Metahumans vs the Undead: A Superhero vs Zombie Anthology

by Eric S. Brown

  “They will wither away and die a slow, agonizing death,” Raphael replied. “You see, Ms. Harker, I am not without a conscience.”

  “Just because you claim to have one doesn’t mean that you do,” I snapped.

  I still couldn’t get over what they wanted me to do.

  “And why can’t you deal with them?” I asked Raphael. He might not have my agility, but he more than made up for it in brute strength and had the power of flight, thanks to his thirty-plus-odd-foot wingspan.

  “Do you wish to break into the water treatment plant to administer the cure?” Raphael asked.

  I could have done it easily enough, but it wouldn’t look good for both David and I to be caught breaking and entering. It was too risky.

  It was like Raphael read my mind. Damn him.

  “I am not in good favour with the law enforcement community, so I propose I take this assignment while you and the good detective protect the public by ridding the city of the infected individuals.”

  I still didn’t like the idea.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Dana,” David said in a soothing voice, “but they are already dead and it’s our job to protect the public.”

  “I know, but I still don’t like the idea,” I said, “and it means I have to face them again.”

  “If it will make you feel better, I can go alone.”

  “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go by yourself.”

  “I appreciate the support, but please don’t feel you have to do this for my benefit,” he said.

  “Yes, I do. I’m not going to sit at home while you’re out becoming zombie chow. You need my help.” I turned to Raphael. “Before we go out, I want David to have the treatment, just in case something happens.”

  “But of course,” Raphael replied.

  David gave me an ambiguous look and I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. “Dana, can I speak to you?”

  “You do not trust my motives, Detective?” Raphael said.

  “Not in the least.”

  I somehow got this funny feeling I would have to play referee between them. Not that it was the first time, and certainly it wasn’t going to be the last time either.

  “David, I know Raphael hasn’t given us much reason to trust him, but I think he’s telling the truth,” I said. Granted, it was hard for me to take Raphael’s word at face value, but it would be exponentially more difficult for David.

  “What reason would Raphael have for this charade?” I asked, not giving David time to answer. “Besides, he doesn’t normally do stuff that would involve more work on his part.”

  “I guess so, but I still don’t trust him.”

  “If it’ll make you feel better, I can take the vaccine in human form.”

  “Such a course of action would be a necessity as your healing factor is not present when you are not in your feline form,” Raphael said.

  Thank you, Captain Obvious, I thought.

  “Let me make one thing clear,” David said to Raphael, “I’m only doing this because I trust Dana’s judgement, not because I trust you. And don’t think you’re off the hook for helping us.”

  “I shall think nothing of the sort,” Raphael said with a false sense of surprise.

  It didn’t take long for the doctor to administer the vaccine. Thankfully, I was already healed when I changed to my human form, because otherwise I would have been in a world of hurt.

  “So did you have a plan in mind?” David asked me.

  “Sort of, but I don’t much like it.”

  Unfortunately the only thing I could think of was using David as bait. The zombies had a tendency to group together so the idea was to put David in their proximity and I would deal with the majority of them.

  I was guessing that their increase of strength was due to their inherent lack of tactile sensory information. Because they didn’t feel pain, they could exert themselves beyond the point where a normal person would stop. They also lacked a sense of self-preservation so if they did something that damaged them, it didn’t stop them.

  It was definitely going to be a challenge, even for me. I’ve battled Raphael before and even with his healing factor, if I hit him hard enough, he would be down for a short period of time. The zombies—we’d have to decapitate or dismember to ensure they didn’t get back up. I really wasn’t looking forward to this. I guess once all of this was over with I could thank Rachel for educating me in the ways of proper zombie killing by subjecting me to her horror movie addiction. Even if the methods didn’t transfer well into the real world it would at least give me a step in the right direction.

  Normally, if David was undercover, he’d assume a persona that would blend in, but this time we wanted him to stand out, and we figured he’d garner more attention by being decently dressed in the alleys of a rough neighbourhood.

  I was clinging to the side of a building, providing the necessary lookout. It didn’t take long before I saw someone in ragged clothes lumbering toward David. I was pretty sure it was one of the infected, since several other similarly-dressed individuals were creeping out of the shadows behind him.

  My heart rate increased as I prepared for the fight. I didn’t normally have to wait for a physical altercation, so in more ways than one this whole experience was a first for me.

  David kept his cool, trying to look as casual as possible. His heart was beating as fast as mine was, but he was far more used to covering it up.

  It didn’t take long before David gave me the signal by looking up in my direction and nodding.

  I launched the grappling hook from my right wrist cuff and it went through one zombie’s head like a bullet. It was hard to tell if he was dead-dead because he stood there, flailing about.

  My sense of accomplishment was quickly diminished by another zombie grabbing the end of the grapple and pulling on it hard enough to make me lose my grip and come crashing to the ground. My healing ability wasn’t completely back to normal so I had to concentrate a bit harder on repairing the damage. I was already tagged by one zombie and I wasn’t going to have it happen again. I shook my head as I rose to my feet and saw David running back toward me.

  I only had enough time to react. I whipped my zombie-skewered grappling hook at the one closest to David. The two dead bodies collided with a menacing thud. One was down for the count, but the other was attempting to stand up. I didn’t give the creature the chance.

  I spun around on one foot, knocking his legs from beneath him. I evidently kicked him too hard because his legs snapped off like toothpicks and landed a good ten feet away.

  When I recoiled my grappling hook, the attached zombie head exploded in a splatter of blood; I whipped it at the newly amputated zombie, tearing him in half.

  The lesser decayed individuals were surprisingly fast. Several more tried to overwhelm me. When one got close enough, I slammed my fist into his torso, only to find it was the consistency of Jell-O and I fell forward from my momentum. The zombie was underneath me when we hit the ground. On impact, what was left of his body made a sploshing sound, much like an exploding water balloon. I desperately resisted the urge to hurl. The smell alone was bad enough, let alone bathing in its entrails. The ick factor was ginormous.

  I leapt to my feet, slipping slightly in the putrefied bodily fluids. The others didn’t seem to care about their comrade’s fate and kept closing in on me.

  I did a backwards flip, landing on top of a dumpster fifteen feet away. There was something to be said about having the high ground and presumably this would keep me at a safer distance.

  A short and once-round individual came lumbering forward in the classic zombie pose, moaning either out of instinct or from the air in his lungs escaping through his vocal chords. I was by no means unarmed, but I silently thought how much more convenient a chainsaw would have been right about now.

  He came closer still and I dropped on all fours, then spun around on one foot while the other made contact with his face, sending the fleshy parts of h
is head flying. His skull simply slid off his bare neck, rolled off his arm and landed in a shallow puddle. Even decapitated he still tried to take me down, but he didn’t get very far. I yanked off his arms and threw them as far away as I could.

  Man, these guys are worse than cockroaches, I mused.

  In life these individuals would likely have looked very different from each other, but now they looked eerily similar. So much so I could hardly distinguish them from each other. It did help ease my conscience that they only looked vaguely human. As sad of a thought it was, these were no longer people, but mindless drones.

  As if to prove my point, another one crept forward, walking over his fallen friend. I had plenty of time to backflip out of the way and devise another method of execution. Crouching on top of a split-lid dumpster, I opened the other half and slammed it down so hard it crushed the monster’s head. For good measure, I jumped up and landed hard on the metal lid to make sure he was down for the count. It was almost comical to see his arms thrashing about wildly, trying in vain to find his head.

  Luckily for me, the zombies weren’t overly smart. The next one in line trudged forward just like the others before him. I grinned, showing my fangs, not for show but because another evil thought manifested itself.

  I grabbed the corner of the lid once again and slammed it against the building behind it, decapitating this zombie as well. I didn’t care if I kept having to use the same tactic all the time. It was working and that’s all that mattered.

  Several more zombies were grouping together about ten feet away from me. I grabbed the dumpster lid once again, but this time I ripped it off its hinges and hurled it like a discus at the swarm, cleaving them all in two.

  The only thing the zombies really had working in their favour was their sheer numbers. But even that wouldn’t last forever.

  Still, I couldn’t get cocky, regardless how easy it was to kill them off. Cockiness led to mistakes.

  With my half of the zombies finished off I looked over at David.

  He kept his distance while he shot several of them, but it did little damage and more were closing in. Only one thought came to mind and I was sure David wouldn’t like it.

  It only took two short bounds to get close to him. I fended off the nearest attackers, picked David up, and sprinted to a garbage bin a half a block away.

  He’s going to kill me, I thought, but at least he’ll be safe.

  I opened up the dumpster, gently tossed David in and closed it behind him. Just to make sure no walking undead got to him before me, I gripped the lid as hard as I could, making it buckle and crimping it to the front wall of the container. I was certain the zombies couldn’t open it and get to him.

  “Nightcat!” David shouted from inside as he banged on the walls as hard as he could. “LET ME OUT!”

  “I will!” I hollered back, “as soon as I’m done killing these things off.”

  I’m sure David wasn’t thrilled about being in such a wretched-smelling place, but at least I could concentrate on killing the zombies permanently and not worry about his safety.

  David kept banging and screaming my name, but I was too busy to respond.

  When I turned around, I was faced with an almost completely intact individual. He must have been recently infected because he still retained many human features, albeit looking a little anemic.

  “I’ve never liked cats,” he hissed. “Evil little creatures they are.”

  “I bet you say that to all the girls.” As I spoke, I mentally geared myself up to take him down. He’d likely prove more of a challenge than the others, but he was so human-like by comparison that I’d have a hard time psychologically coming to grips with it. For the first time, I felt a twinge of envy for Raphael’s amorality.

  I wanted to avoid getting too close, so I jumped up onto the side of the building, claws digging into the brickwork. I scurried over to the fire escape and yanked two metal balusters off the guard rail.

  “If you’re trying to scare me, it isn’t working,” he said smugly.

  I had initially thought of beating him with the metal rods, but a better plan came to mind.

  Holding the one like a javelin, I launched it in his direction. He might have been faster than his buddies, but even a living athlete would have had problems getting out of the way fast enough.

  The twisted metal rod went through his left eye socket and hit the building behind it. He was brought to his knees, but still had some undead life in him.

  To make sure it would cause more damage, I bent the metal rod into the shape of a ball and hurled it at his torso, taking a large chunk out and putting him down for the count.

  There were a couple more contenders waiting on the sidelines. I wasn’t sure if they were actually mulling the idea in their minds or if they were waiting for me to make the first move.

  As much as it disgusted me, I knew I would have to go hand-to-hand with them. The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine.

  With one last fleeting thought of how long it would take to wash the rotting-flesh odor out of my fur, I leapt toward one of them and before he had time to react, I ripped his arms right from the socket, and shoved one through the fleshy part under the jaw and into what was left of his brain.

  My sixth sense warned me that one was in close proximity. I knew he was behind me from the direction of the scent. I knocked his legs out from under him with my tail, and using the other dismembered arm, drove it into his mouth and through the other end of his skull.

  I was reacting so much on instinct that when I turned around to meet another attacker, I realized there was none. All I heard was David screaming and banging on the dumpster.

  “I’m coming!” I shouted, hoping he could hear me.

  He continued to bang on it, so much so I was getting a headache from the noise.

  “I’m here, David, I’m here.” He must have heard me because the noise instantly stopped.

  I ripped open the lid and he sprung up like a jack-in-the-box.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” he said as he wiped off the remnants of someone’s bagged leftovers.

  I had to take a step back. The smell was so intense I was afraid I’d throw up.

  I coughed a few times before answering him. “I’m sorry.” I coughed again. “It was the only thing I could think of to keep you safe.”

  “And for that I thank you, but do you have any idea how long it’ll take me to wash this stuff off? Eau de dumpster is very hard to get out.”

  “Perhaps, but I’d be willing to help you with that,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood. “I mean, it’s my fault that you smell like skunk vomit.”

  “So I guess this means you got them all?” David looked around as he continued to pull old spaghetti from his hair.

  “I think so. Doesn’t look like there are any other contenders.”

  “So now what?” he asked.

  “I guess we call Raphael so he can dispose of the bodies. I’m sure as hell not cleaning that mess up.”

  “But yet you can put up with cleaning up my mess?”

  “I guess we’ll find out,” I said.

  There’s Something

  Rotten Up North

  by

  A.P. Fuchs

  The operation had been simple: dig through the cave-in of ’97, secure the cave’s ceiling, then try and rediscover the vein of gold old man Rogers had claimed to have found before the roof came down.

  Harvey Goodwin had been in charge of the find, one thousand meters below the Flin Flon mine. He knew from past experience that digging up an old cave-in was a bad idea, but the brass wanted their gold and he wanted his job, so who was he to argue? But there was a problem: the cave-in had occurred fourteen years ago, the miners who had been trapped having never been found, the area around the collapse—at the time—too unstable for a recovery dig. The town was outraged at the nonchalance of the mine, one that had been in operation for over fifty years, the country at large—even some places in the world�
��pouring in the hate mail and claiming company negligence. Except money talked and those in charge walked, and as the years passed by, so did the memory of those lost.

  Harvey’s brother, Lionel, had been part of the catastrophic dig. Went to work early one morning just like always . . . and never came home. Now, it was up to Harvey to slowly remove the giant rocks and debris and hope for a way through to the other side. But if his brother was indeed back there—if indeed Lionel and the crew hadn’t found or attempted another way out—he shuddered at the thought of what he might find, the skeletons long buried.

  Harvey led his crew deep underground, bringing with them the rigs and tools required to carefully unearth what was supposed to be a major vein of gold. The other men in his crew were relatively new, most having started working at the mine after the accident.

  Deep in the dark, Harvey and his men got to work, testing the stones, checking for weaknesses; the lanterns they brought down and the battery-powered lights on their helmets did little to illuminate the inky darkness. An endless sea of shadows was the world around them, the rocks quiet, still, just waiting to reveal what was held within.

  “Gabriel!” Rod Hunter shouted at him from behind his desk. “I said get me the coffee not throw it on me.”

  Gabriel Garrison stood there, shoulders slumped, a hollow pang circulating throughout his chest. He hated having to pretend being such a klutz, but that was part of his disguise, one he started over a year ago and one he was lately beginning to regret having created. “Sorry, Mr. Hunter. Didn’t mean to. Misjudged the distance between the edge of the table and your lap and—”

  Rod glared at him, eyes cool. Then, quickly, he stood and stormed out of his office, bumping Gabriel’s shoulder in the process. “Go back to work,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the room.

  Gabriel sighed and made his way back to his cubicle. Hours in a call centre ticked by slowly on some days, each minute filled with angry clients wondering about charges on their credit cards and why the interest rates were so high. It wasn’t the most glamorous job in the world, but it paid better than most out there and helped him keep a roof over his head.