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

Home > Other > SCHIZOMEGA: Zombies Made in the U.S.A. (Ian McDermott Paranormal Investigator series Book 3) > Page 19
SCHIZOMEGA: Zombies Made in the U.S.A. (Ian McDermott Paranormal Investigator series Book 3) Page 19

by David Aslin


  “No. You did, you asked just fine.” E suddenly took on a very gentle nature as he continued, “Thanks for asking. You know, you’re the first person to ever ask me what name I want or like. If I had a magic wand that could make this all go away. If I could resume who I once was, or such like that. Well, you’d be calling me, Dan. Dan Huntington of the little tri-river community of, Kelso, Washington. Yep, I’d be back teaching martial arts, in particular dojo, TaeKwon-Do in that fine Highlander community where my last name means something around town. Yeah, where my name is not just a code word. Where I’m more than just an expendable tool used to get the job done. Back where I‘m anything…” E let out a sigh before completing his answer, “Back to a life where I can be anything at all other than just, E! How about you Ian?”

  Ian looked around the room and then over at Jamal before speaking. “Me? Since being with, uniting with my wife and daughter I this life anyway, since that’s not possible. Well, other than that. I’d do just about anything to see Zoey, even if it were for just one more, minute.”

  E didn’t say a word in response, he just smiled and slowly nodded his head that he understood. E turned towards Ian, paused as he gazed at the rapidly failing door. He then took a deep breath and spoke, “In this world there is much darkness, some light, and many more than fifty shades of gray. But beyond this door, Ian, that and its creators, that’s just blackness. And it must be exterminated or the light of the world will forever be extinguished.”

  Ian nodded his head in agreement as he mustered all the courage that he possessed before replying, “All right then, lets lock and load, and take as many of those hell-spawn zombie-oids with us as we can!”

  CHAPTER 25

  DOESN’T EVERYONE?

  “Ian, look up there. Do you see what I’m seeing?” E asked as he grabbed a chair, quickly positioned it beneath the object of his attention, and with a small leap, hopped up on it. “Oh the ventilation grid. I get what you’re thinking but, that’s not your ordinary... I mean it was made special for this place, top security and all. That things extra heavy duty steel not aluminum or whatever. And you can plainly see it’s fastened into place by those huge counter-sunk bolts that look like they’ve additionally been welded. It would take a cutting torch to even get it open or a special tool.” Ian said momentarily not considering who was about to take hold of the heavy steel grid.

  After taking hold of the ventilation grid E kicked away the chair he’d been standing on. He then began heaving himself with all of his strength and weight up and down with so much force that at one point Ian wondered if he was going to bring the entire roof down upon them. Dust fell on the three men from the vent and all of the rafters and suspended lights in the room. The vent was starting to bend at its center. Then with one last enormous effort followed by a thunderous yell from E, it gave way. E with the grid in hands landed on his feet with smile on his face. “You’ve got to have a little faith Ian.”

  Ian smiled. Also seeing what E had just accomplished Jamal stood to his feet. Realizing there was now real hope for escape.

  The door was getting critical. Its encompassing doorjambs were breaking loose. It was now just a matter of minutes or less before the door would come crashing down.

  Jamal had the presence of mind to run over to the gun locker and retrieved an assault rifle. He quickly loaded a mag, grabbed two more magazines and shoved them into his pockets… as well as long handled metal LED flashlight. Ian and E quickly followed Jamal’s lead, they both armed themselves to the fullest, and Ian snatched himself a flashlight as well, rather than retrieve their previous weapons that had flashlights taped to their muzzles. Ian mused while grabbing himself a new weapon from the closet, New before used, that’s what Dad always said.

  E re-positioned the chair back under the ventilation hole. It was then that Ian noticed for the first time that there was no way a man of E’s size was going to fit through the hole, or be able to crawl through the small duct work beyond.

  “That’s right Ian. I’ll be staying right here. Now you two get over here and I‘ll boost you up.” E said as he noticed Ian’s realization.

  “No. No man left behind. And that’s that. And besides isn’t that your special commandoes, that’s your credo, right?” Ian said as he shook his head in defiance.

  The door was now giving into the zombie’s incessant assault. Their fingers were not appearing in the gap of the bend-folding aluminum door.

  E dropped his assault rifle and motioned for Jamal to come to him as he stepped up onto the chair. “Jamal! Now!” E said commandingly. Jamal quickly did as instructed.

  E lifted Jamal up. Jamal with his assault rifle strap-slung over his shoulder took hold of the opening and quickly lifted himself up and into the ventilation duct.

  Jamal switched on his flashlight and began looking down the long ventilation tunnel. From his vantage point it appeared to have intersections every thirty feet or so.

  Jamal said out loud, “How we s’pose ta know what way ta go? Guess anywhere gots ta be better den here!”

  The aluminum door was almost folded in half, still barely hanging on by the deadbolt and two of its three door hinges; the middle of which was giving away fast. Their blood soaked and torn up hands were flailing about. They mashed their rotting heads together as they continued attempting to squeeze themselves through the door.

  “This is it Ian. It’s now or never. Look, I’m pretty sure I’m immune to their bites and it’s going to take more than what they’ve got to stop the likes of me. Especially now that I’ve got super-Ian blood in my veins. Now please, go and save yourself. There‘s only minutes left before this place blows sky high. And Ian, one more thing. I activated a distress call button just a few minutes ago. The Calvary is coming to finish cleaning up this Island. I can only assume that some of these dirty fuckers have gotten out and might be wandering about outside of the prison.”

  Teary eyed Ian spoke, “What Calvary?”

  E replied, “A special group of, well the council has a special group of, well you know. Salizzar used to lead them. Anyway, the community can’t have this hit the mainland, it could potentially destroy not only humanity, but them as well, no viable food source and all that.”

  “Why’d the council not send in their, very Special Forces right from the start? Why just you, I mean us?” Ian asked confused.

  “They had no idea this had gotten to this stage. That it was this bad. They assumed a small quieter potentially expendable way, was the best approach. Low profile and all that. Anyway, we were their plan A. What’s coming is plan B. And believe me, if you think these rotter’s are bad news, you don’t want to be here when the blood thirsty goon squad comes to clean this all up. Understand!”

  “So the enemy of my enemy, is still my enemy!” Ian said while shaking his head.

  “Exactly!” E replied.

  “E this whole thing has been way too coincidental. I mean, I told Clayton about my Schizomega zombie theory, my doctoral dissertation, and the next thing I know I’m in New Orleans and then here with you. That’s a little too convenient don’t you think?”

  “If you’re thinking that Clayton might have planted the entire idea in your mind. All I can tell you is, if he wanted to, if it would serve his purpose, he certainly could have. Hell, that Schizo-whatever theory you think is yours. The one your memory tells you, that you wrote your dissertation on? God only knows, Ian, if that even was yours, that you believe, your memory tells you that you wrote it. Well, that is, only God and Clayton knows. You still don’t even know the half of what he can do. His powers are beyond your feeble human imagination!”

  Ian just shook his head in confusion before realizing with sudden clarity that none of that mattered, not now. “Whatever. Now’s not the time, Jamal, I’m gonna hand my rifle up to ya, okay?” Ian said directly. He knew what was paramount at the moment for him, was to focus on doing whatever was necessary to survive the here and now.

  “Yeah man, but hurry you’re whit
e ass up!” Jamal said starting to panic regarding how long it was taking.

  Ian handed his gun up to Jamal. He then allowed E to give him a boost up. After climbing inside the ventilation duct Ian poked his head out to speak to E one last time.

  “E, please tell me you have yourself a plan C? ‘Cause not even you, you can’t possibly plow your way through that throng!” Heavy hearted Ian said with his voice cracking.

  E reached into his utility vest and retrieved a military hand-grenade, “Not plan, C … Ian. Plan, G.”

  “What? You’re going to? You’ve got a grenade?”

  “Doesn’t everybody?” E said with a cheeky grin on his face. “Now you get going so I can give this bunch what they’ve got coming. Get going or I swear I’ll shoot you right here and now!” E said as he un-holstered his pistol and pointed it at Ian’s head.

  “Okay I’ll go, but, maybe, someday, right?” Ian said now crying.

  E replied as he lowered his gun, “Perhaps my friend, in this life or the next!”

  CHAPTER 26

  RATS IN A MAZE

  Ian and Jamal weren’t fifty feet from where they’d entered into the ventilation shaft when it happened, a great big thump. One that as they crawled along in an instant nearly shook them off of their hands and knees.

  “Holy shit’n biscuits what was dat?” Jamal shouted.

  “That was plan G.” Ian said without further explanation.

  “Damn! Sound ta me like, agent man done blow’d himself and doz zombie shit heads ta fuck!”

  “Just keep going.” Ian said as he looked up at Jamal’s ass-end.

  “Okay you da boss, but where’n hell we head’n to?” Jamal said as he continued crawling forward past several duct-work intersections.

  “This seems to be the main way. If we’re lucky it might take us, hell Jamal, your guess is as good as mine. Only thing I’m certain of it’s gotta take us somewhere. And like you said. Any where’s got to be better than where we were.”

  “Dats for shore, cap’n.” Jamal said in agreement.

  “Is it get’n mighty hot in here, or what?” Jamal said as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “Hot? I was going to say the opposite. I think this is, the systems switched itself over onto air conditioning. Likely due to the humidity caused by the storm. I was going to say it’s getting colder. You feeling all right there, Jamal?” Ian said with some concern.

  “Nah, I mean I’z ah-right. Just feel’n a bit hot’n sick to my stomach. Fight’n zombies do it to me ev-ery-time.” Jamal said trying to force some levity.

  The two men continued to arduously crawl for what seemed city blocks forward into the main ventilation duct. “Yeah, I hear ya. Besides being cold, to tell you the truth I’m starting to get more than a little claustrophobic. Not to mention this is killing my knees and my back.”

  Jamal replied, “I hear dat. Dis crawl’n like a baby true all dis, it ain’t do’n da hands no favors need’er.”

  “Jamal, you’ve got a pretty thick southern accent. Where are you from, originally?” Ian said in an attempt to divert their attention from how uncomfortable they were.

  “I’z from juz outside a Baton Rouge. You know Baton Rouge?” Jamal said with a decided short winded sound to his voice.

  “Yes. Well, I’ve never been there. But I know where, I know of it.” Ian replied, he too was getting winded as they continued their hand and knee trek up the vent shaft.

  Jamal’s flash light’s illumination danced and bounced around the narrow steel tunnel as they continued making their way to they knew not where. But minutes later Jamal turned his head towards Ian.

  “I see light up there ahead. There be light shine’n in da place up ahead.” Jamal said excitedly.

  Giddily Jamal continued, “Dis cat’ll be glad ta get da hell off dis hot tin roof foe show! Fuck dis place man.”

  Ian didn’t reply. He was getting more than a little concerned about Jamal. Ian was beginning to shiver from the cold air that seemed to be blowing at them from ahead of their position.

  Jamal closed in on the source of the light. He could see through the grid. “Dis be da laundry. We directly over da middle of it. Ian, we over da laundry. But how we ever gonna open one of deez vents. We ain’t superman, like agent man.” Ian had been thinking on that very problem for some time.

  Ian caught up to Jamal, “I’ve got an idea. It’s going to be loud and dangerous and it could attract more zom’s, zombies. But I don’t think we’ve got any other option.”

  With difficulty Jamal managed to turn himself around and face Ian. When Jamal saw what Ian was about to do he instantly figured out Ian’s plan.

  Ian retrieved from his shoulder his assault rifle. He switched it to fully automatic then pointed it away from them, and as straight downwards as he could.

  Ian squeezed the trigger. He could barely hold onto the weapon in the angle that he had to hold it away from his body. But hold on he did. Ian blasted at the duct as near a circle as he could. Ian nearly emptied his mag before he was done. The noise in the confined space had been nearly deafening, and the shaft was full of smoke. But Ian’s plan had not been in vain, he managed to kick through the heavily blasted sheet steel ductwork and on through the insulation and ceiling tiles.

  “You’z done did it, white boy!” Jamal exclaimed with glee as he patted Ian on the shoulder.

  Ian smiled back at him as he coughed from all of the smoke and dust.

  Ian dropped his rifle through the hole into a large industrial rolling basket that was filled with laundry. He then began lowering himself through his created hole but the sidewall of the jagged hole gave way and Ian fell to the ground onto his back, instantly knocking the wind completely out of him.

  Jamal peered downward through the hole, “White boy. Ian, you’z okay?”

  Ian couldn’t speak but he managed to nod that he was at least alive.

  Jamal then tossed his rifle into the laundry hamper and with much better luck swung himself down and dropped down onto the tile floor with relative ease.

  “Damn white boy. You ain’t got da skills agent man has, ‘er, had.”

  Ian managed to get his wind back before replying. “As I’m sure you know, there aren’t many like E.”

  Jamal interjected, “I figured what he is. Government done made ‘em. Fed ‘em roid’s an shit. Turned ‘em to a Ninja-fied super-freak. Made ‘em a real life Rambo mudda-fuck’a. Am I right?”

  Ian smiled, “Yeah, you’ve got that right. He was part of a top secret government Super-soldier program. That’s E all right. An army of one. E, the mystery man.”

  Jamal coughed before interjecting, “As in da, Mister-E-Man.”

  Ian smiled as he climbed back onto his feet. “You’ve got it all figured out, Jamal.”

  “Maybe dem scientists in dis place. Maybe they try’n ta make more E’s, an’ it all went ta shit. You two sent here to make shit right.”

  “Like I said, Jamal, you’ve got it all figured out.” Ian replied as he stood dusting himself off.

  Ian continued, “We should get out of here and quick. If there’s any of those sub-human creatures around here, and I have to assume there is, they certainly heard all the gun fire.”

  Jamal nodded his head in agreement. Both men retrieved their weapons from the laundry bin and proceeded to the exit doorway. Once again they were in a one way in, one way out room.

  “Jamal. I’m guessing we are in the least secure area of the place. Typically prisons only allow trustees to work in the laundry. Of course I’m just going by assumption and what I’ve seen in movies. You work here. Are you familiar with where we are?”

  “Shit man. I’z only ever worked in one area of dis place. Dis be a huge place man. But I hear’d dat da laundry be near da supply ship’n docks. So you juz might be right. We may-haps be cloz ta get’n da fuck out’a…” Looking directly at Jamal, suddenly Ian placed his right index finger to his lips. Clearly indicating to Jamal for him to be quiet. Jamal instantly
picked up on Ian’s signal and rifle in hand readied himself for the worst.

  Both men were beyond relieved when the noise and motion that Ian had noticed was just a couple of rats climbing out from under a tabled pile of dirty laundry.

  “Shit man.” Is all that Jamal could say as he let out a deep sigh of relief.

  Both men nervously smiled and shook their heads as Ian rolled his eyes and let out a large sigh of his own.

  Jamal suddenly bent over holding his stomach.

  “Jamal, you okay?” Ian asked as he approached him.

  Jamal slowly looked up, his eyes appeared to be swirling amorphously, filled with garnet and yellow fluid.

  “Ah shit, white boy. Guess day bit ma leg harder’n I wanted ta b’lieve. I never took a look-see. Did’nt want ta know.” Suddenly the red and yellow swirling fluid in his eyes as if suddenly they’d become fully mixed, became all one color, ripe tomato red. Jamal began snorting and chomping down on his teeth like a horse working a bit. Drool dribbled down over his chin. “Hey, white boy, I don’t feel so good.” Jamal put the barrel of his gun under his chin. Ian was stunned beyond reaction as he watched Jamal turning into one of those creatures before his eyes. “I gots ta say… you start’n ta look kinda tasty. Like prime rib. Prime, white boy! Why, if it weren’t ‘gainst my momma’s good upbring’n, I gots ta say, I’d be haven me some a dat white meat right soon like” Those were the last words Jamal ever spoke. The blast from his rifle sent his brains splattering across the wall and ceiling.

  It had all happened too fast. Ian didn’t even let out a yell, the entire thing was just too surreal. Once again Ian began gagging followed by dry heaves. After a few moments he managed to collect himself, he wiped the spittle away from his mouth and then took a deep breath as he looked at a clock on the wall. Ian noted there was just minutes remaining before the entire place was going to come tumbling and crumbling down from E’s explosives.

 

‹ Prev