by Davis, Barry
She swiped her pass card and the door unlocked. As she opened the door she was met by two blows: a karate chop on her arm that forced her to drop the case holding the reverse zombie bombs and a strong jab just below her breastbone that propelled her hard against the wall facing Hamid's door. Mira's head hit the wall and her feet slid out from under her. She expected Major Pritchett to be standing before her but instead it was Rebecca Singler.
"You've been converted," Mira said.
"I have been blessed with the Hidar magic," it replied.
Mira tried to stand but the thing pushed her back to the floor. "I have permission from Ben to see my grandfather."
The creature wagged her finger. "Pritchett told me of your visit. You see, Ben has made me responsible for your grandfather's well being. Whoever forged the note authorizing your visit did not know that no one may see Hamid without my escort."
"Call Mookie," Mira said. Maybe her benefactor would help her again.
"I'll call Ben. I need to tell him that his favorite boy has betrayed him."
"I demand you call him now."
Becky Sings smiled, wagged her finger again. "The dead cannot demand anything. In a few moments you will lie at the bottom of my stomach."
As the creature reached for her, Mira used the element of surprise. Using her residual zombie strength she grabbed both the thing's arms and flipped her small body over her head. Mira scrambled to her feet but the thing was back upright and fast approaching.
Mira ran for the reverse bombs but Becky – faster, stronger – caught her before she could reach them. She again flung Mira into the wall. Her fists flew into Mira's midsection and Mira felt the air leaving her body. She crumpled onto the floor.
The monster knelt in front of her defeated opponent and grasped Mira's face in a strong hand. "Zombie lite?" she said with a laugh. "Is Ben making half zombies now?"
Mira gestured for the case. "It is new tech – makes you half man half zombie," she lied. "He wants me to use it on Hamid."
The zombie punched Mira in the face hard enough that she momentarily lost consciousness. She was awakened to the crazed slaps of the former Becky Sings.
"You lie. Ben has taken care of Hamid. There is no need for any other Hidar magic." She stood, flung the case far down the hallway until it crashed against the wall with a sickening sound.
"You see, I used Hidar magic to make me the girl who crouches before you today. The girl who's gonna dismember and eat you." The creature smiled. "Instead of fresh faced Becky Sings I'm a monster, rejected by my monster lover."
Mira looked at the crazed eyes of the woman. From down the hall she thought she heard the snick of one of the bombs activating but soon the noise was drowned out by the crazed ramblings of the heartbroken dead woman.
"I have you to thank for it. You and him." She thumb pointed toward Hamid's door. "Him I have to protect. You, my dear, will be lunch. I've always wanted to eat another woman."
Two more punches to the face and Mira was losing consciousness. She felt – and fought against – a forceful tug on her arm. Her post zombie strength was almost gone when suddenly she felt the pressure on her arm lessen, and then cease.
Mira looked up and Becky Sings was occupied by hundreds of nanobots. Soon the high tech fleas had the zombie on the floor, working their peculiar form of magic.
Mira recovered as Singler was transformed.
Afterward she gathered her damaged case – it had been cracked open enough for a bomb to deploy and send out its nanobots. She spoke to the transformed Singler – asking her to do what she could to block interference from Pritchett and his men. As Becky Sings slowly walked away Mira turned her attention to Hamid's room.
She pushed her way inside and was shocked – this was not a hospital room but a hotel suite. She stepped into a foyer filled with paintings, statues and other luxurious appointments. She breathed deeply, her lungs filling with a musky scent.
"Grandfather Hamid!" she called out.
The voice came back, soft as a gentle breeze. "Here, granddaughter. Come. Welcome."
She walked deeper into the apartment, stunned by the opulence that surrounded her.
Finally she reached the bedroom and her feet could move no further. All of her was frozen, her mouth a comically wide 'O' shape of shock and wonder.
Her eighty-three year old grandfather lay naked on the bed. Bracketing his body were those of two naked women – female zombie creatures to be exact – one with her hand on her grandfather's aroused sexual organ, the other gently massaging his scrawny shoulder muscles.
The old man took a deep breath, swatted away the hands of his lovers, and sat up. He made no effort to cover his nakedness from his granddaughter.
"I know you have questions," he said. He smiled, his well worn skin straining to hold the wide flexing expression.
"And I also know you have come to kill me."
Tamesha Holloway knew it was not her birthday but she also knew it best to humor her foster parents, the Chins. They were nice people but just a little bit strange to Tamesha. She always figured it was an 'Asian thang'.
That afternoon, speaking to Tamesha outside of a closed bathroom door, she pointedly told Tamesha to remain in her room until she was done with her gifts and came to get her.
That was early afternoon and a bored Tamesha sat in her bedroom as dinnertime approached. Mrs. Chin was apparently still busy downstairs wrapping her presents.
Why would it take four hours to wrap presents?
Mrs. Chin stood in the kitchen whistling her favorite tune, "Call Me Maybe" by Carly Rae Jepsen. Funny, she was not a good whistler before now. Her husband – converted by his wife that morning – handed her Tamesha's final gift. She quickly wrapped it – they were both eager to go upstairs and have more vigorous sex before dinner. Whistling was not the only gift the transformation had given her. An insatiable sex drive was a not too shabby benefit.
She placed the box containing the silver globe atop the one that held Tamesha's first 'big girl' brassieres. They sat in the corner of the kitchen and would be opened after dinner.
Then, Tamesha would not be a foster daughter but a real daughter. She would join the Chin's and the worldwide family of the undead.
Mookie came back in ten minutes as promised and escorted Elias into the aerial Oval Office. Ben Wiley paced behind the massive desk. He acknowledged the pair with a curt nod and they took a seat.
"Some nut has been calling the FBI, Secret Service, the White House and the media with some wild tale. He says that the Cake Boss came to Andrews with some flying cakes and that the cakes dropped miniature robots on everyone. He's pissed because he says he was an all powerful zombie and the bots made him human again."
"What a wild story," said Elias. "Can it be true?"
Wiley looked at Mookie, back to Elias. "We know that it's true. We've been hearing rumors, picking up cell and Internet chatter, about some type of zombie reversing bomb. I have to admit Elias that I have had Mookie and his people following your Mira."
Elias kept his expression and voice even, as would befit a dead man. "Did you find anything?"
"Nothing," Mookie said.
"It was Lee, Manchester Lee," said Wiley. "From onboard we managed to speak to this less than happy former zombie. He said that Lee was there along with the Cake Boss people. The globes came out from the holds of the airplanes overhead. The humans among them were actually transformed to zombie before being reversed back to human. Our friend, like the other zombies we had inserted on the base, was converted to human against his will."
"How did Lee get his hands on our technology?" Elias asked.
Wiley stared at Elias for a few beats too long. "How indeed?" he asked finally. "Whoever created it, it is a magnificent feat of engineering. These nanobots seem to think and are very creative in terms of satisfying their ultimate purpose."
"So, once we get to Hawaii and refuel, we go back home?" Elias asked.
"No, we proceed to China and Russ
ia as planned. Nothing must interfere with our conquest of those people." He laid his hands flat on the desk, drummed his fingers. "First, we need to cleanse our organization, beginning with this airplane." He opened a desk drawer with his right hand, reached inside and placed a stethoscope in the desk. "Our little town crier says that he still looks like a zombie although he is human. His heart beats, his temperature is normal, he farts and sweats. It occurred to us that anyone on board may be a resistance operative, one that is easily identifiable."
"He also disclosed that there is a bomb onboard. That this traitor will use some type of electronic device to remote detonate the bomb. That the Andrews folks were told to place a parachute on board so that this individual could escape."
Elias smiled. "That's why you collected all the devices," he said. "That was quick thinking on your part."
"Indeed," Wiley said.
For Elias Turnbull it was getting very hot in the room. He wiped the sweat that suddenly dampened his brow.
"My, my, Elias, how you sweat for a dead man."
Before Elias could get to his feet, Wiley had leaped over the desk and flew into the smaller man's body, toppling him backward. Wiley had Elias pinned, his post zombie strength no match for Wiley's super sized strength granted him by his magical cohorts. He seized Elias' neck with one hand, felt the wild beating of his heart with the other.
"My, my Elias, how your heart beats so strong, for a dead man."
"Kill me, I don't care. You'll be dead soon."
Wiley smiled. "Do you mean someone plans to harm Hamid?" He laughed and Mookie joined in. "We've fixed good old Hamid. If Lee or anyone else tries to kill Hamid, well, let me just say that's going to take a whole lot of killing."
Wiley lifted Elias to his feet and slammed him against the cabin wall. "We'll find your fellow traitors, Elias, you know that. Do you care to accelerate the process? Perhaps in exchange for Ms. Hidar's life?" He grinned. "Do you think me daft? How could she be one of us when you have been made human? You would have used the reverse bomb on her as your first order of business as you love her."
"You know nothing of love," Elias managed to say.
"Is that a 'no' my friend? You will not help us?"
"Fuck you Ben and your little pet pimp."
"Feisty for a dead man." Wiley turned to Mookie, nodded to the stethoscope. "Take that, find his partners. Start with the pilots. They likely were converted at the Andrews ceremony. I will stay here and play with my 'son' before disposing of him. All of this betrayal is making me hungry."
Mookie nodded and left the room.
Wiley plucked Elias off the wall, lifted him over his head and threw him against the far bulkhead. He then sat behind the desk.
He pulled several huge knives from the desk drawers. He lined the gleaming instruments atop the desk before looking at the stunned body of Elias Turnbull.
"My friend, I'll let you choose. Shall I cut off your leg, arm or balls first?"
Mookie used his key to unlock the cockpit. There were three men inside – he was sure that they were human beings.
Three sets of eyes tracked him warily as he entered their domain.
He was taken aback by the vast sky and ocean spread before him – both in glorious but starkly different shades of blue. His thoughts drifted briefly to the little girl he had rescued in Oakland. Of all the souls he managed to save in his bloody journey, she meant the most to him.
"Sir?" Captain Jackson prodded. Mookie stirred from his brief mental sojourn.
"I am not here to do you harm," he announced. He watched as the three men tensed. "I am well aware of the plan to destroy this aircraft. As Mr. Turnbull is detained I have decided to play his role." He looked at his watch. "You have ninety seconds to make any arrangements you have to in order to save yourselves. The first bomb will detonate then. I'm sure you are aware the second, more powerful charge will explode soon afterwards."
The three stared at him for a few moments before the pilot, Jackson, spoke. "We'll need to put the aircraft on auto pilot," he said. He looked at Mookie. "Why are you helping us?"
Mookie smiled. "Because enough human beings have died," he said. "There will be no more blood. No more on these hands." He turned on his heels and left the cockpit.
"Engage the auto pilot," Jackson ordered and one of the co-pilots flipped a red handle down on the instrument panel. The men began to frantically strap on their parachutes and secure their emergency kit, inflatable and supplies.
By the time the auto pilot handle engaged, Mookie had produced a sat phone. He dialed the number he had memorized. His finger hovered over the 'send' button.
"Balls it is," Wiley said. He stood over top Elias, a wicked carving knife held in his powerful hands. He kicked the prone man in his back, sending Elias writhing on the floor in pain.
"You see, if you were a zombie, you wouldn't have felt that." He laughed.
"Everyone knows you're not a real zombie, Ben. Don't pretend you don't admire us humans. You've gotten yourself fixed."
"I made myself Adam to Jan's Eve."
"You made yourself vulnerable." Elias punched upward and connected with the monster's very human testicles. The beast fell to the ground and Elias scrambled over his body to reach the cabin door. He had grabbed the doorknob when he felt a vise like grip on his ankle.
"Going somewhere?" Wiley asked. He had the knife in his hand and he reared back.
As he swung the blade forward the airplane shook with a violent explosion. The blade went off course and embedded in the bulkhead. As Wiley attempted to retrieve the blade Elias managed to open the door and sprint down the length of the plane, elbowing past shocked and disoriented zombies.
Close on his heels was Wiley holding two knives retrieved from the presidential desk. "Stop him!" he cried but the other zombies were too absorbed by the blast to be any help in arresting Elias' progress.
Elias reached his seat and found the bag with the parachute and inflatable. The bomb had opened a hole in the side of the plane just three rows away. Using the backpack as a weapon he swatted away the suddenly focused and aggressive zombies as he made his way to the opening. There, the pressure instantly sucked him and several of the pursuing zombies out of the aircraft.
Quickly, Mookie was at Wiley's side. He held onto his boss' belt to prevent him from being jettisoned from the airplane.
"Did the pilots trigger the bombs?" Wiley asked. He had to shout given the deafening noise from outside.
"I didn't reach them in time, sir," Mookie responded.
Wiley's eyes stayed on the hole in his aircraft. "I'm going after him. He must die for this."
"Of course, I will be right behind you." He let go of Wiley's belt and the leader of the undead wind-milled out of the airplane.
Mookie ignored the questions and pleas of the surrounding zombies and once again pulled out the sat phone. He dialed another memorized number. "I need to be picked up from these coordinates." He then related the longitude and latitude that he had read off the cockpit instrument panel. "Tell him the plane is going down and Wiley is alive and in pursuit of Turnbull." He clicked off the phone. Pushing past the zombies he retrieved his own parachute and inflatable pack and made it back to the gaping hole.
He grinned back at the zombies then leaped from the airplane. Behind him were the captain and his co-pilots.
Seconds later, a second explosion disintegrated Air Force One in the air. By the time the debris would hit the ocean, nothing larger than a toilet seat would dent the surface.
Elias landed on the calm ocean surface, the parachute canopy collapsing on top of him. He unsnapped the chute tethers and freed himself from all that canvas, swimming underneath to get clear. Treading water on the surface, he removed the backpack. He pulled a ripcord and the pack transformed into a small raft, including a quart of fresh water and a MRE. He didn't know how long he would be on the ocean. The original plan was for him to have the sat phone, which would have made calling for help very simple.
/> Now, he would have to wait for the inevitable search ships and planes. He hoped he wouldn't die from exposure before he was rescued.
In the distance, an amazing distance given that he only jumped out of the plane a few minutes ago, he saw the plane explode. He prayed that Wiley was on that plane. He mourned all the souls that would never live again and, for the millionth time, cursed his own self for agreeing to bring Ben Wiley back from the dead.
What a silly, selfish moment – one that has led to many deaths and placed the entire human race at risk.
He thought again about Mira. He was halfway around the world from her but, in his gut, he felt uneasy. Things were not going right.
Funny, Tamesha thought. No one ate their dinner but me. She was not surprised – one look at her foster parents and she knew. They were monsters. What she struggled with was how she was going to escape this house.
Tamesha's foster parents said that they were not hungry but Tamesha knew otherwise. Zombies like them don't eat….chicken.
And all that noise she had heard coming from their bedroom – she knew what that was. She had seen enough R rated movies to know what that was. They were doing it and they didn't care who heard. Hank was all horny too before she killed him.
She would have to go along with things until she figured out how to get away.
Mrs. Chin cleared the plates and handed Tamesha her first gift. Tamesha un-wrapped the box – it was a large box full of bras. How embarrassing, especially in front of a suddenly leering Mr. Chin.
She took the other gift in hand. She shook it – she felt relief as it didn't sound like a box full of panties. She quickly pulled off the paper and looked inside. It contained a silver globe.