Permanent Ink: Deadwalkers (Zombie Outbreak)

by RWK Clark

  Bransky’s smile faded and he studied Randy Carstens with a serious eye. Finally, he took his radio off his hip and spoke into it: “Dispatch, we’re going to need Captain Hertz to come to the Aspen Stationers’ right away. We have a dangerous situation on our hands.”

  ∞

  Roger McGinley’s eyes fluttered open.

  He had no idea where he was, or even who he was, for that matter. He could see light coming from above him, and a squealing sound was all around, making his head pound so painfully he thought he would die. It was horrific.

  But he didn’t need to worry about dying, because Roger McGinley was already dead.

  Suddenly he felt a sharp pressure at his calf, then another at his hand. There was no pain, just pressure, and the pressure was very annoying, to say the least. What the heck is that, anyway?

  He struggled to sit up, but it seemed that he didn’t have the proper motor skills to get the job done easily. McGinley grunted and groaned, spit flying from his mouth. As he tried to control and maneuver his body he resembled a fish out of water, flipping and flopping on the floor of the laboratory.

  A sharp squealing sound came from his left, and he jerked his head around to see what it was. McGinley was immediately distracted by the noise, and his task of getting up was completely forgotten. He went still as he tried to look toward the sound, listening for it to occur again. Everything was a bit foggy, as though there was some kind of film over his eyes, and this fact forced him to quiet himself.

  Suddenly, something darted toward him, scrambling in his direction. It latched itself onto his arm, and he felt that irritating pressure once again. McGinley reached with his free hand and grabbed onto the object, and it immediately gave a piercing squeal. He tried to hold it up to his face to see it better, but it seemed to be attached to him somehow. He gave it a hard yank, and it came free, pulling a long scrap of flesh from his arm as it did so.

  The CEO of Aspen Stationers’ held the squirming thing before his face and tried to look around the milky fog in his eyes. It screamed and squirmed violently, putting up a heck of a fight. Right away McGinley could smell it; it smelled of metal and rot, but to him it smelled like dinner, and Roger was overcome with ravenousness right away.

  He put the creature directly into his mouth, disregarding all of its movement and struggle. With one demanding bite he sunk his teeth into it, and hot blood flowed over his tongue, causing him to close his eyes with great satisfaction and pleasure. He chewed and chewed as the rat’s bones crunched in his mouth like a handful of roasted peanuts.

  Its body went limp in his hand, but he held onto it like a gory candy bar. He had taken off its head clean, the thing would come to life no more. But the only thing Roger McGinley was aware of was the incredible flavor of the thing, and he could care less about what it was or what he was doing to it.

  For the next twenty minutes he sat on the floor of the lab with a flesh and blood-filled hand and ate the monstrosity of a rat which had become his snack. When it was finally gone McGinley attempted to look around the room once again, and in no time he resumed his struggle to rise from the floor and try to figure out who, and what, he was.

  ∞

  Captain Hertz arrived at Aspen right around the time Roger McGinley finished eating his little meal. Randy Carstens attempted to fill him in on what was happening in the building, but it proved to be harder than he thought. Every man there thought the scientist had plumb lost his mind, and they devoted more energy to rolling their eyes at each other than they did in trying to believe him.

  Finally, with his frustration at its peak, Randy pulled his thumb drive from the front hip pocket of his trousers and began to wave it around.

  “It’s all right here, I’m telling you!” His voice was becoming extremely desperate. “I was in charge of this project, of the testing, of the ink! I’m telling you that it is doing something… something that I can’t explain, and Roger McGinley is in there!”

  Hertz glanced over all the men standing in amused attention. Yes, he thought he was listening to the rantings of a madman, but something in his stomach was telling him that, even if it was all baloney, this guy believed everything he was saying, and maybe Hertz should be giving his words a bit more credence.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “I’m gonna take Gibbons in, and we’re going to see what the heck is going on in there.” He turned back to Randy. “Now I’m gonna tell you, if you’re sending me in this place on some kind of prank or wild goose chase, I’m going to see to it that you sit in my jail for the longest amount of time possible under the law, got that?”

  Randy immediately let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “Fine. If that’s what you want. But you’re going to find out in a minute that I’m serious.” His eyes went wide then. “You will need something… some kind of protection.”

  Hertz’s face went stern, and his voice turned to steel. “I’m not gonna go all out for this, do you understand? If there is some kind of problem when I get in there I’ll make my decisions accordingly from there, but for now, we will simply go in, guns drawn.”

  He turned back to Gibbons. “Ready?”

  The man nodded, and together, with Teddy the guard, they proceeded through the gate. Randy and the rest of the officers watched as they neared the building, and then finally went around to the back lab entrance. Randy turned to the men and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “If I were you, I’d be preparing for a heck of a Sunday, guys.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Both Hertz and Gibbons had chatted nervously on their way to the building. Even if Carstens was out of his mind, he was likely telling the truth about the rats attacking, and neither of them wanted to get bit. In all truth, they only had their guns drawn to blow away the disgusting rodents, and that was all.

  With Randy Carstens’ key, the door to the Aspen Stationers’ lab entrance came open easily.

  Captain Hertz and Officer Gibbons entered the narrow, institutional-like hallway, guns drawn. There were doors on both sides, set into the large white cinder block walls. Some of them had long windows alongside them. According to Randy, the last place he saw Roger McGinley had been in the lab, getting eaten by rats, and that would be the second door on their left after they entered. It would have the longest windows, all shaded.

  They were about ten feet from the lab door. “It’s open,” Hertz said in a low voice. He stopped in his tracks and went still, trying to hear what he could. The sound of scuttling and shuffling came to both of their ears.

  Hertz looked at Gibbons. The man looked confused, as if he were trying to identify the sounds and couldn’t place them. After a moment of nervousness, Hertz had enough.

  “This is Captain Eli Hertz,” he shouted. “I’m with the Monte Vista police. Is anyone in there?”

  There was no response, only more shuffling.

  The two men inched toward the door, and Hertz continued. “Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”

  Silence still. Right then Gibbons got a whiff of some kind of stench, and it made him gag slightly. Hertz turned to him and gave him an angry look before gesturing with his head for the man to advance.

  Gibbons closed his eyes and took a breath, then went on. “POLICE!” he shouted loudly. “We are coming into the lab; if you have any weapons, please put them, and your hands, where we can see them!”

  He took one long stride then turned into the room, his gun out in front of him crazily. In the lab were cage after cage of unidentifiable animals. Gibbons eyes grew as wide as saucers as he watched the blood-covered balls of fur race to and fro in their cages. On the floor was smeared blood, and a lot of it; in the middle of that was what appeared to be a patch of bloody fur.

  Right then one of the creatures raced across the floor about five feet in front of him. He opened fire, hitting it right away. It flew against one of the cabinets, left a splatter of blood, and then it hit the ground. Bits and pieces of it surrounded its insane-looking body.

  But th
ere was no man in there at all.

  Hertz was right by his side. “What in the heck is that?” He was referring to the animal Gibbons had shot.

  “A rat?” Gibbons said with disbelief.

  “It don’t look like a rat to me,” his captain replied. “And where the heck is this McGinley guy anyway? That must be his blood.”

  Gibbons began to step forward toward the cages. “Or the blood of something. Look at this, Captain! That guy wasn’t kidding about these things!”

  Hertz joined the officer and together they began to walk from cage to cage. The rats inside were unrecognizable; all of them were missing at least one limb. Others were peering out of a single eye, or even feeling their way around blindly. One of the cages held three rats, and two of them had begun to tear away at another. Crunching sounds accompanied by screeching began to come from the cage, and Gibbons turned away and promptly threw up on the floor.

  The captain ignored the man. He was in such shock at what he was seeing that he could do nothing but stare at the cages. When Gibbons was through he stood, hunched over with his hands on his knees, his pistol still in one hand, but only barely. Out of the corner of his eye something moved, and he jerked, pulling his gun back up and to attention.

  The rat, the one he had shot, began moving.

  It was squirming in its own blood. There was a hole directly through the center of its body, ragged and charred, from the bullet. But it was moving, and it was trying to pull itself toward him on its two front legs, or what remained of them.

  “Oh, no way,” Gibbons stuttered, his free hand going up to cover his mouth as if to stop the next rush of vomit, along with the fear. “Captain Hertz…”

  Hertz spun around and looked at Gibbons, then his eyes followed the officer. He took one look at the rat, which had made a bit of progress, and his mind almost snapped. Hertz’s hands began to tremble violently.

  “What in the heck?”

  Now the thing started to move a bit faster, picking up its pace in an effort to reach Gibbons, almost as if it could smell his debate to run screaming or not. Hertz wasn’t as frozen in place. Even with his hands shaking he double tapped his trigger. The first bullet missed the thing. The second hit it in the rear and sent it flying once again. It flew and landed in the corner, blood flying from its mangled body as it rocketed through the air.

  When it landed, Hertz’s first thought was that what was once the rat’s head was now gone.

  Right then he turned to Gibbons to see if the man was okay; he felt frustrated that all the officer had done was puke almost since the moment they arrived. He needed the guy to get himself together, and the sooner the better. They needed to find the supposed victim, Roger McGinley.

  “Listen, now’s the time to – …”

  Hertz caught movement out of the corner of his eye. It was movement, slow and jerky, and it was right behind Gibbons, who had his back to the door, still doubled over and green at the gills. The captain spun all the way around, his focus on what he had first thought was a shadow. He realized with horror that he was sadly mistaken.

  It was a man, or at least Hertz thought it was a man. His mind raced to find the right words to holler at the cop he had brought in as a partner, but what his eyes saw his mind could not wrap around. If it was a man, it was a mere shell of one.

  There were holes in his face. His cheeks were nearly gone, and any skin that did remain was ragged and torn. One eye hung lazily from its socket, almost staring at the floor as if to assist him in watching where he was walking. His neck was nearly non-existent, and Hertz could see his spine clearly through the gaping hole. He was missing fingers from both hands, and his clothes had been gnawed clear through in random spots. Blood seeped through everywhere, and covered the flesh that did remain.

  Captain Hertz took all of it in in only seconds, but the sight froze him in his place. This monster making its way into the room, nearly lunging to the sickly Gibbons, had to be Roger McGinley. It was horrifying and grotesque, a staggering pile of death which was sucking the blood from what remained of its own lips as its arms reached out for the cop in the middle of the room.

  “Gibbons, look out!”

  Hertz raised his gun once again and managed to fire a few shots, but then it was out of bullets. Gibbons jerked upward and around, a stringer of his regurgitated lunch hanging from his bottom lip, swinging upward and sticking to his own cheek. But even as Hertz fought to reload his weapon with trembling hands he knew that Gibbons would not be able to get away.

  He yelled piercingly just as the McGinley monster grabbed hold of Gibbons by his left arm. He tried to jerk away, but so solid was the grip he had on the cop that it stopped him dead in his tracks. A look of severe pain came over his face, causing him to close his eyes and his mouth to fly open wide. His scream turned into a whining gurgle, and he dropped to his knees.

  McGinley dropped down next to him without missing a beat. He tore his teeth into Gibbons forearm, and the man found his voice once again. The scream was deafening, and Hertz managed to drop the bullets which he was trying to put into his gun.

  At last the captain realized the true desperation of the situation. He grabbed his radio from his belt and began to yell into it: “Backup! I need backup in here NOW!!!”

  Next he dropped his radio to the ground and proceeded to try to load the gun once again, but he knew his attempt was going to be futile. He continued to glance up from his loading to see that McGinley, if indeed it was him, was now shaking his head violently back and forth, trying to rip Gibbon’s skin from his arm. Droplets of blood were flying from the wound he was creating, but now the cop wasn’t making a sound. Whether from terror or nausea, he was passed out cold, a limp ragdoll in the hands of a bloodthirsty murderer.

  As Hertz finally got the last bullet into the chamber he could hear the voices of some of his men coming, and relief washed over him as he aimed his gun. He shot the monster once in the chest and another time in the leg, but neither shot seemed to faze him in the slightest. He did nothing but jerk slightly, grunt with frustration, and continue to dine on Gibbons. Now he actually had the man’s shirt up and was tearing into his stomach.

  “Get off of him!” Hertz was starting to panic. He peeled off another two rounds, one hitting the creature in the arm and the other in his neck, but he just kept going.

  Four officers came around the corner, along with Teddy the guard and Randy Carstens. Bransky was leading the pack, and all of the officers had their guns drawn. At first they froze, stunned by what they were witnessing with McGinley and Gibbons. Bransky then seemed to snap out of it and take notice of Captain Hertz, who fired two more shots and was again trying to reload.

  “Shoot it!” He screamed with both anger and fear.

  Suddenly all of the firearms in the room seemed to go off at once. Teddy the guard took off like a shot, being both sick to his stomach and filled with fear. Randy backed against the windowed wall, but he stayed, watching as McGinley’s body was riddled with bullets, jerking like a puppet on so many strings. Randy Carstens took sharp notice of one thing, however: McGinley didn’t ‘die’ until a bullet struck him in the head.

  The monster fell face first to the floor, completely and realistically dead. All the men halted their fire and just stared, breathing heavily with wide eyes and gaping mouths. It was a scene to behold, Randy thought as he scanned each and every man in the room.

  Suddenly Gibbons’ bloody body began to squirm.

  “See if he’s alright!” Hertz yelled to no one in particular.

  “No!”

  This came from Randy, who had suddenly stepped forward with his hands in the air.

  “I’m telling you, he is like McGinley now,” he said harshly. “Like the rats! He is not Officer Gibbons anymore.”

  They all glanced at him in disbelief, but tried to keep their eyes on their comrade. He began to grunt and smack his lips. Then he began to struggle to get to his feet, his torn up arm reaching out in a swinging motion as he tried
to get his hand on anyone he could reach.

  “No,” Hertz said hesitantly. “It’s Gibbons, I tell you.”

  The man reached down to help his friend up, but as soon as Gibbons got hold of his hand he tried to pull it into his mouth. Captain Hertz jerked away with all his might and reactively shot him in the chest, sending him flying backward about four feet. He almost immediately began to make his way to another man, Officer Bransky.

  “The head!” Randy yelled. “Shoot him in the head; it’s the only way!”

  Multiple gunshots rang out, and the corpse that used to be Officer Gibbons fell to the ground next to McGinley, dead at last.

  CHAPTER 14

  Diana Moss raced from the staff lounge to the elevator in near panic. She attempted to contact Aspen Stationers’ Supply Company, only to find that there was no answer. After a bit of research she learned that the company had been closed down and was under quarantine due to some kind of ‘outbreak’. All she wanted to do was find Dr. Hilliard, tell him what she knew, and determine the next best step for all of them to take.

  The elevator was jam packed when she arrived, so she darted for the stairs. The fifth floor was going to be quite a workout, but the thought never even entered her mind. All she wanted to do was get to ICU, and stat.

  As soon as she opened the door to the fire stairs, panting and sweating, she was greeted by nothing but noise and chaos.

  Nurses and doctors were running here and there. There was a nurse on the floor in one corner surrounded by her co-workers. Her arm appeared to be bleeding profusely, and she looked pale and ill. At the nurses’ station one woman was on the phone begging for what sounded like police assistance, but it was obvious she was getting nowhere.

  From the looks of it, the city of Thornton was in the beginning stages of disaster.

  Dr. Moss reached out and grabbed a male nurse who was running by her. “Where is Dr. Hilliard? What the heck is going on here?”