“Dammit!” Jack cried, shaking his screen like an angry child.
Don chuckled. “Time’s ticking.”
Another view popped up that was closing in on the big man tossing away his shotgun and reaching for another. Jack was pounding his hand into his screen. “I think we lost sound. Damn. I wanted hear this big man scream!”
Don felt a chill as he watched the throng of zombies rush after the man.
CHAPTER 23
Institute, WV
Rod. He had been known as one of the biggest and baddest fighters on the Eastern Seaboard. For over 15 years he had fought in anything from a cage to a parking lot. Never once had he shown fear or shed a tear. He’d been known as the Black Python in the Octagon. He’d kicked like a mule and punched like a heavy weight. He was big, fast, fluid, and feared. He’d had that advantage over his opponents because they were living. This fight was different. His adversaries were dead.
He let off his last round, imploding the face of his latest attacker. It sagged to the ground as another stiff creature took its place, arms clutching at his neck. Two automatic pistols were blazing in his hands. The bullets punched into the bodies of the undead, slowing them a tad. Head shot! Head shot! Head shot! The rounds ricocheted from the metal foreheads as the relentless gang surged forward. Rod dove behind a counter and reloaded.
BLAM!
He caught one in the knee, sending it reeling to the ground.
“Yeah baby!”
Ka-Blam! Ka-Blam!
Two more dropped, but they were still crawling. The others were closing in from all directions.
He glanced at the window. Henry was gone. I’ve got to get out of here!
“Ugh!”
Something heavy slammed into him. The stench of the dead filled his nostrils. He fired a series of rounds over his shoulder, every bullet lethal. No effect. A zombie was biting into his suit, and another was pulling him down.
“NO!”
Fear assailed him. If bullets couldn’t stop his enemies, then what would?
“NO!”
Rod wasn’t going to die like this. He was the Black Python.
“NO!” He flipped the zombie from his back.
Octagon Legend.
“NO!” His boot crushed another’s jaw.
As anger coursed through his big body so did the adrenaline. He had started fighting when he was ten. 25 years of training hadn’t prepared him for a day like this … but it would have to do.
The zombies were fast. The zombies were strong … unyielding. But, the zombies couldn’t fight worth a shit.
“Come on, you dead bastards!”
A roundhouse kick sent one staggering to the floor.
“You can’t touch me!”
Two more crashed into each other as Rod jumped away. Another clutched at his neck. Rod snapped its wrist. He stuffed its fist inside its own mouth and swept its legs from underneath it. The zombies were writhing all around him now as he jumped, dodged, and dived. The zombies were inferior in size, average men, nowhere close to his height or weight. The death match was becoming a mismatch.
“Let go, you—urk!”
He cracked his head as he was pulled to the ground. Warm blood was seeping into his eyes and the hoard went into a frenzy. The mangled mass became a creeping doom. Rod twisted away from the clutches of two disabled zombies and dashed towards the stairwell. Two zombies cut off his path as they closed in.
“Damn!”
His chest was burning now. He scanned around in the dim light, looking for a weapon of any kind. He bolted into the security room, grabbed a chair, and slung it into the zombies. One toppled over. The other came on. Its fingers tried to tear off his mask. Rod snatched the monster up, hurled it into the others, and yelled.
Now one was hanging on his leg, biting into his ankle. It felt like his leg was in a vice. He screamed. Reaching down, he grabbed the back of its head and tore off its mask. He couldn’t see much in the darkness, but there was a skull. He ripped his hunting knife from his belt and plunged it into the back of its skull. He pulled it out just in time to thrust it under the chin of another. He lost his grip
“R-Rah!” he bellowed as he tore through the hoard and headed for the window. The zombie suit was the only thing saving him from being ripped to shreds. There must have been four hundred pounds of zombies tearing into him as he fought for every step. The window was only ten feet away. He could hear voices screaming from down below.
“I’M COMING!”
Like wild animals, the zombies clawed at him and bit into his suit. It held, but the skin and muscles underneath were getting torn. Rod’s body was on fire, and the pain was blinding. Sweat and blood seeped into his eyes. NO! I can’t die like this!
The window was only five feet away from his outstretched grasp.
“Gotta! … Keep! … Moving!”
He made another step, dragging a zombie like an angry child. He was so close now, but his body didn’t have the energy to make another step. Just one more step. Please Lord, give me the strength.
From down below they all gasped at the sight. Rod’s massive frame appeared in the window, clutching at the ledge. Henry shouted helplessly as the zombies covering the man began pulling him back in. The big man held on, his big gloved hands digging into the metal window pane.
“Come on, Rod!”
Henry thought he heard his friend say ‘Run’ as he was pulled back into the darkness.
CHAPTER 24
Location Unknown
Nate McDaniel’s life had been rebooted. New face. New clothes. New Job … WHS Security Squad. What a joke. He scratched his face. His once heavy beard was nice and trim with a touch of gray around the chin. In the mirror he tried making faces. He smiled and frowned. Made an angry face and chuckled at himself. He started to sing.
“Don’t talk stupid,” Walker said, combing his hair at the mirror by his side.
He still had that at least, the voice. Smooth as silk and sweeter than honey. That’s what Rose had said after they advanced their relationship several hours ago.
He followed Walker into the parking garage out of the strange building that he assumed had been his home for the past several months. His legs and face ached from the effort. Walking down the stairs winded him. He got into the passenger side of a slate gray sedan with a WHS logo on the side. The moment of eeriness passed as they pulled out of the garage and headed down the road. He thought about Rose’s sweet lips the entire car ride over. He still didn’t know where he left from for sure, but it wasn’t long before he knew exactly where he was. It was a place he had become quite fond of over the years: Washington, DC. Headquarters of the WHS and this year’s host of their Zombie Convention.
“Stay close to me. You’ve got all of the ID and credentials that you need. If someone says something to you, just nod or shake your head. Security is tight here.”
Nate wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and said in a gruff voice, “Okay.”
“Geez, that’s bad. You sound like the Hulk. But, I guess it will do.”
“Nate smash Walker,” Nate said, imitating the Incredible Hulk.
“Shad-dup.”
He rolled down his window and inhaled. The cool air was refreshing. The lights of the city and the nation’s Capitol were captivating. He loved it here. Of course, the WHS hadn’t given him much choice. Even if he could live somewhere else, he wasn’t so certain that he would. The exhilarating feeling of freedom and a new life was soon dimmed as an image of Christy Backwater was etched in his head. She had been gorgeous, seductive, and powerful. He could still feel her sticky blood on his hands. He rubbed his fingertips together. I can’t believe she was going to kill me. He coughed.
“I’m not putting my cigarette out, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” Walker said.
“Huh … no, I couldn’t care less. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind one, myself.”
“Is that so? Well, help yourself. Glove box.”
He grabbed a box of
Camel non-filters.
“They still make these things?”
“In some states.”
The smoke burned his lungs as he inhaled. He sighed with a heavy breath of smoke.
“Rose isn’t gonna like that. Doctor Z, either.”
“I guess they can transplant new lungs to go with my new face, then.”
“Yeah, good one.”
Solid country gold songs were playing on the radio as Nate watched the street signs he passed by. The music wasn’t as offensive as he used to think, more soothing than anything. He didn’t figure he should expect much better from a skinny hick like Walker anyway. After a few more songs played and his second cigarette was extinguished, he figured he needed a better idea of what he was getting into.
“Walker …”
The man came to a stop at a light and said, “I know what you’re thinking. What are you going to do when we get there?”
“Well yeah … What am I going to do when I get there?”
“Follow me. Stay close. Do as I do and say. We’re going to be among your old comrades of the WHS. Watch. Listen. Maybe we’ll learn something.”
It didn’t make any sense to him. They wouldn’t say anything in front of them. He knew them well enough to know that when they had something important on their minds they would dismiss themselves. Never once did they keep him around for the more important plans. He had tried several times to include himself, but he’d usually been met with a courteous “No.”
“I’m not a spy. I’m just some dude that got lucky, is all,” he confessed. “You know that, of course, and I’m sure you resent that.”
The car was moving again.
“I know that … but … man I hate to say this … the truth is, I believe that everybody is somebody. Even an over-glamorized fornicator like you.”
“Hey!”
“Heh-heh. You know it’s true. Besides, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t’ just like all the other men in the world that wanted to be you just for a day. The star of the century.”
“It’s a joke.”
“Maybe so, but you have a purpose. You stopped the zombies once. You can stop them again. It’s probably why you are here.”
“Great. So, why are you here, then? Have you figured it out yet?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m here to kill zombies.” Walker lit up another cigarette. “And the people that make zombies.”
“Sounds pretty simple. I save the world. You kill the zombies. Maybe we should come up with a name for ourselves,” Nate suggested.
“Well, the Dynamic Duo is taken. So is the Green Hornet and Kato.”
“Hawkman and smoking Hawkman.”
“Creampuff and Studman.”
“Milk and Honey.”
“Better yet, Big Guy and Little Guy.”
“The Undertaker …”
“… and Kane.” Nate finished. “I don’t even have a real name now, do I?”
Walker tossed him a thin wallet. Inside, there was an I.D. without a picture on it. It had a name, though.
“Rick Jones. Seriously.”
“It’s all that I could think of. I’m not exactly good with names.”
It wasn’t so bad. After all, Rick Jones was a hero of sorts. If not for him, there never would have been an Incredible Hulk. The tension between the two men had subsided. Even Walker’s stiff talk had loosened up. The man’s dry sense of humor had begun to grow on him.
“Nah, it’s good. It’s not as cool as Bruce Banner, but it’s still better than Clark Kent.”
“True. I almost used Chuck Jones.”
Nate’s brows perched as he nodded. He pulled down his vanity mirror and said, “I can see that, too.”
Men could easily find common ground with one another if they were willing to speak. Sports, comic books, movies, and video games were all part of their mental playground. The doubt inside his belly about the skinny man in black began to subside. Maybe Walker was on his side. Maybe it wasn’t all a hoax. Keep playing along.
“We’re almost to the convention center. WHS security is going to check you in. Show your ID. They scan it and your face.”
“My face?”
“Don’t worry. You’ve already been added into the database. Worst case scenario, we head back to the car … or die.”
“What?”
Walker showed him a thin-lipped smile as they pulled into the garage and said, “It’ll be okay. Besides, you’ve already died once.”
CHAPTER 25
Institute, WV
“Henry! Henry!”
Someone was screaming as he gawped at the window above.
“Get down here!”
He didn’t want to move, but someone was pulling him away. He resisted.
“He’s gone, Henry! Come on, Lover, we’ve got to move on!” Tori said, tears streaming from her eyes.
They both limped towards the ladder. Tori grunted with every step.
“You okay?”
“Just my ankle.
THUMP!
A zombie dropped from the window and crashed on top of the roof.
THUMP!
Another followed.
“Get down, Tori!” he said, looking down the ladder. Rudy and Weege were down below, shouting at him.
“BAWK! COME ON!” Rudy cried.
He spotted two 4-seater utility vehicles and Security Team One. They were all waving him on. The moans behind him became even louder as one zombie rose to its feet in pursuit.
“GERONIMO!”
One of the biggest men he ever knew was jumping from the window. A sickening crunch followed as Rod landed on top of the zombie. Henry rushed over and pulled the man up from the ground. The other zombie was crawling, dragging its busted legs behind it. Henry kicked away its outstretched hand. As the pair of men stumbled to the ladder, the zombies began jumping from the windows like the building was on fire. Henry watched in awe as Rod slid down on the outer rails of the fire escape.
“MOVE, HENRY!”
Rod caught him as he leaped down the last ten feet.
“OW!”
“You’ll be okay,” Rod said, dragging him towards the awaiting vehicles.
“Thank God you’re alive!” Henry exclaimed.
Rod didn’t reply as he looked upward. Tori, Weege and Rudy were screaming. The zombies were scrambling off the top of the roof.
Rod shouted, “Get us out of here, Doug!!”
“Where? There’s nowhere to go!”
“Just go! We’ll think of something on the way.”
The Gators sped off.
Doug, Henry, Rod, and another security member were in one Gator. The Weege, Rudy, and Tori were being driven by another member. Everyone had pulled the mesh masks up from their faces. Henry almost enjoyed the cold air on his as they sped through the thick fog.
The complex had the feeling of a haunted village now. The contours of the buildings were distorted, and the blacktopped roads were hidden. All of the lampposts that littered the compound were dark, and most of the emergency lights were dim. Henry tapped Doug the driver on the shoulder.
“Stop. Let’s regroup.”
The other Gator pulled along their side. Every face was wide-eyed with horror. They were beside a small chapel that was covered in ivy. A small cemetery was nearby. Rudy retched over the side of the ATV as Tori climbed over into the seat beside Henry. Everyone was looking back and forth at one another with heads craning for any sounds of pursuit.
Weege was the first to speak.
“We have to find the director and Alice, Henry. They’ll know what to do. Let’s go to his quadrant.”
Doug was loading shells into his shotgun as he said, “Nope. We checked, or at least the other guys did. They’re either sealed up somewhere or on the run. Probably dead.”
It didn’t seem likely to Henry. Alice had to have been in on something. His gut told him that much. With so many personnel at the Zombie Conference, it didn’t seem likely that they’d leave the director behind, un
less they wanted him gone as well. As for Alice, she was too much of a suck-up to be black listed. If anyone knew what was going on, he was certain that she would. In the meantime, he had to find a way out of this trap.
“Anybody have any ideas?” he said, looking around.
“More ammo. We couldn’t check the munitions depot. They might have heavier stuff in there,” one security man said.
“Some armor-piercing rounds would be nice. It’s the only thing that’ll bust through those metal skulls. Man! What’s going on here, Henry? Somebody let those zombies loose … didn’t they?” Rod said, letting out a painful groan.
“You okay?” Tori asked.
“I’m torn up. Busted bones.” Rod pulled off his mask and spit blood. “I’m still a man, though.”
Henry put his hand on the man’s shoulder and said, “Rod … everyone … I can’t say what’s going on, but it looks like the WHS is up to its dirty tricks.”
“What do you mean?” one guard asked.
“Without getting into detail, I have knowledge of experiments of theirs. There’s a formula that was supposed to cure the zombies, but instead it just sped them up. They were testing it on children, but now they’ve moved on to adults. I think they are making zombie soldiers.” He ran his fingers back through his hair. “And their first war is with us. A bunch of nobodies. Casualties of the greater good, I’d assume.”
There was silence. Only the chirping of nature’s creatures remained. Henry felt like he had sucked the hope from each and every one of them. Every face was sweaty and drained. Even his own hands were trembling. He started to continue, but Rod’s powerful voice cut him off.
“I’m not dying for nothing. I’m not a victim. If it’s a fight they want, it’s a fight I’ll give them.” The man was looking at the cross on the roof of the small church. Rod groaned as he left the Gator and said, “Everybody gather around … I want to say something.”
Zombie Rehab Page 11