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

by David Aslin

  Ian couldn’t help himself, “He might not have actually eaten your flesh. But likely he would have made a withdrawal from your blood bank.”

  E spun around and faced directly at Ian. Ian was instantly terrified as he could almost feel E’s icy-burning stare even through his dark glasses. Then suddenly, E started laughing before he spoke. “Made a withdrawal, blood bank!” I swear Ian, you’ve got a set of balls.”

  There were times that both Ian and Jamal didn’t know which they feared more zombies or, E.

  “All right, let’s get a move on.” E said.

  The three men cautiously but briskly walked across the cafeteria up to the doorway that would head them back in the direction of the gun locker and onto the cell blocks.

  Occasionally they’d hear commotion from what seemed to Ian to be at fairly far off. Ian knew that E was hearing the same sounds and likely many others with much more clarity, and from much greater distances away than he and Jama could. Holding that thought, for a moment Ian actually considered asking E to bite him. Thinking maybe his only chance for survival was to become like him.

  The three men withdrew from the cafeteria and started trekking past various administrative offices, heading towards the room that housed the gun locker.

  Ian spotted the door that entered into the Wardens office. He’d heard something going on inside.

  “I’d leave that alone.” E exclaimed as he walked on past the office door and continued heading down the hallway. “No need to be killing what’s too busy to be trying to kill us. This place’s going to be blown to the ground along with everything inside, soon enough.”

  But curiosity got the best of Ian. He stopped following E and Jamal just for a moment to take a look inside. What he saw made him bend over and begin convulsing in dry heaves. A yellowy puss and dark bloody eyed, filthy, shaved head zombie was having sex on the Warden’s desk with a female zombie of equally decrepit features. One that not long ago had been a nurse; a nurse whose newly chewed and shredded neck, had become the focus of the male zombies feasting that seemed to keep time with his heaving pelvic thrusts, as he speared his bloody soaked phallus deep inside her again and again.

  Despite E’s warnings regarding ammo conservation, upon gaining enough composure to right himself, Ian switched his assault rifle to fully automatic then aimed his weapon at the back of the head of the male zombie. He then squeezed and held the trigger resulting in a torrent of exploding rounds that virtually obliterated the male zombies head sending decrepit contents splattering across the table and all over the face of his partner, an equally cannibalistic, coital confederate. Ian followed up by squeezing off three high cyclic rate bursts of twenty plus rounds into the face of the grotesque female recipient of the male inmates sub-human sexual, and meal time attentions.

  Ian attempted to regain his self-control by defaulting to his primary self-defense mechanism, ‘disassociation by humor’ as he silently mused. Talk about a hickey from hell.

  Ian was slowly walking backwards as he gently closed the door behind him. As Ian turned around he spotted E and Jamal who were waiting for him thirty feet up the hallway, motioning for him to hurry and catch up to them, which he did.

  “What da hell you do’n? You try’n to bring down all da goddamn zombies in da house on us?” Jamal said.

  “You heard. You knew exactly what they were up to, didn’t you?” Ian asked as he looked directly at E.

  “You wasted a lot of ammo. And Jamal’s right, you let every zom in the facility know we‘ve changed course.” E said as he turned his back on Ian and began cautiously heading towards the gun locker room. Jamal and Ian followed behind. Ian watching after their flank.

  Jamal shook his head murmuring, “Damn white boy’s start’n ta dig dis Rambo shit.”

  Ian turned around and quickened his pace. He passed Jamal and quickly got alongside E.

  Ian cleared his throat before speaking, “E. I’m sorry. It’s just for some reason I just couldn’t stand the idea of two, of those two things…”

  E suddenly stopped and turned directly towards Ian. Ian flinched, but didn’t even bother readying himself to possibly have to defend himself knowing that E could kill him at will. But what happened next was as far from what Ian had expected as it could possibly have gotten; E placed his right hand on Ian’s left shoulder and spoke in a soft voice, “I know. That was too much for anyone including myself. Had I been you and not heard, had I not known exactly what was going on and stayed the hell out, like I warned you I might add.” E tipped his sunglasses down and looked directly at Ian’s exposing his blazing supernatural eyes. “I probably would have reacted about the same, and blown those hell spawn the fuck away. I just would have used less ammo to have done it.” E said with only a slightly scolding tone in his voice. He then slid his shades back into place, turned and once again took the lead.

  Hearing E’s words helped Ian feel a little better about himself regarding how he’d reacted back in the Wardens office. Ian thought to himself as he sighed and shallowly grinned, I’ve been judging him. But, under these circumstances there’s nothing to be judged. E just does whatever’s necessary to get the job done, period. If Clayton really did once call himself, if he really was, Ian Fleming, then it’s all true. E really was, he really is the one and only, James Bond.

  CHAPTER 24

  MADNESS IS AS MADNESS DOES

  As they continued heading up the hallway all three men could hear all too clearly that the moans and groans had now become incessant, and were growing louder and closer by the moment.

  Ian began reflecting on how he now clearly understood why E had thrown the doctor into the cell with that zombie, marking his doom. And how he returned to the cell to shoot them, to put them out of their misery or at least his. It was all about doing what was necessary. E does have a compassionate side, he just can’t easily show it. He can’t let it cloud his judgment. A line from a movie suddenly popped into Ian’s head. A line from the 1992 film adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel, Dracula, We’ve all become God’s madmen.

  It was then while Ian was steeped in contemplation that it happened. They came from ahead of them as well as from behind; dozens of the infected had them almost instantly cut-off.

  The room with the gun locker was less than fifty feet ahead of them. E suddenly yelled out, “Both of you, get behind me and stay close. I’m going to, how do you yank’s say it, run interference. Ian, hand me your rifle and take out your pistols. When I give the word you start shooting towards our rear give them ever thing you’ve got! Don’t bother taking aim. Jamal stick to me like glue, I’m going to lay down heavy fire ahead of us. By god we’re going to make it to that gun room or be damned trying.” Both Jamal and Ian were speechless. It had all happened too fast for them to do anything other than what E had so commandingly yelled out.

  Ian quickly handed his rifle to E and pulled out both his shoulder harnessed and ankle strapped handguns. He then opened fired on the mostly slow moving walking dying.

  E set both rifles to fully automatic and with both rifles in his hands their butts tucked under his arms, he opened fire on the diseased horde, spraying lead from his machine-guns at every moving sub-human in their path. The machine-gun and pistol fire as it echoed throughout the stone hallway was defining. Ian and Jamal barely heard E scream out a rebel yell as he continued to chop down zombies center, right, and left, as the men rushed head-on into the rancid dead-eyed marauders; who flailed at them with their blood soaked filthy hands, and snapped and chattered their rotting flesh-filled teeth more like attacking barracuda. The mob of what not long ago had been typical human beings, were now anything but typical, they were carnivorous predators, nothing else.

  Due to E’s superhuman marksmanship and sheer tenacity, they were making progress with their goal-line blitz directly through the zombie horde, heading towards the doorway that represented their only hope.

  The two men ran closely behind E, nearly hurtling the falling dead and near dead. Jamal sud
denly felt an almost crushing burning pressure. Something had momentarily seized hold of his right ankle. Fortunately it neither tripped nor detained him, and he managed to break free almost instantly.

  Just as E had fired the last rounds of his assault rifles he dropped them to the ground and pulled out his sound suppressed, PPK. E rapid fired the remainder of his mag with less than ten feet left between the three of them and the doorway to the gun lockup. But there still were no less than twenty more zombies who’d joined their diseased brothers and sisters in the hunt for red meat. E holstered his handgun and began punching and kicking in every direction. To both Ian and Jamal it seemed like the more moves he’d make the faster he became until he was little more than a one man cyclonic blurry wrecking machine. The mangy diseased were flying from his superhuman blows in every direction, one after another. But Ian and Jamal soon observed that even E had his limits. Suddenly the two men could see plainly that he was beginning to slow down, obviously fatiguing. E was markedly running out of rocket fuel, jet fuel, or whatever it was that was powerful enough to propel a super-human.

  But before totally running his tank dry, E managed to plow his way through the flailing pre-corpses, over to the door and quickly open it. Ian and Jamal, like E before them, darted through the door into the room. Jamal slammed the door shut and Ian quickly dead-bolted it secure as he mused even in his near panic stricken state, Only good thing about this place is, the doors are heavy duty, and the locks are too.

  The three men could hear all too well the wretched mob that was building in size by the minute just outside the door, as they moaned, hissed, gurgled and groaned and made all sorts of primal sounds like a pack of starving sub-humans, and that’s what they were. They pounded scratched and clawed at it. All three men knew that even as strong as the door was, if the mob didn’t let up it was only a matter of time before the door jams would give way and they’d be trapped like mice in a cage. Not even E could take on more than a dozen of them coming at him, not all at once.

  “All right, damn-it man, juz what in da hell is you?” Jamal blurted out in a demanding voice as he turned directly towards E.

  E didn’t say a word, he just sat down in a chair adjacent to a small desk. One that had sitting on its top a notebook that said across its top WEAPONS/ARMAMENTS CHECK OUT LOG. E was still a bit short of breath but that’s not why he remained silent regarding Jamal’s question. E felt at this point no further words were necessary as he looked directly at Jamal. “What am I? You should be more careful Jamal. Sometimes when you stare darkness in the face … the darkness stares right back at you, isn’t that right, Ian?” E said as he slowly tipped his glassed down onto the end of his nose.

  “HOLY SHIT… YOU BE ONE OF THEM!” Jamal screamed out.

  “No… he’s not.” Ian said while shaking his head no. “He’s different, yes, but he’s nothing like those mindless creatures outside the door.” Ian said as he pointed towards the door.

  Ian looked at E and noticed that he wasn’t instantly snapping back from being tired. Not like he’d always done before.

  It was then that Ian realized as he looked directly at E, “You need food don’t you? Even not being a full-fledged, after expelling that much energy you require sustenance.”

  Jamal interjected, “We’z all hungry man. That don’t splain none a dat superman shit. And dem zombie eyes, man. Dat’s right, either he one of ‘em, or, he’s one dat turned out da way they wan’ ‘em all ta be. And you all sent here ta clean up da mess and leave no witnesses.” Jamal started backing away from E and Ian until he was leaning against the far wall, with no further way to go.

  E looked at Ian and spoke while trying to catch his breath, “I’ll admit all that did make me pretty weak.”

  Without saying another word Ian walked over to the still opened gun and weapons locker and retrieved a combat style knife. He then walked over to E. “You still got some duct tape on ya?” Ian asked in a low blank monotone voice.

  E replied, “Yeah, what’s your plan? You going to stab those things, then tape their mouths shut so they can’t bite.” E said managing to laugh slightly.

  Silently Ian held his left hand out then snapped his fingers and stood there with his hand open indicating for E to hand him the tape. Reluctantly E complied. Ian with the knife held in his right hand in one deft motion sliced his left wrist wide open and quickly shoved it in E’s face.

  Without hesitation and without uttering a syllable E took hold of Ian’s left arm and pulled his blood dripping left wrist across his mouth. Immediately he began powerfully sucking and lapping up the blood from Ian’s open wound.

  Upon seeing what was going on between Ian and E, Jamal who a moment earlier had been leaning against the wall, melted down onto the cold hard wood floor, “WHAT DA FUCK MAN! WHAT DA FUCK?” Is all he said before he began shaking his head and rocking back and forth.

  “Whoa there big guy!” Is all that Ian could manage to say as he jerked his wrist away from E. Ian was starting to become faint from blood loss.

  E continued to lick his lips and clean his bloody face for a moment before he spoke. “That was a very brave but very stupid thing you did for me. Lucky for you that you surprised me by pulling your wrist away so fast. You’re lucky I didn’t hold on and drain you dry. But thanks. I feel much better, stronger! Now give me that tape and hold out your arm. Don’t worry if I were going to… well…” Ian laughed as he replied, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’d be dead already!”

  E joined in laughing as he interjected, “Now you’re learning you crazy meat-sack.”

  Ian looked across the small room over at Jamal as he held out his arm. E immediately began taping it up. “What about him? He knows?” Ian asked blankly.

  “He doesn’t know shite!” E said without looking up from Ian’s wrist. “He’s more scared and confused than anything. What could he ever say to anyone that they would ever believe? The vampire and werewolf communities with little interruption, have since time immemorial successfully relied on you human’s arrogant belief that you are the evolutionary end-game of at least this planet. The truth is your kind is more predisposed to believe in little green men from Mars, despite all of the evidence that has been right under their noses for centuries. Who would ever believe in the fact that fantastic human nephilimic hybrid beings exists, and have existed since the very beginning. Since before Eve. Ever since Lilith shunned Adam and took on more demonically interesting mates. I tell you not a soul would or will ever believe a word he’ll have to say. Well, present company accepted. He’d be labeled a crazy. Now that said, you just better never even consider coming out of the proverbial closet regarding such matters lest the council disappear you and every person that you’ve ever cared for. Or worse. Turn you into an enigma like myself.”

  Even though he never said her name, Ian knew for certain that E was referring to Zoey.

  Ian nodded in agreement as he mused, Shit, who would I tell? Nothing in my life lately seems believable even to me. What I’ve seen and what I know only has its place in Clayton’s horror novels.

  “E, speaking of what you just said.” E looked directly at Ian as he quietly replied,

  “Yeah?”

  “Well you did drink my blood and undoubtedly mixed your saliva into my wrist. What I’m saying is…”

  E interrupted, “What you’re wondering is are you going to become like me. The short answer is, no. There’s never been a case of anyone becoming infected, being turned by a half vampire. The, whatever causes my condition, there isn’t enough concentrated let’s call it venom for lack of a better word. Your white blood cells will be more than a match to kill the invading cells or enzymes, whatever the hell causes. You get my meaning.”

  Ian in silent thought nodded his head indicating he understood, So much for my idea to become immune to zombie bites.

  “E, are you immune to zom bites?” Ian sheepishly asked.

  “How the hell should I know? I mean I’ve never, I’ve yet to be bitten, though I fea
r that claim is likely going to be short lived.” E replied trying not to sound like he was giving up on any level.

  Jamal finally stopped rocking long enough to speak in a shaky low voice.

  “This be it for shore, ain’t it?”

  The locked door was beginning to slowly cave from the shoving pressure. Structurally it just wasn’t capable of staving off the mobs flooding into the gun locker room much longer.

  Ian was busy grabbing-up as many weapons and as much ammo as he could get his hands on. But after a few uninterrupted moments of doing just that, he suddenly turned towards E. “I think it’s time we reconcile to the fact that none of us are getting out of this room alive. But, that includes those zombie bastards out there.” Ian pointed at the room’s one door, with the muzzle of an assault rifle. E got up and started helping himself to the ammunitions closet. As Ian watched E picking through the sizable arsenal, he mused, E’s like the deadliest kid in the world in a candy store.

  “Well, if this is going to be our Custer’s last stand…” E began to say, before Ian interrupted,

  “I prefer ‘Remember the Alamo’ if we’re sighting glorious final stands.”

  Both men smiled at each other. Ian took a deep breath and spoke, “E, since this looks to be pretty much the, well, like the end. I have one question. And silly as it may seem at a time like this, just say it’s my need or my want to know.”

  E looked at Ian, “All right Ian, since we’re both, since all three of us are about to suffer horrible deaths at the hands and mouths of diseased cannibals, I grant you one question that I will to the best of my ability answer truthfully.” Ian looked over at Jamal who was still seated on the ground nearly catatonic.

  “I know because of your, well, your situation. I know you’ve had to take on many names over those many years. But, what name, which one best fit who you are, or, who you wanted to be. Maybe I didn’t express myself very well?” Ian said as he slowly bowed his head and began to stare at the ground.