Zombies Evolved

by Derick Campbell

  “They sound like a good bunch, allowing zombies and humans to worship together. I don’t know of any other religions that have been so accepting yet of these poor people.”

  I explain our suspicions of the church in Seattle, and the chamber I had found. He is shocked again, and I believe his shock is genuine.

  After a few more related questions, a bit of a tour around the center, and picking up some files he said I could have, I wrap up our meeting by thanking him for the generous donation of his time in answering my queries. He insists that it was no trouble, and that I am welcome back at any time.

  He suggests I can make my own way out at my convenience – stay as long as I like – as he turns to speak with a zombie patient in the area.

  I wander back to the front entrance, making my way through the foyer. I admire some of the artwork on the walls and pedestals. Most of the art here was done by zombie patients that have stayed with the center.

  There are some photos of different groups of zombies, with Jake and various other doctors caring for them or having fun with them. I’m amused by some of the antics of the various groups. Zombies are people too.

  Just then, right by the exit, I see her. She is looking directly at me, with the same intensity I have come to appreciate over the past week.

  It is a picture of Dana.

  Chapter Eight – Suspicion

  The FBI! I can’t believe Dana worked for the FBI.

  At least that is what Dr. Jake Zachman insisted, when I brought him over to the photo to ask about Dana.

  I recall what he said earlier. “Oh, that’s Dana Light. She worked with the FBI five years ago, and joined us for one of our original evolved zombie studies, through co-operation with the U.S. Government. They sent in several evolved zombies – just about anyone with the federal government that had turned. With over two million civilian employees, many reaching retirement years, they had quite a few. Gave them time to think about what they were going to do with zombie employees while they were here.”

  “The FBI doesn’t employ zombies though, do they?” The FBI was one of those slow-changing institutions who still refused to employ zombies today.

  “Yes, I think you’re correct. I don’t know what Dana did after her study group finished with us. If you see her, say hi for me.”

  That was about two hours ago.

  I stop at a coffee shop – something called a Tim Hortons – in Hope, BC, just off of Canada’s highway number one. Good coffee, and these things they call ‘timbits’.

  Maybe Dana can’t tell me about her FBI past for confidentiality reasons. Whatever the explanation, I need to do some digging. I’m pretty sure she told me she turned three years ago. What is she hiding, and why? At least this information helps explain why she’s such a great shot in action. I’m not buying the ‘girl from the farm’ routine.

  “Hey Jim, how are you doing? You at the club?” I called Jim, the retired Seattle cop that helped me earlier.

  “Yup. The Mariners have just started playing – I’ve got a good feeling about them.” I can hear Dave razzing his team choice in the background.

  “Do you still have a friend with the FBI?”

  “You mean my cousin? Yes – the old battleaxe hasn’t retired yet, even though she looks older than me.”

  “I’m going to send you a picture and a name. Could you find out where she worked?”

  “Sure thing – will do.”

  We hang up.

  I recall what my dad would always tell me. “Get your ducks in a row, Robbie.” Ok Dad.

  I have a bad feeling that my dad is deeply involved in the zombie cases I’ve been working. This includes the church, turning zombies, and selling drugs to zombies. I need to find out just how big this is.

  “Captain – how is the Chief doing?” I have a few calls to make – this one is to my boss.

  “It’s not looking good Rob. Doctors are worried that he’s not making sufficient progress.” The captain pauses a moment to take a breath. “I’ve seen that evidence you talked about earlier – we’re not going to be able to sit on that for much longer. Even less if the Chief passes away.”

  “Darn it. I understand Captain. Thanks for bearing with me on this.” I pause as I think about what I’m about to ask. Do I really trust the captain? “Boss, I need you to dig something up for me.”

  “What, do I sound like reception to you?”

  “It’s sensitive Captain, and I don’t know who to trust with this. I think we have corruption within the department. Or may have had.”

  “Damn son – you sure know how to put together a story. Zombies turning, corrupt cops. What’s next – is the mayor in on it too?” He is busting my balls. “Alright, go on.”

  “I need a complete list of all of my dad’s travel plans while he was with the department. Including any of the agencies, governments, or similar that he visited to train in our zombie program.”

  “That shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll check with the admin staff and email what they give me.”

  “Make up something about needing to follow up with them on some adjustments we’ve been making to the program – something like that.”

  “Sounds good. Anything else? Dinner reservations I can make for you?”

  “You’re the best, boss. See you later.”

  “Later.”

  We hang up.

  I finish my coffee and donuts, and get back on the road. I’m headed to Vancouver, BC to meet with the Vancouver PD, and check on the Church of Progressive Faith in town.

  * * *

  Back in Seattle, in the Church of Progressive Faith, Pastor Peter waited outside of the inner sanctuary for his two new zombies – Jenn and Roy. It was customary to leave them overnight to rest after turning. He walked in on them having sex, and quickly excused himself. He was quite embarrassed by this. They hardly noticed, and certainly didn’t stop.

  Once they were ready and dressed, they emerged from the room. Like some that are affected by turning, her eyes were a lighter, paler color of blue – beautiful. His Asian skin had taken on a greyish quality. Peter didn’t know the scientific reasons for these color changes – he just knew they happened sometimes when turning.

  “Jennifer and Roy – I’d like to officially welcome you as zombies to the church. I suspect you’re hungry. Here, I’ve picked up two wonderful zombie feasts for you.”

  He handed both of them a six dollar Jumbo Deal from Jack in the Box – a hamburger and two tacos for each of them. They were quite filling, with a good amount of beef for a hungry zombie. Even if they were before, no zombies are ever vegetarian.

  “Awesome.” “Thanks!”

  While they ate, he spoke to them. “Now I want you that the church looks after our zombies. If you are ever hungry, you can always come to me for food. The church will always feed you.”

  They nodded and smiled at this, crunching loudly on tacos and stuffing hamburger into their mouths.

  “Do either of you have jobs?” Peter asked.

  They both nodded no, while continuing to eat.

  “The church provides for its zombies. You shall both always have jobs while you are with the church.”

  He took a moment to write down information on two pieces of paper.

  “Jennifer, take this. This is the name and phone number of your personal coach, Ada. She will set you up with a job and living quarters if you so desire.”

  Ada is the madam of a cat house in downtown Seattle. Zombie women make great prostitutes, especially if they are below level five. They become part of a pack, have sex all the time, drink and do drugs on the job, all while getting paid. Without anyone to help guide them with alternative choices, hooking becomes second nature.

  “Roy – this is for you. Ted is a great guy. He’ll get you a really awesome job. He can also hook you up with a place if you need.”

  Of course, Ted was the man in the suit that was with the Parson earlier. He’ll employ Roy in the local drug business, drug security, or
for heavy labor – depending on Roy’s z-level and skills.

  The zombies finished eating in record time.

  “Well now that you are done eating, perhaps this would be a great time for you to enjoy the outdoors and see everything for the first time with zombie eyes?” Peter held them by the arms and led them both to the front door.

  “Remember now; call Ada and Ted when you’re ready to get those cool zombie jobs and a place to stay. And come back tomorrow for our weekly sermon and more food!”

  They opened the door and wandered outside, blinking in the light.

  * * *

  I arrive and wait just outside the Vancouver PD, and meet with Detective Glenn Latimer of the Zombie Crimes Division. It is his day off, but he offered to meet me anyway in the spirit of international co-operation.

  “Nice to meet you in person Glenn.” I shake his hand.

  “You too Rob.”

  “Did you learn anything from your narcotics group?”

  “Well, it’s the damndest thing. I mentioned speedballs to the guys in the Drug Unit – expecting them to laugh at me – and they tell me that yes, they have caught a zombie dealing speedballs recently. Young kid – way too young to be a zombie, but he is.”

  “Wow. How about the zombie church, do you know anything about it?”

  “I can do you one better Rob. That drug dealing zombie I mentioned, well the guys brought in one of our – ahem – hotter looking officers to ask him some questions. She fed him cake and milk, held the fork to his lips and everything.

  “Apparently this worked just as well on her fellow officers watching through the one way glass – she received several personal inquiries afterwards.

  “Anyway, he told her all about getting the job selling drugs from someone at the church – someone he thought might work with the church. It was good enough for a judge to get a search warrant.”

  He waves some papers at me. “Want to join us?”

  A short while later and Glenn is driving me to visit the Vancouver edition of the zombie church to execute their search warrant, and Jim calls.

  “Rob here.”

  “Hey Rob, its Jim. I’ve got some info for you.”

  “That was fast.”

  “My cousin didn’t need to look at the photo for long before recognizing the picture of Dana you sent me.”

  “Ok.”

  “Yeah, turns out there aren’t many women in the FBI – they all kind of know each other. She didn’t even need to look anything up.” Jim pauses.

  “You’re killing me here Jim – what did you learn?”

  “My cousin says yes, Dana works for the FBI. I asked her to clarify – did she mean before or now?”

  “And…”

  “Dana works for the FBI now – she is pretty sure of that. They don’t see each other often, but she has seen her at the Seattle office within the last year.”

  “Wow – what does she do?”

  “Now that she doesn’t know. When she looked it up in their online address book, it simply said ‘active assignment’. No indication of department or what the active assignment is.”

  “This is great info Jim – you’re awesome. How did the Mariners do today?”

  “Fuck Rob, thanks for reminding me. I lost two hundred bucks in today’s game. God damn Mariners.”

  “Don’t worry about it Jim – that game was on me.”

  “Thanks Rob!”

  “No problem – thank you too.” We both hang up.

  We arrive at the church – I let the Canucks lead the way. This church has a Parson Peter equivalent that gets all huffy with the police about the search warrant. They handcuff him to one of the pews for the duration of the search.

  The search doesn’t take too long – there isn’t much to go through. This church is also newly established, and the space is fairly small.

  They don’t find any illegal drugs, but we do find another room done up for turning zombies, with similar equipment. They also find several consent forms that have been signed from people that have agreed to become zombies.

  Glenn goes to harass the parson about zombie turning, to which the parson explains that it is all good and legal.

  I zone out and stop listening. I’ve heard this song before.

  There are over thirty big cities listed – in the file I received from Doctor Zachman – that contain a zombie church. How many of these zombie churches are turning zombies?

  * * *

  “Connecting you 6628,” said a different voice on the other end of the line this time. There was a familiar silent pause, then a click.

  “Dana – good to hear from you. We heard about the shooting of the Chief of Police. What else do you have for us?” It was the same male voice as last time.

  “We’ve made progress in uncovering the source of corruption in the Seattle PD.” Dana was all business. “The police found evidence that the corruption is with the Chief and his wife at the scene of his shooting, in his home. They’ve been involved in massive drug shipments and they own the church that has been turning zombies.”

  “This is quite the development. Will you need our assistance?”

  “I don’t think so. It seems like the Seattle Police will figure this out on their own, and take care of things for us. They will never need to know we’ve been investigating.”

  “This is good news Dana. And how about the Stack family?”

  “So far, there is nothing to connect them with the corruption. They seem clear. I will keep looking though.”

  “The military-like drug recovery operation and the Chief’s shooting, do you know who was behind either of these?”

  “The drug recovery operation had inside police knowledge – it is possible the Chief was behind it. We haven’t found the military group involved yet, but are following some leads. As for the shooting, the Chief’s wife may have been involved, or someone else in their criminal organization, trying to get ahead. We are investigating that too.”

  “Thank you for the update Dana. We have some information for you.”

  “Oh.” This surprised Dana – usually the information went the other way.

  “Your position within the Seattle police may be compromised. One of the clerks in human resources was looking at your information online. She did this after receiving a phone call from a cell phone owned by a retired Seattle cop. Now a registered zombie.”

  “How do you want to play this Dana?”

  “Give me a few days. I think I know who has been looking into my background. My new partner hasn’t been satisfied with my reasons for having good shooting skills.”

  “He sounds perceptive. Is your life in jeopardy?”

  “No – I don’t think so.”

  * * *

  It’s getting late – I’m staying in a hotel just outside of Vancouver on the way back to Seattle. I’m tired from driving all through the night yesterday; I decide not to push it again.

  I’m cross comparing the list of church cities with the travel schedule I received from the Captain. There’s an overlap of at least 90%. In his email, the Captain points out that these cities are pretty much the ones with a population of half a million or more.

  I do some online research – to find and list all of the zombie police units covering each of these churches. All of the people I’m going to need to contact. Whew – it’s going to take a while!

  My cell phone rings. I can tell from the caller ID that it’s the captain.

  “Hey Captain – you know they have this feature on email called Read Receipt. You can use it to tell if I got your email, you don’t need to call me.”

  “Nice one, whippersnapper – I know how to use email. That’s not what I’m calling about.”

  He pauses for effect.

  “Are you going to make me beg?”

  “Ha, just yanking your chain Rob. We received a call earlier today from social services, I just heard about it while looking over the daily reports. You know those original zombies you, Jake, and D
ana rescued from the church?”

  “Yes.” A shiver goes up my spine. Don’t remind me.

  “They were kidnapped this morning.”

  Chapter Nine – Trust

  Sunday June 27

  I wake up a little late on Sunday, still in Canada. I must have really needed the sleep.

  I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I figure that I should trust Dana with some of the info I’ve learned.

  I give her a call while I’m on the road back to Seattle.

  “Hey Dana – it’s Rob.”

  “Morning Rob – how are you?”

  “I’m ok. I’ve been doing some additional background research on our church. I have some information to give you.”

  “That’s great. I visited the zombie security company yesterday. Took a test and got to meet some of their staff.”

  “Wow Dana – that was quick! Learn anything useful?”

  “I think two of the guys working there are in Phil’s photos.”

  “That seems more than coincidental. What do you think we should do next?”

  “Well, it seems to me that these guys are all right. Many ex-military, working primarily on contract work for the US government. They don’t seem like your average street thugs.”

  “Okay, what does this mean for us?”

  “I think we need to figure out who hired them, and what story they were given. I got to know their local unit commander, a guy named Joseph Smith. He’s the key to understanding what happened here.”

  “We’ll get a full work-up on him, and perhaps see about a search warrant?”

  “That seems logical. Let me think about it – we might not want them to know we’re on to them.”

  “Yeah, ok. Hey – I have something for you. I’ve been putting together a list of all of the zombie church locations I can find. There are over thirty of them. Turns out they are often in big cities, same kinds of cities that have zombie relations departments with the police.” (I decide not to share the connection with my dad, just yet.)

  “That makes sense – big cities have the largest zombie populations to grow a church with, and the largest quantity of zombie crime. How did you find so many of them so quickly?”

  “Just me and my mad internet skills.” I decide I don’t want her to know I was with the zombie doctor in Canada – at least not yet.

  “I see.” She doesn’t sound quite convinced. I change the subject.

  “Hey Dana – tell me, how did you get to be such a great shot with a handgun?”