Undead War (Dead Guns Press)

by Thompson, John

  Though her face was clean, her latex trousers, blue bandana and new Adidas trainers were still heavily stained with fresh blood. She hoped to go scuba diving this weekend. Stoned scuba diving…the only way!

  In the middle of the road a young, dark-haired, olive-skinned woman, naked but for a pair of orangey-red bikini briefs, lay there. One of her tiny breasts hung in bloody tatters, and further bites had been taken from her left arm and her abdomen.

  Not that the sight of others’ injuries seemed to faze her, or worry her, or even slow her down in the slightest. Ant came at them like a lunatic fan at a rock gig…that had broken through the barriers. Except with her she had a look that was not adulation but a murderous, ravenous rage, and her screams were not an expression of exited hysteria but a primal, anguished growl.

  She picked off each zombie with ease and was now close to the prize at the end. One zombie’s head was teetering, or falling off at the neck, and it was Ant’s reaction to batter it and sever its head with one blow, but unluckily she misjudged slightly and the hammer hit it just below the nose, bisecting its crooked face. Blood spurted up with such force that it splashed the underside of her chin and trickled down her neck. She swore as the hammer jammed in its face, almost overbalancing her. As this fallen zombie’s clutching hand grabbed and tightened around Ant’s ankle, she glided forward with ruthless efficiency and crushed its head into a crumbling fragmentation, pummelling its body with her weapon.

  ‘Fuck it,’ she grunted, yanking and twisting the weapon free from the caved in zombie’s mangled face. And a further blow severed the head from the spine completely.

  Doggedly, and breathing heavily with exhaustion, she straightened proudly and approached the betting-people. The Greek greeted her like his favourite daughter.

  ‘You did good, baby,’ he cried, holding out the plastic carrier bag containing the heroin. ‘For a moment we thought those bastards had you cornered…but no, not my sweet little Andrea, eh, eh?’

  She protested, ‘I don’t understand why the rules say you’re only allowed to use a fucking useless hammer. I’m killing zombies – not boarding up a fence!’ But upon these words her mood changed and she smiled, as she reached into her crotch to extract a revolver. ‘…So I thought I’d bring my little friend to add that extra feminine touch to proceedings.’

  The two men’s eyes widened severely and they automatically assumed, and quite rightly, it was game over…for both this pair, and also for this latest illegal betting scheme.

  Ant firmly dispatched the Fat Man before the Greek and fired three rounds into both. The pair went down like shit in a pillow and when she stepped over the deceased, she walked around to the driver’s side of the red sparkling Porsche and climbed inside.

  ‘Shit happens,’ she relished saying. It was a saying she loved, because it was so true.

  …Money, drugs and a crate of booze…enough to be getting on with, for the time being.

  ‘Rock on,’ she said, and nudged the throttle. She would head for the beach now…where the parties happened…and being the party girl that she was she put the Porsche into top gear and sped away into the bright blue yonder. She said as she went, ‘Tonight I party like Hell has frozen over!’ Away, in search of a high and booze buzz…and a night so crazy it would bring a vast and unceasing amount of hard shagging…

  XMB3

  Essel Pratt

  Midnight’s hush resonated throughout the barren radio station’s corridors. Emergency lights provided a faint glow, illuminating the labyrinth of hallways that intertwined throughout the aged building. Only the pungent stench of burnt coffee hinted at human occupancy. Other than the occasional guest and incessant flood of callers that claimed to have witnessed odd and macabre dealings, the nightlife was pretty lonely. Thus is the extravagant life of a late night radio host. Surrounded by solitude, yet kept company by conspiracy theorists, paranormal witnesses, and an occasional treat of the undiagnosed, but clinically insane.

  The pressure to keeps topics new and exciting was a constant battle for Mystical Mindy, host of the Dead Hour. Her show was the top rated late night broadcast in the greater Michiana area, drawing in hoards of traditional listeners from the region, as well as a multitude of enthusiasts via the internet. A large portion of her show was open to the unique views of her dedicated fans, yet the first hour was reserved for guests and current unexplained events. Many times she inserted a cue of supernatural into the news items of the day, in an effort to tickle the imagination of the listeners and subliminally clue them into the topics she wished to discuss that evening. Many of the second through third hour conversations tied in so seamlessly that the last two-thirds of the show practically scripted itself.

  Mindy put the finishing touches on her notes as the front door buzzer screeched, announcing the arrival of her guest. Her soft footsteps echoed within the halls as she greeted Mr. Sievers at the door.

  “Good evening, Mr. Sievers”, said Mindy.

  “Please, call me Jacob”, he said.

  “Okay, Jacob. Follow me; we go on air in ten minutes. I cannot wait to hear your plan to clean up the city, if elected mayor, as well as your thoughts on the new mind altering drug

  that seems to be popping up in small towns like ours.”

  Before entering the soundproof room, both Mindy and Jacob poured a cup of coffee, Mindy’s being more sugar and cream than actual coffee, and chatted about their goals for the conversation. Jacob chose to brave the bitterness as he opted to drink his coffee black.

  Usually Mindy’s guests were interviewed over the phone; a live guest was a rare and much appreciated treat, especially when the topics are so close to home. Announcement of Jacob’s appearance had drawn not only local attention, but national attention as well from the many internet listeners that frequent her show.

  The two entered the studio, the door slamming behind them as the closing mechanism signaled that it needed adjusting. The dark hallway outside was illuminated by the rose glow of the on air light above the door. Speakers throughout the building softly resonated as the soothing sound of Hotel California’s interlude provided the intro for the show. Just before the vocals erupted, Mindy’s voice teased the audience as the music faded in the background.

  “Welcome fellow night owls, insomniacs, and blood thirsty alien visitors. This is Mystical Mindy, and you are listening to Dead Hour.” Her tone was soft and seductive. “Before we take your calls, we have a very special guest in the studio. He is an award winning Chemistry teacher at Michiana High School and has also thrown in his hat to take part in the upcoming mayoral race. Please welcome our esteemed guest, Mr. Jacob Sievers.”

  The ghoulish roar of monstrous cheers flooded the background of the broadcast as Mindy engaged a button on the massive soundboard before her. She allowed it to play for two full seconds before continuing.

  “Thank you for the wonderful introduction, I am glad to be here.” Jacob was a confident man. He sat straight in his chair as rubbed his beard as he scooted closer to the microphone.

  “Mr. Sievers, I mean Jacob, has undoubtedly made an impression on many of our lives as during our school careers, but now that he has decided to run for mayor he plans on

  making his imprint on our beloved city. His platform is based on cleaning up our troubled streets, as well bringing a wealth of knowledge about the new recreational drug known as XMB3 in the scientific community, or Brain Drain on the streets. Jacob, I know we want to focus on your mayoral campaign, but I wanted to start with XMB3. What exactly is this horrible concoction and how is it affecting the users?” Mindy knew that her listeners were more intrigued by the drug and its strange effects on the population than a silly mayoral race, so she focused on the drug to introduce his platform.

  “Well Mindy” Jacob cleared his throat and took a sip of his coffee. “XMB3 is a drug cocktail consisting of three unknown chemicals. Oddly, we have yet to find out the exact chemical make-up, it is almost alien in composition. However, we do know how it affects th
e users. When ingested, either through injection into the bloodstream, or administered via a dropper directly into the eye, the drug then combines with the red blood cells and essentially reproduces itself in the body.” Jacob was excited to share the information, but tried not to sound too excited, in fear of glorifying the drug. “The drug works fast, and soon becomes part of its host. Once it arrives in the brain, it slowly destroys all areas of the organ that control rational thought and reason. Essentially, you become a zombie.”

  Mindy had no idea that the drug was so poisonous to the addict. She, and most of the listening audience, thought that it was more like acid, not a permanent “fix” as Jacob had described, although extremely addictive like meth.

  “So, what you are telling us is that this is a onetime use drug? How are the dealers expecting to make money off of it? It seems that the public would become too scared to even take it, knowing that there is no relief from its devastating effects” said Mindy.

  “From what we have seen, normal dealers are not distributing the drug. In fact, they are not only against it, but have been known to target anyone that they even suspect of selling the drug. Also, I should mention that once the drug has taken up residence in the hosts’ body, it actually replicates

  itself within the red blood cells, and becomes part of the host. So, like a virus, it can be extremely contagious. In fact, if an infected host were to drip saliva, blood, semen, etc. into an open wound of a non-infected person, they will soon become infected. It is essentially the AIDS of the drug world. If not controlled, we could have a pandemic on our hands” Jacob said with a shaky voice.

  For a few second, there was silence. Although dead air is never good for a broadcast, it seemed fitting. Mindy could not believe what she was hearing, not only was the drug extremely dangerous, but a non-user could be infected by a crazed user. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a few deep breathes and took a shot of her remaining coffee.

  “Jacob, we need to take a hard commercial break here, but before we go I have a few questions for you to think about. Are you telling us that this drug is creating real life zombies that could potentially bite their victims and create more zombies? What is the Cure? Could this potentially infect living beings other than humans, like dogs and cats? I’m sorry for so many questions, but I am sure the listener’s minds are racing as much as mine is. I mean, holy crap, this is like a bad 80’s horror movie. Anyway, we need to take this break, and we will convene again in two minutes to find out more before taking your calls.”

  A familiar burger joint jingle screamed over the airwaves as Mindy turned towards Jacob, jaw falling to the floor. She knew the new drug was serious, but never imagined that it would create real life zombies. To her left, the call board lit up as callers raced to be the first to speak to Mr. Sievers. Mindy knew this would be a great show, but never imagined her guest would expose a potential pandemic live on air.

  Needing another cup of coffee, Mindy asked Jacob to accompany her to the kitchenette. While there, her shaky hands poured the black goo into her well used cup. Jacob knew that his knowledge and understanding of the potential outbreak would help solidify his spot as Mayor, but was more concerned about the hellish world that would evolve before their very eyes if this drug and its users were not eradicated

  soon. His whole working life has been dedicated to civil service, from his teaching career to his candidacy. What example would he be setting if he ignored the issue and focused on himself?

  Neither spoke much while filling their cups, instead letting the awkward silence speak for itself. The small break was over quickly as Mindy ushered Jacob back to the studio where he could finish his conversation with the faceless masses. Glancing at the online listener queue, she knew that tonight’s ratings were bound to be the highest since she started ten years ago. Rather than continuing the silence, she was quick to start up the conversation again.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, I won’t fluff the intro with bad jokes or clichés. Instead, we will get right back at it. Mr. Sievers will speak for a few more minutes before we jump to the calls. I know you are all trying to call in right now, and I want to thank you for your patience. Jacob, would you like to enlighten us more on the situation before we take a few calls?” Mindy was obviously anxious.

  “Thank you. I have thought about your questions during the break, and am a bit uneasy calling the victims zombies; however the drugs name, XMB3, would seem to point in that direction. The victims show all signs of zombie-like behavior, including the animalistic need to feed. Most cases involving another human infection are caused by injuries in a scuffle, and an occasional bite, although many victims become food and die before the opportunity to become infected arises.

  She paused for effect before continuing on with her dialogue.

  “At this time, there is no known cure. In fact, the host seems to die within a week or two of infection” Jacob wipes sweat from his forehead. “It seems that the body’s reproduction of the drug results in an eventual overdose. So, the best “cure” is to quarantine everyone in their homes for two to three weeks for those infected to perish. Then target the dealers firsthand.”

  “What about animals? Are they prone to infection from a junkie’s contact?” Mindy was almost afraid to ask the

  question. She silently wondered how it would be possible to quarantine all of the animals if they were prone to the drug’s reaction.

  “At this time we have not found a connection between humans and animals, although we have not had a lot of opportunities to research the topic.”

  “Thank Cthulu for that” Mindy said while releasing a deep breath. “Let’s take some calls; I hope you will stay with us till the end Jacob. I am sure the listeners will have a lot to talk to you about, including your plans to clean up the city if elected mayor.”

  For the next half hour, calls flooded in. The questions ranged from inquiries about the early symptoms to whether or not killing a victim of the drug would be inhumane or not. Mindy just sat back and let her callers and Jacob talk back and forth after she answered the calls. For once, she was practically speechless. She had always dismissed the hocus pocus and strange sightings that her listeners craved as nothing more than gibberish. She never really believed in it, although it made for good radio.

  The commercial interlude between hour one and two gave another opportunity for a quick break. Mindy excused herself as she visited the ladies room to make room for more coffee. Jacob stayed behind, marveling at the support he was receiving from the fans of the show. He decided that talking about his candidacy would be in bad taste, unless a caller brought it up first. Instead, he felt that the awareness and concern that was being shared was a much better use of his time. Besides, what kind of mayor would he be if all of his constituents were turned into zombies?

  When Mindy returned, she sat a fresh cup of coffee in front of Jacob, “Here, you will need this”. The aroma was sweet and inviting, a huge contrast to the burnt ooze he sipped earlier.

  A timer on the soundboard counted down the seconds until they were live on the air. As one second became zero, the Hotel California intro welcomed the guests back to the show. Full lines were still flashing across the board. Instead of talking, Mindy went right to the first caller.

  Heavy breathing echoed over the airwaves. Thinking it was a prank caller, Mindy almost disconnected. As she reached for the button to end the call, a frantic voice yelled out over the line. It was hard to understand, but definitely male. He seemed to be running and out of breath.

  “I’m sorry caller, we cannot hear you” Mindy seemed a bit frustrated.

  “Mystic Mindy, I am outside of the station, please help me” the caller was still muffled, but legible. “Please, let me in. They are coming after me!”

  Mindy still thought the caller was pranking her, but Jacob volunteered to check. He excused himself from the seat and slowly exited the studio, careful not to let the door slam behind him. The hallways were admittedly scary after all of the tal
k of zombies and pandemics. The front door was only a few turns away, but the frantic pounding of fists upon security glass echoed before him. He picked up his pace and saw a scared teenage boy anxious to get in.

  Jacob stumbled with the lock, noticing that a small group of men and women scattered from the dark parking lot were fast approaching the scared boy. With shaky hands, he was scrambled with the door lock, forcing it open against the young man’s resistance.

  The boy entered the building fast, flinging the door open wide as he did so. Jacob reached out to grab the handle as it flung back at him. He missed and the door flung bounced open again. Just as he grasped the handle to pull the door shut, one of the crazed attackers grabbed his hand.

  For a brief second Jacob looked the man directly in the eye. That was all it took to see that this poor man had XMB3 circulating through his bloodstream.

  Jacob used his free hand to punch the zombified man in the face, in an effort to knock him away. His aim was off and his fist hit the man in the mouth, scraping open the skin on his knuckles as he knocked out a few teeth. The wound instantly stung, followed by a burning sensation. Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, Jacob kicked the attacker in the knee. The impact was enough to knock the man to the ground; giving Jacob time to pull the door shut and lock it.

  With the threat of the drug induces zombies out of the way, Jacob turned his attention to the young boy. He stood shaking against the wall, sweating profusely. Jacob grabbed his arm and convinced him that the radio station was safe from the harm outside. Together they walked back to the studio.

  During Jacob’s absence Mindy switched up her format, opting to play classic monster songs such as the Monster Bash and Purple People Eater after advising the listeners that she would return shortly with an update on the frantic caller. Not knowing what to expect, she paced the floor hoping he was alright. When both Jacob and the boy finally entered, she sighed in relief.