by Gayle Katz
“Sort of, but for something else. Basically, I need some dead reanimated bodies.”
“You mean zombies?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “But I need real zombies, not dead bodies, and not fake reanimated zombies like I was providing to Jaz to slow her down last month.”
“Oh, so that was you?” he asked. “I don’t know. It seems like any time someone has meddled in science, it’s resulted in a disaster for Portland.”
Zan paced the small closet. “So, are you going to help me out or what? I just need a small body part, maybe a finger.” She sounded annoyed.
“No,” he said. “Can’t do it. And what would Stewart say about this? Does he know what you’re doing?”
Great. Of course Stewart would back her up and be on board about the whole thing. “OK, so, the real reason is because I’m making drugs.”
“Hah! I knew it!” said Sergeant Bourne. “OK, I can’t bring anything to you, but I can tell you where we disposed of the zombies from that attack at the clothing factory.”
“Cool,” said Zan. “Thanks for helping me out.” She smirked.
zzz
Owen locked up the clothing factory’s front doors. The store beside reception was also closed, so he closed its front doors, and the one adjoining the reception area. Now what? Perhaps he could have a look around. He had only fifteen minutes left on the clock.
As he headed to the stairs, he thought about what he had found rummaging through papers, but put it out of his head for now. He walked down the stairs to the ground floor where the sewing machines were kept. On the floor were still about ten workers, sewing away.
Down here the air was damp and smelled a bit mildewy. It was that smell common to older buildings in most cities.
There was a supervisor overseeing people and he was walking past checking on everyone. One woman was glancing at her cell phone. “Put that away,” he said. “That line isn’t straight. Tear it out and do it again,” he told another one.
Many of the workers looked stressed out. A few weren’t dressed all that well. Owen was starting to get a bad feeling about this. Even though he was on the hunt for zombies, abused workers may be something else he could investigate. And since his parents were both lawyers, he may be able to ask them for some advice.
One thing was certain, Owen knew he didn’t want to be a tailor nor did he want to supervise them. Neither job seemed remotely appealing to him. He’d happily stick with his receptionist one for now.
While he felt like no one owned the world, unfortunately, some people were taken advantage of, in just these same types of jobs. But he didn’t want to get anyone in trouble. He decided to keep his mouth shut when the supervisor took a sandwich off another seamstress’s desk and tossed it in the garbage.
There was nothing to see here, so Owen waved at the supervisor, and then went back upstairs. He was curious about a small, red-painted metal door at the back, but he’d have to return some other time, perhaps tomorrow night.
Owen reached under the reception desk to grab his bag when he felt someone grab his arms and yank them behind his back.
“Hey! What’s up?” he yelled out, but instead of responding, the person dragged him over to one of the offices down the hallway.
Chapter 4
________________________________________
Sergeant Bourne sat in his unmarked, dark brown police vehicle, keeping an eye on the restaurant. Mayor Cote had gone in there with one of the other council members. He tried to think of his name. It was an odd one, like Mark Sparks or something. He picked up his smartphone and did a quick search. There it was. Mars Simms. What a weird name.
He hoped he had done right by giving Zan the location to find zombie parts. He knew she wasn’t really making drugs, but sometimes teens like to mess with the adults and he went along with it. It was best to keep Stewart’s team on his side, as between all of them, they had probably killed more zombies with their daggers than he had with his gun. The thing about killing zombies with daggers was that daggers did far more physical damage than one lone bullet could. Damage from a weak dagger thrust could slow down a zombie, but if you missed its head with a bullet, then you were screwed.
There was movement near the door of the restaurant. The council was probably done with their clandestine meeting. The couple came out of the restaurant. There was a third guy too, the owner of the clothing factory, Ray Mazola, or something like that. Orzola. That was it.
The three went their separate ways. Bourne could only pick one, so he chose to follow Mayor Cote. After she parked in front of her townhouse, he saw her go inside. Sure enough, five minutes later, Ray was right there.
He would have pondered why he was there but figured he already knew. But the main question was how much did Ray and the mayor know about the zombies, and were they involved in the latest outbreak?
zzz
“Hi, Zan,” mumbled Stewart, half asleep. “It’s midnight. What’s happening?”
“Sorry, Stewart. It’s just that Owen didn’t show up for our date, err, I mean, study date. He was supposed to help me with more translations.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I think that’s a dead end,” he said. “I think we need to go in a new direction. There is something in that book I don’t know, but I can’t figure it out.”
“Not that,” said Zan, becoming more worried by the minute. “I called his house and he didn’t make it home, either. I’m going to check out that clothing factory where he works.”
“OK, but stay safe,” he said, before hanging up.
zzz
Owen was forced to sit on a chair with his hands tied behind his back. His captor was the supervisor from downstairs.
“Wow, it appears there are many labor violations here,” he commented.
“Shut up!” said the man in coveralls. “I knew you shouldn’t have been hired. Way too nosy!” He grabbed a phone from his pocket and punched in some numbers. “Hey, some kid got too nosy. What do you mean, handle it myself?” He was about to put his phone away when one of Owen’s feet connected with his mouth. “Oof!” he cried, dropping to the floor.
“I don’t want your stupid job anyway!” said Owen, taking off. He made a beeline for the exit door, pushed it open, then turned back, and raced down the stairs. The guy would think he was outside when he really was sticking around. He heard the door slam shut behind him. He was right. The supervisor headed for the front door and not the stairs.
zzz
Zan smiled as she parked her car. She had a feeling she was going to be up close and personal with some zombies. She could see the light was still on in the clothing factory. She locked her car and headed up to the door. It was locked, but that didn’t stop her. But instead of picking the lock, like Charlie would have done, she pulled a small, ball-peen hammer from her backpack and smashed the window glass above the lock. Then, she reached in and unlocked it.
She walked right in. She ran into the supervisor in the hallway.
“Good luck,” he said, running to the door and taking off. He had a guilty look on his face. “I quit! I’m not a zombie herder!”
She shrugged and headed for the stairs. “Hello,” she called down the stairs. “Is anyone there? Owen? Are you still here?” In the distance, she heard the distinctive sound of zombies and smiled.
zzz
Owen headed straight to that mysterious red door he’d seen before. The workers were still working at the sewing machines, like they were chained to their desks. They were oblivious to him. The sounds of the sewing machines kept on going.
Owen turned the knob of the door, but it was still locked. That didn’t stop him. Charlie had taught him a thing or two. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bobby pin. He used it to pick the lock, and then opened the door. He pushed the door open and peered inside.
Inside were dozens of zombies. They turned and saw him. “Oh damn!” he cried, and turned and ran.
“Run for your lives!” he yelled t
o the factory workers, but they merely raised their heads and then went back to their work.
As he raced up the stairs, he belatedly realized that he had panicked and should have closed and locked the door before he took off. He stopped and peered down the stairs. It was too late.
The zombies were shuffling across the factory floor.
“Hey! Get out!’ he cried to the workers. But for some reason, the zombies were bypassing them, while the workers were continuing their work. “What the hey?” he exclaimed.
Then, as he peered down at the scene below him, he could see that the workers actually had their legs chained to posts in the ground.
“What? They can’t be zombies, can they?” he muttered, and then decided to run for it, as the zombies figured out how to walk up the stairs.
zzz
Owen reached the top of the stairs and raced for the front door. “Hey, Zan! Good, you’re here! I was looking for you! There are zombies here. Let’s go and hunt them!” He pulled his dagger from his bag and tossed the bag on the ground. He turned and ran back down the stairs.
Zan saw what he had done and shook her head. “That’s OK, Owen. You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”
Owen was annoyed that Zan had seen him run and took it out on the first zombie on the stairs. How stupid and embarrassing, acting like a coward, and she had seen it!
zzz
Sergeant Bourne watched as Mayor Cote and Ray Orzola left her house, their hair and clothes in a bit of disarray. It appeared that they had gotten ready in a hurry and had to make an important meeting.
When they left in her Corvette, Bourne drove behind them at a careful distance, always keeping a car length or two between his brown behemoth and the Corvette.
They seemed to be heading to where Ray’s clothing factory was located. That was strange. What work needed to be done at this time of night? And why did the mayor need to accompany him? He got that they were a couple, but this did border on conflict of interest for the mayor.
Bourne scoped out a parking spot to hide his vehicle, since he was a hundred percent certain they were heading to the factory. He had an uneasy feeling about it, but he wasn’t quite ready to wake up his partner and call for reinforcements just yet.
zzz
“Hey, Owen! Keep them down there! We can’t let them get out of the building! That guy who ran out left the damn door open.” Zan turned and raced back to the reception area to close and lock it. She was fairly certain that zombies wouldn’t be able to work out how to turn the deadbolt, but the business wasn’t safe from thieves with that big hole in the glass. Not that she cared about that too much.
She’d just clicked the deadbolt, when two people came up to the door. A man glared at her as he unlocked the door.
“What the hell? Did you break in here? I’m calling the cops. Jane, stay back. She has a weapon.”
“You dunce. There are zombies on the loose,” explained Zan.
The mayor pushed her way in. “You’re familiar to me somehow,” said Jane. “Oh, I know who you are! You helped fight off the zombies at the mall opening.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” said Zan.
By now, Ray had dialed 911 and was explaining the situation over the phone.
“Help!” yelled out Owen. At this point, he was nearly back in the reception area.
“Oh crap!” said Zan, watching as several zombies had followed him up the stairs. “Grab a weapon and fight!” she screamed at the couple. She raced toward the first zombie and took him down.
Owen brushed two zombie hands off his arms, and then plunged the dagger into the closest zombie. It quickly dropped to the ground. Then the next one raced at him.
While Owen was busy with the zombies, Zan ran up to the first zombie on the stairs and gave it a hard shove. It toppled down the stairs, taking out several others in its path.
That left only two zombies on the main floor. Jane had a dagger in her hand and quickly stabbed a zombie in the head. It went down. It wasn’t quite dead yet, so she had to stab it a few more times.
Ray took out the remaining zombie. “Oh shit! We have to get these zombies out of here before the cops come.”
“Yeah, dunce. Why didn’t you listen to me?” said Zan.
He looked apologetic. “Sorry, but someone broke into the shop last week and stole twenty jackets.”
“We could shove the rest down the stairs, then you and the mayor could fend off the cops at the door.”
“Good idea,” said Jane. “I’ll go meet them outside.”
They watched as Ray disposed of the zombies. He grabbed a rag and started cleaning up the blood.
“Isn’t it a bit odd that both the mayor and the owner have daggers on them?” asked Owen.
Zan shrugged. “It seems to be a common occurrence nowadays. Much like it used to be cool to carry guns. Now those are kind of useless against zombies unless you are good at shooting.”
“Hmm. I guess so,” he said.
They heard footsteps come into the factory. “So, that’s what the kids are up to tonight,” said a male voice. It was Sergeant Bourne. “I got a notification from dispatch that some kids had broken in.”
“That’s just a misunderstanding, Sergeant Bourne,” explained Ray.
“I’m so glad it’s just you,” said Jane. “I wouldn’t want to have to explain to the regular cops about the zombies.”
He walked over to the staircase and peered down. “It appears you have a zombie infestation here.”
Ray started getting nervous. “Yes, but it’s under control.”
Zan walked up to Bourne. “What I don’t understand is why there are zombies in the factory in the first place?”
“Suspicious,” said Owen.
“I have no idea,” said Ray. “This is the second time. Something is up. Say, where is Fergus? He’s the supervisor here.”
“Fergus, right,” said Jane, wandering around. “That guy gives me the creeps. Oh, Sergeant, you don’t want to go down there!”
Bourne looked like he was getting ready to head down the steps to kill the remaining zombies. They appeared to be organizing themselves and standing back up again.
“I’m fine,” he replied, “but can someone tell me why there are people chained up down there?”
Chapter 5
________________________________________
“Say what?” asked Ray. Jane let go of his arm and wandered over to have a look.
“That’s crazy! Who did that?” she exclaimed. “We must let them loose immediately! Hello, is everyone all right down there?” A few faces looked up, but most continued on with their sewing.
“That is so creepy,” said Zan.
“OK, let’s take out the rest of the zombies. Does anyone know where they came from?” Sergeant Bourne asked, as he pulled out his gun.
“I opened up a room down there and there they were. I forgot to close it after, errr, running,” Owen explained.
Zan rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Hey! What? We can now rescue those people!” he said to her.
Sergeant Bourne led the way, shooting the zombies in the head. It was much faster than stabbing them, but he had to be a good shot or else the zombies could lash out. Soon he had the staircase clear. Jane, Zan, Owen, and Ray ran down after him and checked on the workers.
“Can everyone stop working please?” yelled Ray. They stopped and looked at him. “I’m going to get everyone out.” He ran over to one of the rooms at the side and started rummaging around. “Got it!” he yelled, then raced back with large bolt cutters in his hands. He started freeing each of the workers by snapping the chains that held them.
Zan raced around taking down any rogue zombies, while Owen was able to pick the locks on some of the captives’ chains. Once they were free, they were instructed to stand on one side of the room.
Sergeant Bourne walked past them, then turned and walked past them in the other direction.
“Um, something is odd about these
people,” said Zan.
“I know,” said Owen. “It’s like they’re on drugs or something.”
Zan walked up and stood beside Sergeant Bourne. “It’s like they’re zombies, but I haven’t seen anything like this before.”
“Me either,” he said. “It’s like they don’t do anything but what they’re told.” He sniffed the air. “They have a faint whiff of decay.”
Owen walked up to look at the guy on the end. The guy turned his head and looked at him. Owen noted a faint glimmer in its eye. “Hey, Zan! Come and look at this guy. I’m no scientist, but is it possible they’ve been drugged with something to make them look alive and follow orders?”
Zan wandered over to have a look. “You’re right! I don’t know how they did it, but they did. Say, Sergeant, I think these guys need to be locked up.”
“I’m in agreement. Let’s get them in the back office.”
Soon they had the zombies safely locked up in the back.
“Wow, that’s crazy. No one is going to believe that zombies are working the factory,” said Zan.
“Well, that’s pretty clever,” said Bourne, “when you think about it. Say, where did Ray and Jane go?”
They peered around them. Ray and Jane came out of another office.
“OK, it appears that everything is under control here. I’m going home,” said Mayor Jane. “Bye.” She kissed Ray, and then headed for the stairs.
Once she was gone, Bourne turned and confronted Ray. “I don’t know what you and the mayor are up to here, but it seems mighty suspicious.”
“There’s nothing against using zombies as labor,” said Ray.
