Death Plague [Four Zombie Novels]

by Ian Woodhead

  He looked over towards the edge of the building, listening to the other Stephen’s panting. Fuck, it was the brute who had scratched this in, not him. He dug his fingers under the edge and tugged, lifting the skylight off its holder a few inches. He pushed his hands right under and pulled the plastic up, giving him just enough space to slide his body under.

  “He’s going to know what you’re doing, he’s you.” No, fuck him, he wasn’t Stephen at all. He climbed through the gap and gritted his teeth at the sudden shock of the edge of the skylight falling onto the tops of his fingers. He counted to three then let go, hoping that in this world there would still be a floor beneath him.

  His feet hit a pile of clothing. Stephen collapsed his knees and rolled over, watching two silhouettes run past the skylight. “Fuck the pair of you,” he whispered, smiling. “So much for the other Stephen being just like me.”

  Where the hell was he? He looked around the dim room, trying to figure out just what the place held. He walked along the bare floorboards, gazing in confusion at the large wooden crates, each one overflowing with rotting clothing. The stench wafting from the material made him gag. It didn’t take a great leap of faith to work out that all of these pieces must have been pulled off corpses. Stephen had no idea why anybody would even think of doing such a pointless act.

  He shrugged to himself; like it really mattered. His only concern was to find some way out of this place. The thought of him actually being in another world now scared the crap out of him, but it was also exciting. He had heard all the tales about these two other places. Everyone who worked in the upper commands had heard about them, but nobody would dare openly speak of the concept; it just wasn’t worth it. You learned from a very early age that a loose tongue could get you put into the wrong end of one of Rossini’s game zones.

  Stephen stopped, bent down, and picked up a woman’s leather boot. As he turned it over in his hands, he wondered if Rossini knew about this place. He sighed to himself. More than likely, Stephen was probably the only one who didn’t know. By the looks of it, his dirty fucking wife was very intimate with this world. Now he saw what she’d meant when Stephen accused her of having an affair.

  “You sneaky bitch,” he muttered. Stephen saw a flash of movement in the corner of his eyes and hurried around the back of one of the crates. Watching the familiar shape of his wife walk towards where he was hiding. Stephen slowed down his breathing, listening to their footsteps stop. They were on the other side of the crate. Even with the foul stench coming from the decaying clothing, Stephen could still detect his wife’s perfume. It annoyed and upset him to realize that he would never again smell that scent on her naked body, not now, not after what had happened tonight.

  “I still don’t understand how this can be a mistake, Natalie.”

  Stephen got ready to run, just in case the other Stephen suddenly decided to take a quick peek around the corner. He had no wish to meet his maker at the hands of himself. He blinked, finding a bubble of hysterical laughter rising up his throat. He slammed his palm against his mouth and thought of just how sharp that axe of his would be. The vivid thought of that blade cleaving his head in two soon helped him regain control of his traitorous body.

  “It looks like one of our members hasn’t been listening to reason,” growled Natalie. “You remember Joseph? Well, he got the stupid idea that he could find more worlds, some lovely little paradises that haven’t had to suffer this fucking plague.”

  Stephen heard the withering sarcasm dripping from her every word. It was obvious that she didn’t approve. He had no idea why, though; finding another world that didn’t have the living dead shambling around would solve all of their problems. He closed his eyes, remembering what it felt like to walk through fields or woodland without having that oppressive fear that an attack could happen at any moment. He’d do anything to relive that experience.

  “He was warned of the potential consequences. Joseph knew full well that if he tried to alter the devices, the skin around the three worlds would start to split open.” She sighed. “Come on, Stephen, he’s not here. I want you to take me to your house. I’m suddenly very tired.”

  “I don’t care about how tired you are, Natalie.”

  Stephen heard the woman let out a surprised yell. It appeared that this other Stephen wasn’t quite as timid as he was. The image of his other self using his axe on her swam into his mind. Stephen smiled.

  “You can sleep later on. We need to find a way back to your world. If I don’t get my clan members more of your tablets, most of them will be dead within the next couple of weeks.”

  Stephen looked down at his mud-caked boots, wondering how he was going to get out of here himself. The urgent tone in the other Stephen’s voice reminded him that he wouldn’t last that long without his supply of tablets either. Although the idea of just disappearing into this world did have a certain amount of appeal, he’d much rather stay alive by going back to where he came from. He listened to the sound of their rough kissing before quietly running over to the next wooden crate.

  In all the years he’d been with Natalie, he had never once raised his hand to her, no matter how much the provocation. In truth, Stephen had always been aware that the woman had the temper and strength to punch him into next week if he had decided to get violent. It looked as though the strange woman actually had wanted him to slap her around.

  “I hope you’re both happy together,” he whispered, as he reached the next crate. Stephen ran around the back and leaned against the wood, trying to work out his next move. He didn’t want to spend his final hours wandering around this strange but familiar place until he keeled over and died. Stephen searched his pockets in the vain hope that he had a couple of spare tablets tucked into the corners. No such luck though, all he found in there was a single folded-up piece of paper. He pulled it out, not sure where it had come from. He knew for a fact that he hadn’t placed it in there.

  There was a single scrawled word, written in blue pen: Convergence. He looked at the word for a few more seconds before tucking it back into his pocket. Stephen heard the sound of their footsteps receding and peered around the corner, watching the pair of them head back to where they’d come from.

  He followed them, thinking that they would have a better idea of how to get out of there than he did. There had to be another way back to the game zone. His wife obviously thought so, and she knew more of what was going on here than he did. By the sounds of it, everybody knew more than him. If he did manage to get back, Stephen would have to have a little chat with Rossini, preferably with a gun pushed against the side of the man’s head.

  Stephen reached the open doorway, suddenly remembering just how enthusiastic his partner had been about the disposal of his wife. Sure, they would both profit from the operation, but now he wondered exactly how else Rossini would have profited. He turned around, gazing at the rows upon rows of crates, each one full of clothing. Did he really want to know their purpose?

  He grabbed the door frame to stop himself from hitting the floor. The shock of recent events must have decided that this was a great time to pay him a visit. His nails dug into the rotten wood as violent shakes surged through his body. It wasn’t just his present situation that had set this off, that much he did know. His whirling mind saw Rossini and he standing over that pit, watching the resident dead things finish off what was left of his wife’s body.

  Only there would be no celebrations. Not from Stephen. It was obvious that Rossini would have never allowed him to live to collect Natalie’s vast family wealth, or take her seat on the council. Stephen would have found himself being pushed into that pit to join his wife for the final time.

  “I’m such a fucking idiot,” he snarled, straightening his back before leaving the room full of clothes. Thanks to his decision to climb into bed with Rossini, even if he did find a way back to his world, his life expectancy would be measured in minutes if that man caught up with him. “What am I going to do now?”

&n
bsp; Stephen followed the red-painted path between the huge, silent machines that dominated this room. Like the crates full of clothes in the other room, he had no idea what their purpose was for. He stopped and turned around, moaning when he saw there was no longer a doorway to the clothes room. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said. Had he just moved back? Stephen walked off the path, subconsciously aware that this pathway might serve a similar purpose to the path in the game zone. “Don’t be so fucking stupid,” he laughed to himself nervously, still taking the time to examine the grey-pitted concrete floor just in case there were any tell-tale signs of any pits by his feet.

  There was something else that he’d just noticed too. On the far stone, behind the huge hulking metal contraption, Stephen saw a tiny crack of light illuminating a patch of floor behind the machine. Curious, Stephen walked towards it, seeing that the closer he got, the more detail emerged. It wasn’t stone after all. The light was coming from a painted-over window. He stopped directly in front of it and ran the tip of his finger across the paint, stopping when his finger covered over the light. He scraped off a few more flecks of black paint, smiling as the blazing sunlight streamed through the now clean glass.

  He wasn’t back home, that was for sure. It shouldn’t be daylight for at least another few hours. Stephen bent down and gazed through the glass. He saw fields and trees and in the distance, a collection of old-fashioned cottages.

  “Fuck, this is so beautiful.”

  “Looks can be deceiving, Stephen.”

  Yelping, he spun around and caught sight of a vague human shape sitting on a metal platform that ran along the room, connecting the machines.

  “Don’t be too alarmed. I mean you no harm.”

  Stephen squinted and forced his eyes to the floor when a powerful flashlight beam was shone at his face.

  “Sorry, just making sure that I had the right Stephen.” The man placed the flashlight in his lap. “I’m glad you’re still alive and that the others didn’t catch you. That would have been …” he paused. “It would have been most unfortunate.”

  “Who are you?”

  The man chuckled to himself. “That’s a very good question. Let’s be honest here, I think you’ve had enough information tonight to last you a lifetime.” He stood up and started to climb down the ladders bolted to the machine. He jump off the last couple of rungs and walked over to the man.

  “You’re Joseph!” said Stephen.

  The man smiled. “Well, I’m one of them. Welcome to my world, by the way.” He thrust his hand into Stephen’s and enthusiastically shook it. “Well, not that it is our world anymore. Your world kind of owns us now, I suppose. The official designation for this place is now Food World. We supply all your city’s meals.”

  Stephen looked at the vast machine behind him. “I suppose that’s what these machines are used for?”

  Joseph nodded. “Yes, they’re processers.”

  “What do you process?”

  “Our dead.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  His wife’s eyes grew larger and larger until they melted together to form one gelatinous ball the size of Tony’s fist. He shook away the surreal image, ordering his tremulous thoughts to stay on track and commit to piecing his body back together. Did his arm belong behind him? Why did he only possess two hands? His mind refused point-blank to help him, its nebulous thoughts only focused on the underwater noises traveling through his segmented body.

  Ellen must have decided that he no longer wanted to play as he now watched her roll towards a large hole. The underwater sounds now had two beats. Tony wasn’t interested in the random announcements from his traitorous mind, he just wanted to see if his wife would actually fall into that hole. He wasn’t even sure that the vast ball of flesh was the woman he’d married all those years ago, considering that every part of her flesh had clumped together now.

  Her marble-shaped body disappeared from sight, and seconds later, horrified screaming filled his ears. Too late for him to realize that she’d rolled into a zombie pit.

  The sound of shrieks continued even though his perception began to alter, to take on the guise of reality. Tony fell a million miles from one inch above the ground to find his feet beneath his legs. His mind was no longer a separate entity, yet the screaming continued. He slammed his hands against his ear, silently thankful that his ears were back where they belonged. He turned around to see his two companions, both convulsing in the wet mud, their dirt-covered mouths both opening and shutting like starving fish. Their voices cut out and they stiffened like boards before sighing.

  So, they’d made it. Both his new colleagues turned to the side and threw up. Tony chuckled to himself, remembering his first time travelling the tablet express. Parts of their bodies and minds were probably still catching up. When they were whole, both of them would no doubt have a few choice words to say about this method of traveling. Most of them would not be too pleasant.

  Wherever they had landed, it seemed peaceful enough, which meant that at least they had time to recover. He sat up and placed his hands on the ground behind him while taking a closer look at their new environment. The first things he noticed were the dilapidated hulks of several cars a few feet away. Behind them were the remains of a row of tall stone buildings, their black windows revealing nothing of what lay inside them. Tony shivered. He couldn’t help it. Wherever they had landed, this was not a good place to stay for too long. No living human had been here for a long time. As for dead humans? Who knew.

  Did this place even have walking dead people? That blind optimism popped like a blood-filled balloon as soon as the all too familiar smell of bad meat drifted past his nose. Could they be back home? Tony studied the buildings around him. He didn’t recognize any of them, but then again, the capital wasn’t the only city in his world. “Oh fuck,” he uttered, when his thoughts turned towards home. His stomach folded in two and a small panic bubble expanded at the back of his mind.

  What if this was another citystate? One of the many abandoned and left to the dead, ones truly dead and the ones still moving, Just great, he had traveled from one world to another and back again, only to find himself in one of the more dangerous places on the planet. Lady Fate certainly had a dark sense of humor; either that or the bitch enjoyed shitting on his head from a great height.

  He jerked his head away from his groaning companions, staring intently at one of the vehicles. He shifted his eyes from the wheels buried in the vegetation, pushing up through the crumbling asphalt, hoping that the movement he’d caught from the corner of his eye was nothing more than a patch of weeds brushing against the fender, or even better, a product of his hyper imagination.

  Tony scrambled over to the others, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of the man beginning to show signs that he was coming out of the queasiness. He obviously had a more robust constitution than Tony did.

  He gently placed one of his hands across the woman’s open mouth, effectively muffling her loud moaning. He felt her soft skin under the palm of his hand and thought of his wife, immediately feeling guilty, wondering if the bizarre hallucination that he’d experienced while traveling here was just his mind reminding him that he had other responsibilities. Tony hadn’t given hardly any thought about Ellen since the incident with Joseph. The poor woman must be out of her head with worry. He stopped and re-examined his thought process. Ellen had her meetings to go to today. Even with half the capital in flames, she wouldn’t have noticed. The woman would be in her element, doing what she enjoyed, partying with the elite and cozying up with any founders that might be close by. The chances were that she probably hadn’t even noticed he was missing.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, leaning closer to her. “As you and your friend saved my life, it’s only right that I try save yours in return. It would be a very good idea not to make any noise. I think that we’ve landed in another citystate. I hate to think how many shambling dead could be close by.”

  The picture of
his wife’s eyes, growing larger every second, thrust to the front of his mind as he reluctantly moved his hand away. The girl must be conscious enough to realize the ramifications of his statement. He slowly removed his hand, then helped her to sit up. She muttered a quiet thanks before crawling over to the other man. Tony wondered if they were husband and wife.

  He tucked himself behind the remains of a tumble-down wall, avoiding the sharp stones, and peered over the top, looking back at that car. It must have been his imagination; there was nothing moving over there. He kept watch, just in case. None of them were in any fit state to start battling dead people, all desperate to sink their teeth into their sweet flesh.

  Why couldn’t he have landed back where he’d left from or, even better, in his own apartment instead of here, wherever ‘here’ was. He studied the surroundings one more time, just in case anything around him did look familiar. He sighed, irritated with himself for even allowing such a ridiculous thought to enter his stressed mind. The very few cities that he had visited before the whole world turned to utter shit wouldn’t have remained in the same pristine state, not after all these years.

  Even so, it would have helped to have known how far they were from the capital. The relative distance between this city and their home could mean the difference to whether they lived or ended up as zombie fodder.

  The forgotten cities closest to the capital had been largely depopulated. The dead things had migrated across the empty land, making their way to the capital’s fortified walls. In the beginning, the border guard had almost been overrun by the countless masses of corpses on more than one occasion.