I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  Burgess stood and slammed his beefy fists to the table.

  “This goddamn experiment is supposed to have a short shelf-life. You knew this Gerand. You said controlling the infected would be a simple matter of – ”

  “Yes, genetic entropy.” Gerand interrupted. “I well remember the conversation. But apoptosis of this nature doesn’t function within a simple tick of the clock. Each biological entity will decay at its own rate.”

  Again Burgess slammed his fist down, this time toppling over water glasses. “The time frame was integral to this experiment. I gave you a week. You said it would work. If it doesn’t work, Gerand, you join them on the street.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Burgess. Once the experiment was set in motion, things were out of my control.”

  The sweat on Burgess’s forehead nearly evaporated from the man’s rising temperature.

  “It’s a good thing for you I have the means to control nearly everything. I highly recommend you figure out how to reign in this chaos you’ve created. I have a cavalry to call in.”

  Burgess sucked in a deep breath and carefully placed the radio on the table. As soon as the small device was still, he overturned the table and stomped away.

  “John. Have you gone mad?” Kriege shouted.

  Burgess turned to the board, his eyes narrow, and his lips cracking a wicked grin. “Why yes, Mr. Kriege, I have gone mad. I’ve become nothing more than Frankenstein. Those creatures out on the streets, those are my monsters.”

  Burgess immediately placed himself directly in front of Darrius Kriege and grabbed him by the lapels of his coat.

  “It takes a monster to rule the world, wouldn’t you say?”

  Kriege was released and fell back into his chair. Burgess crossed away, his back to the board of directors. What the board saw was Burgess’ hand reaching into the pocket of his coat. Everyone froze, assuming a gun was about to be leveled on the crowd. When he turned around, Burgess held a satellite phone to his ear. His eyes were narrowed into sharp points.

  “Initiate Godwin Protocol.”

  Three words was all Burgess spoke into the phone before he disconnected. With the phone returned to his pocket, he righted the overturned table and dropped his over-large ass into his chair.

  “Please, have a seat.”

  “John, would you please explain to us what in the hell is going on?”

  Burgess stared around the room and sucked in a great breath through his large, reddening nose.

  “Before we launched this phase of the Cleansing, I procured a security policy to ensure the experiment didn’t get out of hand. I had been monitoring the work of a quantum physicist, Dr. Lindsay Godwin. He and Dr. Joy Daniel Michael have made great strides in a super cure that I believe can actually stop the Mengele Virus. The very existence of this cure threatens everything we are working for. Destroying their work, however, would be shortsighted. Godwin and Michaels are completely unaware of our work – at least for now. We previously transported Godwin to our head quarters in New York and, any moment, a crew will deliver him to us. When Godwin arrives, I will show him how imperative it is that he helps our cause.”

  “And just how do you know the man will be willing?”

  Burgess smiled and cocked his head. “My dear Ms. Wenning, when have you known me not to get my way?”

  A silence spilled over the room. Every member of the board looked around nervously, no one knew exactly what to say or do. It was Elizabeth Jennings who finally broke the tension.

  “John, I know of Godwin’s work. The very mention of his name makes me believe something has gone terribly wrong. I want to know exactly what has caused you to bring him into the project.”

  Burgess smiled at Jennings. He’d always had a soft spot for the Brit. Her overly proper posture and perfect diction always conjured images of his dear mother.

  “Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth. You are always one to pry – even when it may not be in your best interest. But I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you in on a secret or two. You see, my monsters aren’t dying off like they should be and very soon this walled-off city could be overrun by brain-eating zombies. If these beasts do not begin to expire soon, the only food remaining within these walls will be us. I don’t believe I have to spell that out for you. Or do I?”

  Everyone seated around the table stared on, wide eyed and slack-jawed. L.A. Wenning finally broke the spell.

  “You son of a bitch. How dare you put us in jeopardy like this? I have half a mind to kick your ass to the streets and see how long you survive.”

  Burgess jerked to a standing position, startling everyone. “Ms. Wenning, if you can’t control yourself, I’ll make sure you are sent to the streets. We’ll then see just who has half a mind. But I would dare say, should you give them long enough, you won’t have any mind at all.”

  L.A. Wenning stood. “How do you know Godwin will help?”

  Burgess picked up the tablet from the table, tapped out a quick sequence, and nodded to the monitor at the head of the room. On the screen, a woman in her late fifties was tied to a chair, her head drooping forward.

  “What you are looking at is my insurance policy. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Mrs. Doctor Lindsay Godwin. And if that isn’t good enough for you…” Burgess nodded to another monitor that revealed a young woman. The implication was still both simple and powerful to grasp.

  “His wife and his daughter. I have them both, held under lock and key. Though I will most likely never release them, they are quite the game changer for us. All we have to do is threaten their safety and we’ll have Lindsay Godwin performing every physics experiment known to man. In a matter of moments, Godwin will have these undead monsters melting into the grass and streets and no one will be the wiser.”

  Darrius Kriege stood, adjusted his coat, took off his glasses, and stared deep into the heart and soul of John Burgess.

  “And then what? Once you’ve succeeded in wiping clean the slate of this little berg, what is the next step in your Great Cleansing?”

  “Our, Darrius, our Great Cleansing. Each and every member of this board is balls deep into this, and the only way out is through that door. Before you exit, however,” Burgess dabbed at his forehead with a fresh silk handkerchief and smiled. “You should know there is no escape, until I say so.”

  Half of the eyes in the room were laden with tears, the other with shock.

  “As to your question of what next, that is simple; the Mengele Virus will be released upon the world. You may, or may not know, that Dr. Lindsay Godwin has developed a Quantum Fusion Generator. His plan is to give to the planet a perfectly renewable energy source. I have been told, by my own team of physicists, the Godwin Generator will be capable of some serious amplification of the virus. Godwin, of course, doesn’t know this; nor will he.”

  Kriege replaced his glasses, took in a deep breath, and slowly released the air in a hiss of anger. “So, your plan is to infect the world population and then what? Claim your throne atop a steaming pile of ruin? John, have you gone mad? This kind of power will twist you; change you into something you’re not.”

  Wenning stepped forward. “I believe we’re already too late for that.”

  “And what if Dr. Godwin is unable to – ”

  Burgess laughed. “Elizabeth, my dear, do you honestly believe I’d recruit failures. Godwin will succeed, of that there is no doubt. And when he does succeed, I will walk out onto the back of the remains of humanity the most powerful man on the planet.”

  Kriege huffed and reached into his jacket. Everyone in the room went stiff with fear. When Kriege’s hand revealed a small satellite phone, everyone but Burgess released a sigh of deep relief.

  “What exactly do you plan to do with that, Darrius?”

  “Make coffee, John. What in the hell do you think I plan on doing with this? I’m calling my assistant to come and take me as far away from this insanity as possible. I don’t care if I have to be shot straight to the moon; so long as there is
enough distance between us that I cannot see the smug look on your face when you fail. Should I have to stand here and listen to this steady stream of nonsense pouring from your mouth much longer, I might wind up believing you’re some sort of prophet. John, what you are doing is crazy. And, in case you are wondering, I will put a stop to it.”

  Kriege began dialing his sat phone. The first three digits of the phone number were tapped out and, just before the fourth was pressed, a deafening gunshot echoed off the walls of the room. Darrius looked up, his eyes crossed in an attempt to see the bullet hole in his forehead. His body bounced off the floor, face first, as the sat phone skidded to a halt at Burgess’s feet.

  “Should anyone have similar flights of fancy, know you will meet the same fate. The Great Cleansing will happen, with or without you alive to see it through.”

  Chapter 24

  “Doctor, you’re going to want to see this.” The assistant was too wide-eyed for good news.

  Gerand stood from behind his desk, smoothed out his lab coat, and followed the messenger out the door. His stride was the slow, measured step of a man on the brink of breakdown. The last thing the biologist wanted to take in was more bad news. Murphy’s Law already held a powerful sway over the machinations of science. One more blow could easily land the man rocking and drooling into a corner.

  The assistant led Gerand to a small bank of monitors above the control center in the main room. What played out threatened to drop kick Gerand into emotional infancy.

  “This…this isn’t possible. There are…too many of them.” Gerand’s voice was barely audible. The man’s sanity retreated slightly as he stepped in closer to the screens. “Has anyone counted?”

  “So far we’ve registered fifty-six; but – ”

  “The total population of this village is four hundred and eleven people. Over one eighth of the population has been amplified in a few hours. This can’t be happening. If this continues…”

  An ominous pounding rattled the lab.

  “Oh God.” Gerand slowly looked around the room as he spoke. “It’s happening.”

  The pounding intensified and multiplied.

  “What’s happening? Doctor, what is out there?”

  “Them.” Gerand pointed to the bank of monitors. “The monsters are returning to their maker.”

  The beat-down rattled and hummed the thin metal of the temporary walls. The violent vibrations shook equipment and snatched breath from heaving chests.

  Suddenly, the hammering stopped. A welcome silence embraced the lab as every member of the biology team stood motionless. Eyes, in statue-still heads, darted about the room in search of some answer to a singular unasked question.

  What now?

  Before the question was voiced, it was answered. From outside, a chorus of low, guttural moans spoiled the blissful silence.

  One of the younger, female assistants screamed.

  “What do they want?”

  All eyes turned to Gerand, who unblinkingly answered in a telling whisper:

  “Us.”

  The screaming girl dropped to her knees and wept. Quite possibly, out of habit, one of the males attended to her.

  The moans intensified. The metal wall tattoo began anew.

  Gerand rushed to the crying girl and yanked her to her feet. His voice, just above a whisper, spoke firmly. “I don’t mean to seem cruel, but you must be quiet. If we are to survive this micro-apocalypse, we cannot alert those monsters as to our whereabouts.”

  Somehow, his words sunk in and the weeping girl fell silent. Everyone in the lab caught on and ceased all sound and movement.

  All but Gerand. He sped over to the main electric panel, killed the lights in the lab, and then rushed to the exit and tapped out the emergency lock-down code.

  “Hear no evil, see no evil,” the biologist whispered.

  The lab was lit by the faint glow of the monitors and red emergency lights.

  The moans continued on until an absolute silence engulfed the inside of the lab. Just as it seemed order was about to return, zombie Adele let her inner scream queen loose. To add insult to undead injury, metallic crashing sounds accompanied the screaming. Before anyone realized what had happened, Adele’s silhouette appeared in the doorway of the test room. The shadow-box figure was pure nightmare as it threw its head back and released another rage-fueled roar. Shredded Kevlar straps hung from her wrists.

  Chaos returned to the lab. Even before the screams reached their fevered pitch, the pounding and moans joined in from outside.

  Adele scrambled, like an enraged baboon, around the lab until she finally managed to latch on to one of the technicians. The frail frame belied the strength of the beast. The six foot four male dropped like a papier-mâché doll. Adele’s small fingers tangled deep into his thick hair and smashed the tech’s skull onto the concrete floor.

  Thunk.

  Thunk.

  Thunk.

  The third thunk was the charm that spilled the human dessert, hidden within the bowl of bone. Adele scooped up the gray bits, pressed them to her lips, and sucked them deep into an awaiting esophagus. Blood painted the floor below the dining zombie. When her fingers could no longer reach the meat within, Adele pulled at the skull until it cracked in half. The remaining chunk of brain snapped from its stem and rolled onto the floor. Adele released a roar and desperately grabbed at the lumpy, gray globe. Her already blood-slick fingers slipped on the shiny flesh, sending is spinning across the lab to the feet of one of the younger female assistants. When the young woman caught sight of the brain, the scream she released mocked the horde outside the walls of the building.

  Adele no longer focused on the dead tissue. Her milky eyes turned upward, her nose grasping for the scent of the voice.

  “Somebody kill that thing!” The girl shouted, just before Adele raced across the room and stood face to face with the noise maker.

  “No. Please.” The girl whimpered.

  Adele shot her hands out, grabbed the young woman’s head, and pulled it toward her gaping, rotten maw. The shout of the girl was muffled as Adele clamped bloody teeth onto the lips of the girl and bit down hard.

  Arms flailed like hummingbird wings, in a desperate attempt to unlock the zombie’s kiss of death. Adele jerked her head left, then right, until the flesh tore from the girl’s face. The shock of pain shuttered through the girl’s limbs. Her scream of agony was punctuated by a single gunshot.

  Adele dropped, first to her knees and then face to the floor.

  No one bothered to look about for the shooter. All eyes were locked on the blood and screams pouring from between the fingers of the assistant. It wasn’t until she dropped to the floor, beside the dead Adele, that someone finally rushed to her aid.

  “Someone help! I can’t stop the bleeding.”

  A dark river of blood spread between the assistant and Adele’s corpse, nearly glowing in the flood of red light. The young male at her side ripped off his shirt and pressed it against her ruined mouth. The slap of his hand in the blood pool punctuated his cries for help.

  Finally, a gurney was rolled onto the scene and two medical aids in bio-hazard suits took over. The scene was a ballet of movement, everyone involved dancing in perfect coordination to get the wounded off to repair the chaos of her flesh. The finale of the ballet took place as the aids wheeled the gurney off and the young male stood – the girl’s blood dripping anxiously from his fingers. A look of rage washed across his face and propelled him to Gerand. Strong, bloody fingers gripped the lab coat of the biologist and pulled him until he could taste the angry breath of the young man.

  “What are we doing?”

  “Chris,” Gerand calmly voiced the young male’s name. “The blood.”

  “It should be on YOUR hands, not mine!” Chris backed Gerand up against a wall and slammed his head against the cold metal.

  “No, Chris; the blood…it’s infected.”

  Chris released Gerand and glared at his hands, sticky with the blood
of his fallen colleague.

  “That means,” Chris mumbled as he backed away from Gerand.

  “It means nothing, Chris; not until we run some tests. You cannot…”

  A violent scream tore from the man’s lungs as terror registered in his eyes.

  “This is your fault. This is all your fault.”

  Chris lunged at Gerand. In his rage, he failed to notice the pool of blood at his feet and slipped. The crack his head made on the desk was not only audible, but sickening to anyone within range. Chris’s body lay, motionless and face-down, in the ruby red puddle on the floor. A rivulet of freshly oxygenated blood mingled with the infectious mess.

  Everyone in the lab stared on at Gerand, awaiting his next move. Before the silence could wind its way into the pulse of the glaring crowd, the horde beyond the walls reminded everyone that the nightmare was still on.

  Yet no one moved. Quite possibly out of fear, or simply because not one member of the lab team knew what the next move was.

  Moans and pounding fists rattled on.

  “I’m frightened.” The whisper came from behind Gerand.

  “You should be.” Gerand returned the only logical response.

  “What do we do?”

  Instead of the biologist’s voice, the distinctive sound of a cocking pistol answered the question.

  Gerand ran to door of the lab, his weapon held at his right hip. “Someone get Chris sedated and bound. I don’t want him furthering the spread of that virus when he wakes. Everyone else,” Gerand paused, unsure exactly what to tell his crew. “Grab something sharp.”

  For a brief moment, not one body was set in motion. A look of disbelief spread across the room. The sight of Gerand’s pistol sent everyone scrambling to find something to serve as protection. Had the undead not been waiting on the other side of the door, the scene would have held a kernel of comic relief.

  The green glow of the security pad awaited Gerand’s code. One by one he tapped the necessary digits: 020779. The green light intensified until the lock confirmed the sequence.

  From the outside, the pounding continued. Gerand did his best to calculate how many of the undead he was up against.