by Parker, Des
The mop moved and snorted. Nick sat up and threw it aside. His features had returned to human form. He slowly licked his lips and screwed up his face.
“Did someone just pee on me?”
Chapter 38
Aftermath
The clean up had been massive on a truly global scale.
Cleaning up the mess in the aftermath of an apocalypse was always going to be messy, even more so after a zombie apocalypse.
It’s not just broken down cars and smoking ruins, but it’s all those broken bits of people lying about the place, which is probably to be expected.
What was not to be expected were some of those bits talking back to you as you swept them up, and complaining about everything under the sun, but most especially about where the rest of their bits were.
Roy Cavanaugh, a gentle soul who had been a mindless zombie for about two days until he recovered his memory, was now mucking out the high street of a small, non-descript village just to the north.
He had picked up the job, just that morning, and was now preparing himself to pick up his first head.
The street was strewn with broken, misshapen bits of people that could not be recognised. This was probably for the best, as Roy didn’t wish to imagine what happened to the people who owned those bits.
He was just doing his bit for society, and this is why he was about to pick up a head attached to a broken torso.
It was facing away from him and as he leant down to pick it up, it yelled out at him.
“Oy,” said the head.
“Oy,” said Roy, which was not quite the first thing he said, but his earlier words do not bear repeating.
“Do you mind telling me where I am?” said the head.
Roy took a moment to regain his equilibrium after nearly doubling over from shock.
“You’re on the street,” he replied, in a bemused and hesitant voice.
“And where’s the rest of me?” the head asked.
Roy looked around the street. There was an arm hanging loosely from a broken windowpane and two legs twisted at an ungodly angle around a lamppost. “Most of it is down the street.”
“Oh bugger – you haven’t got a box have you?” The head asked, without wondering for even a second how it could talk and function without anything below the ribs.
Roy could see what needed to be done; he just didn’t have the stomach for it.
He knew he’d have to hit it with a stick and put it out of its misery, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it, especially when it asked him the footy score from Saturday’s game.
And all over the world, others felt the same. The half-people, the former zombies missing limbs, and even bits which should have ensured they were technically dead, weren’t doing much of anything except whinging about equal rights.
It was the dawn of the metal age. The science of bionic replacement was about to take a quantum leap in just under a fortnight and a new species of humans were created; part human, part machine.
It took a little bit of figuring out for great minds of the day who, up until this point, had devoted far more attention to finding ways to kill each other.
For once they had to work together to figure out how to put people back together, instead of blowing them apart.
And this wasn’t the only scientific breakthrough.
Scott and Yonny emerged from their seclusion with brand new theories on both quantum tunnelling and goat wrangling, one of which would probably earn them a Nobel Prize and the other a full page spread in New Physics Weekly or Goat’s Monthly.
They thought it wise to keep to themselves everything else that happened, just in case it all fell apart again.
And other things happened. Just small miracles on a global scale, but important to those involved.
Albert and Hettie were married in a ceremony on the site of their return to human form and bought some land just down the valley where they started farming goats.
Nick found a new purpose, one that didn’t involve serving Simon up on toast. He became Dick Meister’s manager and helped his new charge write a best-selling book, the one in which Dick swore he saved the world single-handedly, relying only on his wits, his skills and his God-given hardware.
They thought it best to keep Simon and his contribution out of the headlines, figuring they owed him at least that, and surprisingly everyone believed the story because it was in all the papers and on the television, so it must be true.
A lot happened but there were still some things unresolved; still some matters to settle.
Nick sold his old flat and had just bought a new place in the fashionable part of town but despite a new life beckoning him forward, there was still something that needed doing, something that stood between him and Simon re-establishing their old friendship.
It was not every day that your best friend leads an army against you with the sole purpose of serving you up as a meal, so there was a little matter of trust that Nick and Simon needed to rebuild. Relations between them were strained but in the spirit of loyalty, Simon had come around to Nick’s old flat and was helping him move the last of his stuff away.
They were sitting at Nick’s hastily repaired kitchen table. One of the last things remaining at Nick’s old digs.
“So Dick’s sorted then?” Simon asked as the furniture movers left with the last of Nick’s junk, all of which was being shipped to his new place; a fancy apartment in the happening part of town where the women he hoped to see nude dancing would be of a higher social class.
Nick looked up from his beer. “Yep, they’re even giving him a chat show. It’s amazing how bullshit can make someone interesting.”
“And we’re not mentioned at all in his book?”
Nick shook his head. “Nope. Exactly as you asked. According to Dick, he saved the world single-handedly by fucking every zombie to death – or something like that. Apparently he’s very tired.”
Simon nodded in agreement. “Zombie fucking will do that.”
Nick was building up to the question, the most important question he had to ask, but he was taking it slow and careful, searching for the right moment. He kept circling the moment, putting it off for as long as he could.
“And what about Caroline?” Nick asked, as the tension began building in his gut.
“It’s only early days, but at least she agreed to have dinner with me, just the two of us. To get to know each other - to see if we’re compatible. I don’t blame her after all she’s been through - but it’s wait and see for the moment.”
Nick took a deep breath and steeled himself; it was now or never.
“And what about us, Simon. Are we sorted?”
Simon hesitated for a second then smiled warmly back at him. “You may have tried to eat my face off, but we’re mates, and mates forgive each other.”
Nick nodded, a great weight lifting from his shoulders. “Glad to hear it. And let’s face it, you probably would have tasted like shit anyway.”
They both laughed. Simon stood up and walked over to the kitchen cupboard.
“You want tea then?” He asked as his eyes settled briefly on his old cardigan, now lying over the back of the chair, its great service complete.
Simon felt his world had finally turned a corner and things could only get better from here.
Nick looked up at him. “Here’s to Mates and one last cuppa before we trash this dump.”
Simon laughed heartily for the first time in a long while, opened the cupboard to get some tea -
And a zombie budgie launched at his head…
Chapter 39
Epilogue
The President of the United States sat at his desk in the Oval Office and scratched his temple with a mechanical claw, which replaced a hand he lost in the apocalypse.
A serious looking aide entered. “Excuse me, Mr President. The Leader of the House is here to discuss the budget reforms he expects you to ratify.”
“Is he?” The President pursed his lips. “
Bring him in, will you Standish.”
“Yes Mr President.” The aide nodded and left the room.
A moment later, the aide returned with a wooden box with an open side in which the head, neck and shoulders of a surly looking man sat frowning at him from inside. There were wires leading from the back of the neck into the back of the box where they connected to a highly technical electronic gizmo which kept the head alive and to the President’s mind, annoying.
The Aide placed the box on a chair opposite, the surly head facing the President.
The President faked a smile as best he could and leaned forward so he could see the House Leader’s face, which was obscured by the desk as the box sat on the chair.
“Good Morning Alan. How are you feeling today?”
The face in the box frowned.
“I’ll get straight to the point John. My party expects you to agree to the budget cuts. The economy cannot afford to support those who are sponging off the taxpayer. The government is not here to support the useless third of society.”
The President considered this for a moment.
“Of course you’re absolutely right Alan. And to show the people my commitment to the importance of fiscal restraint, I will immediately put a stop to all those expensive medical procedures where we have been supplying free replacement bodies to those who seem to be short of limbs and torsos. Those people will simply have to make do with what is left of them.”
The President sat down and was no longer visible to the Leader of the House who, from his low vantage point, could not see over the lip of the desk.
“You think you’re funny don’t you.”
The President leaned back and savoured the moment.
“Come now Alan, there is no need to be like that. After all in this nation, everyone is equal under God and seeing your party is so sure it has divine blessing, we can’t make exceptions, even for the rich. Everyone will simply have to accept the fate God has burdened them with and be strong – for the sake of the children.”
“Now hang on, let’s not get too hasty here. I’m sure we can come to a compromise.”
“Of course we can, Alan. It’s about time everyone learned to compromise. The world has changed and I relish this new spirit of co-operation. Don’t you?”
The leader of the House went pale. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
The President could barely contain a grin. “Would you like something to settle your stomach? Oh’ I’m so sorry, I completely forgot that you are deprived in so many things – and by the way, how are they hanging Alan?”
“I fucking hate you.” The Leader of the House snarled.
Fifteen minutes later, the President had the agreement he wanted and the Leader of the House was getting some arms, legs and brand new dangly bits.
Everything was looking rosy and then a General Malvern Starr asked to see him. The President didn’t know the man; he worked for one of those unimportant governments, the ones that weren’t America.
There was an almighty crash as the oval office door caved in followed by half the wall around it as a large man in a military uniform entered, sitting in what for all the world looked like an oversized black coffee cup with six articulated metal legs beneath it. It was apparent that the man had lost both legs in the apocalypse and this transporter unit served as their replacement.
It was clearly too big for the door which is probably why the General didn’t even bother knocking but simply crashed through the door. He was a crash through or crash type of guy and no door, no matter whose it was, would get in his way.
The General’s transporter was specially designed for him after he lost his legs in the apocalypse and much like his ego; the giant coffee cup with legs was two sizes bigger than it needed to be.
The President looked him up and down and wondered if it was also compensating for something else.
The General didn’t take much of his time but it changed the President’s entire day. There was one thing the General kept stressing their governments needed to investigate.
Something rumoured, something new that had been sighted, since the apocalypse ended.
The President didn’t want to believe it, he couldn’t believe it - it couldn’t possibly be true.
It was one word, the General insisted was being repeated constantly on obscure web forums, one thing that couldn’t possibly exist, now the apocalypse was over and that one word was – zombie.
And the General was strangely excited…
Coming Soon
Lord of the Zombies 2
Awakening
Once he was a man alone in a world of zombies, now he is a zombie alone in a world of men.
But only half a zombie - no one dares say impotent.
For Simon, a man who once saved the world from a zombie apocalypse, this is the ultimate irony.
With his friends in mortal danger, Simon must fight not only his own growing zombie nature but also the twisted plans of a madman.
And to succeed this time, he will need to join forces with his most implacable enemy…
Preview Lord of the Zombies 2 - Awakening
Prologue
There was an apocalypse.
An energy wave from space mutated almost everyone into zombies, vampires or werewolves.
There were a handful of survivors – a man, a woman, a porn star with a tank, a psychotic duck, two really clever scientists and a shitload of zombie killing goats.
Only one of them saved the world.
His name was Simon.
He made the ultimate sacrifice to save humanity, well not really, but he thought it was at the time - and he forgot to put the bin out.
Luckily, he came back and someone put the bin out, because that sort of thing really annoys the neighbors.
Unfortunately, something else came back with him…
Chapter One
Creature
The creature sat squat on the concrete, completely ignoring its surrounds.
To say it was a creature was possibly an overstatement. It was actually some kind of bird.
That is to say it looked vaguely like a bird, about the size of a small chicken, except if Colonel Sanders tried to barbeque this chicken like thing, it would rip both his arms off, sprinkle them with his eleven secret herbs and spices and feast on them, from the inside out.
This bird like thing was bloated and white, tufts of blood streaked spindly feathers poked out from distended flesh. It had not so much flown into the alleyway but crashed there, stood up, peered around with eyes like twin black circles of evil, daring anyone to say the landing was anything other than perfect.
It resembled a budgie, something that once was cute and small, but it had taken those small cute bits, vomited them out through a jagged, menacing beak and stomped on the results.
Its name was Axe.
A rat peered out from a drain and scuttled across the wet, filthy bitumen to drive two razor sharp incisors into what it believed was the rear of a recently dead chicken.
The recently dead chicken took offence.
There was a squeal, a momentary blur of fur and then Axe sat back on his haunches, gnawing on one of the rat’s legs, completely ignoring the squirming rodent still attached.
The cats were cleverer, they were much larger than Axe and they watched from the shadows, confident of their odds. There were four of them and they were deathly silent as they crept up behind Axe.
The cats thought size didn’t matter, they were wrong.
It happened in a flash.
The cats pounced and shrieked mid-pounce as Axe turned his evil face upon them. There was a scuffle, several otherworldly yowls and then, quite suddenly, no more cats.
The soldiers watched in dumbfounded shock as the scene unfolded before them.
In a second, their awe turned to horror as the zombie budgie spied them watching him from the street and his evil eyes narrowed.
They screamed and dived for cover as he leapt.
But Axe
was no match for forty tons of armor and knocked himself unconscious on the front of the tank.
The General smiled from the grossly oversized turret and scratched his chin with a spindly metal claw that briefly popped up from inside the tank.
The soldiers bundled Axe into a shipping container on the back of a truck around the corner as the General closed the hatch. A moment later the tank backed out of the alley and trundled off into the night following the prize.
The half eaten rat sat up, looked around, tried to stand and fell off one of his legs, and was sure he heard a snigger from the shadows.
Chapter Two
Awakening
When you are drooling, chasing someone down the street, the last thing you will be thinking about is sex, unless you are Simon.
Simon’s mind was split in two, a battle for supremacy raging deep inside his subconscious. On the one hand he was dreaming of chasing beautiful women down the street and on the other hand something else was wondering which bits to chew on when it caught them and if they would go well with potatoes.
Something snapped and his higher mind shut down.
It awoke with a start, the drool already running down its chin. It sat up abruptly; it was in a bed even though it didn’t know what a bed was. It was hungry and saw two fleshy lumps at the bottom of the bed.
It lunged at those lumps, didn’t realize they were its own feet, overbalanced and catapulted itself off the side of the bed, landing with a thump on the floor.
It sat up again, eyed its own feet suspiciously and got a whiff of humans. It looked up and saw the closed bedroom door and guessed, very slowly, that there were humans on the other side of the door.
It launched itself at the door, hit with an almighty bang and knocked itself unconscious.