by Jack Wallen
I stared out, into the world beyond. The impulse to say ‘fuck it all’ was overwhelming. I wanted to walk, step over the threshold and take my chances; until guilt showed its nasty face.
“I can’t,” the horse whisper escaped my lips.
Instead, I struggled to slide my shuddering arms out of the backpack. Weakness was taking over. A feverish chill began to spread from the wound in my neck. It was happening – much faster than I thought it would. Any moment I would be overcome by the desire for human brains.
I wanted to vomit.
With every bit of heave left in my body, I tossed the backpack out into the great beyond. There was no way of knowing if anyone would even see it or pick it up – it was a chance I had to take. Hopefully some inquisitive stranger would happen along, open the pack, take a look inside, and curiosity would run its course.
The backpack landed in a clump of grass, inches from the street.
“The truth shall set you free.”
Why those words? I had no idea.
A shrill, piercing sound invaded my head. The noise brought with it a pain like I’d never felt. It was hot and hateful. My hands shot up to my ears. The gun that was still clasped in my right hand smacked against my temple.
Before the will to move left my muscles, I wrapped my fingers around the edge of the door and pulled. The strain threatened to snap the bones in my arms and legs; but the gate finally began to move. This was my last chance. Once the gate closed, it wouldn’t open again until the latch was unset. That meant one thing…
The end.
As the heavy clang of the closed door echoed into silence, the idea was immediate, crushing. There was no choice. If I didn’t end it now, I would wind up doing my part to spread this hideous infection. I couldn’t stand the thought of becoming part of whatever sick-ass experiment this was.
Grief. The very idea of the word seemed absurd to me now. Every one of my life’s little dramas and heartaches paled in comparison to the new weight on my slumping shoulders.
Surprisingly, I felt more grief that the truth I just tossed to the curb might never see the light of day.
Grief.
The metal of the gun barrel tasted like oil.
It dawned on me I should drag myself into view of one of the cameras. Get my death on record. Filmmakers need to see the reality of this, so they can shit can the lies. This was truth. This was horror.
An image of Sonja popped into my mind. We were filming on location on Belize. The film was The Last Voyage of Satan. The shoot was mid-summer, the location was paradise. Sonja spent most of her time in a bathing suit – much to the joy of nearly every member of the cast and crew. She was always so amazing. She had a beauty I could never confess of enjoying. I envied her, her sensuality. She never used it, but it was just a part of who she was. She was my muse. I should have told her that.
I was okay going out with that film in my mind.
Chapter 35
“Lindsay,” Gerand whispered through near-choking gasps as he and the elder statesman ran toward the headquarters building.
“You expect…me…to answer…you…at this…moment?”
Gerand grabbed Godwin’s arm and pulled him to a stop.
“We have to go back.”
“Where? There is nothing and no one to go back to.”
“Not the house, the lab.”
“Oh dear God in heaven, why?”
Gerand swallowed hard.
“I left my notes and the virus behind.”
With little more than a nod, Godwin did an about face and started walking back the way they came.
“What, no fight? You’re not going to try to convince me – ”
Godwin stopped, mid stride, and turned back to Gerand.
“My dear man, you are a scientist. Leaving your work behind is like a mother leaving a child. I fully understand and support your dilemma. Besides, if we are to convince those bastards we are on their side, your work will be of great necessity.”
With that, Godwin turned and walked.
“Now, if you would care to join me,” Godwin spoke louder than normal, “I would rather not face down those monsters on my own.”
Gerand caught up with Godwin and matched his stride.
“Do you have any family?” Godwin tossed the question into darkness.
“I do not.”
“I feel both envy and sorrow for you.”
“Why is that, sir?”
Godwin offered an out of place chuckle. “There is no need for that. You may call me Lindsay.”
Had the veil of night momentarily lifted, a gleaming smile would have been revealed on Gerand’s face.
“I feel envy as you do not have familial ties binding you to another heart. You do not have to concern yourself with anyone but yourself. I feel sorrow, for that very same reason. At this point in time, having family might be the one thing separating us from the monsters.”
“And that we don’t eat human brain.”
Another chuckle escaped Godwin.
“There is that, yes.”
The two men walked in silence for a moment. The distant sound of moaning shifted, ebbed, and flowed.
“So, Lindsay, how do you propose we get me away from Burgess and The Zero Day Collective?”
“As mad as this sounds, I believe that will be simple. Once Burgess believes his experiment is over, he’ll fly us all back to his headquarters. His grand scheme seems to include me and my quantum fusion work – so he knows he won’t be able to pull this off on a grand scale without me. That means his attention will be focused on the amplification of the virus. The majority of your work is complete, so you will exist on the periphery until you fade out of existence until – ”
“I don’t understand.” Gerand interrupted.
“You slip out the back door.”
“That’s it? That’s your grand plan? Just slip out the door while no one is looking?”
“Occam’s Razor,” Godwin said simply.
“Indeed.” Gerand offered no argument.
“Numquam ponenda est pluralitas sine necessitate.” Translate, Mr. Gerand.
“A plurality of causes should never be posited unless necessary.” Gerand spoke succinctly.
Godwin cleared his throat before asking, “In the more common parlance?”
“All things being equal, the simplest solution is most often the most logical choice.”
“Very well stated. Now that I know I can fully trust you, let us to your lab and your work.”
The two men continued on in silence.
The lab came into view.
“Oh dear. That is quite the tragedy,” Godwin spoke matter-of-factly.
Surrounding the lab looked to be a legion of the undead with cold, fleshy fists pounding on the walls. Thankfully, Burgess had the foresight to build each of the structures to withstand the apocalyptic forces of the experiment.
“Well, then, I hope you have an idea.”
Silence.
“Richard? Your thoughts?”
Godwin was, yet again, met with silence.
“Dr. Ger – ”
“Please, Lindsay, I’m thinking.”
Another silence drifted between the two men. The silence was utterly dismantled by the soul-crushing noise of the undead beat down not one hundred yards away.
Out of habit, Gerand stuffed his hands in his pockets. It was when the tips of his right fingers were jabbed with the pointed end of keys that the idea blindsided him.
“Of course.”
“Of course, what?” Godwin inquired.
“The vehicle. Follow me.”
Without explanation, Gerand took off running.
“Would you mind – ” Godwin began his demand.
“Just trust me!”
As the men neared the car, they were fortunate the zombie nation was too busy attempting to reach the intellect buffet within the lab. The vehicle was free and clear of the undead. That distraction allowed them to slip inside, and fire u
p the engine.
“What is your plan?”
“Bowling.”
“Excuse me? We don’t have time for – ”
Before Godwin could continue, Gerand turned the wheel and pointed the car in the direction of the lab.
“May I ask – ”
“Yes you may. My plan is simple; I am going to force this car through those bastards, line the driver’s side window up to the entry, roll down the window, open the lab door, sneak in, collect what I need, and return completely unscathed.”
Godwin gave the plan a brief moment of ‘cause and effect’.
“Dare I remind you, Richard, of the adage, ‘the best laid plans of mice and men?’
“No, Lindsay, you dare not. And until you devise a better plan, I’m going to keep driving.”
The front of the car inched closer to the mass of undead.
“May I make a suggestion?” Godwin begged.
“You may.”
“By my calculations, you are going to need much more speed than this. Judging from the number of zombies, once you start forcing your way through, they will stop you before the vehicle reaches its destination. You need,” Godwin glanced at the car’s speedometer, “at least another fifteen miles per hour.”
“Who am I to doubt the greatest physicist on the planet?” Gerand gave the gas pedal a nudge and the car lurched forward.
“That should just about do it.”
At the very moment the car reached the necessary speed, the hood came in contact with the first of the undead. The vehicle was unfazed.
“How did you manage to calculate that so quickly?” Gerand asked as he punched the gas again.
“I see things,” was Godwin’s blunt reply.
“You mean like, a savant?”
Before Godwin could reply, the car gave a groan. Gerand gave the gas another nudge, before the machine bogged down. The bump in power was just enough for the doors to line up. There wasn’t enough space between the car and the building for any of the horde to slip through. Gerand wasted no time, rolled down the window, and tapped out the pass code on the security pad.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
“Where would I go?” Godwin questioned with wide, frightened eyes.
When Gerand entered the lab, he hadn’t expected to be bombarded with questions. He shoved aside his guilt, plowed through the lab, and marched into his office. There was little time to spare. Fortunately, what he needed was all very conveniently within arm’s reach. He grabbed his messenger bag and placed the remaining vials of virus in the bottom. His research was all contained on a flash drive in his safe. When he opened the safe, he nearly laughed aloud as mercy and fate shined down on the moment. The sat phone.
He grabbed both the phone and the drive, tucked them neatly into the bag, and left the office. On his way out, he was met with even more questions. Gerand stopped at the door and turned.
“I’m going to force these bastards away from the door. The moment you see it clear, exit and run as far and as fast as you can.”
That was it. No explanation, no goodbyes, no good lucks. Gerand pulled the door open, slipped through the window, rolled the window up, gave a wink to Godwin, put the car in drive, and punched the gas. When the car jerked forward, zombies were crushed underneath and shoved aside. A quick glance in the rear view mirror brought a moment of relief – the assistants were spilling out of the lab. The make-shift plan had worked.
Of course, the assistants would have absolutely no where to go. The brief moment of freedom would be all they needed to survive until the bitter end.
“Richard, that was absolutely brilliant!” Godwin gave Gerand a slap on the shoulder. “The stuff of movies.”
The car took a soft right turn and began the short trek to the Zero Day Collective headquarters.
Chapter 36
The headquarters was awash in darkness.
“What happened? John, why is there no power?” The voice of L.A. Wenning scolded Burgess from across the room.
“It was the goddamn EMP pulse. They knocked out the power to keep us from locating them. What the hell?” Burgess tapped his tablet. “Is anything working?”
“My phone is completely dead,” Kriege replied.
Burgess stepped backwards and stumbled over a chair. Before taking another step he froze in place and sealed his eyes from the darkness. It was a trick he’d learned as a child. When his eyes had adjusted to the absolute lack of light, he’d be able to at least make out shapes and shafts of light. It only took a few seconds. When he opened his eyes, he could easily make his way around the room. The first stop was the board room closet. Tucked inside was a box of emergency supplies, including a flashlight and some candles.
His fingers groped in the blackness, grasped the handle of the door, and pulled it open. Within the closet, the darkness was too deep, even for his accustomed pupils. The lidded, plastic box was tucked off to the left side of the closet. Burgess groaned to kneeling and felt around. It took no time for his hands to find the box. Another great groan and he was erect. Burgess stepped away from the closet and back to the center of the room.
The lid of the box popped off easily. The flashlight stared up at John, its one great eye begging to be brought to life.
With his over-sized thumb, Burgess pressed the rubberized button.
Nothing.
“You’ve got to be kidding. These are new batteries. Come the fuck on!”
Burgess gave the light a clichéd shake.
Still nothing.
“John, what in the hell has happened? There’s no power, our phones aren’t working, and my watch has even stopped.”
“How in the fuck do you know your watch has stopped? You can’t see an inch in front of your face,” Burgess shouted.
“It’s a Luminox, you arrogant son of a bitch!” Kriege matched Burgess’ shout.
“Gentlemen, please. Wrapped in a blanket of pitch black is no time to compare your cocks,” L.A. Wenning demanded. “What would cause every electronic device in the building to stop working?”
Burgess fumbled his way to the front door and pulled it open. The first thing of note was the chorus of moans that spilled into the building. Beyond that was the complete absence of light from every building and street lamp.
“I believe we have a bigger problem. The entire town is without power.”
L.A. Wenning gasped. “You don’t think…”
“Think what?” Burgess requested.
“Could the undead cause a power outrage?”
“Well that’s just lunacy, Wenning. Those bastards can hardly walk a straight line. How in the fuck are they supposed to have the capacity to cause a power outage?” Burgess exploded.
“I don’t know, John, but all of a sudden everything has changed – completely. The dead won’t stay dead and no one knows who to really trust. So, could a zombie cause a village-wide power outage? The answer lies in the question itself. We’re talking about zombies that have crossed the threshold between the dead and the living – anything is possible. Hell, as far as I know, Frankenstein could walk through that door any minute. Jesus fuck, John.”
John’s eyes darted about the room. Embedded in the darkness, he could see the outlines of the bodies. As he stared on, his mind raced around the possible ways the scenario could play out. There really were only two choices: Stay or leave. If he stayed, what was the endgame? The primary goal was to see if the Mengele Virus could serve as a biological weapon. That point had already been proved; he had a town full of zombies to show for his time.
And that was the only real problem – the zombies weren’t dying off fast enough.
Before Burgess could wrap his racing mind around a conclusion, the sound of a car broke through the distant moans. John stared out the door; two headlights bounced into view and nearly blinded him in the process. The car plowed into one of the undead and the zombie exploded upon impact. When the rotting skin gave way, bits and shards flew about in all directions. Th
ere was something wrong with the scene – at best, the collision would have broken a zombie in half. Nothing had ever indicated the meat and bone would disintegrate when contacted with a moving vehicle.
Still…
The car slid to a halt in the grassy yard near the front entrance of the Zero Day Collective Headquarters. The driver’s side door slid open and Gerand stepped out.
“Doctor Gerand; am I glad to see – ”
“Shut up Burgess. We have to get out of here now. The walking dead are on their last legs and they know it. If it is at all possible for a zombie to get pissed – these are.”
“Dr. Godwin, are you – ”
“I’m fine Burgess. Gerand was correct. We must exit this town immediately.”
Silence.
“John…if you’re unsure about the experiment – we succeeded.” Gerand interrupted. “We discovered an EMP pulse would accelerate the decay process. The second we set off an EMP explosion, not only did every device in the town stop working, the flesh of the undead began a rapid decay process. On a small scale, we’ve won. Now, get us the hell out of here.”
John stepped back into the closet and rummaged for a small rip-stop bag. No one knew the contents of the bag, nor did they see the subtle wash of comfort overtake Burgess’ eyes.
“Follow me,” Burgess demanded.
“Where are we…”
“Don’t ask. Just follow.”
One by one, the members of the board and the remaining members of the science team stepped out of the building and followed John Burgess into the black of night. There were probably others alive, Randeep, Elizabeth Pente, Jennings, Thomas Dentworth, and others; but there was no time to search. Innocent lives would wind up casualties of science.
“Does anyone have a gun? If you do, pull it out, and be ready to pull the trigger.”
“John, please, where are we going?” L.A. Wenning demanded.
“To the rendezvous location; I’m about to hail us a ride out of here.”
In his hand, Burgess held a standard-issue flare gun. Without warning, he pulled the hammer back and fired. The brilliant red glow raced heavenward and exploded in the sky above them. A red glow softly illuminated the surrounding area.