Sorrow

by Brian Wortley

  Thunder rumbled through the parting clouds and echoed off the empty halls of the airport passageways. Sneaking up to the main lobby, he peeked over the ledge to see a group of zombies moving about the ground floor. Brady smiled at the zombies in uniform. Flight attendants, pilots, and airport crew haunted the terminal.

  Making his way to check-in, he stumbled upon a small group of zombies. Not wanting to alert the entire terminal to his presence, Brady fell back in search of a quieter weapon than his side arm. Luckily, at one of the check-in stations he found a golf bag full of clubs. Almost casually, Brady stood on the check-in counter and swung at the first. Immediately he fell to the ground with his skull visibly fractured. One by one Brady swung the club bashing in the heads of the zombies. The second to last broke the battered club entirely. Brady stabbed the bent metal club into the last one but it barely slowed him. The zombie screamed and grabbed Brady by the shoulders attempting to bite his neck. Having no other option, Brady whipped out his side arm and shot a bullet through the corpse’s face.

  The sound echoed throughout the terminal reverberating off the floors. Without need to look, Brady could hear alerted zombies on the floor below. With the zombies coming up the stairs to his location, Brady decided to duck into a conveyer belt leading down to the airport’s interior. Darkness choked the light as it tried to shine through the conveyer belt opening. Brady pulled his night vision goggles from his clothing.

  Luckily, the zombies did not seem to follow. After wandering around the massive baggage system for hours, Brady finally located the opening to the Nex. To his amazement, a man-made light shone from the far end of the tunnel. Proceeding with caution, he came to a guardhouse long since abandoned. In the guard quarters on his right he found several biohazard suits. Slipping one on, he proceeded into the room adjacent to him where it appeared the guards slept. Several hundred beds lined the walls of the dormitories. Although he read in the reports the magnitude of the facility, it wasn’t until he saw the vast number of beds for the guards stationed there that he truly began to get a feel for the facility.

  Walking back into the main hallway, he stepped deeper into the Nex. There he came to a large vaulted door similar to ones he had seen on submarines. That led him into a decontamination room. Once he closed the door behind him, a scan began automatically. When it completed, the magnetically sealed door in front of him opened on its own.

  Once through the opening, he came to a somber sight. The vast facility loomed before him as a scowling giant. Once inside, he could see the complex had been built in the shape of a rectangular silo. Rooms lined the external walls but the center remained open. He found himself on a guard level. Mounted guns on the railings aimed to fire on the levels below them.

  When he arrived at the first floor down, he found the place to be arranged much like a prison. Cells lined the walls. Only a catwalk going around the entire perimeter of the silo separated him from the abyss. Even through his respirator, Brady could sense death in the air. When he came to the first cell, he found them. Multiple bodies showing years of decay littered the floor. Upon examining some of the cells, Brady came to the conclusion they must have put 20-25 people in a 10x10 space. There were no urinals or toilets and often the edges were lined with the remains of human excrement. The whole experience reminded Brady of a Nazi concentration camp he visited many years ago. He took a moment to look away from the contorted corpses and moved to the railing of the catwalk. There he saw a horrifying truth. Levels, similar to the one he stood on, lined the perimeter of facility all the way down until masked by thick haze.

  Under the narrow beams of flood lights, barely shining through the dense air, Brady descended deeper into the bowels. Not four levels down Brady had to start wiping his mask because of the atmosphere. Interspersed between some of the cells he discovered large horizontal shafts leading off to new hallways. In these caverns he found the actual testing chambers themselves. He uncovered entire caverns devoted to medical supplies. Huge x-ray machines lined some rooms where officials could scan dozens of people at once.

  The architecture bore obvious signs of being built entirely for efficiency. All the machinery had been crafted to accommodate groups. The medical wing horrified Brady. Even with his little medical experience, he recognized the crudeness of the facility. Machines had been setup to sever appendages if infected. Anti-biotic dispensaries lined the rooms like vending machines.

  All the reports and staggering statistics could not sum up half of the horror radiating from these cursed walls. The facility had been forged with the obvious purpose of only keeping victims alive long enough to do the required testing. Patients, probably on their way to testing chambers, had died and been left to rot in the hallways. Many of the floors were covered in a mysterious sticky substance.

  Moving deeper, he became aware of new lights mounted on the deeper levels. More like a submarine than a man, he traversed the depths of the structure. At last he could perceive the foundation. It appeared to be a large two sided door with a seam running down the middle where it opened. Upon seeing the floor, Brady decided to take a break from his awkward and tiring movements in the suit. As he mulled the facility over in his head, his mind formed a new definition for its concept of evil. He tried to grasp some concept in his mind of how depraved or brainwashed an individual must have become to be a guard in such a place. He knew a mastermind could be convinced to build such a place under the guise of power. He knew doctors could be corrupted under the promise of good to conduct these horrible experiences, but what could convince the common man to become a guard in such a place? He came to the conclusion only complete moral debasement or brainwashing could do such a thing. The thought of humans being capable of these horrifying acts made his skin crawl.

  As he sat, a strange light caught his eye. By the time he turned his head, it disappeared in the fog. Thinking it his imagination, he continued down to the bottom of the silo. Once in the depths of the silo, he found the controls to move the large doors at the base. In their slow methodical way, they jerked to life opening into the earth below. A billow of black horrid smell rose from the abyss like smoke. Brady, afraid he may pass out from the stench, stepped backwards from the terror. Gathering his courage and holding his breath, he managed to climb to the edge of the rim and peer over. What he saw made his heart skip a beat. Never once did he speak of what he witnessed there to any living person. Silently, he bore its scar to the end of his days.

  Frantically, he ran back shutting the gates forever. As he turned to leave, he distinctly saw someone watching him from several levels up.

  “Vas, vas vosa vox!” Brady heard the bizarre voice come from above him. He found a curious looking fellow leaning over the railing towards him. Brady almost spoke, but the creature spoke first saying, “I do like how those sounds sound!”

  Brady stared at him in a gazing wonder.

  “Who is you?” the creature asked tilting its head.

  The thing looked on Brady with wide bulging and spacious eyes almost like that of a monkey. Their awkward stare served only to intensify the question.

  “I am Brady. I’m just looking around here for clues.”

  “Oh! Clues McWooze I name you.”

  “Do you live here?”

  “Beetlenose scorpions crawling all around wouldn’t couldn’t shouldn’t vosa wosa wound. Sometimes I shut off all the lights and dance to the hum in my house - my house! Yes- I live here.”

  When Brady stopped to notice it, he heard a slight mechanical hum he had not perceived before the creature mentioned it. “What’s your name?” Brady asked.

  He stretched longer from the railing and shot out his arm as if in greeting to Brady. A musty column of light draped over his body as he said with robotic articulation, “Greetings, I am Protocuss.”

  Part 2

  The Second king

  With the journey to Chicago complete, the team returned and found things very changed. Val had spent most of her time in unproductive raids against th
e zombies in the downtown area. Val announced that first level zombies were becoming difficult to find. She took it as a fact of pride. Her well trained team, had rescued the bulk of the Colorado Springs zombies. But, she did note that the enemy seemed much more organized than only days before.

  Jones began construction on defensive structures fearing attacks from the remainder of the downtown zombies or desperate scavengers. Many of the new recruits had been reclaiming more of the southern housing. Fountain, a suburb of Colorado Springs, started to look like a normal town again. A group of recruits had banded together and had begun to raid nearby stores to find nonperishable foods to keep the community store supplied. The others spent much of their time searching for valuables they might be able to trade with other groups. Bartering was the main form of trade in post-apocalyptic America. The recruits showed amazing talent at finding items in the wreckage of Colorado Springs that others would be willing to trade for. Batteries, electronics like especially walkie-talkies and radios, movie posters, and clothing became some of the principle items of trading.

  Sightings of other groups became frequent for a while. On a regular basis, some group would appear looking for companionship or items. The Colorado Springs residents always pressed them for stories of the places they had been. Most travelers desired ammunition and supplies. Luckily, with the military bases around, the new town boasted plenty of both. In return, the town’s citizens gained many luxury items. Most of these traders, having sold all the goods they could, move on as quickly as they arrived. But some of the traders made Colorado Springs their new home.

  Sometimes these wandering groups proved hostile and so Jones oversaw the construction of a wall. Using cars, house siding, and any metal scraps the workers fortified the little community of houses. They turned buildings around the perimeter into guard posts. As the days progressed, the citizens began to feel an unfamiliar sense of safety. Connor, thrilled at the sight of the defensive wall, praised Jones and the builders for their efforts. He encouraged all to setup camp making Colorado Springs their home again.

  ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  On that first night back, Connor gathered everyone together. He addressed the crowd, “Citizens of the New Society, we have done well setting up camp here! I am very pleased at the construction of the walls. Inhabit the houses. Let’s see what crops we can get to grow in this scorched earth. I will not lie, life will be difficult. But we have come back from the dead! We cannot be stopped now! Here we will rebuild society.”

  Afterwards, Sara, Val, and several of the others tried to reason with him. “What are you doing? Don’t you remember how Brady told us not to get too attached to the Springs?” Sara began.

  “Do you not see?” he said angrily in defense. “Brady has abandoned us. What good he finds he doesn’t share. He is drunk with power and knowledge, keeping it all for himself. I’m sad to say we were friends. I regret helping him get to this position. I trust him no longer.”

  “You are in no state to rule,” Moses argued.

  “You would have Brady reign over us? We will all end up dead for his benefit.”

  “How can you say such things,” Val asked. “What has happened to you?”

  “What are you talking about? I want only one thing: the rebuilding of society. I want as much of humanity to survive as possible. If Brady were wise, he would want this too. Have you ever noticed how he seems to care more for zombie-kind than the humans he rescues? It’s always love for the dead. What about us? Who is going to fight for us?”

  “That’s not true and you know it, Connor,” Sara replied.

  “Then why doesn’t he share everything with us and let us make our own decisions. If Brady won’t care for these people, I will. Isn’t that what he put me in charge of anyway?” They made no reply. “I will care for this society. I will love them as if they were my own. I will be their father.”

  “We will make no progress here,” Sara told Val. “We’re wasting our time.” After they left Connor, Sara said, “I wish Brady were here. He would know what to do.”

  Later that night as Val and Sara shared dinner together, Val confessed, “I barely know Connor anymore. I’m scared to live in the same place. He wants kids badly and now he’s so power hungry, I’m honestly afraid of what he might do.”

  “Why don’t you stay with me for a while and see if he cools off?”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea with his current frame of mind? What if he takes it as an offence and goes off on everybody?”

  “If he does, we’ll have to deal with it. But for now, I can’t stand the thought of him hurting you. Please stay with me. Maybe Brady will have some ideas when he gets back.”

  “How are you two doing?”

  “We’re ok. Connor is right. Brady does keep everything to himself. It’s just hard to be in a relationship with someone like that. I feel more like one of his lackeys than his wife most of the time. What’s up with us marrying emotionally distant men?”

  Val half-laughed, half-sighed. “I understand what they’re doing is important but we’re no less important. I know that sounds selfish when the ‘other woman’ is the salvation of humanity.” Sara seemed to find this funny. “I’m just so tired of being number 2… or less.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. Is it bad that sometimes I wish Brady didn’t care as much so he’d be around more?”

  There was a moment of silence. “I will stay with you for a while. It means a lot. Thank you.”

  Val signed herself up for watch duty that night to stall informing Connor of her plans. She sat in one of the new guard towers watching the unusual night. The storm clouds had blown east but the clean air remained. For the first time in many months, the stars were visible. Val found the change in weather comforting and felt a strange small peace as she stared out across the city.

  When Val finally informed Connor the next morning, he took it much better than previously thought. He mumbled something about having large projects taking up his time anyway and seemed to have little opinion on the subject. It was such a relief to Val, she took Sara down to a local liquor store and they grabbed a bottle of wine. Sitting at a small table and chairs on the sidewalk in front of Sara’s house, they sat laughing. The scene could have been a painting of a war-torn Paris in the 1940’s with two women at a café sharing a cherished bottle of wine amongst the chaos. There with the helicopters soaring overhead, Val laughed as she had not done in months.

  ∙ • ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙

  The sound of Brady’s motorcycle came to the villager’s ears upon the wings of the morning. Just as the sun broke above the horizon the more curious ones collected around the wall to watch his approach. Parking his vehicle outside the perimeter, Brady walked to the entrance asking for the gate to be opened. The villagers watched as a scowling Connor watched Brady’s arrival from the window of his command room. Connor stepped back from the window and went out to the steps as he saw Brady immediately coming towards him.

  “What are you doing disobeying my orders?” Brady yelled as soon as he stood before Connor. “Why haven’t you assembled teams to move outside the city? Do you have any idea the chain of events you’ve set in motion?”

  “You are no longer in command, Brady. I am making the decisions for this village. I want you to tell me everything you discovered about Zalac while in the Nex.”

  Brady was taken aback by this directness. “You want some useful information? How about this for useful information: Zalac has clued on to us converting their first level zombies. So they’ve ordered their entire force of first level zombies in this area to be immediately evolved or destroyed. They’re trying to upgrade their army to the second level simply because it’s usually beyond our cure. That’s why first level zombies have become so hard to find.

  “Want another little fact? You’ve built your city on ground that is spoken for. One of our own second level zombies has hidden himself away in the sewers and birthed himself into a greater state. You now face a ki
ng. Cunning and powerful.”

  “That’s impossible! The zombies are walking around aimlessly. They have only the will to eat. Didn’t we decide that when we went to Chicago? Their structure died with the last king.”

  “Normally I think we’re right. But somehow he’s managed to find the willpower to evolve. He’s unified the second level zombies around him together. What are you going to do when he comes for his land? Can you contend with his mind? Should he stretch out his mind and claim the loyalty of the monsters in the mountain, will you break the wills of such terrors? You’ll be killed and your whole town along with you.

  “If you want to cure your aimlessness, invent a cure that’ll convert any level zombie. How are you going to rebuild your society with only the souls you have now? The cure is almost over. This is all the society you’ll ever have.”

  “No! I will have my dream of a new America. And you or this new king of yours will not stand in my way. You forget the power of the human spirit. We will march into the sewers and murder this abomination where he hides. As for you, my old friend, I want you to publically announce that I am the leader.”

  “Connor, what madness has seized you? Why are you so bent on this dream of yours? Can you not see that Zalac will not let you rebuild any type of society?”

  “I have heard enough from you - you zombie lover!” Connor pulled out his side arm. “Renounce your position or I’ll kill you. Don’t tempt me, Brady. I’ll blow your head off!”

  “So this is the end? You casting me out? You will eat these words for months and find them bitter. But remember even now I do not hate you.”

  “Shut up!” Connor raised the gun to Brady’s head. “Will you step down or do I get to kill you? Either way I will lead these people instead of you!”

  “I will tell them. Whatever speech you wish me to give, I will say. This city is yours, Connor.”