by Michael Todd
Dan cleared his throat. “No. Uh, the Death Dogs were taken over by the third in command. He hadn’t been on the team with Sarge. The second was Alvarez, but he didn’t make it out of the Zoo. Of course, we know who the first was. The operation isn’t quite run like it used to be.”
Holly didn’t get it. “So, what? They don’t go looking for Pita anymore? I know the market has dwindled, but it’s still a decent living. The companies haven’t figured out how to get it without hiring mercenaries. No person in their right mind would do it on salary. They would get cheated out of thousands.”
Dan was about to say something when JB cut him off. “Holly, do you get it? I mean, do you really get it? Going into the Zoo is a lifelong commitment, even if you only go in once. It stays with you forever. When you decide to step into that jungle, you are agreeing to give up a lot of things. You can’t love when you enter the Zoo. To love when you go in there, even yourself, you are teasing death. You are asking it to bend you over and fuck you in the ass without any lubricant.”
Holly scowled. “That doesn’t sound nice at all. So, what? Everyone that goes in is single?”
JB shrugged. “Or they don’t come back out. Their minds work differently than someone only in it for themselves. Especially when you walk in there with your lover. You may think you can step away from your feelings, but there is nothing like watching the person you love most be torn apart right in front of you. You are helpless and angry and if you don’t die there, something inside of you will. Gabrielle did it three times, and on the third, she lost her own life. By that point, I think she was so hollow that she was glad to finally be at peace.”
“But she had plans.”
JB smiled. “Dreams. It was talk. It was a nice thought when going into the Zoo. I don’t know if Gabrielle could ever leave that life behind. She might have lasted six months, or even a year, but there were voices in those woods that called to her. Some sick siren song she couldn’t resist. She needed to feel the rush of the Zoo, smell the dirt, see the colors of the leaves. Battle the things in there, too. That was part of it. It was who she was.”
Holly slumped. “You’re saying if you are in this business long enough, and you survive, there’s really no getting out.”
JB pursed his lips. “Some of us do actually retire, but we are the normal ones. We were never really cut out for it. We’re the ones that made the runs with our eyes half shut. People like Gabrielle took it all in, breathed it, lived it. They were the ones that were destined to be taken by it.”
“I don’t know. It sounds like a lot of hocus pocus. Like the Zoo, as a whole, is its own being.”
JB looked down at his hands. “It works like one. But the Death Dogs, to answer your question, did continue on. They were successful, too. They are still one of the most sought-after mercenary companies for R&D supply. Out there, it’s like gold-digging. You hope for the big one, you hope to hit a motherlode, but you never really know what you’ll find. Some people seem to be luckier than others.”
Holly tilted her head. “Like who?”
JB breathed in deeply. “Like the Heavy Metals, for instance. See, the Death Dogs work independent. They haven’t grown into working for corporations. Sarge always hated that idea. She thought it was a waste of time and it made people dangerous. The greed gets to people. People tend to do stupid shit when faced with that kind of thing.”
Holly nodded. “And Heavy Metal?”
JB shrugged. “Salinger built them. He was a kid. I guess they thought he was a doctor or something. Got brought out here by accident and sent into the Zoo. By the time he came out the first time, he was already ready to go back in. He did some runs and eventually started his company with one of the badass mercs, Madigan. But they got huge; real big. They are well above Death Dogs league. The Dogs stayed small but strong. They did what Sarge set them up to do, and they never looked the other way.”
Holly looked over her shoulder. “Do people want to work for groups like Heavy Metal?”
JB snorted. “Oh, yeah. They take care of their own, they always have work, and they make a good amount of money. When you don’t have to freelance your jobs, it’s really fucking nice. But they are pretty selective. You have to be cream of the crop. They haven’t lost many people in their time, and there is a reason for that. They are experts. Professionals. They don’t take crazy chances, and somehow, those sonsofbitches always find a path right to the Pita. They say Salinger has a sixth sense for it, like he is some kind of Zoo morph. Like it talks to him or something.”
Holly chuckled. “Or maybe they figured out how to track the Pita somehow.”
Dan pointed at her. “I’ve been saying that for years. But people like the whole idea of him being some sort of Zoo god. One with the goop, sensing the Pitas.”
Holly smiled. “People like to believe there is something out there greater than themselves. They like to be sensationalized. They like to tell sad stories, but point to beacons of hope and prosperity. It’s what drives them. Not just the Trout-type hero stories, but the sad ones, too. People will listen to them as long as they are told.”
JB cleared his throat. “Well, sometimes it’s important to tell them in order to keep the legend alive. Sarge deserves that recognition. Just like her men.”
Holly narrowed her eyes and watched JB. He nodded at the picture of Sarge. He grabbed a half-empty bottle of whiskey and poured himself a shot. He lifted the glass to her picture then threw it back. He replaced the glass and the bottle, lost in his own thoughts again.
She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Joe wasn’t really Joe at all. She wondered if JB was actually Gabrielle’s third lover. It would make sense. He was about that age. He had been a Devil Dog at some point, or at least he seemed like he had been. She could see it in his eyes. There was a sadness there that she would recognize on anyone. He owned a bar called FUBAR, something that Gabrielle and her lover were planning on doing when they left the Zoo for the eighteenth time. It was something she never got to do.
Everything in Holly wanted to ask him about it, but he hadn’t offered the information on his own. She figured it would be rude to pry. She figured if he wanted her to know, he would have told the story that way from the beginning. She figured she would just have to go on wondering.
After a few minutes, JB snapped out of the fog he was in and took a deep breath. He smiled and leaned on the bar. “So, what do you think about that drink?”
Holly finished it. “You know, I have to admit it. I like the damn thing a lot more than I thought I would. I’ve never had anything like it before. Plus, it was a nice break from my normal vodka soda.”
JB wrinkled his nose. “Vodka and soda water? We ain’t got soda water out here, but vodka water? That sounds boring as shit.”
Holly laughed. “Yeah, well, when you take a grape flavored vodka and put it in soda water it’s like grape soda. I used to drink raspberry vodka in sweet tea back in the States. It always seemed like a pain in the ass for the bartender, so I switched it up a bit. Then I moved over to whiskey for a while, dabbled with gin, and ended up back with vodka.”
JB smacked his lips. “I guess you like what you like. Maybe next time I’ll try it with a little Skyy.”
JB rubbed his beard and studied the liquor on the wall. “Yeah, next time we’ll hook you up with something you are more familiar with. If you like vodka, I won’t stand in your way. The shit makes me grumpy when I drink it, so I tend to stick with whiskey.”
Dan came back from the bathroom and sat down on his stool. “That was one hell of a story. Thank you, JB. I have to admit it’s been a long time since I heard you tell one.”
JB took Holly’s empty glass and washed it in the three-compartment sink. “No one really seems interested in the stories anymore. The young guys come through here with a vague idea of who the Death Dogs are, and think they know everything. It’s like a tourist town now. Faces come and go all the time. It’s not like it used to be. We used to have the same
faces here for months at a time, with a few stragglers coming and going in between.”
Dan nodded. “I know what you mean. Half the time I don’t even know who is living next door to me. There’s no use in getting to know them. Most times they are either one and done, back on their planes, or they are killed in the Zoo.”
Holly shook her head. “After all these years, the Zoo still takes people that often? I thought by now that the technology would have surpassed whatever was out there.”
Dan chuckled. “You remember the beast in his story? The one that didn’t have a heat signature?”
“Yeah,” Holly replied.
Dan gazed into his drink. “We are in an arms race with these animals. Just when we think we are a half of a step ahead of them, they leap three steps ahead of us. It’s crazy. They are evolving faster than we can develop new technology. There are at least four species out there that can completely hide their heat signatures. We’ve come up with some sort of cellular-level detector, but it won’t be long until they can change their cells where they stand and avoid that, too.”
Holly bit the inside of her lip. “Are we any closer to figuring out the cures for diseases, helping the environment, any of those things?”
JB nodded. “Oh yeah. I hear there are some serums out there. Then again, getting the goop takes time. And skill. And bodies. They can’t harvest it on a large scale, which means they aren’t manufacturing any cures on a large scale. They charge rich-man prices. Us poor folk get the shaft. It’s all about the money.”
“Well, this was really informative, Mr. JB. Hell. It’s early in the day. I don’t have anywhere to be.” Holly slapped a twenty onto the bar. “I came here for a story, and I was lucky enough to wander into this bar when I got off the van. How about you pour me another one of those drinks, get comfortable, and tell me another tale?”
JB’s eyes glistened. A slow smile spread across his lips.
Author Notes - Michael (Todd) Anderle
December 11, 2018
THANK YOU for not only reading this story but these Author Notes as well .
I am sitting at my desk in Las Vegas, Nevada (USA) staring at my laptop wondering how I should type these Author Notes? I usually have a structure, but this time I don’t know how to structure these notes because this is the very first time some of you will have EVER seen one of my books.
Although I’ve published hundreds. (LMBPN is my publishing company.)
So, do I say who I am, or just chat a moment about life, or talk about the future of the ZOO?
Good, I’m going for what’s behind door number three and skip talking about me for the moment.
This story is only one of a lot of titles rolling out about the ZOO.
The series, Soldiers of Fortune and Fame, will be a minimum of twelve titles publishing weekly. We are going to produce them in Audio and publish them as a podcast for free before we pull them and place them wide for purchase.
Eventually, if the fans want it, we will have a ZOO Facebook page and other places to chat about ZOO stories. I can guarantee that there will be a large number of stories.
If you would like to suggest anything ZOO related, please send emails to [email protected]. That email will (eventually) get to me and/or Stephen Campbell.
What I can’t guarantee is that you will like every one of these stories, and that’s ok. Some of the stories are shorter, some medium-length, some long. Some might have explicit sex scenes, and some (like this series) don’t.
We have Colonel Jonathan Brazee and Sci-Fi Author Ell Leigh Clarke working on series with me right now—although none of those books are ready to be published for a couple of months minimum.
Some series might need an ‘R’ rating for the sex, others won’t. Some authors might be from foreign countries where we have to translate their stories to English.
However, for now, just realize that the ZOO is like an iceberg. What you see is just the tip, and MORE is on the way.
A lot more.
No matter what store you purchase your eBook from, LMBPN Publishing is working to publish a title a week about the ZOO.
Just like Holly, we are going to keep asking questions. And, eventually, we might find out if mankind can learn the secrets of the ZOO, and prepare a kickass reception for their return.
HEAVY on the kicking part.
We know enough to believe…
They will be coming back.
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael Anderle*
*Michael Anderle has over three hundred titles out under his name, his pen names and with collaborators in the Sci-Fi, Paranormal, and Urban Fantasy genres. He published his first book Death Becomes Her in November of 2015.
Nobody Lives Forever
Soldiers of Fame and Fortune Book One
Chapter One
The sun had only just peeked over the horizon, and it was already hot. Holly stood on her balcony cradling a cup of coffee in both hands. Coffee was her savior. Until she had her first cup, it was best not to talk to, touch, or even attempt to joke with her. In fact, she had been so worried they wouldn’t have coffee this close to the Zoo that she had smuggled in four pounds of her favorite brand. Luckily, the French side agreed that coffee was life and her little hotel served it in the lobby every morning.
The sun was rising over the buildings and for a moment Holly imagined she was back in time, living in a frontier town before the Old West had been settled. She could almost see herself in a floor-sweeping dress, struggling to breathe in a corset like a proper lady. This illusion was shattered when a squad of NTVs and NLTVs roared down the road, blowing sand and dust into the air. Every vehicle had been juiced up and mutated to give it a post-apocalyptic feel. Armor-plating, gun turrets, and jagged spikes had been attached wherever they could find the space for them.
Most of the drivers wore leather goggles to keep the sand from their eyes. Their clothes were torn and tattered, and their bodies were beaten by the hot Sahara sun. The men’s faces were covered in dirt, the skin around their eyes two shades lighter due to their goggles. Some had beards, but most had the heavy five o’clock shadow that came from not being able to shave for days on end. They looked tough, and most lived up to their appearance. From what Holly had heard, the Zoo was no place for the weak of heart or mind. Then again, a lot of the men and women Holly had met wouldn’t exactly pass a psych evaluation with flying colors, either.
She yawned and stretched, still holding her coffee in one hand. She hadn’t slept well. Specters of the stories JB had told her had visited her in the night. His descriptions had been so vivid that the Zoo had invaded her dreams. She woke once with a start, sure she could feel the breath of a malformed man-eating jaguar on her neck.
Her mind wandered to the Zoo. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to sleep in a tent there or close her eyes in a place that dangerous. What was it about the goop that made corporations pay so highly? They offered enough to convince men to risk their lives for the stuff, and when those men died, the corporations convinced the next wave of fools to do the same damn thing.
Mortality—it was one of those things you couldn’t outrun. The human cell was flawed, programmed to die, to break down and break away. Holly knew the human race would continue on its present course forever, the wealthy paying the able to get them what they wanted. It would probably be that way until there wasn’t a speck of land left outside of the Zoo.
She shook those thoughts from her head and sat down in a partially-rusted metal chair on the balcony. It squeaked as she settled her weight on it. That made her wonder who had relaxed on the balcony before her. Were they alive? Did they go into the Zoo? She took another sip of coffee. Her phone buzzed on the short end table. She willed the thing to stop, but it buzzed again and Rod’s business profile picture flashed on the screen.
“Isn’t it, like, two in the morning in New York?” Holly asked.
Rod chuckled. “It is. Very good. And it’s about eight where you are, right? I’m surpr
ised you aren’t out scouring the town trying to find answers.”
“I’m researching a job, not trying to find out who killed Ms. Crumbles in the kitchen with a wrench.”
Rod yawned in her ear. “Yeah, I suppose eight in the morning is a bit early for the bar.”
Holly scoffed. “Around here, I wouldn’t be surprised if the people from last night were still there, fighting a hangover the old-fashioned way—by staying drunk. I’ll get there, but I have a bit of work to do before I start drinking. I have to admit, I am getting some pretty incredible information from this one place in town. The bartender or owner or whatever he is, he’s…well, different.”
“Uh oh, did you go all the way out to the desert to find yourself a new man?”
Holly rolled her eyes. “Please, you think because I’m a woman that’s what’s on my mind? No. He tells stories about the Zoo. They are real and raw. You can see it in his eyes—he has seen some shit. I only wish everyone were as honest and open about their experiences as he is.”
“Well, the longer you stay out there, the antsier they get back here. It would be nice if you eventually came back to New York. Or you could take the job and get it over with. Either way.”
Holly sipped her coffee and leaned back. “I’ll come back when I’m good and ready. If they give the contract away? Oh, well. It’s not like I’m dying to go in there. If I do, I might die.”
Rod scoffed. “Like they would take the contract away from the Queen of the Jungle.”
“Is that what they’re calling me?”
“No, that’s what I’m calling you. I’m sitting here in my nice office imagining you in a Jungle Jane outfit.”
