This Plague of Days OMNIBUS EDITION: The Complete Three Seasons of the Zombie Apocalypse Series

by Chute, Robert Chazz

  The boy looked at his feet. “I’m wearing my father’s slippers.”

  Misericordia watched him, curious. “I suppose, in unfamiliar environs, the mind reaches for comfort. How is your family?”

  “Running. Francis Carron isn’t far behind us. I check in on him from time to time. He’s close by and very…determined.”

  “I can help you with that problem. Or help you help yourself. I took down the Brickyard. I can make you so you have nothing to fear from Mr. Carron. Or any man.”

  “I don’t fear him. When the time comes, he will fear me.”

  “But you say you don’t know the future.”

  “I know me.”

  Misericordia smiled and nodded. “A good answer in keeping with my new life motto: Nobody’s bitch.”

  “That’s a bad word Anna uses sometimes.”

  “Jaimie, don’t be a bitch.”

  “Okay.”

  Here and there, the ground itself bubbled anew and issued fresh plumes of foul smoke. The scene was washed out, black and white and bleak as a moonscape.

  “How did you find me?” Jaimie asked.

  “Things are changing again. I’m evolving. Oh, I can’t move through dreams with the same ease that you possess. You probably have the only skill a human can have that I still envy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You do feel the changes coming, don’t you? There are a lot fewer people left in the world — ”

  “As if there is less need to share power with so many dolts.”

  Misericordia looked startled. “I think I was about to say exactly that.”

  “I know. It seems like we’re pulled together, doesn’t it? Not so much interference from radio waves and noise and chatter…whatever their distance apart might be, there seems less space among the survivors. Civilization, the way it was, put an impermeable membrane between us. Now that the noise of the living has died down, the membrane is more permeable. We’re cells in a larger organism and we’re finally beginning to communicate better.”

  Misericordia looked pleased. “I feel it strongest when I hunt with my tribe. Little flashes of insight. It’s like we can coordinate our efforts without a lot of babble, you know? It’s such fun to surround humans before closing the noose. You’re a scream. And such screamers.”

  Theo could read Jaimie’s thoughts and he’d seen inklings of telepathy with his mother and sister. His mind was not transparent to Misericordia. If the vampire could read his mind, he’d be angry.

  “The humans are gaining intuitions, too, and stronger,” Jaimie said. “I’m told that power could be something you’ll soon envy. Humans will understand each other better, but you won’t be able to understand us. You aren’t human anymore. That opportunity is lost.”

  Misericordia looked less pleased. “Does the butcher gain anything from understanding the thoughts of his cattle and pigs? Ouija boards are boring compared to the joys of being an Alpha.”

  When one of the Komodos dared to lunge toward Jaimie, the vampire yanked on the dragon’s leash. It hissed at its master and paced, impatient.

  “Tell me, friend, how do you see you and I coming together, meeting in the real world, for lack of a better term?” Misericordia asked.

  Jaimie had heard strangers call his father ‘friend’ twice before, once in a taxi long ago and another time in a convenience store. Jaimie had not understood it then. He understood now. Calling a stranger a friend was a way strangers tried to get people to agree with them, assuming a friendship unearned.

  “Jaimie?”

  “The old world is gone and the new world will be whatever we make it. Just like Shiva says, she will be queen and we’re going to get it right this time.”

  “Shiva says that, hm?”

  “It’s logical. She made Sutr-X happen so we will all serve her. She had the vision and she has the child.”

  “She’s had the baby?”

  “Not yet. Soon.”

  “And what does the baby have to do with anything exactly? Sometimes I almost see it, floating and cozy in its amniotic sac. I’ve felt the child’s power in dreams, like standing too close to a fire. It comes to look at me…like a little angel except…I don’t understand. Its energy is white and indigo and silver. ”

  Jaimie shrugged. “You’ll understand when you see her. Shiva’s in Bermuda.”

  “I know. I sent two of my best to fetch her.”

  Jaimie’s face beaded with sweat. The sulphur hanging in the air made him want to gag. “I suppose Shiva isn’t just the world’s new queen. She’s your mother, too.”

  Misericordia’s laugh was a derisive bark. “You think so?”

  “She gave you the strain that made you what you are. It’s changed her, too. She’s very strong.”

  “You freed me at the Brickyard. Does that make you my father, boy?”

  “You want to make me like you. I think that will make you my father, Misericordia.”

  Misericordia’s face softened and the ground stopped smoking. Green sprouts wound their way up through the black, volcanic glass.

  “We'd better get to the point fast. This connection between us…it feels more tentative now. I’m afraid I’ll wake up in the bathtub soon.”

  “That’s where you are? In a bathtub?”

  Misericordia smiled. “Not exactly. I got tired of waiting for you to come to me again so I consulted my friend, Dr. Merritt, just before he died. I asked him how I might get myself into the right state of mind to reach you. He managed to scream some helpful suggestions. At this moment, I’m in an isolation tank in Baja, floating out of gravity in water warmed to my body temperature. There’s two tons of salt in there. Feels like floating in the heavenly womb of discovery, just like Shiva’s cunning little angel incubator.”

  “That’s all it took? You meditated your way into my dreams?”

  “Merritt had other suggestions. We tried weed first, but all I saw was the apocalypse in cartoons.”

  “So that experiment was a failure.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. I laughed my ass off for hours. Cartoon zombies are funny. The tricky bit is, my body filters things much faster than when I was human. I’m not bragging. It was hard work to get high at all. You’ll soon see, once you’ve tasted fresh meat, it’s hard to get high on anything else.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will. Anyway, marijuana and peyote together didn’t get me here, but nicotine did, oddly enough. Dangerous stuff, that, just like it says on the tin.”

  The Komodos launched themselves at Jaimie again and the vampire laughed as he gave the monsters a little more slack before hauling them just out of reach of Jaimie.

  “In that dark little tank I’m sleeping in right now? Every inch of my body is covered in nicotine patches. I don’t recommend it. It’d make your little heart explode, but for me? Pow! It’s the ticket to lucid dreaming. Merritt wasn’t totally useless after all. And, to be fair to the cow, his guts were well marbled.”

  Through dead trees and murder groves

  Jaimie’s stomach churned and he thought he might awake back in Canada. He wanted to leave the Dreamscape very much. He still missed his destroyed home, but the pine trees he slept beneath did smell better than the artificial pine scent in his old bathroom.

  Still, The Way of Things had given him a mission and he could not waste this opportunity. “I presume you have some ideas about how things should unfold?”

  “How will we join forces, son?” Misericordia asked. “Talk fast.”

  “That will depend on Shiva. We’ll follow her orders as soon as the baby is born.”

  Misericordia scoffed. “Why would we do that?”

  “Because the baby has evolved past Alpha.”

  “And where will the baby be born?”

  “I can’t tell the future.”

  “Then what good are you?” The sky turned a darker shade of crimson and the Komodo dragons growled. Lava glass crunched and tinkled as their heavy, clawed feet pawed t
he ground. Shiva had nearly killed Jaimie in the Dreamscape and he had, briefly, succeeded in killing Shiva. Misericordia could be just as dangerous to him here, if provoked.

  “The Way of Things says the new era begins in Charleston,” Jaimie said. “That’s where we’ll all meet.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere. Why there?”

  “That’s where the cargo planes are. Big ones, for all the vampires. Everyone will get one bite each, to spread the Alpha infection.”

  “Alpha perfection,” Misericordia said. “Just one bite? Doesn’t sound very filling.”

  Jaimie shrugged.

  “Cargo planes, eh?”

  “Big transports to every corner of the globe where there are still humans who haven’t been bitten. Still lots of human survivors in Australia and Northern China. From Charleston, Shiva will order the Alphas — ”

  “Me and my tribe, you mean?” Misericordia stood, indignant.

  “Shiva will repopulate the world with Alphas. She’ll split you all up and send you to infect the survivors of Sutr-X and Z.”

  “All of us? What about the baby? Shiva’s little princess?”

  “Shiva and her baby will be the apex predators, of course, queen and princess. Otherwise, without monarchy, why would we do as we’re told?”

  “I spent a lot time following orders before the Fall. All that…” Misericordia looked truly troubled for the first time. “Remember my motto, boy?”

  “Nobody’s b-word? Mom says Anna shouldn’t use the b-word. That used to confuse me, since there are so many words that begin with b.”

  “So you’re evolving, too.”

  “The access to the hive mind has helped me a lot. Things are much clearer since I started watching from higher up. My dad would call that ‘seeing the big picture.’ Since I started visiting so many people in their dreams, I understand what the big picture means now.”

  “What happens once all the survivors become vampires?”

  “Shiva will shift your mission to killing zombies, I guess.”

  “I prefer hunting humans for my meat. Zombies don’t know fear. Fear gives human meat its tang. We could farm your kind easily. Like a pig farm. Dr. Merritt suggested that. I’m picturing thousands of tiny cages. Sweet-tasting little babies are better than veal.” Misericordia laughed. “But I do love the hunt.”

  Jaimie rolled his eyes in the same way Anna did when she wanted to annoy their mother. “Shiva didn’t save the world so we could go back to all the old ways, Misericordia. No more military. No more hierarchy. No more tribal chieftains. Just a queen, a princess and your obedience.”

  “One bite per human isn’t going to do it for me, boy. I am not so easily sated.”

  “My parents would say, ‘How do you know you don’t like it unless you try it?’”

  “What happens after the zombies?”

  “After they’re gone, I suppose you’ll chase squirrels and other small rodents.”

  “What?”

  “Rabbits? I suppose, unless you’re very careful, having too many Alphas around, you’ll end up hunting the deer and the elk and the caribou to extinction. Pity, since those animals are on their way back since the plagues began.”

  Misericordia shook his head in disgust. “I will rule. If all the remaining humans are made into Alphas, the tribe is diluted. If we’re all special, no one’s special.”

  “But you don’t have the legacy Shiva does, or the baby. Shiva created the plague and the Apex predator the baby will become. Apex trumps Alpha.”

  Misericordia’s growl rumbled and the air shimmered in the increasing heat.

  “When all are gods,” Jaimie said, “a new leader emerges. Asgard had Odin, Zeus ruled the Olympians and even Jesus had a dad. You’re an Alpha, Shiva’s baby is the Apex. Soon, you’ll be just another Alpha.”

  Misericordia’s anger spiked red, flooding the sky with rust. Jaimie winced at the air’s taste. The connection between Misericordia and Jaimie began to break. The Dreamscape shuddered with tremors building to an earthquake.

  “Don’t worry! Soon you’ll have a new queen to make you a b-word!” Jaimie yelled as Misericordia disappeared, back to Baja and into an impotent, splashing rage in his isolation tank.

  The Komodos, now free of their chains, circled the boy in tight circles before running at him.

  Jaimie smiled and the dragons stopped cold. “You,” Jaimie told the nearest one, “are named Misericordia. And you are Shiva.”

  The dragons’ mean little eyes, black and dead as marbles, turned to shining white, like bright snow under a noonday winter sun. The Komodo dragons turned on each other and attacked. Each tried to tear the other apart.

  Jaimie watched as the dragon named Shiva closed its teeth around the throat of Misericordia’s namesake. Their tails whipped from side to side and they growled and squealed. They clawed and bit.

  Jaimie sighed and stroked the soft flannel of his pajama top for comfort. “I wish it were all going to be this easy.”

  Wandering woods, hoping for tomorrows

  Xavier awoke beside Dahlia with a start. Car engines had come to life as one and were rumbling through the encampment.

  Xavier disentangled himself from Dahlia and brushed the rouge makeup from his bare shoulder as he rushed for his tent flap. He grabbed his white robe and emerged into bright sunshine.

  A line of cars sped away. The huge circus tent, the hub for his revival meetings, looked lonely, forlorn and depleted. Xavier squinted and blinked in the bright light of day, mystified. He had far fewer followers than when he went to bed last night.

  “Bye-bye, X!” Big Larry, one of his most trusted men, almost ran over the cult leader as he passed by on his Harley.

  Xavier leaped out of the way, nearly stumbling. His last look at Larry was the big man’s back and a dismissive, one-finger wave.

  “Stop!”

  No one followed his order. “Wait! Can’t we talk about this?”

  More cars passed. From the rear window of each vehicle, the faces of children stared.

  “The roads are blocked, anyway! Where do you think you’re going? We have a new Promised Land to build, you traitors!”

  “Don’t worry, X. They’ll build it. The road north isn’t blocked.”

  Xavier turned to find Dahlia wrapped in a white sheet. “But, the Promised Land…”

  “They’ll find it or they’ll build it.”

  “B-but…” He turned to look again at the line of cars disappearing in clouds of dust down a dirt road. “It was my vision. This was my dream.”

  “Wasn’t that supposed to be God’s vision?”

  “Whatever.”

  Dahlia stepped beside him and waved to the last of the cars, an old, rusted Chevy. Two girls and a little boy, none older than seven, peered back from the rear window. They did not wave. They looked at Xavier with accusing eyes.

  “We all had dreams, last night, X,” Dahlia said. “Everybody but you, I guess.”

  “This is a nightmare.”

  “No. It’s been hard, but I’d say you’ve gotten off easy. Until now.”

  The sounds of the car engines soon burned away to die in the distance.

  Xavier turned to his left. The remainder of his group emerged from their tents. They carried bundles and bags and began to pack their things. Several pulled up tent pegs.

  “What’s happened? Explain!”

  “The messenger came to us last night. All the families are headed North. Your plan will be fulfilled. God’s got new plans for you.”

  “God don’t change, Dahlia!”

  “Then I guess you changed, X.”

  * * *

  Inside his tent, Xavier held his head in his hands. “I was supposed to be Moses! This is my worst fear come true. What will all those people do without my guidance?”

  “We got guided last night, man.” Dahlia dropped the sheet and pulled her shirt over her head hurriedly. There was no glint of slow seduction in her eye this mornin
g.

  “Tell me. What happened?”

  “I told you. The messenger came.”

  “But not to me.”

  “That was kind of the point.”

  “Don’t drag it out.”

  Dahlia pulled on black leather pants. “Sorry, X. I’m not trying to torture you. You just aren’t worth all the bother anymore.”

  He ran at her. With her skinny frame, it was easy to throw her to the bed. He straddled and pinned her. His hands closed around her throat.

  He might have squeezed, but he stopped abruptly when he felt the point of her knife at his throat. His blood trickled down the long serrated, steel blade. The crimson line gathered around the hilt and slipped around her fist like the beginnings of a lace glove. “Get off me or I’ll give you the closest shave of your life.”

  He rolled back and away, his hand at his throat.

  “Don’t be a baby,” she said. “It’s a nick.”

  “It’s a big nick!”

  “Coulda been worse.”

  “Just tell me what’s going on. I’ve earned that.”

  “Don’t try to sell me too heavy on what you’ve earned.” Dahlia wiped the steel clean on a bed sheet. She stood, pulled her gun belt from the floor and fastened the buckle with a loud click. “I saw what you did in New York.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  She pulled her pistol from its holster and checked that the magazine was full.

  Click! Clack! Point.

  He stared into the gun muzzle’s mouth, startled. He could feel the spot in the middle of his forehead where the bullet would drill through. It felt like a fingertip pressing just above his eyes.

  “Tell me about New York again,” Dahlia said.

  “I’ve told the story of the attack on New York a hundred times.”

  “Tell me about your escape again. If you lie, I’ll pull the trigger. I swear to you, I will.”

  That’s when he knew he was no longer X, the street preacher, former subway busker with a fiddle and a marionette. His cult was broken and now he was merely Eguskine Xavier Zubiri again. No. Just Gus.