The original location, before Chuck and I purchased it, had a huge kitchen and storage areas in back. We took out most of the kitchen, leaving just a small area with a deep fryer, a grill, and a fridge, and converted the rest including storage areas into open area seating. Chuck has a small second bar area in the back, with a low window they can pass bottles through. Sally is working the half-bar tonight.
There’s a bulletproof windowed area in the corner for taking bets and cash. We also take bets by phone from pre-approved phone numbers. Nothing online yet, although I’m considering it.
It doesn’t bring in too much, but I’m putting enough away for an early retirement.
I see the reason I came here tonight, and head over by the baseball game.
“Hey zombies.” I settle in to sit down with two friends. Retired zombie cops that I know pretty well – Dave and Jim.
“Hey Rob,” they both raise a glass, we clink and drink. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Sorry about Steve.”
“Yeah, me too.” I pause before continuing. Steve really liked it here.
“I’ve got some detective legwork that needs doing. Are either of you interested?”
They glance at each other. Dave shrugs his shoulders, gives Jim a slightly negative expression.
“Sure Rob, I can handle it,” Jim says.
I pass him an envelope containing a few company names. “I need to know the background information on these companies. How long they’ve been around, ownership, what they do – that kind of thing.”
“Hmmm,” Jim is thoughtful, “there’s some reason you aren’t getting help from the PD on this. Is this related to your side-business, or are you investigating someone official?”
“Let’s just say I don’t want to get chewed out at the office.” Jim nods at me, and I continue. “You want to get paid in cash, or shall I put it on your tab?”
“Put it on my tab Rob. The Mariners have sucked the last couple of months.”
“I told you not to put your faith in them this season,” Dave smiles and drinks his beer. “Their trades were for crap.”
I recall the other business I want to discuss. “Say, have you guys heard about this drug raid against the PD?”
“Shit, yeah – it’s all any cops have been talking about. I’m surprised it’s not all over the news,” Dave is enthusiastic while mentioning it.
“Did you hear the bad guys may have been military? And possibly zombies?” I look into their eyes for recognition or surprise.
“No way! Now I’ve heard it all,” Jim replies.
Dave adds, “That makes me think. Remember when we each retired?”
“Yeah, I see where you’re going with this. Tell him.”
Dave looks right in my eyes and lowers his voice a bit. “When I retired from the PD, about three weeks later this zombie comes to my house to recruit me. He’s looking for zombies with police, military, or security experience. I’m comfortable retiring – I’ve been a cop my whole life, and only been a zombie about a year. I tell him to get lost.”
“Why haven’t you guys told me this before?”
“You never asked Rob.” Dave replies and drinks his beer again.
Jim adds, “I retired about a year after Dave. Three months ago I get a visit from the same kind of zombie. I tell him I’m not interested. He is really persistent – he wants me to contact him if I change my mind.”
“Please tell me one of you remembers who this guy is?” I plead.
“I can do better than that,” Jim reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his wallet. “Here’s his card.”
I finish drinking my beer with them, cover their tab for the night, and head back home.
Chapter Six – Innocence
Friday June 25
Jake, the big zombie cop from the IAB, and his partner Mac have continued to tail the zombie kid from the harbor, watching for anything suspicious. Dana and Rob still believe the kid is tightly connected to drug activity at the harbor.
Jake and Mac have been taking turns, and this morning Jake was arriving to replace Mac.
Mac was sitting on the second floor above the harbor master’s office, listening to talk radio, eating peanuts, and clandestinely checking in on the kid regularly through binoculars.
The radio announcer was discussing US politics. “It seems that an ex-republican member of Congress has established the Modern Zombie Party after turning into a zombie himself. The former Senator of Texas is quickly gaining popularity with his ‘tough love’ campaign towards social services, healthcare, and education, and his fight to drop the latest federal gun control legislation.
“Support for his new Party seems to be building, primarily by stealing right-wing voters from the state’s Republican Party. The new Party’s tag line, ‘You don’t have to be a zombie to see what’s wrong with America’ is making headlines.”
“Hey Mac, what’s up?” Jake whispered, and tossed a tennis ball at Mac. Jake liked to bounce a tennis ball around while on surveillance.
Mac caught it. “The usual gang of home boys.”
Jake picked up the binoculars and watched for a while. “Who is this guy showing up? I haven’t seen him before.”
Mac took a look. “I don’t know – but he’s carrying a sports bag. We haven’t seen this kind of activity before.”
“Keep watching, Mac.”
“Okay… it’s a switch. The kid’s buddy handed the cash they’ve been collecting from drug sales. The bag has been left behind and the delivery boy is on the move. Get your car Jake, I’ll follow this new one on foot – you come pick me up. This is exactly the kind of lead we’re looking for.”
Jake took off down the stairs, and back towards his vehicle – running faster than a human his size possibly could. He sprinted past shipping containers, past delivery trucks, and into the large parking area. He found his car, and brought it toward the front of the lot for Mac, hiding in plain sight in a handicap parking spot.
Mac called. “Jake, are you ready?”
“Yup – waiting for you in the handicap zone.”
“Are you trying to say something about my physical condition Jake?” Mac joked while breathing a little heavier than normal. “The delivery boy is coming into the parking lot now. Keep your head down.”
Jake scrunched down in the vehicle, while staying on the phone. “Is he gone yet Mac?”
“Yeah – he’s past you now, heading into the middle of the lot. I’ll be with you in a sec.” Mac hung up the phone.
Mac joined Jake in the car. “If we head out now, slowly, we should be behind him closer to the exit. There aren’t many others around – we should be able to spot him.”
Jake drove slowly around the lot toward the exit, looking all around.
“There he is Jake. Stop for a moment.” Mac pulled out the binoculars to watch the moving vehicle. “Yup, that’s still him. Pull up behind him, but don’t get too close.”
Jake drove a few cars behind the target in a different lane, while Mac typed in the license plate for additional info.
“Yup, this kid has a rap sheet a mile long. Let’s see where he takes us while I call Rob.”
* * *
Dana and I park the car, walk two cars ahead, and sit down in the back of Jake’s car.
“Morning guys,” I say, “tell me what we’re looking at here.”
“Hey Rob and Dana,” Mac replies, “we’re watching the guy who delivers drugs to your zombie kid at the harbor. First time we’ve seen him, so we left the kid behind to track him here.”
“Nice job. We have any info on this dude?”
“If this is his car – and from the photo the computer has on file I think it is – he’s got a long record of causing mischief. He’s in the blue house up ahead on the left. The house isn’t in his name though, might be a rental.”
“You both deserve a break. We’ll watch him now.”
We catch up briefly on other news and then break up. Dana and I head back to my car, looking over th
e delivery boy’s info and photo on Dana’s laptop.
A few minutes later, the delivery boy emerges and gets in his car.
Dana asks, “Should we follow him?”
“Nah, we’ve got a trail of evidence that led us here – we should search his place. We know who he is and where he hangs out – hopefully we can catch up with him again if we need to.”
“Sounds good. Let’s go.”
We walk to the blue house, guns at the ready in our unclipped holsters.
Dana stands close to the side of the house while I knock on the front door.
No answer, so I knock again, louder, and announce our presence.
The front door doesn’t open for us; we wander around toward the back. The garage area is open and the house door within it opens easily.
Once inside the home, Dana and I look around.
“Someone forgot to charge their phone,” I call out to Dana. “Look what we have here.”
Dana joins me in the bedroom. “It’s an iPhone – perfect.”
“Why’s that?”
“The security on these is a joke, and it contains a record of all the recent locations it has been taken.”
Dana leaves briefly to grab her laptop, then plugs the phone into it with a cable she has with all kinds of connectors on it. I’m not familiar with the software she is using, but it sure doesn’t look like Apple standard issue.
“This will take me a few minutes,” she explains.
“I’ll keep poking around in the meantime.” I check through drawers and closets, even look in the fridge. I don’t find anything that seems important.
“Okay, I’ve got a ton of data from this thing,” Dana explains excitedly, resting the iPhone back in its charger. I didn’t expect her to be a technology geek.
“I hope it’s useful, because it’s the only interesting thing in this place.”
We head back towards the car to research the location data. Dana plans a route for us to investigate.
* * *
It’s late in the morning, and the church contained a small contingent of zombie worshippers, Peter the pastor, and two humans.
“We are gathered here today to welcome two humans to the exciting and carefree domain of zombie evolution.”
Peter’s clothing today is darker and more dazzling than before. This was a special ceremony for the church. Peter has presided over at least fifty of these rituals, turning two people each time.
“Jennifer and Roy, do you wish to see the light, and return with the improved senses of your zombie brothers and sisters?”
“I do.” They each respond.
“By the power vested in me – I grant you the right of passage. I accept you into the zombie brotherhood.”
Peter thought back to the beginning over a year ago, once they were just getting started. The church was made up of the elderly – people cast out of their original faiths, and families, looking for acceptance.
They received that here. And they contributed happily to the small fortune the church has been growing.
“Humans – let us adjourn into the inner sanctuary where your passage may begin. Zombies, make some noise, and keep Jennifer and Roy in your thoughts.”
The zombies murmured and hummed, creating a full, resonating sound in the hall. Peter and the two humans walked into the back area. The doctor was waiting, also dressed ceremonially. He looked more like the religiously devout rather than a doctor.
“Here is your spiritual agreement with the church and our zombie nation. Within, it describes the improved strength, greater emotional fortitude, improved senses, and improved pain resistance you may receive upon joining the zombie enlightened.”
A highly paid lawyer helped put this contract together. They agreed to have it written after they first attempted to turn humans into zombies. They needed to protect themselves after what had happened.
“This agreement also describes the risks you face when entering the zombie brotherhood. Some zombies cannot feel any emotion, and have a complete disregard for the rules and laws followed by humanity. They have evolved beyond the pack – they are our zombie spiritual guides.”
At least half of the humans which were first turned ended up as level ones, also known as original zombies. Peter was terrified of the level ones. Deep down, he was glad they were gone. He did not know what the Chief had planned for them, nor did he care.
“When you are ready to follow the path to your greater zombie selves, please sign the spiritual agreement and lie down in one of the beds. The church’s medical specialist here will lovingly administer your zombie nectar, and you will sleep for the last time in your life as a human.”
The young adults signed the papers and walked to their beds. Potassium chloride was not how they initially created zombies. The initial waves of youthful zombie church-goers were created through suffocation. Apparently the longer duration of low oxygen levels people retained through suffocation increased the level of brain damage inflicted. It was not a productive way of creating zombie churchgoers.
“Our specialist is now administering your IV – this is not the zombie nectar yet.” The doctor used a topical anesthetic on their arms, and administered a sub-dermal anesthetic as well. The patients felt nothing as the IV needle entered. Peter didn’t want any discomfort to affect their response to this final question.
Peter stood before them, out of the way of the monitoring camera, with a caring smile on his face. He wanted the camera to capture this scene perfectly. “Before we continue, let me ask you both one final time. Are you sure you want to proceed, understanding the medical risks and benefits involved?”
Each of the young adults had taken an anti-depressant/sedative earlier, given to them by one of the zombie patrons.
“Yes,” they both answered with a smile.
“Then we shall receive you into the pack. Welcome my children, welcome.”
The doctor administered the KCI, and they waited.
Peter watched for it closely. He is certain he can see the flash of the divine under their skin, in the darkness of the room. As he has seen, so many times before.
More young zombies for his church.
* * *
Two tough zombies were working in a large room that had been used to process drugs and package them into smaller speedball portions. There are about a dozen boxes left in the room to be carried into the garage, and packed into the van.
The smaller zombie accidentally knocked a tall arrangement of boxes over, causing the top box to fall over, open, and spill some of its contents on the floor.
The bigger zombie looked over and yelled at him. “You dumb level three, can’t you do anything right?”
The smaller zombie had started to put the drug packages back into the box. “Fuck you, egghead. Why did you have to pile up the boxes so high in the first place?”
As they continue to bicker, a familiar vehicle arrived outside.
Inside the building, the zombies continued moving boxes and taking verbal swings at each other.
The taller, smarter zombie noticed through a small garage window that they had company.
* * *
“Dana, I’m getting tired of visiting every Jack in the Box and 7-11 in town. This rundown old place hasn’t had anyone in it in years. Perhaps he just drove by it.”
Dana looks around, and then replies. “Nope, he stayed here. And there are fresh tire tracks going through that muddy puddle over there.”
She is right. After a long day of wild goose chases we’ve finally found a location worth looking into.
“Okay, I take it back. Let’s investigate.”
We exit the vehicle and get our handguns ready.
I call out to the building, “Hello! Any zombies in there?”
Ah zombies, you can count on the lower levels to fill in the silence. From inside, “Who wants to know?”
“Shut up you idiot,” another person yells from in the building, quietly.
Dana calls to me, “I can
hear at least two people in there.”
I continue to harass who I now assume are zombies. If they were human, they would react differently. “We know you’re keeping the drugs in there! We’re going to come in and take it all away from you.”
The first zombie sounds like he is boiling over in frustration. “Just you try it!”
“Stop talking to them,” the second zombie yells back, loud enough for me to hear.
I just know I can get the first one to show himself. “Your boss is going to be so pissed that you lost all your drugs to a couple of rookie human cops.”
“Not going to happen!” The first zombie states, anxiously.
At this point, the second zombie scolds the first. “Would you keep your mouth shut you idiot! These cops don’t know anything.”
“They know we have drugs here and they know we’re inside guarding it. What else is there to fucking know?”
I call in again. Zombie psyche training doesn’t just teach you how to calm a zombie down. “We’re going to take all of your drugs away and make you look stupid. All of the other zombies are going to laugh at you. Just a couple of brainless zombies, they’re going to say. So stupid, can’t even stop two humans.”
“Arrrggh – I’m not stupid!” The first zombie yells and shoots through the front door. Apparently his partner is too slow to stop him.
“Damn it – now we’re screwed,” the second zombie swears under his breath.
Yikes – that shot was a little too close for comfort. “At least now we don’t need a search warrant, hey Dana?”
“Yes, but perhaps you could make fun of some unarmed zombies next time Rob?”
We crouch and wander together around the building, looking for another entrance. No sense going in right where the zombies are shooting.
Around the side, we find a large wooden door with glass window and shutters. It’s locked. I pull my sleeve over my hand and tap a hole through the glass with the butt of my gun. I pause – there’s no shooting towards us – then push my other hand through the window and open the door. It opens outwards.
Still crouching, I peek inside. No zombies, so I enter.
I’m in an office kitchenette area. I wonder, perhaps everyone would like to sit down over some coffee? Somehow I don’t think this is how it will go down.
I wander around the corner of offices, checking into each cubicle for any hidden zombies.
I arrive at the hallway leading to the front entrance. So much for surprise – I’m going to have walk right by where the zombie first shot at me.
Zombies Evolved Page 9