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

by David Aslin

  E took the lead with Ian three feet behind. The hallway was dimly lit and nearly as dank as the chambers below. The lighting was powered by old external metal conduit-piping. The cage-lights looked like the kind you’d expect to find on a vintage World War II battleship, or submarine. The hallway showed vivid signs of past efforts devised to bring the place up to a semblance of present day electrical code. Some new conduit and yet to be completed wiring hung here and there. But it was very apparent by the thick dust covering of such efforts, that they had been abandoned or postponed some time ago.

  Ian continued listening for the moaning and groaning noises, but he couldn’t hear them any longer above all of the other noise. Even E with his enhanced hearing, couldn’t distinguish those sounds from the noise of the storm. They had faded to obscurity. Masked behind the intensely loud incessant base-drum pounding of thunder.

  The dim overhead lights had begun to flicker sporadically from the fierceness of the electrical storm.

  Ian half expected to see Doctor Frankenstein, and his hunchbacked assistant, pass them by in the hallway; heading to the room they’d just egressed. Back to further the creation of the crazed doctor’s undying monster. His brain was a-wash with speculative horrors. The theater of the mind created by the place, the setting, all of it, to Ian, was surreal and maniacal, in every aspect.

  The two men continued down the long corridor which had grown frighteningly quiet.

  Ian whispered, “Do you get the feeling that we are maybe being, set up?”

  E didn’t answer right away. But after a protracted moment he came to a halt, turned his head and looked back over his shoulder at Ian, who in turn stopped dead in his tracks. “That I hadn’t considered, but, given all of the conveniently similar hear-say, your instincts might not be far off the mark. Should anything like it prove out. I’ll get you out of here one way or another, I promise.”

  Ian thought to himself, Don’t make promises you might not be able to deliver.

  E motioned for them to continue forward down the hall. They were now rapidly closing on the next doorway that led to where? They did not know.

  Now at the door, E looked into the adjacent room, through the doors small, head-high, chicken wire reinforced glass window. E quickly noted that though the heavy metal door was formidably lockable, and luckily for them, it wasn’t.

  E peered around the room beyond primarily focusing on a small guard station room adjacent to a large heavily barred gated cage-style entrance. E could see inside the guard station. He spotted a computer and a panel of remote camera monitoring screens. Just past the guard station were typical prison steel bars and barred-gates that led to what from E’s vantage point most likely was the ingress into at least one of the prison hospital’s cell blocks.

  E motioned for Ian to step up to the door and have a look into the room for himself.

  As Ian did just that he silently recalled, Looks like, Alcatraz, on that tour I took with my…

  Ian’s thoughts were interrupted by E, who spoke in just above a whisper. “There’s something off here. I haven‘t seen anyone, you?” Ian shook his head, no in silent reply. E continued, “Definitely not right, not a soul around. Weird.” E looked directly at Ian. He raised his right eyebrow as he thoughtfully continued. “Unless, well, unless this area’s no longer used?” Ian nodded that, indeed might be the case.

  “Okay. Let’s go in this, less than gilded cage.” E said as he opened the door.

  Ian followed E into the room which looked like a dilapidated version of a typical top security prison hospital ward, albeit absent of guards, orderlies, nurses, and so far, inmates as well.

  The place was quiet. Too quiet. The two men walked over to take a look inside the guard room. They both simultaneously spotted sitting on top of a desk, a cup of apparently half consumed black coffee. E stepped inside the office and began looking all around. He picked up the coffee cup, it was no more than room temperature. Next to where the coffee cup had been was an ashtray. The ashtray was nearly filled with cigarette butts, but what appeared odd was there was one cigarette that had reduced itself undisturbed, burned down to nothing but two inches ash and filter. The sight of the long burnt-up cigarette remains, reminded Ian of those small, flat-disk shaped black magnet-looking fireworks. Ones that as a kid every 4th of July, he loved to light on fire, to watch them smoke and burn, as they grew outward from themselves, worming and twisting into smoldering ash, snakes.

  Both men looked down the long barred two story corridor. There were no sounds coming from the cells. One thing both men knew for certain was prisons were anything but quiet places. Especially a prison occupied by despicably homicidal madmen.

  E no longer even attempted to speak quietly. He turned to Ian and spoke in his normal mildly Scotch-Irish intonated voice. “Something is definitely out of sorts here.”

  Ian nodded his head in agreement as he replied in a quiet voice, “Yeah. Someone or something cleared this place out, and fast. You don‘t suppose the island was evacuated due to the hurricane do you?” E noticed the elevated stress in Ian’s voice.

  E replied, “They’d never send these scum anywhere but here. Let’s go inside the cell block and have a peek around, shall we?” E started slowly walking towards the main gate to the cell block. “Maybe we’ll spot something that will shed some light on what is going on around here.” He said as he motioned for Ian to follow him. The main gated entrance was wide open.

  The two men looked at each other and Ian spoke, “This certainly…” Ian cleared his throat before continuing to speak his mind. Occasionally he had to battle not stammering when he was nervous and just plain scared, “This… uh… the gate being wide open… nobody around. This… this looks anything but… but… auspicious. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Ian was praying, hoping against hope that E would agree.

  “Say, E… I’ve got an idea. What do ya say we turn-around and get the hell out of this place? Like say, right now! I mean… uh, clearly it’s abandoned… and, well…” Ian could see from the instant intense frown that suddenly overtook E’s face by what he’d just suggested, that he’d better quickly renounce that idea, “Okay… hey it was just a thought. Of course I was mostly kidding. Mostly. But, hey, you’re the boss. Lead and I’ll… I’ll follow.” Ian nervously said, then silently mused to himself. Like I have much choice.

  They both knew that under any normal circumstance, that would be something you’d never see in a maximum security prison; whether it be the hospital wing, or otherwise.

  The two men now stood at the threshold of the cell block, and it was then that they both saw what nearly caused Ian’s heart to stop in mid beat. There were large, long viscous bloody smears all over the otherwise heavily waxed shiny tile floor. Both men knew what they were seeing. It didn’t require a forensic expert to immediately deduce that by the length and pattern of the multiple bloody smears, heavily bleeding bodies had been dragged here and there; but all the blood tracks and bloody foot prints headed in the opposite direction from where they now stood.

  “Okay. Ian, it’s starting to become pretty apparent that at least some of the stories about this place are likely to be true, to some extent, anyway.” E said as he stared through his sunglasses, directly into Ian’s eyes. Ian couldn’t help but shudder from the bloody spectacle before them. That, and the empirical realization that something very violent had indeed gone on here, and may very well still be occurring … somewhere within the walls of the giant fortress prison.

  E pulled out his handgun, “Ian, I suggest you un-bridle that little pony of yours.” Ian took a deep breath, then retrieved his previously re-holstered pistol. He let out a large sigh as he thought to himself, Here I go again, pursuing monsters like some sort of modern day dragon slayer. This place certainly looks like a dungeon. Dungeons and dragons, now that’s Funny! God, there must be something seriously wrong with me…

  CHAPTER 14

  Cell Block “Z”

  “E… maybe the prison
ers have taken over this place? You know… killed the guards or, have them held hostage, and…” Ian said with a perplexed tone to his voice that he didn’t even try to mask, as he looked intensely in every direction throughout the cell-block.

  E looked back over his shoulder towards Ian as he replied, “Yeah, maybe. Not that, that wouldn’t be bad. But after all the stories, I believe something much bigger has this fortresses’ stone walls by its collective steel balls.”

  Ian spoke up, “You believe whole heartedly, that we’re dealing with monster makers don’t you? With all this blood on the floor and nobody being around, you… your thinking Pandora’s Box has been opened, or to mix metaphors, you think the genie, or in this case, zombies are out of the bottle, and up to no good!” Ian shuttered at the thought. E didn’t reply, he just signaled with a short wave of his hand, for Ian to keep up; to stay close behind him as they crossed the bloodied floor of the cell block.

  “Well, we’re going to find out soon enough, this place has two other cell blocks, Y and X.”

  Ian spoke up in an obviously heavily stressed voice… what cell block is this?”

  E answered without hesitation, “Z Ian, this is cell block, Z.

  Ian laughed and shook his head as he pondered the irony, Naturally, it would just have to be Z, because Z is for, zombies.

  The two men continued their slow walk across cell block Z. They both continuously moved their heads back and forth panning their eyes around in every direction, primarily focusing on each individual cell, whose barred doors were all open.

  “Ian, at the guard station back there. All of the cell doors can be opened and closed independently. They can also, as it appears to have happened here, be opened all at once by a master switch. That, or in the case of a power outage, they can all be opened by pulling a lever. Someone wanted to let all of the inmates out at once. Which is typical several times a day. Chow time. Exercise time. Random searches and the like. But I’m pretty certain a man like you has noticed the same thing that I have, beyond the total absence of staff, guards, orderlies, nurses and the like. ” E said in a monotone voice.

  Ian cleared his throat, “Yeah, no prisoners? Other than nobody being around, it hasn’t been abandoned, not for long anyway. Besides what we saw back at the guard station, all of the cells are filled with inmate’s personal items. Posters on the walls. Bunks look recently used…”

  E replied, “Exactly!”

  “What does this all mean?” Ian said just before spotting a sight that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

  “Oh my God! That can’t be what it looks like from here!” Ian said as he continued walking towards what had caught his attention.

  “Ian. Let me go in front of you.” E spoke as his attention was now also trained on what Ian had spotted.

  Both men hastened their pace to close in on the point of Ian’s repulsed fascination. Instantly, E focused with vivid clarity on what had initially grabbed Ian’s attention. E, now with his pistol in double hand held ready to fire position, motioned for Ian to get behind him. Ian did just that as both men rapidly closed on the point, the object of interest. Within seconds, though just behind E, Ian too had drawn close enough to see clearly what he’d only thought he might be seeing just seconds before. Upon unmistakably making out what had initially drawn his attention, Ian bent over at the waist and began uncontrollably gagging until he could hold it back no longer. In one convulsive eruption, Ian lost his lunch, and his dinner from the night before, in an impressively voluminous projection of vile smelling, Pepto-Bismol colored, chunk laden vomit. Regurgitation that had almost instantaneously projectile spewed from his mouth crash landing to form a heavily textured, pink puke fresco, painting an area of several feet, to what otherwise appeared as a nicely waxed terrazzo floor. Ian caught his breath just long enough as he opened his eyes, to witness some of his up heaving’s flowing amorphously from the tops of his shoes.

  E walked closer to the grotesque spectacle. Suspended between cells bars, were a pair of handcuffs. Handcuffs that had been used to restrain an inmate in a standing position. Nothing else remained of the inmate, other than his hands that had been torn, ripped or otherwise… completely detached and void of his arms, that were nowhere in sight. The fact was, no other remains of the handless inmate was anywhere in the immediate vicinity. The only other thing left of the former detainee, was a large pool of blood just beneath the dangling hand-cuffed hands. There was a very apparent blood smear trail… that trailed off from the prison cell, towards the nearby exit. The exit was located at the opposite end from where they’d originally entered the cell block. All around the scene was a multitude of blood stained footprints that appeared to eventually lead off in the direction of the blood smear.

  Ian had managed to collect himself, “Sorry about that.” He said while still bent over with his hands on his hips. He then managed to stand erect. He too began surveying the grisly sight as he wiped spittle away from his mouth and chin with the sleeve of his jumpsuit.

  “Ian, it doesn’t take a forensic genius to figure out what’s happened here. If you look closely at the puddle of blood beneath the, the hands…” Though still repulsed, Ian forced himself to look at what E was referring to. “See there, that’s part of a broken tooth on the floor. At first glance you might presume maybe this poor cuffed bastard lost his tooth during a beating by the guards. But, now look at the hand… the left one.” Ian did just that and spotted clearly what E was referring to. There was the rest of the tooth, shiny gold filling and all, imbedded in the top of the dangling wrist.

  “Holy shit! This man’s hands were, chewed off!” Ian said abruptly.

  E fired back, “And not likely by himself, by the looks of all the footprints, and drag marks. That, and it doesn’t look like any shoes or bare feet were dragged behind the body. If you look close, see all of those bits of flesh mixed in with the blood. I’m guessing it’s primarily pieces of intestines. His torso, and maybe his head was all that was left of this guy before they dragged him off.”

  A cold shudder traveled up and down Ian’s spine. What he’d thought all along to be at most, a remote possibility, had all at once become the most plausible reality.

  Ian followed closely behind E, who in turn was following a trail of blood that trailed out of cell block Z, left down a long corridor. Both men spotted a sign that clearly spelled out that if they continued down the hallway in the direction they were presently heading, they’d wind up in the Psych Evaluation Ward and the Infirmary. Had they opted to turn right when they’d exited the cell block, it would have lead them to cell block Y. Supposedly a lesser security area. Ian scoffed at that idea. He silently mused, Anyone deranged enough to be sentenced to this place, no doubt would as soon kill ya, as to look at ya, regardless of what cell block they’ve been assigned to.

  “Keep that peashooter of yours in hand and ready.” E said sternly.

  E turned his head back towards Ian and pointed to his left ear. Signaling Ian to listen carefully. Ian did exactly that, within seconds, he could hear the eerie sounds as well. A low muffled moaning noise, that sounded like it was coming from far up ahead.

  E stopped abruptly and turned around to face Ian. He then spoke in little more than a whisper, “Ian, you probably already know this, but, you can’t always trust what direction sounds are coming from in a place like this. So much stone, steel and long hallways.” Ian nodded as he quietly replied, “Echoes.” E nodded in agreement. He then turned and they began once again moving forward.

  Ian hadn’t been this apprehensive, since heading into Jean-Chastel Gevaudan’s cabin back at Harmony Falls. The two men were nearly to the doorway that opened to the hospital wing of the prison. E again stopped dead in his tracts. He motioned for Ian to come alongside him. E then whispered into Ian’s right ear. “When we go inside, I’ll primarily pan my gun high and to the right. You cover low and left. We don’t want to end up shooting each other in any crossfire, should things get hairy. You understand?�
� Ian nervously nodded that he understood as he replied in a whisper, “Low and left, got it.”

  Before E began opening the door to the infirmary, he pointed out to Ian that there was dried blood all around the doorknob. Ian had already seen the blood, but somehow having E make a point of it, drove the significant danger of that fact, home.

  E whispered to Ian, “We go on three. One… two…

  CHAPTER 15

  TEOTWAWKI

  The two men stood inside the doorway. E stood tall as he panned his gun back and forth, primarily focusing on the center and right side of the room. Ian was doing exactly same as he’d been instructed, he was crouched low and was covering the left side of the room. Neither man was fully prepared to witness the gore that was everywhere throughout the infirmary ward. There were heavily gnawed-on human body parts scattered all over the room. Blood soaked gurney’s and treatment tables that had over-flowed with dripping blood. Blood that pooled on the floor all around semi-coiled remnants of entrails and bone fragments. By the looks of the shredded clothing, the human remains were comprised of inmates, prison hospital staff, and doctors. It was easy to identify the doctors. They remained partially cloaked in what was even after all of the carnage still identifiable as vomit, urine, fecal and blood sprayed bio-hazard suits. It was more than obvious that something the doctors had failed to anticipate and plan for anything to go terribly and disastrously wrong.

  “These people, these doctors didn’t stand a chance. Some disease struck, something very fast acting…” Try as he might Ian couldn’t even complete a sentence to adequately describe the horror of what he was seeing.

  As Ian better drew into focus what was before them scattered across desks and the floor; he became overwhelmed by the horrific spectacle. He began uncontrollably gagging as he gazed around through teary eyes in utter disbelief. Ian shuddered then could keep the silence no longer as he shouted out, “FUCK ME! OH MY GOD!”