Serial Killer Z: Shadows

by Philip Harris

  “You seem very sure.”

  “I’ve known him a long time.” Sorrow filled Cali’s voice. “Since I was eighteen. Over half my life.”

  She stared at the floor for a while then took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about him.” She smiled. “Let’s talk about us.”

  “Us?”

  “Yes, we’re going to bring it back. Your shadow.” Cali held up a finger. “Now, before you say it’s not going to work, hear me out. How long have you been killing?”

  “Since I was fourteen.”

  She almost managed to hide her surprise.

  “You killed someone when you were fourteen?”

  “Yeah, a kid called Curtis Mack. He was… a bully.”

  She swallowed. “Okay, well, your shadow has been part of you for that long. It can’t have just disappeared.”

  “It has. When Jon stole my tools, he took that part of me, too.”

  Dull anger prickled at the back of my mind. There he was again. Jon.

  “I don’t think that’s true,” Cali said. “If it was, it would mean you’re ordinary. People like us don’t just turn into normal people overnight. We don’t ever turn into normal people. Killing is in your genes, Marcus. It’s instinctive. You can no more lose your desire to kill than a tiger can lose the desire to hunt.”

  I didn’t respond, but I looked away from her at the machete resting on the coffee table. There was a smudge of black blood on the glass, near the handle.

  “Do you still have the scalpels?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get them out.”

  I pulled the leather case from my pocket and rested it on my lap.

  “Open it.”

  I unclipped the catch and slowly raised the lid. The four scalpels lay there, still nestled in dark velvet. The blades shone under the apartment’s LED lighting. I touched the first scalpel. It was the one I’d used for that first kill.

  Curtis had jumped me on the path beside the river near my home. He’d punched me, knocked me to the ground, kicked me. It wasn’t the first time, and I’d been prepared. I’d had that scalpel with me, sewn into the sleeve of my jacket.

  As Curtis bent to push me into the river, I ripped the scalpel free and swung it at his throat. The blade sliced across his cheek. He grabbed his face, screaming in agony. I could still see the blood trickling from beneath his fingers.

  He turned to run, but he was too slow. I kicked out, catching his ankle with my foot. He tripped. I leaped onto his back and drove the scalpel into the side of his neck. He was dead within seconds. I waited until the blood had stopped pumping from the wound, weighed his body down with a couple of chunks of concrete I found nearby, and rolled him into the river. As far as I knew, he was still there when the zombie outbreak began.

  I pulled the scalpel from the case and weighed it in my hand. At first it felt awkward, out of place, but as the seconds passed so did that feeling of wrongness.

  Cali watched me eagerly. Was she right? Was the shadow still there, just waiting for me to find the key to set it free? The dull ache of its loss hadn’t faded. If anything, it had grown stronger.

  “Kill with me,” Cali said.

  I looked up at her.

  She smiled. “You can choose the victim.”

  One name sprang immediately to mind: Faraday.

  He was certainly guilty. I’d seen the way he acted in the camp, and that was just the things he was prepared to show the world. Who knew what he did to the women he took to his apartment? He was the perfect choice.

  Cali must have seen my thoughts in my face because her lips curved into a slight smile.

  If there was a way to bring back the shadow and restore my former self, Faraday was it. But should I? I’d always been aware of what I really was: evil. With the shadow gone, I was just a normal person. I should embrace this new, less-murderous identity, contribute to the new world order and help resurrect the human race.

  I raised the scalpel. Light flashed off the blade. A familiar anticipation ran down my spine then was gone.

  “Subjects,” I said.

  “What?”

  “That’s what I call them. Subjects.”

  Chapter 37

  Reunited

  Ten minutes later, we were in the car. That first scalpel was in my pocket, heavy with the weight of expectation I was putting on it. This kill would bring the shadow back; it had to.

  Cali had put her own equipment in the trunk: a canvas bag containing a knife, duct tape, garbage bags, and a box of plastic zip ties. She’d changed into cargo pants and a tight-fitting jacket, both black. The car’s tires hissed as we sped down rain-soaked streets. I reached into my pocket and wrapped my fingers around the scalpel. The steel was cold against my skin.

  “How are you going to do it?” Cali said.

  The question caught me off guard, and I didn’t grasp her meaning. I blinked at her. “Sorry?”

  She smiled. “Faraday. How are you going to kill him?”

  I hadn’t thought about it. In the past, I’d spent weeks planning my kills. At least when it came to living subjects. This was new territory for me. I hadn’t even thought how to get into the apartment.

  “I—I don’t know,” I said. “Does he have security at his building?”

  Cali eased off the accelerator and swung left onto a side street. The car cut through a puddle and briefly hydroplaned, then the tires bit into asphalt again.

  “I don’t know, but if he does, I can take care of them.”

  I didn’t ask her how exactly she was planning on doing that. It occurred to me that I might not have a lot of options when it came to killing Faraday. He wasn’t exactly going to just hold still while we tied him up. In the past, I’d used anesthetic from the lab.

  “I don’t suppose you have any etorphine?”

  Cali gave me a sideways glance. “No, I don’t. Is that what you use?”

  “Before the outbreak, yes.” More recently, I’d used a snare to get control of the dead, but that wasn’t an option. I’d have to rely on surprise and brute force.

  Cali slowed the car and pulled into a narrow alley between two apartment buildings. “Faraday’s place is down the block.”

  We got out of the car. Cali retrieved the bag and an umbrella, and we walked down the street, arm in arm. Despite her burglar-chic attire, she walked with style and poise, as though she was a world-famous actress out for a night on the town.

  The rain must have been keeping the city’s inhabitants off the streets because we didn’t see anyone until we got close to Faraday’s apartment. A man stood in the shadows outside the building across the street. I was formulating a plan to distract him when I realized it was Ryan.

  I slowed, trying to decide on the best approach. Then he saw us. His eyes widened in surprise. Cali clenched my arm.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Ryan? What are you doing here?”

  “Sara,” he said simply.

  Cali looked at me, eyebrows raised.

  “Ryan and Sara were picked up by the same helicopter as me. Faraday took her away.”

  Cali’s eyes hardened.

  “You think she’s still here?” I said.

  “Yes. Jefferson heard Faraday talking about her. He’s the one that got me out of the camp.” He clenched his fists, barely contained rage bubbling beneath the surface. “Faraday is out of control, and there’s a rumor that there are hundreds of zombies heading our way from Seattle. So, Jefferson was helping people get out of the city.”

  “Was?”

  “Faraday found out.”

  He didn’t need to elaborate.

  “And you’ve come here to get your fiancée before you leave, too?” Cali said.

  Ryan nodded.

  “So… why were you standing outside?”

  Ryan gave Cali a cold look and tilted his head toward Faraday’s building. A bulky-looking security guard sat behind a counter in the lobby. He was reading a paper and not really paying attention, but there was no way we
’d be able to just stroll past him.

  “Ah,” Cali said.

  “What are you doing here?” Ryan said.

  “Pretty much the same thing as you,” Cali said.

  Ryan gave me a surprised look. I nodded. “We can go after him together,” he said.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Cali cut me off. “Only if you do exactly what we say. This is Marcus’s kill.”

  Ryan hesitated, then said, “Okay.”

  I glared at Cali, but she smiled back. “The more people we have to deal with Faraday’s goons, the better.”

  I bit back an angry response. “What are we going to do about goon number one?”

  Cali looked at the guard behind the desk, then said, “Give me a minute.”

  She hurried across the street and into Faraday’s building. The guard stood as soon as she entered, but he didn’t seem hostile. Cali leaned against the counter, talking to him, for several minutes. Then he nodded and pointed at the desk. She went around the counter and stood behind him, leaning forward to examine something. Then she grabbed the man by the back of the head and slammed his face into the desk twice. He slumped sideways and disappeared out of view.

  Ryan’s jaw dropped.

  “Come on,” I said.

  “She…”

  “Yes, now do you want in on this or not?”

  His face grew cold. “I’m in.”

  We joined Cali in the lobby. The guard was lying on the floor. His face was a bloody mess, and his nose was well and truly broken, but I could see him breathing. I ran my finger over the scalpel in my pocket, but Cali called me over to the elevator before I could act.

  “Faraday’s apartment is on the top floor,” Ryan said.

  I hit the call button.

  The elevator was near the top of the building but already descending rapidly. Ryan let out a slow breath. I glanced at Cali, still angry at her for letting Ryan join us. She was staring at the numbers above the elevator, her lips curved into a slight smile.

  We waited in silence until the doors opened. I started to move into the elevator, but two guards in black uniforms and body armor stepped out, with Faraday close behind. The guards reached for their handguns. Cali dived toward the nearest one. He was taller than her and must have weighed twice as much, but she drove him back against the wall. She grabbed his hand and twisted. His gun clattered to the floor.

  I went for the second guard. I drove my elbow into his face. His nose burst apart under the blow. He screamed in pain, grabbed his face and staggered backward. I pressed home my advantage by kneeing him between the legs. He crumpled and collapsed to the floor.

  Faraday’s face twisted in rage. “Black, you son of a—”

  Ryan punched him in the jaw. It wasn’t a hard blow, but Faraday recoiled, blinking in shock. Ryan grabbed him by the throat and squeezed.

  For a couple of seconds, it looked like Ryan had the upper hand. Faraday’s face was already beginning to turn red and his eyes were bulging. Then Faraday swung his arms up and knocked Ryan’s arms away. He punched Ryan in the gut. Ryan folded forward, exposing his neck. Faraday clasped his hands together and slammed them into the back of Ryan’s head. Ryan grunted and fell forward.

  Cali was losing her fight, too. She was pinned against the wall, struggling to break free of the guard’s grip, but he was too strong.

  Faraday kicked Ryan in the ribs, then stepped over the fallen man toward me. His eyes flared, but there was excitement in them, not anger or fear. He took three paces toward me. I pulled the scalpel from my pocket and swept it toward his face. He saw it coming and leaned back but not far enough. The blade slashed across his chin. He hissed and pressed his hand against the cut. It came away smeared with blood, but the wound was shallow.

  I slashed the air with the scalpel again. I was too far away from Faraday to hurt him, but I needed to buy myself some time. Ryan was lying on the floor, groaning. Cali was still struggling with the other guard.

  I was on my own.

  Faraday wiped his hand on his pants. His mouth turned up into a grin. “Now this is finally getting interesting.”

  Cali let out a cry, and I saw her go down onto one knee, clutching her side. The man she’d been fighting drew his leg back to kick her.

  Anger coursed through me, but I couldn’t see a way to help Cali without going through Faraday. The guard I’d taken down was beginning to recover, too. He looked up at me, eyes blazing with anger.

  Faraday jerked toward me. I swung the scalpel, but it was just a feint. He stepped back then faked another lunge, to the other side this time. I responded by jabbing the scalpel toward his face. He flinched back, out of reach. Still smiling, he slipped out of his jacket and wrapped it around his right arm.

  The guard attacking Cali kicked her in the ribs, but she shifted position at the last moment, catching his foot just as it hit her. The blow was still hard, but she trapped his ankle between her arm and her ribs. Grimacing in pain, she straightened up and drove her clenched fist into his throat. The guard grunted and staggered back. Cali twisted his foot. He fell, gasping for air.

  Faraday came at me. He led with the arm he’d wrapped with the jacket. I slashed at him, but I was too slow. He blocked the attack with his forearm then reversed direction and grabbed my wrist.

  I tensed, ready to resist the twisting motion I knew was coming. He kicked me in the side of the knee instead. Pain tore up my leg. It crumpled inward, and I almost collapsed. Faraday drove his fist into the side of my face. Stars burst across my vision. Then he finally did twist my arm. I was helpless to resist. Screaming in pain, I dropped the scalpel, and it clattered against the tile floor.

  Faraday shoved me back. I fell to my knees. He loomed over me, a smug look on his face. He unwrapped the jacket from his arm and threw it aside.

  “You know, I’m going to—”

  He didn’t get to finish gloating.

  Cali slid a syringe into his neck and pressed the plunger. Faraday swung an elbow at her, but she was already out of the way. He turned toward her, fists swinging wildly. His legs buckled. He grabbed his throat and ripped the syringe out. Thin black lines were already spreading across his neck. He let out an animal snarl.

  “What the hell?” said the guard I’d taken down. He was watching Faraday, his eyes wide.

  “Get Ryan!” I said.

  I grabbed my scalpel, then caught Faraday around the neck and hauled him off balance. He reached around and tried to claw my face, but his movements were weak and easy to avoid. I dragged him into the elevator and slammed the heel of my hand against the top button.

  Cali got Ryan inside. His face was pale, and he looked like he was about to throw up, but he was conscious. I punched the close button half a dozen times before the second guard came after us. The doors slid closed.

  Chapter 38

  The Chained

  Faraday was unconscious by the time we got to his apartment. Ryan and I slipped our arms beneath his shoulders while Cali found his keys. The smell hit us as soon as she opened the apartment door. The air was heavy with the cloying stench of the rotting dead. We pulled back, expecting zombies to rush at us from the darkness. They didn’t.

  Carefully reaching inside the apartment, Cali flicked on the lights, revealing another penthouse even more luxurious than hers. There was still no sign of any zombies, but the smell of decay was definitely coming from inside.

  Ryan grew agitated. “What are we waiting for? Sara’s in there.”

  “Okay,” Cali said, “let’s get him inside and Marcus can do his thing.”

  The words sent a shiver of nervous excitement down my spine.

  Ryan winced as we dragged Faraday into the apartment. There were beads of perspiration scattered across his forehead, but his eyes were hard, determined. When Cali offered to take his place, he grunted his disapproval.

  As soon as we’d laid Faraday down on a sofa, Ryan called out, “Sara!”

  Cali put a hand on his shoulder. “Be quiet.”

>   Ryan started to protest, but she glared at him. “Listen.”

  A few seconds later, a quiet moan came from somewhere in the apartment. We stood in silence until the sound came again. Cali pointed toward a door on the opposite side of the room. Ryan’s face creased in concern, and he hurried to the door.

  “Wait!” Cali whispered.

  She opened her backpack and removed the machete Jon had given me. Ryan held out his hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, Cali gave it to him. The moaning came again, and this time it was joined by a second voice, then a third.

  Ryan steeled himself then shoved the door open and stepped back. Metal chains rattled and a chorus of groans rose up from the room beyond. The rot-filled air grew so thick, I could taste it. Ryan pressed the back of his hand against his mouth.

  The pale light that filtered into the room revealed five figures, all women, all chained with their arms above their heads to the far wall of what had once been a bedroom. The first figure was a badly-rotted, living corpse that did nothing more than twitch, but three of the others were less decayed and considerably more active. They leaned forward, straining against the chains holding them in place, snapping and snarling. One of them flung itself so violently at me that the manacles around its wrists bit into its flesh. Blood and muscle pattered onto the floor.

  Ryan stood in the doorway for several seconds, his face a horrified mask. Then he ran across the room toward the last in the line of horrors. “No, no, no!”

  One of the zombies lunged at him. Screaming, he slashed the machete into the side of its head. The zombie fell forward, dark blood pouring down its face. Ryan struggled with the blade then managed to yank it free. He reached the last of the women. She wasn’t moving, and she’d fallen forward so that her chin rested against her chest. The machete clattered to the floor. Gently, Ryan lifted the woman’s head. It took me a few seconds to realize it was Sara. She seemed much thinner, her eyes sunken. There was a bruise on the right side of her face, and her lips were split.