Zom-B Family

by Darren Shan

  “I had no vested interest in the program,” he says. “I only wished to be able to continue my experiments. But when I saw which way the wind was blowing, I sided with those who would clearly have the power when the situation shifted.”

  “Who were they?” I ask numbly. “The members of the Board?”

  “Among others,” he nods. “There were all sorts of people who were keen for the zombie revolution to progress smoothly and swiftly. Men of wealth like Justin Bazini, politicians like Vicky Wedge, soldiers like…” He stops. “I was about to say Josh, but you were not part of this, were you?”

  “No,” Josh says tightly. “I’m just trying to clean up the mess. I would never have involved myself with anything so insane.”

  “If only others in your position had felt the same way,” Owl Man sighs.

  “I don’t get it,” I mutter. “Why release the virus? They’ve ruined everything.”

  “That’s not how they see it,” Owl Man says. “The world was in chaos. Too many people draining its natural resources. Global warming. Pollution. Wars that served no purpose. The population needed pruning. They tried other ways, but nothing could offer as swift and sure a result as the release of the zombie virus.

  “The timing was far from ideal. I urged them to wait another ten or twenty years, when we would be better equipped to control the restoration of order once we had opened our Pandora’s box. But they were impatient. Their secrets had started to leak. They feared exposure and a public backlash.

  “There was no defining meeting, no gathering of leaders, tyrants and business heavyweights. The majority simply arrived at a consensus through a series of phone calls and e-mails, and it was decided to press ahead. So we shipped samples of the virus around the globe, to every major city, and on the agreed date our operatives uncorked the vials and let the virus work its wicked wonders.

  “Bases for our forces had been prepared in advance, and we moved our troops into them, holding them back until the initial riots had subsided. We also granted sanctuary to leaders who were on our side, wealthy contacts like Justin and Daniel, and others who we felt we might need. Those who hadn’t curried favor with us were left to their own devices. I must say, whatever else, we managed to rid the world of a lot of ineffective politicians. For that, if nothing else, we should be thanked.

  “While the virus was being released across every continent, more of our operatives disabled satellites and brought the communication networks crashing to their knees. That isolated pockets of humanity, made it difficult for survivors to get in touch with each other. We crippled our own species, removing the tools that would have enabled people to restore order by themselves.

  “And that,” he says with a thin smile, “was how the world ended.”

  SIX

  I can’t believe the matter-of-fact way that Owl Man has broken this news. Rage is surprised too, though he doesn’t seem as upset as I am.

  “The aging process was another factor,” Owl Man says as I stare at him wordlessly. “As Daniel intimated, the rich and powerful do not like to grow old. I suppose most people don’t, but when you have more to leave behind, it must be all the harder. To spend a life accumulating great power and wealth, only to be cut off from it all after a mere handful of decades…”

  “That’s why I don’t believe in God,” Dan-Dan huffs. “What sort of a maniac would give us so much, but deny us a decent measure of time to enjoy it? If we were the creation of an ultimate being, He would have bestowed immortality on the leaders of men, the pharaohs, kings and queens, trailblazers like myself.”

  “You’re too modest,” I growl.

  “Truly great men have no need for modesty,” he counters. “That’s a weakness in those who are, for some strange reason, ashamed of their greatness.”

  “Many of my experiments are linked to revitalization,” Owl Man continues, tenderly stroking the cheek of a woman whose tongue is far larger than it should be, sticking out of her mouth like a giant slug caught between her lips. “Daniel and those like him crave the longevity that is yours, Becky. They would prefer it if we could grant them thousands of years without having to turn them into zombies, but if we can guarantee the restoration of their consciousness, many will settle for an undead existence.”

  “Not me,” Dan-Dan says passionately. “Zombies can’t reproduce. I haven’t sired any heirs yet, but I plan to one day.”

  “Is that in case you run out of darlings to torture and kill?” I taunt him.

  Dan-Dan’s eyes narrow dangerously, but he says nothing.

  “Unfortunately I have not had much success on that front,” Owl Man says as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “There have been advances, and we have come close to a breakthrough several times, but so far it has eluded us.”

  “Can’t you just give them the same thing that you took?” Rage asks.

  “Took?” Owl Man rumbles, his features twisting.

  “Yeah,” Rage says. “Whatever you injected yourself with, the strain that gives you some zombie features but not all.”

  “I did not inject myself with that foul abomination,” Owl Man says, offended by the suggestion. “I was content with the natural span of my life. I had no wish to extend it by becoming a semi-living freak.”

  “That’s not what Dr. Oystein told us,” Rage says.

  Owl Man shrugs. “The good doctor knows much about my circumstances, but not all. If he thinks that I chose to become this unfortunate creature, torn between the worlds of the living and the undead, he has misjudged me.”

  “Then what happened?” Rage asks.

  “Mr. Dowling,” Owl Man sighs. “I have worked with him at various times over the years. As I noted earlier, sometimes life sets us up with strange bedfellows. He is demented but a genius.

  “Mr. Dowling accepted me as his partner, but he did not approve of my human status. He prefers to surround himself with mutants, beings he has converted with his own variations on the zombie virus. I resisted his offers to turn me into one of his subhuman beasts, but he would not take no for an answer. He subdued me and infected me with a unique strain. It had killed all of those on whom it had been previously tested. I should have died in agony.”

  Owl Man falls silent, his huge eyes distant. Sakarias senses its master’s change of mood and licks the back of his hand, trying to restore his spirits. Owl Man rubs his faithful dog’s head, then smiles thinly at me.

  “Mr. Dowling let me keep a sample of that strain, and I have reproduced it over the years, in an attempt to improve on it. So far I have failed. A few of Daniel’s allies have tried it, when they were close to death of natural causes and desperate, but all have perished in great torment.”

  “Have any chosen to become mutants?” I ask.

  “That option is not open to them,” Owl Man says. “Mr. Dowling has not shared the formulas for his more successful concoctions. I have tried to copy his work, but with limited results.”

  “Tell her what our main aim is,” Josh says.

  “Yeah,” Dad nods. “I’m sure she’ll see things our way when we explain what we’re trying to do.”

  “Ever the optimist,” I say witheringly, then cock an eyebrow at Owl Man.

  “As I told you a while ago, I wanted to wait before releasing the zombie virus. The main reason was because I hoped to have an antidote in place, which could be distributed among survivors. It would have immunized the living against the virus so, if they were scratched or bitten by a zombie, they would not turn.”

  “We could fight them on our own terms then,” Dad says. “With our superior weapons and brains, we could wipe them out in a matter of weeks.”

  “That was the original plan,” Owl Man says. “Immunize those who were part of the operation, release the virus, let the zombies decimate the ranks of humanity, then immunize the remaining survivors, eliminate the zombies and those we did not care for, sweep away the carcasses and establish a society of our choosing.”

  “That was a good plan,” Dan-Dan
says. “Like Zachary, I wanted to wait. But Luca, Justin and the others didn’t think there was time. There had been leaks. If the masses found out what we were up to, they would have rioted.”

  “I would have fought them if I’d known,” Josh says sourly.

  “So why don’t you fight them now?” I challenge him.

  He shrugs. “It’s too late.”

  “If they were foul then, they’re just as foul now,” I insist.

  “No argument there,” he says. “But, as foul as they are, they’re the only hope we have at the moment to return control to the living.”

  “But they won’t do that,” I argue. “They’ll keep control for themselves, crush anyone who isn’t the same as them. This will be a world of masters and slaves. Is that what you want?” I nod at the people strapped to the tables. “Owl Man called them guinea pigs. That’s how he sees them. Dan-Dan too. But they’re still human in your eyes, aren’t they?”

  Josh sighs and looks away. “You can’t fight the system,” he croaks. “Not when the alternative is undead anarchy.”

  “That’s not the only alternative,” I tell him. “There’s Dr. Oystein.”

  “Oh yeah,” Rage snorts. “The guy who believes he’s on a mission from God, that Mr. Dowling is a representative of the devil. We’d be really safe in his hands.”

  “Dr. Oystein is a good man who only wants the best for the living,” I say stiffly. “You know that’s true, so don’t act like it isn’t.”

  “You place too much faith in the doc,” Rage jeers. “But even if he was as good as you believe, do you honestly think he’s the one to lead humanity out of the wilderness? He told you all he had to do was kill Mr. Dowling to set things right. But it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it, Owlio?”

  “Please don’t call me that,” Owl Man says with a pained look.

  Rage laughs and waves a hand around at the human subjects. “This is the only way to fight back if we’re serious about stamping out zombies. Personally I don’t give a damn. I like things the way they are. The world will be a dull place if these guys get their way. But, if you’re as interested in the welfare of the living as you claim, this is the way forward.”

  “Not if it involves imprisonment and human experimentation,” I say stubbornly.

  “The doc experimented on humans,” Rage reminds me. “Hell, he experimented on us. He didn’t ask you for permission when he injected you with the vaccine, did he? Even though he knew you’d probably die young because of it.”

  “That was different,” I growl. “He did it because he had to. But he felt guilty every step of the way. He sometimes had to do bad things, but he would never have joined forces with the Ku Klux Klan and creeps like Dan-Dan.”

  Rage cackles bitterly and starts to retort, but I don’t let him.

  “This is wrong,” I tell everyone, drowning out Rage as he tries to speak again. “This can never be the right way to go about securing peace. I won’t ever side with you monsters.”

  “But we need you,” Dad cries. “We can learn so much from you.”

  “It’s true,” Owl Man says. “We have a few revitalizeds, but each one of you is different. The more tests I can run, on as wide a selection as possible, the better our chances of cracking this puzzle.”

  “You can help us learn and develop,” Dad says, reaching out to grasp my arms. Then he remembers what I am and stops, frustrated. “Don’t you want to help us find an antidote that will let us win this war? Or something that maybe allows us to restore the brains of those like your mother?”

  “Not if it means tyrants like Dan-Dan lording it over people like that,” I sniff, nodding at the nearest shackled victims. “To be honest, Daddy dearest, I think the zombies would do a better job of running this world than you and your hood-wearing buddies.”

  Dad stares at me, stunned. He tries to say something, but is cut short by Dan-Dan. “You know what this means, don’t you?” he booms merrily. When Dad looks at him blankly, Dan-Dan says, “The minx has turned us down. She won’t work with us. That’s bad news for humanity.” A shadow passes across his face and he licks his lips sinisterly. “But good news for Dan-Dan. You’re mine now, girl.”

  Dad winces, but says nothing to contradict Dan-Dan’s claim. Nobody does. And I know, in that instant of appalled silence, that I’m truly, surely doomed.

  SEVEN

  Dad and Owl Man try to change my mind, but I ignore all of their rationalizations, threats and pleas. It’s a foolish move. I should play along, win their trust, wait for an opportunity to escape. But I can’t be bothered with games and lies. I’d rather stick to my guns and get this over with as swiftly as possible.

  When Owl Man sees that I won’t budge, he demands my enforced participation in their program. He wants to chain me up in his lab, so that he can experiment on me at his leisure. But Dan-Dan overrides him. “She’s mine,” he says smugly, pulling rank. Owl Man’s furious, but he can’t do anything about it.

  Coley escorts me back to my cell and locks me up for the night. I’m not too bothered about what lies ahead. I can feel myself coming to the end of my journey, and in many ways it’s a relief to be powerless and facing the final curtain. I’m tired of the constant struggle.

  The door opens again early in the morning. I wasn’t expecting them so soon. I thought Dan-Dan would want to sleep in late and make me wait. But I guess he’s eager to get started.

  My dad has been sent with Coley to collect me. He looks downcast when he enters ahead of the armed guard. Finds it hard to meet my gaze. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you to reconsider?” he mumbles.

  “Nope,” I say brightly.

  He frowns. “You sound like you’re looking forward to this.” When I grin at him, he snaps, “You’re not a martyr. You won’t achieve anything by letting them tear you apart. It’s a pointless waste.”

  “Not entirely pointless,” I smirk. “It’ll make you feel bad.”

  “You reckon?” he sneers.

  “Of course. You’re leading your own child to her torture and execution. You’ve put your racist hatred before your duty to your daughter. That’s gonna eat away at you worse than any cancer ever could.”

  “And that makes you happy, does it?” he spits. “You’re willing to throw away your existence just to hurt me?”

  “You don’t get it, Dad,” I sigh. “It’s not that I want you to suffer. I want to redeem you. Regardless of everything else, you’re my father and I love you. I always hoped you’d change, that you’d put the bigotry and bullying behind you, and become an ordinary, nice, loving dad. That was all I ever wanted.

  “You let me down,” I continue softly. “It wasn’t all bad. There were times when you shone like a star, like when you came to rescue me at school. But your mean streak always crept back in. It’s led you to this, where you’re going to willingly walk me to my execution.”

  “That’s not my fault,” he says. “It didn’t have to go this way. You chose this.”

  “Yeah,” I nod. “But you chose your path too. You could have stood up for me last night. You could have fought them, or at least said you’d leave in disgust if they handed me over to Dan-Dan. Even if you didn’t agree with what I was doing, you could have taken my side.

  “But you didn’t. And you’re fine with that now, a good soldier, doing what you’re told.” I smile sadly. “But I think guilt will gnaw away at you. And I’m hoping it will make you question your life and the creeps you’ve committed it to. If you turn good, and strike back at them because you hate them for what they made you do to me, then this won’t all have been for nothing.”

  Dad shakes his head. “That won’t happen. You’re an ignorant girl who doesn’t understand the ways of the world. I’d do anything I could to save you, but if you throw yourself off the edge of a cliff… Well, what sort of a fool would I be if I leaped after you?”

  “A loving fool,” I tell him softly.

  Dad scowls, starts to argue with me again,
then grunts angrily. “Come on,” he says. “We’ve wasted enough time. Lord Wood is waiting.”

  I step out of my cell, Coley following close behind. Dad edges in front of me and guides me up a few flights of stairs to Dan-Dan’s quarters. He knocks on the door–a huge wooden door with studs in it, like you find in castles–and it’s opened by a young boy, no more than eight or nine years old.

  “Who is it, Ciarán?” Dan-Dan calls.

  “Todd Smith,” Dad says when the boy looks at him questioningly. “I’m bringing my daughter to him, as arranged.”

  “Todd Smith,” the boy shouts.

  “How wonderful,” Dan-Dan purrs, trotting into sight. He’s wearing a foil space suit, silver boots and gloves, every last bit of him covered, holding a domed helmet under one arm.

  “Off on a voyage to the moon?” I quip.

  “It seemed appropriate,” Dan-Dan giggles, twirling for my benefit. “After all, I do recall promising on the Belfast to put you through a universe of torment when I finally got my hands on you.”

  Dan-Dan puts on the helmet and steps in front of me, closer than he dared come when I could have sunk my fangs into him. He stares at me hungrily from behind his tempered glass visor. I have nothing to lose, so I quickly snap my neck back then head butt him. He falls away from me, yelping, but the glass holds.

  Coley zaps me with his Taser and I collapse in a pain-wracked huddle. Dad bends to help me. Then he remembers that I’m the enemy and he straightens again.

  “I knew you’d do that,” Dan-Dan chuckles, getting to his feet. “I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t. It shows you’re up for a fight. That’s good. You wouldn’t be nearly as much fun if you were coming to this broken and spiritless. I love it when they struggle.”

  Dan-Dan faces my dad and purses his lips. “Your loyalty is a lesson for us all, Todd. Many talk the talk, but few walk the walk. I know this can’t be easy, but you’ve stayed true to your beliefs, putting the welfare of the collective before your own. In my eyes you’re a hero.”