Risa and I spent an hour just looking at each other in wonder.
She asked a ton of questions. Of Dr. Carroway and of me. Growing up with me, living in close proximity to me, she’d taken some things for granted. So questions poured out of her, and smiling, I happily answered. I was just ecstatic that my sister hadn’t died.
Dr. Carroway explained that, in a way, she had. A new creature had been born out of Risa as the plague tried to overwhelm her body. In trying to turn her, the plague - now altered by the serum made from my blood’s antibodies - had forced her body to change, to adapt into this new form. She was like me.
As we all sat together eating a late breakfast, Dr. Carroway finally joined us for a minute.
“The people you brought to us in the other vehicle? They are all inoculated with the serum, and have all recovered from the plague. They are all resting now.”
“Except for me.”
“Leia!”
“Hey kiddo!”
“How’re you feeling?”
“Hey! High five!”
She sat down next to Risa, who put her arm around her.
“You okay?” Risa asked.
Leia gave her a sideways look. “My head is killing me.”
“Yeah, mine too.” She handed Leia a glass of water. “Here. This’ll help. Drink up.”
Risa felt weak but happy. In fact, she could not stop smiling. I guess cheating death did that to a person. Leia found herself famished and wolfed down two plates of eggs and bacon.
“Doctor?” I asked. I’d been wondering something for days, but had been too distracted to remember to ask him about it.
“What, my dear boy?” Dr. Carroway buttered a slice of toast and looked up at me, smiling.
“I wanted to ask you about this weird zombie we encountered a last week.” I began.
“That thing was the oddest creature I’ve ever encountered,” shivered Risa. “It was after us.”
“It was after Luke, actually,” said Dad. “Doctor, the zombies are changing again. This zombie was actually able to lead hundreds of other zombies. It was a new strain of the plague.”
DeAndre spoke up, “And don’t forget the crowd of zombies that asked us for help, instead of attacking. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“What??!” Doctor Carroway’s jaw dropped. We all began to speak at once, explaining what we’d encountered.
“…it called itself the zombie king!”
“…made off with Luke and Risa like ants with crumbs of food…”
“…kidnapping zombies…”
“…it told us they were after Luke. It said Luke was going to be the downfall of the zombies and they tried to stop us.”
“…it followed us from Thunder Bay, it was up inside the undercarriage of the SUV.”
“…bastard tried to kill Luke.”
“…called the other zombies, then they attacked…”
“…why on earth…?
“…how did it know about Luke?”
“…craziest thing…”
As we continued describing what we’d seen, the doctor’s face grew more and more pale.
“Oh, my god…” he said.
“What?” Dad asked. “Shhh. Everybody.” Dad turned to look at Dr. Carroway again. “Doctor, what?”
Doctor Carroway remained silent for a few seconds, his hand on his mouth. Then –
“Nelson.” His color paled and his eyes looked haunted. “It has to be. Brian Nelson.”
“Who?” Dad leaned in farther.
“You mean you know this zombie?”
Dr. Carroway began speaking. “Doctor Brian Nelson was one of our top scientists. He was a genius, a prodigy. He came to us from Switzerland, and he had mild psychic powers.”
“Get outta here.”
“Really?”
“I don’t believe in ‘psychic’ powers. Get real.”
“Shush, let him tell the story,” Dad said.
Dr. Carroway began again. “Nelson was our big project. It was kept very hush-hush.” The doctor took a drink of water and then continued. “After years of different experiments and procedures, we were able to heighten his abilities until he was as near to being telepathic as it is possible to be. We were government funded, you see, and they were desperate for something to fight this plague with.”
“Wait a minute,” DeAndre said. “How does a telepathic human fight a zombie plague?”
The doctor continued. “You must understand we were desperate, we were trying anything that might work. Anything.” He took a deep breath. “We were trying to send in a telepathic human, who could read minds, to try and see if he could disable the monsters that way. But a week into the trial phase of the experiment, a week after he went in, we lost contact with him. Nelson just … disappeared.”
“I’ll tell ya what happened, doc. He was infected. Bastard nearly got the better of us,” Jonathan fumed.
“I know, I realize that now. It was what we assumed. We just didn’t think he would …,” The doctor stopped there.
“Would what?” Dad asked. Silence. “Would what, doc?” he pressed.
“Would …” the doctor took a deep, shaky breathe and continued. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “Since Nelson had been altered, enhanced really, apparently when he was infected he must have retained some of his telepathic abilities. Did you say it could speak?” He looked up at us.
“Yes, it was the weirdest thing.” I said. “And it seemed to get better at it after speaking with us for a while.” I looked over at Risa, then took her hand and squeezed it. She was still looking wobbly. I gestured to the eggs and bacon, but she patted her belly to indicate she was full and smiled at me. Then the doctor continued.
“So the zombie retained its power of speech, however rusty at first.” Dr. Carroway said.
We all nodded.
“Well, part of his telepathy was honed to be a sort of power of persuasion.” Carroway said.
We looked at him blankly.
“ ‘Persuasion’?” Dad asked.
“Yes, Nelson could give a command and then reinforce it with a mental suggestion, telepathically. It was very effective. From the sounds of things, it seems that when he was infected and succumbed, the zombie he became retained this power of persuasion. There can be no other explanation as to why it was able to gather an army of fellow zombies. It must have also retained part of Nelson’s mind, his power of reasoning, his wits, if you will. You said it actually made sense when it spoke to you?” Carroway asked.
“Yes, it seemed completely lucid,” I answered.
He nodded, as if the picture were becoming clear to him now. “The ‘zombie king,’ as you call it, probably retained some of Nelson’s memories and used them in a desperate effort to survive. Every living thing has the instinct to survive, to avoid death, and while the zombies are not strictly alive anymore, because this creature retained some of Nelson’s mind, it probably had an incredible instinct and will to survive, much stronger than its fellow zombies. This makes sense. It knew about Luke here,” at this he looked over at me directly and gestured. “And it would have known that your mission to this lab to provide us with your body’s antibodies - if it were to succeed - would mean the downfall of the entire zombie race.”
Carroway paused to take a sip of water, then continued.
“The crowd of zombies you encountered who asked for help instead of attacking, that’s a little harder.” He thought for a moment. “I will postulate that they might have been infected by the zombie that had been Nelson. The plague is constantly mutating, changing, with every new person it encounters who is different from the previous subjects. Perhaps those the zombie king infected retained this new aspect of the plague: for a while at least. They retained part of their minds: they remembered.” He shook his head. “I can think of no worse hell. Being infected with the zombie plague, your body turning into a zombie, but remembering everything it meant to be human. The anguish. My god.”
Dad spoke
slowly. “I’m thinking the zombie king didn’t know this would happen. Those zombies wanted our help. They would have helped Luke get here to the lab, if it meant a possible cure for them, no matter how far-fetched.” Dad looked at the doctor, who looked back at him and then spoke.
“I think you are right, Mr. Hill. The zombie that used to be Nelson, the zombie king: it would have killed every last one of them, if it had known.” Carroway thought for a moment. “What happened to this zombie king? You say it followed you all the way to Boston?”
“It’s dead.”
“Um, yeah. Luke chopped it in two. And I sort of tore its head clean off.” DeAndre smiled at the memory.
Laughing, Dad said, “It’s about a mile from here, in at least three pieces, Doc.”
We all went over the final battle we’d fought at Holocaust Park. Doctor Carroway was amazed at how deadly the Sanctuary Team was. But after a half hour of this, dad spoke quietly.
“Doctor, we have to go. This afternoon.”
I sobered up as reality came crashing down on us all. Mom.
“I’m already packed,” said DeAndre.
“Mom needs the serum. She was infected over a week and a half ago,” I said, feeling pale.
“Our Sanctuary doctor induced a coma in her, to prolong the incubation period of the plague, and hopefully she’s still stable,” Risa said.
“We have to try,” Dad said.
“We’ll make faster time with the zombie king no longer after us,” Jonathan said grimly.
I thought of my mother back home in Winnipeg. The last time I’d seen her, she’d looked so pale, lying in bed. I swallowed back tears, and felt Dad take my hand and squeeze it from across the table. Looking up, I saw there were unshed tears in his eyes as well. That did it for me, and my tears fell down my face in dual waterfalls. I bowed my head.
“Luke? Jacob? DeAndre?” We looked up at the doctor. “I may have a solution.”
Hope sparked in my chest. If he was kidding … I heard Jonathan blow his nose hard in his napkin.
“What? Doctor Carroway: what?” Dad asked.
“Well, help in the form of an old friend.” Dr. Carroway smiled and took out his walki-talkie. He spoke into it. “Okay to come in now.”
“What is going on?” DeAndre asked.
The door behind me creaked open and a voice came through it. “You all helped me once before. You saved my life. I think it’s time I returned the favor.”
“I know that voice.” Dad said. He stood up and came around the table, reaching for the door as it opened further. “I don’t believe it.” The door opened the rest of the way and a middle-aged man in a grey suit entered the room. I didn’t recognize him, but he seemed to know me.
“Luke. When I last saw you, you were five years old,” he said.
Dad seemed stunned. “Stanley Turner. My god.” They shook hands, and smiles broke out on their faces. DeAndre came around the table and grasped Turner’s hand as well.
“I don’t believe it,” DeAndre said. “I just don’t believe it.”
Risa and Jonathan held back a ways. But they were smiling. I looked at Risa.
“You remember this guy, Sis?” I asked.
“I do. It’s been a really long time. And the last time I saw him, he worked for the government, and was after you, Luke.”
Stanley Turner turned to the rest of us. “I’m still with the government. I’ve moved from the CDC to the CIA, but we’re no longer looking to grab you, Luke.” He sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee as he spoke. “We’ve been following your work. Your Sanctuary Team is incredible. And we’ve been following Dr. Carroway’s work as well. Helping him along when we could.” He looked back at Dad. “Jacob, we’d like to offer you and your team a flight on a military jet, back to Winnipeg. You could be home, with the serum, in time to save your wife, in just a few hours.”
EPILOGUE
“This is awesome. Mr. Turner, I gotta thank you again,” I beamed over at the CIA man seated in the corner facing us. We were all anxious to get home to Mom, and we knew in our hearts that if we’d gone by land to save Mom, it would have been a longshot at best. Stanley Turner had saved the day.
“Luke, it’s the least we can do.” He smiled at us. He suddenly put his hand to his earpiece and listened, then turned back to us. “Looks like the pilot will be making his descent into Winnipeg in about five minutes.”
Sure enough, the seatbelt sign came on and a uniformed man came into the center cabin to check on us. Risa sat next to me, and I held her hand. Across from us sat Leia. Jonathan sat on Risa’s other side, their hands and arms intertwined. We were all exhausted and yet excited to be getting back home, and I knew Risa could use some down time to fully recover from her injuries. I looked out the window and saw we were approaching the city.
_ _ _
After we landed, we gathered all our belongings and prepared to disembark. We’d left a lot of our heavy equipment and extra clothes back with the SUV, and the government was going to be bringing it over next week.
Swinging her shotgun into her hip holster, Risa grimaced. “I will admit, I am really looking forward to our Sanctuary Medteam treatment.”
Jonathan laughed. “You’re looking forward to the immersion baths the most, I’m betting.” He kissed his wife on the cheek, and she chuckled.
“Hey, it’s a glorified hot tub, who wouldn’t love it?” She kissed him back.
“Okay,” a flight crewman came up to us. “Let’s disembark one by one. The airport has rolled up a flight of stairs, and everything looks good to go.” He opened the airplane’s door, inward and then to the side.
We filed out and down one by one, Dad in the front, DeAndre bringing up the rear as usual. The Winnipeg air felt clean and crisp in my nostrils, and I breathed in deeply. We walked from the stairs over the tarmac toward the small buildings a hundred yards away.
“GRRRRRRRRRRRLLLLLLL”
“MMMRRRRRROOOOAGGGGGGGG”
“RRRRRAAAAAAAOOAAARRRRRRR”
“What the hell?”
I looked toward the sound and saw a chain link fence off to our left. About 20 zombies were pouring through two holes in it where they’d ripped it apart or torn it down altogether .
“Well, crud.”
As a team, we unholstered our shotguns and leveled them at the zombies, which were approaching at a loping, sideways gait. The blasts took out about two-thirds of them, and we flew into action with our blades, chopping zombie heads off right and left. They never knew what hit them. It was over in less than ten minutes.
“We’d better get over to the terminal, see if everyone’s okay,” Dad said as he wiped his blades and we hurried over to the low, grey buildings.
Coming up to the doors, we saw a guard, ashen-faced, holding the doors open for us, looking us over in shocked amazement. He must’ve seen everything. He looked pale as a ghost. “Everyone okay?” he asked. We nodded to him.
“You’ll be wanting to fix that fence,” Dad said as he passed him.
The guard just nodded at Dad and locked the door behind us. He nervously looked out the window, scanning the tarmac for any more trouble.
“You won’t find anymore out there. We dispatched them all. We’re Team Sanctuary.” DeAndre grinned and chuckled.
_ _ _
Back home, we administered the serum to Mom, and within an hour she was awake and smiling. Looking down at her greying arms and legs in wonder, she said, “Luke, now I really look right.” She looked up at me and smiled. She was still so weak, but she was going to be okay.
“Alyssa,” Dad came forward and gathered his wife into his arms, kissing her thoroughly. “Babe, god how I missed you …”
We all retreated to give them some well-deserved alone time.
Later on, I took Zach in to meet Mom. Knocking at the door, I poked my head in.
“Mom?”
“Come on in, Sweetheart.”
I entered, holding Zach’s hand, pulling him along behind me. He
was so shy, partly because he’d heard so much about Mom, partly because we’d become so close in such a short time, and he worried.
Mom sat up in bed, pillows propped behind her. Dad sat in the chair next to the bed, a tablet in hand, going over things with her. He smiled and got up, walking toward the bay window overlooking the backyard grounds, with his back to us, to give us a little privacy.
Letting go of Zach’s hand, I went over to the bed and kneeled, as I had so a little more than a week and a half ago. This time, however, a happy feeling flooded through me, and I looked into Mom’s face, studying the changes for a minute, then smiling. Rising again, grinning broadly, I went and took Zach’s hand once more, and again approached the bedside. Mom looked at us both, and at our hands together, and smiled warmly at us.
“Mom, there’s someone I want you to meet…”
If you have enjoyed this story, the author would be ever so grateful if you would go review it on Amazon & Goodreads. It would bring meaning and happiness to an otherwise lonely life as a writer of odd tales.
Autographed paperback copies of this book are available. Please inquire on the author’s Facebook page, or on her blog.
Facebook: www.facebook.com/samairep
Blog: samaireprovost.tumblr.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Samaire Provost lives in California with her son, one dog, two cats, and her husband, who is also a writer. She works in a dark room, hunkered over an old-fashioned clicky keyboard, drinking too much diet soda and harboring an almost continuous fondness for cookies.
Table of Contents
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Mad World (Book 3): Desperation Page 17