Death Plague [Four Zombie Novels]

by Ian Woodhead

  Steady footfalls on the tiled floor broke him from his stupor. He slowly lifted his head and followed the sound until he saw the figure of his darling sister making her way back from wherever she’d gone. His apathy vanished and Kenny suddenly wished that she wasn’t coming back. He didn’t want her around when he did change. No matter how hard he tried, Kenny couldn’t move his limbs. It felt as if the stinking, cold jelly coating his skin and clothes fastened him to the wall and floor like strong glue.

  How long did he have left? Kenny couldn’t answer that; hell, he had enough problems even remembering his sister’s name. Searching through his memories required way too much concentration.

  She held something in her left hand. For a moment, his hopes heightened, until he realized his memories were in the wrong order. She wasn’t coming back with more of the drug. Just to be sure though, Kenny managed to lift his head enough to see a ceiling above him and not the sky.

  The woman did have something clasped tight in her hand though. What the fuck is her name?

  It wasn’t more drugs, so it couldn’t be that important. Kenny ground his teeth together and stared at an irregularly shaped blood spatter on the wall in front of him. His sister wouldn’t leave him, that much he did know. That meant he’d have to force the sickness back down, push the craving into a wooden box, close the lid and lock the bastard. He’d done it before, he could do it again.

  He couldn’t allow his dead body to hurt her. Kenny took a deep breath, hoping that he’d be able to control himself. He turned his head and smiled at her.

  She’s called Diane.

  He grinned wider. He could do it, all it took was willpower and focus. Those two abilities were in very short supply; his mind wouldn’t stay on track for more than a few seconds. Wasn’t that the sad truth? Even the shock of stumbling across Rossini’s rotting corpse hadn’t fazed him.

  “Not that it was the big fat bastard,” he muttered.

  Even in his fucked up mental state, he knew that it couldn’t have been him. This whole notion of hers of being pulled into another world, some sort of alternate dimension, had bullshit written all over it. The idea was just too ridiculous for words.

  It had to be a doll, a prop, made up to look like that nasty fucker. It all made much more sense than them travelling to another world.

  “How are you doing, Kenny?” His sister stopped by him and crouched down. “I’m sorry for taking so long. You’re not going to believe what I discovered though. It has seriously blown my mind.”

  Her face had lost its usual color. She looked almost as bad as he felt. Kenny stared at her wide eyes, wondering if she’d seen a ghost. Diane shuffled forward, gently opened his fingers, then placed her find in his palm. His initial thought was she’d given him a wooden ruler, until he turned the object around and found letters carved into the dark wood. The letters spelled his sister’s full name, “What the fuck is this?”

  “Yeah, I thought the same words. The grime, different colors on the walls, and the unusual furniture threw me at first; even so, at the back of my mind, something told me that I should know this building.” She paused and took in a deep breath. “Oh, I know this place alright, Kenny. I work here. This is Government House, or another version of the place.” She pulled the name plate out of his hand. “I found my office and this was on the floor, next to the desk. By the looks of the dust, my other self hadn’t been around for a long time. It felt as though somebody was walking across my grave while I looked through the office. I’m not sure if I would have wanted to meet my other self.” She shivered. “From what I found, it didn’t look like she was as pleasant as me.”

  Kenny rubbed the back of his neck, frowning at how soft his flesh felt under his fingertips. Could this be a part of the process, of his inevitable transformation from alive to living dead? Get the fuck away, I refuse to let you beat me. He squeezed his eyes as tight as he could until his vision exploded into a sea of colored points of light.

  “Are you okay?”

  He nodded while turning away from Diane so he could open his eyes. “Listen to what you are saying, Diane.” He already knew that she’d decided to believe this ridiculous story. Just as he knew that no amount of denial on his part would change her mind. Kenny knew that this whole set up had to be one big fake, it was the only scenario that made any sense. “It’s Rossini, he’s just fucking with your head, Diane. It’s what he does. You of all people should know that, considering you’re in the same business of bullshit propaganda.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Kenny shifted his tired body, pleased to see his goading had provoked the desired reaction. “Exactly how it sounded. You’re all one big happy family, sitting in your ivory towers, feeding the workers bullshit every day, laughing as we all slowly die in misery.” Her eyes blazed. Good. A furious sister meant she wouldn’t notice that his body was dying, she might even storm off and leave him here.

  “I’m not going to rise to this, Kenny.” She leaned closer to his face. “You forget who you’re talking to. I know you better than anyone.” Diane stroked the side of his cheek with the back of her hand,

  Her touch felt like he’d pressed the side of his face against a hot plate. Her warmth stirred a desire that he’d already tried to suppress. “Just go, leave me alone,” he snapped.

  “Not going to happen, Kenny. So stop it with the lies.” She grabbed a handful of his coat and pulled him towards her. “Come with me.”

  He had no choice but to allow her to drag him back along the hallway. The expression of a pouting teenage etched on Diane’s face brought back nostalgic memories of the fights they used to have back before everything turned to shit. All those petty arguments over who had stolen the TV remote; accusing each other of badmouthing their closest friends; even leaving the kitchen cupboard door open could have brought them close to a fight.

  What he would give to go back to those days. Even if Diane did get her way most of the time, Kenny always took solace in climbing into his warn, soft bed, complete with clean sheets, and falling asleep while wishing his sister would fall under a speeding car.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He reached forward and wrapped his arms around her. “You are,” he replied. “Diane, I’m sorry, but come on, think about it. What else could this be but a studio?”

  Diane wriggled out of his grasp and wrapped her fingers around his thin wrist. “I have lost count of the times when I wanted to slap you, Kenny. You really can’t see the wood for the trees, you know that?” She turned around and stormed back down the hallway, dragging him behind her.

  Kenny’s stomach rolled at the sight of the body lying in front of the door. Looking at it with fresh eyes, he saw that there was no way that could be anything other than a rotting human corpse.

  She stopped directly in front of the body, released his wrist and glared at Kenny. “Look at it, just look. It’s a dead body and it’s Rossini. Stop glossing over the facts and wake up.” Diane booted it viciously in the side then jumped back as foul gases burst from the ruptured skin. “What did I do that for?” she muttered whilst covering her mouth.

  Kenny spun around and ran over to the wall, desperately trying to keep his stomach where it belonged. That stench had followed him; he slammed his hand over his mouth and nose and waited for it to leave him, sinking to the floor. He paused and lifted his head when he realized that the smell was coming from all around him. Kenny saw his sister pressed up against the shut door and slowly twisted his head.

  Several figures, all dressed in rags, stared at them. They charged forward and took hold of his struggling sister. Two men broke off from the group and approached him. Kenny offered no resistance; his body had used its last reserve of strength running away from Rossini’s corpse.

  The two men wrapped their thick fingers around his limbs, gently pulled him up off the floor, and carried him over to his sister. Kenny’s rolling stomach refused to calm down. Where these people had come from, what they had planne
d for him and Diane, didn’t even get a mention. All Kenny could think of was why anyone could smell so vile and not do something about it. Despite living in a world where the stench of death dominated every other aroma, the smell coming from these individuals was seriously making him ill.

  The largest man holding his legs stopped and let go. He nodded to the woman holding his shoulders and she bent down and placed him gently on the floor. The woman then skirted past him and hurried to rejoin the others. “I’m sorry,” said the blonde man. “We can’t take you any further. You’re too far gone.”

  Kenny watched him pull his ragged clothing to one side to reveal a dark blue jacket. The man reached inside and pulled out a long, thin knife. “No,” he muttered. “Don’t kill me.”

  The man sighed. “It’s too late, you must know that already.” He shook his head. “I should end you right now. We both know that your pain will only last for a second, then you’ll be at peace forever.” He stood up and replaced the knife. “I can’t though, you’re still alive. I’m not a murderer. I’ll be back though, very soon. It’s not like you’re going anywhere.”

  Kenny crawled over to the wall and sat against it, watching the man leave and taking that foul smell with him. He heard the sounds of his sister’s voice cut off in the middle of an abusive sentence. By the sounds of it, they must have muffled her. “I’m sorry, Diane,” he whispered. “I should have listened to you.” The man was right, he wouldn’t be able to stop his body from changing. He should have realized that when he felt the flesh at the back of his neck. At best, he had a few minutes of life left. He fell forwards and crawled to the closest open door. If he was going to turn, at least he should try to lock himself away so he wouldn’t hurt anybody else.

  This was it, the end of the line for his mind. His body was beginning to shut down. Already he could no longer feel his legs. Kenny used the last of his strength to drag his body into the closest corner, feeling hot tears run down his cheeks. He didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want to turn into one of those monsters either. “You fucking idiot,” he wailed. Kenny hadn’t even shut the door. The muscles in his arms went as lifeless as the ones on his legs; he couldn’t even more his fingers.

  His body didn’t even react when he heard shuffling footsteps outside the door, accompanied by the sound of low moaning. That was one noise that Kenny had hoped to never hear again. “Oh fuck, no. Not that,” he whispered. “Please, can’t you just leave me alone?” He gritted his teeth and mentally screamed out, ordering his body to obey his last ever instruction to move. Some movement did return, just enough for him to pull himself a few more inches towards a wooden desk in the middle of the room. If he could just get close enough, all he had to do was roll under it, he’d be safe then.

  He heard another moan. This one came from him when the meager light in the room vanished. Kenny rolled onto his side. A silhouette was framed in the doorway. His weakened eyes could make out no details. Kenny couldn’t even tell if it used to be male or female. Not that it mattered, since when did gender make a difference to the dead? Kenny continued to stare, keeping his head still and attempted not to breathe too heavily. Even if he did only have a few minutes to live, he had no intention of ending up as food for one of those things.

  Kenny whimpered as it jerked its head to the side before taking one clumsy step into the room. A low growl uttered deep from the thing’s throat as it shambled further into the room, heading straight for his location. He tried to roll out of the way as it dropped to its hands and knees, but the table leg was fast against his back. He was too weak to move in any other direction.

  Its reaching fingers snagged Kenny’s leg. He screamed out in agony as its ragged fingernails dug into the back of his ankle before sinking its teeth into Kenny’s calf. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Kenny slammed his teeth tight, and kicked out with his other leg. His foot crashed into the thing’s face. It let go of him and flew backwards, the back of its head hitting the corner of the metal table.

  It bounced back and landed between his legs, finally still. “Fuck you, dead thing,” he snarled. Not that he felt all that triumphant. His warm blood streamed out of the wound and pooled under his leg. “If I wasn’t fucked before, I am now.” He slowly lifted his damaged leg, a little surprised that he was able to move at all considering he’d truly believed that his strength had left him never to return. Kenny put it down to the adrenalin still coursing through his body. The blood had already started to clot. Then again, Kenny had always been a fast healer.

  He dragged his body away from the dead thing and tried to stand up, intending to close that door. Kenny didn’t want anything else to come in nor did he want to escape after his change.

  Why didn’t you let it eat you?

  That would have solved his dilemma in one fell swoop. Kenny wouldn’t be able to hurt or bite anyone. Hell, it would have been the perfect solution. “I don’t want to die, that’s why!” he sobbed. Kenny spun around. “No fucking dead bastard is going feast on my …” his words dried up when he finally saw the zombie’s face. Kenny’s emotions detonated.

  “This can’t be happening to me! I really can’t take any more of this.” He fell against the door frame and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the image of his dead sister lying on the floor, her face frozen in a snarl.

  “I’m so sorry for doubting you, Diane,” he whispered. The truth of the situation finally sank in. He listened to the only sound in the room, his heart, steadily beating against his ribs, distantly wondering how long it would be now until even that silenced. Still, at least the door was shut. When he did change, his body wouldn’t be able to harm anybody. Kenny would be trapped in this room, with the body of his replica dead sister, forever.

  The bite must have accelerated his change. Kenny felt at peace now, having finally accepted his fate. He looked across at the body, feeling the desire to crawl over there and lie with her. It was ridiculous; the thoughts going through his mind were of him holding the body tight against his while his body heat warmed her up.

  He smiled at the fantasy of him now being able to breathe life into some truly dead thing. He couldn’t even save himself, never mind attempt the impossible of bringing the dead back to the land of the living.

  “Why am I still alive?” Kenny lifted both his arms with ease. The pain in his leg had left him, and only a dull throb remained. He peered at the drying blood and shook his head in confusion. He found himself standing up and grabbing the door handle. The urge to lock himself away had vanished along with the pain and tiredness.

  Kenny grabbed the doorframe and launched himself out of the room, falling against the opposite wall. “I’m not yet dead.” He turned his head and the other corpse caught his eye. He began to limp towards the body, not sure why it attracted him. “I’m not dead,” he repeated softly. None of this made much sense. After a bite, he should have changed within a few seconds.

  His grinned faded, then vanished when he stopped a couple of feet from the corpse, his legs finally locking up and refusing to move another inch. This wasn’t him changing into a dead thing. Kenny already knew how that felt. Every muscle in his body lost cohesion and he collapsed onto the floor. Before he smacked into the filthy tiles, something inside Kenny’s mind detonated, filling his vision with blinding white light.

  What the fuck is happening to me?

  The intense white light faded like the dying bulb in a flashlight, leaving him staring at a medley of vivid colors coating the tile beneath his face. He’d never seen anything so profound in his life. Kenny found that he could lift his head. He blinked and gazed around the hallway, staring in wonder at the explosion of color threatening to overwhelm his dizzy mind. The muted greys and washed-out browns no longer existed for him.

  Kenny rolled onto his back, smiling at the shape of a dancing woman he saw in the black mold covering the ceiling. He sat up and blinked again. The intensity of the scenery had now lost some of its vibrancy. There was no time to mou
rn the loss, as the foul stench coming from the bloated corpse rolled over every other sensation. He whipped his head away and scuttled back towards the open door. Kenny stopped moving as soon as the smell became more tolerable.

  Was this a second chance? He closed his mouth and breathed in through his nose. The putrefying stench still filled his senses but now he detected the taint of wet mold, the sour smell coming from his own body, and something else: it reminded him of oranges. Kenny smiled; he detected the trace of his sister’s perfume in the air. This was unreal, it was like his senses had just reactivated back to their default setting, before the sickness stripped had stripped them away.

  Everything was so bright, so new. “I’ve been reborn,” he uttered, tasting the words, knowing that they were true. His sickness had gone forever. He jumped to his feet and leaned down to examine his leg. His blood had soaked into the fabric, and was still wet to the touch, but as he rolled up his trousers, all he saw was an ugly scar. “Fuck me, am I really cured?”

  Kenny chuckled to himself. “And there’s me berating my sister for having an overactive imagination.” He stopped and slowly lifted up his head when another familiar smell crept into his nose. “I’d forgotten all about you,” he said, watching the blond-haired man stop a few feet away from him. Kenny saw the knife in his left hand. He had meant his words about coming back to finish the job.

  “I’m sorry, mate, but you’re no longer needed.” Confusion flashed across the man’s face. Kenny didn’t wait for him to assimilate this new information. He rushed forward, shocked but ecstatic at his new agility. He’d forgotten what it felt like to actually move without his muscles complaining. The man’s knife clattered onto the tiles when Kenny slammed his hand into the wall. “Sorry about that, I didn’t want you to get any funny ideas.”