SCHIZOMEGA: Zombies Made in the U.S.A. (Ian McDermott Paranormal Investigator series Book 3)

by David Aslin

  Ian smiled and half-heartedly chuckled as he replied, “Yeah, well, it just seemed like a good night for a dip is all.” E laughed a deep full laugh.

  Ian cleared his throat, “Uh, um I’m guessing you’ve got some kind of water, all weather gear for us too, that will cover our clothes.”

  “Good on you Ian. As a matter of fact, I’ve got just what we’re going to require.”

  Suddenly the wind picked up and it began almost instantly to poor down rain. Not since Ian had been on the Oregon and Washington coastlines had he seen it rain so hard.

  “According to weather-dot-com Ian, there’s a real nasty one coming up from Florida. Suppose to hit the upper gulf region around midnight. That gives us about two hours to get over to the Island before it gets too dicey.”

  Ian interjected, “What about the trip back from the Island?”

  E smiled. “Yeah…”

  Ian rolled his eyes as he mused to himself, You’d think that I’d find myself some intensely boring desk job, shackled safely within the confines of some god-forsaken cubicle. Nah, fuck that. What was that Dylan Thomas’ poem? ‘Do not go gentle into that good night… rage, rage against the dying of the light.’ I suppose going out making a stand against evil, rather than never standing up for good, if there’s a God, and an afterlife, has got to count for something, right? And if demons exist, and I know more than most that they do, so must angels.

  E spoke as if he were a tour guide. “Well now Ian, we’re just about to be leaving New Orleans. Over there’s the Superdome.” E pointed out his driver’s window towards the giant stadium. “Okay Ian, I want you to pay close attention to what I’m about to say. So far the drive’s been all about town; but we’re about to leave the city. Next we’ll be taking the U.S. 90 bridge south across the river over to, Gretna. Once there, we’ll be joining the Belle Chasse Highway, that’s Highway 23. Then we’re going to follow in the vernacular of the local gentry, the Miss-a-sip, onward ‘bout eighty miles, winding up south of, Venice. From there we’ll be traveling an old country road over to the river’s edge. From there we’re going to boat down river to the mouth, then make the crossing over to the Island. Now the reason I tell you this is, well, if this all goes tits up and something should happen to me, you’re going to need a way back to civilization.” E reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Here, take these extra set of keys, they’re to the boat and my truck. If something should happen to me and by some miracle you were to make it back without me, well, I guess they’d be yours.”

  Not quite knowing what to say Ian just accepted the keys and put them in his jeans pocket. After a protracted moment of silence Ian could keep quiet no longer. “E, don’t you have any family?” He said before thinking through his question.

  “Ian, my family have been dead for many years. Oh, certainly there are descendants, relatives so to speak, but they can’t know of me and it would do me no good to know of them. Extreme longevity or immortality even, it comes with a great price. Most vampires for instance, if they live long enough, at some point all too often go completely mad. They succumb to the darkness that holds them sway. There are exceptions. But, they are indeed the exception, not the rule.”

  Ian took a deep breath, “Your talking about vampires like Clayton, and the council of twelve being exceptions. And vampires like, Salizzar, being the rule.”

  E paused then glanced for a second over at Ian. “Salizzar? No vampire who has ever lived is as evil and powerful as, Salizzar. Who is completely amoral and mentally insane. Salizzar possesses a genius level intellect. He has absorbed knowledge from minds accumulated over centuries.”

  Ian looked at E as he replied, “You say, is as evil. And you used the word absorbed? So, Scout didn’t kill him?”

  E paused before answering, “No. His bloodline has not been severed, ergo, Scout suffers his affliction. When a vampire sucks a person dry, it absorbs some of, it’s like the vampire steals the essence, or soul if you will, of their victim. And Salizzar’s had thousands of victims. I cannot think of a more dangerous foe.”

  Ian though now more nervous than he’d been, smiled just a little, at the fact that for the first time E actually called Scout by his name. He didn’t refer to him merely as a dog. Ian thought perhaps E was warming up to him. With that thought, Ian decided to attempt to learn a little more about the, Mystery Man.

  “E, I follow that you met Clayton during WWII, who at that time was calling himself, Ian Fleming, or moreover, agent, or codename, 17F. But what about recent years. You must have at some time retired or at least took a sabbatical from being a spy or whatever it is that you are exactly. Are you at liberty, or are you willing to tell me a little about the more recent, you?”

  At first E said nothing. Ian thought perhaps he was irritated even that Ian would ask any such personal question. But to Ian’s near amazement, suddenly E spoke in a kinder voice than Ian had heard him speak in since back at the hotel room when speaking about Scout.

  “Ian, I did try and settle down for a while. I retired myself from employment by the council as an enforcer for lack of a better word. Yeah, around twenty years ago up until recently I was living just like yourself, up in the Pacific Northwest, Washington State. I settled for a time in a small town called, Kelso.”

  Ian looked over at E. “I know where Kelso is. It’s right across the Cowlitz River from Longview. They’re both situated right on the Columbia, just upriver maybe seventy miles from, Astoria, Oregon.”

  E smiled, “That’s right.”

  Ian continued, “What drew you to that town? I mean it’s a nice area and all, but…”

  E interjected, “Well, it’s a small primarily logging community that was settled by a large number of Scottish folk. The local High School call themselves Kelso Highlanders. Their mascot, appropriately is a Scottie dog. Well, as I’m sure you can imagine, that held some attraction to me as if you couldn’t guess.” Ian smiled as he nodded his head.

  E continued, “Anyway, I was traveling through the area and took a motel for a few days. As I checked the area out and liked what I saw. A crazy idea came to me, I thought, why not try and make a few dollars at doing what I know. Teach what I know.”

  Ian laughed as he interrupted, “What, teach one hundred ways to kill people?”

  E frowned slightly, and Ian apologized, “Sorry, please continue, I was just kidding.”

  E took a deep breath then exhaled. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, but since you asked. Anyway, I opened a Taekwondo Korean Karate School. Well, that, and Jiujutsu, Hapkido, and other martial arts mixed into the program as well. I taught martial arts in the area for a number of years. Up until quite recently in fact. There are no coincidences Ian. How do you suppose I got connected up with you and Clayton once again? The Northwest is a relatively small area. Especially when a man has the Council of Twelve keeping tabs on him. They’re keeping tabs on both of us Ian, of that you can be certain. You do understand that Clayton’s the only reason you’re still alive with all that you know.”

  Ian paused for a moment, but then nodded that he understood. He then decided to ask what he’d been burning to know. “Assuming that you didn’t use the name, E during your time in Kelso, what name did you use there? I’m guessing that you used an assumed name other than you real name, Herbert, I mean, James McBonder; so nobody would ever connect any dots to anything historical that could prove rather difficult. And knowing that coming up with forged ID, social security cards etc., in your line, well and with who you know, your connections, I shouldn’t think would pose too much trouble for you.”

  E grinned slightly. “Very good Ian. You’d make a top-notched agent I do believe. You’re certainly curious and logical, as well as a good investigator and you’ve got balls. Yes, well that’s almost a story in of itself, mate. My martial arts academy was located just down the street from a public school, Huntington Middle School, and that I’d taken a flat located coincidentally on, Huntington Avenue. Anyway,
I adopted Huntington as my last name primarily due to the fact that The Longview-Kelso area, was founded by a European-American man and wife bearing that name. And being a Scotch-Irish son of the Scottish highlands, a Danny boy if you will, which actually references an Irish folk tune, god help us.” Suddenly E intentionally exaggerated his Scottish accent as he continued, “Me dear mum, God rest her soul, she was Irish. She was very fond of that tune.” E switched back to speaking normally. “My father hated it. He hated all things Irish. Anyway, I became for a time, Dan Huntington. Or, Master Huntington, 8th Dan, Taekwondo martial arts instructor. I’d be a liar if I said that I didn’t get a kick, so to speak, that the name Dan, refers to in Korean, a black belt. Anyway, changing the subject. Clayton said you’re one of those rare fellows that a person just opens up to. You now know things about me that Clayton isn’t even aware of. One day, I think I’ll again take up residence in that little town, but only until my not aging normally becomes a problem. Then, I’ll be forced to move on yet again.”

  Ian wasn’t sure if he should go down this path or not, but he couldn’t help himself. “Having any meaningful relationships must be difficult to say the least. You not aging much.”

  E replied, “Yes, well, I was married once, Tracey was her name; that ended badly. She was killed by a man who was sent to dispatch me. I have a son, James, from another relationship, but he can never know of me for his own safety, and well the last time I checked up on him, he looks like he could be my father. Extreme longevity, Ian, though at first very attractive, has its drawbacks, loss of your very soul notwithstanding. I say this to you, knowing full well, Clayton has offered it to you, and likely will again. So far to your credit, you’ve chosen wisely to decline.”

  Ian pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the time; nearly two hours had passed since they’d left the hotel. “We must be getting close?” Ian proclaimed as he stared out the window looking for any signs that he was correct.

  E replied, “As a matter of fact we’ll be turning onto that country road I was telling you about in about ten minutes. We’re just about to come into, Venice, the last bastion of civilization at the mouth of the Mississippi delta.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Voyage I

  Once outside of the small community of Venice, E turned onto a gravel laden country road. The road was full of large pot-holes which afforded them a very bumpy ride to the banks near the mouth, of the Mississippi. “Well Ian, we took a bit of a tossing about, but that wasn’t so bad.” Ian rolled his eyes at E’s comment, as he continued rubbing his neck, which had taken nearly as much of the roads pounding that it could.

  The two men climbed out of E’s truck and immediately proceeded to the rear of the vehicle. The wind was becoming pretty intense and it had started to rain again as E began unhitching the already inflated boat from its trailer. Ian was peering in the truck canopies back window at Scout, who appeared to still be well under sedation.

  Ian retrieved from his inside coat pocket his voice recorder, pushed record and began to speak out load, We, me and my companion, who I will refer to merely as E, are near the mouth of the Mississippi where it meets the gulf. From here by boat we’re going to head over to the… E walked briskly up to Ian and grabbed his recorder mid-sentence. Without saying a word E then dropped the recorder to the ground and stomped on it, breaking the recorder into pieces.

  Ian cried out, “What the hell? Why the hell did you do that? I just bought that thing, and Clayton…” E held up his right hand very close to Ian’s face as he spoke. “Not another word of it. I dislike recording devices. You can tell your tales of glory later by writing them down. I will not be included, have I made myself perfectly clear? Clayton’s captured and greatly distorted too much of my past already.” Ian sheepishly nodded his head in agreement. “Now, since it’s apparent that you like toys. Let me show you some that I’ve brought for us to play with. Then, you can lend a hand and help me carry the boat over to the river. Before we launch, I’ll drive the truck and trailer over under those trees and scrubs over there.” E pointed to a good natural hiding spot. “After I back the trailer as far into the water as I can, we will detach the boat. I’ve got some camouflage netting to put over the truck and trailer that should help conceal them from the air. The last thing we want is to be thrown in prison by Federal Marshals thinking we’re here to bust someone out of the crazy-house.” Ian smiled and nodded in agreement as he shivered just a bit from the rapidly declining temperature.

  E motioned for Ian to look into the back of the boat. E handed Ian a flashlight. “Hold the light on the duffle bag that I’ll be fishing about in.”

  Ian immediately spotted inside the boat two military style heavy duck-cloth duffle bags. E picked one up and began opening it and pulling from it, its contents. Ian observed E, retrieving from the duffle bag, two black heavy-knit turtle-neck sweatshirts and stocking caps, and two black military style jump suits and two black neoprene life jackets. Then E smiled at Ian as he pulled out a large suit apparently made from small link chainmail.

  “This friend Ian is a titanium anti-shark suit. Now, it’s true that we’re going to be crossing shark infested waters, but, that’s not my primary reason for having you put this on. Don’t worry, it doesn’t weigh all that much. Where we’re going, if I’m correct, wearing this under your Orderlies suit, just might prove a hell of a lot more protective than any Kevlar vest with Steele plating. I don’t expect the chance of being shot is going to be nearly the threat as being, bitten. We might just be on the menu as late night snacks for these filthy buggers.” E paused to gather his thoughts before continuing, “Though come to think of it, getting shot just might be a possibility as well. That is, if we’re discovered. Perhaps, against a small caliber, low velocity round, one that is fired at say a good distance, who knows, this might decrease the depth of the bullets penetration, stranger things have occurred.” E took a deep breath then smiled as he ran his hands over the metal ringed meshing. “Bite through it, not a chance in hell. This suit will protect you from your ankles to your wrists and everything in between. But no head-dress with this… that wouldn’t do well with our clandestine intentions. Nothing’s going to try and bite through your shoes, but, besides your head and face… be especially mindful of your fingers. Fingers make a relatively easy target as a chew-toy, or finger sandwich, and they’re going to be completely exposed.” Ian shook his head slowly and laughed slightly as he realized that E actually was attempting to defuse the tension by injecting his idea of levity.

  “I didn’t bring the gloves. They are too cumbersome to be practical.”

  Ian just glared at the tiny metal linked suit for a moment before he dared to speak. “At this prison hospital, won’t there be check points that we’ve got to pass through. Ones with metal detectors?”

  E smiled, “Very good Ian. Yes, that would be true if we planned on coming in through the front door. Clayton through his nefarious connections, procured us a map of the original architecture of the place. One that reveals a subterranean hardened bunker; along with adjacent tunnels originally devised for rapid stealthy evacuation of ranking officers, if needed. The main tunnel passage leads to the opposite far end of the island; perhaps a half mile from the forts docks and road to the main entrance. I’m just hoping the tunnel hasn’t been discovered over the generations and have been long since sealed off. It’s quite possible that it has never been discovered this map is a copy of the original which is several hundred years old. The place that it opens up to, if never sealed, is deep within the basement of the place, cleverly hidden behind an old steam boiler devised to heat the original officers’ quarters in rooms above. My guess is, rather than dismantle this massive system, it was just left to rot since it is located in a non-used off limits area of the place. And if it is sealed off, short of being bricked-off, regarding that possible eventuality, I’ve a few tricks up my sleeve so to speak. Nice quiet ones.”

  Ian turned his flashlight towards the second duffle
bag. “What’s inside that one? And, where’s your tin-man suit?”

  E grinned slyly. “You must be referring to my real bag of toys? You’ll see soon enough. Now, get that armor suit on and get dressed. Me? I don’t plan on getting bit, but if I do, I doubt it will have much more effect on me than maybe I might require some stitches. By the way, how’s your sewing?”

  Ian began getting dressed. E backed the truck and trailer until the boat was two-thirds into the water. He then unhitched it from the trailer shoved it away; with the bow still on land. He then hopped back into his truck and drove over to an area off the road that was more of a trail than road. Over to an area densely populated by tall grass, mangrove and scrub pine. E then finished off the vanishing act that he performed with his truck and boat trailer by covering them with military-style camouflage netting.

  The first things Ian spotted as E approached him down at the water’s edge, was he was no longer wearing his dark glasses. His seemingly bioluminescent eyes, now appeared to Ian, to glow with a yellow light not unlike the eye shine of a wolf.

  Ian was so intrigued by E’s eyes that he couldn‘t help but comment on them. “The first time you showed me your eyes, they seemed to radiate garnet red. Now they appear as if they are yellow like that of a…”

  E interrupted, “The flashlight that I had you hold on the duffle bag, was for your benefit, Ian. One of my little membership benefits is exceptional vision, especially at night, or in the dark. There must be some light present. My eyes appear to change color depending upon what type of light is most abundant. Under the right circumstances they even turn blue. But always they appear quite, unnatural. To ones such as yourself anyway.”