SCHIZOMEGA: Zombies Made in the U.S.A. (Ian McDermott Paranormal Investigator series Book 3)

by David Aslin

  Ian looked up, “And, Jamal?”

  E didn’t say anything more. He just started once again slowly walking forward with his assault rifle at the ready position just like his two comrades-in-arms.

  Jamal kept his back turned away from Ian and E, he was guarding their rear as promised. He walked backwards just behind them. But it was growing darker for all of them, all except E.

  Realizing this E spoke, “Stop. Men, meaning you two. Ian, I grabbed a couple small flashlights back at the gun locker. I also picked up some duct tape. Hand me your rifles. Ian hadn’t seen E take the flashlights or the tape; but he knew very well that E could when so inclined, move at a speed that visually was little more than a blur in short bursts, and only covering short distances. Ian surmised that for a vampire or part vampire like E, to achieve hyper-speed motion, it must consume an enormous amount of suddenly expelled energy. Likely pushing it too far could prove dangerous even to a vampire. Ian supposed, Even super enhanced human’s or, whatever E is exactly, they too have their limitations.

  Once E had completed taping the flashlights onto the ends of the rifles he switched them on and handed them back to Ian and Jamal.

  “I ain’t say’n they ain’t badass but just how you see at all in this dark, with-em them shades on man?” Jamal said while staring at E.

  Ian quickly interjected, “He’s got an eye condition. His eyes are very sensitive to light. So much so that he can see almost better in low light, and even in near blackness. It’s a very rare condition. It’s called, um, it’s called, chronic hyper ocular illuminative disease.” Ian said trying to sound as convincing as he could.

  “You some kind of Doctor” Jamal said with a suspicious tone to his voice.

  Without hesitation Ian fired back, “That’s right. I am a Doctor, Doctor Ian McDermott at your service.”

  Jamal replied, “That splains why you didn’t want to off Emilio. And you were so fast ‘bout patching him up. Harm none and all that shit.”

  Ian looked directly at Jamal, “Harm none with the exception of zombies!”

  Jamal smiled, “You got dat shit right!”

  “The fact is, E’s conditions so rare, hell there are probably more werewolves and vampires in the world than people with his exact condition.”

  “Werewolves and vampires, shit. Don’t know ‘bout that, but we is up to our asses in zombies, dats for damn sure.” Jamal said half laughing at what he surmised was Ian’s attempt at making a joke.

  E, still with sunglasses on once again took the lead as the three men marched forward up the hallway. Ian was right behind E with his rifle-mounted flashlights light dancing with each step he took. Jamal continued to walk backwards, now like some kind of movie-star attempting for the first time to mimic the actions of a seasoned combat soldier on patrol.

  “I hope these batteries last in dese flashlights.” Jamal said just loud enough to be heard by his comrades. “I wouldn’t worry about that, they’re LED, very long-life and battery efficient. Besides the explosives are set to go off long before your light goes dead.” E said very blankly.

  “You know E, you’re just a bundle of encouragement.” Ian fired back as he shook his head side to side.

  “What? I only meant that, wait did you hear that?” E said.

  “Hear what?” Ian softly replied.

  “I don’t hear noth’n.” Jamal also said in just above a whisper.

  “Coming this way. From the rooms beyond this hall. Christ their stomping around like mice in an attic, you can’t hear them?” E said resonating a tone of frustration.

  “Oh, yeah, Jamal, his condition also gives him almost dog like, or perhaps better stated wolf like, sensitive hearing as well.”

  E turned around and even wearing sunglasses Ian could tell that he was being glared at. That he was taking his little jokes, his fun at E’s expense, too far.

  Jamal spoke up, “Yeah, I heard of dat shit E got befoe. Seen it while back on Public Television ‘er some such, shit.”

  Ian had to bite his own lip to keep from laughing. Not so much that what Jamal had just said was all that funny. Mainly as a release to all the frightened nervous tension that was welling up in him like a volcano ready to erupt.

  “I hope you’re ready for company ladies, because our guests are about to arrive.” E said as he slowly crouched down onto one knee. “Make sure you don’t start shooting each other. Jamal you keep guarding our flank. They’re coming towards us from behind as well.”

  Ian spoke up, “Like an orchestrated, a planned attack.”

  E replied, “Exactly!”

  All three men heard the door up the hallway slam open, and all three men heard the all-to-familiar moans and groans gasps, hisses and snarls as the horde filled their way into the hall. One after another after another they came from ahead of them. Jamal was nearly panicking that he hadn’t seen a one of them coming in his direction, not yet, but he could hear them rapidly approaching, still crossing the cafeteria. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

  “Wait, Ian not yet. Don’t fire at them yet. Remember three round bursts. Aim either at their heads or just to the left of their chests. We’ve got to flip their switches to off, and fast.” Ian was sweating scared. He could feel his heard pounding in his chest. At one point he had stress educed vertigo to the extent that he thought that he might actually pass-out, but that feeling soon passed. He was now beyond flight mode. He was on fight, big time, as he silently thought, You might take us, but we’re sure as shit gonna take a bunch of you miserable bastards with us.

  E was the first to open fire. He did exactly as he’d instructed Ian and Jamal. He let them have it three shots at a time, making almost everyone a money shot. Bodies were already starting to pile on each other as Ian joined in on the firefight for their very survival. He wasn’t as accurate as E, but E was none-the-less impressed by him. Sometimes Ian would take them out all at once. Sometimes he’s chop them down onto the ground or to their knees, but he never failed to quickly finish them off.

  Just when Jamal thought maybe he’d been hearing things and even considered making a run for it back into the cafeteria, here they came. At first Jamal, terrified, just hesitated. But just like Ian’s moment of doubt, it too passed for Jamal. There was nothing for him to do other than make his stand like a man. Jamal opened up, but not with controlled bursts, he was on full automatic. And it worked at least for the moment. He was racking up more kills faster than both E and Ian combined.

  Jamal rapidly fired his assault rifle in the direction of the cafeteria. Up and down and side to side, he sprayed lead spending rounds like there was no end to his ammunition. Blood, rotting flesh, and guts, spewed from the horde, painting the walls in a morbid tapestry as he screamed, “DIE MOTHER FUCKERS!”

  Jamal only paused for a moment to replace his rifle’s mag, before starting in again. Not aiming, just firing from the hip in the direction of the onslaught of flesh eaters. It was like he was in a zone, almost entranced, he knew of nothing other than to keep raining bullets down on the zombie parade.

  E and Ian utilizing a strategy of a much more economic use of their firepower were managing to hold off their half of the apparently living impaired mob. But due to the sheer numbers the anthropomorphic horde, the walking diseased slowly were gaining ground, they were closing in.

  Ian couldn’t believe that instead of his life flashing before his eyes, suddenly all he could think of was a twist on that Johnny Horton song that he hadn’t heard in years, We fired our guns but the zombies kept a coming… all the way from the gulf of Mexico.

  Ian continued firing his rifle leaving it set on semi-automatic. E deftly replaced his magazine and resumed firing. Suddenly there was an almost defining shrill shrieking sound. Seconds after the horde started slowly moving away from them back into the shadows. After moving out of sight it was then that both E and Ian spotted for no more than an instant off in the distance stood the one armed zombie inmate. The zombie horde had been comprised primari
ly of inmates with a smattering of guards and other assorted prison staff but this one, the one armed man, he was different than the rest of the wretched horde. It was instantly clear to both E and Ian that somehow the one armed man called the shots. All of the other zombies without exception, obeyed him. Not through words that they could tell, Ian silently surmised that, They must communicate by sound, grunts, what have you. And body language of that I’m certain. Much the same as higher intelligent animals do. These diseased people, these things, maybe their minds have been turned to oatmeal, but somehow they still, they still think. And this one, the one armed man, he’s more dangerous than…

  Ian’s thoughts were interrupted by Jamal’s scream, “I’m out man, I’m out-a bullets! Oh, shit man… OH SHIT!”

  E yelled back at Jamal. “I counted you only using two mags. Didn’t you grab more than that?” “Hey, man, I figgur’d dem thangs held like a zillion bullets man they was heavy man, so I’z only took…”

  Ian turned towards Jamal, “Here, take one of mine.” Ian tossed the mag to Jamal.

  E yelled, “I told you both to grab as much ammo as you could carry. Ian, how much does that leave you with?” Ian replied, “One more mag, but I’ve still got plenty of ammo for my two pistols.

  E nodded, “Okay. Okay, not bad. I’ve got an idea, a plan “B” of sorts. It’s for sure we’re not going to waltz out the front door as previously planned.”

  “Let’s have it.” Ian replied.

  “We gots ta do sump’n fast ‘er we gonna be ate, ‘er blow’d ta pieces. An den ate!”

  Ian hadn’t thought of that possibility as he silently thought about what Jamal just said, What if some of these things have gotten out of the building and are wondering around on the island. They’d likely survive the blowing up of the prison.

  “Jamal just said something that’s got me worried beyond our already kamikaze situation.”

  Jamal rapidly interjected, “Komi-crazy you ask me.”

  “Yeah, what’s on your mind?” E asked with a tone that indicated he genuinely wanted to hear Ian’s thoughts. Ian took a deep breath than replied, “Uh well, suppose for a moment that some of the zom’s, these things have managed to like you said, waltz out the front door? What if they’re wandering around the island? I’m worried that when the next shift change ferry-boat comes and well, that’s a pretty plausible gateway to the mainland don’t ya think?”

  E nodded in agreement as he replied, “You make a good point. Before any of us leave this island, we’ve got to at least check all the usual places and kill these bastards before they can infect anyone who might carry the infection back to the mainland. If that was to happen, well, it just can’t! We need to check everywhere that’s likely, places their memories might tell them are good typical places to head to. And you’re right Ian, at the top of the list more likely than anywhere would be the ferry dock. Not only would that be steeped in their memory as their coming and going point … to them that probably means incoming food as well.”

  The way he put it, sent shivers up and down Ian’s spine as he silently mused over what E had just said, That’s all we are to them, just food.

  The storms intensity was finally waning, coinciding with the sudden decline regarding the onslaught of marauding flesh eaters. Ian who was now covering their flank hadn’t had to fire a shot for a few minutes. Not since shortly after Jamal had fired his last bullet. It felt to them all that the zombies, like the storm itself, had fallen back and were regrouping. It seemed to the men that this was the eye of the storm, both metaphorically as well as literally.

  E spoke up, “Okay, plan B. Ian we’re going to work our way back the way we came. All the way back through the tunnel. We’re going to have to keep up a fast pace to make it. But, it didn’t seem that the concentration of zom’s was nearly as heavy as what’s lying in wait up ahead of us. And in that direction, we’ve already killed a good number of them. So, maybe there will only be pockets of resistance left, so to speak.”

  “What tunnel?” Jamal asked in an aggravated tone.

  “The one that got us here in the first place. An old tunnel that leads into the sub-basement. Down in the bowls of this prison … down where the monster makers, made these monsters.”

  Jamal was confused but held off asking any more questions as he thought to himself, Less I know ‘bout dis shit, da better, when da man come to vessagate, ‘en him ask all his quessions ‘bout what da fuck happen round here. Ain’t like day gonna bleive a nigger tell ‘em we fucked dis place up and everyone got killed ‘cause we was fighten zombies. Shit, I don’t ‘bleive dis shit myself. An white boy here’s an agent man, they probably dem Men ‘n Black dare white asses will juss disapear when da shit go down.

  E checked his watch. “We’ve gotta get a move on and now, to have any chance in making it out of this place before it blows sky high.”

  E took the lead as the three men headed back towards the cafeteria.

  “All right, double “O” seven it’s your show.” Jamal said as the three men started forward to the rear.

  Jamal nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt E’s crushing grip take hold of his throat. “Call me that again and it will be the last words that ever leave your lips!” E said in a low but emphatic to the extreme, voice.

  “E doesn’t like to be called anything, but, Ian interjected, but was interrupted before completing his sentence.

  “My name is, E!”

  “Sorry agent man, I mean, E. I didn’t mean nothing’ by it. Jeez, man!” Jamal said after E let go of him.

  “Your man’s been eat’n too much red meat.” Jamal said as he turned towards Ian.

  Ian silently mused as he slowly shook his head side to side, First that James Bond reference, than the crack about red meat. Oh, man, Jamal, ignorance really is bliss.

  The men were forced to literally step over the recently dispatched deceased as they made their way back down the hallway. The commissary was now less than twenty feet from E when three more anthropophagous ghouls, fast movers, came rushing straight at them. One held a human leg in his hand like he was going to use it as a weapon as he took the lead racing towards E and company. E set his assault rifle down, and kept his shoulder holstered PPK tucked away. He then assumed the commonly familiar right foot forward stance of a martial artist. His right hand was poised low and his left was positioned directly in front of his face. E then went to work. The three attacking cannibals didn’t even see what hit them. In what appeared to Jamal and Ian to be little more than a blur E struck the leg slinging man dressed in an orderly’s jumpsuit, with a flying side kick. He then took hold of the puss ridden, flesh rotting, brackish, blood dripping from his teeth, man by his chin and back of his neck. E then with one deftly powerful move snapped the wretched diseased man’s neck so hard that it nearly spun three quarters of the way around before he fell first to his knees, than collapsed like a limp rag-doll flat onto his face to the terrazzo floor. He flopped and twitched a couple times from neurons continuing to fire, but soon he became still and apparently lifeless.

  What E then did to the other two flesh-feasting attackers was simpler in actions but none-the-less impressive. E grabbed them both in front forward headlocks holding their heads by their necks in his arms. He then lifted them both up off of the ground then fell to his knees simultaneously breaking both of their necks.

  Jamal could not believe what he’d just witnessed. He knew no amount of advanced hand-to-hand combat training be it, Karate, Kung-Fu or anything of the like could fully explain the blazing speed that E could move.

  E picked up his assault rifle as he spoke. “We need to conserve what’s left of our ammo.”

  CHAPTER 23

  NECRAPHELIA A DEUX

  The three men stood at the doorway to the cafeteria. The first thing they all noticed was that the remains of the disemboweled janitor had been dragged off; leaving a greasy blood smear trail that led across the floor and exited the doorway located on the opposing side of the room.


  Upon seeing the bloody trail left by the corporeal remnants of the janitor. For the first time since their mission had begun, Ian became depressed, convinced that even with all of the skills that E possessed, considering their rapidly dwindling armaments, they had little if any chance to ever leave these prison walls before they soon would be tumbling done all around them in a fiery blaze of explosive decimation.

  It was then at the climax of his ensuing depression that he realized that they still just might stand a chance.

  “E.” Ian said.

  “Yeah, what?” He replied.

  “Have you already thought of what I’m thinking?” Ian said with a glimmer of hope resonating in his voice.

  “If you’re thinking we soon will once again be passing the gun locker, where we can re-up our ammo supply, then, yes.” E said commandingly.

  Ian, anticipated E’s reply to be spot on to what he just had realized. Ian figured it was probably the first thing he thought of when making the decision to back track. Ian knew that, E among his other specialized skill sets, had been and still to one extent or the other was still both a spy, as well as a commando. Ian knew that professional soldiers pay great attention to their environment; with intention of taking every advantage their surroundings may afford them. Even still, he was, none-the-less impressed.

  “Spot on!” Ian said with suddenly an almost happy tone to his voice. Jamal too smiled as he realized he would once again have fire power.

  “Understand, that’s our first priority, to get more ammo. But know, there can be many a slip between the cup and the lip.” E said, not wanting his two comrades to lose focus on where they were and the potential problems of getting from point here to point Ammo.

  E handed Jamal a magazine. “I’m not going to tell you this again. Dial your fire selector on your weapon to fire three round bursts.” Ian pointed out the selection switch. “If you don’t, Jamal I swear, I’m going to eat you myself!”

  Recognizing at the very least that E was dead serious, Jamal immediately did as instructed.