Short, Light, Free
Short, Light, Free - Chapter 1: The Knowing

I’ve had a secret ever since I was young.

I could see numbers in my eyes.

I thought nothing of it when I was little.

Until I turned seven.

The numbers in my eyes decreased rapidly along with every step that I took towards the street corner in my neighborhood.

Right before they dropped to zero, I reached the corner.

I stopped.

The next second, a car whizzed past right before my eyes, just five centimeters in front of me, and slammed into a high perimeter wall on the other side.

I was unharmed.

As I watched the scene, the numbers in my eyes started to reverse and return to its closely packed state.

I grew up and I started to read. I learned how to add and subtract.

I tried to understand the numbers in my eyes.

I realized it wasn’t enough.

I asked those around me if they could see the numbers in their own eyes, too.

They were convinced that I was playing around.

No one believed me so I learned to carry the secret around, a heavy weight on my stomach.

Until I learned how to multiply and divide.

A minute is sixty seconds.

An hour is sixty minutes.

A day is twenty-four hours.

A year is thirty-one million, five hundred and sixty thousand seconds.

The number in my eyes currently shows twenty-three million.

After some rough calculations, that converted to seventy-five years.

How funny. Could this be my lifespan?

I realized that there were many imperceptible influences that would change the number in my eyes.

A test, for example.

Choosing C for this question reduced ten seconds to my life.

Erasing and changing it to B gave me seven seconds back.

Disregarding the accuracy of the answers, I completed the paper in a way that caused me to lose the least seconds.

And I received a 63 for it.

Losing the shortest amount of time did not mean that the answers were correct.

I’d thought that the numbers in my eyes could help me cheat. It turns out that I had no choice but to rely on myself and study hard.

I started answering the questions seriously.

College entrance exam.

I worked seriously through the paper once, only to realize that I had lost significant seconds.

Thinking that I’d miscalculated, I checked thrice. No mistake.

Those seconds lost converted to five years.

I erased a few correct answers and the time increased.

Sacrificing good results for five years of life.

How ironic. I could only smile a bitter smile.

After much hesitation, I chose to give up five years of my life.

I secured a high score.

And a spot in the best university in the city.

On the way home, distracted by my happiness, I carelessly fell and suffered a fracture. I had to rest for three months. The time in my eyes decreased once again but this time I knew why.

I had to pay attention to the fluctuating numbers because it could change at any split second. I didn’t want it to dip again.

Nevertheless, accidents happened.

“Stop. Listen to me. Don’t enter this tunnel,” I shouted.

“Are you insane? Why are you such a spoilsport?” my friend snapped back, displeased.

“Stop. I’m not going in,” I said firmly.

“What is wrong with you?” My friend was furious.

He slowed the car down but it was clear that had no intention of stopping.

The numbers in my eyes were dropping.

I threw myself over to the driver’s side and pulled the handbrake.

The car halted.

“Have you gone mad? What is with you?” All three of my friends glared at me.

“I’m not going in, sorry. Go on without me.” I stepped out of the car.

“This is a highway. How do you plan on getting back?” my friend asked, annoyed.

I ignored him and walked further and further away to the opposite direction of the tunnel.

The number was back up. Safe.

My friends have already driven off.

Shortly after, with the collapse of a mountain, the whole tunnel was swallowed up.

No one survived and I was left alone, not knowing what to do.

I started avoiding crowds in fear that the number in my eyes would lessen more.

I fell into a habitual silence.

I started to live for the number in my eyes and it became an obsession.

Along with time, the number decreased.

Twenty years old.

Thirty-five years left in me.

What have I done? I started to hide.

The laboratory was the quietest place in school.

My grades were decent and I was confident that I could become a scientist.

Because I would know. I would know whenever the test tubes were about to explode, be it my classmate’s or mine.

I would know and run far away.

Graduation.

I was the chief manufacturer of the company that specialized in health supplements.

Not because I was smart, but because I could keep away from danger.

I knew little about chemical compositions.

However, I would volunteer myself during experiments.

I would only go as far as putting the needle close to my skin.

Then, I would look at the number.

A decrease meant failure and no change meant success.

As for an increase…

It never happened. Not even once in the whole of five years.

How embarrassing.

Until that day.

I mixed and injected some chemical compounds into a test tube.

I was careless and I lost grip of the syringe and the substance on the needle came close to my skin.

The number in my eyes actually rose! I’ve created a medicine that could increase my time.

I memorized the composition, and from that moment, I started conducting more tests.

Each time I added a chemical compound, I would dip a needle into the new substance, aim it on my arm and look at the number.

Turning wild, I added all kinds of compounds.

Seeing a decrease in time, I would return to the previous formula and try again.

Initially, there had only been an increase of a second or two.

Later on, I managed to increase the time by tens and hundreds of seconds.

Eventually, the number started doubling.

It never stopped rising.

It felt as though I’ve invented a longevity pill.

Ecstatic, I drew a tube worth of substance and injected it into my body.

After the initial adrenaline rush, a strong pressure kicked in within my body.

I started yearning for some things.

And the number in my eyes spiked.

Non-stop.

Until it became a sideways eight.

…

“Good evening, everyone. This is May, reporting live for China News. We’ve received news that unknown creatures have been spotted in this pharmaceutical company. Follow me as I investigate the scene.”

“This way! Cameraman? Hey! Why are you running away?”

“Is there something strange behind me?”

“Ahhhh..!”

A sheet of white takes over the television screens of every single household.

Families are packing up their belongings, getting ready to flee.

At this point, all major roads are congested with vehicles and people…

Because the zombies are here.