Parasite ; Sleeper Cells ; Kingdoms of the Dead

by Ian Woodhead

  The door bounced in its frame, then slowly began opening. Kenny ripped the axe out of Natalie’s hand before pulling the woman away from the door and over to his sister.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, shrugging off his hand. “Since when did dead things open doors? It’ll be our men, looking for us. We’re in here!” she called out.

  The door opened wide. Kenny moaned at the sight of Rossini framed in the doorway, his grinning face looking like a skull mask. Beside him stood Joseph; he too shared Rossini’s grin. They both moved to one side to allow three armed men, all clad in black body armor, to enter the room. One of them pulled the axe out of Kenny’s numb hands.

  “That’s most interesting,” said Joseph, looking into the corner. The man stood back, smiling as they were escorted out of the room. He pulled Natalie towards him. “What is it with you? Seriously, I mean what do we have to do to make you lie down and die?”

  Rossini pulled out a pistol and pointed it at her head. “I can do that for you, Joseph. It’ll only take a little pressure with my finger.”

  “Will you put that gun away, you stupid fat bastard? How will we get in that room without her codes?” He pushed her into Rossini’s arms. “If you want to do something, get her to talk.”

  Rossini shrugged and pushed his gun into his belt. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  Joseph growled, “And stop calling me that. While we’re at it, I thought I asked you to get rid of that jacket? It makes you look like a game show host.”

  “I’m an entertainer,” snarled Rossini. “What else do you expect me to wear?”

  “You look like a big fat clown.”

  Another two men entered the room and stood beside Joseph. Kenny barely noticed the two new arrivals; he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. From what his colleagues had said about this Joseph, the guy had no power; he just stayed in the background. From what Kenny could tell, he stayed in the background all right. He stayed there and ran the whole operation.

  The two new individuals hurried up to Kenny. He shivered at the sight of their dead eyes. The zombies showed more animation in their features than these two.

  “Stretch out your arm, Kenny.”

  He glowered at Joseph before he did as he was told, realizing that cooperation was his only option. He now saw that it didn’t matter what Rossini said or thought. He had finally met the true power.

  “Have they told you that I’m infected?” he whispered to the tall grey-haired man who was trying to take his pulse. “It would only take a few drops of saliva to make their way into your mouth.”

  The man’s cold smile froze Kenny to the spot. “We’re all infected, Kenny,” he replied. “Now I would advise you to do as you’re told. Your sister is very pretty, young man.” The man leaned forward. “Try to keep your dirty mouth in check and be compliant; otherwise, me and my colleague will play with her before feeding your sister’s body to a group of dead things.”

  “Are you having trouble there?”

  “Not at all, Joseph,” replied the grey-haired man. “I was just having a little chat with our friend.”

  The other man stepped up to Kenny and pushed a needle into a vein on his arm. Kenny took a deep breath; the sharp sting brought back so many uncomfortable memories. He had truly believed that his days and nights of having needles pushed into his flesh were well and truly over.

  “Well, do you have an answer for me?”

  The two men released Kenny. The one holding the vial of blood pushed the glass container into a palm-sized machine and studied the display before giving Joseph a quick nod.

  “I can’t be sure of this, Joseph, but the initial results do confirm your theory. This man does have a variant of the antigen in his system. I’ll need to run more tests to be sure though.” He looked at the grey-haired man. “As for whether it’s compatible with our existing vaccine, well, I really can’t say.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Rossini licked his lips. “Does he carry the ultimate cure or what?”

  “Did you even listen to what he just said?” replied Joseph. “Try to be a little more optimistic. We just need to catch up with the brothers.”

  “What if they’re dead, Joseph?”

  Joseph shrugged. “Within the next couple of hours, we’ll be able to snatch as many Mortimers and Daniels as we want. Okay, take him back.” Joseph turned around and walked over to Natalie. “It’s been fun playing you, playing all of you. Now though, the game is closing.” He placed both hands roughly against the side of her head and turned her to face the locked door. “Give me the codes.”

  “Fuck off,” she snarled.

  Kenny bit his bottom lip and tried not to cry out when two of their guards dragged the other Tony into the room. They forced the man to his knees before Rossini rammed his gun into the back of his head and fired.

  “Okay, let’s try this again. This time, if you don’t tell me the codes to your door, I’ll kill everybody in your world. Now, one more time, Natalie.”

  “No!” she screamed. “I’m not going to tell you anything, you’re going to kill us all anyway! At least we all die knowing that you will perish with us!”

  “You really are a very brave woman, Natalie. It is very touching, and I’m shocked to see one of the council members with so much integrity. Okay, get them out of my sight.” Joseph paused and walked up to Kenny. “You have jumped through every hoop I put in front of you.” The man laughed. “Natalie, it was him who helped us get inside here. He’s the only reason why you will all die.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Only two weeks ago the two men before him had done their hardest to get him thrown out of the inner-core affiliation. Joseph’s blood had boiled at their impudence. If it hadn’t been for his breakthroughs, Reuben Chan and Cameron Blake wouldn’t have been sitting in their plush, leather-bound chairs located at the head of their table.

  These two were the last ones on his list. It seemed only fitting that he’d reserved the worst fate for the last two members of the inner-core. His predatory grin displayed the warmth of a frozen dagger as he leaned closer to the monitor screen. Their arrogant smirks were long gone now; only silent screams remained.

  Chained to a revolving drum suspended over one of Rossini’s zombie pits, the men’s naked bodies rotated once every minute. As each rotation completed, the drum dropped down one notch with a sudden jolt.

  He had one last piece to dispose of and that piece stood right next to him, his eyes full of excitement. The fat fool reminded him of a spoilt kid watching a spider run in a circle right after he’s pulled off seven of its legs. Joseph wasn’t fooled by this man’s idiot savant expression though. Rossini wasn’t stupid. He’d proven that by somehow managing to take over Natalie’s controlling interests.

  That freak now had way too much influence and power. Not that Joseph was overly bothered. He’d already devised three plans, all ready to execute when his partner had lost his usefulness.

  Joseph held back his trademark, disarming smile. He needed to restrict his use of acting like the harmless, young scientist for when he really needed to fool this large freak. Right now though, he found it difficult to be able to read the man.

  Mulling over Rossini’s recent irrational behavior took up way too much processing power. What a dilemma. Without the psychotic, egotistical individual’s assistance, Joseph would have never been able to pull this off. It irked Joseph to know that he still needed this maniac. He needed to tread lightly and take baby steps to dismantle Rossini’s powerbase and influence.

  “You surprise me, Joseph. I know these pricks did everything they could to humiliate you in front of the others, so I know how much you hated them.” Rossini chuckled. “It just goes to show that you can’t judge a book by its cover.” He faced Joseph and tapped the monitor screen. “This tells me that despite your own put downs and efforts to humiliate me, you do possess a creative side, obviously not as refined as mine, but it is there deep inside you.”

  Underneath t
hose brusque words, Joseph clearly heard the threat. This fat clown had made plans of his own. He wanted to bite off his tongue; Joseph should have foreseen this outcome. The two terrified men occupied Rossini’s attention; perhaps he should dispense with his strategy and kill the bastard here and now?

  “I’m impressed. They still haven’t given up hope.”

  Joseph took his hand off his knife and watched the two men desperately trying to stop their hands from slipping off their sweat-soaked thighs.

  The camera panned down from the chains securing their ankles, down their bodies. Joseph sighed heavily as the lens passed over their genitals. “I didn’t need to see that,” he muttered.

  The camera paused on their wide eyes. “That’s a good shot,” said Rossini, “you can’t fake that look of pure horror showing in their fat faces.” He turned to Joseph and laughed. “I just have to see how our ratings are doing!” He beamed. “I’ve never seen the figures so high. Almost everybody has tuned in to watch these two fat fuckers die. Even the ones not in the comfort of their homes will be glued to the street-screens.” He rubbed his hands in glee. “I can’t tell you how exciting this is. I wish I was there though, presenting the show. With my charisma, I believe I could ensure everybody would watch.”

  This man’s self-image defied description. Joseph took his eyes from the camera as it now moved further down the pit until the upturned faces of the dead appeared on screen. He shuddered and imagined how everyone else watching this would be doing the same, especially the ones who were related to the zombies. These weren’t wild ones, brought in from beyond the thick walls. The guards had captured these from within the city. Joseph squinted and leaned closer to the monitor, sure that the one in the middle, reaching up, trying to grab hold of the shrieking men, used to be one of the gate attendants from the building opposite Government House. “The only way we could increase ratings now, Rossini, would be if we strapped your naked body to that metal drum.”

  The man’s fists trembled. Joseph decided that this would be an opportune time to allow one of his disarming smiles to brighten his face. “Relax, Rossini, you know I’m only playing with you.” He smartly spun around and walked towards the outside window, happy that the fucker had been put back in his place.

  His time to die wouldn’t be that long now, a few days, if that. As soon as Rossini’s usefulness was at an end, there’d be no delay. No rotating drum for him though, the best he’d get was a bullet in the head, followed by feeding to the dead. It’s all he deserved. Apart from the two men slowly being lowered to their death, Joseph found the glorification of death most inane and bothersome. Rossini’s TV programs served as the sweet to the savoury dish of keeping the population under control. Pretty soon, the man’s pride and joy would be as irrelevant as Rossini himself. It amazed Joseph that the man behind him hadn’t realized that yet.

  Stability was yet to return to the streets below. He watched a young couple race across the road, followed by a stray dead thing. Although he’d closed up all the reality fractures, not all of the off-world individuals had been dealt with, both human and dead. By the end of the night, that little matter should be close to finishing, at least with the dead. As for their visitors, well, they’d just have to adapt to their new life.

  His only concern now was this damn regression. Nobody had been able to give him any satisfactory explanation as to why the tablets were failing to work on a minority of people, or why that minority was slowly growing.

  The comments made by Natalie bothered him. They bothered him a lot. Sure, she knew as much about the regression as the rest of the inner core, it was just that her tone suggested that the traitorous bitch knew a little more than he did. He turned away from the window, wondering if he should have allowed Rossini to hang her from that metal drum as well.

  One of the victims’ hands had slipped down. His body convulsed as two of the dead things fought to bite out chunks of bloodied meat from his dangling limb. Rossini shook his head in annoyance when a dead thing fastened onto the man’s wrist. His teeth clamped tight as the inside of the pit as well as two of the cameras were doused in blood.

  “Damn it,” muttered Rossini, “change to the next feed, you fucking retards.”

  Rossini’s anxiety over Joseph’s last comment had apparently been forgotten, not that Joseph minded. Another casual remark regarding the fat clown’s mortality would soon bring back the man’s unease. “If you have quite finished, we do have important work to do.”

  It did occur to Joseph that Rossini’s involvement with the crucial work still to be done was, at best, minimal. Hell, the idiot’s only participation so far had been to hold a couple of test tubes for him. Any of Joseph’s many assistants would be able to do that. The truth was obvious; he still needed to keep a very close eye on the devious snake. Despite his rather average intelligence quota, many people had made the mistake of underestimating Rossini. He wasn’t going to be another one.

  Another camera zoomed in on Reuben’s weeping eyes. Joseph’s heart lifted at the sight of the man’s large tears rolling down his cheeks. Revenge really was the greatest medicine there was.

  “Two more minutes, Joseph, please? I need to see him die first. Look!” He pointed. “There he goes, he’s just given up. He’s lost his will to live. That relaxing of the muscles, coupling with the vacant smile, is an obvious sign that he’s getting himself ready to meet his maker. Trust me, I’ve seen this action so many times before.”

  He sounded like a kid asking to stay up to watch TV for a few more minutes. Joseph smirked to himself. Rossini had never shown this side of his personality before. Sure, Joseph had suspected the man really did get off on all of this cruelty, but he’d been very careful not to let the insanity rise to the surface.

  He walked over to Rossini, having difficulty reining in his emotions. He’d just had the most incredible idea. He was annoyed that he hadn’t thought of this brilliant scheme until now. “How many are watching, right this minute?”

  The big man gazed down at the corner of the screen. “The count had dropped off a little. The thrill seekers are still hanging on, waiting for the man to drop his arms, but we’ve lost a percentage because he’s already given up on life.” Rossini shook his head and sighed heavily when the man did drop both his arms. “And there goes the ratings. I doubt that we’ll see those numbers again, it’s such a shame.”

  “My original question was how many tuned in? I want the exact amount.”

  “Our highest figure was just over half a million. That’s ninety percent of our population, although that figure could be higher. We lost a few of our inhabitants during your Shift testing and it doesn’t take the streetscreen viewing into consideration.”

  “You do know there is potential to increase your ratings to billions. Once the convergence is over and the other worlds are under our control, it won’t take much technical wizardry to beam your shows to the other worlds. Just think of the ratings then, Rossini!”

  “But they’re not even human,” he replied. “How can pale shadows even appreciate my work of art?”

  Joseph hadn’t expected that response. Did Rossini really believe the propaganda that Joseph had hastily assembled once the news had broken about the first visit from Source World? Even back then, before their visitor’s plague fucked up most of their planet, Joseph had no wish to watch any of his personnel disappear through the gate, never to be seen again.

  The situation became ever more urgent when they found the gate that led to Food World. All those vast stretches of unspoiled land, basking under blue clouds and hot sun, was enough to tempt even the most devoted of guards.

  His ridiculous story of telling the travellers that they were about to enter a demon dimension populated by shape-changing monsters had scared the crap out of his intrepid explorers. Not that their reaction had surprised him; his soldiers were picked for their bulk and unswerving loyalty. They weren’t supposed to have too many brain cells. Rossini though, well … he’d thought the man had
a bit more brains than his soldiers. It looked like he’d been wrong on that as well.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Joseph replied, looking disgusted.

  His loathing of his companion’s ignorance vanished when the alarms in Government House begin to blare through the building. He ran over to the doorway and cursed as the security door slammed down, trapping them inside.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Rossini left the console, now showing a dozen screens of static, and joined Joseph at the door. “Get this fucking thing open. I need out, right now.”

  The years fell off Rossini’s face, regressing him back to that of a small child. Joseph saw a terrified kid, pleading with his dad to check under the bed for monsters. He pushed that image away, not needing any irrelevant thoughts cluttering up valuable processing space. He spun around, wishing he could delete Rossini as well. The man was destined to be a nuisance until Joseph could figure out how the defense systems had been tripped.

  The override had better work. A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead; he angrily wiped it away and forced himself to calm down. Unlike the fat fool behind him, trying to open the door, he could solve this simple problem through rational thought. He reached the main console and slowly typed in his personal code sequence, allowing the briefest of smiles to play across his face as nine images of the most important areas of Government House replaced the static. All he saw was more sheep-like behavior from the other members of the staff polluting the visible portions of the interior. He flicked his gaze from one monitor to the next until he stopped at the screen showing the secondary auxiliary generator. “That sly bitch,” he muttered. The panels of instruments that controlled the environment systems for the entire building were now just a collection of melted wiring, twisted metal, and a lot of broken bodies. There had been eight personnel in there overseeing the running of the systems. Not one of them had survived.

  “Was it a bomb?”

  Joseph nodded, not even bothering to supply a sarcastic answer. “It looks like our Natalie had more than one trick up her sleeve.”