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

by David Aslin

  E turned towards Ian and indicated for him to quiet down immediately before he spoke in little more than a whisper, “Unless you want us to end up like these poor bastards. I suggest you shut the fuck up, and stop screaming and giving away our position.”

  Ian understood. He fought hard to regain a semblance of composure. Finally, as the two men continued looking around the room for any signs of life, living or otherwise, Ian managed to muster enough self-control to ask a question. He looked directly at E, cleared his throat and whispered, “It looks like the doctors were in hazmat suits. Are we, well, am I screwed by whatever infectious bugs might be all around us, is it possibly airborne, maybe?”

  E pondered Ian’s question for a couple of seconds before he answered, “I seriously doubt it Ian. I’m guessing those suits were used in an earlier stage of the experiments. I say this based on the intel that I’d received that so far, seems to be holding true. I’m guessing they put the suits on out of fear or desperation. The bug they unwittingly turned loose here, that I’m guessing has infected many more than they intended; I was informed it was designed not to be an airborne pathogen. But, who the hell knows. So if you don’t want me to shoot you between your eyes, I’d advise you to not look at me like I’m steak tar-tar.” Ian grinned slightly. He knew E was just trying in his way, to calm him down.

  “Okay.” Ian continued in a shaky but very quiet voice, “Let’s say you’re right. And I’m, or we’re not going to die from the bug directly from air contact. How many inmates and staff did you say this place has? Guessing that they haven’t all had a chance to cannibalize each other, yet.” Ian paused, but continued before E had a chance to reply. “I mean, I’ve only got the rounds in my gun and a couple extra magazines. I’m guessing you’ve got about the same, more or less. I’m guessing that you’re packing a few other surprises in that vest of yours, but…”

  E interrupted, neither of us together or separate have enough fire power to take down more than a couple dozen of the buggers at best. “Yes. I was thinking that very same thing. Well, we’ll just have to improvise.” Ian looked directly at E as he replied, “Improvise?” E nodded yes, than signaled for Ian to follow him up the hallway into what was supposed to lead to the psychiatric ward of the infirmary.

  E looked at Ian, “Ian, at some point this is bound to get very hairy, you understand? Can you do this? If not, we can maybe go back and lock you into a cell, or…”

  Ian now much more together than he’d been just minutes before, quietly replied in the calmest way he could. “No. I mean, don’t leave me alone in this… I’m fine. I’m just, I’ll be fine.”

  As they approached the Psych Ward they both noticed something strange. Unlike the infirmary that they’d previously entered, this ward was absent of dead bodies and human remains. Ian turned towards E, “Suppose the men who once occupied these gurney beds, suppose they managed to get up and…” E nodded his head in agreement as he pointed to one of the beds whose arm and leg restraints where bloodied but still buckled. Buckled, yet torn apart.

  There were a number of other beds, but only the one looked disturbed, like the one that had the bloody torn restraints.

  Ian surmising that E was thinking relatively the same thing, spoke in a muffled voice, “My God. Could all of this have been caused by just one man? A patient zero?”

  E looked at Ian, “Maybe. Ian, this is going to sound obvious, but under no circumstance allow anybody, no matter how sane they might appear, close enough to help themselves to an arm or, rack of Ian. Trust nobody. I mean, shoot to kill anything that stands or squats to piss. Conserve your rounds by shooting the chest. Better still, the head. If you want to survive, compassion cannot come into play, do you understand?”

  Ian nodded that he understood, he was sincere. He’d been in similar situations where compassion could take no part in the decision making process back in Harmony Falls and Astoria, Oregon. Ian had come to terms, he was reconciled to do whatever was necessary for their survival.

  “E, you made a point of saying, shoot the head. That sounds like something out of a “B” style zombie movie.” E looked directly at Ian, “Okay Ian, you’ve got my attention, what’s your point?”

  Ian took a deep breath and looked around in every direction. Everything still seemed calm enough at the moment. But he was sure, as calm as it seemed to be, a shit-storm was brewing. One that made the growing hurricane outside seem of little consequence.

  “E, Clayton once told me, regarding your kind, well, moreover pure bloods, anyway, he said there’s no such thing as the undead, or the walking dead or any of that shit. Not in the truest sense of the meaning anyway. Clayton told me that all life forms are either alive, or they’re dead. Regardless of how they may appear. So, if that’s true, why shoot their head, destroy their brain as it were, again like what you see in just about every freaking zombie movie. Won’t a shot to any vital spot do the trick?”

  E paused for a moment before answering. “My guess is what Clayton told you holds true, probably, to all things on this Earth. But, why the hell take any chances?” E paced back and forth as he looked around the room in every direction. “Besides, more importantly, if we encounter what you call zombies, or zoms, the important thing is to stop them in their tracts and quick. I’m guessing from what I’ve been told that they are the products of disease and drugs. If so, if they’re condition is created by a combination of disease and drugs, it’s reasonable to assume they will be little or no effect from shock or pain. I’m guessing that body shots if not directly to their heart would initially anyway have little more effect on them other than slow them down a step or two. Offering not much stopping power until they eventually bleed out. But a headshot, one that nearly instantly destroys the brain, or a round fired directly into their heart, thereby destroying their pump; well, those are two sure-fire ways to stop them dead in their tracks. Or, their undead tracks, and if I’m wrong...” E grinned.

  Ian smiled slightly as he thought about what E had just said. He then nodded in agreement. He couldn’t find flaw in E’s logic.

  “Okay. Let’s get out of here and head to the next, cell blocks. By the way Ian, be warned, that’s the actual direction those moans and sounds are coming from.”

  Ian spoke in nearly his regular voice, not trying to be overly quiet. “E, what do ya say we just get the hell out of here? Go back the way we came. We can anonymously notify the authorities that there’s some weird shit going on here, and…”

  E looked directly at Ian, “That’s not going to happen. I was sent, to do this little investigation, and to it clean-up, should it go down that way, by the council of twelve. They like me to operate above and beyond the law like they always have. Ian, I haven’t been totally up front with you. What I’ve told you is mostly the truth, but, the whole truth is, there is no maybe about it, zom’s do exist. That’s a term like you coined; we also called the heavily experimented on, starved, atrophied walking dead of the concentration camps like Auschwitz in Nazi Germany, that. Ian, this is ground zero for what could become the largest global pandemic shite-storm of all time. Not to mention the potential rising of a new global Nazi party… in what could ultimately be the Fourth Reich. Beginning by uniting all of the organized crime syndicates throughout North America, Europe, and much of the rest of the world. At least that’s their ultimate goal. But, the fire they’re playing with could end up bringing down their plans, and the rest of humanity with it. And that simply will not due. No humans, no vampires. Without untainted human blood as their food source, that would also spell the extinction of all vampires. I was sent here to terminate with extreme prejudice any and all threats regarding that at all cost. You, well, you’re either going to be collateral damage, or, the source of Clayton’s next best seller. Do you understand me Ian? You’re being played, a pawn, as am I. We’ve both been set up by the council, and hell, to an extent by Clayton too for that matter. Anyway, there are powerful forces that would just as soon see me, and you, for that matter, not
leave this Island alive. In your case due to how much you already know of their very existence. But be assured, one way or another, I’m going to get you off this Island, and in one piece! I like you Ian. That’s something I haven’t said to anyone mortal or immortal, for a very long time.”

  Ian looked directly into E’s sunglasses with a serious as a heart attack expression on his face, “I appreciate you being honest with me. To be completely truthful with you, and myself,” Ian paused, took a deep breath, exhaled, then continued, “I pretty much guessed as much, E, and I like you too.”

  Ian took a deep breath than continued, “Oh, well, I see now that this is bigger than you, and me. What the fuck, no pressure, just saving the world. If they are in fact the walking dead, let’s go kill some, zombies. If the poor bastards are the walking, alive and just very sick, well, then, let’s go kill them zom’s too. Then let’s find those asshole doctors who are responsible for this mess in the first place. Who knows E, we may even save the world in the process and be the only ones who will know it. Well, besides Clayton and the council that is. Regardless of how this all plays out, even if it all goes to shit, we’ll go down swinging for the fence.”

  E smiled as he replied, “That’s the spirit!” He was genuinely impressed by Ian’s courage.

  Ian silently mused, I just, wish I could have told Zoey how I feel about her. Tell her more than anything, she saved me. Oh Christ, Scout. If I don’t make it, what’s going to become of him?

  CHAPTER 16

  ANTHROPOPHAGOUS

  Due to the raging storm the lights flickered on and off three more times before totally failing. Shortly after the lights went out, the back-up generator kicked on. There was a lot of buzzing sounds and a series of flickers, but then the lights came back on.

  The two men proceeded on towards cell block X.

  E looked back over his shoulder at Ian and said in just above a whisper, “Ian according to the information that my sources supplied me, which so far at least appears to be pretty reliable, cell block X is where they house the most violent of the crazies in this place. You stick close to me because I’ve got a strong suspicion that things are about to get, as you yanks are so fond of saying, very real!” Ian gulped at the thought, as he silently nodded his head in agreement.

  As E walked ahead, he continuously used a two hand grip, panning his handgun everywhere he looked. Ian tried as best he could to mimic E’s method and motions. E knew very well that Ian was no expert at this sort of thing, but all in all he was impressed by how fast Ian was adapting.

  As the men had made their way two-thirds up the hallway, they came upon what was obviously a holding room located on the right side of the corridor. Ian immediately deduced it was probably used to separate someone from the general population. By the looks of the antique hospital bed with leather straps in the room, Ian guessed it most likely was used for short term restraining and sedating inmates deemed out of control. Ian felt his theory justified upon spotting a machine that looked to him like a cross between a defibrillator and a car battery-charger. Ian immediately considered it possible that they also occasionally administered electro-shock therapy in the room as well. Ian became further convinced after spotting a rubber mouth piece sitting on a stainless steel tray atop a small desk adjacent to the bed. Ian recognized the mouthpiece. He knew mouthpieces of that nature were devised to insert into a patients mouth during a seizure, whether natural or electrically induced; whereby allowing them to breathe and preventing them from biting their tongue and potentially blocking their airway. Ian silently mused as he stared at the rubber mouthpiece, Electroconvulsive Therapy. If you can call it therapy. Electric shock induced seizures that is what it accomplishes. Temporarily short circuiting the brain. Just what kind of a medieval place is this anyway?

  Ian thought to himself, This place is a nightmare. Right out of an Edgar Allan Poe story.

  Suddenly a loud crash came from back towards the Psyche Ward. E looked at Ian and silently with hand signals indicated for Ian to stay put while he back-tracked the few yards back to the ward where he could poke his head inside and have one more, fast look around. E didn’t intend to let Ian get out of his sight, not for more than a mere second or two anyway.

  Ian gave the thumbs up indicating that he understood to stay put and keep his eyes open. Ian knew by E’s hand signals that he would be back in mere minutes if not sooner.

  Ian nervously watched E head back up the hallway. The lights once again began to buzz and flicker. Then they suddenly went completely off, but it lasted for no more than a couple of seconds. But that was enough to send cold shivers up and down Ian’s spine.

  Then just as E left his sight, as he went through the doorway back into the Psyche Ward, Ian heard strange sounds coming from just ahead of him. The sounds were coming from inside a small, most likely, solitary confinement holding cell up ahead whose solid iron door, like most of the doors in the rest of the place, was open.

  Despite E’s instructions for Ian to stay put, Ian’s curiosity quickly got the best of him. He slowly, proceeded forward towards the sounds, towards the open holding cell.

  Ian cautiously peered around the edge of the door way to have a look inside. It was there that he spotted her. There was a nurse on her hands and knees over by the room’s modest stainless steel toilet and sink, located directly adjacent to the twin bunk beds. The room’s lights began flickering off and on like a strobe light. Ian could faintly hear the storm raging outside the thick stone walls. Ian thought to himself, This storm must have reached hurricane force. Hopefully, it’ll soon pass. I sure as shit don’t wanna be on that little boat in the gulf during a fucking hurricane leaving here.

  Ian pondered the crouching women for a moment, then deduced due to her apparent obliviousness to his presence, she was likely in shock. He quietly called out, “Uh, ma’am. Um, nurse, are you okay?” The nurse seemed to pay little if any attention that Ian was speaking to her. Ian then crossed the threshold and entered into the cell. “Ma’am, I asked are you okay?” Ian could see that the lady seemed very preoccupied. Her head jerked and snapped back and forth. Ian deduced that she must be in severe shock. “Don’t worry ma’am, we’re here to help. We’re gonna get you out of this place.”

  All at once the nurse suddenly seemed to be aware of his presence. Ian slowly, gently reached out his hand to tap her on the shoulder. She began to stand up but hobbled on one leg as she did, with her back remaining towards him. The woman began to slowly, and stiffly, turn her Parkinson’s disease-like, tremoring head and body around in unison; it was as if her neck couldn’t move independently of her shoulders. What Ian saw next caused an instant extreme rise in his blood pressure. One that could have only been matched by his sudden intense panicked terror. Ian thought his head was going to explode, and his heart was about to bass drum pound itself right out of his chest; as he instantly came to the full realization that the ex-nurse standing in front of him held in her hands, what appeared to be left of, a heavily chewed-on human brain. Her eyes appeared pale, as if bleached light gray, almost white. They looked to Ian like those of a decaying dead fish. “Holy shit! E! E! HOLY FUCK E!” Ian screamed at the top of his lungs as he rapidly back-peddled to get out of the cell. But suddenly he lost his footing and began slip-sliding. Then just as suddenly he was on the floor flat on his back. Ian had slipped and fell do to a large blood smear on the tiled floor. The nurse dropped the meal that she’d been ravenously feasting on and began laboriously stumbling her way at him. She then lunged at him. In less time than Ian thought possible she too was on the floor but with both of her hands wrapped around Ian’s right leg. Ian began kicking at the cadaverous looking nurse with all of his might, but she managed to hold on. Then suddenly Ian’s worst nightmare was realized; her blood filled eyes rolled back as she opened her foul mouth wide. Even in his mind bending terror, Ian plainly saw her decrepit teeth crumble as she began biting feverishly into his lower leg with all of her might. After a number of additional powerful adrena
lin charged kicks with his left leg into the top of her head and face … Ian finally managed to kick free from the nurse from hell, and quickly managed to get himself back onto his feet. He then ran out of the room as fast as his blood soaked shoes allowed him to move. As Ian ran, now unconsciously yelling, nearly screaming, he realized as his heart pounded in his chest like a base drum, that the very reason that he could run at all, was due to the anti-shark suit that E made him put on. And that, that suit had just saved his leg … and his, life.

  E heard Ian’s cries and came running. Ian almost ran into E as he was running from the room all the while looking backwards over his shoulder in the direction of the ghoulish nurse who was moaning and making all manner of unearthly gurgling and grunting sounds, as she shambled towards him dragging one foot behind. A foot that was poised facing the complete opposite direction of normal physical limitation. Thankfully to Ian, her pace was severely impaired by her obviously compound fractured, limply flopping ankle. Ian couldn’t believe any living being who must be in excruciating pain, could even attempt to walk under those circumstances, whether cannibalistically motivated or otherwise.

  In shock and out of breath, Ian tried to speak but no words came out as he stared into E’s dark glasses. The woman was around thirty feet from them and closing faster than Ian would have thought possible for anyone in her condition. He was astonished that as physically disabled as she so vividly was, she was still so fiercely determined beyond the scope of his understanding. Hell bent on devouring their flesh and blood, like a barracuda in a feeding frenzy.

  Without saying a word E pushed Ian aside and rushed towards the woman gun leveled at her head. E then lowered his gun and with expert marksmanship rapid fired three consecutive rounds into the right side of her chest. The women reeled backwards from the impact and nearly spun around ninety degrees as she slammed into the wall of the corridor. But, then after what E determined to be less than six seconds the woman seemed to somehow collect herself. She turned back around towards E and without hesitation even though now worse for wear, she began again heading towards her would-be next meal. E then fired two more shots this time intentionally just to the left side of the chest. The effect was different. She immediately fell to the ground, yet still animated. E then walked up next to her and fired one shot point blank into her head which instantly ended all movement, as her blood and brains exited what was left of her blood soaked, long blonde hair covered fragmented skull.