by Jack Wallen
I nodded, and promised her the communications were not false.
“What are you going to do?” Bethany pushed the action forward.
“I am going to release you and then we’re going to free Jean and Michelle. Once that’s done we will find our way out, locate your collaborators, and leave this miserable place behind.” My plan, at least in theory, was simple.
Bethany did not reply. In fact, she didn’t so much as move, or blink, or breathe. Honestly, I was afraid it was the calm before a storm I couldn’t stand to weather.
“And then what?”
I wasn’t sure what to say. Bethany’s question certainly eased a great deal of tension in the room. The look in her eyes, however, still conveyed a horrible sense of urgency and anger.
“And then…” My next statement came from a place I had no idea I even owned, a place of ignorant ideals and overly implausible dreams. “And then we save the world.”
I actually expected her to laugh or swing out and slap the ignorance off my face. Neither happened. What did happen, took me by surprise.
“Let’s go,” was all Bethany needed to say.
I released Bethany’s bonds and helped her out of the bed. Her legs were slightly wobbly at first, but she quickly adjusted to being vertical again.
“I have to warn you – ” There were other bits of information that had to be relayed before we continued on. The very last thing Bethany needed was surprises regarding her friends. As soon as I spoke those five words Bethany tensed up and turned, as if to kill me.
“What?”
There was venom in the word, a venom that would certainly do me in.
This was the moment I had dreaded. If Bethany had a single reason to drop kick the color from my hair it would be now. But nothing could be held back. Trust would only come along riding on the coat tails of truth.
“Michelle has been impregnated and Jean has been infected.”
Bethany seemed to grow just a little larger, meaner, stronger.
“Before you kill me, let me explain!” I screamed out, desperate for the means to keep the woman on my side. “I had to do everything I could to make sure I could continue my research unobstructed. If they knew what was really happening in my labs, they would have killed me without remorse.”
I explained to Bethany that both Jean and Michelle were free and could travel with us. My patient relaxed, seemed to ease back into the mode of trust. I could tell, however, that she only gave me a reprieve until we safely exited the building. Who really knew what would happen once we were outside.
It was a risk I had to take.
“We don’t have much time. If you want to make it out of here alive, we have to go now.” I prompted Bethany to follow me.
She did nothing but glare.
“Listen to me Bethany, you and I share the same goal and the only way we will ever succeed in reaching that goal is if we work together. I have the cure. We can survive. We can save the human race.”
The distant screech of one of the undead punctuated my point. It was followed by a crash and then the strained screams of a human female.
God, this is not what Lindsay and I had wanted. We had envisioned completing the Heizer Sequence, curing the world of its plagues and diseases and finally retiring together on some deserted island – alone and at peace. Little did we know corporate greed and a racial grudge would rip the world asunder. Now Godwin was dead, an apocalypse had befallen the Earth, and the Heizer Sequence became the last hope for curing mankind of zombism.
“Fine. I’ll go with you. But understand I am watching you, every step of the way. You make one wrong move and I won’t hesitate to slit your throat.” Bethany threatened me in painful counterpoint to her gently closing the the laptop and followed up by turning to me with a look that slowly began to ease away from hatred.
“How do you know Sam is here?” Bethany’s curiosity finally got the best of her. I’d been waiting for that moment. Curiosity was powerful catnip for the hacker kitty.
“I’ve been monitoring him, privately, for a while now. He’s not in the building, but, rather in a car outside of the neighboring building. He sent in four others to retrieve you, Jean, Michelle, and for some reason the head Board member John Burgess. Sam is either planning to torture Burgess or hand him over to a collection of environmental terrorists.”
“You mean another collection of environmental terrorists.” Bethany’s glare found a new level of serious and her meaning was clear.
“I’ll explain everything to you later, I promise. Come on, we have to get the others.” I opened the door for Bethany who carefully stepped into the hall. The sounds of war seemed to be coming from every direction.
“I won’t let this go. Sooner or later you are going to tell me everything. There are gaps in mine and Jacob’s stories that need to be filled in.” Bethany was twitching with each crash and scream.
I promised the woman I’d divulge all. I meant it. Full disclosure. Once I got safely beyond the walls of the building, with cure in hand, I would no longer consider myself beholden to The ZDC in any way. I was single-minded in purpose now. The Heizer Sequence would serve its original purpose and no other. I would make good on the promise I made to Lindsay and our work would not have been in vain. I still would save mankind.
“In here.” I led Bethany to the door of Jean’s room. There was the slightest hesitation before I opened the door. Could Jean have, against the will of the sequenced cure injected into him, amplified? All I could do was hope for the best. But there was no doubt in my mind, should we walk into a room with Zombie Jean struggling to free himself from his shackles, Bethany would rip me asunder.
The door swung open and Jean was trying his best to sit up. He was still very much human, as was apparent by the tears that instantly sprang from his eyes the moment Bethany came into view.
“Oh my God. I cannot believe – ” Jean started to speak.
“Hush. Everything is going to be okay Jean. We’re getting out of here.” Bethany gently stroked the doctor’s cheek as she attempted to undo his bindings with one hand. I stepped in to help so she could continue to administer some much-needed affection.
“What’s happening?” Jean asked as the revolting sound of a human meeting its demise by the hand of a Screamer echoed through the halls.
“Sam brought the cavalry,” Bethany started, but was interrupted by another scream.
“You mean the undead cavalry,” Jean joked before he was helped out of bed, only to offer up a hate-filled glare my way.
I deserved it. Every glare, every spat curse, every angry whisper and scream. What I had done was unforgivable. Hopefully, what I would do would change all of that.
“Why is she here?”
“It’s a long story, Jean, one we don’t have time to tell. We have to go.” Bethany urged her friend on. “You trust me, right Jean?”
“Implicitly.”
“Then let’s go.”
Finally we managed to get out of the room. Jean wasn’t quite as stable on his feet as was Bethany. Seeing as how the man had just come down from amplification, his lack of strength and dexterity was understandable.
The roar of a screamer ripped through the air. One of the beasts had managed to get onto our floor.
“Fuck. Do you have any weapons?” Bethany demanded.
At least I did manage to pack along the gun I’d used to kill my colleague. How much ammunition the weapon contained I didn’t know. Without hesitation I handed Bethany our only chance to make it off of the floor alive. She handled the gun as if she were born with it in her hand.
The apocalypse had taught us all to do things we never thought we’d do. I shuddered to think what would be next.
Bethany passed Jean over to me. The man wrapped his arm over my shoulders and placed much of his weight on me. When Bethany motioned for us to stay where we were, I helped the wavering man over to a wall where we could both lean and remain upright longer.
That is, should we surv
ive the inevitable onslaught.
“We’ll make it. So long as Bethany is with us – everything will be fine.” Jean must have read my mind as he softly whispered words intended to bolster my confidence in our chances.
The scream grew louder, fiercer. I couldn’t believe we were standing there, waiting for the beast to just hunt us down. Why did we not hide – lock ourselves in some isolated ward until the horde had picked and clawed away every living brain in the building but ours and moved on?
The scream began to reverberate inside my skull. The sound was one I would never forget – like a hundred nails dragging across a chalkboard and amplified with distortion and reverb. Radiohead fueled by pure rage. The sound had accosted my ears so many times before, but only within the sacred and safe confines of the lab where these things could be more easily contained. This was different, this was real life and in real life, if you died you were dead.
Or worse.
As the Screamer’s battle cry reached its loudest, time froze. The sound became a constant, fuzzy tone and when the zombie finally came into view it seemed as if it were running in slow motion. The closer the beast came, the slower everything became.
I waited for the very moment when all stopped.
Crack.
Bethany pulled the trigger and, for a brief moment, time did stop. The bullet from the gun seemed to hover in the air space between us and the zombie. Hollywood had finally made the zombie movie come to life.
When the lone bullet struck home, it did so right in the forehead. The beast went down, silent, unmoving. I wanted to rush over and, in a twisted sense of irony, start cracking the thing’s head on the ground until its ruined brain spilled out onto the floor of the hall.
“Michelle? Where’s Michelle?” Bethany demanded.
While I continued to aid Jean, I led us to Michelle’s room. As soon as we entered, and Michelle spotted me, she let loose a scream to shame the zombie nation.
“Michelle, it’s okay. It’s me… Bethany.” Bethany did her best to soothe the girl’s inner beast.
It wasn’t until both Bethany and Jean were at Michelle’s side that the girl’s fears eased up. I knew, the second Michelle informed Bethany of what I had done a renewed rage would fuel the fire of Bethany’s mistrust for me.
I began to fear I wasn’t going to make it out of this situation alive.
“You fucking bitch!” Bethany turned and slapped me. I had no choice but to take the punishment. After everything I had done to these people, the least I could do was take a little abuse.
I did have a secret weapon in my back pocket.
“She’s not really pregnant!” I finally confessed.
There really wasn’t time for a full-blown confessional here, but they should know the skeleton of the truth.
“Michelle is not pregnant. And although I did infect Jean, I did so knowing I had perfected the cure. I lied to you about Michelle so The Board of the ZDC would hear and believe I was doing everything they expected. Had I not, we wouldn’t have the cure, and they would have won.”
“How do we know we can trust you?” Jean asked.
“You don’t. You can’t really trust anything or anyone now. But you can at least trust that I am not willing to hand over the world’s soul to corporate corruption. I want to live and to do that I need your help.” My words were honest. I could only hope those words would have some positive effect on my current audience.
A sigh seemed to be released from the group, after which I could see the doubt on their faces slowly ease away. Either they realized how desperate the situation was and knew I would be their only means to safety, or they just chose to believe. Either way, it was time for us to continue on.
Chapter 29
Outside of the U.N. Building
December, 2015
“Tenth floor Sam. We should arrive there any moment.” Sellers’s voice was shockingly loud over the radio.
Sam knew he had another big decision to make. After the team located Bethany, should he split them up, in order to get Bethany top-side as quickly as possible? Or would it make more sense to keep them together so they located and secured Burgess before making their grand escape? Leamy knew keeping them together held the risk of Bethany meeting her demise at the mouths of the undead. Taking them out too soon, leaving behind the one target that could save his own ass, left the team without a leader.
Six of one…
“Sellers, you got a bead on the location of Burgess?” the commander asked.
“Affirmative. He’s on the eleventh floor. Bethany is on the ninth. What are our orders?” Sellers, all business, a machine of grace and destruction.
The location of Burgess and Bethany made the decision simple. Since Bethany’s floor was closer to the oncoming onslaught, it was critical to extract her, Jean, and Michelle first. The team could then split up with Sellers and Dom guiding the three survivors to the relative safety of the roof while Dirt Bag and Ronald made a stop on the eleventh floor to convince the fat man he had no choice but to exit the building.
The commander sent the orders and added a ‘situation gray’ to the scenario. To the team of rogue soldiers, ‘situation gray’ meant one thing – there was no gray area. Either the civilians were with them or against them, and anyone against them would find themselves with a bullet in the heart.
Or the head – depending upon the evolutionary state of the target.
Sellers, for one, lived for ‘situation gray’ and knew she was going to miss out on the fun that would occur on the eleventh floor. She made Sam promise he’d make it up to her somehow.
The order was given and all Sam could do was sit back and wait to see if any other leadership was necessary. Or so he thought.
Although the majority of the local zombie contingency was busy chasing down their next meal in the adjacent building, there were a few clueless stragglers only just getting the memo of the grand buffet. Unfortunately, for Sam, some of those wandering, wondering meat sacks found their way to his location.
The idea of a little target practice was appealing, but Sam knew the noise would only serve to draw much unwanted attention.
“Just how many ways are there to skin a zombie?” Commander Leamy asked of the universe.
The universe did not reply.
Sam didn’t give a fuck what the universe had to say anyway. Instead he popped the trunk, got out of the car, went to the back, and pulled out something a little extra special he had packed for such a situation.
Said extra special something was a prototype miniature flamethrower capable of crisping an entire pack of moaners within seconds, from a distance, to guarantee not one target got up close and personal enough to nosh on your noggin.
“Come on guys, can’t we just talk this out? Seriously. I didn’t know they were your wives.” Sam tossed out a little humor to pass the time until the shambling army of undead was within roasting range.
“You never listen. I talk and talk, and it seems like you’re in your own little world. Oh well. I guess you deserve to burn in Hell.”
And with that, Sam opened fire on the gang of zombies who lit up like walking Halloween candles. The fat beneath their skin quickly bubbled and melted away. The moaners took a few more steps toward Sam and then dropped. By the time they hit their knees, their eyes popped out of the orbits with a hiss. When the monster’s skulls hit the sidewalk they exploded like rotten watermelons. Gore and the usual thick, brownish blood spilled over the cement as the fire slowly burned out with no more meat to cook.
The smell had the exact opposite of the expected results – it made Sam hungry. He wanted barbeque.
“I’d pull out a rib and start gnawing if I didn’t think I’d get seriously sick,” Sam threatened before replacing the flamethrower in the trunk. As much fun as a zombie roast was, he had to be within hearing distance of the radio at all times.
“What’s the SITREP?” he called out to Sellers, afraid he might have missed something.
“Almost r
eady to breach the ninth floor,” Sellers replied.
Sam knew the waiting game was going to be a son of a bitch. He should be in the building, leading his team through the maze of shit. Instead, he was stuck in the role of designated driver in a getaway car, attempting to give as much guidance as possible.
The situation reminded him of when he was originally dropped into Paris and told to wait for a possible living hostile to show. The waiting had been an exercise in anger management. After a few days Sam had become so itchy for action he feared he would start shooting shadows. When the zombies appeared, the soldier had been elated to have moving targets – even if the targets were nothing more than bumbling, stumbling Moaners. In the end, it mattered little how fast or slow they moved, so long as there was meat to drop.
Of course, when Bethany announced their arrival at Sam’s house, everything was turned on its proverbial head. Being career military, Sam was unaccustomed to asking questions. So when Bethany began dropping truth-bomb after truth-bomb, the commander’s eyes opened quite wide. The purpose he thought he served turned out to be a lie. Even though he swore to accept and execute all orders without question, he had taken that oath when it was clear who the good and bad guys were. Now, the only sure thing was chaos.
Lost in his past, Sam was unaware of the lone Moaner reaching into the car for the only living brain matter in the vicinity. The thing wrapped its rotten, cold fingers around the man’s head and jerked him out of his seat. The muscles in Sam’s neck involuntarily tensed up – saving him from either a broken neck or an epic case of whiplash.
With the flamethrower tucked out of reach, Sam had only his hands and feet to defend himself and, ultimately, take down this latest annoyance.
Crack.
Sam’s head slammed against the pavement.
“You son of a – ”
Crack.
Sam kicked up with his legs, barely missing the neck of the moaner.
Crack.
Stars punctuated the action of his head smacking against the pavement.
The sour-milk eyes looked down upon its next meal to be. Nothing registered within the soiled orbits – it was a haunting vision Sam would never forget. It was also a vision that gave Sam an idea. With his right hand Sam violently poked upwards, two fingers, in his best Three Stooges salute. Each finger violated an eyeball, popping through the sockets and into the gray matter of the monster. Yanking downward with all of the strength he could muster, he managed to pull free the front section of the beast’s skull. Bits of flesh and bone rained down on Sam’s face, slopping his forehead and hair with gore.