I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  I’d heard all I needed. Besides, the DJ had me at “cure.” Not that I was one hundred percent sold. We’d all traveled that road once, only to find it a dead end. But I wasn’t going to floss the teeth of this gift horse.

  “You do realize”—Jamal pulled me out of my fugue—“if you meet this guy, you can’t neglect the idea that it could be a setup.”

  “I’ve already thought that through. This Gerand business could just as easily be the ZDC luring me into a trap. If the meetup happens, I’ll have you with me.”

  “Damn straight you will.”

  I loved it when Jamal spoke tough. Not that he did it often…or well…but it was nice to see him ready to fight for me.

  “Help…”

  The cry echoed off the surrounding buildings. Everyone in the group stopped what they were doing and stared at one another…waiting as a dreadful silence took over. It took mere seconds for the void of sound to be replaced by another, harsher cry. My first thought was “Not again.” We couldn’t afford yet another distraction from our destination.

  “Help me, please!”

  Jamal stepped away from the truck and slowly pitched his head to the left and then the right. He was waiting for another plea so he could triangulate the location. Morgan took a step toward Jamal. I put a hand on her arm and when she looked back at me I shook my head in a warning.

  The silence was once again rudely interrupted by a sound—only this time, the sound was a hellborn screech. The noise sent shivers rushing across my flesh.

  “Screamers,” I whispered.

  “Lock and load, everyone.” Joshua barked out the order as he turned and made his way to the back of the Hummer. “These sons of bitches come fast and hard. Morgan—”

  “I’m on it.” Morgan knew the drill and climbed to the top of the Hummer as if it were her own personal playground. The large-caliber machine gun swung around and pointed in the direction of the screams.

  Jamal noticed Morgan’s rough aim and shook his head. “No, over there.” His arm pointed almost forty-five degrees from where the sound seemed to originate.

  “No, it came from there,” Morgan argued.

  “Trust me,” was all Jamal had to say. Morgan swung her aim to match Jamal’s arm and glanced my way. When I nodded, Morgan relaxed and steadied herself for a fight.

  Josh handed out rifles to anyone ready and willing to take aim. That left out both Echo and Jamal. I was good with that. Before I could offer up a command to my cohorts in crime, Echo was bounding off toward the nearest building, her bow in hand.

  “Ech—” I started to shout after her, but cut myself off when Josh placed a death grip on my arm.

  The screech of the Screamer tore through the silence again. This time, the maddening roar was followed by the arrival of a single woman. As soon as she rushed into view, she raced across an empty parking lot and, in perfect synchrony with every formulaic horror movie on the planet, she tripped and landed face down. With near-perfect timing, the Screamer appeared on the stage—every gun in the group was raised and took aim. The Screamer stopped and roared its approval at the fresh meat.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” The woman sat up and raised her own cry to the heavens.

  “She’s losing it.” Morgan whispered from above. “Josh, you have a clean shot?”

  Josh offered the slightest nod of his head. He sucked in a deep breath.

  “Take it,” whispered Morgan.

  As Josh fired off the round, the zombie went apeshit and launched itself at the woman. She didn’t stand a chance. The monster had her head in its hands and began bashing it on the pavement. Once. Twice. Three times. The lady didn’t stand a chance. Before either Josh or Morgan could fire another volley, a familiar “thwunk” was heard, and an arrow appeared in the back of the zombie’s skull. The beast reached back to grab the arrow, but it was too late. The arrowhead had pierced the zombie’s spinal cord.

  The Screamer went down.

  The only sound was the sobbing of the woman. She finally looked our way and offered a grateful smile. As the woman stood, another breath-stealing roar crashed through the area—followed by a second, and a third, and a fourth. The final count was impossible through the flood of bile and fear that rushed my system. I turned to Jamal—he slowly shook his head. Fear had washed the color from his face.

  Before we could react, a psychotic army of Screamers peeled from behind the surrounding buildings. Each of the zombies rushed into the center of the town mall and surrounded the woman. And then…they stopped, as if the rage had been sucked from their souls.

  “They’re sizing each other up,” Joshua whispered, in awe.

  “It’s like they’re trying to establish some pecking order,” Jamal added.

  “No. I don’t buy that. They’re mindless bastards; they have no need for a goddamn pecking order.”

  I wanted to believe my words. Truth was, I didn’t. There was no logic to nature now. No matter how much we strived to adhere to the laws of physics and science, they didn’t seem to amount to the square root of fuck-all any more.

  “Josh,” Morgan called from above, “I realize this goes against everything we stand for; but if we stay and fight, what we won’t stand is a chance.”

  “I’m with ya all the way.” Josh lowered his weapon. “Let’s bug out.”

  Shit.

  “We can’t.”

  “What do you mean, Bethany?” Joshua questioned. “We can and we will.”

  “Echo. We can’t leave her.”

  “Fuck.” Morgan and Josh spoke out in unison.

  Rizzo stepped in close to me.

  “I got this one.”

  Before we could stop her, she was off in a cloud of dust.

  “Should one of us…?” I started.

  Josh shook his head. “Riz will be fine. Let’s all get in the truck and wait for her. Morgan will stay up top and cover their return.”

  Morgan tossed a wink my way and turned the barrel of the gun back toward the horde.

  “I don’t like this, Jamal.”

  “Me either, B. Their behavior is starting to evolve. They almost seem…organized.”

  Jamal was right. The Screamers were still standing in a circle around the woman. One by one they roared at one another, almost as if they were proving their ferocity through sound. The loudest shriek got the girl—or in this case the brainpan stir-fry.

  Finally, one of the zombies stepped forward. When another attempted to move, the other released a Jurassic-powered roar that drove the challenger back. What had to be the silverback zombie stepped up to the girl, grabbed her head, and crushed her skull with his bare hands. Immediately he thrust his fingers inside and pulled out the delicacy. Every Screamer in the circle unleashed a horror-soundtrack of cries and howls. When the silverback finished his meal, he walked around within the circle, his chest puffed up, as if he actually comprehended his victory.

  “This isn’t happening.”

  I put my hand on Jamal’s shoulder and gave it a pat.

  “Wake me from this nightmare,” I whispered into Jamal’s ear. He turned to me, his oversized brown eyes filled with compassion and concern. “I feel like we’re watching King Kong redux.”

  Before I could continue my commentary, the silverback stuck his rotting nose in the air. Some wind-borne stench had the beast’s attention.

  “Oh hell, no,” Josh hissed. “Get in the truck. Now.”

  No one had the courage to argue with the man-bear’s orders. The remaining crew climbed into the Hummer and closed the doors tight.

  “Josh, what’s going on?” I questioned. I was greeted with silence. “Josh…”

  “They smell us,” was all he needed to say. The single sentence sent a sea of dread flowing through my veins. Within the span of time between heartbeats, we went from spectators to sport. Any moment the horde would descend and feast.

  “We really need to haul ass.” Josh reached for the ignition.

  “No way.” I grabbed Josh�
��s arm and pulled it back. “We don’t leave without Echo and Rizzo—that is not up for debate.”

  Josh was about to argue my point when a chorus of undead screams washed over the vehicle. The first wave of sound was replaced by the staccato music of the machine gun. The second the weapon went silent, Echo and Rizzo’s voices could be heard calling out over the undead chorus.

  “There they are,” Jamal cried.

  The two young women rushed toward the truck, hands waving in the air. Echo and Rizzo were about fifty yards away, the undead horde about the same. It was officially a race against time. Thankfully, Joshua had the presence of mind to fire up the truck and speed off toward the girls. We had to give them every possible advantage. If we didn’t tip the scales in their favor, there’d be no way they’d survive the oncoming hell.

  Josh punched the roof of the truck twice. “Hang on, Morgo!” Without warning, he slammed on the brakes to spin the car sideways. As soon as gravity released him, Josh leaned over and opened the passenger-side door.

  The timing of the next moment was unbelievable. Echo’s hand reached the door handle just as one of the Screamers’ hands reached Echo’s arm. The monster gave his arm a yank and pulled Echo to the ground.

  “Echo, no!” My scream fell on deaf and dead ears.

  I tried to fight my way out of the truck to save Echo, but Jamal had the door blocked, his head slowly shaking “no.”

  What I saw next, I couldn’t believe. Rizzo rushed to an industrial-sized trashcan and pulled out a piece of rebar. The second she was at the zombie’s side, she swung the metal bar down hard enough to cave in the zombie’s skull.

  She didn’t stop there. Blow after blow she landed on the thing’s head, until it was little more than a pulpy mess. Echo managed to escape the grip of the grim reaper and reach the truck. Before the next round of death could reach her, Rizzo dropped the rebar and jumped into the Hummer.

  “Go! Go!” I shouted from the back of the truck. By the skin of our teeth, we were all together again. As the truck kicked up rooster tails of dust, Morgan unleashed a salvo of hatred from above. Jamal and I both rubbernecked our way to the window to watch bullets slice and dice the zombies, a few of which dropped to their final final death. It took a while for the remaining undead army to fade into the distance.

  Echo wept in Rizzo’s arms. The sounds of hell on earth faded into the distance.

  chapter 12 | a voice from the past

  Faddig once again stepped into the recovery room. The patient was sitting up in bed, carefully directing a forkful of sustenance into his mouth. The door closed behind the commander. Dr. Otte nodded; Faddig returned the greeting and then dropped a book and a CD onto the patient’s lap.

  Subject 002 picked up the book and read from the title.

  “I Zombie I? What’s this?”

  Faddig cleared his throat. “Some call it the bible of the new world order. We call it the manifesto of the great betrayal.”

  The patient looked up at Faddig; confusion pulsed through the veins on his forehead.

  “It’s the journal of Jacob Plummer. It describes, in glorious detail, his transformation into one of the undead. You need to read it, commit to memory every moment contained within these pages. The success of this mission depends upon your complete understanding of what transpired in this time period.”

  Subject 002 picked up the CD from his lap.

  “And this?”

  “That is something very special. What you have in your hand is the only known recording of Jacob Plummer. Bethany Nitshimi transcribed that recording into the book. I want you listening to the audio on that disc twenty-four seven—until you can reproduce the voice without fail. It must be to perfection for this to work. Do you understand?”

  Subject 002 nodded.

  “Good. I’ll expect you to be ready for quizzing soon. I’ll leave you to your studies.” Faddig started toward the door, but stopped and turned back to the bed. “By the way, that is the original journal. Treat it as if your life depended upon its continued existence.”

  Faddig turned back and marched out of the room with a confidence only a man in his position could dare own.

  Subject 002 opened up the journal and began to read aloud.

  “The blast ripped through the air, stopping all time and thought. Even from within my hotel room, I felt the concussion deep within my cells. I felt it in my gut, my eyes, my brain. It rang in my skull and burned my skin. The sensation and sound were everywhere and everything. And then it was nothing…which was the strangest part of it all. I expected the sounds of chaos—alarms, cries, screams—but there was nothing. I was confronted with an all-encompassing nothing. For an instant, I felt as if someone had lowered me into a sensory-deprivation chamber, where all was lost save some scattered randomness in my brain. At first I thought maybe the concussion had blown out my hearing, but the sound of breathing and the rustling of sheets neatly tucked away the fear of going deaf.”

  Dr. Otte stood in silence for a moment. Finally, he held his hand out to request the journal.

  “May I?”

  Subject 002 handed the bound pages over to the doctor.

  “I’ve read copies of this more times than I can possibly remember. This is the first time I’ve ever had the chance to hold the original.” A smile flashed across his lips as the book exchanged hands. “It’s not like I’m holding the constitution or one of Mozart’s original manuscripts…but this does hold a rather unique significance.”

  Subject 002 looked up at Otte. “I don’t understand.”

  “This book chronicles the greatest transition in the history of mankind—literally and figuratively. Jacob Plummer became the focus of the Zero Day Collective’s entire mission and we have the very blueprint for the man right here. This book is going to help you get under the skin and into the soul of that man so you can, in turn, help us retrieve something we lost.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  Dr. Otte reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a photo.

  “Do you see the man in this photo? That is…was…Jacob Plummer.”

  The doctor grabbed a mirror from a drawer in the bedside table and turned it toward the man in the bed.

  “What do you see?”

  Subject 002’s face drew in tight. “What have you done to me?”

  Otte pulled the mirror from the man’s grasp and returned it to the table.

  “We did what we do best. Now, I suggest you continue reading and listen to the contents of that disc. We’ll be sending you out soon enough.” He spun on his heel and swept out of the room.

  The door to the recovery room slammed shut behind Dr. Otte. The silence that drifted over every surface was disquieting. Before that silence could worm its way into the consciousness of Subject 002, he placed the disk into the portable player and hit Play. The voice spilled out of the speakers and chilled the air in the room.

  chapter 13 | new salt lake city

  “Oh my God,” Echo shouted, “there it is…New Salt Lake City.”

  We’d finally made it. I had long since given up the idea that a safe haven or Mecca (of any form) existed. Nothing was truly safe anymore. Not on earth, even as it is in heaven…you won’t find a singular spot protected from the ravages of post-apocalyptic disaster. From the tiniest mousehole to the goddamn Grand Canyon, there is nowhere to hide from the virus, from the Zero Day Collective, and from the undead horde. Even with those thoughts creeping into my consciousness, I couldn’t help but allow a twinge of excitement to bubble up my throat and into my mouth when I saw the shadow of the city skyline against the setting sun.

  “It’s beautiful,” said Rizzo.

  “So peaceful,” added Jamal.

  The calming spell the cityscape held over us lasted but a few miles. As soon as Highway 15 crossed over 215, things went into a sudden downward spiral. Before we could gather our thoughts on exactly where we needed to go, a Moaner stepped into the path of the Hummer.

  “Hello, Mr. Sel
f-Destruct,” Josh said, before he punched the gas and plowed into the zombie. Shreds of rotten flesh and brownish slop rained down on the windshield.

  “That had to hurt,” laughed Rizzo. Her laughter brought stares from everyone but Josh. “What? I can’t crack wise about the monsters? Besides, I was only following up Josh’s Nine Inch Nails reference.”

  As I stared around the inside of the truck, it dawned on me that Rizzo had a point. We’d all lost what little sense of humor had remained. As crazy as it sounded, humor was the most powerful medicine we had at our disposal.

  “Don’t worry, Riz, you’re in a warm place.” I decided to follow Josh and Rizzo’s lead. Rizzo smiled and held up her fist at me. I shook my head and winked. I had rules, one of which was no fist bumping. Ever. Fist bumping was for frat boys and shirt-tuckers—of which I was neither.

  Morgan turned around in her seat and looked my way. “What’s the plan?”

  There was my Achilles in this situation; I had no plan. That was the last thing this group needed—to find out their leader was clueless—so I had to improvise something, anything, to keep us moving forward.

  “Simple. We find a way into this city, set up a camp, and start planning our attack on the Zero Day Collective.”

  Josh slammed on the brakes, sending nearly everyone in the truck flying forward. “Yeah, that might not be as easy as you think.”

  After our little neck-snap disco, I managed to right myself and look through the windshield of the truck. What stood before us was no standard wall; we sat at the base of a towering monolith.

  “Holy shit,” Rizzo whispered, “how tall is that, ya think?”

  Jamal answered before anyone else could bother. “By my calculations, I would say just over thirty feet…give or take a few inches.”

  “How do you—” Rizzo started, “uh, never mind.”

  Morgan and Josh opened their doors and stepped out of the Hummer. Jamal and I followed suit.

  “I’m surprised there isn’t someone guarding this.”

  “Why would they need a guard? Morgo, no zombie’s going to lurch over this thing.”