Zombie Agent

by A. Giacomi

  “With all due respect, Agent Williams, this is the best theory we have so far. Do you really believe this all started with an experiment? That someone created a virus that would produce zombies? We’ve checked. We’ve hired countless spies. No one has ever heard of such a virus on the market. This came from somewhere else…this came from…”

  Special Agent Pearsall goes quite on the other line. I hear faint screams in the background on the other line. “Agent Pearsall?” I ask quietly. He does not respond, but I hear his heavy breathing as the screams behind him grow louder. “Agent Pearsall?” I ask a little louder this time. “Please respond! What the hell is happening out there?” I pace the room as I listen in. I can hear his panicked breaths, and it sounds as though he is running.

  “Agent Williams, they’re awake. They’re all awake.”

  “Who’s awake?” I ask, but the only answer I get is Pearsall’s bloodcurdling screams.

  I drop the phone and pace the room. My mind races. Clearly, he means zombies. Perhaps what he said about the cult is true, and they are rising now and devouring every last agent or scientist out there. As I think of the carnage, my mind goes to Eve. Her body is out there, and I can’t let them tear her apart. I race out the door and leave all sense behind. I run outside of the hotel, flash my badge at a taxi driver, and race off into the night.

  When I arrive back near the Toroweap Overlook, I find an ambulance nearby. The back doors are open, but there is not a soul to be found anywhere. I hop out of my confiscated cab and check the driver’s side of the ambulance. All I find is a large puddle of blood in the seat and a streak of blood leading out in front of the vehicle and into the darkness ahead. I head into the back of the ambulance, and there is the transport container. The lid has a window, and there she is. Eve lies there, blissfully cocooned inside.

  I tap the glass with my hands and beg her to wake up, but she doesn’t stir. I decide to open the container. I want to see her open her eyes one last time. I shake her, but she remains there, motionless.

  In my grief, I am too busy to notice that I have acquired a visitor. A snarl from behind me alerts me, and I barely have time to protect myself from a pair of teeth. I try to hold back the now-zombified paramedic. He is strong, and I fear I may lose this battle.

  As I struggle, I feel a hand rest upon my shoulder. Sleeping Beauty has woken from her slumber, and she is ready for action. The blue veins cover half of her face, and only one of her eyes remains red. “I got this, hun,” she says to me with a wink, and then she grabs the vile creature by the skull so viciously that she crushes it in her hands.

  Even though she’s covered in brains, I embrace her so hard that we make a “squish” sound upon impact. Not the most romantic moment, but I need to touch her, to know that she is still here with me. I go to kiss her, but she turns her cheek to me. “Not now, hun. I’m not quite myself, as you can see.” She points to the half of her body that is covered in blue veins.

  “Eve, what happened down there?”

  She shrugs, looking very disconcerted. “I’m not sure. Let’s go have a look.”

  I grab my flashlight, and we head to the same ledge that Eve leaped off. Below, floodlights highlight a very gruesome scene. Bodies are strewn about, and blood soaks the water below. They will most likely turn soon, and I need to arrange for backup.

  I call Vallincourt on my cell phone. “Vallincourt, listen. The canyon, it was full of zombies. It took out the entire CIA team, there’s blood and bodies in the canyon, and I need a cleanup crew with…” I stop mid sentence as I watch the river filling with infected blood. “Vallincourt, where does Las Vegas get their water supply from?”

  “The Colorado River, why?” Vallincourt asks, genuinely confused.

  “We may have a very big problem on our hands shortly. If anyone drinks that water, they will become infected. Put Vegas on Red Alert! Now!” I hang up and take Eve’s hand. We sprint towards my borrowed cab. “Eve, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid this night is about to get much worse.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  EVE

  The entire cab ride back into the city, I stare at my arms. One is perfectly normal looking, and the other has a blue hue as the veins begin to creep up. It is a bit of a painful throbbing feeling as the veins take over, making me look grotesque and corpse-like. My appearance is not the worst part. My hunger is growing, and a human driver is not helping the situation.

  I decide talking to Marcus might help me take my mind off of food. “Marcus, what is the plan exactly? What if Vegas becomes zombie-ridden? If they drink the water, it would take only minutes or seconds before the entire place is overrun with zombies. Not even I can fight against that!”

  He nods. “I know that, but I need to see for myself and report back. What if I’m wrong? I don’t want to panic unless it’s completely necessary.”

  I agree with him. We need to understand what we are dealing with before we can formulate a plan and react.

  As Marcus continues driving, I can tell that he has a question that he’s dying to ask. He keeps trying to phrase it and then forgets it altogether. “Marcus, what is it? Just ask what you have to ask!” I say in an annoyed voice.

  “Fine! Why did you jump? Why did you do it in the first place? We could have found another way! Tell me why, dammit.”

  I can hear the anger in his voice, but I can’t give him the answer. “No, Marcus, there’s nothing to say. What’s done is done.”

  He slams on the brakes, causing both our bodies to shoot forward uncomfortably. “No! You are going to tell me why you did that to me! How you could do that to me! If we’re gonna die tonight, I want to know what the fuck you were thinking. You would leave me so easily?”

  I can tell that Marcus was hurt, and we have places to be at the moment, so perhaps now is a good enough time for the truth. “He said it was me or you, okay?” I try to shrug it off like it is no big deal, but it hurt me too, and I find it hard to hide the tear that inevitably makes its way down my cheek.

  “I can’t believe that son of a bitch Vallincourt. What did he say exactly?” Marcus spits out venomously.

  “He said that I could either choose to take the fall or he would put a call through to have you shot. That a murder would suffice, it would clear the canyon out all the same. I believed him. I don’t trust Vallincourt, but I’m not stupid. He wouldn’t lie about that. I know how powerful he is. So I jumped, okay? I jumped. Sorry!”

  Instead of anger, Marcus throws himself over to the passenger side and grabs my face, kissing it ferociously. When he pulls away, he simply says, “Don’t you ever try to save my life again!” And with that, he starts up the car again and we’re back en route to Vegas.

  Keeping secrets from him feels awful. I feel better telling him about Vallincourt. I simply pray he won’t attack him once we return home. That will mean risking his life to prove a point that doesn’t matter anyway. You can’t kill me easily, so what is a 350-foot fall to me? Nothing, it means nothing. Marcus will be more upset with the other secret I have been keeping from him. It doesn’t seem the time to discuss it, but I worry that he’ll catch on before I have a chance to tell him about my expiration date. I have been feeling very different lately, and a part of my arm refuses to turn back to normal. I am stuck with a patch of zombified skin, and I have been trying to hide it from Marcus by wearing longer sleeves, jackets, make-up, whatever will hide it best, but it is growing; the rotting skin is creeping up my arm. He will notice soon enough.

  It isn’t until we park our car out front of The Luxor that we notice the odd silence. Vegas is busy twenty-four hours a day, but in this moment, not a soul is visible. I stand outside of the cab listening for anything, but all I can hear is the breeze.

  Marcus walks up to the hotel entrance. He gently pulls on the door at first, but then I see that he begins pulling the handles with vigor. The doors are locked. Which can only
mean they had a very good reason to seal them. Vegas doesn’t shut down for anything, not even a club shooting apparently, but I have a feeling tonight it will be shut down indefinitely. Call it a hunch.

  Marcus and I stare in through the glass doors looking for any sign of life. The hall is clear, the restaurant is clear, and the front desk is clear. You can’t seek answers from invisible people.

  Marcus leans against the doors, clearly trying to think. I’m sure he is thinking the worst. How can he not? The silence speaks volumes about what we may encounter here. I have no plan but a sickening feeling that we should probably leave this instant.

  “Marcus, let’s just get back in the car and head to the airport. If the water supply became infected, how do we even know there are any survivors? There might be hotels filled with zombies, and the living will most likely be infected come morning. We should go!”

  Marcus ponders his answer, but before he has a chance to speak, I spy a visitor. There is a walking corpse behind the glass doors. He slowly creeps towards us and then speeds up. I barely have time to pull Marcus out of the way before the infected partygoer smashes through the glass door. Shards of glass sprinkle through the air like sharp rain. A few pieces tear through my skin as I shield Marcus from the blast. The wounds heal immediately, and when I turn to face the zombie, he is already at my throat trying to pull me away from Marcus. It dawns on me that Marcus may be the last human in town, which means a mass of zombies will soon be after us.

  As the zombie squeezes at my throat and studies Marcus with hungry fascination, I gurgle out the words, “Get…in…the car!” Marcus makes a run for it, and the zombie drops me to the ground in order to pursue him.

  I am glad to see that Marcus makes it and locks the door. It won’t take the zombie long to smash in those windows, so it is my turn to spring into action. I run over to the former human and kick in his left leg, breaking it instantly. The zombie falls to the ground but then turns to hiss at me. He’s still very quick without the use of one leg and crawls towards me and bites my leg, tearing away a good chunk of flesh. He doesn’t find me very tasty, so he spits out the flesh. A leg for a leg, I guess. All is fair in zombie combat.

  We’re both on the ground crawling. I try to crawl away while he pursues me. He wants me out of the equation before he can enjoy Marcus as a meal. The moment grows dire as I hear moaning in the distance. I glance behind me to see an ocean of zombies filling the Vegas strip. They are coming for us, and when they reach us, there will be no escape.

  “Come on! Stupid leg, heal!” I yell as the skin on my ankle tries to regenerate. It’s working but slower than I need right now.

  The zombie chomps down on my shoe, but I kick him in the face hard, sending him back a few inches. I watch Marcus’s wide eyes through the cab window; he has his gun in hand and looks ready to jump out of the cab.

  “Stay in the car!” I yell at him, shaking my head. He’s what they are coming for, and if he leaves the safety of the car, that will mean one less barrier in their way. “Stay in the car!” I scream again, but his mind is already made up. He jumps out, aiming his gun at the crawling zombie’s head. His perfect shot splits the zombies head in half, and he is left a motionless pile of rotten bits.

  Marcus runs to my side to help me up as my leg continues to heal. We both turn to face the crowd of zombies. They all paused at the sound of the gunshot and are now staring at us. If they didn’t notice us before, they sure have now.

  Marcus whispers, “Uhh, we gotta go…”

  Through the pain of my healing, I retort, “Ya think?”

  He giggles a little then turns towards the cab. “Not the best time for a joke, honey,” he says as he places me in the passenger seat. Just as his hands leave me and I glance up at his face, I notice a pained look in his eyes as they water from shock. My eyes jolt to his right shoulder, where teeth have found their target. I scream as I watch the blood and meat tear from Marcus’s shoulder. He shouts in pain, and then everything that happens next feels like slow motion. I remember pulling Marcus to the ground out from the zombie’s reach. Then I remember the hatred that ran through my blood. I let the virus take me completely as I grasp inside the zombie’s mouth and pull its jaw apart until his entire face splits apart. The zombie crumples to the ground, and I grab Marcus and place him in the passenger seat before hopping into the driver’s side. My leg has now healed, but the rest of me aches with anguish as I look at Marcus. His eyes are sealed tightly, and his teeth are clenched as he tries to fight the pain.

  “Press on the wound, Marcus. Stay with me!” I shout frantically.

  I pull out my phone and dial Vallincourt. I need that asshole’s help or we’ll both be goners soon enough.

  He answers so calmly that it pisses me off immediately. “Vallincourt, Agent Williams has been bitten. I need a plane ready for us. We need to get out of here. Las Vegas is now the capital of the undead. I shit you not!”

  There is silence on the other end and then a grunt of displeasure. “Valincourt!” I scream again. I need an answer now!

  He clears his throat. “Yes, yes, there is already a plane on standby. I’ll alert them that you’re on the way and one of our men needs medical attention. Head straight to the tarmac, Eve. It’s a military plane. You’ll know it straight away.”

  When he hangs up, I can’t help feeling that he blames me for this whole mess. Truth is I feel completely responsible for Marcus already. If he dies, that will be on me. I know that there is no cure for the virus that is now melding with his own DNA, but perhaps Dr. August will have an idea? Or with any luck perhaps Agent Williams will become like me. It isn’t the best-case scenario, but at least he won’t be one of them. I won’t let him become the living dead. That is much too miserable a fate.

  I glance over at him again. Every grimace, every painful moan injures me. I hit the gas harder. If I can’t help, I’ll at least do my best to get him someone who can. I feel my lucky locket swaying under my shirt and grab and squeeze it with my available hand. “Please, please help him get through this,” I wish as I squeeze the locket so tightly I fear it may melt away.

  Once at the airport, I notice that it is dark. So this is what happens when drinking water becomes infected. This is terrifying. In only a few hours, Las Vegas was overtaken by zombies. If there are any survivors, they are making themselves scarce.

  There is a gate blocking our way to the tarmac. Our little cab will never be able to smash through it, so we will have to continue on foot. I grab Marcus by the collar. “Look, we gotta walk the rest of the way. I need you to try.”

  Marcus is barely able to keep his head up. It flops from side to side as he tries to focus. He is sweating profusely, and I panic that this could be the end, that he will turn and I will be forced to shoot him.

  I hop out of the car and run over to the passenger side. Pulling Marcus out of the car is easy—I’m strong enough to take his weight—but it is difficult to be fast as he drags at my side.

  “Marcus, stay awake. I’m getting you help. Just don’t give up, okay!?”

  He moans in response. He is still with me but far from fine.

  I spot the plane and try to rush towards it. A man is already waiting on the tarmac. When he spots us, he rolls his hand over and over again, telling us to hurry up. I sense danger all around us. I know they are here. I know they are hungry. So am I. I have been fighting my hunger harder than I ever have before. One side of my body is still covered with blue veins, and I’m sure I look terrifying as the soldier greets me, because his eyes grow wider.

  “You Agent Brenner?” he asks, still looking concerned.

  “Yes, and this is Agent Williams. He was attacked by one of the infected. His shoulder is still bleeding out. Please help him.”

  The soldier nods, and then two other men appear and help Marcus onto the plane. I am about to get on, but when I turn around, I see that a crowd of zombies has
found its way to us. “Start the plane!” I yell to the soldier. He doesn’t hesitate to disappear inside the plane. I decide to wait and watch until they are ready. I don’t want the zombies delaying our departure.

  Most of the dead walk slowly, but since the Azrael Virus is unpredictable, we can never be sure what zombie traits they will take on. It all depends on how your body reacts to the virus. My body decided to take on some pretty decent powers: speed, strength, abnormally quick healing. All things I could learn to live with if I didn’t need to eat flesh. That is the gross part.

  I stare down the zombies as they spot me. They growl and hiss as they sniff me. I’m sure they feel betrayed by one of their own and will rip me to shreds if they get the chance, but I’m not about to let that happen. Not today and not when Marcus’s life hangs in the balance.

  As I watch the sea of zombies approach, I notice one in the back gaining speed. He is one of the exceptions. He grabs his fellow zombies and pulls them out of the way, blasting through the crowd like a snow plow. I brace myself as the virus takes its hold on me. It tingles and feels a little like holding my breath underwater as the virus takes every part of me. When I transform, I become like him, ferocious and merciless.

  He charges at me as if he is a football player and rams me right into the side of the plane. I feel a broken rib—that will take a little longer to heal—but I am much too wound up to feel it. Anger pulses through me, and I will destroy anything in my way.

  I slide down to the ground and out of his grasp. Once on the ground, I trip him and climb on top, punching him in the jaw until it snaps and flies off. The mouthless zombie has lost his greatest weapon. “Feel like less of a man, zombie bitch?” I spit out at him before I bash his head into the pavement and create a large bloody abstract painting upon the tarmac.