Parasite ; Sleeper Cells ; Kingdoms of the Dead

by Ian Woodhead

  “Do I want to know what you’re going to do with that?”

  Mortimer shrugged. “I’m hungry,” he replied. “I’m going to go shoot a dog.” He giggled at his little joke, knowing full well that Daniel wouldn’t have a clue as to the reference. He grabbed the handle and pulled open the door, aware that Daniel was now right beside him.

  Even without turning around, Mortimer could tell that Daniel had left his high and mighty attitude back with his silly building blocks. It was about time too. The other Mortimer wouldn’t have tolerated that kind of intolerable behavior from anyone, especially from both his brothers. Why should he?

  He turned his head and gazed into Daniel’s huge, cow-like brown eyes. He looked absolutely terrified. He had good reason to. Martin had always directed the majority of his aggression towards Mortimer’s twin.

  Mortimer placed his finger to his lips, then made his way along the vast corridor, remembering how he’d moved in the sim. It didn’t take long for his cat-like movements to resurface. Even with the extra weight, Mortimer found, to his joy, that he could still move quickly without making any noise.

  The same couldn’t be said for Daniel, but thankfully, he stayed well behind him. Mortimer passed his own sleeping quarters and crossed to the other side of the corridor. He wanted to ensure that he wasn’t going to be seen. Martin’s private little domain started about a meter from where Mortimer was crouching. Considering what he had planned, Mortimer should have been as terrified as Daniel. If this went down as planned, it wouldn’t be a severe beating. Oh no, his older brother would have murder on his mind. Strange then how it took him a stupid amount of self-control to stop himself from breaking out in a fit of giggles.

  He managed to get his emotions back into some sort of order by imagining how the other Mortimer would behave in this situation. That guy would not be acting like some naughty kid about to throw some fireworks into the boy’s bathroom. He took a deep breath and raised himself up, looking towards Martin’s open door.

  Judging from the moans and groans coming from inside that room, Mortimer figured that it wouldn’t have mattered how much noise either of them made. Their absent brother wouldn’t have heard them, not in the condition he was in right now.

  “Christ on a bike!” gasped Daniel. “Is that sound what I think it is?”

  Mortimer nodded grimly and raised the crossbow, listening to his younger brother trying not to throw up. For the first time today, he actually pitied his twin. Unlike Mortimer, Daniel wasn’t trained for this type of scenario. He approached the doorway and kept his finger resting on the trigger, daring not to take any chances. The sounds intensified as Mortimer leaned around the doorframe.

  There were two of them, crowded around Martin’s slumped body, both young and female. Their actions disgusted him. Without thinking of the consequences, Mortimer squeezed the trigger. The bolt slammed into the side of the first one, causing her body to crash into a wooden chair next to the slumped man. The remaining woman opened her eyes and pulled her mouth away from Martin’s erect cock and screamed out in utter terror.

  “How do you like it, Martin?” he shouted, trying not to stare at the girl’s wobbly breasts. Mortimer moved his eyes further down her body and nodded to himself in satisfaction when he saw she was now lying in a puddle of her own piss. His brother had already shuffled his body away from the now weeping female, no doubt not wanting not get any of her bodily fluids on his clothes. “I don’t know what’s worse, you stealing my power supply or calling me names.” He turned his head and saw that his other brother was grinning from ear to ear. In truth, Mortimer did feel like joining him. The sight of Martin trying to get up with his trousers around his ankles was pretty funny.

  The half-naked man lunged forward, snatched the crossbow out of Mortimer’s hands, then threw it onto the floor. “What the hell did you have to go and do that for? It’s almost as if you WANT me to punch your big fat head off your shoulders.”

  The threat of violence did not send his heart into palpitations like it used to. His other brother had already backed off. He obviously didn’t want to be associated with Mortimer any more, just in case Martin decided that he wanted a beating too. Not that there would be any beating, at least not from Martin’s fists. Perhaps Mortimer really had soaked some of the other him into his real body. He certainly had no fear of Martin, not any more.

  “You’re the one who called me a big fat whale. I am big, but I can assure you that it isn’t all fat.” Mortimer picked up his crossbow, not too surprised to find there was no resistance. “Give me back my power supply.”

  Martin spun around. “Why are you still here?” he yelled. “You’ve had your fun. Get out of my sight.” He stepped over the dead girl and disappeared further into his bedroom. Mortimer wasn’t all that surprised to watch his brother take his frustration out on the other girl. Now he understood why Daniel had retreated; he would have received both barrels if he’d have stuck around.

  The girl took one look at her dead companion before fleeing from the room. It didn’t stop her from giving Mortimer a sour glare before she did leave the three of them alone. He thought that her attitude was just rude. The girl ought to be grateful that it wasn’t her who was bleeding out all over the tiled floor.

  Was it Mortimer’s fault that his older brother couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for more than a couple of hours?

  Martin ran after the girl and pleaded with her to stay. By the looks of it, even using his vast reservoir of charm wasn’t going to stop the girl from squeezing her body into the ventilation shaft. Mortimer lowered the crossbow and turned to gaze into the corner of the ceiling. Daniel was convinced that their keepers had placed a camera up there, but he wasn’t convinced; it didn’t stop him from pulling a face, however, just in case they were watching.

  “For crying out loud, Mortimer!” Martin yelled, throwing him the stolen power supply. “What’s got into you? Hell, it was just a joke, there was no need to kill her.” He fastened his trousers. “More to the point, what would have happened if you had slipped? That bolt could have smashed into me.”

  Mortimer turned the power supply over in his hands, making sure that his brother hadn’t done anything annoying like snipping one of the wires. He wouldn’t put that past the bastard. “Look, you got what you deserved,” he snapped back. It felt pretty good to be treating his older brother like an equal. It was pretty obvious that Martin had no idea how to react to this new situation. Mortimer turned around and left him to his own devices. He wanted to get back to the playroom, eager to immerse himself back into his more desirable world. He hurried back down the corridor.

  ***

  “You had better watch yourself now, Mortimer.” Daniel picked up a Lego figure and stuck the feet to the top of one of his buildings. He carefully pinched the arm between his finger and thumb, then made the figure wave. “I know you want to go back inside your machine. I just think you might want to wait until he’s gone to sleep.” Daniel looked up. “We both know that the treatment hasn’t worked all that well on him. He’s not much different to when we were first picked up.”

  “Believe me, Daniel, the treatment has altered him, just like it has with us.” Mortimer looked over to the door. “Come on, do you think he would have let me talk to him like that before those scientists picked us up? It’s all mouth with him now, it’s just bravado.” Mortimer wasn’t sure if any of this was actually sinking in. Daniel had missed most of the conversation; he hadn’t witnessed how their older brother had backed down. “Listen to me, Daniel. He isn’t going to do anything, to me or to you, not ever again.”

  Daniel didn’t reply, he just dropped his eyes and started to hunt through his Lego pile. It would take a long time for his brother to stop seeing Martin as some sort of evil monster, considering how badly Martin had treated him when they were younger. Even before The Turning fucked up the world, five years ago, Martin had liked nothing better than to kick the shit out of poor Daniel.

  Was it any w
onder that his twin had regressed into his second childhood, considering that he never had one the first time around?

  “Look, I know that I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably keep saying it until we all eventually get out of here. He’s never touched you in all the years since The Turning, has he? Don’t you think that’s a bit odd, considering we’ve all been living together? At least before, Martin could go out drinking with his mates. He can’t do that now; all his mates are dead, and they don’t let us out.”

  “Mortimer, will you promise me that you’ll let him calm down before plugging yourself back into your machine?” Daniel’s hands shook as he tried to place the next brick onto the other one. “Maybe you should have let them finish him before killing that girl?” He paused and ran his tongue over his lips. “Mortimer, we both know that he’s been defying specific orders about not interfering with girls for a long time. Well, have you ever felt your own body getting excited as well?”

  He gazed at Daniel, then ran his own tongue over his lips. What had prompted the sudden change in subject? Mortimer shook his head. “No, of course not,” he replied, lying. “We both know that the treatments have suppressed those emotions.”

  “It hasn’t with him.”

  Mortimer sighed. “Oh, I think it has, he’s just trying to prove to us that he’s still a real man. You know what he’s like, he gets off on showing off.”

  “Oh, give me a break. I can’t believe that you can stand there and spout out all that bullshit,” added a third voice.

  Mortimer gritted his teeth against the sense of shock that had just coursed through his body. He turned and glared at their older brother framed in the doorway, his face proudly wearing a big stupid grin. Mortimer was more annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t even heard Martin approach. Some zombie-hunting warrior he was turning out to be. The thought of ordering his brother to wear a cow bell around his neck did make him feel a little better.

  “I’m not a complete idiot, you know. Standing there and preaching like some big fat ugly eunuch. You’re both guilty of spying on me while I’ve been busy entertaining my girls.”

  Oh great, that was just marvellous. Now Martin thought that both he and Daniel were perverts. He glanced over at his twin, not all that surprised to see his face glowing like a red light bulb.

  “Look, you don’t have to be so coy, guys. We are men, after all, and despite your transparent denials I know that you both have the urges, although I know your urges aren’t as strong as mine.”

  “Haven’t you got a body to remove?” snapped Mortimer.

  “Just listen to me for a moment. They said that we could have anything we wanted. Anything at all.” Martin shrugged. “It sounded like a good deal at the time, considering that if it hadn’t been for us three, the remainder of the human species would now all be shambling about, stinking up the place and looking for fresh meat.” He walked over to Mortimer and sat down opposite him. “Thing is, although the guys in white coats wanted to keep us sweet, they didn’t want us to get all emotional over girls, ‘cause that would have really spoiled the plans that they have for us.” He took a small handful of pills from his pocket and dropped them on the table in front of Mortimer. “There’s a few days’ worth of treatments there. I stopped taking them two weeks ago.”

  “That really isn’t allowed!” gasped Daniel. “They said that the treatments keep us protected, and it also keeps the antidote in our blood from degrading. You’ll get into trouble if they catch you.”

  “Yeah, I remember them saying stuff like that. Not long after they found out what was in our blood,” said Martin. He walked over to his younger brother and picked up a Lego figure. “I’m telling the truth here, you know. We saved mankind and this is how they reward us? They give you an unlimited supply of fucking Legos.” He turned to Mortimer. “What about you? Come on, guy. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life plugged into that stupid game?”

  Mortimer stood up and snatched the figure out of his fingers. “You’re doing it again, Martin. Doing what you’re best at, you’re stirring up trouble. We’re happy here, a lot happier than anyone else could ever be in this fucked up country. Why can’t you just accept that?”

  Martin sighed. “You just murdered some girl in cold blood and it hasn’t even registered with you. The treatments that they make you take are designed to keep you subdued and happy, to never question anything that they tell you. It appears that they have also eroded your morality as well. You’re both my brothers. You two are the only family that I have. Don’t you two look at me like I’ve gone crazy. We need to stick together. Those bastards have been lying to us from day one.”

  “So your plan is to do what, exactly?” Mortimer should have known the bastard would try to do something like this. It was just typical for their older brother to try to mind fuck the pair of them. He didn’t really care about his two brothers at all. This was just Martin’s childish way of seeking revenge. In fact, the more Mortimer looked at those tablets, the more they looked like ordinary painkillers.

  “It’s simple. First of all, we need to get you two out of here and see what it’s really like outside. Then we should get both of you laid, then perhaps find a bar and have a couple of drinks together.”

  “We can’t do that,” murmured Daniel. “We’re not allowed alcohol either.”

  “Oh Jesus,” exploded Martin. “Will you listen to yourself? This isn’t paradise, it’s a fucking prison. In fact it’s worse than that, at least if you were inside there was a chance that they’d let you out.” He ran over to the huge mirror embedded into the wall of the playroom and started to bang on it.

  “Martin!” hissed Daniel. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “You can’t treat us like this!” Martin shouted. He continued to slam his fists against the glass. “We saved your fucking lives!”

  Mortimer glanced over at Daniel when the outer door silently slid open. Martin was too busy sobbing to even notice that three white-coated men had just entered their playroom. Two of them walked over to Martin. Mortimer watched one of them inject their brother with something, then they dragged the now limp body out of the room.

  “Gentlemen, I’m a little upset with the pair of you. I thought we trusted each other. Why didn’t you tell me that Martin had not been acting like his usual self?”

  The man looked about thirty-five. Mortimer wasn’t too sure of his exact age; he’d never bothered to ask him. Supposedly their caretaker’s name was Joseph, but even that was probably not his real name.

  Standing at just under six feet, the man was still smaller than all the brothers, although his mass of light brown, curly hair exploding out of his head did give him an extra inch. Martin was at least right about the boys being saviors of the human race. If it hadn’t been for the man standing in front of them, it would be likely that right now, the three brothers would be all that was left of their species.

  Joseph had been the one who had found them. It had been this man and this man alone who had kept them safe during the first few nightmarish weeks of chaos. Of course, the fact that he’d found the brothers hiding in their cellar, with a dozen dead zombies lying in close proximity must have given the scientist some clue to the brothers’ value.

  Mortimer had tried to block that part of his life away. Now though, thanks to the sudden appearance of Joseph, coupled with their brother’s outlandish behavior, those last few nightmarish days played out, in full sound and color in front of his eyes.

  * * *

  It had only been a week after the twins’ thirteenth birthday party when the whole world had gone to complete shit. At first, both Mortimer and Daniel had thought that witnessing the dead coming back to life and eating folks was probably the most awesome thing ever to happen in their lives. Seeing all those zombies killing people on the nightly news was far better than anything that their video games could have come up with.

  Their excitement took a serious blow when the news hit the Internet that a select few wer
e turning without getting bitten. The fear became more profound when these select few began growing daily. When the outbreak reached their hometown, their terror increased exponentially.

  The TV stations ceased to broadcast the next day and the Internet followed the day after. Their last message from the outside world arrived via an old radio, a single transmission asking for forgiveness.

  Their family suddenly found themselves barricaded in their house, with the company of five neighbors and a terrified mailman named Geoff.

  Their dad, two of the male neighbors and Geoff had made the house secure, using what tools and wood that they could find around the house. Just as well, considering there had been over a dozen attempted break-ins from hordes of the dead in the space of a couple of days.

  It had finally ceased to be a game. Both Mortimer and Daniel had tried to give out helpful hints and advice, only to be shouted down by the others, mainly their older brother. In fact, looking back, it had been Martin who had done nearly all the shouting.

  His dad had told the kids that they’d be able to survive inside the house for at least a month before things got a bit tight with the food, even with the extra mouths to feed. It appeared that their dad had made provisions for something like this years ago, and had prepared himself.

  It seemed ironic that he was the first one to turn. Their dad, the one who had tried to prepare for every eventuality, could not do a thing about stopping himself from changing into one of those dead things. It had only taken him the better part of one nightmarish hour to infect the rest of the family. For the first time in his very selfish life, Martin had thought about others instead of himself, and had dragged his two brothers into the cellar before bolting the door behind them.

  The adults had not stopped trying to scratch their way inside. The noise had been constant; for every minute of the day and night, they had worked on the wood. Looking back, Mortimer believed that if Daniel hadn’t cracked first, then he would have done it.