Death Plague [Four Zombie Novels]

by Ian Woodhead

  Daniel shrugged off his hand. “What am I supposed to be looking at?” He moved closer to the cupboard. “There’s nothing out of place, it’s just like I always remembered it. Mom’s well stocked cupboard, overflowing with goodies, strikes again.”

  His reaction to the obvious abnormality here reinforced Mortimer’s theory that this really was only a digital representation of his brother. He silently sighed; but then again, maybe not. Daniel had never been that great at picking out the obvious. He lifted out a large square tin. “Nothing out of place, you say? Have you any idea what sliced beef is? It’s from a cow. Come on, who the fuck eats cow meat?”

  “What are you talking about, Mortimer? That’s your favorite food.”

  “Oh is it? Well how come I don’t know this?” Mortimer dropped the tin and jerked his head towards the ceiling. “Did you hear that?” he hissed.

  His brother nodded. “Yeah, we’re not alone in here.” Daniel grinned. “Come on, let’s go explore.” He hurried over to the door. “Look on the bright side. If it is a bunch of zombies upstairs and they do snack on us, at least we’ll end up back on our couch.”

  Mortimer shook his head, wondering if he could take out his brother with a couple of well-placed cow meat tins. He followed Daniel up the stairs, despairing at the fact that he was making no attempt at being stealthy. “You’re only saying that because you miss your Legos, you big girl,” he whispered.

  Daniel chuckled. “I have a box of the stuff under my bed. It’s a win/win situation for me, Mortimer.”

  They both reached the landing. Mortimer sneaked over to the bedroom directly above the kitchen. He glanced at his empty hands and quietly cursed. Why didn’t he pick up a knife while he was in the kitchen? If there were any dead things in there, he and his brother wouldn’t stand a chance. It was too late to go back now; besides, he’d already been in here once, the last time, and he hadn’t found any zombies. Mortimer stopped at the doorframe. Could dead things climb stairs in this world?

  “Screw it,” he snarled, walking into the room.

  “It’s just like I remember,” said Daniel, looking over his shoulder.

  “How can you say that when we both know that this is supposed to be your room? All this gear belongs to Martin.”

  “Don’t blame Daniel, Mortimer. It isn’t his fault.”

  “How the fuck did you get up here?” Mortimer blinked.

  Joseph smiled back at him and leaned back, resting the back of his head on the wallpaper. “I wasn’t sure if you’d both leave without exploring the house.” He idly entwined his fingers in the dark blue quilt cover. “I’m glad I stayed now. Come on in, it’s okay. After all, it is your house.”

  “You haven’t answered the question,” said Daniel. “How did you get up here without us seeing you?”

  Mortimer sighed. “It’s another Joseph, you idiot. Wait, how can this be our house?” He flicked his eyes at Daniel. “I mean, if we really are here, then doesn’t this house belong to the corpse lying on the cellar floor?”

  “The other one that looks like me is here too, I can feel him.” Joseph clenched his fist. “How is he doing?”

  Those eyes lost their familiar calmness, and iced-blue chips of diamond stared back at him. They were the eyes of someone who detested his other self. It took a lot of restraint for Mortimer not to ask how this Joseph could even know the Joseph from their world. “He’s out cold,” replied Mortimer.”

  “Yeah, I figured that would be the case. This will be the first time he’s been brave enough to bring all of him over, instead of his diseased mind.” He stood up and walked over to the two men. “Guys, I’m sorry to break this to you, but this really is your home. You both belong here, in this world.”

  Those cold eyes filled with warmth as Joseph delivered that earth-shattering news. It was clear the man believed his own words. “I don’t believe you,” Mortimer said, slowly. Even as the words left his mouth, Mortimer saw himself standing in this bedroom and looking through the crack in the curtains as the mobile euthanasia vans rolled past his house. He screwed up his eyes, wanting to block out the torrent of old images flooding into his mind.

  Mortimer opened his eyes. He looked at his brother and then at Joseph, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He now remembered the terror he felt at seeing his neighbors all dying from the flu, of watching his mother being pushed into the back of the van, and Homeland Security aiming their assault rifles at Martin when he tried to stop them.

  “How much do you remember?” Joseph asked almost kindly.

  “Just fragments,” he whispered.

  “The flu virus almost wiped out our species. Despite all the horrors, we managed to keep going, to rebuild, and even started to repopulate. None of us believed it could get any worse.” Joseph laughed harshly. “Oh, how naïve were we? We weren’t the only ones who’d suffered an event of apocalyptic proportions.”

  Mortimer nodded. His mind had started to settle down. His brother squeezed his shoulder.

  “You OK?”

  Mortimer nodded, slowly. “How about you?”

  He shrugged, “It all came back, Mortimer, all my real memories are back in place.”

  “What happened?” Daniel said, looking at Joseph. “I mean, what really happened, that part still isn’t clear.”

  “As far as we know, there are three worlds, each one linked. The one named Source World was just like ours. By that, I mean normal, I suppose. Just like us though, they suffered a catastrophe. The dead rose up and ate through the surviving population like a starving fox in a henhouse. No matter what they tried, their shrinking population couldn’t stop this vile plague. They should have all perished.”

  Joseph’s face crumpled up. “They would have all ended up dead if it hadn’t been for one man who saw a way out.” He shrugged. “The man was another version of me, another Joseph. He figured out a way to cross into other worlds, looking for other versions of you and your brothers. He knew that your blood held the key to a possible vaccine.”

  “He didn’t visit this world first, did he?”

  Joseph shook his head. “They couldn’t. This world and theirs are not directly connected. There’s another world that acts as a bridge. You know as well as I how twisted that place is.”

  “Look out!”

  Joseph swung around. Daniel’s warning saved his life as Joseph’s other self lunged for him, screaming while holding a large kitchen knife in his hand. Joseph dropped to the floor and rolled over to the window.

  Mortimer rushed up to the screaming man, wrapped his large arms around the man’s chest and squeezed tight. He shook him until the knife fell on to the carpet. As soon as his brother scooped up the blade, he released the man and violently pushed him forward. “Stop that, right now.” The other Joseph spun around and glared at them. Apart from their identical faces, there was nothing that connected them. This wild-eyed maniac, with his stinking, ripped, and filthy clothes looked more suited to life lining up outside a medi-center on that other world.

  “It’s all lies,” spat Joseph. “Everything he’s told you is utter crap.” He stood up and attempted to brush the grime off his clothes. “I look disgusting.” He shook his head. “He’s distorting everything, Mortimer. Come on, you know me.”

  The other Joseph got to his feet. “You just came at me with a knife, my friend. Does that sound like the actions of a man who’s in command of his wits? Joseph, our other self came to you from Source World, begging for your help.” He looked across at Mortimer. “There was a sickness in their world long before the death virus spread through their cities. The Joseph that came through that gate didn’t spread either.”

  He pointed at the other Joseph. “They did that. You see, the fuckers had already tortured the information out of our other Joseph and found out about the possible cure in your blood. They had all three of your other selves connected to drips and had already devised an inhibitor. All they needed now was to wipe out their local opposition.”

  The other
Joseph screamed out and ran towards Daniel. He wrapped his fingers in his hair and slammed the back of the lad’s head into the wall behind him before racing out of the door.

  Mortimer ran over to his brother, sobbing at the sight of the huge pool of blood spreading out from under him. “No, this isn’t supposed to happen!” He gently stroked his cheeks, knowing he was dead. He lifted his head and stared at the stricken Joseph, his face wet with tears as well. “Please, tell me I was right and he was wrong. This really is a game and Daniel’s woken up to play with his Legos?”

  Joseph dropped to his knees and placed his arm over Mortimer’s shoulder. “Oh God, I’m so sorry about this,” he cried. “I shouldn’t have tried to be so clever. I should have secured him when you arrived.”

  He ran over to the bed and ripped off the cover and gently laid it over Daniel.

  “Why don’t I feel anything, Joseph? There’s nothing inside me, nothing at all.” Mortimer twisted around. “What is wrong with me?”

  “There’s nothing the matter, Mortimer. Believe me, the fact that you’re questioning your apparent lack of emotions shows that you’re more balanced than most people. Just look around you, look at where you come from, hell on every world, there’s death everywhere you look. We’re all anesthetized to it.” He wrapped his arms around Mortimer’s shoulders. “We had better get a move on, young man. There’s still an incredible amount of work left for us to do.”

  “What about the other Joseph?” Mortimer felt his rage rising. He liked how it felt, even if it was anger, any emotion was better than feeling dead inside. “I want to kill the bastard.” He strained his neck, trying to see any sign of him through the window. He saw nothing. Had he expected the bastard to hang around outside, waving at them from the end of the garden? He’d be long gone by now. “Tell me how we ended up back here, Joseph.” Right now, he couldn’t care less but he though the sound of Joseph’s voice would help mute the screams detonating in his head.

  “There are invisible lines that connect us to our alternate selves. When we shift from each world, we invariably end up close to each other. When the first Joseph shifted for the first time, he appeared in his other self’s laboratory. We’re all very good at comprehending the science, you know. I believe that if the first Joseph hadn’t constructed the device then one of us would have sooner or later.”

  “You wish he had come here first?”

  Joseph nodded. “It isn’t physically possible but yeah, I do. Together we would have solved both of our problems. That other Joseph and his other citystate founders unleashed the virus on their enemies, having no idea of the repercussions. Thinking they could sit back and watch the other citiystates perish. They died alright, and the corpses then converged on their city, the last remaining source of food on their blighted planet. Hard to believe that those fools didn’t think this would happen.”

  “Jesus,” Mortimer muttered. “So they almost annihilated their own species?”

  “I wish they had, then they wouldn’t have found us. They invaded our world, stole you three, and unleashed the virus. Our growing population was reduced to almost nothing. They then enslaved the survivors and put us to work in the food factories.”

  Joseph walked to the door. “I really am sorry about your brother.”

  Mortimer closed his eyes, still not sure why he wasn’t grieving. He kept gazing at the shape of his brother’s body under that cover, expecting him to start moving at any minute. “So what do we do now?”

  “It’s simple. I want to close the bridge between here and the other world for good, but I still want to keep in contact with the Source World. I believe we can still cure this death plague. I just want the other world to be isolated so they can finish what they started and kill themselves off.”

  “You said it was impossible though.”

  “Not if we find another bridge.” The man placed both his hand gently on Mortimer’s shoulders. “Come, let me introduce you to my friends, although I think you’ll have already met them once.” He took him to the bedroom door and descended the stairs. Mortimer took one look at the cover before following Joseph.

  His mind still overflowed with a thousand unanswered questions, but before Mortimer could even spurt out the first one, Joseph had already left the house. He rushed after him and found a crowd of people standing on the sidewalk. Joseph had been right. There were a few standing amongst them that he remembered from before. Unlike that time, Mortimer saw no hostility in their faces. He discreetly scanned their arms to see if he could find the body that he’d been inside.

  He turned away. Why was he even thinking about that? He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the blazing sun, feeling the warm rays massage his skin. The scent of flowers filled the air. Mortimer had forgotten the smell of the great outdoors. In the city, the stink of death coated everything, sometimes so strong you could taste it. Inside wasn’t much better; the air conditioning erased the stench of death but left a sterile environment.

  “My brother should be buried here. He would have liked that. We can’t leave him to rot like the other bodies in that cellar.” Mortimer snapped open his eyes and sought out Joseph. He found him standing at the back. “Wait, why are those poor people still down there?”

  “We weren’t allowed to touch them. We were – in a way still are – slaves to the masters of the city. The only reason why they are not here now is because they have other concern, and unless we find a way to stop them, they will be back. This time I suspect they’ll kill us all, especially since the other me is nowhere to be found.” Joseph looked grimly about.

  Mortimer saw that they were all staring at him.

  “At least we don’t need their tablets,” said Joseph, smiling at him. “Not now we have you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Their brief forced march came to an abrupt end when it felt as though the contents of his ribcage wanted to escape. Kenny knew that they were about to shift one more time. He refused to allow the unpleasant experience to distract him. This would be their only chance to get away. He could tell by the way his sister acted that she knew their location was about to alter as well. Kenny clenched his stomach muscles the best he could and prepared himself, praying that they wouldn’t land in the middle of a zombie horde.

  By their captors’ reactions, though, the goons didn’t have a single idea what they were experiencing.

  “Oh fuck, they’ve poisoned us!” gasped the huge blonde-haired youth who had secured Kenny’s arms behind his back. “Oh, this really hurts.” He leaned forward. “What have you done to us?” he demanded, spitting in Kenny’s ear.

  Kenny kept quiet and suppressed a triumphant grin, dropping his mouth in awe as the fake landscape surrounding the five of them blurred out of existence. The three men cried out, their voices lost in the swirling vortex. Kenny felt the grip on his arms loosen. He fell down, feeling his mind slip as well when he saw there was no ground beneath his body. Kenny forced his head up, and through the kaleidoscope of swirling primary colors, he saw that Diane had not moved, yet her captor crouched behind her, crunched up into a tight ball.

  He jumped to his feet, ran over to Diane and slipped his fingers into her limp hand. “We don’t have much time,” he whispered, starting as his voice sounded like it was coming from behind him. He shut his mouth, not daring to speak again. The vivid hues were losing their intensity.

  Kenny pulled her away from the three guards, knowing that it wouldn’t take them more than a couple of seconds for their collective limited intelligences to decide that losing their prisoners would be more harmful to their health than stepping into another world.

  The ground beneath his feet lost its spongy texture and solidified into rough rock. Kenny steadied his sister when she almost lost her balance. He turned to see the others had already regained their composure and sighed; he’d hoped for a few more seconds to get away from them.

  “Where are we now?”

  His gut feeling told him that they were back in the w
orld where they’d last escaped from. The air smelled the same, and although they were now inside what appeared to be a cave, Kenny believed that they weren’t that far from that underground structure. He had no idea how he could even know this. Then again, considering what he and Diane had been through in the past few hours, he decided not to even bother looking for explanations anymore.

  “We’re away from the goons,” he whispered. Kenny looked beyond her shoulder, just to check that they really were alone. “Right now, that’s all that matters.” He took her hand. “Let’s go see where this takes us, and keep your eyes peeled for those guards.”

  “What’s so funny?” hissed Diane.

  Kenny put his hands up and traced the beaming smile plastered across his face with his forefinger. He extended his arms and placed them flat against the walls of the harrow passageway and turned around. His sister’s face, contorted into worry, gazed back at him. “I’m not laughing, hun,” he replied. How could he even explain his mood to her? That, from out of nowhere this torrent of positive feelings had just soaked into his body, like a dry sponge dropped into a bucket of warm water?

  “Come on, Diane. You of all people know how shitty my life has been recently. Just the fact that I’m still alive is a major fucking miracle.” He held his hand in front of his face, noting that his fingers now glowed. At least he had found out how they could see down here: the walls were covered in this stuff. “Diane, I’m cured. I’ll never have to have any more of that vile stuff in my body again.”

  “And you can stop other people from turning into monsters.”

  He nodded excitedly. “Exactly!”

  “And yet, instead of being treated as heroes, here we are, running for our lives.”

  “No shock there. They don’t know what I can do.”

  “How much do you want to wager? You cured that man in front of a television camera, I bet half the capital saw it.”