by Jack Wallen
“Five.” Gerand whispered his best guest. They weren’t the best odds, but his gun had a full clip and his aim was, most-often, deadly. He sucked in a great, deep breath, pulled the door open, and immediately sprinted away from the building. Roughly thirty yards out; he stopped, turned to face the lab, and released a bellowing scream.
“Fresh brains!”
The humor was lost to the cold night air. The voice, however, was not. The zombies turned toward the sound and began their slow shuffle to the buffet. Gerand leveled his weapon and prepared to fire.
“This was not how I imagined this experience would be.” Gerand whispered as the zombies continued their death march forward.
The first shot ripped a whole through the neck of the nearest zombie. The beast continued on.
“I was promised the chance to save lives.”
The second shot pierced the left eye and sent the already wounded monster to its second grave.
“To save the world.”
Gerand closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. When his eyes reopened, he was shocked to see the remaining zombies had stopped. The genetically altered humans swayed back and forth, their heads either tilted to the sky or drooping toward the ground. In that moment, Gerand realized the beasts relied on sound. He flashed back to the eyes of Adele, remembering the off-white skin that covered the irises and pupils.
Advantage…living.
He raised his weapon once again, took aim on the female, and fired. The bullet cracked through the forehead and sent the woman back, again, to her maker.
At the sound of the gun, the zombies took up their march toward Gerand; but the biologist had thought on his side and slowly, silently backed away. When all sound from Gerand ceased, the zombies stopped and swayed.
Aim.
Fire.
Drop.
Walk.
The routine was repeated until each of the beasts was neutralized and the gun was emptied of ammunition. Gerand thoughtlessly tossed the weapon aside.
With nothing between him and lab, Gerand began the walk back. When he reached the corpses, he stopped and stared. “What have I done? I am a man of science.”
Deep within his chest, Gerand felt a weight the likes he’d never known. His life had been dedicated to furthering the cause of science. Now? His employer was a madman bent on evolving and bending the genetics of man for a cause none but the most warped of souls would ever comprehend. The weight was made all the more palpable because he had been so easily bought. A few million dollars would never cleanse the stain of death from his palette.
The hand that held the gun trembled, sending a shock of vibration up his arm and into his chest. Gerand’s eyes darted between the corpses strewn about on the ground. The smell of death slipped inside his sinuses. He knew the stink of decay would never leave.
Before he realized what was happening, Gerand was on his knees, weeping and screaming. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew the danger his rising voice had put him in; yet he continued. My life’s work, shot to hell, the weeping Gerand thought.
Through his tear-filled eyes the site of the Zero Day Collective vehicle struck a nerve of brevity he never knew he had.
He stood.
Like one of the zombies he’d just sent moaning to its maker, he stumbled toward the car; his mind on auto-pilot, barely registering what was about to happen. When he reached the car he slid in, turned the ignition, slammed the door shut, and drove off.
Chapter 25
By the time I reached the building that served as Burgess’s headquarters, I had the camera set on 1080p HDI, ready to record (in the best possible quality) any incriminating evidence Burgess and company might offer up.
“Damn, I hope this isn’t in vain.”
“Malcolm? Did you say something?”
Sonja’s question was confirmation enough that she had my back. She always did. The girl had saved my life and career on a number of occasions. I hoped this wouldn’t have to be one of them.
My first target was a window. The glass was perfect – above head-level, so there was no curtain or blind to block the view. I held the rig up to allow the tiny camera to glimpse inside.
“Sonny, are you picking this up?”
A second or two ticked by before the reply.
“Yes. I see Burgess and a group of self-important looking men and women seated around a table.” Over the headset, I heard Sonja tapping and clicking her keyboard. “Malcolm, I can’t hear anything.”
Hell. What was I thinking? The FBI might have had mics to pick up sound through glass – but not Hollywood. I knew sound geeks that worked with bounced laser beams to pick up sound through glass. I wasn’t a sound geek, nor did I have a laser handy.
A large parabolic mic would do the trick.
I didn’t have a large parabolic mic.
The only solution was to find an open window that looked into the same room. There was no time to chance getting caught finding another, viable view. Thankfully, improvisation was a strength of mine.
A few steps back and I was able to see that the glass window pane slid to the right. Back at the wall, I stretched up to try and latch my finger onto something.
“Damn it,” I whispered.
“Malcolm, what’s wrong?”
I filled Sonja in on my Mission Impossible meets Inspector Gadget plan. Only problem – I was neither. There was no ‘Go-go-Gadget window opener’ ready to spring from my hat. This would be a low tech to no tech solution.
Thankfully, in this case, necessity was one hell of a mother of invention. I held the camera back up to the window so Sonja could give me a read on the location of the inhabitants of the room.
No one was either near or looking toward the window.
A few large stones served as a step stool to get me high enough to place the palm of my right hand on the glass. My left hand continued to hold aloft the camera. Sonja fed me the play by play.
“They’re all watching the monitors. You’re good to go.”
After a steadying breath, I stepped one foot up on the stones to gauge the stability of my make-shift creation. Another, deeper breath and I hoisted my other foot up. I froze my gaze on a single spot on the wall and tightened up my core. At that very second I wished I could jump back in time and demand my mother accept that the ballet classes I demanded as a child would, in fact, come in handy some day.
A final check with Sonja…
“You’re good to go.”
I placed my flat palm on the window and hoped like hell Murphy didn’t bitch slap me in the face with his law.
The window silently, and ever so slowly, slid to the right. After just a few short inches, I stopped. The veil between us and them had been breached. Sounds spilled out into the night air. Carefully, I lowered myself back to the ground and steadied the camera.
“Perfect, Malcolm. I’m picking up audio and video. They’re just watching the live feeds…nothing special. Wait…the door to the room just opened.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Burgess bellowed in his distinctively greasy voice that spilled out the window and down the outside wall.
“It’s Gerand, the biologist!” Sonja spoke excitedly.
“I’m through, Burgess. I cannot be a part of this experiment any longer. You have crossed lines that should not have even been approached. What you’ve done cannot be undone and I want nothing to do with it.”
Surprisingly, Burgess laughed. “My dear man, you act as if you’ve a choice. The dirt under your nails is the same color and consistency as mine. You were bought as easily as everyone in this room and nothing will ever strip you of the role you have played in this fantastic scheme.”
“That is part of why I cannot be privy to this plan any longer.” There was desperation in Gerand’s voice – one that Burgess would easily pick up on.
“Dr. Gerand, I have explained the why to you countless times.”
“Yes, and I do not believe you. Revenge does not spur one on to genoc
ide. There is something else driving you down this mad path and I want nothing to – ”
There was a scuffle. The sound of shattering glass and toppled furniture jump-started my heart.
Burgess’ voice finally cut through the darkness.
“Young man, in case I did not make myself perfectly clear from the beginning of this experiment, as you so eagerly called it, you are mine. Not only do I employ you, I own you. I have every moment of this operation recorded. Every word you’ve said, every life you’ve taken – all safely tucked away on an impenetrable hard drive that only I can access. Should you decide to call it quits, all I have to do is send a few video clips to the right people and you would be ruined. And before you even think it – yes, I would dare.”
“You might as well kill me now then.” Gerand’s reply was pure defeat.
“Why on Earth would I do such a foolish thing? I need you biologist, especially with your mentor on his way. Not many can speak the same language as the reigning God of physics, Lindsay Godwin. Your necessity is far greater now than it ever was. The Great Cleansing will move forward and it will move forward with you as its chief biologist. Once Godwin arrives you will be assisting him to resolve the one critical component to this operation that has eluded you – the entropy of the soldiers. I gave you very clear instructions as to the life cycle of those monsters. It seems to me they are all surviving beyond the allotted time. I am confident you and Dr. Godwin can resolve that issue. If not, everything I have worked for my entire life is a failure. Doctor, do I need to remind you how poorly I deal with failure.”
The question wasn’t answered. I assumed the reply was caught on camera and it involved a fear-induced, wide-eyed head shake.
“By the way – you were spot on when you assumed there was another reason for my madness. What that reason is, well, is not yours to learn. There are simply some choices, made by powerful men such as myself, which need not be understood by those below us. If you can’t accept that, well, you are living in a fantasy. The powerful always lead the weak – it is our job, our station. At this particular moment in time, I happen to be the single most powerful man on the planet, and I will lead the weak into the new world order.”
“He’s not budging.” Sonja whispered in my ear. I could tell, by her voice, she was engrossed in the drama unfolding before us.
“Was I not clear, doctor?”
“Perfectly so. But this little meeting has taught me something very valuable.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
“You need me. Yes, you might be bringing in one of the most brilliant minds on the planet – but Dr. Godwin is a physicist, not a biologist. You can’t continue on without me. That gives me the power.”
A thunderous, slow clap popped out of the building.
“Well played, Gerand. Well played. You are correct – somewhat. I do have a singular need for your particular skills. You might have noticed there are a large number of underlings serving your whim. Some of those students are particularly brilliant and could easily step into your shoes without missing a moment. So, to the truth, I do not need you, I need a biologist. If you are unwilling or unable, any number of your assistants could take your place. But let’s do continue on as we are. I wouldn’t want to have to give this same lecture a second time. Now, run along – you have work to do.”
The cool night air filled with silence. I waited for a punchy retort from Gerand, but none came. Not even Sonja spoke a word. For a second, I thought my headset went out; but then Sonja released a soft sigh in my ear.
“That kind of drama we can’t write. Wow. Burgess should be writing screen plays. The man’s got a way with words.”
She was right. As much as I hated the man at the moment, there was a rarefied eloquence about him. He was King Richard III in a modern world, with modern power, and modern lapels.
“Gerand is walking out.” Sonja picked up her play by play.
I had no idea why, but my feet insisted me away from the window and had me running to the other side of the building. As I turned the final corner, Gerand was just about to open the car door.
“Malcolm! What are you doing?” Sonja was in my ear. I chose to ignore her.
“Dr. Gerand. Excuse me, Dr. Gerand.”
Nerves jerked the man around, his hand shot to his pocket as if he desperately wished for a gun. It was clear, by the lack of a bulge and the look of disappointment in his eyes, there was no weapon to be had.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
I held up my empty hand; a gesture of peace. “It’s Malcolm, the director of the movie.”
Gerand relaxed, dramatically so. To the prying eye it seemed as if there was a deeper story in the reaction – like he knew he was with someone he could trust.
“I just want to ask you some questions.”
“I’m sorry; I have neither time nor answers. I must get back to my lab right away.”
Gerand opened the door and started to slide into the driver’s seat.
“Why is he doing this, the real reason? Do you know?”
Gerand pulled himself back out of the car and gave me a deep stare. “I thought I did. Turns out I do not. But I know who does and I will get to the bottom of this. If you have any idea what’s best, you will avoid that man at all costs. He is incredibly dangerous at the moment. What is happening here is not just his life’s work, it’s his only passion. John Burgess will die before he sees The Great Cleansing fail.”
The doctor started to slip back into the car.
“Who knows the truth?”
“I can’t tell you that. I’m sorry, I really must go. Do yourself a favor – hide until this exercise in apocalyptic futility is over. You do not want to get caught up in the hell about to be unleashed. Oh, and forget about the movie. There never was one. This charade was little more than a ruse to make sure Burgess had something to forever stroke his grandiose ego.”
Without further explanation, Gerand sat himself into the driver’s seat, closed the door, started the car, and rolled off into the fog of night. I was left, alone, holding a camera in my hand and too many questions in my mind.
“Jesus Christ, Malcolm!” Sonja’s shout jerked me back to reality.
Standing not fifteen feet in front of me was one of the undead. He was swaying back and forth in the silence of night. Fear gripped my heart and froze my feet to the ground. My hand, however, decided to brave a close up with the camera. With as steady a hand as I could manage, I brought the camera up close and personal with death.
“Malcolm, have you lost your mind?” Sonja whispered into my ear.
The zombie was completely unaware of the close up treatment he was getting. Strange to think just hours ago I would have thought this nothing more than an actor in make-up and prosthetics.
And that was all the inspiration and motivation I needed to leave the scene. With the silence of a mouse fleeing the scene of a cat fight, I slipped away.
“Malcolm,” Sonja was in my ear. “We caught that entire conversation.”
All of a sudden the fiction switch flipped and I was now filming a rather disturbing documentary.
“Sonja, this might be the single most important film I’ve ever made.”
Chapter 26
Gerand rushed into the lab and cut a path straight for his office. From all sides, lab assistants lobbed a barrage of questions and concerns toward him. Every word ricocheted off and fell to silence. On his face was drawn a mask of determination none had seen before.
The door to the office slammed shut behind him. The silence massaged his spirit and coerced tears from his eyes. He stood, in the center of his office, and took in a deep breath. For some unknown reason, a Coheed and Cambria song popped into his mind – The Dark Side of Me. He knew the tragic lyrics weren’t exactly apropos to the situation, but the raw emotion of the voice and the melody further fueled his tears. The title of the song reminded him of the horrific mistake he made in agreeing to work with the Zero Day Collective. His own d
ark side was given life and that life had wrought death.
“I have to find a way out,” Gerand whispered; unsure if his office was bugged or not. “There has to be a way.”
And then he remembered the reason he rushed into his office.
He opened the safe and pulled out the sat phone. Once it was booted, an alert appeared that an incoming text had arrived. It was from Godwin. The message was clear, and painful.
On my way.
Three simple words and the burden of the world eased from the shoulders of the biologist. Godwin would be forced into doing unconscionable things. Did the man know this? Had he any idea the deeds that awaited him in this apocalyptic microcosm? Burgess managed to coerce everyone into doing his bidding, and now he had the world’s most authority on quantum physics on his way to ensure The Great Cleansing would come to fruition.
Somehow the tables had to be turned. There had to be a way to stem the tide of death that threatened to wash over mankind.
Godwin will save us. Gerand thought. Or maybe it was more hope than thought.
A soft knock pulled him from continuing his downward spiral.
“Yes?” Gerand entreated the knocker to enter.
A cherub-round face with the moss-green eyes peeked into the office. “Sir,” the gentle voice was laced with nerves. “It’s Chris. He’s amplified. He broke free from the bindings, but we have him trapped in the room. What should we do?”
It only took a single, deep breath to steel his nerves.
“Amelia,” Gerand quickly read the young assistant’s name tag. “Follow me.”
Outside of the office, the dogs of war had been let loose. The pounding and screeching seemed to come from everywhere – from the examination room and from beyond the metal walls of the lab. The undead were everywhere.
“There’s something different about Chris. With all other subjects the rage eventually gave way to a more passive behavior – the prototypical zombie, if you will. Chris, on the other hand, seems to be getting more and more aggressive.”