Year of the Zombie [Anthology]

by David Moody

  ‘They say alcohol isn’t the answer,’ Zurgens said as he watched everything play out from the sidelines. ‘But then again neither is milk. Of course, that depends on the question, right, brother?’

  Karl was sitting next to him, drinking a beer out of a large water carafe. ‘Ya,’ he agreed.

  ‘Sometimes I wish you’d just shut up Karl, that incessant yapping gets old.’

  Karl laughed and swigged down nearly a third of his drink.

  ‘Thank you,’ Jan said as she came up alongside Zurgens.

  ‘That’s what you pay me for.’ He was watching the Americans disinterestedly.

  ‘We have a problem.’

  ‘Other than what you’ve already told me?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Don’t tell me. Something we’re not going to be able to take care of with more free booze.’

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ Jan said flatly.

  Zurgens turned to look at her. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘We had ten prisoners for this hunt...’

  ‘Had?’ he interrupted. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? You said the injection didn’t hold. Just juice them up again.’

  ‘For nine it didn’t hold.’

  ‘Shit... so... you had one zombie among nine sleeping people. How many did he eat?’

  Jan said nothing.

  ‘All of them? Jesus Christ. Couldn’t you get Franz’s crew in there to kill the zed?’

  ‘It happened so fast. We were watching by drone; Franz was over at the southeast sector of the reserve, more than a half hour away. The zombie had ripped into five prisoners in less than ten minutes, all of them in fifteen. By the time Franz got there, every single one was dead.’

  ‘One zombie is not going to work for this crew, Jan. That big American over there? He’s a Grade-A dickhead. I tell him there’s one zombie for the whole group, he’s going to ‘lose his shit,’ as they say. Just call the prison and get some subjects sent over here.’

  ‘They’re not expecting to send anymore for another two weeks.’

  ‘Pay them double, Jan, it’ll be worth it. Maybe even throw them a little extra as well, for their troubles.’ He sneered in the direction of Jenkins who was draped all over Tendra, a curvaceous staff member nearly double the man’s age. Zurgens couldn’t tell if she was trying to get away or trying to get closer, but he thought about offering her hazard pay to be that chummy with the American.

  ‘I wish it were that easy. There are protests being lodged around the world against what we do here. They won’t win, but only because we still have the money on our side. It’s imperative we keep our operation as low key as possible for the sake of our investors, and that’s not going to happen if we take too many prisoners at one time. The Human Rights Defense charter has a group literally camped right outside the prison monitoring all traffic in and out. They’re building a real case against us as we speak. Our man inside has promised to get rid of them as soon as he can, but that’s not going to happen between tonight and tomorrow.’

  ‘They’re criminals! Why do people give such a damn about them? I bet they’d feel a bit differently if the scum had come into their homes and stolen one of their children. Well... how long, then?’

  ‘How long until we get more zombie fodder? I don’t think it can be much quicker than a week.’

  ‘Jenkins will never wait that long.’ Zurgens ran a hand through his shaggy, dirty blonde hair. ‘And the way he drinks, you’ll be broke long before that.’ Zurgens was looking around at the entire group; his gaze settled on Jenkins licking Zendra’s neck when an idea struck. ‘How many wait staff do we have employed?’

  ‘Why? What does that matter?’

  Zurgens looked at her with his piercing stare.

  ‘Oh God no. You can’t be thinking what I think you are.’

  He thumbed towards the table of drunks. ‘How much money do those five clients over there represent?’

  ‘Nearly four million euros.’

  Z-Hunt had increased their fees as soon as they realized they could. As demand had increased so had their costs, and so would their profits. It was simple economics.

  ‘I think there is significantly more at stake, Jan. We’re not just talking about refunding their money. If they go home and spread the word that we couldn’t deliver what we promised, our reputation will take a dump. We’ll begin to lose financial influence, and when that happens we can say goodbye to the people that insulate our little endeavor: politicians, officials, the police, the military. Everything about us will become public knowledge and they’ll have no choice. Instead of looking out for us, they’ll start looking for us. All of us here will have to go on the run. There aren’t too many places in the world that would accept us with open arms, not with that kind of heat on us. We could very well end up in the prison from which we are currently collecting zombies. How well do you think that’ll turn out, Jan?’

  ‘Aren’t you being overly dramatic?’

  ‘You pay me to keep an eye on your affairs. Everything you have built here is an illusion. The doctor’s ‘zombies’: illusion. The scenarios we put the hunters in: illusion. The peace we’ve made with those in power: illusion, and all predicated on money. The money stops, everyone peeks behind the smoke and mirrors and there we are with our peckers in our hands. Figuratively speaking.’

  Jan was silent as she looked over the guests and the staff. ‘There are twenty-two on staff. Which ten do you propose to take?’

  ‘Ten? I’d have to take all of them. There can be no one left behind to question this.’

  ‘What about family? Won’t these people be missed?’

  ‘I hired this entire staff. They are all wartime refugees from other countries, their families wiped out. They live here in the compound. I specifically chose them because they would have no one to talk to about what they think might go on here.’

  Jan shook her head. ‘This can’t be happening. I need to talk to Dietrich.’

  ‘I agree. But you’d better make it quick. If this is not something you feel capable of, I need to start making preparations for my brisk departure.’

  Karl waited silently until Jan walked away. From his seat, he bumped his carafe holding hand against Zurgens’ leg and looked up to the other man with a questioning stare.

  ‘You’re my brother, Karl, I think you’re safe. Anyway, who would drive the assholes around?’

  ‘Ya.’ He finished off his drink and stood to go get another one.

  ‘Oh yeah, and just because the guests are drinking for free, doesn’t mean you are.’

  Karl turned from the bar and headed for his hut and bunk.

  ‘Thought you’d see it that way. Keep your radio on; I might need you a little later.’

  ‘Ya.’ Karl threw his hand over his head in a waving gesture.

  ◆◆◆

  ‘Dietrich, I don’t know how I feel about this. I know all of them; they’re good people.’ She had called her husband and recapped Zurgens’ plan to him.

  ‘He’s right, Jan. The judge is in our pocket but he’s still hearing out the zombie rights activist arguments. Even if everything goes perfectly on your end, I don’t know how much longer we’re going to be able to continue what we’re doing. A couple of years at the most. If it goes south now and we lose that money, we won’t be able to pay off the officials what we’ve promised, and you could easily shave a year off that timeline. We need to make our money while we can, buy that island we’ve been talking about, and retire. It’s our only way out. I wish I was there honey; I know you’re in a tough spot. Let Zurgens earn some of that huge salary we’re paying him.’

  ‘This is a little different from turning rapists and murderers into zombies, Dietrich. These are mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters. They’re war survivors; they deserve better.’

  There was long pause on the other end.

  ‘What aren’t you telling me?’ she asked her husband.

  ‘We’ve nearly depleted the entire viable prison
population. Nearly six months ago, in fact, Jan.’

  ‘What? What are you talking about? We haven’t missed a single hunt!’

  ‘I knew you wouldn’t be onboard, and I didn’t want to upset you.’

  ‘Wait. Just who have we been hunting then?’

  Another pause.

  ‘Dietrich... tell me.’

  ‘Mostly vagrants and the insane we’ve collected from the streets.’

  Jan sat down heavily on her bed. She was feeling light-headed all of a sudden. ‘Jesus, Dietrich, we’re murdering people.’

  ‘They’re indigent and psychotic.’

  ‘Oh! That makes it okay. Silly me, I should have realized that.’

  ‘James Jenkins is U.S. Senator Jenkins’ son, in case you don’t remember. If this hunt doesn’t go well, he tells dear old daddy and we lose one of our biggest supporters in the most influential country in the world. That happens and the watchdogs close right in. Zurgens is right. We could be on the run, wanted for crimes I can’t even begin to list. We’re in too deep.’

  Panic flared in Jan’s voice. ‘When did this become okay? How could I have signed off on this?’

  ‘Just give Zurgens the order. Get some sleep, it will all be over tomorrow. The next hunt isn’t for another week; by then our regular supply will have started back up.’

  ‘Supply? You make it sound so antiseptic.’

  ‘It’s a business, Jan. And it’s our business.’

  ‘Serving pancakes is a business, selling furniture is a business. We are murderers, Dietrich. Do you think the people getting shot in the forehead view it as just a business?’

  Dietrich stayed on the line for a few more minutes trying to calm and console his wife. When he hung up, he immediately called Zurgens.

  ◆◆◆

  ‘Yes, Mr Reynolds, I will take care of everything. No need to worry sir, all will be handled. I’ve already run it by the doctor, he’s ready to go whenever I am.’

  ‘And my wife?’

  ‘What of her, sir?’

  ‘I am under the impression she is at her breaking point Zurgens... she could be a liability.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you’re asking of me Mr Reynolds.’

  Silence stretched out into minutes. Finally, Dietrich cleared his throat and spoke clearly without pause. ‘Disguise her to the point where she is unrecognizable and release her on the hunt.’

  ‘The hunt?’ Zurgens was taken aback but recovered. ‘With all due respect sir, your wife is nearly six feet tall and shaped like a bikini model. She’s going to be difficult to blend in with the indigenous population.’

  ‘I don’t give a fuck how you do it, just get it done! I pay you more than you’re worth. How about you earn some of that fucking money?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ Zurgens answered as Dietrich slammed the phone down. ‘Can you believe this shit?’ Zurgens asked when he went to his brother’s hut and relayed the information.

  ‘Ya.’ Karl already had his boots on, ready to go back to work.

  ‘Going to be a goddamn busy night.’

  ‘Ya.’

  SIX

  It was 2 a.m. by the time the Americans finally collapsed into their bunks. Zurgens diverted some of the staff to the doctor’s lab; it was not unusual for them to have to go there periodically to help clean something up. What was unusual was Karl standing inside with a loaded machine gun, directing them into the holding cells. Within two hours they had the entire staff, twenty-two people, locked up. There was some crying, some praying, but for the most part they were just confused and scared. The prevailing emotion seemed to be acceptance. As refugees, all they’d ever expected was a difficult life eventually ending in a horrific death.

  ‘Keep them quiet,’ Zurgens said to Karl. ‘I have one more to collect.’ He used the spare key he’d been given to gain entry to the main house. He walked quietly. Jan was a light sleeper and she kept a handgun on her nightstand. He could not afford for that shot to go off, warning the guests at the reserve that something was amiss.

  ‘Fucking waste,’ he said as he looked down upon her lithe form. Jan didn’t leave much to the imagination when she went to bed. Having forsaken blankets and clothes, she was nearly naked, except for the satin slip she wore.

  Jan woke with a start, and even before gathering her bearings she’d reached over to her nightstand.

  ‘I have the gun, Mrs Reynolds.’

  ‘Zurgens? What are you doing in here?’ She pulled at the bed sheet to try to cover herself.

  ‘I’m truly sorry Mrs Reynolds, but your husband is the one that signs my checks.’ Without giving her the opportunity to speak or defend herself he grabbed her exposed leg, deftly flipped her over and plunged the hypodermic needle the doctor had given him into her buttocks.

  She kicked out at him, but the powerful sedative was already wresting control from her.

  ‘You’re fine. You won’t remember anything. By tomorrow afternoon this will all be over.’ He pulled a soft robe from her wardrobe and longingly covered her with it, then threw her limp body over his shoulder. He was halfway across the compound when he caught movement from the corner of his eye. It was Mr Weatherford, pacing outside his cabin, smoking a cigarette. Zurgens couldn’t fault him for being awake; it was probably the only time he could escape his wife. The cherry on his cigarette lit up brightly and then went out of view as he turned away from Zurgens.

  ‘Smart little witness, aren’t you?’ Zurgens said as he kept on walking.

  What began as mild anxiety on the part of the staff turned into outright terror when their boss, unconscious and half naked, joined them in the cell. If her life was in danger, then theirs was certainly forfeit. Normally Zurgens woke his guests around 5:30 to get the hunt underway, but by that time the doctor had barely finished injecting everyone. Zurgens hadn’t even begun to disguise Jan. At 6:30, Karl was racing to set up the area with the fresh live props. It would be at least another hour before he was back. Zurgens, who hadn’t slept for over twenty-four hours, was exhausted by the time he started putting out orange juice and fresh fruit for the guests. He cursed the lack of kitchen staff, but he was confident the Americans would still be drunk or entirely too hung-over to ask too many questions this morning.

  Carla and Samuel were the first up. Carla was busy ordering her husband around and talking too excitedly to notice anything out of the ordinary. No, it was Samuel that Zurgens would have to keep an eye on. The small man was looking around; he was definitely aware of the lack of help Zurgens had. He watched as the guide brought glasses and dishes to the table then ran back to the kitchen to refill the coffee urn. Zurgens couldn’t help but be impressed; the man knew something was going on but said nothing. He just walked to the galley and began helping Zurgens carry things out.

  ‘What time will we be resuming the hunt?’ he asked casually as he placed down a handful of cutlery.

  ‘I was going to give the Americans another half hour of sleep, they are already obnoxious enough.’ Zurgens tried to laugh at that last comment in the hopes that Samuel would relax and stop peering at him with those inquisitive eyes.

  ‘You appear as if you could use some extra sleep as well, Zurgens.’

  ‘Probably could. Well, there’s always tomorrow. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to find out where my brother is. Please enjoy some breakfast.’

  ‘Of course, of course.’ Samuel returned to his wife, who looked like she hadn’t even realized he’d left her side. She was still going on about her ungrateful niece or something.

  ‘Karl,’ Zurgens spoke into his radio. ‘You on your way back? The Americans will be up soon and I don’t want them in camp too long.’

  ‘Ya.’

  ‘‘Ya’, you agree, or ‘ya’, you’ll be back soon?’

  ‘Ya, ya.’

  ‘You went to the Hamburg Institute of Technology Karl. You got high marks—fourth in your graduating class. You write at a doctoral level; you know more words than should be legally allowed. Why the fuck is
‘Ya’ the only thing you say?’

  There was no sound on the other end for quite some time, except the occasional crack and pop of an open communication line. ‘What would you have me say? I like Mrs Reynolds, Zurgens. The thought of turning her into a zombie so that those armleuchters can blow her brains out, does not sit well with me. Are those the words you were hoping for?’

  ‘Sorry I asked. We’re in too deep now, Karl. Dietrich goes down, so do we. There is no way we could plead ignorance of what’s been happening here.’ Nothing from his brother. ‘I liked her too Karl, but she was a liability. It would have been her or us.’

  ‘After all we’ve done, brother, are we so much better that it should have been her?’

  Now Zurgens was getting nervous, this was very uncharacteristic of his brother. ‘Karl... what have you done? You can’t just let her go. The doctor injected her, she’s infected now.’

  ‘I know this!’ Karl answered back angrily.

  ‘Karl!’

  ‘She is... safe.’

  ‘Safe? What the fuck does that mean? Her husband ordered her infected and put in the field. What do you think he’s going to do to us when he finds out she’s alive? What’s your big plan, Karl? Running away to Switzerland with her?’

  ‘If I must.’

  ‘Have you lost your damned mind?!’ He rocked back in his chair. Through the window in the communications hut he saw that the Americans were shuffling towards the breakfast table. ‘Shit. I’ll take care of this later. Just get your ass back here so we can start this hunt. Or do you have any other enlightened plans you’d like to share with me this morning?’

  There was a curt ‘No’ in response.

  ‘What a shit day.’ Zurgens watched Jenkins puke all over the breakfast table. ‘Should have made him a zombie.’

  Carla had moved herself away with a surprising degree of alacrity. Now she was busy calling him every name she could think of. Zurgens didn’t remember the Aussies having so many colorful insults. Jenkins’ two friends were laughing at the entire affair.

  ‘I’d better get out there before she punches him and causes an international incident.’