Caged 4: A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Thriller (Zombie Lockup Series)

by Chuck Buda

  “That’s been taken over by the Warden now. He is working on his army of the dead. My focus is solely on perfecting a serum to keep us alive and kicking.”

  “So you aren’t training those fucking things to heel anymore? I thought you were doing all that Freud bullshit with them.”

  Dr. Shipley chuckled. “Freud was more concerned with female orgasms and penis envy. I was doing the work of Skinner and...”

  “I don’t give a fuck which one of your nerds did what. I thought the goal was to teach the zombies to attack the other zombies from the outside.”

  Muncie wondered how much Shipley knew about the Warden and Guyton. He wanted to see who was in the loop and who wasn’t.

  “It’s still one of the goals. However, Gorgon and Guyton are working on that part. I’m glad they took that off my hands.”

  “Guyton?”

  Muncie watched as Shipley grew restless. He busied himself with shuffling items on the counter.

  “I think. Maybe. Someone is helping Gorgon. I could’ve been mistaken. Anyway, I should get back to work here. If I don’t produce results soon then I’ll be tossed in A-Pod with all the other pawns.”

  Muncie nodded. His mind worked through the turn of events. Guyton had indeed moved to the top of the pecking order. Ahead of Muncie. And Shipley was in the know. He wondered if Crawford, who was chomping at the bit to usurp his hold, had been brought into the fold as well. Guyton, you pot-smoking nigger. What could Guyton be doing for the Warden? Giving him reefer? Could the boss be growing a private crop to numb himself from the inevitable end of the world? Or was the Warden working on a weed to dumb down the rest of Warsaw so he could control them all better?

  Something didn’t make sense to Muncie but he was aching to get to the bottom of the new information.

  “Alright, Doc. I’ll let you get back to work.” He slapped the doctor’s shoulder in a buddy-buddy act of familiarity. “Just let me know what you find down here. And remember, I’m here to help in any way I can.” He grinned at the fantasy of killing his enemy. “I’d be happy to bring Jack Turk in here for a little experimentation. Just say the word.”

  Dr. Shipley ignored his last comment, returning to the microscope.

  As Muncie backed out of the lab, his gut churned with fresh bile. His list of problems kept growing. First Turk. Then the Warden. Crawford. Shipley. Now Guyton. He figured he needed more eyes on the back of his head than his scalp could provide room. Maybe he should pay another unexpected visit to one of his sneaky pals.

  Which one should he see first?

  Muncie squeezed the baton in his hands, hoping to feed the hickory some more skull juice soon.

  Chapter 4

  Warden Gorgon had worked himself to exhaustion. The last few hours had taken every scrap of energy from his body. He had practiced the mind control on the denizens of A-Pod. Guyton had stood by his side as he learned how far he could go with his commands.

  Since A-Pod was turned into a zombie holding tank, including the guards they had purposely infected and tossed inside, it was easy to keep his experiments under wraps. The Warden had assigned Guyton to keeping an eye on A-Pod. His one and only true confidant. Gorgon knew Muncie would learn of Guyton’s reassignment in short order. But he hoped he could get some of the creatures up to speed enough to quell and potential dissension in the ranks.

  The zombies listened to his commands, obeying all his orders. At least, they had for the first couple of hours. Then the control dwindled over time. The zombies would react as if they heard his commands coming through their undead brains. But they would appear confused and go back to following their baser instincts of searching for human flesh. The zombies piled up at the window of A-Pod, each clawing and rasping at the Warden’s meat.

  “Why won’t they obey me anymore? Are you doing something to counter my commands?”

  Guyton shook his head vehemently. “No, sir. I am only observing. I have no control over them.” He pointed a shaky finger at the things in the pod.

  Warden Gorgon wondered why he had lost control. Everything had been going well. Could Guyton be using some subliminal voodoo magic to tear the reigns from his hands? Or perhaps the blood transfusions would wear off over time. In which case, he would have to work with Dr. Shipley to enhance the blood donations, make them stretch further. Last longer. Somehow.

  “I’m going to take a break for a while. Why don’t you stay here and make sure the place stays locked down?” He sized up Guyton. The man appeared to be fearful of his position. Gorgon began to doubt the guard had anything to do with the zombies not listening to him. Besides, Guyton had witnessed to what lengths the Warden would go when he slit his loyal secretary’s throat in order to save them all. Surely the man wouldn’t be foolish enough to turn against the man who held sway over his life.

  Guyton thanked the Warden for giving him the assignment. He promised to ensure his orders would be followed. The Warden relaxed as he realized his fears about the guard were unfounded. He knew he couldn’t be too careful in these trying times. Men would offer their own mothers if it meant saving their own hides. Years of experience and personal studies have proven those results. The Warden had to remain vigilant with everyone.

  Everyone.

  Especially Muncie and the prisoners. The prisoners could never be trusted. They were residents of Warsaw for that reason alone. And Muncie, his top commander, had been so loyal to him for years. Now, Muncie was a dangerous viper in a pit filled with thousands of venomous snakes. He might actually be more dangerous because he took pleasure in human suffering. Maybe some of the convicts in the prison enjoyed killing as much as Muncie. But Muncie liked to savor the suffering of his victims. He would prolong their dying so he could savor every last drop of spilled blood. Muncie was pure evil.

  The Warden had been the benefactor of the man’s violence for a decade. The day had arrived where the Warden might become one of the notches on the bastard’s bursting belt. He’d seen the fire behind Muncie’s eyes. The threat wasn’t lost on the Warden. Muncie had told him that once the walls were breached, it would be every man for himself. And the Warden would be on par with the undead lurking through the shadows. A piece of meat to be hacked through.

  Muncie’s days were numbered. Like any manager, Warden Gorgon understood that employee value waned over time. Complacency and comfort settled in where drive and hunger used to propel ambition forward. Eventually, employees grew tired of the manager’s message and either left for greener pastures or had to be put to pasture by the man in charge.

  Muncie’s value had waned.

  The Warden intended to squeeze every last drop from Muncie before he made the final decision. There would be no firing or letting go with a gold watch. He would have to issue an order to execute the large man. Men like Muncie couldn’t be left to their own devices. Revenge played too large a part in his blood. Muncie would gather what weapons he could and he would return to topple the Warden.

  As he walked back to his office, Gorgon loosened his tie. He needed to take a breather. A quick splash of cold water on his face and neck would enliven his aching bones. He knew every soul in the prison was reaching breaking point. If they hadn’t already. Life was at stake and the human mind would do anything to survive, to catch one more breath.

  He smiled to himself that the zombies were the only creatures left who lived peacefully. They tore living meat apart and fed on life, but internally, their minds only did what they needed to do. Very basic living. No thoughts about the end. No remorse for things they had done when they were alive. No emotions about lost loved ones or distant memories. Only peace.

  The Warden secretly wished for his moment to come. His heart longed for his wife and children. Without the ache, he wouldn’t know the truth.

  He closed the office door behind him. Slowly, the Warden slid his back down the door until he crumpled upon his legs. He looked down at the wrinkles in his suit pants. It dawned on him that he had been wearing the same clothes for days. H
e had kidded himself that he still portrayed the image of an impeccably dressed, professional leader. If his image faltered then the whole prison would become a deck of cards.

  A tear rolled down his cheek. Only one. His dehydration refused to offer up any more fluids than it could muster.

  Chapter 5

  When Jonas opened the door to the hole, BJ’s eyes had been blinded by the light. He winced and drew his arm before his face to shield the glare from his enlarged pupils. He was glad that to exit the monstrous den even though his mind worried if he would be headed to the Infirmary as the next experiment.

  “You smell ripe.”

  BJ sniffed at his armpit. It occurred to him Jonas may be referencing the general stench of the hole which permeated a man’s skin and clothing. He shrugged and stepped out. BJ looked around. Only Jonas stood before him.

  “Where’s your backup?”

  “Got the shits.” Jonas nodded over his shoulder toward the bathroom.

  “Must be nice to get an upset stomach from eating so much food.” BJ struggled to keep his own belly quiet, listening to the gurgles and groans in the darkness.

  Jonas huffed. “We get as much food as you do, dick.”

  BJ smiled as his eyes adjusted slowly to the new environment. He didn’t believe Jonas but he couldn’t do anything about it anyway. BJ dismissed the admission and held his hands out for the cuffs.

  Jonas placed the shackles on BJ’s wrists. He turned him and gently pushed BJ forward. He decided to network with his old school buddy. BJ figured he could use a friend on the other side of the wall. He had trusted Jack with being his one good friend in the pod. After Jack strong-armed BJ into taking the rap for Joker’s death, he was going to make sure he looked out for himself, first and foremost.

  “I got your back, you know.”

  Jonas laughed. “Okay. That’s good to know. If I ever find myself locked in C-Pod, I’ll be sure to bunk up with you.”

  BJ stopped walking. He faced Jonas. “I mean, I got you. Everybody knows the Warden has flipped his lid. And Muncie is a fucking psycho. Just saying, when the shit hits the fan, I’ll be around to make sure my guys don’t kill you.”

  Jonas shoved BJ along. They walked in silence for a few moments. BJ knew he had a better chance of getting pregnant than cozying up to a prison guard. But desperate times called for him to play the part of kiss-ass. He didn’t know which end was up anymore and he needed allies.

  An idea struck. BJ smiled to himself.

  “Some shit is going down. I’m telling you so you can keep your head on a swivel. Protect yourself.”

  Jonas grabbed BJ’s arm. He spun him around. “What shit?”

  BJ hooked him. Time to reel him in.

  “There’s talk about breaking out.”

  “In C-Pod? Who’s talking?”

  BJ hunched is shoulders. “Not just C-Pod. Everyone. Even guards.”

  Jonas rolled his eyes.

  “It’s true. I know, why would you believe me? I’m just a con with an angle. I get it. But the whole fucking place knows what’s up. Zombies. Tests. Killing off prisoners.” BJ watched Jonas’ expression fade from hostility to contemplation. “Think about it. What does anybody have to lose anymore? If we know we are going to die anyway, why not go out fighting?”

  Jonas nodded his head that BJ should continue walking. “This place is ironclad. It would take quite a concerted effort for you guys to get out.”

  BJ scoffed. “That’s what they said about the Titanic. Too big to sink. But it did.”

  The men walked in silence.

  BJ hoped he had broken through. He congratulated himself silently, amazed at his skills. I could’ve gotten O.J. off too, motherfuckers! He began to walk with a cocky step.

  “Which guards are in on this?”

  BJ needed a lie. He stammered before he could think it through. “Crawford or somebody. Not sure.”

  Jonas stopped him. He forced BJ to look him in the eyes.

  “No way Crawford is in. He’s so far up Muncie’s ass he can smell Muncie’s breath. You’re full of shit.”

  “Look, I don’t got names. I just know that people are talking every chance they get. Somebody go to the hole. Somebody’s talking. You go to the Infirmary? Somebody’s talking. Once shit gets inside the pod, it gets around.”

  BJ knew he needed to quit yapping before he blew it. He made sure to end it with an over-the-top sales job.

  “If nothing happens then we’re all good. But if it does, wouldn’t you be happier that you had a friend who gave you an insider tip? Somebody that helped you prepare before shit got real? That’s all I’m doing. I’m giving you a tip so you can watch yourself. And I’m only doing it because we go back. We got history, man. I wouldn’t help any of those other jackboots out. Not in a million life sentences, bro.”

  BJ waited for Jonas to call him out again. They moved down the empty hallway without saying a word.

  As they neared the door to C-Pod, Jonas whispered out of the corner of his mouth. “I’ll cover you too. If it hits the fan, I’ll look for you. Until then, you’re still just a prisoner.”

  BJ hid his smile as Jonas uncuffed him. He nodded cryptically at Jonas as he shoved NJ inside the pod. The door slammed shut and the tumblers clicked into place. Jonas’ eyes showed he was sincere. BJ tried to convey the same signal back through the filthy glass.

  He rounded to make his way back to the bunk room. BJ couldn’t wait to lie down on the threadbare mattress, which would feel like a cloud resting on a bed of feathers compared to the putrid, disgusting floor in the hole.

  On his way to his room, BJ caught an old friend looking at him from the shadows of a bunk.

  Jack Turk.

  BJ controlled his contempt. He faked a smile and a slight nod. Jack had to believe BJ was still his boy, regardless of what he had begun to do. The prison had taught him some good lessons in a short amount of time. One of those lessons was to plan for a rainy day. The other lesson was that it was always raining. BJ could no longer afford to put all his eggs in Jack’s basket. Because he didn’t know if he could ever trust the man again.

  Chapter 6

  Warden Gorgon had been frustrated with the interruption. He felt exhausted and hoped to catch a brief respite from all the worrying and planning. More so, he needed a break after expending all his energy training the zombie army.

  Then came the knock.

  He had been somewhat pleasantly surprised to find one of his up and coming guards on the other side of the door. Initially, the Warden’s stomach sank, fearing Muncie’s attitude or Dr. Shipley’s whining.

  Instead, his visitor was Janie Gallant.

  Gorgon invited Janie into his office. The surprise caught him off guard. He realized his dress shirt was still unbuttoned with the tails untucked from his trousers.

  “Forgive me. I usually don’t have visitors. I was just...” The Warden trailed off, perturbed that he sounded like a nervous teenager making excuses. “What brings you here?”

  Janie stepped forward, handing the Warden the miniscule, folded note she had gotten from Diandre. He thought of cracking a joke about high school kids passing notes but quickly dismissed the notion. What about this woman is making me act so strangely? The Warden admonished himself once again.

  Gorgon read the note carefully. Twice. Then he turned the paper over to see if there had been more writing but he found the back of the note blank.

  “Bargaining. Why?”

  Janie remained at attention and fully stoic. Gorgon commanded her to be at ease. Janie softened, relaxed and answered the question.

  “The women are scared, sir. They are desperate to get on your good side.”

  The Warden chuckled. “You don’t have to call me, “Sir.” Before he could retract the words, the Warden clenched his right hand behind his back. He reminded himself to stop letting his guard down so much. He knew he was tired, but if he kept going soft in front of his employees then he would have a mutiny on his hands in no time
. Either that, or the inmates would be running the prison - literally.

  “I assume the death of Claudia Franchino caused the proper effect for D-Pod.”

  “Affirmative, sir.”

  The Warden had always liked Janie. She had been impressive as a new hire, willing to take on extra hours and do some less desirable details. Her beauty had never been lost on the Warden. Tall, athletic, professional and she had a cover model’s face. Gorgon allowed his eyes to dance along her figure as she stood before him. Thoughts began to enter his mind. Scenarios that had no bearing on their work. The Warden shook the nonsense from his brain.

  “Interesting. They are willing to protect you, among other things, in exchange for some advanced notice.” He mulled the possibilities over. “Perhaps this is something we can use to our advantage.”

  Janie appeared confused. “Sir, I am delivering you this message so we can act on the intelligence ASAP. Shouldn’t we be concerned about the implied riots and breakout?”

  “If you call me “Sir” one more time, Lieutenant Gallant, then I will feed you to the zombies.” His ill-attempt at humor visibly shook Janie. “I’m kidding. Sorry. I’m not good at jokes.”

  The Warden waited for Janie to show signs of relaxing. He went to the window and stared across the expansive fields. His mind worked through the next steps. He could use the intel to break the women of D-Pod, further forcing them to submit to his will. Maybe they would be better utilized as the mothers of the new world instead of enlisting them as zombie warriors. Or D-Pod could be used as a mass sacrificial lamb to teach the remaining prisoners that escape was impossible. A monstrous, visual deterrent for future ideas of standing up to the authority of the Warden. The women could even be used as a lure to root out the dissension in the other pods. Better to cut the head off the snake. The Warden had some decisions to make.

  “How imminent does this uprising appear?”

  Janie shrugged her shoulders. “Not sure but the prisoners understand that time might be short. I would expect something to happen sooner rather than later.”