“The first thing I think we should do is tie up Mr. Johnson. If what the news was saying was true, the aggressiveness was just the first stage,” Gary said.
All eyes turned to the still unconscious Jason Johnson.
“Okay… Good thinking, Gary. Mack, Reggie, grab a chair and put Mr. Johnson in it. I am going to find something to tie him up with,” Beverly said.
Mack and Reggie went over to their boss. Reggie stopped and looked down at him.
“Hey Mack, you ever had to grab a Johnson this big?” he said.
Mack smiled and grabbed his crotch.
“No, but your momma does, most every night,” he said.
The two slapped hands and enjoyed their adolescent joke.
“Guys, whoa!” Gary said, gesturing towards Beverly.
Reggie and Mack look chagrined and glanced toward Beverly.
“Sorry, Bev,” Mack said.
“Yeah, we didn’t mean nothin’,” Reggie said.
Beverly ignored them as she spied the long orange extension cord that ran from the far wall to the television. She went over and unplugged it.
“Nice, guys,” Gary said.
Reggie scowled at him, “Screw you, Gary, grab his feet,” he said.
The three men plopped Johnson into a padded rolling chair as Beverly came over with the extension cord. In a few minutes they had him secured to the chair.
The four of them stood back and looked at Johnson tied to the chair.
“So, what now? How does this work, man?” Reggie asked.
Nobody answered. Finally, Gary spoke up.
“Well… Usually, in a zombie type situation—”
“Usually in a zombie type situation?! There ain’t nothing usual about this situation at all, Gary! I mean what the-” Reggie shouted, cutting off Gary.
“Hey!” Beverly interjected. Her frustration had reached beyond a boiling point and she wasn’t about to let the conversation devolve into another chaotic shouting match.
“Let him finish! The time for making fun of Gary is over. What you used to laugh at is outside, so maybe we listen to what he says, okay?” Beverly said.
Reggie and Mack got quiet.
“Go ahead, Gary,” Beverly said.
Gary took a deep breath and continued.
“Well, it’s like I was saying. In any zombie type situation, there is usually some period of time between the bite and when the person turns, right? So if he came after you, Bev, we gotta figure that he has started to turn,” Gary said.
“And we’re sure he got bit? I mean he came after Bev, but maybe it was cause he thought she got bit or something, I don’t know,” Mack said.
The four all stared at Johnson again.
“Well, should we check him out, see if…”
Nobody stepped forward or said anything. Finally all eyes came to rest on Beverly. She stared back at them in disbelief. She sighed and looked at Johnson.
“Fine, you bunch of cowards,” she said.
Beverly moved in close to Johnson and started to inspect him. When she moved in closer, she noticed a spot of blood on the back of his collar. Gently pushing the collar down, her face blanched.
“What?! What is it?!” Reggie hollered.
Gary, Mack, and Reggie came around behind Johnson and looked at what Beverly was pointing at. At the nook between Johnson’s neck and shoulder, a jagged strip of flesh had been ripped away.
“So he’s definitely been bit! Now what?!” Reggie cried.
Gary kept his eyes on Johnson.
“The only way to stop a zombie, I mean what makes zombies so scary is that they won’t stop. You can’t shoot them in the chest or wing them. If they can’t walk, they will just crawl after you. The only way to stop a zombie is to get them in the head,” Gary said.
“What, like shoot him? Okay, anybody bring a gun to work? Cause I sure didn’t,” Mack said.
“Shoot the boss? I mean he’s the boss. Everybody hates their boss, but-” Reggie said.
“We don’t need a gun!” Gary said, cutting off Reggie. “Blunt force trauma will do the trick, too. We just need to destroy the brain.”
The sound of Johnson’s voice startled them all back to reality. They all looked in shock as their boss squirmed against his restraints.
“Hey! What’s this? Who tied me up?” Johnson asked.
Reggie approached Johnson.
“Sorry, boss, but you got bit, tried to eat Beverly and everything, so now we have to bash your brains in. Nothing personal,” Reggie said.
Johnson laughed at what he clearly thought was a joke. When he saw nobody else laughing he worked against the restraints anew.
“Come on, guys, enough already. Let me loose. We have work to do if we want to go home,” he said.
“Sorry, boss, but you’re not going anywhere. Gary said we have to destroy your brain cause you’re a zombie,” Mack said.
Jason Johnson could feel the nervous tension creeping up his spine. As he studied the faces of his employees he began to suspect that maybe they really weren’t kidding.
“I didn’t attack Beverly, I wasn’t…” Johnson’s words trailed off as a disturbing memory flooded his mind.
Going outside the gate, of something slamming into him from behind and a sharp pain in his shoulder, fighting it off and running back inside the gate, locking it behind him.
Did I lock the gate? He thought, suddenly not sure.
“Look, I feel fine. Do I look like a… a zombie to you?” Johnson said.
Everyone looked at Johnson then at each other. Gary looked down.
“The thing is Mr. Johnson. We found what looks like a bite mark on your shoulder, and—”
“Yeah, but I feel fine, goddammit!” Johnson yelled, cutting Gary off.
Gary tried to keep his cool.
“And the news was saying that after the aggressive stage, someone infected could appear normal for a while, so…”
Johnson started bouncing up and down in the chair, twisting and turning, trying to loosen the cord wrapped around him.
“I’m your foreman! I’m the boss! Let me the hell out of this chair!” Johnson screamed.
Gary ushered the other three away. They gathered in close and spoke in hushed tones.
“So, do we draw straws or what?” Reggie asked.
The others looked at him.
“You know, to…” he said, putting his hands together like he was holding a bat and making a chopping motion.
They all cast their eyes over at Johnson.
“Don’t look at me like that! Get over here and let me out of this chair!” he screamed.
The group turned back into their circle.
“It should be quick, I mean no need for him to suffer… you know, anymore than he is, has… whatever,” Gary said.
“Someone strong, then. Someone who can really smash his head in one blow,” Mack said.
Three sets of wide eyes stared at Mack. He blanched and held up his hands.
“Oh, no! Not me. I can’t kill anybody, man. No way,” he said.
Reggie scrunched up his face. “Oh you big baby! Go get that oversize crescent wrench we use for the valves and whack him one good one right in the bean!” Reggie said.
Mack looked at Reggie. “Listen to you, tough guy. If it’s so easy, you get the wrench and whack him!”
Reggie held up his hands. “Whoa! Not me, Dude. I’m strictly into non-violence and shit!”
Gary smirked at Reggie. “Bullshit, Reggie! You and Mack are always pushing me around, bullying me. Where was your non-violence then, you asshole!” Gary said.
Reggie shrugged. “Aww, hey, you know, Gary. We was just having some fun is all. We would never hurt you or nothin’,” Reggie said.
Silence again fell on the group. Across the room, Johnson still struggled.
“Wrench?! You don’t need any wrench, guys. Look, if you lef me auf, I promif…I promif, I will juf lea… leaf,” Johnson said. He looked confused by the words coming out of his
own mouth.
“Hey, why is he talking like that?” Reggie asked.
Gary looked at Johnson then at the others, his face going pale.
“It’s the second stage. The news said that after they turn aggressive they appear normal for a while before they go into like a trance or something. It sounds like Mr. Johnson is… turning,” Gary said.
Everyone but Gary stared at Johnson. Johnson had quit struggling and was sitting slack-jawed in his chair. He slowly worked his legs like he was trying to walk but was held fast by the restraints. Gary stared down at the ground and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll do it,” Gary said.
No one seemed to hear Gary, they were all transfixed by the change coming over Jason Johnson.
“I’ll fucking do it!” Gary shouted.
They all turned to Gary, not saying a word. Finally, Mack gestured to Reggie. Reggie noticed, but acted like he did not understand. Further prompting did nothing to clear things up for Reggie. Losing his patience, Gary blurted out. “He wants you to go get the big wrench, Reggie!”
Understanding dawned on Reggie’s face and he turned and ran down the gangway to the generators.
Gary looked at Johnson while he waited for Reggie to come back with the big wrench. He told himself that there was nothing left of Jason Johnson in the shell that was his body. According to zombie law, the Undead were just hosts for the virus, a delivery system for protein so the virus could feed and not a real person. Gary knew that there were innovations that developed in zombie literature that expanded the ethos, that seemed to allow that zombies could retain some thought patterns of their former selves, that allowed them to be aware on some level of what they were doing, but Gary was a purist and would have none of it. Still, that was fiction and this… this was reality, staring him right in the face. What if Mr. Johnson were still in there, would tying him to a chair and bashing in his brains with a huge pipe wrench be murder? Could you murder a zombie?
Gary’s thoughts were interrupted as Reggie trotted over. In one hand he was carrying the biggest crescent wrench Gary had ever seen. In the other, he had a crowbar. Reggie thrust the crescent wrench at Gary. As Gary took hold of the handle, his arms dropped and the business end of the wrench fell to the floor with a heavy metallic “clunk”. Reggie let out a snicker.
“Damn, Gary. Those puny little sticks you call arms can’t even tote a wrench?!”
Beverly looked hard at Reggie.
“Shut up, Reggie. You carried that wrench pretty easy, Maybe you wanna do it?” she said.
Reggie looked down as Beverly held her stare on him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Give him the crowbar and quit being an asshole for five minutes, if you can.” Beverly said.
Mack took the wrench from Gary and slung it over his shoulder. Reggie handed over the crowbar to Gary. Armed with the crowbar, Gary walked up to Jason Johnson. Behind him, Mack laughed under his breath at Reggie. Reggie glared at Mack and punched him in the arm.
Johnson, or what used to be Johnson, was drooling and staring at a point on the floor about six feet in front of him. He continued to strain against the restraints like a wind up toy on its last ounce of power. Gary took a breath and steeled himself. He raised the crowbar above his head and looked into the blank face of his onetime boss. The seconds ticked by and Gary’s resolve weakened. He lowered the crowbar and turned away, letting out a deep sigh.
“I can’t do it,” he said.
“Oh, what the—!” Reggie started before shutting up under another baleful gaze from Beverly.
“I can’t do it like this!” Gary said. “Untie him, and when he turns and comes at me—”
“Like hell!” Reggie shouted, this time undeterred by any look. “When he turns we ain’t gonna be nothing but minute rice to that fucker. We ain’t untying shit!”
Gary looked around the room. Johnson’s office caught his eye.
“Wheel him in there and lock me in with him. I’ll untie him and whack him when he turns. Just let me out when I tell you. Beverly, make sure they let me out, okay,” he said.
Beverly nodded.
“Listen, Gary. You don’t have to do this. Just lock him in his office and we’ll all get out of here,” she said.
Behind her, Reggie and Mack tried to figure out how to push the slack-jawed Johnson towards his office. Neither man wanted to get close, so Mack clamped the big crescent wrench onto the back of the chair and began to push, keeping Johnson a wrench handle length away.
“It’s not safe, Bev. We can’t leave until we know what’s out there and when he turns and catches our scent, he will bang and slam and tear at whatever is holding him until he sinks his teeth into us. No, it’s gotta be done, I just have to do it my way,” he said.
“Alright, he’s in there,” Mack called from across the room. Beverly gave Gary’s skinny arm a squeeze as he solemnly went to Johnson’s office. Upon entering, Gary turned and looked at Reggie and Mack as he stood in the doorway. Neither man could hold his gaze as they closed the door and shut him in.
Four
Gary stared at the closed door for several seconds, then turned. He walked up to Johnson. Johnson did not acknowledge his presence. Gary moved around behind him and loosened the extension cord that bound him, letting it fall away. Johnson made no motion acknowledging that he was free. His legs had gone still and he slumped in the chair, his eyes fixed on the floor. Gary moved to the door and stood in front of his boss. He raised the crowbar high over his right shoulder and waited. He watched as Johnson’s chest rose and fell, each slow breath filling his lungs before being expelled. It seemed to Gary that the man’s respiration was slowing. Would it stop? How long after it stopped would he have? Gary watched as the rise and fall of Johnson’s breathing became almost imperceptible. After what seemed like forever, there was no more movement. Johnson was still. Gary kept a death grip on the crowbar. Muscles taut, his shoulders began to ache from the tension. One minute ticked by, then two. The anticipation and the physical strain began to take their toll on Gary. Beads of sweat ran down his face and into his eyes. With his left hand he quickly wiped the sweat away. As he gripped the crowbar anew, his eyes caught the slightest of movements. Not being sure, Gary took a step closer and leaned his head towards Johnson. Another movement caught his attention and his eyes were drawn to Johnson’s hands. Almost imperceptibly at first, enough only to convince Gary that it was a trick of the mind, he thought he saw Johnson’s fingers begin to twitch. Gary held his breath and stared at Johnson’s hands. The seconds ticked away and then, what before could have been written off as his stressed mind playing tricks, blossomed into reality. Johnson’s hands sprang open, his fingers splayed out to full extension. All the color fled Gary’s face and he swallowed hard. He still held the crowbar, but his arms went limp and fell by his sides. Gary backpedaled across the room, his back slamming into the locked door. He kept his eyes locked on his boss as the thing that was Johnson began to move. Its head twitched and its body convulsed. Gary felt his blood turn to water as the movements became more coordinated. The thing’s head turned, seeming to scan the room.
Gary lost it. The crowbar hanging forgotten in his right hand, he began banging on the door with his left, his gaze never leaving the Undead thing in front of him.
“Hey! Let me out of here! Help!” he shouted.
Gary realized his mistake immediately, as the dead eyes of what used to be Jason Johnson came to rest on him.
Outside the office, Mack stood in front of the door. There was no lock, so he gripped the doorknob tight, securing Gary inside. Behind him, Reggie stood with his back to the door, facing Beverly, who looked like she was ready to rabbit. Reggie kept his hands resting gently on her shoulders, but she acted like she didn’t notice, her eyes locked on the office door, her thoughts of Gary inside. Mack, Reggie, and Beverly jumped at the sound of banging and Gary’s panicked call. Beverly instinctively tried to move passed Reggie, but he held her fast. From inside Johnson’
s office, the banging became more frantic. Through the wall, Gary’s desperate plea sounded.
“Let me the fuck out of here, you assholes!”
Beverly lunged for the door, but Reggie carefully but firmly pushed her back. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the door and pushed against Reggie’s restraint.
“We have to let him out! Open the door!” Beverly shouted.
Beverly looked up into his stony face. Reggie could not meet her eyes and his gaze fell to the floor.
“Please! Open the door! Bever-”
Gary’s words were cut short by the sound of hissing and feral groaning, fast heavy footfalls replaced his cry.
Beverly cried at the sound of her name cut off so suddenly. Reggie shut his eyes tight. Beverly’s hands covered her mouth, stifling a scream that constricted in her throat. Over by the door, Mack clenched his mouth tight and breathed in rasps through his nose, keeping a death grip on the doorknob.
From inside the office there was a blood curdling scream and then something slammed against the door with a tremendous jolt. The impact caught Mack by surprise and the door opened a quarter of an inch before Mack could force it closed. Jason Johnson’s name plate flew off the door. It bounced twice and slid to a stop face up across the floor.
Several seconds of heavy silence passed, everyone held their breath, too afraid to breath.
Several more seconds ticked away and then a voice sounded.
“I’m alright. You can open the door,” Gary said.
There was a collective release of breath, then Beverly pushed passed Reggie and ran up to Mack, who stood, still blocking the door. A withering glare from Beverly melted his resolve and he stepped away. Beverly fumbled for the knob and swung the door open wide.
Gary, his face awash with shock and void of emotion, shuffled out. In his right hand hung the crowbar, the straight end dragging on the ground and making an empty metallic sound. Beverly, Reggie, and Mack tracked him with their eyes as he dropped the crowbar on the couch in front of the fallen television and went toward his station. Mack turned and looked into Johnson’s office. On the floor, reaching out for the threshold, like an exhausted runner grasping for the finish line, was what was left of their boss. Skull fragments lay midst ruined brain matter, his head caved in and smashed. Without saying a word, Mack closed the office door.
Substation: The Last Stand of Gary Sykes (Human Extinction Level Loss Book 2) Page 3