Metahumans vs the Undead: A Superhero vs Zombie Anthology

by Eric S. Brown

  Just don’t know if I want to stay here forever, he thought, then sat down and put his headset back on. He stared at his monitor a moment before logging back into his phone and getting ready for the next call.

  The tone sounded in his ear and the customer’s file popped up on the screen. As he began the verification process, he noticed his email tab at the bottom of the monitor stating he had a couple of new messages. Quickly, he switched screens, temporarily distracted from his call.

  The new emails were all from newsfeeds across the Web, all subscriptions based on keywords to help notify him if something terrible had happened outside the office’s walls.

  “Hello? You there? Look, I’m—” The customer, a Mr. Andrews, didn’t sound none too pleased.

  “Sorry about that,” Gabriel said. “Can I put you on hold for a moment?”

  “What? Why? Fine. Whatever. Just don’t take too long because I got to head out in a minute.”

  “Thank you.” Gabriel hit the hold button then double-clicked on the message that came in. One of his keywords appeared several times in the article: death. And it was local enough of to be of concern.

  Flin Flon, Manitoba

  Local residents of the well-known mining town are coming forward with reports of people disappearing on a regular basis, right now at an estimate of one person every sixteen minutes. Also reported is a strange smell on the air, one a resident described as a mix of rotten meat and half-processed compost.

  RCMP are currently investigating the matter, but have ruled out the possibility of false reporting from the townsfolk.

  Many are fleeing the town, worried they might be the next to disappear.

  Rotten meat. Compost. Gabriel knew the smell being described. He’d encountered it himself once before during an accidental trip to a parallel world while searching for a missing boy months ago.

  “I got to go,” he said to himself and stood from his chair.

  Rod was making his way back to his office between the cubicles and the moment he caught sight of Gabriel, he gave him a firm look as he passed by, and pointed with a rigid finger to the coffee stain on his pants.

  He’s going to kill me, Gabriel thought, adjusting his glasses, but it has to be done. Though he hated doing it, he quickly disconnected his call with Mr. Andrews, turned off the phone and logged off his machine. If Rod took note of it on his end, Gabriel would swiftly walk out of there and pretend to not notice him.

  Grabbing his cardigan, he threw it over his arm and headed toward the call floor’s main door. In the hallway, he weaved through a few people getting off the elevator, rounded the corner, and hit the stairwell. The rooftop entrance he’d been using since almost the beginning of his crusade would be his ticket out of here.

  Taking the steps two at a time, he ran up the stairs, only slowing once when a few others were on their way down them, then picked up speed in his race to the top. Once there, he unlocked the padlock on the door, got inside, and immediately tore off his clothes to reveal the dark and light blue uniform underneath. Slowing his breathing, he focused and shifted, his powers igniting and sending a shockwave of energy through his system.

  Mask in place, Axiom-man took the ladder to the roof hatch, got outside, and closed the hatch behind himself.

  “North,” he said. Might take a while, but if what’s going on up there is what I think it is, many more will die today.

  He ran to the roof’s edge, threw out his arms, and took to the sky.

  When he first got his powers, Axiom-man had only been able to fly at around sixty kilometers an hour—but his powers had a secret function, he later learned. They operated on use. The more he used them, the stronger he got, the faster he could fly, the more damage the energy beams that blasted out of his eyes could cause.

  These days, he was hitting around a hundred kilometers an hour. Not ultra speed by any stretch of the imagination, but when one is traveling that fast with nothing between you and the wind blasting into your face but a thin piece of cloth, it was fast enough for the time being.

  About eight hours later, some of the trip eyeing the skyline, the rest with his head down and cutting over the roads below—part of it to ensure he took the right way there, the other to avoid the wind slamming the air to the back of his throat and taking his breath away—Flin Flon came up on the horizon, all hills and valleys, with roads going up and down and buildings and houses set up along each. Enormous rocks and boulders covered the landscape.

  The town was empty.

  RCMP cars, five of them, dotted the streets, no sign of the officers.

  Having gone through this type of ghostly discovery before, Axiom-man got himself ready and made his descent into town, doing so as discreetly as possible by landing behind the Royal Hotel on Main Street. It was night. The streetlights were lit up.

  Some folks are in bed. Others— He knew what happened.

  The online newspaper had been right: death was on the air. Axiom-man knew that smell all too well and memories from his time encountering himself as an undead creature in an alternate universe crept into his mind, sending a shiver through him. He hoped that what was happening now wasn’t his fault, that he hadn’t somehow left a portal open and unknowingly let the undead through.

  He walked down the street, listening carefully for anything that might give away the presence of one of the dead.

  Wish I had X-Ray vision, he thought. Would make this a lot easier and I could just scan the buildings. He kept close to the window displays of the stores, the mannequins within seeming all the more lifelike as they stared out into the street.

  A shrill shriek pierced his ears. He immediately spun in the direction of the scream.

  Squinting against the dim streetlights, he said, “Come on, where are you?”

  His feet left the ground and he floated quickly down the street.

  The girl screamed again, louder.

  I’m getting closer, he thought.

  Axiom-man kept up on the trail until he came upon an open field with few trees and a giant hill of rock that ran at least two hundred feet high, a water tower for the town at the top.

  At the base of the hill, people loomed about, all gathered together, rocking side to side on their feet. Their moans were unmistakable.

  “I can’t believe this has happened here,” Axiom-man said to himself, and threw his arms out like before and gave it all he had, heading for the creatures.

  The shriek sounded again.

  “I’m coming!” he called and hit the brakes on his flight the moment he burst through the group of the dead.

  A woman lay on the ground, blonde hair, her black blouse and red skirt a mess of blood.

  Heavy hands immediately grabbed him by the shoulders the moment his feet touched down.

  “Get away from me,” he said and punched the first of the dead between the eyes. The creature’s head snapped back and the crack of its vertebrae assured him of its demise.

  Taking a hand of another creature off his shoulder, Axiom-man jerked the undead man’s arm free from its socket and kicked the creature in the chest, sending it flying back into two others and giving both him and the woman on the ground some room.

  “Help . . . me . . .” the woman on the ground said.

  Axiom-man had just enough time to merely nod before a rotting teenager with half his skull missing threw itself at him. He delivered a swift punch across the teen’s head, sending its jaw and skull into a one-eighty. The teen hit the ground.

  Axiom-man readied his eyes and his vision became masked in bright blue light. He peered through the blue haze and focused on the faint outlines of the dead around him. He let the energy gush from his eyes, each blast hitting the dead head-on, wrecking burnt holes through their heads and chests.

  The moaning of the zombies crescendoed . . . then faded altogether.

  Axiom-man absorbed the energy back into his eyes and all became clear again.

  The woman lay at his feet. “I need . . . I need . . .” Each wo
rd barely came out. Axiom-man knelt down, about to pick her up and take her to the hospital, then saw why the woman could barely speak. On the other side of her body was one of her lungs, torn clean out through the ribcage that was supposed to protect it.

  “It’s okay, I got you,” he said as gently as possible. But his words were too late.

  She was dead.

  All he could do was slowly stand up and let his heart sink into his stomach. The rotting corpses of the undead lay strewn about, their carcasses smoking after receiving a healthy dose of blue energy.

  “I’m sorry,” was all he could manage to say to the woman. I hope you’re in a better place now. But he knew that wasn’t true. If she was like the other undead he’d encountered in his life, very shortly she’d return and try and eat him. Doing his best to ignore what he was doing and just get it over with, Axiom-man sent a quick shot of blue energy between the woman’s eyes, straight into the brain. He hoped it would keep her down.

  Fighting the heaviness of guilt at what he’d just done—despite the woman potentially becoming a monster, killing was killing—he floated up to the top of the giant rocky hill and stood next to the water tower looking out over the town. He wondered how many of the people out there were alive and how many were dead.

  Except whoever is alive are either boarded up in a house or seeking safety out of the town. From his vantage point he took note of many cars missing from driveways. Some of the roads were streaked with black skid marks as, no doubt, people made a squealing getaway.

  There was no manual for doing what he did, and what the comics and movies preached about being a superhero was bunk. Finding clues or just “knowing what do” was not how this job played out. Sometimes, it was mere chance he was able to put things together and solve an issue as quickly as he could. Other times, the trail went cold, cases unsolved, people never brought to justice.

  The loud crack of a gun tore through the silence.

  He scanned below for the source of the sound.

  Another crack went off and he thought he caught a quick flash in his peripheral.

  Swiftly, he flew off the rock and headed toward where he thought the flash came from.

  The gun went off again. Axiom-man adjusted his course.

  Below, a couple of people coated in shadow ran down the street. A little further away, a handful of creatures shuffled after them. Beyond the undead, bodies dotted the ground.

  Axiom-man kicked up the speed, swiftly flew over the running people’s heads, and landed on the other side of them, ready to face the creatures head-on. Six zombies stumbled toward him, four male, two female, all in various stages of decay, the worst mostly tattered flesh and bone. Eyes fixed on him, the dead rallied around, hands already pawing at the air, eager to get a grip.

  The sudden memory of having been in this position before, Axiom-man found his attitude and posture adjusting. It was time to do what needed to be done or more lives would be in danger. Two of the undead men grabbed his arms from either side. With a mighty pull, Axiom-man yanked them in front of him, slamming their bodies together. The men’s heads smacked into each other and cracked upon impact. Black blood leaked from the fractures in the skulls. Another push and pull and the two bodies collided again, their heads gushing open, black blood and gray matter spilling out. The undead bodies went limp in his hands. He dropped them, ready to take on the female coming toward him.

  Her spacy glare reminded him that the undead were merely shells of human beings, a kind of machine simply running on autopilot, just going through the motions.

  The zombie woman’s mouth was open. He put his hand out to stop her. Her head and mouth changed course and went immediately for his fingers. Axiom-man snatched his fingers away and jumped up into the air, delivering a hard kick to her chest. Ribs cracked beneath his foot on impact. She tumbled backward. He landed on top of her. Another kick, and he sent her head flying off her body like a soccer ball.

  Two undead men and one undead woman remained.

  Axiom-man quickly scanned the street, checking to see if the two folks running from the undead were still around. He couldn’t see them, but that didn’t mean they were gone.

  He had to quickly refocus his attention on the zombified man that clawed at his stomach as if he was trying to dig through to his intestines. With a shove, Axiom-man pushed the man’s hand away, spun around and backfisted the zombie in the head. The creature dropped. Before he could check if the monster was dead, the remaining female came, a blonde, one whose wax paper-like skin hung to her skeleton as though it was a silk nightgown on a hanger. He reached around and grabbed her by the back of the head. Taking off high into the air, he brought her body up then dove straight toward the ground and slammed it face down into the pavement, shattering her face and mushing it to a pulp. There was no way she was rising again.

  The last undead just stood there, his gaze empty. Axiom-man prepared himself for an attack, but instead the creature just slowly shuffled from foot to foot.

  Attacking me or not, he has to die, Axiom-man thought.

  He let his eyes fill with blue energy, then sent a quick zap through the air and shot the creature in the head. The zombie hit the pavement and moved no more.

  “Okay, need to find those people,” he said, “make sure they’re all right.” His feet left the ground. A second later, something grabbed his ankle and tugged him back down. The zombie he wasn’t sure was dead or not still had some fight left. Landing, Axiom-man pulled his foot away, planted his feet firmly, and delivered a hard punch to the side of the zombie’s head, causing it to swivel on its neck almost a full three-sixty.

  Axiom-man was already in the sky before the thing hit the ground.

  Now, from this high vantage point, he could survey the area for any more survivors and hopefully confirm the two he just saved were indeed okay.

  The lot of Mike’s Ice N’ Burger Hut was empty, not a single car. The KFC parking lot across the street had just one vehicle, a rusty old truck with a smashed window, but no sign of life. Even the undead seemed to be absent at the moment.

  To the left, two bodies were scaling the high and steep rock face leading up to the town’s water tower.

  I was just there, Axiom-man thought. He flew in for a closer look. When the people came into focus, he was relieved to see it was the same two he just rescued.

  Below, shambling through the field toward the rock, were several rows of zombies, traveling in a staggered line.

  Axiom-man bent forward and flew to the rockface, landing on a small outcrop of rock just as the two folks climbed their way to the same point. When they arrived face to face with him, they were void of expression, almost as if they had expected him to catch up with them.

  “Don’t mean to startle you,” Axiom-man said, “but—”

  “You didn’t,” the man cut in. His wavy black hair blew in the breeze.

  The redhead with a face covered in freckles eyed Axiom-man up and down. “Let’s keep moving.” She glanced down to the rock’s base where the zombies began to gather.

  “Good idea,” the man said.

  Axiom-man held out his hands, palms up. “Let me take you.”

  The man looked at the redhead then down to his feet. “Yeah, whatever.”

  Axiom-man stepped forward, reached around both of their waists, then floated to the top of the rock. He landed when he was sure it was safe and that nothing had somehow stumbled its way up there from the other side.

  He let go of them and took a couple of steps back.

  “Thank you,” the woman said. “I’m Ivy.” She gestured to the man. “This is Ross.”

  “Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Axiom-man said. He didn’t want to spend too much time on pleasantries, so he cut right to it. “When did this happen?”

  “Those things?” Ivy said.

  Axiom-man nodded.

  “Yesterday, late. There were a bunch of them. From what I know based on what Ross told me and what I saw, it seems quite a few of t
hose things came down from the hills and made their attack.”

  “Probably easy things to beat, to a point,” Ross said, “but I saw folks going up to them, probably thinking they were just people in makeup, acting weird. You know, for show. I mean, if this town does anything right it’s drinkin’, so seeing people acting stupid is nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “Especially when you know everyone,” Ivy said. “Either go up and laugh with them, or see if they’re all right if they look like they’re having trouble or something.”

  The groans of the dead called from below. Axiom-man peered over the edge. Some had made it a few feet up the rock to where it was more level, like stairs. They hadn’t figured out the steeper parts yet.

  “Then—?” Axiom-man asked.

  “Don’t know,” Ross said and put his hands on his hips. “Seems their numbers just grew. Anyone who approached them were quickly mauled, some even devoured. Other folks just went missing. Some of the boys and I pulled out our rifles and tried to rescue who we could. Problem was, the things wouldn’t stay down. Only a couple did, but I don’t know why. Maybe’d hit them in their Achilles heel, if they have one.”

  “The head,” Axiom-man said immediately. If these dead were vulnerable the same way as the ones in the parallel universe, then by removing the head or killing the brain, the creatures would die and stay dead.

  “How do you know?”

  “Experience.”

  “Do tell.”

  Ivy said, “In the end, that’s what we do? Try and, what, shoot ’em in the head?”

  “Yes,” Axiom-man said. To Ross: “Still have your gun?”

  The man shook his head. “Lost it while running.”

  “Know where?”

  “Somewhere up on Hillcrest.”

  “And that’s—?”

  He glanced back over his shoulder and did a nod in that direction. “Up and over, more at the top of the hill, past the lights, a bit on the other side of the church with the big silver spires.”