Plague Unleashed (The Intern Diaries Book 2)

by D. C. Gomez

  “Fine Ms. Isis, not the terrorist group, how may I help you?” David was very arrogant.

  “Has anyone approached you with a potential deal to maybe help them make zombies?” I knew I sounded crazy as soon as the words left my mouth.

  “Zombies? Girl, please. What do you think this is, the sixties? Nobody is in that business anymore.”

  I looked at David closely and realized Bob was doing the same. He didn’t look a day over thirty. How was he familiar with the sixties? That was impossible?

  “How old are you?” I demanded. David gave me a questioning look. “Never mind. So you haven’t heard of anyone trying to make zombies around here?” I was desperate.

  “Nope. They’d be crazy to even think about it—even more, to do it. Necromancers and zombie- making in any capacity is an automatic death sentence by the Order, unless Death finds you first. So, no. Nobody is that crazy anymore.”

  Great. If David was right, that ruled out most of the supernatural community. Now what?

  “Do you have any more questions? If not, I got a dinner I’m catering, and you’re wasting my time.”

  He caters. This was insane.

  “No, that was all. Thank you for your time and sorry about your door.” I was sorry about the door. I wondered if our insurance would replace it.

  “I would say it was a pleasure, but let’s not do this again. OK?”

  Before we could reply, David had pushed us out of his house with some invisible force and slammed the door in our faces.

  “Hey, that went well,” Bob said, smiling at me. We needed to work on his definitions. Before I could reply, we heard loud screams from across the street. “The elementary school, hurry.”

  Bob didn’t have to tell me twice.

  We sprinted across the street to find a scene right out of a nightmare. We both jumped the short fence toward the playground. It appeared three of the kids had gone zombie and were terrorizing everyone. I quickly switched guns, putting my Smith & Wesson on my back holster and pulling out the paintball gun. I had never shot at small moving targets, and I found out it was harder than I imagined. I took aim and hit a couple of the victims instead of the little zombies. Bob managed to get one that was getting ready to jump one of my collateral damages.

  After five kids were down, I finally got the little redheaded kid. I was sure that kid was not even seven years old, but he moved with a purpose. He could have been a leprechaun for all I knew. From the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of movement. I was too slow to turn and aim. Fortunately, Bob saw the little round kid moving at me, ready to bite. I was pretty sure if that kid took a bite out of me, I would get infected. The kid went down fast. I felt really bad; these rounds were designed for adults. I had no idea how they were going to affect children.

  We had screaming kids everywhere. Some had been bitten; others were scratched. It was a horrible, messy sight. I went over and picked up a little girl. She was pushed on the ground and couldn’t get up. I was afraid they had broken her leg. She screamed when she saw the gun and went into panic mode. I felt terrible, but I shot her too. We didn’t need extra screaming kids. Not to mention she wouldn’t be in pain till we got her fixed. Bob made his way toward the teachers, who looked terrified. I wasn’t sure what he was saying, but he was calming them down. I picked up my phone and call Reapers again.

  “Now what?” Constantine hissed at the phone.

  “We got serious problems. We just knocked out three zombies, all under the ages of eight,” I told Constantine as I examine the area.

  “This just got worse. I’m sending the cleanup crew and Father Francis. We’re going to need a respected source to move those kids. Secure the perimeter and make sure nobody else turns. Will debrief when you guys get back.”

  We had such a huge mess now, I didn’t even mind when Constantine hung up. I put my paintball gun away to avoid scaring more kids. We had no idea how many of these little ones were infected. How could anyone hurt innocent children just to prove they were a better intern? This was madness.

  Chapter 23

  The loft was empty when Bob and I came in. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. It took Father Francis over two hours to get everyone calmed down and able to move the children. I had no idea how he handled his job. Kids were crying, parents were panicking, school staff was upset they might get sued, and we still had to get the children to the church. Zombies and zombie-makers were going on my list of least favorite supernatural creatures. They sucked the life out of you. I dropped all my guns on the dining table and collapsed on the couch.

  “This is officially my worse week ever,” I said aloud, not sure if Bob was listening.

  “You said that three weeks ago, after chasing the ghost in Seattle,” Bob reminded me from the kitchen.

  “That was awful. I smelled like seaweed all week long. Not to mention my hair was all matted and tangled.” I was sent to find a poor soul that had drowned in Seattle. The poor guy drowned at sunset, and every evening he would appear screaming for help. The entire area was starting to get spooked. Unfortunately getting him out of the water was a nightmare. Every time I got close enough to catch him, he went under water. It took me three days to finally get to him. I was pretty sure I swallowed enough ocean to fill an aquarium. “This is an omen; we are destined to have horrible weeks. How do people that work in morgues or funeral homes handle it?”

  “Easy, Bob said. “They don’t talk to the ghost; they just fix the body.”

  That was a valid point. Bob was good at analyzing situations. I wasn’t sure I wanted to work on a dead body.

  “I think I’m making cupcakes. I picked this gluten-free cake mix at the Granary yesterday. I think I can make mini pineapple upside-down cakes. What do you think?”

  I thought we shouldn’t visit any more foodies in town, so Bob didn’t get food envy. Naturally, I couldn’t tell him that. Instead, I leaned my head over the couch so I could see him better.

  “Bob, if anyone can make a gluten-free cake taste like pineapple upside down, it’s you. You got my vote.” I did my part in moral support for the day. Bob was beaming with joy. After years of seeing the worst in people when he was living on the streets, very little bothered Bob. He empathized with people, but he never took it home with him. I might need to learn that someday.

  I started to get comfortable on the couch and was dozing off. For a leather couch, this thing was a sleep magnet. If you were ever tired, the couch would lure you to slumber. I was getting pretty relaxed when I heard the door slam open. I jumped at least two feet in the air from the sound.

  “What is going on?” I was pretty sure I shouted it.

  “We got a problem; it’s not in the drugs.” Eugene looked like he’d been hit by lightning. His lab coat was all crumpled up, and he had stains everywhere. That was the fifth coat he’d destroyed in two days. I was starting to wonder what exactly he was doing down there. Ink fights?

  “Yup, we figured that out,” I yelled from the couch. Sleep was out of the question with Eugene looking all frazzled. I got up and took a seat in a dining chair. At least I could see him better.

  “How did you know? It took me hours sorting through lab results to get to that conclusion.” Eugene was not happy we had stolen his thunder.

  “We got three elementary students attacking the playground, all under seven years old. It was a pretty good guess all three were not in a gang selling dope on the street.” I gave him a flat look that managed to calm him down.

  “OK, that’s an excellent deduction.” Eugene took a seat as he spoke. At least he wasn’t pacing like a maniac.

  “Please tell me you figured out how your plague is getting into their systems.” I was adding Pestilence to my list of least favorite supernatural creatures. I didn’t care if she was technically family.

  “I have been running a test on all our patients. They have no needle marks anyw
here. Ana said she and Joe hadn’t inhaled anything abnormal.” Eugene looked at his notes. Somehow that boy was always carrying notes.

  “So…what’s your conclusion here, Sherlock?”

  “They eat it.” Eugene followed that statement with a shoulder shrug, making him look innocent. I wasn’t sure what to reply. I looked at him and then at Bob, who was staring at him.

  “You do know that’s worse than drugs,” Bob said to Eugene. Eugene just nodded. “We live in Texas. Do you know how many food places we have in Texarkana alone?”

  Bob had a point. If we did something big in town, it was eating. I dropped my head on the table.

  “I think so far this is the worst week ever,” I told Bob with my head still down. We had no leads, a bunch of zombies, and now tons of possible locations to search. Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Bartholomew’s College Bowl was taking place in two days. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream or cry. Before I could do either, Bob put a huge mug of hot chocolate in front of me. He gave one to Eugene as well. He even added extra marshmallows.

  “Thank you, Bob,” Eugene and I said at the same time.

  “Jinx.” We did it again. I started laughing, and Bob just shook his head. According to Bob, hunger leads to horrible decision-making, so whenever things were going bad, he fed us. Crazy idea, but I was feeling calmer. Maybe Bob was right.

  The kitchen door burst open again. Why was everyone slamming that poor door today? Constantine came into view, followed closely behind by Bartholomew.

  “I have info on the boyfriend.” Bartholomew was almost yelling with excitement.

  “Great. Do you know where he lives?” I was ready for some good news.

  “Not exactly. I have a couple of old addresses. Maybe one of the people who currently live there can help us out,” Bart replied.

  “Cheer up, Bart. It’s better than nothing. Let’s go.”

  “Not so fast. We got other pressing matters,” Constantine said as he jumped on the kitchen island. Bob put a bowl of hot chocolate in front of him and another on the table for Bartholomew. Either Bob was always prepared, or he had a sixth sense I knew nothing about.

  “More pressing than finding the accountant?” I had no idea what could be more critical.

  “We have a customer complaint that you must handle tonight.”

  I stared at Constantine with my mug in midair.

  “You get customers’ complaints?” Eugene said, more like a question than a statement.

  “I have no idea. This is the first time I’ve heard of it. What customer is complaining?” I put my mug down and waited for an answer.

  “You’re not going to like it. Your favorite devil, Mr. Jake.” Constantine said it before licking more of his hot chocolate. I slapped my head with my hand. This week was getting worse by the minute.

  “When you say favorite devil, what exactly do you mean by that?” I forgot Eugene lived in an underground lab away from the rest of the world. He probably had never met Jake.

  “He means Lucifer,” Bob said, “Prince of Darkness. The deceiver, the fallen angel. You know, that guy fighting to get your soul.”

  Bob did not like Jake at all. According to Bob, Jake gave him the creeps, and he avoided him pretty much like he avoided the plague. Funny thing, we were hanging out with both in one week.

  “You are kidding, right?” Poor Eugene, he was having a hard time catching up here. “Do you have to go and see him?”

  “Technically, you’re going too.” Constantine dropped that bomb on Eugene like it was nothing. I was pretty sure Eugene just changed colors.

  “What?” That was all Eugene could say.

  “Why is Eugene coming with me?” I figured I could help my boy out before he gave himself a heart attack.

  “It’s Latin night at the Cave, and only couples are allowed. This is intern’s work, and it just happens to be Eugene is an intern.” Constantine looked at Eugene, waiting for him to pass out. I held my breath, waiting for his reply.

  “Latin night? Are we going to a club? I’m in.”

  That was the quickest change of attitude I had ever seen in my life. Bartholomew had stopped drinking his hot chocolate and was staring at Eugene, confused.

  “You’re willing to go see the devil as long as it’s in a club? That’s crazy.”

  “I took ballroom dancing in college. I haven’t been dancing in years.” Eugene looked around the room, excited as he continued talking. “Come on now, you’ve seen where I work.” Eugene had an excellent point. I doubted he ever saw people besides those crazy interns and the few in the support department. After this incident, I doubt they would ever see any of the support people again.

  “You got me there. But can you dance?” Bob was not letting this go. I was surprised he was still following the conversation while he made his cupcakes.

  “I was pretty good. I even went to a few competitions. It’s been a while, so I might be a little rusty.” Eugene was so excited he was beaming.

  “In that case, I guess we’re going dancing. Cheers.” I gave him an air salute with my mug, and he returned the cheer.

  “Well now that we settled that, Eugene needs some clothes.” Constantine was full of surprises today.

  “Yeah, dude. You can’t go in your lab coat to a club. Even I know that.”

  “You’re in charge of getting Eugene ready,” Constantine told Bob, who was putting cupcakes in the oven.

  “Too easy, boss. Eugene, my man, are you ready for a make-over?”

  Eugene was looking at Bob a little stunned. This was happening to us a lot lately. “Isis, would you watch the cupcakes while I’m gone? Twenty minutes, stick in a toothpick, and if it comes out clean, take them out. Wait at least ten minutes before taking them out of the muffin tin.”

  “I got it.” I gave him a huge nod for added reassurance. With Bob around, we were all designated sous-chef duties. Bob headed out of the kitchen with Eugene rushing behind him.

  “So, where is the entrance this time?” I asked Constantine. The Cave was Jake’s private club, and you were only allowed in by invitation or special card. Entrances to the cave appeared in different locations throughout the world. The site of the Cave also changed, depending on Jake’s mood.

  “At the front of FCI.” Constantine said the last part softly.

  “What? Are you kidding me? He placed the entrance in front of the Federal Correction Institution?” There was a reason you should never trust the devil.

  “I told you he had a complaint. Not a social call, so he’s not going to make this easy. I recommend you bring some music to keep the guards and wondering neighbors away.”

  Constantine had a point. The last thing we needed was to get arrested for trespassing on federal property.

  “Guess I have work to do before the boys get back.” I looked over at the oven, trying to figure out how to listen to the timer from my soundproofed room. I guessed I needed to set my alarm.

  “I got the cupcakes, Isis. I got more research to do on the boyfriend up here.”

  Bartholomew was a saint. I smiled and winked at him.

  “Thanks, Bart. Let me get started.” Being Death’s intern came with some perks. Recently we had discovered that I could make my music do more than just knock people out. Depending on my intentions, I could add other subconscious messages to them. One message I was good at sending now was to stay away from an area. I needed a new recording that would blend with the area. I had hard metal, and in Texas, that would draw attention. I guessed today we were playing country. I left the kitchen and headed toward my room to work.

  Chapter 24

  We didn’t have a dress code as interns. What we did have were categories of outfits. For me, I had three main categories: normal standard work clothes, consisting of jeans or cargo pants, T-shirts, and running shoes. That was for regular days to run around town looking for
lost souls or just everyday research. We had combat gear, which looked a lot like military-issue fatigues, except all black and made to repel magic spells as well as bullets. The last category—and the strangest one—was what I called costume outfits. Those were the ones you needed when you were trying to blend in at specific locations. My costumes ranged from nurse’s uniforms, maids uniforms, to even Catholic school uniforms. I was pretty sure if my godmother ever looked in my closet she would panic, just jumping to conclusions.

  After several occasions of getting kicked out of places and other times getting beat up, I learned to embrace the costumes. If they kept me alive and able to do the job, then my insecurities had to get out of the way. Tonight’s trip to the Cave required a costume outfit. I had on a black Latin dress, with a low back, one side longer than the other on the legs and lots of red sequins. It was the type you would see in Dancing with the Stars. Jake took his club very seriously, and the dress code had to match the theme. I learned that the hard way when I showed up wearing jeans and boots to a disco night and couldn’t get in.

  Eugene and I drove Ladybug down to FCI. I was still in shocked Jake had picked the prison for his entrance. He was the one who wanted to see me. Why did I need to get arrested in the process? Eugene looked amazing. He was wearing a black pinstripe suit with a red tie and a pair of Wolf Shepherd closed cap shoes. I had no idea how Bob had pulled it off, but Eugene had the swagger of a Latin guy.

  “You clean up well, Eugene.” I was hoping to distract him. He was holding on to the door handle for dear life.

  “We were aiming for a pit bull look. Did we pull it off?” He gave me a quick glance, then turned back toward the window.

  “You pulled it off. Now if you’d relax a little, it would be even more convincing,” I told him with a smile.

  “Isis, we’re going to see the devil. Aren’t you nervous?” His voice was a little shaky.