Dead Man Running

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Dead Man Running Page 26

by Davis, Barry


  Obama broke into Wiley's reverie. "Ben, the reason we asked you here is that, with Joe's sudden withdrawal, we have an opening on the ticket."

  "Yes, Mr. President," Wiley said. He smiled mildly, Mr. Innocent.

  "I would like you to fill that opening. I think you would be a terrific Vice President."

  Axelrod broke in at this point, not letting Wiley respond. "I know what you're thinking, Ben."

  No, he didn't.

  "You're thinking would it be best to wait four years when you would be at the top of the ticket?" He paused, and then continued when Wiley said nothing.

  "The numbers all indicate that with you on the ticket, the president easily wins the swing states and cake walks to two seventy. You will be this nation's next VP, Ben. From that platform, you can implement many of your initiatives, which will set you up as the obvious choice for your party and your nation in 2016."

  Obama broke in then, selling goods to a man who already had the items in his shopping cart. "We envision, Ben, a task force on the deficit and another on making government leaner and more efficient. I'll name you chairman of both."

  "You have strong support among the Tea Party kooks, Ben. You alone can bring them to the table with this administration. You alone can broker a deal that establishes the fiscal and governmental destiny of this great nation in the twenty-first century," said Axelrod.

  Obama leaned toward Wiley. He narrowed his eyes, as if he was having a hard time reading a street sign or the fine print in a contract. "Will you do it Ben? Will you be my running mate?"

  Wiley waited a couple of beats. It gave him pleasure making the leader of the free world and his white lapdog squirm. He didn't realize before he walked into the room how much they feared being defeated in the fall.

  Wiley smiled. "Gentlemen, I have never shirked my duty as an American and I will not do so today." He stared into Obama's brown eyes. "I will be happy to campaign as your running mate, Mr. President. Once we win I will be a loyal soldier in your war to fight waste and reduce the size of government." Wiley stood and the two men followed his lead. There were smiles, handshakes and back slaps.

  They then transitioned into campaign strategy. They would concentrate Wiley in the red and swing states. Perhaps he could shift a few states from red to blue? If so, it would give Obama the right to use terms like 'landslide' and 'mandate', more the better to push his agenda.

  After being promised time with Obama on the basketball court or golf course – where the man seemed to spend most of his time when not fighting with Republicans – Wiley was shown the door.

  Obama went back behind his desk and Axelrod took a seat in front.

  "What do you think?" asked Axelrod.

  "I think we use him as long as he is useful," Obama replied.

  "How long will that be?"

  "Sunday, January 20, 2013," the president replied and they shared a laugh.

  "How do we do it – get rid of him? I sense the man's like a cockroach – tough to exterminate."

  The grin left the president's face. "Oh, I don't know David. I think a man like Ben Wiley will create his own exit."

  Axelrod thought of a rejoinder but decided not to pursue the conversation. The president knew something he did not. He knew not to push. As always, he would trust that Obama had everything in order and under his steady, Cool Hand Luke control. He thanked the president, stood and left the man to his work. He thought no more about Ben Wiley in the long term. His thoughts focused on Wiley the candidate and the bonanza he was for the ticket.

  He realized during the limo ride back to his home that the challenge now becomes how to keep the 2012 rock star Wiley from overshadowing 2008's rock star, the sitting president.

  Several days later, during her free eighth period, Athens Georgia middle schooler Alisette Morrow decided to get a head start on her Social Studies homework. Her assignment was to make a persuasive argument for why Ben Wiley was the best choice to replace Joe Biden on the Democratic presidential ticket.

  Alisette made her way to the school computer lab. Her teacher, Mr. Walton, suggested that the students review President Obama's speech announcing his choice of Wiley as well as Wiley's appearance the following day on 'Meet the Press'.

  Alisette typed in 'president wiley announcement' into the search engine and several news articles appeared. She read a couple then printed them. She collected the articles from the shared printer near the center of the room and placed them on top of her book bag.

  She then entered 'wiley meet the press' and several items appeared. She clicked on the first, which took her to the Meet the Press website. Her finger hovered over the video of the interview but she was reluctant to click it. The Athens school district had very little money to spend, especially on something as unimportant as Internet connection speed. As a result the computer lab's desktops did little better than dialup. She instead selected the 'transcript' option and the transcript of the Wiley interview filled the screen. She sent the pages to the printer. Obviously there was no lack of money in the budget for paper or toner.

  After collecting the pages she sat down and began reading in the ten minutes she had before her bus arrived.

  June 10, 2012

  David Gregory: We begin our program today talking with HUD Secretary Ben Wiley. Secretary Wiley, welcome to Meet the Press.

  Ben Wiley: Thank you, David. It is my great pleasure to be here.

  Gregory: For those few viewers who are unaware, Mr. Wiley was named by President Obama yesterday in a Rose Garden ceremony to replace Joe Biden on the Democratic ticket as vice presidential candidate. Joe Biden decided not to run for office and instead to spend more time with his family.

  Wiley: I wish Joe Godspeed and all the best.

  Gregory: I think we all do, Mr. Secretary. I was struck by the number of prominent Democrats attending the ceremony, sir. This after hearing how the more liberal rank and file is not in favor of your candidacy.

  Wiley: (Laughs) I think we had to remind them that I was among the most liberal in Congress for two decades. That, in essence, I'm one of them.

  Gregory: But you are no longer and that's the rub, correct? You have turned your back on American Liberalism.

  Wiley: David, I have served Harlem for twenty years. I thought and my liberal friends thought that we could tax and spend our way out of our problems. I believed that the residents of my district just needed one more program – that magic bullet of programs – to make their lives better. And do you know what? After twenty years, their lives were no better.

  Gregory: That's red meat to the liberals, Mr. Secretary.

  Wiley: It shouldn't be. Liberalism in its purest form has failed. So has conservatism, frankly. I realize now that there is a third path: helping our fellow citizens help themselves with a smaller, more efficient government focused on the things that prevent people from fulfilling their true potential.

  Gregory: I saw Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid at the Rose Garden ceremony. Do you think they buy into those words?

  Wiley: It doesn't matter. We're broke, David. There is no more money – we have to find a different way to care for our fellow man while caring for the long term survival of the government, and our nation.

  Gregory: (Laughs) I think the president did a lot of arm twisting to get the liberals on board.

  Wiley: (Laughs) Perhaps a little.

  Gregory: You mentioned your time in Congress. How did this transition take place, from liberal firebrand to budget hawk?

  Wiley: My transformation, as you call it, took place over time. Every time I looked into a hungry child's eyes, I knew that I was a failure and that I had to find the truer path.

  Gregory: The rumor was that you were about to be nominated as the Tea Party candidate for president?

  Wiley: I can't speak to any rumors. What the Tea Party wants is good government and I've made that my life's mission. I want nothing less than to transform the American government and its citizens. There is a lot of overlap with Tea Party
philosophy.

  Gregory: You said 'transform American citizens'. What do you mean by that?

  Wiley: I want to make the American people free: free from an overbearing, overreaching government that regulates every facet of their lives. To transform them into creatures of freedom and justice. All equal and empowered to fulfill their destinies.

  Gregory: Pretty powerful stuff, Mr. Secretary. Can you do that? In four years as VP and perhaps eight more as president?

  Wiley: (Smiles) There is no limit to what a strong and moral man can do. Ultimately, with the help of the American people and the Almighty, there is nothing we can't do.

  The school bell rang, signally that the buses would leave in five minutes. Alisette grabbed the printouts and stuffed the pages into her bag. She would read the rest at home.

  As she walked outside to her bus she considered the central question of her assignment. Why was Wiley the best choice?

  Her pastor – Pastor Beeman from Calvary Baptist – flashed in her mind as she pondered her answer.

  Because Ben Wiley is God, was her answer. He was nothing short of Jesus or, better yet, Moses. He was leading America out of the wilderness of waste, on to the promised land of fiscal sanity and individual freedom.

  In one week she would hold her graded paper: she received an 'A +'. Her teacher felt that 'Alisette had captured brilliantly the cynicism and manipulative nature of Wiley, qualities which, in the cesspool of modern politics, make him the ideal candidate'.

  She stuffed the paper in her desk and barely paid attention to the ultra liberal Mr. Walton. She dreamed that one day she would meet Ben Wiley. In her conservative Christian heart she knew that they were soul mates and she anticipated the day when she could tell him so.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  WEST PHILADELPHIA – JULY 2012

  Asparagus. That was what was on Mira Hidar's mind as she shopped in a small west Philly grocery near the Penn campus. She wanted roasted asparagus spears to go with the braised lemon chicken breasts she planned to prepare for her dinner.

  In the produce section she examined the asparagus. The vegetables were all fresh so it was not difficult to select a decent bunch. She flipped the asparagus into a small plastic bag and tied off the top with a twist tie. She was ready to leave the store, her after work shopping complete.

  She was ready to go 'home' to her empty apartment. She had no friends in Philly and her family knew to stay away. She had forbidden even phone calls. She wanted no more Hidar's hitting Ben Wiley's radar.

  More hurtfully, she had not heard from Elias Turnbull in nearly a month. She missed him but her conscious mind still worked hard to convince the inner Mira that she missed him as a partner in this effort to stop Wiley. She knew he was alive – he made the papers often in his role as congressman. He had just chosen – for some reason – to have nothing to do with her.

  Mira looked up from her cart as she simultaneously pushed it forward. After a few steps she stopped the cart. A strange figure had emerged from an aisle to block her path.

  He was tall, very thin, with blond hair and pale blue eyes devoid of humor. He was dressed in a suit and tie but carried a basket with few items – bread, peanut butter, and Newman's Own salad dressing. By all appearances a bachelor on his way home to a lonely meal.

  What distinguished the man, and set alarm bells ringing in Mira's head, was the man's skin. It was very pale, and splotchy in spots. He graced Mira with a smile and she could see his darkened gums and ill fitted false teeth.

  Her heart beat like a hammer and she plotted the best escape route. She was ten feet away from the creature – surely she could recognize a zombie – when it spoke.

  "My name is Manchester Lee, Ms. Hidar. I think we need to talk."

  Of course she recognized the name. She slowly pushed the cart back to where he stood.

  He smiled again. "Not here," it said. "Go to Clark Park at seven and we'll talk." The monster walked away. Mira kept her eyes on him as he made his way out of the store.

  Before crossing the threshold out of the store 'he' sat the hand cart next to the doorway, acknowledging that it would not be eating those goods – what he truly ate could not be purchased in a market like this.

  Mira knew where Clark Park was – it was not far from her apartment. She would come prepared – she would not become part of this zombie's menu.

  Mira Hidar found a bench far from the rowdy basketball courts at Clark Park. She was near the slides and monkey bars but only one child enjoyed the battered equipment. Opposite Mira the child's behemoth mother held a phone to her ear and an expression of disgust on her massive face. The phone appeared as a toy in her large dark hands, the communication device waving around the woman's ear as its owner comically bobbed her head while relating a wildly animated description of the shortcomings of "that motherfucking Kenny".

  The reanimated critter who had introduced himself as Manchester Lee shambled down the pathway toward Mira. Mother did not notice but her son did. He somehow froze halfway down the plastic sliding board and eyed the untidy former human being. Manchester grinned in as non-threatening a manner as a zombie is capable and the boy child waved and smiled back. He completed his slide, pounded his small feet into the soil sand mixture and ran screeching to the monkey bars.

  Manchester Lee took a seat next to Mira. The grin that he had presented to the boy faded. He looked tired, defeated. There was no preamble.

  "Elias has been turned," he said.

  Mira felt gut punched although she knew it was coming. She had felt it, felt the lost of him, a presence drifting out to sea never to be heard from again. She felt love for him, now that it was safe to love such as him, after he was gone.

  "Tell me your story," she replied. He leaned back, crossed one leg over the other with significant effort, and spoke.

  "Wiley had no interest in converting me to an undead. I was more valuable as a warning to my confederates in New Orleans and elsewhere. My friend Elias was assigned to escort my body to the Big Easy and dump it in the most conspicuous possible location. He murdered me himself."

  "But your friends brought you back?"

  Lee nodded. "The Hidar's aren't the only ones capable of creating a high functioning zombie," he replied.

  "Someone did an excellent job." She smiled. It was really a crap job but she wanted to encourage the poor soul. "What is the status of the resistance?"

  "In disarray. Many members have been killed, eaten, converted or gone into hiding. I would say that the bulk of the resistance is seated on this filthy park bench."

  Mira smiled. The sadness about Elias left her, replaced by resolve. She straightened her back and moved closer to the zombie. "I'm travelling to the south Pacific next week to field test Wiley's so called atomic zombie bomb."

  "Can you scuttle the test?"

  "I don't want to," she replied.

  He looked her over. "Are you sure you haven't been converted?" With effort he arranged his face into a smile.

  "I want things to proceed. I have developed a bomb of my own, one that can reverse the zombie process, make them human again. When the time is right, when Wiley goes to deploy his zombie bomb, we replace his bombs with my own. We change the mission of his bombs so that instead of converting new zombies they cure the existing ones."

  "You've tested your bomb? It works?"

  "Yes and it does."

  "How do you plan to substitute your bombs for his?"

  "By selectively and quietly making key Wiley personnel human again. I will begin with Elias, once he finds me."

  "You think he's coming for you?"

  "I know he will be. He knows what I've been doing. I'm sure he's told Wiley and Wiley probably told him to kill me once the zombie 'A' bomb proves operational."

  Lee nodded and they sat on the bench watching the gargantuan woman and her child.

  "You know we must kill your grandfather?"

  Mira looked into the creature's eyes. "I've known that. It is the only sure way to stop
Wiley, given the humanizing spells already applied to him. I'll handle that."

  "And Mrs. Wiley – her baby cannot be born."

  "That task I'll leave to you." She stood.

  "Good luck with the trial and Elias," Lee said.

  She brushed her pants, looked at Lee. "I will kill one hundred and seventy thousand islanders with Wiley's bomb. The luck I'll need later when I try to bring them back," she said and she walked away.

  "At least they have hope of being brought back," mumbled Manchester Lee as he sat on the bench. He stayed there enjoying the boy's energetic playfulness. He watched for several minutes until finally he felt the tug of his responsibilities. He stood awkwardly, made no attempt to brush the dirt off his clothes and marched off to plan two murders.

  Zombie Elias Turnbull met his leader outside the teeming livestock pen. They were on the rolling green hills of an upstate New York dairy farm. The 'stock' consisted not of cows, but of humans. Their shouts and cries were deafening, their stench more so. They pressed naked bodies against the barbwire topped fence. Some recognized him and shouted his name. Cynically, he offered a campaign wave and a plastic smile.

  Elias took a deep breath as he extended his hand to greet his boss. How he loved the smell of livestock in the early morning. His stomach growled, its anticipation of a meal rising.

  "I wanted to speak to you before the board meeting, Elias," Wiley said over the din. He had to shout to be heard.

  Wiley and his fifty worldwide leaders had come to this dairy farm to plot the end of human domination of planet Earth. On the agenda today was a meeting of the zombie board, regional leaders from each of the six zones.

  Even the humans with their tongues removed were making noise by tugging on the fence.

  Some human, despondent over their circumstances and immediate prospects as food, were committing suicide by swallowing their tongues. If not found immediately, their meat would spoil, making an unpleasant meal for most discriminating zombies. To forestall this possibility Wiley's team had begun to remove tongues as the humans were interred.

 

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