Serial Killer Z: Shadows

by Philip Harris

  “Thank you,” Ryan said. He led Sara out of the room.

  I thought about trying to insist they let me go look for my family but thought better of it. As far as I could tell, Faraday still hadn’t worked out who I was, but he was suspicious. I needed to stop drawing attention to myself.

  The captain stayed behind while the rest of us went outside. I could hear him talking to Jefferson, but the words were indistinct.

  Ryan and Sara stood a few feet away. Ryan’s arms were wrapped protectively around Sara. He stared at me with an expectant look on his face. I ignored him and walked a few paces in the opposite direction.

  Beyond the chain-link fence lay a wide, six lane road that cut through the center of the city. There were no vehicles traveling along it that I could see. Nor were there any parked along the sides. The street was cleaner than I’d ever seen it. There was no sign of the litter and other debris that I would have expected to pile up once things like garbage collection were supplanted by the desire to stay alive.

  A group of five people turned a corner onto the street. A long-legged man in a suit walked along in the middle of the group, his arms draped across the shoulders of two equally tall women. One wore a tight, scarlet dress that ended just above her knees; the other had a longer but just as snug blue dress. Both of the women tottered along in startlingly high heels. Two more men, also in suits, flanked the women.

  All of them looked to be in their early twenties. They laughed, the sound and the carefree way they strolled down the road incongruous in the post-apocalyptic ghost town they were traveling through. They walked another couple of blocks, then turned out of sight. One of the girls cackled, the sound echoing back to us from around the corner.

  “Sounds like someone’s having a good time.”

  Ryan had joined me. Sara stood beside him, arms folded across her chest.

  I made a noncommittal sound.

  He didn’t take the hint. “What do you make of this place?”

  I didn’t have an answer for him. The camp felt more like a prison than a safe haven, and that made me deeply uncomfortable. I’d spent most of my life trying to stay out of places like this.

  The door to the registration building clicked shut. Faraday watched us while Jefferson locked the door, then they walked over.

  The speakers mounted on the wall sputtered to life and emitted a high-pitched siren. There were less people outside than when we’d arrived, but now even those headed toward the rectangular buildings on the western side of the camp.

  “That’s curfew, guys,” Jefferson said. “Nine p.m. every day. You get five minutes to get inside before the power goes down and the captain’s men start getting annoyed. And you don’t want them annoyed.”

  “Understood,” Ryan said.

  I just nodded.

  “Good,” Jefferson said. He glanced at Faraday, who was looking intently at Sara. “Now, if you two gentlemen would come with me, I’ll show you to your new home.”

  Ryan frowned. “What about Sara?”

  “Ms. Nishimoto is coming with me,” Faraday said.

  Sara frowned, her lips pressed tight together.

  Ryan’s mouth dropped open. “N-No. You can’t separate us.”

  Faraday stepped in front of Ryan. He had a couple of inches on the man and a lot more muscle.

  “Yes, I can,” Faraday said.

  Anger flared in Ryan’s eyes. He pulled himself upright. “No, I’m not going to let you.”

  The surprise on Faraday’s face seemed almost genuine. He clenched his fists. Behind him, Jefferson looked pensive, but he made no move to intervene.

  Ryan’s face had turned a deep shade of red.

  Faraday took a deep breath. “You say one more word, and—”

  “She’s not going with you.”

  Rage blazed in Faraday’s eyes. He reached toward the gun on his belt. He was fast, like the gunslinger from that Stephen King movie. The pistol was up and pointing at Ryan before he even knew what was happening. Time slowed, and I saw Faraday’s finger squeeze the trigger.

  Sara lunged forward and knocked the gun up and away. “No!”

  The shot rang out.

  Instinctively, Ryan ducked, but the bullet had gone high.

  Faraday backhanded Sara with the gun. Her head snapped sideways. I tensed, expecting another blow, but it didn’t come. When I looked at Faraday, his eyes were still full of anger, and now it was aimed at Sara.

  Scarlet blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away and stared defiantly back at Faraday.

  He lifted the gun as though he was going to shoot her. The silence stretched for several long seconds. Then Faraday seemed to change his mind and lowered the gun.

  Ryan grunted, a short, angry sound and moved toward Faraday again. I was content to let his stupidity get him killed, but Sara stretched out an arm to stop him.

  She smiled, but tears blossomed in her eyes. “It’s okay.”

  Indecision flickered across Ryan’s face. I could see him battling with himself, torn between a final heroic gesture and standing back and watching the love of his life taken away.

  Eventually, Ryan’s shoulders slumped, and the rage that had burned so bright only seconds before vanished. Defeat took its place. He pulled Sara into a hug.

  Faraday’s gun was pointing down, but only barely. He gave them a couple of seconds before saying, “Ms. Nishimoto.” His voice was hard, cold.

  Sara extracted herself from Ryan’s grip, straightened her back, and walked up to Faraday. Her jaw was clenched tight. Her cheek was smeared with blood, but anger and defiance blazed in her eyes. When she reached him, Faraday grabbed her arm just above the elbow. She flinched, just for a moment, then the stoic look returned. I wondered if Faraday might be getting more than he bargained for with her.

  Faraday’s eyes flicked to Ryan. They were filled with hatred. “Jefferson, put both of them on C detail.”

  Jefferson frowned. I thought he was going to question the assignment, but he didn’t. Instead, he nodded. “Yes, captain.”

  Faraday hauled on Sara’s arm and led her over to the entrance. The guards had unlocked the gate and pulled it open a few feet before Faraday had even gotten there. They acknowledged him with a salute as he passed. He ignored them.

  Sara looked over her shoulder as Faraday guided her through the gate. The determination was still there, but there was fear, too.

  Chapter 6

  That’s How It Goes

  Ryan watched Sara until she was out of sight, then he turned to Jefferson. “Where’s he taking her?”

  “To his apartment.”

  “Apartment? Doesn’t he live in the camp?”

  “Nah, he lives over there.” Jefferson pointed to a towering apartment building that looked almost brand new. It was all steel and gleaming, coppery glass. A glass-bottomed swimming pool jutted out above the entrance. “With the rich folk.”

  “There’s still rich people?” Ryan said, incredulous.

  “Oh sure. Like the man says… The poor stay poor, the rich get rich.”

  I shared Ryan’s surprise. I hadn’t put much thought into what the city would be like. It was just somewhere I needed to be. I’d assumed that society would break down and lawlessness and crime would take its place. I hadn’t expected this. Whatever this actually was.

  At the sound of a gunshot, Ryan and I jumped slightly. I whirled toward the sound, expecting to see a body lying on the ground. One of the guards on the platforms was sighting down his rifle, out past the wall. He pulled the trigger again, and another shot rang out. He straightened up and high-fived the man standing next to him.

  Jefferson put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Reluctantly, Ryan turned and the three of us walked across the camp, the siren still blaring from the tinny speakers around us.

  Jefferson led us to one of the buildings at the back of the camp. It was a low, rectangular structure; the sort of temporary accommodation used at t
he site of natural disasters all over the world. Made sense. The zombies might not be natural, but their impact on the world had been far greater than any earthquake or tsunami.

  He pushed open the door, and Ryan and I went in. It was dim inside. A handful of electric lamps provided a meager amount of light. There were twelve bunks. Four of them were occupied, a fifth looked like it should be. The blanket was pulled back, and the pillow had a head-shaped indentation in it.

  Jefferson frowned at the disheveled bunk. “Anyone seen Fitch?”

  Three of the other inhabitants, two men and one woman, shook their heads. The fourth and final occupant, another woman, seemed to already be asleep.

  “All right,” Jefferson said. He looked around the room. “I’ll let you introduce yourselves. I’ve got my own curfew.”

  “Sure thing,” said the woman.

  Jefferson nodded, then turned and left.

  The woman pointed around the room. “Pick any of the empty bunks. Bathroom’s at the far end.”

  Ryan walked over to her. He held out his hand. “I’m Ryan. That’s Marcus.”

  Reluctantly, the woman shook. “I’m Gretchen.” She pointed to the men. “Mason, Tom. Sleeping beauty there is Danielle.”

  Ryan smiled. “So, what can you tell me about this place?”

  Gretchen didn’t reply, she just raised her eyebrows.

  Ryan’s smiled faltered, but he pushed on. “You know, about the city. Does the military run everything?”

  Gretchen snorted. “Nah.”

  Ryan waited for her to continue. She didn’t. “Then who does?”

  “The one percent,” said Mason. “Same as always.”

  Tom murmured his agreement.

  “He’s right,” Gretchen said.

  So, the city was still split into two groups—the haves and the have-nots. The zombie threat had neither brought people together nor caused civilization to devolve in post-apocalyptic mayhem. It had just exaggerated a social situation that had already existed.

  “What about Faraday?” Ryan said.

  “What about him?” said Gretchen.

  “He’s taken my fiancée. How do I report him?”

  Gretchen laughed for several seconds. Eventually her laughter died, and she just stared at him. “You’re serious?”

  “Y—Yes.” He sounded confused.

  She shook her head. “She’s gone, honey. You let her go.”

  Ryan looked at me, then at Mason and Tom. “There must be something I can do? He can’t just take her.”

  “Yes, he can,” said Tom. “He can do what he wants, and he does.”

  Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but Gretchen cut him off. “Conversation’s over. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “But—”

  “Ah!” said Gretchen. She swept a finger and thumb across her lips, zipping them shut.

  Ryan’s jaw tightened. I could see him fighting the urge to argue his point. Instead, he looked away, glaring at the door.

  In my past life, before the zombie outbreak, Faraday would have made a perfect subject for my work. I didn’t need the shadow to show me his guilt. Of course, back then, he probably wasn’t the emperor of his own private slice of civilization; but men like him always found a way to indulge their desires, and I was a master at finding them.

  Hesitantly, I reached for the shadow, hoping Faraday might have reawakened it, but there was nothing there.

  Jefferson reappeared in the door with another man. The new arrival was average height, skinny with a reddish tan. His hair was cut short, probably to disguise the bald patch above his forehead. When he saw Ryan and me, his eyes narrowed, forehead creased in suspicion.

  “You were lucky today, Fitch,” Jefferson said. “The captain was… distracted. If he catches ya wandering about out by the fence again, there’ll be trouble, man.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry,” said Fitch, without taking his eyes off us. “Don’t tell him, please.”

  “Nah, course not. Just keep to the curfew from now on, okay?”

  Fitch nodded quickly. “I will, thanks.”

  “All right, now you guys get yourselves sorted. Lights out in five minutes.”

  Jefferson left, closing the door behind him. I heard the click of a lock.

  Fitch stood by the door. He was tense, nervous. I got the impression that a sudden movement from me or Ryan would send him scurrying for cover.

  Gretchen broke the silence. She spoke softly, as though she too was afraid of spooking Fitch. “This is Ryan and Marcus. They got brought in today.”

  “Where from?” Fitch said with a hint of accusation in his voice.

  “My fiancée and I came in from the east,” Ryan said. “We made it as far as False Creek on our own, but we got cornered.”

  “What about you?”

  “North,” I said.

  Fitch didn’t respond, and the silence returned until Tom stood and stretched. The bones in his back crackled. “Well, I’m going to get some sleep, and I suggest you all do the same. We’ve got another busy day ahead of us tomorrow.”

  His words triggered a flurry of movement. Fitch went to his bunk, still eying Ryan and me. Gretchen pulled the blanket over Danielle a little tighter then slipped into the next bed, removing her overall under the covers.

  I let Ryan pick a bed first. He chose one next to Mason. I picked one as far away from everyone else as I thought I could get away with. Tom caught my attention and raised one eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Nor did Ryan, but he glared at me then tipped his head toward the cot next to his. I pretended not to understand what he was trying to get across, climbed into the bed, and pulled the rough blanket over me. Mason and the others wished each other goodnight, and Ryan joined in. I mimicked them.

  One by one, we flicked off the lights, plunging the room into darkness.

  Around me, the others’ breathing gradually slowed. Someone was snoring, a gentle whistling that had me wishing yet again that the shadow hadn’t deserted me.

  A low-grade anger settled into my gut. Faraday was going to be a problem. He’d recognized me, or at least he realized he knew me from somewhere. It was only a matter of time before he worked out from where. It was anybody’s guess what he’d do at that point.

  He was exactly the sort of problem the shadow would be able to solve. If I could just tap into my darker self and call it back. I closed my eyes and tried to blank out the sounds of sleep filling the room.

  At first, I couldn’t; a breathy whistle from Ryan’s direction kept snatching my attention. I fastened my thoughts onto my first kill: a teenager who I’d seen bullying one of the younger kids in my school, almost two decades before the zombie outbreak.

  I pictured his face, remembered the fear in his eyes as I brought the rock down on him. I pictured his bloody corpse when the shadow had finished its work. I drew on the memories, replaying scenes from that kill time and time again, like some demented holiday movie, and waited for the familiar rush of the shadow.

  Nothing.

  I don’t know how long I tried to resurrect the shadow. It must have been close to an hour. By the end, I was drenched in sweat despite the cool air in the room. My hands ached where I’d unwittingly clenched them into fists. I flexed my fingers, trying to ease the discomfort.

  The shadow was gone for good, I was sure of it. The realization brought with it a cold, empty sadness. I’d never felt grief, not even when my mother died, but I imagined it must be something like this. After all, I’d lost a part of myself. In a way, I was grieving.

  Another gunshot rang out. Ryan mumbled in his sleep, but the others stayed quiet.

  I put thoughts of the shadow aside. There were other, more immediate problems. I was trapped in Faraday’s little empire—on the wrong side of the fence, literally and figuratively.

  Captain Faraday had been concerned about the swarm reaching the city. Vancouver wasn’t exactly an easily defensible fortress. Yes, water surrounded a lot of it, and there were bridges that would act as natu
ral choke points, but the downtown wasn’t actually an island. A wide swath of land connected it to the suburbs. The wall was obviously there to protect the city, but that didn’t mean there weren’t ways in and out, secret or otherwise.

  Faraday must fear vulnerabilities that might allow the dead to get inside. In the back of my mind, I was waiting for the shadow to rear up at the prospect of zombies that might be used for my work.

  It didn’t.

  I let out a slow breath. If I was going to find who’d taken my scalpels, I needed a way out of the camp. I wasn’t going to be able to just walk out of the main gate. I could persist with my story that I was looking for family, but that would probably mean facing Faraday again. I wanted to keep a low profile, not put myself directly in his line of fire.

  I had no idea what sort of work Faraday had people doing, but by the look on Jefferson’s face, “C detail” wasn’t the easy introduction to city life he’d promised me. Whatever it was, it might provide me with a way to escape. I’d have to wait until tomorrow, keep my head down, and look for the right opportunity.

  It was a vague plan, not really a plan at all, but I was out of options. I needed to be patient.

  I closed my eyes and immediately felt the worries and uncertainty closing in. They were stifling, and it took real effort to prevent panic from rising up inside of me. I tried to clear my mind and concentrated on my breathing.

  Breathe in.

  Hold.

  Breathe out.

  Hold.

  Breathe in.

  My mind was still in overdrive mode—assessing, plotting, rejecting—but eventually, the steady cadence of my breathing took effect, and I fell asleep.

  Chapter 7

  Breakfast

  Tom was the first to wake. The sound of water running and his off-key singing woke everyone else. He left to get breakfast before the rest of us were even up. His leaving seemed to be the trigger for everyone else to struggle out of bed.

  The room was filled with inane chatter while we each took turns in the bathroom. The only person not participating was Ryan. His eyes had the red-rimmed look of someone who had been crying. He sat on the edge of his cot, staring at the floor.