Diary Entry: The dead dont stay dead

Kyle was in the darkened conference room, the projector light splashing an occasional beam against the wall across the room. Three faces reflected back at him on the secure video screen belonged to one from the Department of Defense, one from Homeland Security, and his direct supervisor, Dr. Lorraine Hasker, Director of the CDC Special Pathogens Unit.

She did not say a word at first. Merely stared at the reports Kyle had sent her—meticulously scrolling through the data, the incident reports, and the static photos of the Vermont plant.

Then she leaned forward, her fingers knitted together.

"This is not viral."

Kyle clenched his head in agreement. "I agree."

"Explain."

He pressed a key, bringing up a medical readout. "Patient CVX-042. Declared dead at 06:14 yesterday. Three hours later, brain activity returned. No heartbeat. No respiration. But the EEG was lighting up like a Christmas tree. Spontaneous neural synchronization. No response to stimuli, and then—visual identification. Following the camera. No tissue breakdown."

"Reanimation?" General Talbot, Defense liaison, asked.

Kyle hesitated. "We didn't want to say that, but…"

Talbot snorted. "Give me a break, Doctor. That's cable news science fiction."

"We confirmed three others in 12 hours. Two were in Vermont. One was in Montana. That's only what we picked up. We believe that there are more."

Dr. Hasker cut in, her voice icy and clinical. "What do you suggest?"

"We need containment protocols in all hospitals that've dealt with exposure cases—particularly in rural areas where infrastructure is limited. Doctors aren't prepared for this. They're getting exposed without their knowledge."

"And the bodies?" Talbot asked.

"We've begun quarantining them," Kyle replied. "But it's already outpacing our capacity. We've received reports that one corpse walked out of a private hospital's morgue in Buffalo before staff even realized it was missing. They're calling it an 'administrative loss.'"

"You'll have military support," Talbot said. "We're deploying National Guard teams to hospitals and municipal morgues across key states: Vermont, New York, Montana, Ohio. If more rise…"

Kyle talked slowly. "Sir… if they blow up in a populated area, we can't get out fast enough."

Dr. Hasker didn't blink. "Then we don't evacuate."

The room fell silent.

Talbot coughed. "We'll use urban suppression forces and keep the media out. Localize it. Local panics are easier to spin."

Kyle's jaws clenched. "And when that doesn't work?"

You'll have your answer then," Dr. Hasker said. "We'll try all protocols we have, but I require your team to find a functioning mode of neutralization. Now."

Kyle didn't blink. "We've begun analysis already. One of our Vermont containment teams couldn't stop a reanimated subject with tranquilizers, electroshock, or standard tissue disruption. They were forced to… shoot it."

"How many times?

"Three to the torso. It didn't cease. But when the bullet entered the skull—complete cephalic penetration—it fell immediately."

"Destrøyed the brain?"

Kyle nodded.

Dr. Hasker scribbled some rapid note off camera. "Well now we know."

Talbot's tone grew cold. "Then that is the order. If a subject does rise, it is to be terminated immediately with precision cranial fire. Place kill-on-sight orders under extreme biological threat clause."

Kyle winced. "That is going to end badly when hospitals are not compliant."

"Then send in the military to assist."

Kyle's voice took a lower tone. "If we do this, we're officially going over from science to war. This is not going to be containment. This is going to be out-and-out conflict."

"Then we better prevail quickly."

The phone went dead.

Later, tonight

Edward crouched in the darkness of his apartment, lights off, his frame curled up in a deep, agonized rigidity on the couch. The hum within him had receded—now distant, but present. Like thunder following a flash of lightning.

He'd caught bits of the news. Not from Kyle himself—but from the Shadow Man, who always heard first before others.

They're learning, the Shadow Man breathed. Slowly. Painfully. But the veil is lifting. They now know how to kill one of us.

Edward shut his eyes. "They'll start asking questions. About me."

They already are. But I am quiet now. They won't be able to find me again unless I allow it.

"You said it wouldn't get out like this."

I said it wouldn't get out without a signal. Now the world is listening.

Edward breathed out through his teeth. His fingers spasmed—unwillingly. He looked at them, curled them. They functioned. Still his. But heavier now. Warm.

He didn't sleep that night.

Somewhere, someone had just died. And if the figures were right, they were already rising from the dead.