harsh. Mucous sprayed from her mouth with every bone-rattling cough. Abaddon would be thick in the air, even with the vents running it would be impossible to clear the virus completely with the amount she was putting out every second. That’s when he noticed a problem.

He wasn’t sure if it was his suit, the slight ringing in his ear, or his heartbeat drowning everything else out, but Sebastian couldn’t hear the whirring of the vents. Sweat formed on his brow. He wanted to pull back—to check on the vents and ensure Abaddon hadn’t been filling the room all day, but he knew if he left this room now, he wouldn’t return unless he was feeding her.

He pushed closer. Her eyes snapped to him, and she lunged. Her mouthful of brown, broken teeth snapped in front of him, and she clutched at him with jagged, broken nails. Sebastian froze. He’d been this close countless times, but it was like was staring at her with new eyes. Had he been seeing only what he wanted to see? Had he only been seeing the girl from the locket all this time? Guilt swelled inside of him. What kind of life could she truly have in this world? Helen wouldn’t have wanted this. This was a fate worse than death. Sebastian looked at the syringe. Hatred flooded his heart and he wished only for death. How could he let this happen? He couldn’t bring himself to kill her, but he couldn’t risk giving her the cure either.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian whispered. Helen continued vying for him against the chains. Sebastian’s true failure was allowing her to exist like this. She wasn’t his little girl. She hadn’t been for a long time. “We’re going to make a vaccine and get out of here.” He stared into her wild eyes. “I’ll live my life for you.” Sebastian turned his back to his painful past and walked forward into the future. But amongst the stabs of pain within him, there was a tingle of something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope.