Detroit Reanimated

by Michael Halliday

  Cover by Adrijus Guscia

  Edited by Richard McDowell

  Digital Edition

  Copyright © 2012 by Michael Halliday

  All rights reserved

  Chapter 1: Beginning to an End

  Evan was thankful that the trip to Phoenix wasn’t as chaotic as he originally feared. The temperature was oppressive compared to that of his home of Detroit, Michigan. It was his first invitation to CenturyCon at the Phoenix Convention Center, which was a high tech structure in the heart of the city. It was the second time he attended the convention, but the first time was when it was held in Tucson, and he just a fan at the time.

  Playing loudly through the music player on his phone was one of Evan's favorite bands. Led Zeppelin's ‘Good Times, Bad Times’ played and his head bobbed along with the tune. When he arrived at his hotel room, it was comfortably air conditioned compared to the 110 degree dry heat outdoors.

  Sitting on his bed, he had begun to work on preparations for his presentation on his laptop. Further down the bed lay an open copy of his award-winning comic ‘Hero/Villain.’ He enjoyed attending these conventions, with all the craziness and controlled chaos that surrounded the popularity of the genre. He wasn’t paying attention to the local news cast that had been reporting live at the convention center.

  Evan Carter was a twenty-seven-year-old who always loved comics. ‘The Uncanny X-Men’ brought back memories of skipping classes while in high school to go to the local comic store to buy the newest issue. It was his fate to become a comic book writer someday. Evan was raised to earn what was his, and he worked endlessly to pay his own way through Detroit’s College for Creative Studies.

  His best friend, Irwin Jamison, was also Evan’s co-writer and illustrator. Evan had deep respect for Irwin’s sharp talent for the comic’s art. Although Irwin had repeatedly tried to teach Evan the keys to creating a dark comic, Evan conceded he didn’t have the touch that Irwin possessed. Evan’s gift was writing the dialogue for the characters, descriptions of events and thought patterns. Evan would sit and watch Irwin as he drew up the sketches that Evan described, making them stand out and come to life.

  Evan stretched to relax his tense arms and shoulders sore from hunching over his laptop while working for days. It was a presentation that should have been done yesterday. He ran his fingers through his dirty-dish-water hair and suddenly realized that he had lost track of time as the sun no longer was shining. His intense steel-blue eyes shot over to the clock which read 10:38.

  “Shit!” Evan said sharply. He stopped his music, took out the ear buds to dial his wife.

  ‘Shouldn't be too late now,’ he thought.

  “Hey, babe,” said Colleen. “I’ve been waiting for you to call. I was beginning to worry that you had forgotten about me.”

  “I would never, Colleen.” Evan promised.

  “Uh huh, how's it going?” Colleen asked.

  “Well, it’s too damn hot here right now to do anything outside, so I am taking the time to rewrite some of the presentation. I think the fans will be amused because I added a few one-liners for them to eat up. How are you?” Evan asked.

  “I’m good, although I had a rough day today. Emily has been colicky for most of the day, which had Eliot all bent out of shape. He even told her to shut up.”

  “He said that?” Evan laughed. He couldn’t imagine his four-year-old getting angry like that.

  “It’s not funny, Evan. I have no idea where he heard it from,” Colleen growled.

  There was a moment of silence from Colleen, which usually meant she was troubled.

  “Evan, has anything weird been going on down there?” Colleen asked.

  “Other than a horde of Klingon and storm trooper wannabes trash talking each other at the con, what do you mean by weird?”

  Colleen laughed at the mental image Evan described to her, although he felt something was definitely worrying her other than an angry four-year-old screaming at the infant girl.

  “It's just,” Colleen said. “Something really mind-blowing happened at a grocery store parking lot near here. Some guy just walked out of nowhere and attacked another guy for no reason. He just started biting him. He was taken down, but the other guy died, from the bites! How is that possible?”

  “Yeah, that is weird.” Evan said. “No, I haven’t heard anything.”

  “Just some nut then,” Colleen said. “We both know that Detroit is full of them.”

  “Oh my God, It was a zombie, and he's coming to eat you, Colleen!” Evan said suddenly. He held the word ‘zombie’ to tease her.

  “Oh, shut up! That's not funny!” Colleen said.

  “And you said you don't know how Eliot learned how to say shut up?”

  “Stop being such a dick!” Colleen growled. “I never said it in front of him! You know that!”

  Evan laughed at his frustrated wife.

  “I love you, Colleen,” Evan said assuredly. “I'm sorry for being a ‘dick.’ I'm sure it was just some lunatic on bath salts and no life. The other guy may have had hemophilia and the lunatic hit a vein. It’s just bad luck. I better get going, though. Tomorrow's going to be crazy.”

  “I love you, too, Evan,” Colleen said.

  Evan hung up the phone and immediately felt an overwhelming sentiment of homesickness. He took out his wallet to flip through the pictures. One of them was a family photo of him and Colleen with Eliot sitting on Evan’s lap when Eliot was three. Another was of Evan holding Emily taken over his right shoulder by Irwin in the hospital room.

  There was one of Evan and his brother, Mark, Mark’s wife, Sarah and their daughter, Tracy at Disney World. The last one was of him and Colleen kissing at the resort during their honey moon.

  Evan and Colleen had known each other since they were ten. They had been inseparable since. They shared everything together, and everyone said they were going to be together until death. Evan was still in college when Colleen became pregnant and they were blessed with Eliot.

  Colleen's father, Barrett, had always adored Evan. He paid for their massive wedding, inviting close to a hundred and fifty people. Mark was the best man while Irwin served as a groomsman, and Tracy was the prettiest flower girl. Barrett knew of Evan’s passion for comics, and paid for Stan Lee to be a guest of honor.

  Others had tried to steal Colleen’s attention, but she never looked beyond Evan. While growing up, they went to fairs together, where they had kissed for the first time. They went to prom together and made love with each other while they were juniors in high school.

  Colleen admired Evan's writing skills, never ceasing in encouraging his work. While serving on the year book committee in high school, Colleen added some of Evan's stories in the books each year.

  The night before Evan left for Phoenix was the one of the most intimate he could remember. Love swelled in his heart as he stood at the doorway. He watched Colleen, who held their six month old daughter. Colleen hummed as she rocked Emily gently.

  Evan took the sleeping baby girl and placed her gently into her crib. He put his hand on Colleen’s hip to lead her toward their bed. He lightly kissed her lips with the same passion as the first. Touching her face with the very tips of his fingers, Evan ran them down her sides, breasts and hips, inside her thighs and back up to her stomach.

  Unsnapping her pants and sliding them off gracefully, Evan knelt down in front of her and lifted up her shirt, followed by a sensual kiss to Colleen’s stomach. He then slid off her shirt with two fingers while the other two barely touched her skin. She finished sliding off her clothes, and helped him with his.

  “God has drawn you out so perfectly,” he whispered to her.

  He kissed her gently again. She backed herself onto the bed and led hi
m on top of her. They made passionate love for most of the night.

  “I’m probably going to be pregnant after this,” Colleen stated as she laid her head on his chest and traced the lines on Evan’s abdomen.

  “Did you want another?” he asked her.

  “Do you?” she replied. Colleen had seemed to search into his eyes.

  “One more,” Evan decided. “I think we could have one more.”

  “If by some miracle I’m not pregnant, we’ll try again when you get back, or we could try again right now,” she said when she saw a lift in the blanket where an erection waited.

  “You can’t tire me out, babe,” Evan promised.

  “Do you want to make a bet?” Colleen countered with a malicious grin.

  She got on top of him and her body trembled as they joined as one. After they were done, Evan was proven wrong as he had fallen sound asleep almost immediately.

  Tonight, Evan wished Colleen was with him. Even if they didn't make love, he just wanted her to be there. As a father, Evan was remarkable with the children, and they gave him overwhelming joy.

  Evan yawned and cleared off his bed to finally get some sleep. He pointed the remote to shut off the TV when he saw some news scrolling on the bottom of random attacks in the metro area of Phoenix. There were more attacks than usual the report has said. The station speculated that comic book fans had gotten drunk and rowdy before the convention.

  He pushed the remote's power button right as the annoying emergency chime sounded. He lightly tossed the remote onto the night stand.

  Evan wandered over to the bathroom, undressed and saw that the thoughts of his wife had given him an erection to take care of. Turning on the water and testing it, he got in. The hot water was a blessing for his tense shoulders from the hours of review and rewriting.

  Evan fell asleep instantly when his head hit the pillow. He was beyond nervous for the following day, even though he had done these conventions a few times since signing a lengthy contract with Marvel Comics. ‘Hero/Villain’ had become a hit as soon as it hit the stands.

  The story was about an ex-Marine who had been induced with an experimental chemical, giving him strengthened mental abilities that granted him insight to a person’s criminal motives and actions before they acted on them. Each time he used his powers however, he suffered mental degradation.

  Eventually he started uncontrollably slaughtering people, believing they were going to act out the crimes against him. It was a dark story, with little hope for the main character. The comic was rewarded with rave reviews and multiple independent and significant awards.

  -----

  A year before the event that shattered humanity marked a new beginning for the Silver family. For the last two years, Nikki Silver suffered from obvious sexual discrimination from the good old boys club within the higher ranks of the neurosurgery fraternity.

  Nikki prepared for her operation on Dwayne Garrett, a 42-year-old who suffered from a severe subdural hematoma on the motor and sensory cortex in his brain. It was caused by a motorcycle accident earlier in the afternoon. He collided with a dump truck after losing control. Nikki already discussed the procedure with Dwayne’s family and how she wanted to perform it.

  As she prepared, she received an unexpected visit from Trevor Moore, a new neurosurgeon right out of medical school.

  “What are you doing here, Trevor?” Nikki asked suspiciously.

  “The partners have decided this procedure may be too difficult for you to handle, so they put me in your place. I’m sorry, but here’s the waiver,” Trevor said sympathetically.

  “I don’t understand. I’ve done this procedure many times, and I was successful every time,” Nikki objected.

  “I’m really sorry, Nikki. I know you are the best in the area, but they feel this one may be too complex. I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside.”

  Nikki was speechless. She furiously removed her scrubs before she went to wait out in the hallway. Her team appeared stunned by what they witnessed. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make sense of what had just happened.

  Inside the prep room, Trevor looked over Dwayne’s sheet that didn’t resemble the one he was given by his direct supervisor. He started with the condition, which wasn’t even close. Dwayne didn’t have a brain tumor according to Nikki’s sheet. He had a subdural hematoma. Trevor rapped on the glass window between the prep room and the operating room.

  “I think we may need Nikki in here after all. Could you help get her prepped?” he asked one of the interns, who hurried to get Nikki.

  After being summoned, Nikki quickly prepared for the operation and joined Trevor in the operating room.

  “This is all wrong,” Trevor said. “I was given a check sheet that said you were operating on a brain tumor, not this.”

  “I think they tried to play me, Trevor,” Nikki said.

  “I want you to do the operation,” Trevor said. “I’ll assist. We’ll fix this afterwards.”

  “Do you have the check sheet they gave you?” Nikki asked him.

  “I have it in my pocket. I can’t believe they didn’t have the courtesy to think I wouldn’t notice. I’m ready when you are, Doctor Silver.”

  After successfully completing the surgery, Nikki and Trevor researched the sheet he was given to find it was fabricated from an operation done weeks ago, with dates changed and some of the conditions altered.

  The pair took the evidence to the Arizona State Medical Board, which began a massive investigation against the entire neurosurgery staff in Phoenix. Nikki and Trevor were rewarded and named the top neurosurgeons in the state with a new slogan for their practice; ‘Faith, Integrity and Hope. Your health matters most.’

  -----

  Irwin Jamison jerked awake from a horrible nightmare. His chest rose and fell deeply, and his heart raced as his eyes tried to adjust to the violent way they had opened. All he could see were black and white specks. Thankfully, the memory of the dream quickly faded.

  Slowly, he tried sitting up at the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes to clear them. He reached over for the lamp on the nightstand and tapped it on. The clock on the stand said 12:13.

  Irwin ruffled his thick black hair, which had begun to show hints of grey. He was a large, muscular man weighing nearly two hundred and fifty pounds. He had pale skin that looked like that of a man who lived most of his life in Detroit, with no sign he ever tanned.

  He stood up to stretch, and sluggishly made his way to his bedroom door. Other than the light from his room, the hallway was dark. He tried to get to the bathroom as quietly as he could so as to not wake his eleven-year-old son, William, or his parents, Emmett and Diane.

  He walked into something hard and grainy. Pain immediately consumed his big toe. He groaned from the pain and cursed the object to find it was William’s skateboard. He was about to lift up his foot to snap it in half when the hallway light came on. Standing in the hallway was William himself. He wore boxers as if he had something to prove.

  William barely resembled Irwin. He was slender, muscular, and rather tall for his age. His skin was thoroughly tanned and he had long dirty-blond hair that grew just beyond his shoulders. He had sapphire blue eyes.

  He could have been the son of a Californian surfboarder than that of a comic book illustrator from Detroit. His attitude matched his looks. William persisted on being disrespectful to others, even toward his grandparents, and at times he was known to be highly obnoxious.

  “Oh! It's just you,” William said with a sigh.

  “Oh! It's just me!” Irwin replied. “What are you doing up? A better question, how many times have I asked you not to leave this damn thing lying around?”

  “A few,” William retorted sarcastically.

  “Try at least a hundred. I’m about ready to snap it in half,” Irwin threatened.

  “Do it! Grandpa will just get me a new one!” William argued snottily.

  “Pick it up and get your ass back in bed!” Irwin
snapped at his son.

  “What the fuck ever,” William hissed. He stomped over to pick up the skateboard, marched back to his room and slammed his door closed.

  Another door opened to reveal Diane.

  “Is everything alright out here, Irwin?” Diane asked.

  “Just William and I busting each other’s balls, like usual these days. I tell you, ma. He acts like he hates me.”

  “It’s his age,” Diane told him. “You did it to your father too. Maybe it’s the way you speak to him. You didn't have to tell him to go to bed the way you did. I do know he loves you.”

  “I wish he'd show it more often,” Irwin groaned.

  “He’s eleven years old. He doesn’t think he’s a kid anymore, but you still treat him like one.”

  “I’ll have to talk to him in the morning. Go back to bed. I’ll hit the light after I pee.”

  “Love you, Irwin. Good night.”

  “Love you too, ma," Irwin said.

  He strolled over to kiss his mother and headed toward the bathroom.

  After he finished, he went to look out the window at the end of the hallway. Irwin looked down the road and noticed a man struggling to walk.

  “Damn drunks,” Irwin said with a scoff.

  Irwin went to meet what turned out to be an old man with a severely injured leg.

  “Sweet Jesus, man! Are you ok?” Irwin asked. He placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder, trying to stop him.

  The old man did stop. He lifted his head so that the street lamp revealed a horrifyingly gaunt face. His eyes were a sickly yellow and extremely abnormal. His mouth opened to release a blood-curdling moan.

  “What the hell?” Irwin said.

  He began to back away from the old man, but before he knew it, the attacker was on him. His incredible strength brought them both down. The old man's teeth gnashed, the moan turned to inhuman growls. The sickly old man bit into Irwin’s shoulder and tore away skin.

  The old man bit again, this time his teeth sank deeper that took hold of Irwin’s right collar bone. The man then pulled back, tearing the bone partly out of his shoulder. Surprise and underestimation had caught Irwin off guard, but the will to live kicked in. Irwin began pounding the old man repeatedly and finally knocked the man off of him. Irwin got up to run back toward the house.