Zom-B Family

by Darren Shan

  I don’t reply, but they can tell from my expression that Dan-Dan hit the nail smack on the head.

  Dad’s face darkens. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he growls.

  “I’m ashamed of you,” I hit back. “How can you let them degrade her like this? Do the right thing and execute her. Don’t rob her of any more of her dignity.”

  “We might be able to help her,” he insists.

  “No,” I tell him. “You can’t even help yourself. You’re a sad, pitiful creature, and you’ve dragged her down to your lousy level.”

  Dad gapes at me, confused and hurt.

  Dan-Dan laughs lightly. “Such a way with words. You should have been a politician like our friend Vicky Wedge. Speaking of whom, come, my darling, you have so many people to catch up with. It’s time for a tour. Isn’t that exciting? I love showing newcomers around. It’s such a pleasure to…”

  I tune out Dan-Dan’s prattle as he leads me from the room, focusing instead on my undead mother as the door closes on her, feeling more wretched than I have in a long time, wishing I could help, but knowing I’m in no better a position than she is. In fact I’m worse off. She can’t sink any lower than she has. But under Dan-Dan’s twisted guardianship, I probably have quite a way yet to fall.

  FOUR

  I’m taken back to the courtyard, then up one flight of stairs after another to the very top of the building. I’ve got an amazing view of the power station from here, the four chimneys linked by tall walls, shorter buildings attached to the east and west sides.

  Soldiers and Klanners are ranged across the top of the walls, covering every possible approach. Nobody’s ever going to spring a surprise assault on these guys.

  I’m led to a room in the middle of the north section, between the two chimneys that overlook the Thames. Long windows make the most of the view. The furniture is of the highest standard, leather chairs, a fancy glass-and-steel table, digital maps of the world spread across the walls.

  Four people are seated at the table. An elderly, white-haired, thick-limbed man, a sharp-faced woman in a smart jacket and trousers, Josh Massoglia in his army fatigues and the pot-bellied Owl Man in his customary suit, Sakarias resting by his feet, happily chewing on a metal bone. I guess the mutant dog would crush real bones as soon as it set its fangs around them.

  “We meet again, Miss Smith,” the white-haired man says.

  I grin tightly. “Mr. Bazini. The displeasure is all mine.”

  Justin Bazini was a multibillionaire and is still very powerful, even though money shouldn’t mean anything now. There was no official head of the Board as far as I could tell, but all of the other members bowed to Bazini’s authority, even the usually arrogant Dan-Dan.

  “The little brat is mocking you, Justin,” the woman says. “Reprimand her. She has to learn her place.”

  “I know my place, Vicky,” I sniff. “Where’s yours?”

  “Impudent girl,” she snarls.

  Vicky Wedge used to be an ultra-conservative politician, wary of anyone who couldn’t trace their British heritage back at least ten generations. I always thought she seemed out of place on HMS Belfast. She didn’t fit in with the other members of the Board. I wondered why they chose to include her. Now I’ve sussed it. She must have had ties to the Klan. She was the Board’s link to the hood-wearing scum.

  Justin and his cronies want to rule the world. I suppose they’ll need an army to back them if they’re to succeed. Josh’s presence is evidence that they have a close relationship with the regular military, but I guess they figured they could do with as many supporters as they could rustle up.

  Dan-Dan takes his seat and sticks his feet on the table. He’s changed into a policeman’s outfit, but is wearing a pair of pink slippers. “So nice to slip back into these,” he says, noting my surprised look. “I have such tender feet.”

  “This must be Todd,” Justin says, smiling at my dad. “Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable.”

  Dad nods stiffly and sits where directed. He looks like a naughty boy who has been called into the headmaster’s office.

  Nobody says anything to Coley. He’s beneath their interest, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. He’s happy to stand behind me with his Taser, all but invisible, ready to zap me if I make a threatening move.

  There’s a long silence while the members of the Board study me. I return their stares with disinterest, then glance over their heads at the window behind them, wondering if I could survive a fall from this height.

  “Push the thought from your head, Miss Smith,” Justin chuckles humorlessly. “The window is tempered glass. You would bounce off it like a rubber ball.”

  “We don’t take chances,” Vicky says. “Especially after what happened on the Belfast.”

  “That was a kick in the teeth, wasn’t it?” someone chortles. I look round and spot Rage standing in a corner. I should have noticed him when I came in, but I was too focused on the others.

  “I’m still angry about that,” Vicky pouts. “I loved living on the Belfast.”

  Rage shrugs, strolls over to the table and takes a seat, ignoring Justin’s frown. “I was Dr. Oystein’s man then. I didn’t know about you guys or that I could strike a deal with you. That’s changed. I’m on your team now. It’d be silly to bear a grudge.”

  “But can we trust him?” Vicky asks Dan-Dan. “What if he’s a spy?”

  “He’s a damn cold-hearted one if he is,” Dan-Dan laughs. “He killed the two Angels who came here with him.”

  “Dr. Oystein accepts the need for losses,” Owl Man says softly. “He has sacrificed many of his followers in the past. Perhaps they were simply two more to add to the pyre.”

  Rage sniffs. “You think the doc told me to kill Pearse and Conall in order to win your trust?”

  “I would not put it past him,” Owl Man says.

  Rage nods thoughtfully. “You know what? I wouldn’t either. He’s mad enough to have put me up to it, no doubt about that.”

  “So?” Justin asks when Rage doesn’t continue. “Why should we trust you?”

  Rage shrugs. “I don’t have an answer for that. You’ll take me at face value or you won’t. Nothing I say can influence you, so I’m not going to tie myself up in knots trying to convince you that I’m on your side.”

  “What does Becky think?” Dan-Dan asks slyly.

  “It’s a plot,” I tell him. “Rage is the doc’s inside man. If I was you, I’d set a fire in one of the chimneys and chuck him down it.”

  “What a splendid idea,” Dan-Dan applauds, his face lighting up. “I must try that. Not with Michael, but perhaps with one of my other subjects. Make a note, Coley, and remind me later.”

  Justin grunts, unamused. “I want you to keep a close watch on your new friend, Daniel. If he steps out of line, I’ll hold you responsible.”

  “Understood,” Dan-Dan salutes.

  Justin’s gaze settles on me again. “I underestimated you before, Miss Smith. On the Belfast I saw you only as a source of entertainment. I realized my mistake when Dr. Oystein and his Angels descended upon us. They would not have risked their lives for an ordinary team member.”

  “The doc would have come after any of his Angels,” I disagree.

  “No,” Justin says. “He would not have risked all for the sake of one. There is something different about you. Zachary and Josh have filled me in on some of your history since you resurfaced.”

  Zachary is one of the names that Owl Man likes to use. His real name is Tom White, but he prefers a series of aliases.

  “You are a resourceful young lady,” Justin goes on, “with more lives than a cat and a knack for wriggling out of the stickiest of situations.”

  “I wouldn’t call it a knack,” I mutter. “Just dumb luck and a lot of help from people I wouldn’t have expected it from.” I nod at Owl Man. “He’s let me go when it would have been easier to kill me. And Josh set me free when I was trapped underground. I still don’t know why.” I l
ook at him questioningly.

  Josh sighs. “I took pity on you.”

  “You pitied a monster?” Vicky snorts.

  “She didn’t seem particularly monstrous that day,” Josh says quietly. “When the other revitalizeds turned on one of their own, she clung to the last shreds of her humanity, even though she knew it meant her end. I figured she deserved better than to be toasted like a marshmallow. I don’t regret what I did. I’d do it again if the circumstances were the same.”

  “Then we’ll be keeping a close eye on you too,” Justin says gruffly. “Sympathy for one’s enemies is a dangerous thing.”

  “But she doesn’t have to be an enemy,” Dad wheezes, and I can tell it took a lot for him to break his silence. He squirms as the others turn to look at him. “She can work with us,” he says hoarsely. “She’s not a normal zombie. We can learn things from her. We can use her. If she cooperates…”

  “I’d say that’s a rather strong if,” Justin interrupts.

  Dad gulps. “She’s my daughter. I know her better than you do. Her head’s been turned by the people she got mixed up with. I can explain the reality of the situation to her. When she sees what we’re trying to do, I’m sure she’ll want to help.”

  “Don’t you dare speak for me,” I shout. “You know nothing about me. I was never the person you thought I was.”

  Dad smiles shakily. “Children always think that their parents don’t understand them. Trust me, sir. I have faith in her. She can be an asset.”

  “And if she refuses to heed your advice?” Justin asks softly. “If she challenges our right to rule and seeks to bring us down?”

  Dan-Dan cracks his knuckles. “He’s got a point, Todd.”

  Dad trembles, then steadies himself and grows a pair. “I’m loyal to the cause,” he says, raising his voice for the first time since we entered the room. “Nobody can doubt that. I’ve given my all, done everything that has been asked of me and more. I believe in our mission completely.

  “I lost my daughter when she was turned into a zombie. I want her back. She’s my flesh and blood, and I love her. But if she won’t listen to me… if she sets herself against us… if she truly is our enemy…” His face goes flat. “Then I’ll help Lord Wood dispatch her.”

  “That’s my dear old dad,” I sneer, trying to burn him alive with my gaze. “What a jerk.”

  “Yes,” Dan-Dan giggles, leaning forward to pat my father’s back. “But he’s our jerk. Tell me, Becky, what’s it like to be betrayed by your closest living relative?”

  “Ask your mother and brother,” I murmur. “Oh, I forgot, you can’t—you threw them to the zombies.”

  Dan-Dan’s expression is darker than I could have hoped for, but it doesn’t give me any real satisfaction, because right now I feel abandoned by the one person who should have more reason than any other to stand by me. It doesn’t matter that I have such a low opinion of him. He’s still my father, and for him to take their side against mine…

  It hurts.

  It hurts like hell.

  FIVE

  I’m escorted to a lower level. Josh, Owl Man and his dog, Dan-Dan and my dad come with me. Rage tags along as well. And of course we’re shadowed by Coley, keeping a close watch on me from behind his sunglasses, Taser always at the ready.

  “Don’t you just love this place?” Dan-Dan says as we pause by a railing to look down on the massive courtyard.

  “It’s peachy,” I say sarcastically. “I especially like all the prisoners in the pens.”

  “Dull, everyday people,” Dan-Dan snorts. “You shouldn’t bother yourself with such drab creatures. The world won’t miss them.”

  “Because they’re not white?” I ask icily.

  “That has nothing to do with it,” he says, surprising me. “I actually prefer the world with a bit of color in it.”

  I frown. “You’re not a racist?”

  “Perish the thought,” he tuts. “I only despise weak, boring people, be they white, black or any shade between.”

  “How does that fit in with your plans for a super race?” I ask Dad.

  He shrugs. “Lord Wood has been of great assistance to the cause.”

  “So it doesn’t matter that he’s not a bigot?”

  “Life makes strange bedfellows of many of us,” Owl Man answers with a wry smile. “Your father, Daniel, Josh and I have vastly differing views of the world, and our goals are not the same. But we work together because we need one another.”

  “And it doesn’t trouble you?” I press, nodding at the dejected prisoners in the pens below.

  Owl Man sighs and scratches Sakarias’s head. The dog whines happily. “This is a harsh world. I gave up caring about injustices long ago, when I realized I could do nothing to stop them.”

  “That’s cowardice,” I sneer. “If you see something wrong, you’ve got to try to set it right. Otherwise you’re as bad as those you hate.”

  “But I don’t hate anyone,” Owl Man says. “I would need to hold myself morally superior in order to look down my nose at others. I don’t. In my own odd way I’m trying to do some good before I pass on, but I don’t think that makes me better than anyone else.”

  I laugh cynically. “What good are you trying to do?”

  “Come,” he says quietly. “I will show you.”

  Owl Man takes the lead and guides us through a series of rooms that serve as his laboratory. There’s equipment everywhere, scientists working on all sorts of experiments. It’s like something out of a sci-fi film. Makes Dr. Oystein’s lab in County Hall look like a chemistry set.

  Thinking about the doc, I remember what he told us about Owl Man, how he stole a substance called Schlesinger-10, a virus that could wipe out every living human if released. Dr. Oystein said it was a milky-white liquid. As far as he knew, Owl Man gave the stolen sample to Mr. Dowling, but I wonder if he maybe kept some of it for himself. I look for anything that might be the virus as we pass from one room to another, but there are thousands of vials and bottles stored on shelves and most are marked only with complicated symbols. Besides, I doubt that Owl Man would keep such a deadly concoction in open view.

  “What’s all this for?” Rage asks. “What are you working on?”

  “I have many projects simmering away,” Owl Man says. “I spend a lot of time working on zombie-related matters, but I’m just as interested in developing cures for the common cold, ways to repair cavities in our teeth, creams to prevent wrinkling in middle-aged ladies.”

  “You never told me that,” Dan-Dan says. “I would be very interested in such a cream. I hate wrinkles. They remind me that I’m getting old, and I’d like to stay young forever, at least in appearance.”

  “I’ll keep you apprised of developments,” Owl Man murmurs, and it’s hard to tell if he’s serious or pulling Dan-Dan’s leg. “But, for all my tinkering, my main focus is the zombie gene. And this is why I have chosen to side with Todd and his kind.”

  “It also explains why the army’s here,” Josh adds. “We accept all races in the armed forces, so it’s been hard for my colleagues and me to adjust to the current situation. But Zachary has made us a monumental promise and, if he can deliver, it will change everything, so we’ve had to reluctantly pitch in and lend our backing to people we have little in common with.”

  “What promise?” I ask.

  “This one,” Owl Man says, pushing a door open and entering a room that is larger than the others. There are lots of medical tables, patients strapped to most, a variety of men and women, with a few children scattered among them. Many of the humans are moaning and writhing. Some are deformed, eyes bulging from their sockets, pus dripping from open wounds, fingers twisted into skeletal shards.

  A few of them are zombies, but most seem to be alive, albeit only just. There’s a foul odor, partially masked by a strong, sweet scent that is being pumped through the air. All of the scientists are wearing masks and protective clothing.

  “Shouldn’t we suit up?” Dan-Da
n asks, casting a worried glance around.

  “You will probably be fine as long as you don’t venture too close to any of the guinea pigs,” Owl Man says cheerfully.

  “I don’t like probablies,” Dan-Dan mutters.

  Owl Man shrugs. “You are free to remain outside if you wish.”

  Dan-Dan licks his lips and raises an eyebrow at Josh and my father.

  “I’ve been through here plenty of times,” Josh says. “I haven’t suffered any side effects yet.” He starts to cough alarmingly, then winks to show he’s faking.

  “At least give me a mask, to help block out the stink,” Dan-Dan grumbles.

  “Your wish is my command,” Owl Man murmurs, and masks are duly produced for Dan-Dan, my father and Josh. They don’t give one to Coley. He looks uneasy, but doesn’t hold back, sticking by my side as charged. I guess he’d rather run the risk of catching a disease than pissing off his child-killing master.

  “I was involved in the release of the zombie virus,” Owl Man says as we walk around the room. For a few moments I don’t process that. I just nod vaguely. Then the full impact of what he said strikes me and I come to an abrupt halt.

  “Did you just admit that the virus was deliberately released?” I gasp.

  “Surely you knew that was the case,” Owl Man says. “You can’t have thought that the sudden global outbreak of zombies was random.”

  “I knew that dangerous idiots had replicated the virus that Dr. Oystein created for the Nazis,” I reply. “But I thought it had been released accidentally or by terrorists.”

  “Terrorists,” Dan-Dan snorts. “How would any terrorist gain from the downfall of society? Now an anarchist, on the other hand…”

  “There was no anarchy involved,” Owl Man says smoothly. “It was carefully calculated by people who knew precisely what they were doing.”

  Owl Man stops by one of the restrained zombies and stares at the mewling creature with an unreadable expression.