“We heal, the virus I mean, it heals us and regenerates nerves. Unless we are the virus, then we do it, I don’t know.”
“I believe you!” I say as I reach up to touch the hole in my head. “There was a bullet in my brain, too, and I pulled it out! But how did he?” I say pointing to Bob.
“Het after I came back, I walked down the stairs to the street and Bob was wandering around. His eyes were no longer pushed into his head and the wound where you tore his heart out wasn’t gaping any longer. His heart probably didn’t grow back or anything, but the wounds healed.” I notice his eyes look fine now. It would make sense that he had no heart. Wrath, his body, doesn’t need the heart, so why regenerate a new one.
“I see again.” Bob groans from the cockpit. “No heartbeat”.
“I saw many others that had been vaccinated that had come back.” Chris says. “Some in good shape, ready to fight. From what I can figure, the ones that were vaccinated are like us, the ones who got The Vaccine from food by eating the Healthies we filled with The Vaccine, they had it wear off.”
Of course, that’s why so many reverted back. The Vaccine, the one Chris and I gave ourselves in the lab has made us sort of, immortal, it seems, but only by vaccination. Taken orally it didn’t work for long. Immortal, right... I mean if we get blown up or something we would surely die, I think, but a simple head shot won’t do it. But Bob? I can’t explain it. Maybe his experiments went farther than mine when we worked together? Perhaps he was injected by someone other than me that night Allen, Brown, Smith, and I went out. That would explain it.
“But how did you get a plane?” I say.
“We took it.” She smiles. “Bob was in the Air Force when he was alive and remembered how to fly. The other two planes are loaded with Deads like us, ready to fight. There are at least 50 of us. We even had 4 more pilots in the ranks, Het! We are headed for the North, to hit the Northern Alliance hard. They are weak right now, as far as we can tell, and this is the time to strike. It’s warm up there now, it’s warm everywhere now. You need to go much farther north to keep a freeze all year. The climate is really changing, almost to accommodate us. We have a window where Deads could be “waking up” from the cold and we can inject them with The Vaccine and make quite an army. We are also going to need information, and I have plenty of vaccine.” She said, holding up a briefcase. “And this isn’t the only briefcase.”
The two people who could help us most were on the floor in body bags. “I get it Chris, we can inject General Spicer and Maslow and get info!” I shout.
“Yes, exactly” She says, “But I don’t know if it will work.
They are in bad shape, especially Maslow. And if it does work we have to control Maslow; we could tie him up first. Then, make him think The Vaccine needs to be retaken for immortality so he will do what we want... But it is possible he will want to cooperate in bringing down the Northern Alliance. They abandoned him and he knows it... I’m fairly sure he will be a willing participant and the General will be here to help, too.”
We get to work. First we unzip the General’s bag. He is ice cold. The head shot isn’t too bad, bullet went in and out fairly cleanly. We decided to tie him up for his own safety. Don’t know how this will work, if it even does, but we don’t want him to hurt anyone, especially us. We then unzip Maslow’s bag. He, too, is cold, but his shot is much messier. I got him from close range several times.
“I’m gonna have to put his head back together, like your eye. Hopefully The Vaccine will heal it up. It won’t be pretty.” I tell Chris. “Is there any duct tape on the plane.”
I was serious.
She finds some and helps me set his skull and tape it back together. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle with pieces missing. We tie him up as well. Chris injects them both with The Vaccine. Now all we can do is wait.
Chris and I sit up against the plane wall together. It is a cargo plane, no seats. She unzips her flight suit. Still beautiful, but The Vaccine hasn’t healed all of her wounds. Not the ones she had received before The Vaccine. But they do seal up. This concerns me, and she can tell.
“I think we got The Vaccine into them in time. I know it doesn’t heal wounds from before the actual time of vaccine, but logically if given this quickly afterward it could. I have never tried to reanimate a Dead with a headshot, but remember your neck after you took The Vaccine?” She asks.
The neck wound where Gena had cut me did heal after I injected myself with The Vaccine.
“The General had adrenalin bonded to his DNA and Maslow did, too, so that may help.” I say.
“Now on another note...” she says as she squirms completely out of her suit. “Do you still like what you see?” Completely naked, she kisses me. She is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen and I tell her. Every sore, open wound, and bone deep cut is perfect. After we get re-acquainted a bit we fall asleep to the sound of the engines. Chris is back and it feels wonderful.
I wake up to Bob’s voice. “We have to stop for fuel on the way.” He shouts from the cockpit.
“No getting around it.” Chris said. “Bob, we can go up the coast flying low over airports. If they aren’t on fire they probably have fuel. Let’s start in Raleigh, N.C. and go from there.”
“Good.” He says.
Chris puts her clothes on, and I try on my new flight suit. It is tight but it does hold everything together and will be good in a fight. I take one last look as Chris squeezes her chest into her suit. She sees me watching and smiles.
We move over to the two bodies. No movement. I remember that the virus does generate heat so I feel the General. He is no longer cold to the touch. I feel Maslow and he still feels cold.
“Let’s hit them again, right near the head wounds.” I suggest.
Chris nods and shoots them both up again. Just then I notice General Spicer’s eyes moving under his eyelids, like REMs when you dream. They are moving very rapidly now. I open his mouth and put a piece of wood between his teeth for him to bite down on. Not fast enough getting back, however. He bites off the pinky on my left hand. It hurts a little but not enough to concern me.
“I hope it doesn’t get infected.” I joke.
Chris smiles as we hold him still. All at once his eyes open and he screams out for a good solid minute. His pores leak black pus and he bites through the wood in his mouth.
He calms down and looks at me and groans “Am I alive? What the fuck, over?”
I think he is referring more to the ropes he is tied with than his reincarnation.
We make sure he is not dangerous and untie him. We explain it all and he is fascinated by the hole in his head as we were with ours, touching it as he looks around the cargo bay. His facial features are over exaggerated and twitchy. He moves constantly, rhythmically, a lot like Donny Minutes did back on Manhattan. Maybe the extra dose it took to kick start him did some damage? Hard to tell but he seems cognizant and aware.
He notices Maslow. “Oh what the Hell is this? You brought me back now you’re bringing this piece of shit back? No way!”
He lunges but we hold him fast. It takes little effort, he is very clumsy and slow.
“We need him for information, to bring down the Alliance!” I scream.
“Now why would I want to do that?” Spicer asks and then screams. “Those are my people, they are my men!”
“Not any more!” I counter. “Do you think they will do anything but shoot you if they see you like this? A Dead!”
Just then a voice comes over the speaker.
“This is Captain Fenn of the Northern Alliance. Identify yourself immediately. You are flying over the N.A.S. Harbinger.”
“One of our ships!” Spicer says. “Gimme that microphone.” He demands as he drags himself over and takes it off the hook of the cargo bay radio. “This is General John Spicer, Northern Alliance Armed Forces. Security Code Alpha Watchdog 778. We are headed North on a return mission.”
A voice comes back “General they told us you were dead, or a Dead. Th
at you had come back like your family. We had to destroy them, Dalia and the kids. They were infected. Glad you are alive and well sir.”
Spicer looks dumfounded.
Knowing that his family was more than likely sentient like he was, if not as aware. Their lives were taken without warning. Like animals.
“Thank you, Spicer out.” He says, then looks away. “Don’t even look at me, I need to think.”
With that he shuffles slowly off to sit in a corner. His motor skills are not coming back too well. Not willing to take a chance, Bob hands the controls to his copilot and sits far enough away to let Spicer think, but near enough to make sure that’s all he does.
Chris and I move to Maslow. He is starting to feel warm, especially his head under the tape. I feel it and it seems solid. I remove the tape from his mouth and jaws and see the muscles in his face twitch. He is reanimating.
“I’ll be right back”, Chris says as she heads into the cockpit.
Just then Maslow begins to speak.
“Where am I? Who is this?” He asks.
“It’s me, Madden.”
“Madden, what have you done?! Why can’t I see?” He faintly moans.
I don’t think he remembers.
“It’s a, uh, bandage over your head, we rescued you from the Northern Alliance. They attacked you and tried to kill you.” I say.
I continue to take off the tape and when I am done it reveals a very incomplete reanimation. The pieces of the head have fused together, but everything above the middle of the nose and ears is a mass of semi-healed flesh. Nothing is distinguishable, no features just scar-like tissue. He can obviously hear and speak, but he is blind and looks to remain so.
The head pulsates as he moans. “They blinded me. The pain is unbearable.”
“They attacked us, as well. And we are headed to Newfoundland to get revenge.” I explain.
Maslow speaks as his head tilts back. “Newfoundland was only a small concentration of the Alliance. Their main location is Nuuk, Greenland. Always cold, so cold. Too many Deads in Newfoundland, after the Corner Brook Revolt against the Alliance. It got warm and they rose. The Alliance retreated to Nuuk; and the ones who couldn’t hid in the Mountains. There is a flourishing Dead population there. And ships, I would imagine. We can land there and get an army together. We can kill them all for what they did to me!”
Still thinks its all about him.
Chris comes back in and asks who I am talking to. I look at Maslow and he is motionless, but alive. We leave him tied up and he eventually falls unconscious, or asleep, however you want to look at it.
We look over at Spicer and Bob is eating one of his legs.
“He doesn’t need to walk. Too dangerous.” He says.
Spicer doesn’t seem to miss it and it’s too late to do anything now.
Chris screams “Your finger! Look!” I look down at the pinky finger Spicer bit off and notice it is still gone but the tip of what looks like a stump is rounded and healed. It looks like it is growing back.
“Lets see what happens with Spicer’s leg.” I say almost matter-of factly. I am also interested to see what happens with the finger. It feels very warm to the touch.
We continue on and we are over land now, heading to the Raleigh airport. We flew over the Fayetteville Army Base and it is ablaze. Charlotte is a bigger city, but big cities don’t last long. Raleigh-Durham airport is about the right size to have survived.
Also, Maslow keeps repeating “RDU, fuel there” to me, the IATA airport code for Raleigh-Durham International. He has been saying a lot of things, strange things, but only to me. And with his head tilting back, it’s like he is in a trance. I didn’t pay much attention until he started saying things to me only I would know. My grandmother died when I was 10. Maslow said “Grandma watches her boy of 10 from the grave, never blinks.” Ok, so it’s an even chance my grandmother was dead, all of our mothers were probably dead by now.
Then he grabbed me and said “Madden, your vaccinating bite killed Michael but also helped give him eternal life and more.”
I stared at him, not believing what he was saying.
“He is alive, Madden!” I thought for a moment. Of course! I could probably pass The Vaccine off with a bite! I didn’t do enough to kill Michael, so he must have regenerated like me, like Chris.
I grabbed Maslow, pleading with him. “Where is he, where is Michael?”
“The Cabox” he said.
“Chris, Bob, what is The Cabox?!” I shout.
“The what?” Chris says.
“The Cabox, where or what is it? Michael is there!” I shout.
“Who is Michael?” She asks me. I never told her.
“The Cabox are the mountains on Newfoundland Island.” A gruff voice mumbles. It was Spicer. “Where you bastards killed my men! And ate them alive!” Bob had removed his other leg by now and neither was growing back.
Michael is in Newfoundland. I want to believe.
“Are you sure?!” I demanded from Maslow.
Nothing. He was out. I took Chris aside and told her everything about Michael. She agreed that the bite could indeed pass The Vaccine, but doubted Maslow’s ranting. Why did no one else hear him speak? I had to believe. I wanted to believe. He may be setting me up, but I hold the hope that my son is alive in my heart, and it adds to the fire that keeps me going.
We fly over RDU and there are no fires. We land and there are Deads. They initially come toward us but when they realize we are dead, too, they don’t bother us--so we don’t bother them. There is plenty of fuel, just like Maslow said. All three planes refuel and we head to Newfoundland. It is hard for me not to view Maslow as a clairvoyant. I know he has fooled me before, but when you want to believe, the person telling you what you want to hear has great power. Chris sees this and has told me she will watch out for me. If I get out of hand following Maslow too much she will keep me in check. Spicer has been completely de-limbed by Bob and just sits in the corner threatening to kill us all and help the Alliance defeat us. Maslow is tied up. We all get some much needed sleep.
I awake to Maslow. “Finger.” he repeats over and over. I get it. I look down and my pinky has grown nearly all the way back. It is translucent and clear in color and is entirely vestigial. But it is back. Still no legs or arms on Spicer though. Looks like Bob has started in on his organs. Chris and I are hungry so we eat a bit too.
He can no longer talk, his diaphragm contracts uselessly within his abdomen. He silently “screams” at us but is a mass of facial ticks and shaking. We believe this is more The Vaccine not “taking” on him than Bob’s butcher work.
I decide to ask Maslow some more questions. Personal stuff only I would know. “Maslow, what was my first dog’s name?” I ask. “Jenna.” he says. Jenna was my first girlfriend.
Funny.
Maslow was talking in riddles. Probably on purpose, the bastard. So that’s kind of right, but not spot on. I tell Chris so she tries.
“What is my Mother’s middle name?” Maslow said nothing for a few minutes. Why won’t he talk to anyone but me?
Then he says “I had nothing to say to them, Mr. Madden. As to your question, my lady, I cannot answer.”
I look perplexingly at Chris, while glad she finally hears him speak.
“My Mother didn’t have a middle name.” She whispers to me. Again, not the real answer but not wrong.
Bob speaks up. "Why do I feel nothing?”
Maslow comes right back “Your heart is but a memory, it can no longer sing.” Ok he somehow knew Bob’s heart was gone, but the riddles were getting old I thought. But at least he is talking so everyone can hear. He closes his eyes and falls unconscious again. Chris gets up and heads to the cockpit; I stay seated next to Maslow.
As soon as she is in the seat he whispers. “Hate a man for prose, Mr. Madden? It is a long trip and I thought a little flair would keep us busy.”
I knew he was doing this Nostradamus thing on purpose.
“So
how do you know all this?” I ask.
“I don’t know. This gift is perhaps a result of the vaccination you gave me, or the blindness forcing me to use other senses. I truly don’t know. The year is strange, 2012, and I studied alchemy a great deal. I feel enlightened by my limitations! But know this. I do remember you shooting me, Mr. Madden. I did shoot first, so I suppose I deserved it. What I said about your son I do believe, even though I enjoyed the pain you felt about killing him. I can see these things, and I want the Alliance to crumble. They turned on me before you arrived in Bermuda. Sent spies to kill me! I know that you are a necessary evil in my life, and I in yours. I will not lie to you. I have nothing to gain from it. You wanted to kill me and you did. I suppose if you want to do it again you will, but I think not. Especially if I can lead you to your son. And I can, Mr. Madden, I certainly can... and I will. I must. It is destiny. I feel different, larger.”
Het Madden, a Zombie Perspective: Book One: WRATH 2012 Page 16