I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  Silence forced its will upon the room. Wenning and Burgess stared hard at one another – neither giving quarter until the first crashing pound reverberated through the building.

  L.A. Wenning shot a nervous smile at Burgess. “I believe that would be logic knocking at your front door, John.”

  Burgess stood as a drop of sweat fell from his forehead and splashed down on the floor between his feet. His jaw flexed and his eyes blinked a nervous dance. Another rattling crash against the outer wall drew his attention to the sole window in the room. The window was too high to look through, even at Burgess’s six feet, four inches.

  He hoisted his heft onto a chair. The metal and plastic groaned under his weight. When he finally pulled himself up to get a view of the outside world, what he saw tipped the scales of gravity and sent him flying to the floor.

  “John, what happened?”

  Despite her earlier vitriol, L.A. Wenning shot to John’s aid.

  “John, you’re white as a ghost. What did you see?”

  Little more than a mumble escaped Burgess’s lips.

  “What did you see out there Burgess?” Kriege reached out a hand to assistant the large man up.

  As Burgess stood, his voice gained strength.

  “Hundreds of them. They’re everywhere.”

  A wicked grin slithered across the man’s face.

  “It’s beautiful. The Great Cleansing is going to finally happen.”

  “You right bastard.” Kriege released his hand. “Nothing is going to happen if we don’t manage to escape this atrocity.”

  Burgess finally turned to his audience, his eyes back to their beady, focused norm. “What do you take me for? What good would it do me to have devised this masterful plan and not have an escape route? We just have to wait for Godwin and Doctor Gerand to return and we’ll be on our way back to the headquarters.” Burgess stepped away and back to his seat. “Seriously…what kind of fool would I be if I hadn’t included an extraction plan in this setup?”

  “Well, why aren’t we making use of that plan?” L.A. Wenning shouted.

  “Did you not listen to me? I will not leave without Godwin and Gerand. They are my insurance. Without the work of Gerand, the Mengele Virus would be worthless. Without the help of Godwin, I’ll never be able to control the virus. Control is key. Control is power.”

  “Well,” Kriege huffed, “use some of that control, retrieve your golden boys, and let us get the hell out of here immediately.”

  Godwin tapped a few keys on his tablet. On the largest monitor a new scene displayed. “My two ‘golden boys’ are busy proving their worth.”

  Chapter 33

  By the time Godwin and Gerand arrived at the location for the EMP cannon, the assistants had the pipe wrapped and ready. It was clear, by their intricate work, the lab technicians fully understood the fundamentals of the electro-magnetic pulse cannon.

  From all directions, the cries of the undead blanketed the area.

  “I do not like the sound of that.” Godwin’s voice was shaky.

  “Get used to it, my friend – it’s the new world order.”

  “A new world fashioned from old world madness.” Godwin mumbled the reference to the Mengele virus. “Why did you get involved with this nightmare? Did they threaten you as well?”

  Gerand swallowed nervously. “You could say it was a happy marriage of promise and threat. Look, I’m not proud of this decision, but at least I have the opportunity to right the wrong.”

  The silence between the scientists was punctuated with the howls of the damned. Godwin glared at Gerand.

  “Are you sure it’s not too late? Can this atrocity engine be shut down? Or will it drive through natural selection until the whole of man is forever changed? Your virus…”

  “It’s not my virus,” Gerand interrupted. “I didn’t create it. I just…resurrected it.”

  “Fitting. The Mengele virus, if you will, has opened a Pandora’s Box and, once opened, may not ever be shut again. It seems the Nazi regime’s hold on the planet was never released. I am truly ashamed to be a part of this.”

  “We’re ready for the detonator, sir,” one of the techs cut in.

  “By all means,” Godwin gestured for Gerand to install the detonator.

  With the small piece of technology in place and armed, Gerand gestured for everyone to follow him into the nearest house. Once inside, everyone took up watch at a window.

  “I cannot promise the walls of this building will safeguard us from the effects of this device. Nor can I promise – ”

  “Just fire the damned thing.” Godwin broke in, frustrated.

  Gerand tapped out the code on his smart phone. At first it seemed nothing happened. There was no sound, no pop or boom. After a moment, the sound of static filled the air and was followed by a low, metallic thump.

  And all went black and silent – as if everything in the vicinity was stripped of power. Gerand glanced at the black screen of his smartphone. No matter how he pressed the power switch, the device would not respond.

  “It worked. By God, Lindsay, it worked!” Gerand glanced out the window. “They’re still standing. Damn it!”

  “Fear not, Richard, you cannot expect the effects immediately. You know entropy and decay do not work like that.”

  “What now?” One of the assistants called out, the tremolo of fear vibrating his voice.

  Before either of the scientists could answer, a crashing sound spilled over the muted discussion.

  “We need to leave. Now.” Gerand could see the curiosity pique in Godwin’s eyes, so he grabbed him by the arm and led him to the door.

  The open door revealed another mounting danger. Stumbling toward the entrance of the house was a small group of zombies, close enough to prevent easy escape. Gerand slammed the door shut and turned away from the oncoming nightmare.

  “Up the stairs!”

  One by one they filtered into the narrow stair case. Gerand brought up the rear of the group. When his foot hit the first step, he pulled out the pistol he’d tucked into the back of his pants – just in time for one of the undead to appear in the hallway. Gerand wasted no time, took aim, and sent a bullet through the frontal lobe of the monster. The beast dropped with a meaty thud.

  The next undead house guest stepped over the fallen comrade and offered up a moan of condolence. Gerand trained the pistol on the face of the beast and pulled off a shot. The bullet went low and glanced off the cheek. A small, dead chunk of flesh dropped to the floor. A second shot struck home and dropped the zombie.

  Gerand sped up the stairs and met with the rest of the group. They were huddled in a bedroom at the end of the hall on the upper floor.

  Godwin lowered his glasses to the tip of his nose; his eyes shot over the frames and bore into Gerand.

  “You do realize you have trapped us up here. We have nowhere to escape from the living dead that will inevitably make their way up those stairs. If I am being presumptuous, I apologize; but if this was your plan, I must say your survival skills are dreadfully lacking.”

  Gerand bristled. “And just what would you have done differently?”

  “I would not have cornered us, for one thing. We are little more than sitting ducks awaiting the fox to flush us out. And based on what little data I have already collected, there is no way the magazine in that weapon contains enough bullets to take down the entire zombie horde out there.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” one of the assistants attempted to gain the attention Gerand

  Gerand ignored the young man and approached Godwin. “And I suppose you have a better idea.”

  “Sir,” the young man again attempted to garner Gerand’s attention.

  “In fact, I do.” Godwin picked up the small chair from what was obviously the desk of a young, pre-teen girl (both chair and desk were bubblegum pink). As he approached the only window in the room he swung the chair to send it flying through the glass and tumbling to the ground below. “I noticed, as we entered the h
ouse, a fold-up escape ladder at the side of each second-story window.”

  Godwin reached out and released the ladder.

  “I want each of you to grab hold and lower yourselves down to the ground.”

  Godwin proceeded to tear down the pink and lavender cloth curtains that hung on each side of the window. From his pocket he produced a pipe lighter. “I assume, like in the movies, zombies are not the biggest fans of fire?”

  With a single flick, the lighter was ablaze. Godwin held the flame directly under the fabric. Once the flame began to consume the material, Godwin flung the door to the bedroom open, stepped down the hall, and tossed the fire-breathing curtain down the stairs. The smell of smoke immediately filled the hall as Godwin turned and made his way back to the bedroom.

  “Why are you still standing there?” Godwin pointed toward the window. “Do I need to explain that the law of diminishing returns applies to this very situation? I would greatly appreciate it if you would step through the window and climb down the ladder.”

  Gerand turned to do just that, but stopped and turned back to Godwin.

  “You were my hero, you know. I entered into the field of biology because of your work.”

  Godwin almost smiled. “Young man, although I dearly appreciate the sentiment, I would much rather survive than be showered with praise. I promise you, should we make it out of this situation alive, I will allow you to praise me as much as you like.”

  Gerand smiled and did as Godwin requested.

  Smoke billowed into the bedroom and flames licked the pink walls. Godwin reached out, took hold of the rope ladder. He glanced out to find Gerand still awkwardly descending.

  “My chances of survival grow ever worse with each passing second.” Godwin shouted out to Gerand. “If you could muster up a touch more speed…”

  The sound of moans undercut the roar of the fire. One of the zombies entered the room, its entire body engulfed in flames. The arms of the beast reached out, as if begging for a hug.

  Before the zombie could reach Godwin, the rope went slack and he swung his leg out and began the slow, steady trip down the challenging ladder. The zombie lurched to where Godwin was and gravity had its way with the dead weight of the monster. The flaming zombie dropped to the ground and exploded in a shower of gore.

  “That would be the effects of the EMP cannon!” Godwin shouted down. “It may well be working.”

  The smell from the dismantled beast was foul – like spoiled meat and vinegar.

  “We might be able to use that to our advantage. If the decay process is exponentially speeding up, the integrity of the flesh will have been compromised.” Godwin thought out loud.

  Gerand cocked his head and raised a single brow. “And how does that help us?”

  “And you call yourself a biologist! Come on man, think. What would a blow to the leg do if the walls of the dermis and epidermis were in a weakened state?” Godwin tossed out the question to anyone that listened.

  It was the youngest of the females that answered. “If the blow was sufficient in power, the leg would react in a similar fashion as did this zombie’s body – it would explode.”

  “Give that girl a cookie,” Godwin smiled. “Everyone, arm yourself with anything resembling a club. The second you see one of the undead, swing for the stands.”

  As the assistants scattered in search for weapons, Gerand pulled Godwin aside.

  “We have to make our way to the headquarters building. If I know Burgess, he’s getting antsy to pull out of this mess. We need to be there when his means of escape departs.”

  “Follow me.” Gerand’s voice was a mere whisper.

  “What about your students?”

  Gerand glanced over his shoulder just in time to see another small collection of the undead citizen brigade descend upon the area. The assistants had already armed themselves and were doing their best to defend against the attack.

  “I believe they have their hands full at the moment. There’s no time to hang around. If we want to survive this hell, we have to go now.”

  Screams spilled from the small war.

  “We cannot just leave them, Richard.”

  Gerand closed his eyes as his hand reached for his gun. “You’re right.”

  With the motion of an action hero, Gerand turned, brought the pistol to bear on the zombies and let a single bullet fly through the gray matter of the nearest undead warrior. The thing’s head burst like an over-filled balloon. Before Gerand could get a clean shot on another of the zombies, one had a technician on the ground and was smashing the pleading man’s head on a stone. The sound of the cracking skull was muted by the sounds of death that danced across the night sky. The zombie dug its fingers into the lifeless skull. When its blood-slick fingers came up to drop a chunk of gray matter into its mouth, Gerand fired off another shot. The bullet missed the mark and ripped through the neck of the beast. In a disgusting display of fleshy fireworks, the meat and bone of the neck shattered and scattered in all directions. The head of the zombie dropped to the ground, its sour-milk eyes forever glaring into the darkened sky.

  One student remained. Amelia; surrounded by three zombies. Gerand was determined to save her. As he raised the pistol – one of the zombies dropped as if time simply ran out.

  “Duck!” Gerand shouted. The words immediately registered with Amelia and she allowed gravity to take her down. Once the girl was out of the way, Gerand pulled off two shots. The first struck home, just behind the right temple, exploding the skull in three hundred and sixty degrees. The headless body dropped, landing squarely on the cowering assistant. The final zombie turned toward Gerand and began the slow, steady shamble toward the new victim.

  The hammer cocked.

  The hammer dropped.

  The zombie said good night.

  With the final zombie out of the picture, Amelia pushed the torso off, stood, and ran at Gerand – her arms spread wide for an obvious ‘thank you’ hug. After the second step, she collapsed at Gerand’s feet, howling in pain.

  “What is it?” Gerand rushed to his assistant and knelt.

  “My leg. I think it’s broken.”

  Gerand gave a quick look at the leg in question and turned to Godwin. The look on Gerand’s face was all too obvious.

  “Your leg isn’t broken. You were bitten.”

  “No!” Amelia reacted sharply. “I don’t remember feeling – ”

  “It was crazy back there. It could have happened at any time. You’re in no shape to travel.”

  “You can’t just leave me here out in the open.”

  Godwin stepped in to save the day.

  “You are infected, young woman. They won’t bother you now. We will reach the lab, get the cure, return here, and fix you up.”

  Godwin turned and raised his eyebrows at Gerand.

  “But what about the vaccination? Why isn’t it working?

  Gerand turned to the young woman and spoke through a tight throat. “We had no way of knowing for sure if the vaccine worked. We have to get back to the lab and retrieve the cure. We’ll be back. I promise.”

  “How long will that take?” Amelia spoke through sobs.

  “We’ll be back before you realized we left.” Gerand attempted to lighten the mood.

  It worked. Amelia released what could pass for the slightest of chuckles.

  “I’ll wait here then. Just please hurry.”

  Gerand turned to Godwin. “This way. It’s not far.”

  As soon as the men were out of earshot of Amelia, Godwin spoke.

  “That was all a ruse, correct? We’re not really coming back for her are we?”

  “As much as I hate to say it, you’re right. She’s gone. It’ll only be a short matter of time before she’s doing a little cranium dumpster diving.”

  “Dear Lord, Richard, where are your manners?”

  “Seriously? We’re escaping from zombies and you’re first concern is that of my manners? Lindsay, you’ve got a lot to learn about surviv
ing the apocalypse.”

  Chapter 34

  My lungs burned. My legs begged for rest. My mind, however, couldn’t get itself out of the downward spiral inspired by the itching, flaming wound on the back of my neck. I was bit – by a zombie. If every movie and book written on the subject was correct, I was infected. And if Romero and Savini were correct, I was as good as undead.

  Fiction.

  Why couldn’t it all have been fiction? Too many times I’d had fans of my work say my films were always so dimensional, so real. Even though I told lies for a living, my creations were born of truth. Not one of those truths could stand up to the lie I was now living out.

  Zombies. And I was about to join their undead cause.

  My legs slowed, my heart raced. I could feel the sweat at my lower back cooling as my vision momentarily blurred.

  Before I realized what was happening, I was on my knees. A hot stream of tears raced down each cheek. When I looked up, I could see the wall through the veil of grief that stained my sight. Irony was always one of my strong suits. The irony of a dead man, mere feet from freedom was not lost on me. Though my vision was blurred, I could tell the wall was seamless to the naked eye. I had hoped for some obvious chink in the armor. There was nothing.

  Yet I had to make it. Though that blessed threshold no longer represented my escape, I had to make sure the truth found the freedom I would never again know. My fate now lie within these walls.

  On shaking, weak legs, I stood and made my way to the wall. Just as the palm of my hand pressed against the cold metal, the moan of many played across my ears. A horde was drawing near. Would they know? Could they smell the infection now flowing through my veins? Would that give me some strange sanctity against the zombies?

  My hand slid along the flat surface. I didn’t take long to find the seam of the gate. With nearly every ounce of strength I had left, I pushed. The wall groaned and gave way. The crack grew: One inch, two inches, three, six…until it was wide enough for me to slip through.