The weight of the last few days came crashing down on me. The ache in my arms and legs deepened. A weariness settled over me, almost heavy enough to drive me to my knees.
I nodded.
Cali put her hand on my shoulder. “Thank you.”
I wasn’t sure what she was thanking me for, but I let her guide me toward the SUV and climbed inside. I’d been right, it was warm. The air smelled of clean leather and brand-new car. I slid across the seats to the opposite side. Cali sat alongside me. The door clicked shut, sealing us in. I felt a moment’s panic then forced myself to relax.
Rain hammered the sunroof above us.
Cali leaned over and pulled the champagne from the metal bucket. She filled a glass and gave it to me.
She poured her own drink, returned the bottle to the bucket, and raised her glass. “Cheers.”
I returned the gesture. “Cheers.”
Cali drank her champagne in one long, languid motion.
I took a sip from mine, then cradled the glass in my lap as the SUV rolled away from Hunter Neurologics.
Chapter 15
Dinner
The city slipped past outside. The car was quiet, the sound of the engine little more than a quiet purr. Electric maybe? The interior was expensive, high quality leather seats and trim, individual temperature controls, heated seating. There was a TV screen mounted in front of us, with slots for DVDs and memory cards.
The car slowed a little, passing the entrance to a work camp built on a parking lot. It was similar to Faraday’s, but smaller. A cluster of people stood outside the metal fence. One of them held a sign that read—ABOLISH SLAVERY.
Four soldiers armed with rifles stood in front of the gate. One of the protesters started shouting something and ran toward the camp. She made it five or six steps before the nearest guard had his rifle up. A single shot rang out. The protester twisted and went down. Within moments, two of the guards were on top of her. They hauled her unconscious form upright and away from the gate.
I looked at Cali. She’d been watching the events unfold, too, but I couldn’t read her expression.
We turned onto one of the main streets cutting through the city. A few minutes later, Jon pulled the SUV to the curb and killed the engine. We’d parked outside a nightclub: Virtuous. I vaguely remembered the name but, unsurprisingly, I’d never been. I frowned.
Cali simply said, “Food.”
The opening of the passenger door hid the sound of my stomach growling. A valet looked in at us. He was middle-aged and clean-shaven. It was still raining, and his uniform was drenched. Water dripped from the peak of his cap, but he was smiling.
“Welcome back, Ms. Hart.”
“Good evening, Harry. How are you today?”
“Oh, you know. Haven’t been bit, so can’t complain.”
“How’s Mrs. Wilkinson?”
Harry grimaced. “Her arthritis is still playing up. This wet weather plays havoc with her joints.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Tell her to go and see Dr. Kalameshi at the general clinic. Mention my name—he’s a good friend of mine, and he may be able to help.”
Harry lifted two fingers to his cap in an oddly archaic motion. “Thank you, Ms. Hart. You’re too kind.”
Harry stepped back, and Cali climbed out of the SUV. I opened my own door and joined her on the sidewalk. The heavy bass beat of dance music came from inside the club.
As I got close, Cali held out her arm. After a moment’s hesitation I hooked my arm through it. I had nowhere else to go, anyway. And, if I was being honest, these latest events were intriguing.
“Will you be dining this evening?” Harry said.
“Yes, I think we will.”
“Excellent, I’ll let the kitchen know.”
A bouncer blocked the club’s entrance. He was standing behind a black velvet rope strung between two metal posts. A line of people, maybe thirty in total, stretched down the sidewalk. A few peered out of the line at us, a mixture of impatience and envy on their faces.
I’d been expecting Jon to hand the SUV’s keys to the valet, but instead, he pulled away from the curb and disappeared off up the road.
Harry nodded to the bouncer, who unhooked the rope and stepped aside.
“Thank you again, Ms. Hart,” Harry said.
Cali smiled and led me into a dimly lit corridor. I could barely see, but Cali moved confidently through the gloom. The bass grew louder then louder again when, without warning, a door opened up in front of us.
It swung open, revealing a circular dance floor filled with twisting, writhing dancers. A narrow metal table ran around the dance floor. More sweat-soaked patrons sat on high stools at the table, watching the dancers or talking. A couple were kissing, limbs locked around each other. Multicolored lights swept about the room, cutting through the smoky haze that hung in the air.
And in the center of the room, in a circular cage suspended from the ceiling, were the zombies.
The cage was at least twenty feet across. The bars were an inch or so thick with a layer of glass or plastic to ensure the creatures inside didn’t get out. There were four of them—putrid, rotting things. The sight of so many people almost within biting reach had driven them into a frenzy. They clawed at the glass, leaving wet black streaks down it. The metal floor of the cage was spattered with blood and a few lumps of something pale.
One of the zombies threw itself against the wall of its prison. The edge of a metal bar cut its forehead. Black blood splashed against the glass. A group of three men standing nearby let out a cheer. They each grabbed a shot glass from the line arrayed in front of them and downed the drinks. Then they slammed the empty glasses onto the table, cheered again, then went back to watching the zombies.
Cali tugged on my arm and shouted over the music. “This way.”
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped moving. I let her lead me through the crowd. The music was thunderous. The bass line vibrated through my feet, and my ears were already ringing.
We headed to the corner of the room and up a spiral staircase that led to the second floor. I rested my hand on the guardrail as we climbed and felt it vibrating in time with the music.
The staircase ended at a corridor. The music was muffled by the walls, almost enough to have a normal conversation. Halfway down the corridor, a man in a crisp, black suit and a shockingly white shirt stood beside a door. He bowed slightly to us. Then, without speaking, he swung open the door and gestured for us to go inside.
The suite beyond wouldn’t have looked out of place in a luxury apartment. The decoration had the elegant simplicity that only massive amounts of money achieved. A four-seater sofa made of black leather and two matching armchairs sat in a U-shape around a low glass table. Dark carpet covered the floor. It was thick enough that my feet sank into it as I walked into the room.
The far wall was a single, massive pane of glass giving us a panoramic view of the dance floor. I’d been prepared for a fresh onslaught of music, but whatever soundproofing was present kept it muffled and indistinct.
A bar ran along the right-hand side of the room. Behind it was an array of bottles containing every type of alcohol I could name and a few dozen I couldn’t. A raised dining area with a dark hardwood floor was on the left. In the center of the dining space there was a mahogany table. It was oval and large enough to seat four, but only two places had been set.
I followed Cali past the sofa and chairs, and over to the window. From our vantage point, we could see into the zombie cage. There were actually five zombies. The one I hadn’t spotted was younger—a boy of maybe ten. Zombie-boy was pressed against one corner of the cage. Its right leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. It clawed at the glass, desperately trying to get to the food that was temptingly close.
A couple of women in brightly colored dresses with plunging neck lines stood nearby, pointing and laughing at the boy. One of the women stepped forward and slapped the glass near the zombie. It moved to get to her, and its leg
gave way. It stumbled and fell, sliding to the cage floor, still trying to get through the glass. The women tipped their heads back and cackled.
Another zombie threw itself against the side of the cage. Its cheek split open, and a wave of thick black fluid streamed down its face. It dripped onto the floor at its feet, mingling with the gore that was already there. The men with their shot glasses cheered and took another drink.
I glanced across at Cali. Her lips were pressed tight, her jaw clenched. She shook her head slightly and muttered something.
“Pardon?” I said.
She looked at me and smiled. “Let’s eat.”
As if summoned by our intent, the man who’d let us into the room stepped out of a small door I hadn’t noticed before. He was carrying a bottle of red wine. Once he’d pulled the chairs back to allow us to sit, he showed the label to Cali.
“Excellent, Chris. Thank you.”
The man nodded and poured us each a glass of wine. Then he put the bottle in the middle of the table before almost gliding through the door again.
Cali lifted her glass. “To self-preservation.”
It was an odd sentiment, but I tapped my glass against hers anyway. “Self-preservation.”
Cali took a drink and nodded appreciatively.
Chris reappeared, this time carrying two plates containing steak surrounded by an assortment of vegetables. Steam rose from the meals, and the smell of meat washed over me. Saliva filled my mouth. When he put my plate down in front of me, I had to stop myself from grabbing the steak with my hands and just tearing into it.
Cali smiled at me, and there was a soft twinkle in her eyes. Her wine glass was almost empty. She reached over and picked up the bottle. She slowly refilled her glass then offered the bottle to me. Mine was still full, and I shook my head.
I licked my lips. The smell radiating off my plate was almost overwhelming.
She smiled and put the bottle down. “Would you like to say grace?”
I looked across the table at her. Cali’s smile had vanished, and her eyebrows were raised. I stared at her for a few seconds before her facade cracked and she started laughing.
“I’m sorry, that was cruel of me. Please, eat.”
She picked up her knife and fork, and cut into her steak. I waited a few polite seconds then did the same. Juices exploded in my mouth as I bit down on the tender meat. It was a stark contrast to the food being served in Faraday’s camp. I briefly wondered where it had come from. The thought only lasted a few seconds before it was obliterated by the flavors filling my mouth.
“So,” Cali said between mouthfuls, “what do you think?”
“It’s delicious.”
Cali smiled. “No, I meant the club.”
“Honestly?” I shook my head slightly. “I don’t understand it.”
She nodded then put a forkful of potato into her mouth.
“I’ve never really been the sort of person that went to clubs,” I added as though that might explain my lack of understanding.
“I don’t think that’s the issue.” Cali pointed her fork toward the dance floor. “This place isn’t a rational reaction to what’s happening out there, beyond the city walls. It’s a sign of how rotten the world has become.”
“Rotten?”
“Yes. The cracks in civilization were beginning to show, even before the outbreak. Not just in the violence, that’s always been there, but in the idiocy of the general populace. So called social media had created a million tiny cliques, all convinced that their particular brand of bigotry was the one true way. But the rest of the world was too focused on celebrity gossip and videos of idiots whoring themselves out for clicks to notice. Have you seen the videos from the beginning of the outbreak?”
“No, I… wasn’t in the city.”
“Oh, of course.” Cali gave a short, bitter laugh. “You’re lucky. We could have stopped the dead, but everyone was too busy live streaming them. It was weeks before most people realized the threat was real. By then, it was too late.”
I looked down at my plate and cut into my steak.
Cali sighed and took another mouthful of food. The beat of the music changed, switching to something even faster with a high-pitched counterpoint to the thundering bass line.
Our plates were almost empty when Cali spoke again. “You did the right thing.”
I paused, a piece of steak halfway to my mouth.
“At the lab I mean, when it started.”
Images flashed through my mind. A zombie hammering at a door. Doctor Hunter’s half eaten body lying on the floor. Cali looking at me. Her unspoken permission. My hand opening the door.
I put the food into my mouth and chewed. Slowly.
Cali ate the last piece of her steak. She’d barely put down her knife and fork when Chris reappeared. He moved around the table, collecting the plates with quiet efficiency.
“Can I get you anything else?” he said.
“No, thank you,” Cali said.
I shook my head.
Chris bowed slightly and left the room.
We sat in silence for a while, then Cali said, “Come on, I want you to see this.”
She took me over to the window.
The three men were still there, their line of shots rapidly disappearing, but the women who’d been tormenting the child zombie were gone now.
The zombie had crawled along the side of the cage and was lying on the floor, barely moving. The rest of the zombies were just about visible through the coating of viscera that had built up around the inside of the cage.
I looked at Cali and raised my eyebrows.
“Wait,” she said.
She reached forward and flicked a switch discreetly hidden beside the window. The room filled with the sound of music, quieter than out in the club proper but still loud enough that it would be hard to talk.
The music changed again, and a handful of dancers retreated to the edge of the room. They were quickly replaced by other people, and the dance floor was soon a seething mass of flesh. Individuals circled each other, like gladiators in an arena. Couples ground their bodies together, mouths pressed against mouths. And above them all, the zombies clawed and bit and fought to get free.
A disturbance broke out on the far side of the room. It spread through the crowd, confusion quickly turning to fear. The music cut out and was replaced with a gentle, almost melodic voice instructing people to remain calm and leave the building immediately.
The announcement had no effect on anyone’s state of mind. Fear became panic, and everyone in the club surged toward the exits. The shift in the crowd revealed the source of the commotion.
A man in blue jeans and a T-shirt featuring a painting of a wolf stumbled from a doorway. His skin was pale, but there was dark fluid, blood, running down his jaw and soaking his shirt. The man’s eyes were the black orbs of a zombie.
Chapter 16
and a Show
The creature lunged at a nearby woman. She screamed and twisted, freeing herself from its grip. It clawed at her face, ragged nails tearing the flesh from her cheek. Blood pouring down her face, she ran toward the exit. A bulky, balding man stepped into her path, and she collided with him. He snarled and shoved her away.
The woman stumbled back into the zombie’s grasp. It leaned forward and clamped its jaw on her neck. Her legs buckled. She and the zombie collapsed to the ground. Most of the crowd scattered, but a man in a Superman T-shirt grabbed the zombie’s shoulders and pulled him off the woman. The zombie released the woman, and she crawled away on her hands and knees, leaving a bloody trail behind her.
Flecks of tattered flesh still in its mouth, the zombie grabbed Superman. Its fingers sank into his eyes. The man screamed and shoved the zombie away. Blood cascaded down his face. Sightless, he stumbled away from the zombie. A woman in a glittering silver dress ran into him. Superman almost went down, but the woman grabbed his arm and hauled him upright. Shoving her way through the crowd, she led Superman toward the exit.
>
I was amazed to realize not everyone was running. A space had formed around the zombie, and at least a dozen of the partygoers stood in a circle around it. Instead of fear in their faces, there was excitement. One man took a half step toward the zombie, then dodged back out of reach, grinning as he taunted it.
The zombie lunged toward the nearest person—a man in an electric blue suit with purple spiked hair. The man tried to duck out of the way, but the crowd was packed too close. The zombie grabbed the man’s collar and pulled him into its embrace. Electric Blue’s arms pinwheeled almost comically and then the zombie sank its teeth into the top of his skull. The two of them sank out of sight, the woman’s voice still urging people to remain calm and exit the building.
The door to the suite opened. It was Jon.
“Cali, we need to go.”
Cali seemed reluctant to stop watching the spectacle unfolding beneath us, but she nodded. We headed into a corridor filled with the screams of the people down below.
A young woman, her forehead streaked with blood, scrambled up the spiral staircase. She stared at us, wide eyes starkly white against her blood-soaked face. Her mouth opened and closed as she fought to speak. She raised her arm and pointed back down the staircase. “Z-Zombie!”
Jon looked at Cali. She shook her head, and he turned away, leading us in the opposite direction. The corridor ended in an emergency exit. Jon threw his weight against it and the door crashed open to reveal a concrete staircase. A pair of women dressed in matching purple dresses hurried down the stairs from the floor above. They barely glanced at us.
As soon as Cali and I were through the emergency exit, Jon pulled it closed, cutting off the cries of the woman behind us.
“This way,” he said.
We ran down the stairs. One of the women in purple stumbled. Her shoe clattered across the floor. She bent to pick it up, but her friend grabbed her arm and pulled her onward.
Serial Killer Z: Shadows Page 10
