by Samie Sands
Normally the body would have been stripped and cleaned, but as he was a zombie, I really didn’t want to contaminate the whole morgue.
I looked again at his eyes before I closed them, and the pupils were now dilated. I took a polaroid photo with the instant print camera to prove I had not murdered the poor man. It also showed him foaming with his skin changing to an ash color.
I set the photo down and took him to a drawer for safe keeping while I went to take care of business.
I locked the doors and went to file a change of ownership, then to the bank to find out how bad things were. He might not have been busy, but the parlor was immaculate and needed no foreseeable repairs.
Transferring all of his possessions was easier than it should have been. With the Will, they granted business transference along with vehicles and anything listed with the business. He had paid his taxes for ten years in advance and had done so for the last sixty years. I wouldn’t have to worry about property taxes for the next nine years.
At the bank, I showed his bank card, the Will, his identification and mine. The girl kept a blank look on her face and printed my account balance while I signed the card to make it my account. Apparently, things were more lax since the existence of zombies.
I would be issued my own card and assigned a new account number after all funds were transferred.
She asked if I had my key for the deposit box. I looked at my key ring and she nodded yes. I took the key off the key fob. At the vault, another woman signed me in and took my key to open the door to the drawer, then after placing a box on the table, she exited the room.
In the box were documents, a large sum of cash, jewelry which I would speculate were family heirlooms, and another set of keys. Closing the box, I stuck my head out of the room and requested a carton to empty my box into.
She nodded her head yes, was only gone a moment and came back with one the size of the deposit box. She left again, leaving me to empty the contents into the carton. I pocketed some cash and the new keys.
I closed the account for the deposit box, then returned to the counter for my new account number, card, and the balances on any existing accounts.
The woman who was so blasé previously, now seemed warm and excited. When I viewed my account balance, I understood her change in demeanor. As it turned out, there was quite a bit of money, hundreds of millions in fact.
I held up my left hand and shrugged my shoulders to show there was no chance for her. I had started wearing a ring in college. I wasn’t going to school to play and party. My love was, had been, and always would be science.
The clerk frowned but continued to flirt. I requested an envelope for my papers, which she grudgingly supplied me with.
I gathered all my papers and wished her a good day. Then I headed to my little rental apartment and paid off my room lease and packed up. Time to go back to the parlor to search for his private offices. The main office was on the same floor as the viewing rooms and entry to the parlor.
Deciding it must be upstairs, I took my few worldly possessions, including Dr. Frankenstein’s notes and research results up with me. I set my luggage down while I decided on bedrooms. I viewed elaborately furnished rooms. A couple of bedrooms, each with its own sitting room, attached bath, walk-in closet, and between them was a locked room. I decided on the largest room since it looked like the previous owner preferred the smaller bedroom of the two.
I’d have to sort it out later. How odd to have to go through someone’s belongings you only met for a moment.
As the middle room door was locked, I searched through the keys, finding which one I was looking for and let myself in. Warm, rich cherry wood cabinets, bookcases with the same designs as were intricately carved into the desk, brown leather stuffed chairs with a matching chaise lounge. There was a humidor made of the same wood and carved details, stocked with expensive cigars. All of the furniture had been well taken care of.
Running my hand over objects, picking them up, a panel opened, revealing a safe. There was a piece of paper taped to it with a question. In what year was the master of horror created?
1767 was the speculated year Victor Frankenstein was born. There weren’t records stating the exact date. I tried it on the keypad and the safe opened.
Inside there was a tranquilizer gun, a vial, more cash and another set of keys. More keys, how quaint.
The safe was huge. I withdrew the keys and placed my box inside and closed it, pocketing the keys along with the piece of paper. I touched the last object again and nothing happened. Touching the same objects in reverse that I had touched to open it, the panel closed. It was a combination of objects, not just one.
I had much to look through, but I had more pressing business to attend to. The gentleman downstairs.
I hoped I had waited long enough for Mr. Woods to turn completely. I could hear banging as I walked closer to the room. It was coming from his drawer. As well as a putrid, decaying odor resembling wet, moldy tobacco. I was mildly surprised considering he was refrigerated right after the turning started.
I was finding that the smell the body gave off, resembled how they lived. This man smoked cigars, and many of them by the look of his stock and the full ashtray.
I opened the door cautiously, standing behind it while pulling the table out. I was glad I had the forethought to strap him down to the metal board before placing it on the slab. He would have lunged at me.
Remembering my ancestor’s journals, the spinal cord and column must be cut to cease movement. I once again glanced at the clock. 1818.
I found the electric saw and pulled him up by the hair on his head, swiftly cutting off his head from the back, severing his spine. He ceased movement but still looked at me as if he was pissed, even while I was holding his head mid-air by the hair.
I set his head in with his body, making sure they did not touch and closed the door to his drawer.
I went to the office desk in the morgue and found an unused notebook. It would do nicely for my entries.
Stages of Turning into a Zombie as witnessed at pre-turning:
Body starts to stiffen-movements less fluid, almost jerking.
Pupils fully dilate.
Foaming at the mouth.
Skin color changes drastically to a grayish tint.
Loss of speech, words drawn out
Odor from life
Journal entry #1
Friday, 8 September 2017
Mr. James Woods
Location of deceased: I found Mr. Woods pre-turning in his place of business @ 1400
Cause of turning: Bitten
Personal belongings included identification in a leather card carrier, $832 in a silver money clip, 6 keys, embroidered handkerchief, no wallet.
Secured male turning @ 1508
Throat slit from side to side @ 1512
Draining blood completed @ 1525
Pupils dilated @1536
Foaming and color change @ 1538
Stored in refrigeration drawer @ 1542 at 3°C. temperature
Odor of wet cigar tobacco
Spine severed @ 1818
@ 1826 back in closed drawer
Positive temperatures for cold chambers of 3°C. Negative temperatures of -30°C for forensic cold chambers.
Silver ion antibacterial powder coated onto the body to hinder bacteria growth so to not contaminate research.
I’d have to harvest the parts I wanted to keep soon and place him in the cooler at the freezing temperature, or they would decay, even as a zombie.
But first, I needed food and sleep. I had a feeling that soon, any sort of rest would be a thing of the past.
I made a sandwich and took it up to my new bedroom. Finding bedding, I changed the sheets and settled in for a short nap. The sandwich sat there forgotten.
I slept hours longer than I had intended. A quiet place with a comfortable bed would have that effect on anyone.
I took the sandwich downstairs to the garbage and placed the pla
te in the dishwasher. I made a fresh sandwich and ate it while I brewed a pot of coffee and took a thermos with me to the basement morgue.
Everything was quiet so I poured a cup of coffee and sipped on it while I decided the parts to keep on Mr. Woods aka Adam 1.
He was elderly and had some difficulty in movement before he turned so I would discount his arms and legs because of the joints. A rather large belly could cause my Adam to be off balanced. He had a full head of hair, and a small head for his body. I’d only keep his head.
His remains would go to the incinerator.
Opening his drawer, his eyes stared up at me, almost accusing me of disregarding a deed he had requested I perform.
I placed his head in a sealed mini-body bag made for the freezer temperatures and placed him on a tray in the cold chamber.
As for his body with its godawful smell, I wheeled it to the incinerator, unbuckled it and gave it a shove onto the cardboard sheet on the rollers. It only took a moment for it to catch fire.
The only part of the job I hated was the sickening sweet smell of a body burning. I watched for a minute, then closed the heavy door with a clang. I could check this part completed.
I had to admit, I loved the furnace always staying lit. It added to the convenience as much as a dishwasher did to a kitchen. I took out my journal and added the notes.
Mr. Woods separated @ 2300. Head placed in bag in the cold chamber. Only head salvageable due to age. Remains incinerated @ 2328.
I wondered if I should have kept his heart. Too late to ponder on. I poured another coffee and thought about the rest of the parts I would need. A torso. The arms, legs, full extremities could be cut apart and attached to new parts if I needed to. I’d rather use the hand with the arm it was attached to and legs with its own feet if possible.
I didn’t need complications. As Victor had pointed out in his research as well.
I turned on the news to watch for excess numbers of zombies. Hunting for them, I supposed. Where there was a group, there was always a weaker one. I wanted parts but didn’t need a whole.
News Flash: The perfume/cologne manufacturers were making a mint with people trying to hide their ‘scent’ from the zombies. But the zombies have adapted and now use this new smell as an easier tracker than just smelling human brains.
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Wonder how they would fix this mistake. The government approved it. Way to go Department of Defense.
Zombies could smell blood faster than a vampire, even before the perfume existed.
Finding a good area in the meat district was easy. Lots of workers and blood to attract the zombies.
I took my coffee upstairs, setting it on the kitchen table and picked up all of the keys then went out to look at the parlor’s vehicles. There were a couple of vintage funeral coaches, a cathedral hearse with three cathedral glass-etched windows on each side, a glass and velvet horseless carriage hearse, a motorcycle with a glass wagon for MC burials, even a bicycle hearse with three wheels, extending a long frame under an open-sided box which balanced on two of the wheels for the pollution aware. Sweet. I hadn’t seen some of these before. In the driveway was a modern bus/van looking combination, fairly new, which looked like it could hold a dozen people or so. I guessed commercial grade.
There was also a simple white cargo van with the parlor logo. Opening it revealed metal bars with no creature comforts inside. There was a long bar across the top near the roof of the van and at the bottom of the wall near the floor, running lengthwise on both walls too. As well as restraints and cuffs hanging from the bars. There were three aluminum backboard stretchers attached to a wall for easy removal. Between the driver and the bars was a bullet proof glass, top to bottom. Guess what I would be driving to pick up zombies.
I decided to take it for a ride.
I scouted for zombies to sort for usage. I hit pay dirt. It was easy to lure them inside the van. There was some perfume in the back which heightened my smell to attract them to come to me. I never dreamt it would be so easy.
Some of them were damaged, so I’d harvest them for usable parts, human recycling. Ironic. Most people refused to recycle and here I was recycling them.
Gathering my thoughts, after disassembling the usable from the trash parts, trash would be thrown into the incinerator immediately, while I would sort the usable parts, and organize according to the location on the anatomy. They were labeled 1a, 1b arms. 2a, 2b legs. Since they were arms from one person, and legs from another. No torso as of yet.
Of the other four bodies, I cut their heads off and threw their whole bodies with their heads into the incinerator.
I would try to build three zombies since parts were so readily available. All of these from my scouting mission had no identification and I had no idea when they turned. They were sorted out and placed in the cooler. Remains were incinerated.
I would search for ‘fresh’ zombies on my next scouting mission. Their smell was starting to give me an idea of how long it had been since they had turned. Being in refrigeration did nothing to change their odor.
I decided to go back out. I needed a drink.
I parked the van behind the bar to enter from the alley. There was an injured man without an arm and his opposite leg was missing. He growled and tried to get at me. His eyes hadn’t changed yet.
I injected him, loaded him up and took him to the parlor. In the basement, I restrained him to an aluminum stretcher on the autopsy table and made notes of the date and time I had found him lying on the ground outside the pub by the alley. I didn’t even get inside to get my whiskey.
Saturday, 9 September 2017
Mr. Carl Hamner
Location of deceased: Found by me outside of pub in the alley @ 0141 growling.
Cause of turning: Bitten and limbs severed, Left arm and right leg. Not at the scene.
Personal belongings included a wallet, $31, and identification. No jewelry or keys.
Secured male turning @ 0210
Throat slit from side to side @ 0225
Draining blood completed @ 0237
Pupils dilated @ 0250
Foaming and color change @ 0253
Stored in refrigeration drawer at 0258 @ 3°C. temperature
I took a deep breath. It had been a long night. I’d sleep after he was sorted but I desperately needed coffee and something to eat. I finished the coffee in the thermos at the table and heated some lasagna marked with Thursday’s date, not yet touched. I’d have to go shopping sometime but there was a lot of food here. I imagined as a funeral director, people were always bringing food. There were pies for later as well. I looked forward to them.
There was nothing like warm apple cobbler with vanilla ice cream, followed by Irish coffee. My mouth started to water.
The sooner I sorted this one out, the sooner I could have my pie and relax for the day.
Spine severed @ 0600.
Odor on body was alcohol, no distinct type. (Guess would be cheap Scotch).
@ 0615 back in closed drawer
I went back up to have my pie when the phone rang. The hospital was calling in need of a crematorium for beheaded zombies. Some of the bodies in the hospital morgue were turning and they were in need of disposal. They had called several funeral homes and were turned away. I assured them I would dispose of any and they could call me at any time.
@1030 separated torso from limbs. Kept torso and incinerated head with limbs. No idea if the torso can be used, but I will keep it stored for backup.
@ 1045 Torso bagged and in cold chamber for storage
Determined I would have my pie, I heated a piece and added a big scoop of ice cream. Even if there was only time for regular coffee with it, I made a pot and filled my thermos.
The hospital called as I was taking my last bite. With all of the deaths and other funeral homes not wanting to accommodate the zombies, because frankly, they didn’t want them in their establishments. Most funeral homes were happy to refer people to me regarding
the bodies of any zombie dead, dying or turning.
I started a second pot of coffee and grabbed my thermos on my way out. I made several trips to the hospital. Some overzealous interns had removed the heads and they had not been refrigerated. They just tossed the bodies and heads into a metal box for disposal. At least it wasn’t ungodly hot outside and the blood had been drained so there wasn’t a huge mess. I wouldn’t be able to use any parts though.
As I finished loading the last of the bodies, with help from interns, another body was brought for disposal. An intern was excited to cut off the head. I told him not to, and as I was ready to leave, I would take it with me as it was. They helped me secure it to an aluminum stretcher and I headed back to the morgue.
With all of the bodies, I was glad to have a service entrance elevator to the basement from the garage, and a chute which lead straight to the incinerator. It made human disposal very convenient.
The whole body I would take in the elevator after I was certain it was still secured.
After placing her, stretcher and all on the autopsy table, I checked the incinerator. It was doing its job.
I went back in and looked at the toe tag on the body. A.J. Blaire. There wasn’t a bite mark present, but pupils were dilated. No signs of her turning, but there was no pulse. I would do an autopsy. It was good to have a case which intrigued me.
Sunday, 10 September 2017
Ms. A.J. Blaire
Location of deceased: Hospital
Cause of turning: Multiple injection sites, possible virus injections
Personal belongings included: No personal effects
Secured female post-turning @ 1223
Throat slit from side to side – not performed
Draining blood completed - prior to pick up
Pupils dilated - prior to pick up
Foaming – not present
Change of color – color pallor a grayish tint
Veins distended @ 1537
I was glad my thermos had a strap. I could take it anywhere and I was certain I would need coffee. I timed any changing from the knowledge I had of her. Her pupils were already dilated. She started to smell but it wasn’t a decaying odor. I could deal with most of the smells. This smelled of blood and formaldehyde mixed.