The lights in the tank dulled, but the fingers still moved.
“Is she dead?” Leekasha asked.
“No, I don’t think so. I’d feel it if she died.”
“You feel her?”
“Yes, it’s how we communicated before. When they held me here, I never got to see her face to face, but I could sense her. Just a feeling, but I knew she was here. They all did, years ago. It’s why they all came to this place, before the Pacize drug, when zombies were everywhere. You don’t feel her?”
“I just feel creeped out, like something’s going to jump out of the shadows and grab me. Is that what you feel?”
“No, not really. A little scary maybe, but not evil scary, just confused scary. Like you’re unsure of which way to go. You’ll get used to it.”
“Used to it? No, I don’t think so. I’m not coming back here again.”
“You won’t have to,” Christa smiled. “She’ll remember you now, she’ll find you wherever you are.”
Leekasha closed her eyes and shook her head. “Great, more nightmares to keep me awake at night.”
They walked out the lab doors and back towards the elevator.
“You have to go there now. Out into the world,” Christa said.
“Why would you say that?”
“She said Andreas was the last. The last of the mutations. You’re going to be the best chance we have at reviving the others. Those others that Andreas and you revived from the plant are dumber than posts. Something was wrong with them. They’re actually regressing.”
“Yes, I know, I heard.”
“I can’t help the others,” Christa said regretfully. “I can’t control others once they come out. It has to be you. You’re stronger than I am. Your abilities are still improving and getting stronger.”
“They just need to stop using the drug. I thought Montgomery was coming up with something better with what she learned from us.”
“We can’t wait for Montgomery. Even if she’s successful, the government will stall things for who knows how long. I want you to try as well. The more of us working on fixing this, the better.”
Nobody Cares
The hell with them all, thought Leekasha as she made her way down the road. They said I could go. Chambers said I was free to go whenever I want. Christa seems to think I should get out here and help the other zombies, because no one else will. My people … ha! I’m a kid from Richmond, Virginia. So, I may have all these abilities, so I was a zombie for a while. I don’t remember killing anyone as a zombie, so I was probably a better person back then. Maybe being under the drug wasn’t so bad. Sure, it hurt like hell. All I remember is the pain, but at least I wasn’t hurting anyone else. That’s gotta count for something. Now, there’s all this pressure to do the right thing. Christa wants me to do the right thing. Montgomery just wants me to stick around, get poked with needles and answer a bunch of physiological questions. Who knows what that bastard Chambers wants. Warmongers. He’s probably just pissed he doesn’t have another war to fight. That’s all soldiers are good for. Maybe it’s better this way, with all the freaks under the drugs. No one calls them that much anymore, and it does feel dirty calling them that. I probably shouldn’t. And now Patzy. What was that? If anyone was a freak, she was. She’s an encyclopedia of nightmares that I just can’t get out of my head. Ever since Christa took me down there, I feel like someone’s following me. This change of scenery will do me good.
Leekasha walked down the side of the entrance ramp to highway 64-E and past the sign that said Motorized Vehicles Only. She stood along the side of the road, within inches of the cars whizzing past. She mentally touched each driver as they got closer, veering them a little closer to her side of the road, with their tires almost in the gravel. Then, just before they struck her, she inched the drivers’ hands a touch to the left so they skirted around her. She spread her feet a little further apart to brace against the wind rush of cars at highways speed. It made her feel alive. Little spikes of adrenaline coursed through her every time the cars zoomed by. The transport trucks even more so. She learned early on playing this game that truckers needed a little more time to veer away from her. That’s OK, she thought. All part of the game. Now, if only I could find the right car.
Leekasha played her game for a little longer, watching the transports and utilitarian minivans racing by. They were all so bland and boring. None of them caught her attention. Then she spotted the one. A late model candy-apple-red Mercedes SLK with gull wing doors approached. Leekasha didn’t know the make, model, or price of the car. She just knew what she liked. She stepped into the middle of the near lane and mentally directed all the drivers for several miles to change into the far lanes. All of them changed lanes simultaneously but miraculously there were no accidents. The cars all sped up or slowed appropriately to facilitate the multi-car lane merge. All the cars except for the candy-red SLK. It actually sped up and raced straight for Leekasha. She could sense the apprehension of the driver, an older gentleman with his wife sitting next to him. Their hearts raced the closer they came to Leekasha, but still the driver’s foot put more pressure on the accelerator. I could just let them keep coming, Leekasha thought. It would be a spectacular way to go. If it actually killed me, that is. I assume it would, but hey, with what I’m capable of, who knows.
She could feel the beads of sweat on the driver’s forehead. She could hear his wife’s screams in his ears. She could feel him struggle to move his foot from the gas to the brake, but she held it there for just a little longer. It looks so pretty moving that fast. That’s a really cool car. The car passed the point of safe stopping distance for most average vehicles when Leekasha released control of the driver’s foot, but not his hands. There’s no swerving out of the way, she thought. That would be cheating. Besides, you’d likely ruin my new car.
Unable to swerve out of the way, the driver slammed both feet onto the brake. German engineering is a thing of beauty. Mercedes SLKs are not only gorgeous to look at, they also have German engineering up the wazoo which makes them incredibly functional. Leekasha walked towards the car as it screeched to a halt. Its front bumper stopped just inches away from her knees as she bent at the waist to look through the front windshield.
“Hi,” she said as she waved to the driver and his passenger. “Oops,” she said. “This is only a two-seater. Where am I going to sit?”
The driver and his wife were breathing heavily, in a state of shock. They didn’t answer.
“I’ll tell you guys what. You two look like such a cute couple I’d hate to split you up. How about you two just get out, and we’ll switch cars.”
They all stood by the side of the road, with the Mercedes parked in the middle of the road. The couple huddled together a distance from Leekasha. Leekasha watched for a while, watching the other cars racing by until she found the one she wanted. A nice safe Volvo SUV with a single young male driver at the wheel. She had the driver pull into the other lane and stop right behind the Mercedes.
“Perfect,” Leekasha said as she directed everyone to switch vehicles. None of them said a word as they moved to their assigned vehicles. They acted as if the whole thing was their idea.
Leekasha smiled at her driver as they tore down the road, leaving the Volvo behind to merge in with the rest of the daily traffic.
***
Eleven hours’ driving to Virginia Beach was not so bad when you had the right car and the right company. Leekasha had both. Conversation wasn’t much as there really wasn’t any the entire trip. What’s the point of conversation when you can just rummage around in someone’s head. It’s kind of nice to be able to skip past all the lies and false pretenses and find out what someone is really like. I could have used this in a few of my past relationships, Leekasha thought.
Leekasha had her temporary chauffeur drive the car down the boardwalk and onto the beach. No one gave them a second look, and the beach patrol never flinched as people scattered out of their way. Leekasha leaned over an
d planted a kiss on the cheek of her driver, and said, “Just wait here for me and grab some shut-eye. I’ll be back in a few hours for our return trip.”
Leekasha proceeded to stroll down the beach. It wasn’t too crowded considering it was the weekend and tourist season. It sure is nice to just get away from all the crap around that place. I really needed this. I remember skipping high school classes and hanging out here with friends when the weather was good. Only got caught a few times too.
Leekasha kicked off her shoes and took in the view. Cabanas and umbrellas dotted the beach, and the usual smell of food vendors on the boardwalk filled the air. The sea breeze blew most of the smell of the food vendors’ carts in the other direction, but occasionally she’d get the smell of spicy sausages, mustard and soft pretzels. It’s surprising how normal all this seems. Christa and that freak Patzy were right. I do need to get out in the real world more often. It’s not so bad.
Then the screams hit her. Voices from the not so distant past. Two zombie garbage collectors driving a golf cart with dune buggy wheels down the beach. Nobody paid much attention to them, except the two teenage boys that threw their empty soda containers at their cart as they drove by. The cans bounced off and into the sand. The garbage collectors stopped, picked up their cans and drove away. The screaming subsided in Leekasha’s brain, but no one else seemed to even notice their arrival or departure. Even the teenage boys seemed indifferent to the zombies.
Leekasha remembered the indifference, and worse. She remembered the times she had worked incinerating zombie corpses on Captain Willie’s old shrimp boat. Indifference would have been a relief on that boat. Instead she endured constant beatings and abuse simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She remembered one time he pushed her from the deck into the hold, cracking her skull as she hit. That physical scar had long since healed, but the memory hadn’t. As she walked by the two teenage boys, she saw them showing off by rough housing in front of a few girls. It didn’t take much effort on her part as she planted the notion in their heads that they were standing in front of a urinal and needed to relieve themselves. The look of laughter on the girls’ faces, and the embarrassment on the boys’ as urine ran down their legs evened the score enough for Leekasha.
She spent the next few hours walking the beach and enjoying the views. Every once in a while she encouraged a beachgoer to give up their cabana for a few minutes so Leekasha could get out of the sun and have a nap. Some even left sandwiches and drinks for her as they waited for her to finish. The last one even left a mobile tablet for her to use. How nice of them, she thought. Scrolling through the news feeds brought the usual stories. Some and such celebrity was in trouble for sleeping with another celebrity they weren’t married to. One story caught her eye about an accident at a chemical plant a few towns away. The video showed the building burning in the background, with some news reporter going on about what caused the explosion and how lucky they were that there were no casualties caused by the accident. A related story, but with a smaller headline, indicated nearby residents were concerned about the thirty-five or so zombies that were incinerated in the fire. The residents were concerned that the air would now be contaminated, and were insisting that the factory grounds be sterilized by land reclamation crews. Another side story cited concerns over fear of environmental damage from zombie corpses not disposed of according to official government standards.
What the hell? Zombies don’t count as casualties, and now all of a sudden our corpses are considered an environmental hazard? I suppose that shouldn’t come as too much of a shock considering my previous occupation. That’s unbelievable. It’s one thing to stick all the zombies with the jobs nobody wants, but to treat them no different than chemical waste is a whole other level of disgusting. We didn’t ask to mutate. It just happened to us. It’s not like we chose this for ourselves. What a waste. They’re not just garbage. Some of them could have mutated like me, with all these amazing abilities. What gives these people the right to treat us as cheap collateral damage? That’s just not right.
Changing the Rules
Christa couldn’t help but be excited about the news.
“It’s really too early to get excited about this, Christa, but I understand your enthusiasm,” Dr. Montgomery said.
“C’mon, Doc, don’t be such a pessimist about all this. I know you’re all scientific about this and you need more testing, but this is really fantastic news.”
“Yes, Christa, it is, but you have to understand. Even if the research proves itself out, and we’re able to complete successful patient trials, the political pressure will be huge to overcome.”
“This is a real game changer though, Doctor. You’ve found a way to distinguish between the violent zombies and the evolved ones like myself and Leekasha.”
“Don’t forget about Andreas now. Others won’t when the idea of this drug gets out. A lot of my colleagues won’t be happy with me. This is not a popular field of research to be pursuing these days. I’ve already had a few of my staff quit or ask for transfers.”
“New ideas are never well accepted. You know that. I understand it’ll take time, but surely they’ll have to see the advantages. Just look at Leekasha and what she’s capable of. Her mind control, her healing abilities, and her accelerated learning are just a few. She’s progressed at a remarkable rate. Surely the regent will see the huge advantages zombies like that represent. It's too much of an opportunity to squander..”
“Christa, do I need to remind you how this government works? You remember Kongod, right? That computer the size of the planet that makes all the decisions.”
“It doesn’t make decisions, that’s the regent’s job.”
“Right, of course. Kongod just measures the will of the people on all matters and provides a list of acceptable answers to the regent, who decides.”
“So obviously the regent will see this drug is capable of only controlling the dangerous zombies. We can then free the others from Pacize. The ones that are really suffering on the inside. They can help society, they can make this an even better place to live.”
Dr. Montgomery laughed. “I think you overestimate the value of the regent. Sure, the position was created to give people the illusion of human control, but that’s all it really is … an illusion. At least, that’s the way I see it. If the regent picks against the people’s will, Kongod can select a new regent. One based on the will of the people, of course. It’s all about what Kongod offers, which everyone believes is controlled by the people.”
“You don’t believe that’s true, Doctor?”
“Well, I have no evidence to the contrary. I suppose I do believe it’s the will of the people truly running the country. Back to my original answer though, it’s not the regent or my bosses you have to convince of the value of this new drug, it’s the people. And I have to tell you, the people can be a pretty fickle bunch. They have a reputation for short-term memory and subjective decision making.”
The lab door opened and a slightly tanned Leekasha entered.
“Well, look who’s back from her day at the beach,” Dr. Montgomery said.
“How do you know where I was?” Leekasha asked.
“Don’t assume that just because the general has given up trying to control your whereabouts he doesn’t have eyes watching you. There are spies everywhere these days, my dear,” Montgomery answered.
“Whatever. That’s not why I am here. Christa, have you heard about this new zombie trade being discussed?”
“What are you talking about? Nobody trades zombies. We’re not commodities.”
“Maybe you and I aren’t, locked away down here, but it’s true. Europe and Asia are looking to get into the zombie and Pacize drug business.”
Christa looked to Dr. Montgomery. “Doc, set her straight. I think her brain got a little fried from too much beach sun.”
“No, Christa, actually, she’s right. This has been coming for a while. It’s been in our high-level security briefi
ngs for the past few months. I’m actually surprised it took this long to go public.”
Christa took a seat. “I don’t understand. This sounds nuts.”
“What it means,” Dr. Montgomery explained, “is that international economic bodies have been talking about the unfair advantage zombies give the Americas in terms of infrastructure and economic competition. They’ve noticed how quickly we rebounded from the wars, and that we’re now surpassing them in terms of finances and technology. Our standard of living is moving up at such a pace that everyone’s envious. They want in on it. They want zombies of their own, and right now they’re willing to pay for it.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. You can’t turn zombies into commodities. They’re living, breathing beings … sort of.”
“Yeah,” General Chambers said as he walked into the room. “Living and breathing might be a stretch. More like monsters that terrorized this continent and put us on the verge of extinction not so long ago. People haven’t forgotten that. There’s no love lost for what your people represent,” he said, looking at both Christa and Leekasha.
Dr. Montgomery added, “That’s one of the things I was talking about, Christa. The political will coming from overseas to make this happen will be huge. This new drug that targets only a small population of zombies will reduce the supply of zombies for exporting.”
“Supply!” Leekasha said. “We’re not a supply … we’re not objects for trading.”
“You may not think so,” Chambers interjected, “but I can assure you, the international people pushing for these agreements think you are. Unless they start some kind of breeding programs to increase the zombie population, cutting into their ‘supply’ will be a pretty hard sell.”
Rising: Parables From The Apocalypse - Dystopian Fiction Page 2