Dead Bones - Six Pack. The Ultimate Zombie Collection

by Ian Woodhead

  It did trouble him that he knew next to nothing about the two young geniuses. They could both talk for hours about the outbreak, and they could prattle on for days about their work, but neither of them ever said anything about their pasts.

  “Bub2’s been very jittery for the past couple of days, and we’ve absolutely no idea why,” said Mark, grinning.

  Henry stood up and pushed past the pair of them, suddenly feeling quite sad. He knew exactly why their pet zombie had been acting up; he had seen the same behaviour whilst out roaming.

  All the altered humans were somehow connected to each other. It depressed him to know that these two brain boxes would never accept that theory. He looked at the vast array of test tubes, glass vials, and pipes, and sighed. These two fuckers that had probably never even had the pleasure of feeling a warm breast in their hand or hearing a woman moan as they took her, would never work out how to save their species. They couldn't even see past their own pointed virgin noses.

  “I think Bub2 might be falling madly in love with you, old man,” Nigel said to him, chuckling heartily at his own stupid joke.

  Henry attempted to give a personable smile to Nigel. He found that he could cope with Mark, barely, but that Nigel just gave him a raging case of the creeps. Nigel had that type of face that just screamed, "Please punch me!" It wouldn't matter if he was talking about kittens, or orphans, or reading to the blind. He could be talking about rescuing blind, orphaned kittens from a burning library, and Henry would still be fighting off the urge to slap the stupid sod in his smug face. Henry was well aware that if he ever did in fact, smack the twat, he probably would not be able to stop.

  Mark approached the bars and gave the dead boy a stern look while he ran his finger along the top of the dog cage.

  “Hush, you. Go back to sleep, boy.”

  Henry watched it subserviently retreat into the corner and curl up into a ball, knees pulled to its rotten chest.

  “Bloody hell! How in God's name…” Henry trailed off, still not quite believing what he had seen with his own eyes.

  “I feed it." Mark grinned, obviously pleased with himself, if not even a bit drunk with his authority over the monster.

  "Bloody hell." Henry repeated.

  "Bub2 knows exactly what happens if it doesn’t do as it’s told. Don't you?” Mark said as he pointed his finger into the cage, taunting the beast with a condescending smirk on his face.

  Henry had a brief vision of the boy jumping from its foetal position and biting that finger right off of Mark's hand. A smile of his own spread on Henry's face. He thought that he might actually like to punch Mark as well.

  “Hey, Henry, do you want to look at our other specimen?” Mark asked, suddenly almost skipping over to where Nigel stood.

  He gazed at the pair, their mischievous faces looking more like two tots who had just stolen the cookies than like two brilliant scientists. The future of humanity was supposed to rest in their hands. God help them all.

  “You won’t believe this, old man,” said Nigel, snickering like a fool. “Talk about awesome.”

  Henry sighed again. He waited until their backs were turned before snagging the key to the food store off the hook. Good thing these eggheads couldn't read thoughts. He hurried to catch up to the two.

  “Our little friend is no longer a climber.” Mark muttered. Henry was confused, but decided to let this story play itself out.

  They had captured the two kids in between the wall cavities a few weeks before. Henry and another roamer had managed to secure them with thick ropes after quite a fight. Oliver had ordered the two be destroyed immediately, but these two brain boxes were having none of it. Unlike the rest of the group, they showed absolutely no fear of the mighty Oliver. It seems they figured themselves to be irreplaceable.

  Both Nigel and Mark stopped in front of a pair of curtains. They looked like two magician's assistants preparing for the big reveal of some amazing trick.

  “Brace yourself,” said Mark, barely able to contain his glee. “This is seriously going to freak you out.”

  They grabbed the shoddy material and pulled it back with a flourish. Henry found himself staring straight at the lifeless blank eyes of one of the dead. Out of the corner of his eye, Henry noticed Bub2 standing at the door of his cage. He could swear that the boy was trembling.

  “We now believe that the children as well as the hunters are trapped in a state between life and death. Obviously, the high levels of hormones in the kid’s body had accelerated the change,” Nigel explained.

  Mark sighed wistfully. “God, what I wouldn't do to get my hands on a hunter.”

  Henry had to get out of here. Oh, Jesus, he was so close to telling them to be careful what they wished for. He turned and began heading for the door.

  “Still, I’m sure our revered leader will be happy with our progress report. He should be happy to get a bit of good news for a change,” Mark continued.

  Henry reached the door and spun around, suddenly filled with anger and an even stronger urge to beat these two within an inch of their lives.

  “Just how the fuck is that good news? For crying out loud, good news would be if you had found a cure. This poor little bastard didn't choose to be a monster, and now you have him on display like a fucking tiger in a zoo. Maybe you could spend your time finding a way to restore his humanity?"

  The pair looked at each other, completely taken aback by Henry’s outburst.

  “Well,” Nigel stammered. "The dead are a lot easier to put down than the climbers. I thought that was obvious.”

  Henry shrugged, wondering if either of these geeks actually had a real life before the outbreak. They obviously had no idea how to take his speech. He took a final glance around at their makeshift laboratory. He suspected that the answer to his question would be a big fat resounding no. He also suspected that, unlike the rest of the survivors, these two clowns were actually happy about the outbreak. Hell, they were having the time of their lives. This was probably the first time in their pathetic, lonely lives that anybody had ever listened to them. First time that anyone gave two shits about what they thought about anything.

  “Wait on, Henry. You haven’t yet told us why you came to visit.”

  Nigel giggled. “Come on, Mark. Why else do you think he came down here?” he pointed to the hook. “Oh, something is missing.” He gazed at Mark and winked. “I think our little roamer is going to have a midnight feast.”

  “So what if I am? I brought back most of the gear anyway. I think I’m more entitled than most.” Henry bristled, afraid that these two idiots would be his undoing.

  The two young men just laughed.

  Nigel dug into his top pocket and pulled out a Mars bar. He pulled open the wrapper and took a hearty bite.

  “Just keep what’s left of your hair on, old man. We both think that Oliver is a fucking moron. Like we don’t have a root around in the food store and take whatever the hell we want? Just remember to bring the key back when you get your fill."

  “And a few packets of crisps.” added Mark, absently.

  Henry opened the door and got the fuck out of there. The sooner he was out of this insane compound, the better.

  He had gone through his entire life having trouble understanding how other people ticked, often confusing one emotion for another. He found himself quite often not caring, either. He had always preferred his own company. He never caused trouble for himself, he created very little drama, and he hardly ever felt the need to punch himself in the face.

  Henry chose a job as a computer systems engineer in his old life. He could understand machines. If they developed a fault, finding the problem was a relatively simple process. Henry often wished that humans were built the same way, with an off switch and a reset button.

  The population had been cut down to just a handful by a horrible sickness. People were scrounging to survive and being hunted by monsters. Henry still could not work out the motivations of most people.

  “Wh
at’s your motivation, Henry?” the Henry voice in his head asked. He stopped walking and realized that that was a good point. He might grab a few packs of jerky and some bottles of water, but he had no intention of emptying the place out. His main reason for going was not the food, it was to have one final look at that very special painting at the top of the stairs—the one that hung near the staff quarters.

  To the best of his knowledge, no one had ever been up there apart from him. That suited Henry just fine. When they did notice that he had gone, he doubted anyone would think of searching up there.

  As soon as he took a little while to gaze at the painting and commit it to his memory, he intended to leave through the canteen fire door.

  “Why don’t you just take it with you?” he whispered.

  Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Henry entered the dimly lit supermarket and hurried down the deserted aisles. His mind kept going back to the image of Nigel the moron waving that chocolate bar in front of his face. Henry had wanted so badly to take it out of his stupid hand and shove it straight up Nigel's arse. It made him think of just how many others were secretly helping themselves to the food in here…the food that Henry had risked his life to obtain. Henry would have wagered that everyone in the refuge had helped themselves to something at one time or another, despite Oliver’s draconian rules and his willingness to carry them out.

  Looking back, Henry realized that he should have fled the day that Oliver had that poor girl sent out to her death.

  He stopped by the drinks fixture and picked up the two remaining bottles of flavoured water. “Maybe I should make a clean break and just leave this shithole city,” he said to the bottle.

  That made sense. Inside the city clean water was getting harder to find. He turned his head up to the rafters and imagined himself set up in an isolated cottage next to a stream or river. There would be paintings covering every wall. He would situate Jacqueline directly over the fireplace where she belonged, and where he could spend hours staring into her beautiful eyes.

  There would be little problem with the dead, since they had mostly migrated to the cities. Animals always went where the food was. All of the hunters had joined in on the smorgasbord as well, so no real problems there, either.

  He picked up the remaining packets of beef jerky, noticing that a few were missing since he had last visited.

  “What I’d give for some fresh meat,” he muttered, while stuffing the packets into his bag. “Oh yes, a nice Sunday roast or a couple of lamb chops, smothered in gravy.” Jesus, he was drooling, and a painful cramp had seized his insides.

  “Wait on, lad! The countryside will be full of wildlife. I’ll be able to pick and choose whatever I want.” Henry didn’t have a clue how to hunt or trap animals, but he guessed that it couldn’t be that hard. He ought to visit a library before leaving the city to brush up on the subject. His mouth watered at the thought of sinking his teeth into a leg of freshly roasted rabbit or slurping up a venison stew.

  He headed out with his pack full of jerky and water, but he stopped dead in front of the swinging doors that led to the staff area. Three large cardboard boxes piled on top of each other sat blocking the doors.

  “What the fuck?” Henry stepped back and pulled out his knife from the back of his trousers when he saw the top box flap slowly move. He gripped the knife, ready to throw it even though his palms had immediately gone sweaty. The flap opened out and Henry giggled when a black and white kitten jumped out of the box and lazily padded over to him.

  He bent down and picked it up before walking over to the boxes. His heart rate slowed and he felt happy for the first time in a long time when saw another four kittens wrapped up in an old woollen jumper.

  “That’s Mark’s jumper. The meek won’t inherit the Earth, our pets will.” He suddenly felt bad for thinking about punching the lad in the face earlier. Maybe Mark wasn't so bad after all. Nigel was still a right prick, but Mark might be all right.

  He gently moved the boxes out of the way, doing his best not to disturb the sleeping kittens. He pushed through the swing doors and hurried into the warehouse.

  His wife would never tolerate an animal of any kind in their house. It had been more like her house really. Henry just felt like a tenant most of the time; a tenant that paid all of the bills and tended the house while she sat on her arse and watched the telly all day.

  Henry had come to realize that he had wasted the life he had been given. Before he ruined his life he had always had big dreams. He had wanted a beautiful wife that only desired to live in the country and work side by side on a nice little farm that they owned together. He wanted a wife that knew that he was a man and treated him like it, in the fields and in the bedroom. Jacqueline would have always treated him like a man.

  “There’s nothing stopping me from setting up a farm, at least,” he said, walking up the stairs, embellishing his sweet fantasy. “Imagine having fresh eggs for breakfast every day.”

  Henry passed the corridor that led to the staff areas. He had often wondered what had become of the employees. He looked at the photographs adorning both walls.

  “These photos, just like this building, belong in the past.” Then his eyes caught sight of his painting. He slowly walked up to it, still in awe.

  “You are just exquisite, my darling.” Henry had no idea who this goddess was or who had painted the blonde girl leaning against the walls of a castle. Nevertheless, he knew that he loved her a little bit. He would have to research the history of this woman in the library.

  He took out his knife again and quickly cut the picture from the frame. Carefully rolling the painting, he walked over to the fire door. The path to his future lay just beyond this door.

  Henry pushed the bar down and stepped out onto the wet metal gantry. It looked as though it had been raining for hours. He tilted his head back, enjoying the fine spray drenching his skin.

  “I’m part of the past as well.” Henry realized that he couldn’t leave. He just couldn’t. Not until he had gathered up the girl and her baby.

  They deserved a life better than the shit that Oliver had planned for them. Henry turned back and reached for the door just as it began to close. His wet fingers slipped from the edge of the door and he found himself falling.

  He lost his balance, slipped from the wet metal gantry and went careening onto the floor, crashing in an untidy heap on the concrete below. He cried out in agony as he felt the bones in both legs crack with a loud crunch. He watched through pain-blurred vision as his own blood ran from his shin, mixing with rainwater and drifting away.

  “No. Oh fuck, please." He cried through clenched teeth. "Please don’t let it end like this."

  He looked up and saw that the fire door had now shut completely. He tried to pull his body forward. Pain shot through him like a bolt of lightning. It was nothing like he had ever experienced before. The corners of his vision suddenly went black and he thought that he might very well pass out from the shock. He had only moved just a couple of inches, if that.

  He tried to move again and the pain hit him like a jackhammer, reverberating through his shattered legs. Henry gritted his teeth and tried one more time. He was better prepared and this time he found he could cope with the agony. He looked up again and realized that it would take the full day to reach the door, but he sure as hell was not going to give up.

  He froze as a small stone rolled down the slope beside him. Henry looked up and softly moaned as the two dead things slowly shambled towards him.

  Henry cried out as he reached behind him and grabbed his knife.

  “Fuck you all,” he gasped.

  He tightened his grip on the handle and slammed the blade into the side of his neck before he had time to think. He fell back as he saw the dead things getting closer. He realized that his legs didn't hurt so much anymore.

  Henry shut his eyes and saw himself sitting at a farmhouse table, eating fresh eggs with Jacqueline sitting by his side. He looked into her eyes and smil
ed as the first monster took a bite from his ruined leg.

  Chapter Nine

  Noah held the old man by the back of his neck as he hauled him into the room and threw him into the armchair. The bastard was out cold. The old twat had not been expecting Noah to jump him from behind. Noah recounted the incident and silently congratulated himself on his stealth and cunning. This old dodger had struggled like a fucking eel, but was quickly stopped with a well-aimed punch to the side of the head. Noah was a bit surprised that he was still out, though.

  Noah stepped back and watched the man sleeping like a baby. He quickly glanced behind him towards the closed door and felt relaxed for the first time since he had left the girl’s apartment. He knew that the old man was going nowhere and certainly could not shout for help. Noah looked at the congealing blood dripping down the old timer's chin and chuckled—not anymore anyway.

  He leaned against the wall and tried to sort his head out a bit. He knew that with Abel being preoccupied talking with the boss, he would not so easily be able to read Noah's thoughts. Feeling safe, he allowed his mind to wander.

  He wondered to himself what the hell had happened in the girl’s room. Noah was not used to dealing with conflicting emotions. Not anymore, at least. He liked his black and white world. The feelings that he had experienced standing over the little girl were confusing and dangerous. What was happening to him?

  Noah was suddenly snapped out of his concentration by the sound of the door being ripped open. He snapped his eyes open and saw the old man at the apartment door. As the man started out into the hallway, he was stopped in his tracks as Abel stepped in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere. Noah took full advantage of his hesitation and grabbed the man’s hair, jerking him backwards. Blood from his mouth splattered across the door in a large upward arc.

  He dragged the man back to the chair and lifted him onto it, the man trembling in utter terror. Abel set about wiping the blood from the door with his sleeve. Noah thought for a moment that he looked positively domestic.