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Zombie Rush 3

Page 16

by Joseph Hansen


  Then came the shadow in the park that followed her that final evening. Slow, deliberate, stalking … causing her to ready her phone for a call to the police before a gentle recognizable voice rang out.

  "Jezebel, is that you?"

  "It's me, who are you?" she asked the shadow while still holding onto her phone, unsure of who she was encountering. His voice was strong but with a gentle protective quality that almost sounded rehearsed.

  "It's Dr. Webber, from the clinic … how are you?"

  "Oh Doctor Webber, thank god. I swear I am losing my mind. I … I don't know what I was thinking. It's nice to see you, sir. What brings you into this part of the world?"

  "Enough with the 'sir' business; I grew up in Benton," he lied. "I come down here now and again to see friends and walk the neighborhood. Listen, are you okay? You look pretty stressed out and ..."

  "No, I'm … I'm fine. I just thought that ..." She paused, wondering what she could say to get out of it, when it dawned on her that he was, after all, her doctor and something was going wrong within her. "No, in all honesty, something isn't right. Do you know a good psychiatrist? I have been having some mental things lately and I think I need to talk to someone about them."

  "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Yes, I have several doctors that I could recommend who have made remarkable strides in their field. You have to call the clinic tomorrow, unless it's an emergency, then you call the 24-hour hotline. Of course if it's a real emergency, I'm right here and you can always talk to me. You are my patient and all of the confidentiality rules still apply," Web said, seeming to gain trust from the woman with every word spoken. He smiled reassuringly, displaying his concern for her well-being in a genuine fashion, which she melted into.

  "Tell me when you started having these issues while I give you a ride home. My car is right over there," Web said invitingly.

  "A car, huh? Hmmm … I guess as long as your wife won't mind."

  "I'm not married."

  "Oh, cool … can we stop at a store quick?"

  "Of course," he said as he pulled a gun out from behind his back.

  She looked at the gun with fear before he commented.

  "Don't worry, I have a permit. I just don't like to sit on it in the car so I stash it in the door. I've had some issues walking in the past so I stay protected. You never know what kind of looneys you're going to meet out here these days."

  She relaxed and smiled. "I want to get my permit with all of the walking I do. I've been lucky up until now."

  "I think you should," Web said with a smile, silently thanking her for that tidbit about being unarmed. "Let me ask you something, Jezebel. Did you start having these issues between six to eight months after your procedure at the Surgery Center?" Webber asked and Jezebel did some calculations in her head.

  "Yes, actually. About six and a half months to be exact, why?"

  "Damn it! Are we talking memory lapses, seeing things that aren't really there, even strange scents?"

  "Oh my god, Doctor, what's going on?" she asked as she gently but firmly grabbed his muscled forearm and feeling a connection or an electricity calming her.

  "We were using a drug that had been misrepresented to us as to what its side effects could be. I have a small shop set up across town where we could find out. I usually take care of some friends and relatives there on the down-low so to speak, so you wouldn't have to pay for my services. It is a simple blood test that would let us know in fifteen minutes whether or not it is the cause."

  "I have nothing else going on, so why not?" Jezebel said, warming to the thought of spending a little more time with the single doctor and possibly getting her issues resolved at the same time. "Are you gay?"

  "No, dear, I am not gay," Web said with a relaxed chuckle, knowing that he owned her lock, stock, and barrel.

  "That's good to know." She smiled, almost purring with pleasure at how her fate had changed. She kept her smile up to the point where her one arm was lashed to the arm of the chair. The erection through his jeans alerted her that this was more than a simple blood test. She wondered why he didn't just ask first because she would have been willing.

  It wasn't until he brought out a tray of scalpels that she realized how permanent and final her fate had become. This wasn't a private clinic in a windowless steel building where he helped people for free in his spare time. It was his private torture chamber where he enacted his lust-filled urges; he was the Skinner and she fell right into his lap.

  Her terror was delicious throughout the whole process and Web congratulated himself for making the right choice. When Jezebel first came to the center, she came with a friend named Ethel who was just as beautiful but different. Tougher and more attitude, Ethel was not a good choice for his extracurricular exercises.

  "Ethel, why did he call you Kodiak? Kodiak is a bear. Ethel, you're not a bear," Web said tauntingly as they rode in the APC back to the compound, his hands tied behind his back with zip ties.

  "You got nothing to say; I know what you are and what you did."

  "What I did? I helped you achieve that perfect body you now have," Web said and felt the large man at the other end of the vehicle shift position. There was the black chick to his left and the big man with a boy, who the doctor assumed was his son, on the other side. There were also his other victims, who stared at him, trying to burn into him with their eyes right where he sat. All the while he was careful to not allow his arms to shift as his thumbs worked away at the top of his jeans behind his back.

  "Oh, are you talking about Jezebel? I got to know her pretty well over a few month period before we met one night in the park. She turned out to be some of my best work. I will remember her fondly." Web kept his tone conversational, struggling to keep the layer of sarcasm right below the surface from shining through.

  "Like I said, you got nothin' to say, so just shut your stupid mouth and you might survive getting back to the compound," Kodiak said.

  Web smiled before adding, "I'm going to wreck your body too, just like I did hers."

  "Hey now, that will en—" Sharon didn't get to finish before Dean slammed his huge fist into the doctor's mouth. Web looked at him as if he wanted to say something but somehow knew he would appear to be nothing more than a petulant child compared to the big man. His son sat behind him, smiling mockingly as Web looked at the man with what could only be described as fear.

  "You'll shut yer mouth from here on out or you'll be chokin on teeth. Are ya feelin me, bro?" Webber nodded his reply. "Good; you got nothing worth hearing. Your time has come and gone, so just shut yer mouth and take your medicine." Dean went back and sat down, glaring at whatever was in his line of sight.

  The vehicle pulled around and parked once it was inside the compound. The soldiers exited first before Dean dragged his prisoner out and slammed him up against the personnel carrier, causing Web to almost lose the tool that he had worked loose from the fabric of his jeans. Now he had to simply work the zip tie within range of the tiny blade. He looked out and saw the little blond shooter who had almost gotten him on a couple of occasions walking toward the group. Farther behind her was Ally, who walked toward them with a definite purpose. Storm clouds crested her brow as a group of dogs followed in her wake, her gun held point down. Web watched as Benson talked to an officer of some type while the soldiers relaxed and Web's refugees looked around the compound with amazed eyes.

  Even Dean drifted lazily away to watch things from a distance, his son with him, leaving Kodiak alone in close proximity to him. A dog following behind Ally broke away at a familiar scent and Web smiled as it approached ahead of the rest of the group, just as the cop broke away from the colonel in what appeared to be a not-so-friendly debate. The colonel signaled and the soldiers gravitated toward him. As the whole ensemble in front of the doctor seemed to be in motion, the good doctor decided that it was time.

  #

  Benson didn't like the way things were suddenly playing out. Soldiers were sliding through his field of vis
ion to the prisoner as Cat walked backwards in front of Ally, who was storming toward Webber with murder in her eyes. The big dumb mastiff was running toward Web like he was going to jump on him and Benson remembered there was some kind of connection between that dog and the doctor but he … It was too late by the time he remembered.

  Webber's hand flew out from behind his back and slashed something across Kodiak's face, who pulled away as blood started to seep out. Cat was too close, Benson realized, when he went for his gun to shoot the murderer.

  Web grabbed Cat from behind and pulled a revolver out from her holster as he shouted a sharp command at the giant dog, who turned. The dog was on Benson before he knew it, his gun flying from his hand. Massive teeth sank into the thick part of his thigh and he was being shaken like a garden rabbit caught by a terrier. He could feel his hip shaking loose as the canine teeth inched closer and closer to his femur, tearing into and through the massive muscle. Benson screamed as he heard the shot.

  #

  Cat was walking backwards, her hands out trying to stop Ally from doing what Cat knew she planned on doing. She saw the gun come up in her hands just as she was grabbed around her neck from behind. Her hands instinctively flew to her throat and she felt the telltale pull of the Python being jerked from her drop-leg holster. The .45 fired right in front of her, hitting Ally in the chest and spraying her friend's blood all over her face.

  His arm swung and Sharon dove to the side, allowing the bullet intended for her to skim off of her leg as she scrambled to get behind something, but it didn't matter. Web was trying to take out as many as he could so his arm continued its swing until it landed on the big man who was moving toward the dog that attacked the cop. He fired but missed as his peripheral vision saw the kid level his shotgun at him. He fired again, this time at the kid only to find the gun was empty. It caused the kid to flinch enough to drag Cat around to shove between them and stop his shot, and then he was sliding low and to the right.

  #

  Dean plunged Shaaka into the side of the mastiff, the force of which caused the dog to be lifted up and off the man, piercing his heart and killing Sedge instantly. The happy-go-lucky mastiff, whose personality had been twisted into something cold and evil … died.

  Dean felt the wind of the bullet whizzing by his head and he screamed for Charlie to get down as he realized the doctor had found a gun. He turned to take the next round head on and smiled at Web's empty revolver. Dean was still too far away when Web took off away from the commotion of Kodiak trying to hold her cheek together and stay away from Web at the same time. A girl was bleeding out and the cop writhed on the ground in pain. Dean threw the Shaaka buckler in hope that he would get lucky and managed to hit the elbow of the doctor, forcing him to drop the revolver.

  Web spun and looked at Dean with hate, but also something else; something the good doctor had never felt before. Once he was in the shadows of the crane, he was as good as gone. Web lived in the shadows; he was one with them and he would be back soon with a whole new list of targets.

  Dean picked up the buckler and the revolver before going back to Kodiak and pulling her face up to his eyes so he could see. He saw the straight-edged blade still embedded in her cheek and understood what went down. He would see Web again and when he did … there would be no prisoners.

  "You're still going to be gorgeous, you know."

  "I fucked up, Dean."

  "Relax, this isn't your fault."

  "Yes it is. I should have killed him. like Lisa told us to. Instead, that poor girl is dead." She looked at the girl bleeding out as her friend whose gun was stolen tried to help her. "It's my fault that he's over there with his leg half chewed off and it's my fault that you had to kill that dog before he did more damage. This is all on me, Dean."

  "You can't blame all of this on yourself; he's an evil man who still had resources we didn't find or know about. You got him and nobody even came close to that before. Be proud," Dean said.

  "Fuck that, Dean. I'm going after him when I'm done at the hospital. I'm going to kill my old plastic surgeon before I hire another," Kodiak said as she pushed Dean's hands away and stalked off toward the hospital.

  Dean looked at Charlie with a hopeless cast to his face. Charlie gave him a smirk, knowing verbatim what was on his dad's mind and all it did was strengthen the love that he now felt for the man.

  "Take care of her," Dean said to his son.

  "I will; make sure he's dead this time."

  "I will."

  "Want the shotgun?"

  "No, it's the only thing I have to give you. That's yours and I hope it leads you to a long life. I'm better off with just Shaaka."

  "It will lead me to a long life—with you. Here, take this. It isn't much, but shopping at the mall these days is murder," Charlie said, not realizing that it was his first joke with his old man; the man he had hated … until the world died.

  "That's a nice boot knife, Charlie. Where did you get that?"

  "Off a dead biker," Charlie said, his smile broadening. He glanced at Kodiak and made to go after her, but sidestepped and wrapped his dad in as big of a bear hug as he could manage.

  "Thanks for coming to get me that day I was trapped on the roof."

  "My pleasure, Charlie, it was truly my pleasure," Dean replied before he turned and walked toward the storage containers that made up the outside perimeter of the compound.

  *

  Webber climbed down one of the container ladders and slipped behind a front-end loader that was moving bodies, avoiding the few it had missed. He rushed across the street and looked behind him to see how close the pursuit was. To his surprise and somewhat disappointment, there was none. His miraculous escape drew absolutely no attention. Even the zombies were walking by him as if he no longer existed—not realizing three- or four-day-old dead eyes were now mostly blind. Motion and extreme distances of light, but they mainly relied on sound.

  Something drew his attention back to the compound. Nothing visual, as everything was as it had been just a second before but there was a change … somehow.

  He watched as a figure slowly stood up on the outside of the compound wall, his eyes locked on Web as if he knew where the doctor was all along. Half of his face was illuminated from the compound behind, giving an almost comic book texture as he tapped the end of his cursed spear on top of the empty container regardless of the zombies it attracted. Does he know no fear?

  His long coat whipped behind him, exposing his massive body. Straight and tall, he cast a shadow all the way across the street that almost touched Web's toe, causing him to step back further into the alley to avoid the hateful touch of his shadow.

  Their eyes locked from across the street and Web could see the steely determination in his gaze. Webber felt like the petulant child whose hidey hole had been found by his disciplinarian father, and Dean laughed loudly—a deep rolling laughed that made Web feel like nothing more than a cat's toy.

  Dean's coat flew up behind him like a cape, creating the image of a wraith or avenging angel as he dropped the eight feet to the ground, landing solidly and brushing off Z's as if they were a non-factor. His oversized steel-toed boots slapping the ground so decisively, Web thought he could feel it vibrate from the impact. Ignoring everything around him, Dean took long purposeful strides toward the cannibal, causing Web to wonder why he was still standing there. He felt it was right, like he should stand there and take his medicine, but he knew he couldn’t do that, not now, not yet.

  Halfway across the street, Dean raised his spear to ready it for a throw at the figure who seemed to be locked in place. Dean didn't know why he just stood there, Dean didn't really give a fuck why, all he knew was that the little fucker had to die.

  With an involuntary squeak and more than a little urine on his leg, Web turned and ran.

  Dean laughed again but never changed pace, his determination was as constant as his pace. He would be relentless in his pursuit and make sure that the doctor felt a little of the fear
that he had caused for so many others.

  "I'm coming for you, Doc. I own your ass now. Deano's got a belt with your name on it, Doc. I 'm going to turn you over my knee like the snot-nosed brat that you are," Dean shouted at the form that disappeared around a distant corner. And Dean laughed some more.

  Web ran, holding his injured elbow with a mental picture of his adult-featured, kid-sized body draped over the knee of an oversized trucker. Suddenly fear wasn't all that delicious, and panic started to take over.

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  Other authors under the shield

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