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

by David Aslin

  Seeing E’s glowing eyes reminded Ian of what he had sitting on top of his head. He pulled down into position the night vision goggles and switched them on. They made a slight whistle-buzz, then in an instant they were on. Ian turned off his flashlight and put it in his pocket. He was amazed at how well the night vision goggles worked even in the near total absence of light. He could see all around just fine. It reminded him of looking at the world as if it were black and white television, just done in shades of green, rather than grey.

  “Don’t look at my eyes while you’ve got those things on.” E said, but like a moth to a flame, upon hearing those very words, Ian did just exactly the opposite as instructed.

  “Shit!… Holy Shit!” Ian exclaimed as he instantly was nearly flash-blinded.

  “Some lessons are learned the hard way.” E exclaimed as he laughed. “Don’t worry, just close your eyes for a moment, and then blink hard a few times. The dots, the blind spots will fade in a few minutes. You‘ll be fine. But let that be a lesson. Take those things off before we step into the light. That and, once again, as I said, don’t look at my eyes!”

  Ian shook his head as he silently mused, He means what he says, I’ll give him that.

  “Anyway, like I was saying before, operating under the assumption that the employee turnover is high, and knowing a little about the culture of places such as this. I’d say this is about as good of a cover story as any. We tell whoever might ask that we’re both new on the job. We were told to do some clean-up duty down at the cemetery. Ian, we make it sound as if we were obviously, hazed. Harmlessly pranked, as new hires often are. We can’t recall the names of the guys who told us what we were supposed to do. But, there were no tools where they said they’d be, down at the cemetery. Then you look them straight in their eyes and say something like, and did you know, it’s slippery as hell down there? We both fell more than once. In other words, we paint ourselves as being a couple of fools, who were victims of a fool’s errand. That will explain why we’re soaked and soiled. Or, in the colorful American vernacular, we’re a couple of tools. Should it come up, I must wear dark lens glasses due to my recent cataract surgery.”

  Ian thought for a moment then smiled as he replied. “Not bad! Not bad at all!”

  E set a pace that Ian struggled a bit to keep up with, as they made their way forward and ever upwards through the putrid smelling dank passage. Cave moss was everywhere and the cavern dripped water on them almost as if they were still outside in the rain. Occasionally they would hear thunder crashing, and even though they were now getting far inside the tunnel and it sounded as if it were getting closer by the minute.

  After twenty minutes of steady uphill trudging, E spoke. “According to the map we should be getting very close to the doorway that enters the sub-basement area.” That was good news to Ian who was rapidly running out of what it took to keep going forward; uphill at what he estimated to be at least a six percent grade.

  “There, there it is.” E was now speaking in a much quieter voice. “Just up ahead of us maybe another fifty feet. Do you see it?” Ian strained his eyes as hard as he could, but even with his night vision goggles he couldn’t focus on anything particularly distinguishable so far ahead. Short of breath and gasping for air, he didn’t bother replying.

  After another twenty feet of now, near continuous climbing Ian drew into focus what E had seen minutes earlier. Ian gasped for air as he spoke. “You’re right, there’s definitely some kind of a door up ahead.” Ian paused to catch his breath before continuing. “What do, what do we do if it’s locked up tight? Maybe even welded shut or something like that. You know for added security.”

  E didn’t rapidly reply. He contemplated on Ian’s legitimate concerns for a few seconds as they continued their approach to what now appeared to both of them to be a large thick iron, heavily rusted, fortress-style double swing doorway. The door was located adjacent to an expanded steel grated, storm sewage drain trap; that even if they could pry open was too small for either man to crawl through.

  The fortress doors had a large lever in its center, one that when pulled clockwise was devised to release the door from its present locked position like a submarine bulkhead type door. There were no visible locks at least on their side of the door, as the two men now stood side by side looking it over. To Ian, it appeared an impossible barrier to breech.

  Ian was concerned that even if the door wasn’t locked from the inside, it was so heavily rusted. And that alone, might have it permanently fused, unable to be opened by anything shy of strategically placed explosives.

  E took hold of the wheel-handle and with great force tried to turn it. It didn’t budge. He tried once more with all of his very considerable might… but with the same result.

  E turned to Ian as he spoke, “Okay. It’s easy to assume that this door is solidly locked from the inside. My guess is the lock is located just to the left of this handle. That would keep with the designs of these types of fortress heavy doors back in the seventeen hundreds.”

  E unzipped his jumpsuit and reached inside his utility vest. He brought out a small wrapped rectangle block, that was marked, PE-4. Ian immediately surmised, knowing E was much more than merely Boy Scout prepared, that what E held was likely some kind of plastic explosive. Ian didn’t recognize the markings, but it looked very familiar to him. He knew about C-4, also known as composition C. He guessed it was likely similar. Ian had been involved in various digs around the globe that had required the occasional strategic use of explosives, to move large areas of solid bedrock. Back in his pre and post doctorate years in archeology, paleontology, and zoology; those were the traditional disciplines that he loved. But ever since he was smitten, albeit only momentarily by a flash of fame, as the co-discoverer of a previously thought to be extinct fish found off the coast of Madagascar; that short lived fame proved more powerfully seductive to Ian than any drug. And from that time forward until recent years, such conventional fields of research, with all their dogma, seemed far less romantic to him, and could not hold sway his insatiable attraction to pursue the less conventional, but sexier in his mind’s eye, world of cryptozoology. Presently re-stylized primarily to pay the bills, as a paranormal investigator.

  E looked at Ian while he unwrapped and then began molding the compound. “If you haven’t guessed already, and I’m guessing you have, this is plastic explosive. I didn’t want to use it unless absolutely necessary, due to the loud noise it will make. But, since the storm has drawn so close to the island, I think I can time our explosion to a thunder burst. Hopefully that will offer some camouflage, so to speak.” Ian listened to the intensity of the storm for a moment. He then smiled and nodded, agreeing that it was a good plan.

  E molded the plastic explosive onto the door right where he’d told Ian that he guessed was where the locking mechanism was centralized on the other side.

  “Normally, I wouldn’t use an entire brick of this stuff for, well this sort of thing. But these doors are very much like the door of a vault, and I think it’s going to take a hell of a bang to do the trick.” E then stuck into the plastique a detonating blasting device that had a cord extended from it.

  “This is a short fuse igniter. You better get back at least thirty feet, and keep your head down. It’s possible that shrapnel could fly about.”

  “Why can’t you just shoot the plastic explosive from a distance with your gun? I’m sure you’re a crack shot, and you’re guns got that, silencer.”

  E looked over at Ian who hadn’t moved away from the blast zone yet. “Well that would be a great idea, Ian. Except for one problem, plastic explosive doesn’t work that way. You can’t detonate it by shooting it. Hell, you can even burn the stuff and it won’t explode. It takes a heat shock-wave detonator system to ignite it. That I’ve got… but like I said, this is a short fuse, about fifteen seconds. This type of fuse is primarily devised for a much smaller charge than I’ve got in store for us here. Anyway, once again, hurry up move away and make it
a considerable distance so you don’t lose that pretty face of yours. And it’s going to be loud, especially in this tunnel, so cover your ears and good!” E smiled at Ian as he motioned for Ian to get a move on. Ian turned and nearly broke into a jog as he moved downhill and away from the blast area. He then crouched onto his knees and held his hands over his ears.

  E pulled the rip-cord at the end of the blast detonation device, with a flash it ignited and began its timed-ignition travel towards its core that was shoved deep into the plastic explosive. E then turned and walked briskly away from the door. Somehow nearly perfectly timed both men heard a loud thunderous crash from high above, then within a nano-second came a blast-boom a hundred times louder. Smoke filled the air. No shrapnel flew but a cascade of cave moss rained down upon them; quickly followed by a thick cloud of dust and small debris that nearly covered them and made visibility nearly impossible for a few minutes.

  After the cloud of dust had dissipated, Ian rose up from his crouching position and he quickly caught up to E who was already on the move. Both men dusted themselves off best they could then walked back up to the door. At first glance the door appeared to be relatively intact; but as the men drew closer they both saw clearly that it was neatly folded-in where the plastic had exploded. The steering wheel style door-handle had been completely blown off. But there was a gap creating an opening formed by the doors partial folding. E wrapped his powerful hands around the door gap and began to grunt and grown as he pulled. Ian could see that E was straining every fiber of his being as he attacked the door with his super-human might. Slowly the fortress door began to open, slightly. Then all at once the doors massive hinges let out an almost deafening squelching noise. One that sounded to Ian as if the door had just painfully and begrudgingly acknowledged its impending doom. Seconds later E managed to pull the massive door open just wide enough for both men to pass.

  CHAPTER 13

  Dungeons and Dragons

  “Okay. Everything should be pretty normal for a bit. We’re in the sub-basement area, what was once the boiler room. That’s all been changed and refitted elsewhere. Again, this should be a totally abandoned zone. But, as we go upwards from here, that’s where it could get dicey quick. This part of the prison hospital is for the most severe of the crazy’s. But believe me, they’re all crazy here! We may run into guard check points and lockouts. There wasn’t much information on the latest retrofits that this place has undergone. So, we may have to, for the most part, wing it!”

  Wing it! Ian silently mused on those words as he swallowed the large lump that had welled up in his throat. Wing it, he says!

  “Now just up that stairway over there,” E pointed to an old iron stairwell that led to the next level higher. “Once up to that stairwell and cat-walk which leads to that door,” E pointed to what he was referring, “beyond that doorway, I don’t think you’re going to need those night vision spectacles anymore. There should be at least some primitive electrical lighting from that area on up to the prison-house level.

  Ian nodded his head that he understood. E took the lead and they began making their way over to the metal stairs. Single filed they climbed the stairwell, E was a bit quicker than Ian, though Ian did a fair job of keeping up.

  Once they both crossed over the small catwalk at the top of the stairs, and to the doorway, E looked back over his shoulder at Ian. “Okay, I think, that there won’t be anything much happening on the other side of this door, but after that, its game time, so look sharp, understood?”

  Ian short of breath took a deep gasp before answering, “Yeah, I gotcha!”

  E opened the door. It was just like he’d predicted, there was nothing in the next chamber other than some old electrical panels and steam valves, all of which looked totally derelict and inoperable. But also like E had guessed, the room was dimly lighted. Ian immediately switched-off his goggles and set them on the deck before they moved forward. Ian knew if necessary, he still had his flashlight that he could fall back on if it got any darker along their way.

  “All right. There’s just one more metal staircase to climb and we should be at the lowest levels of the prison hospital. Mainly used for an infirmary, and for more insidious purposes, at least that is what I’ve been told, and I’m betting that’s right. So here goes.”

  E rapidly crossed the room and began climbing the staircase. Ian was bringing up the rear as fast as he could.

  Both men now stood on a small platform located at the top of the stairs a door directly in front of them. They could hear the thunder and pounding storm louder again now.

  E looked directly at Ian. Ian now able to look E directly into his still semi-luminescent eyes, gestured to E that he might want to put his sunglasses on now. E smiled and nodded yes as he reached into his vest and retrieved his glasses. E then zipped-up his jump suit. “Well, now… we’re not as filthy as I thought we’d be. We just look like a couple of, shmucks who got duped. Speaking in the Americanized vernacular of the Yiddish. Anyway, get your game face on as you Yanks are so fond of saying. From here on in, take little shite and take no prisoners!”

  “Take no prisoners?” Ian said nervously laughing.

  Ian took three consecutive deep breaths than spoke, “Okay, okay all right. I can do this. You’ve got a license to kill; add to that with your training, your uniquely specialized skill set, along with your enhanced physical abilities, hell you’re like Rambo meets Captain America, meets Dracula. Me, I’ve got a license to drive, and an expired fishing license. Ah, fuck it, let’s do this thing.” Ian silently mused, Must be nice being nearly a god. What I wouldn’t do for a shot of Jack Daniels and a vampire blood chaser about now.

  E crossed the threshold and entered the room. He glanced back and signaled to Ian that the coast was clear. Ian too then followed him into the room. Both men panned their eyes around the entire area. The room had been retro-fitted to become an operating room. There were three gurneys and two operating tables. Above which were all of the standard examination room style overhead lights, and stainless steel rolling trollies and trays. Trays well stocked with assortments of scalpels and bone saws. The room instantly gave Ian the creeps. It looked to him to be straight out of a 1940’s Universal Studios horror movie.

  “What do you suppose they need all this equipment for? Seems a bit much for setting the occasional broken bone, you know injuries caused from fights between patients and, well, orderlies and the guards and the like, doesn’t it?” Ian sheepishly asked.

  E replied, “Unless of course it’s just what it looks like. A factory for making monsters.”

  E heard it first. He signaled for Ian to be quiet. “Shhhh, listen.” Ian did as instructed. He strained to listen as hard as he could. At first he heard nothing more than the storm raging outside, but soon he too began hearing what had E’s attention. Strange gurgling, moaning, grunting sounds that seemed to be coming from somewhere outside the room.

  E looked over at Ian as they both began slowly walking towards the door that was in the direction of the sounds.

  Both men stood at the threshold that entered into the prison. The moaning sounds beyond the door were clearly growing louder by the moment. From their present vantage point, at least to Ian, the strange noises didn’t sound as if they were close by, not yet anyway. But Ian knew that a place like this could create echo’s that made pinpointing the actual direction and distance nearly impossible, most likely even for E.

  E looked directly at Ian. “Look. I really don’t know exactly what we’re going to be facing from here on out. Your guess is as good as mine, perhaps even better. That’s why Clayton wanted you in on this. If you’re hearing even a fraction of what I am hearing, it doesn’t sound good. But, in all fairness, these places by their own nature are usually filled with the sounds of depraved crazies. So, well, stay close to me. Don’t get separated from me, under any circumstance. Oh, and Ian, actually, I do have a license to kill. That said, understand, I have no intentions of being taken alive, arrested, or, anyt
hing of the kind. Not that they could hold me long. Anyway, I’m sure you don’t want any of that yourself; so, again, stay close to me. I’ve promised Clayton that I’d take care of you. Given the chance, I will. Besides, I am beginning to like you Ian. That puts you on a very short list of, well, people I like, humans and otherwise. Okay then, enough sentiment. You listen and do exactly what I tell you, and do it exactly the moment I tell you to. Stay sharp and you’ll do just fine.” E with a cheeky expression on his face partially repeated himself, “You’ll do just fine, if you’re as smart as I believe you are. And as lucky as I hear tell.”

  “All right, lets go.” E said in a quiet voice.

  E unzipped his jump-suit just enough to retrieve his silencer-attached hand gun. He held his pistol in his right hand as he opened the door with his left. Ian quickly knelt down and retrieved from its ankle holster his .32 Beretta. “Did I tell you to get your gun out?” E quietly snapped at Ian. Ian suddenly pale faced shook his head no. “Good, you can think for yourself. But that’s the last time. From here on. Do only as I say.”

  Ian was confused, “Do you mean should I stow my gun?”

  “No. That was good thinking. But be ready to quickly stow it. Holster it fast if I give the signal.” Ian nodded that he understood.