The Nightmare Man: A Russian Zombie Novel

by Mick Franklin

  “I can’t believe we lost that fucking bastard,” said Ivan to his beer. “Then again, he had a motorcycle.”

  “You know, it’s the weirdest thing,” said Harley, “I saw these zombies with vests on.”

  “Well, they all dress differently. People are people. I saw two zombies in bondage gear the other day. Hah!”

  “Nah, man, it was like they had bombs in the vests or something.”

  Ivan put his feet down. “You mean like homicide bombers or something?”

  Harley nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, like that.”

  “How many were there?”

  Harley considered this. “A few. Maybe more. I see a lot through these binoculars.”

  “Where’d you see them?”

  “Near the river, mostly. Some were just outside here. You think I ought to say something to Andre?”

  Ivan put his beer down. He took out a stick of gum, removed it from its foil packet, leaned back in his chair so it was on two legs, put his feet on the table, and fed the stick of gum onto his tongue. He chewed a few times and then smiled.

  “No, why worry the man unnecessarily?”

  45.

  NOW …

  In the foyer, there was a tense standoff between The Bear’s men and the Mafia. The hunters and prison guards were dressed in simple clothing, often with at least some animal pelts on them. The Mafia were all about style, wearing sharp suits and extravagant jewelry. The Bear’s men huddled together, terrified of the Mafia who all had to be professional killers to have made it this far.

  Karl called out, “We don’t need to fight. The man who caused all this is nearby. I know you’ve lost some people. So have we. And it is all one man’s fault. Kirill.”

  Karl turned to The Bear, who stood with the spent rocket launcher at his side. “I told you I would kill him. Now, it is as good as done. Kirill does not have long left to live.”

  The Bear dropped the rocket launcher on the floor. It made a hollow metallic clang.

  “You did well. Really fucking well.”

  The Mafia guys studied the exchange between the KGB agent and the prison warden. More zombies were closing in.

  “Freeze, motherfuckers.”

  It was the Nightmare Man. He stopped in a doorway, blood drenching his clothes; he was battered but not defeated.

  Karl grinned wildly. The Bear registered surprise. Masha coolly turned her rifle to face Kirill.

  The Bear said, “Who the fuck are you, Kirill? We chased you across fucking Siberia and through a city of the living dead and you’re still alive.”

  “He’s almost dead now,” said Karl, still grinning. “The clock is ticking extremely fast. What have you got to say, Kirill?”

  Masha lifted her head away from the riflescope. “I’m going to shoot all your important pieces off, then I’ll leave you for the zombies to finish. My family will rest a little easier knowing the end was painful and terrifying for you.”

  Kirill was breathing raggedly. The large foyer had gone almost silent. The New Mafia and The Bear’s men waited, The Bear, Karl, and Masha ready to kill the Nightmare Man the moment he tried anything.

  The Nightmare Man held up a detonator.

  “If I let go of this, you’re all dead,” he said. “If you shoot me, you die.”

  Masha was about to laugh but then she looked around – they were surrounded by zombies, a large number of them wearing explosive vests. The Bear woke up to the danger. “Fuck. We’re surrounded.”

  Karl’s eyes were wide above his bleeding nose. All his arrogance had vanished.

  A young man joined Kirill, saying, “It’s all done. I’ve put explosives on the floor above. If the bombs go off, everyone in this room dies.”

  “You did a good job, Semyon. I’m proud of you.”

  “Would you like to fucking negotiate?” asked The Bear. He seemed curious rather than afraid. “Or are you just going to kill us?”

  Kirill looked around the room as if seeing it and all the people in it for the first time. He was pale. Breathing rapidly.

  “I’m sorry for the people I killed. Mistakes were made.”

  Masha brought her gun up in fury but did not fire. Her finger was curled around the trigger.

  Kirill continued, “All this … someone else is behind this. The wall around the city. The Spetsnaz outside the wall …those men served under me.”

  The Bear’s eyes widened.

  Kirill said, “We’ve all wronged each other in some way. Now we’re in a situation where if we don’t work together, then we all die.”

  “You can’t be forgiven,” said Masha. “It was my family you killed.”

  “I’m dead anyway,” said the Nightmare Man. “What does it matter if you work with me for a while? Together, we can find out why this happened.”

  Karl said, “You have got the upper hand here, but the moment we step out of this room, you lose control. We can kill you and not be afraid of your bombs.”

  “True. But if you don’t make a deal with me, then you die right here, right now.”

  The Bear said, “Sounds like a bargain to me! Let’s call a truce.”

  Karl slowly smiled, “Okay, I’m in. I want to get out of this room alive.”

  “I still want you dead.” Masha had not lowered her rifle.

  The Nightmare Man raised the detonator. “Only after we find out what is really happening here. Not before. Medved, take her gun off her.”

  Masha looked up to see The Bear suddenly beside her; he moved surprisingly fast for a man of such size. The barrel of her gun was seized in one giant paw, and she could not pull away. The Bear took the gun as though he was removing it from a child, saying, “Sorry, but if I don’t take your weapon, then we don’t even live for one more minute.”

  The Bear threw the gun over to Kirill. It landed at his feet.

  Kirill smiled tiredly as if seeing an old friend. He moved slowly and picked up Masha’s rifle. Even with all his injuries he still handled the gun with astonishing grace. Holding the rifle, he looked terrifying, a demon released into a city of lambs.

  “Okay,” said Kirill, his commanding voice freezing the entire room. “This building is compromised. Every zombie in Chelyabinsk is on its way here. We need to get our people out alive and find a safe destination.”

  “We still have vehicles,” said Masha, “and most of us are fighters.”

  The Rose Maniac took off her helmet. She was a beautiful young woman. Karl froze; he could not believe what he was seeing so he moved closer.

  The troops worked together now, securing weak points, gathering supplies into the vehicles that were left. There was an uneasy sense of unity now, the common knowledge they were all in this together and had to co-operate or else none of them would survive.

  Karl could not take his eyes off the Rose Maniac.

  She was his sister, Rhyza.

  No one saw the tears falling down Karl’s face, crying because his sister was one of the Mafia. For long moments, he watched her. Then he wiped the tears away and began to help everyone else evacuate the building.

  Anton was still in the bar where the Nightmare Man had left him. He had hidden from a group of zombies that had staggered by, crouching behind the bar, holding the Nightmare Man’s knife as though it were a crucifix that could repel vampires. He worked hard to control his breathing. Sweat rolled down his face. He could hear them, the living dead, bumping into things and knocking a painting on the wall down. The crash was lost in the sound of gunfire somewhere else in the building. Finally, the ghouls passed without incident. Anton waited a few more moments then stood up. For a second, he met his own eyes in the mirror behind the bar, frightened but determined.

  He looked at the knife in his hand. It was only then he realised how tightly he was gripping the handle. He willed his hand to relax.

  His eyes floated to the bar again. The alcohol could be a potential weapon; he could fashion Molotov cocktails out of the bottles if he had to. Further consideration made him re
ject this, however, because although he could set a few zombies alight the likelihood of the fire spreading and endangering everyone else in the building was high.

  Leaning on the bar, he got his breath back. He could not believe how much the adrenalin robbed him of oxygen.

  Footsteps. Anton froze, but he registered straight away that these were not the uncoordinated shuffling steps of a zombie, but rather two people running down a corridor. Part of him screamed at himself to hide behind the bar again, to be safe. The more logical part of himself reasoned that since it was two humans approaching, he had nothing to fear.

  Two men entered the room. One was overweight, long frizzled hair spilling down his shoulders; he looked like a biker. The other one wore a tank top and was obviously in fantastic physical condition. The two men paused, regarding Anton.

  The well-built guy approached Anton. “Greetings, brother.” He had his hands wide to show there were no weapons in them. “We come in peace.”

  Anton was frozen to the spot; he knew something was wrong with these two men but he did not act. Out of politeness.

  When he was almost standing next to Anton, the fit man threw out a left jab. Fluid, fast. Like a snake. The stone fist caught Anton in the jaw, rattling his brain, and he fell down. He was barely conscious.

  “Nice shot,” said the fat man, “I heard that Kirill went this way.”

  “Sure, we can go after him,” the well-built man crouched effortlessly beside Anton, “but do you want to have some fun first?”

  The fat guy grinned. “Hell, yeah!”

  “Alright!” The well-built man grinned back. It was as if the two men were best friends.

  The well-built guy was speaking into Anton’s face. “You know, I used to be a boxer before all this happened. That’s why you never saw my punch coming. Funny, huh? It was a good life.”

  Harley checked his machine gun. The mechanism was loud.

  Anton carefully looked to where he had dropped the Nightmare Man’s knife. It was within reach, but he knew the boxer could move with incredible speed, so he couldn’t go for it yet. Maybe when the boxer was distracted somehow he could go for it.

  Ivan cradled Anton’s jaw in one hand, gentle, almost tender. Anton wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt him. Suddenly, Anton’s vision exploded into light. The noise was very loud in his head. Terrifying. He had been punched again.

  “Do not go for that knife, comrade,” said the boxer. It had caught his attention now so he leaned over to pick it up from the floor. “Hmm, this is really well made. I think I’ll keep this.”

  He looked back to Anton. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  Anton cringed, expecting to be punched again. “No, it’s fine, it’s all yours.”

  Ivan waved the knife at him for a moment. “Thanks.”

  Harley stood over them both now, machine gun resting on one hip. “I want to punch him till his eyes pop out.”

  “Well, before we do that, help me get his trousers down.”

  “No!” cried Anton, trying to get away.

  Ivan caught him instantly and punched him in the head again. “If you do what we say, then you will still get out of this alive.”

  Harley ignored Ivan, unbuckling his belt buckle, “I’m going to fuck you then kill you.”

  Ivan looked bemused. “Come on, man, I just assured him nothing too bad was going to happen to him, and then you have to go ahead and give the game away.”

  Anton trembled on the floor.

  There were footsteps and someone else came into view. A strongly built woman, she looked as though she would be well suited to ploughing fields. She stopped when she saw the two men looming over Anton.

  “Ah, The Dentist,” said Ivan. “How about it, deyushka, you want in on this?”

  The woman paused before answering, “No, I don’t want to help you do what you want to do here.”

  “Hey, don’t be like that,” said Harley. “We’re just having some fun. You know, you got to do that, or you’ll crazy here in the apocalypse.”

  “Not my cup of tea,” said The Dentist.

  “So, what are you going to do? You going to try to stop us?”

  The Dentist had a gun in her hand. She looked at it as if just realising it was there, “No,” she said at last, and began to walk away.

  “Please!” Anton called out after her, but she didn’t look back. Ivan flung the Nightmare Man’s blade so it struck the floor, embedded. He kneeled on Anton, using one knee to drive his face into the floor.

  “Shut up, you fucking worm, you’ll bring every zombie here –”

  The Dentist screamed and all three men looked up sharply to see what was happening. As The Dentist had stepped through the door, a zombie had leapt upon her. It moved fast, not like the vast majority of slow zombies that were easy to outrun. She would have heard it coming if it wasn’t for the gunfire nearby.

  The zombie was wrapped in barbed wire. Its eyes shone. The Dentist’s neck fountained blood as she sank to the floor. A group of the barbed wire zombies filled the doorway, growling, eager to rip the three men to pieces.

  Harley steadied his machine gun. “Got it,” he said, almost bored. He checked the mechanism on the gun. Ready to rock ‘n’ roll.

  The burst from the gun caught the first zombie in the chest and then Harley corrected, aiming slightly upwards to perforate its skull. The thing shook violently, then its peers cast it forward and trampled over it. The next zombie met a similar fate; its head turned into a target board and the wall behind it was smashed with holes.

  Anton was paralysed on the floor. He lay behind Harley, the knife stuck to the floor within arm’s reach. The fear was there, again.

  It always was.

  Ivan was watching the show with interest, seeing his best friend gunning down the zombies. So it came as a complete surprise when Anton’s fist smashed into his jaw. There was very little substance to the punch – it was a beginner’s punch – but his attention had been focused elsewhere and it was enough to dislodge him from pinning Anton down, leaving him stunned on the floor while Anton scrambled for the knife.

  Two more zombies fell to Harley’s machine gun. His teeth were bared. Scanning for targets.

  The knife plunged into his side.

  “What the hell –?”

  Harley turned, gazing in astonishment. It was that piece of shit Anton who had stabbed him. That born victim who had just lay there and taken it while Ivan had battered him.

  “You?” Harley’s eyes were wide. Anton was still on the floor, breathing raggedly. The knife was stuck in Harley’s side.

  The machine gun came round, pointed at Anton’s head.

  The zombies reached Harley first. The spray of bullets that should have decapitated Anton instead went inches to the side of his face as the zombies caught up with Harley, biting him, tearing into his body. As he screamed and turned, he fired the machine gun, a blazing hail of bullets ripping up the floor. Ivan came to his senses just in time, kicking away from the bullets and covering his face like a boxer.

  Harley was still on his feet, the zombies to the back of him. His large size made it difficult for him to reach behind himself to dislodge the monsters.

  Anton got to his feet, running toward Harley and the zombies. For a moment, he locked eyes with one of the zombies that had its fangs buried in Harley’s neck. The message in its eyes was very clear – Anton was next.

  He grabbed for the machine gun, but even being eaten alive, Harley refused to give it up. That just left the knife in his side. Anton reached for it and took it out. He held the blade up. He had never been in so much as a fist fight before.

  The zombies tore Harley around and he saw his death coming. He was taken to the floor by the weight of the zombies pressing down on him.

  Ivan was back in charge of himself now.

  “You’re fucking dead. I’m going to stab you in the neck and leave you out for the zombies to play with.”

  As he reached out for Anton, he suddenly pulle
d back – Anton had tried to cut him with the knife.

  Ivan laughed. “You are the first person who ever fought back. Usually people are terrified of me.”

  Anton got to his feet. His nose was bleeding. He was scared. But he was alive.

  Ivan was circling him, light on his feet as if this was a boxing match. A zombie leapt on him and he was taken to the floor, pinned. Years of being focused on his boxing opponent in the ring had left Ivan blind to an attack from anywhere else. He was face to face with the snarling muzzle of the monster that wanted to bite his head off. He fought it, but its writhing energy kept him down.

  Across the floor, Harley rose the machine gun one last time. It took the top of the head off the zombie. Even as it was destroyed, it still tried to reach Ivan, black blood pouring out of its mouth and splashing into his face. He punched it in the jaw and threw it off him, on his feet in a second.

  He saw Harley with three zombies on him. Anton was still there, looking scared out of his mind but still holding the knife.

  “Time for Plan B,” said Ivan, reaching behind him and taking out a small pistol from the waist of his trousers.

  Anton was convinced he would be gunned down where he stood but instead, Ivan pointed the gun at Harley. “Sorry, brother, I’ll see you in the afterlife.”

  He fired once and ended Harley’s misery.

  When he turned back to Anton, the young man finally began to run. Ivan fired at him five times as he fled to the same door the monsters had come from. The gun clicked dry as Anton escaped.

  Ivan looked to the floor again where the zombies were devouring his dead friend. He wiped his face again to get the black blood off it. There was nothing more he could do here.

  He fled.

  They fought under the leadership of The Bear and the Nightmare Man, both men well experienced in warfare. Now the New Mafia fought alongside The Bear’s men, holding the zombies back. Rhyza used her sports car to deliver people safely from the Tank Academy, always speeding back to rescue more people. Masha the sniper provided covering support, picking off any zombie that threatened to get too close to one of the defenders or to one of the escaping vehicles. The twin anti-aircraft guns tore through the zombie crowd, ripping them apart like invisible hands plucking at dough, but it seemed there were always more zombies to surge forward and take their place.