by Won, Mark
Trying to wade through the ice covered water like that did slow it down some. When it got real close I pulled out that other gun I’d picked up in receiving and pointed it right at the remaining head. The range was under four feet, my opponent was hindered by ice up to his chest. I couldn’t miss and Two-Face knew it.
As dawning realization swept across the monster’s dead features he had time to croak out one final word.
“Noooooo…” just before I sank a bullet through its remaining brain.
Chapter 6: A Friendly Chat, An Alternative Use for Fishing Boats, and The Lost are Found
Just then I felt someone tugging on my shoulder. Looking over my shoulder I screeched and drew away from a legless zombie that had, somehow, climbed up onto the boat and was trying to bring me into its deadly grasp. My feet came perilously close to the ice’s edge but I managed to keep my balance. The zombie didn’t seem to keen to follow.
I had to work my way around the boats and along the shore to lead the dead away. Then a quick dash back and I regained the shore and moved inland. I made it to one of the buildings dedicated to housing the island workers and took stock of its condition.
All looked as it should, except for the door hanging open. I approached cautiously, gun drawn. I checked the cylinder. Five big bullets left.
Inside there had clearly been a fight. Not too much blood but all the furniture was strewn about, most of it broken. I called out just in case my earlier count had been wrong, and there was a survivor hiding somewhere. Also, I’d rather have any enemies come to me. Sun Tzu, and all that.
Nobody answered or came shambling out at me, so I cautiously advanced. I searched room by room until I finally found the house radio. With any luck I’d be able to reach the peninsula with it.
Of course, everyone had a phone but the island’s tower wasn’t integrated into Haven’s communications network. Before the Change there had been a land line but we hadn’t been able to get that working, either. I got the impression that the cable had been left to rot years before the Change, due to surpassing technology.
Over the preceding two years I’d become a past master at radio operation. It took but a moment to get ahold of the Chief Communications Officer.
“Hi Lori, this is Mark.”
“Oh hi, Mark, I mean Mr. Incumbent. How are things going. Do you need some help getting off the island? I hear the bay’s freezing.” Floyd always insisted that everybody in the Haven Militia call anyone in leadership by title.
“Say, that would be great, Lori. Look I’ve got a bit of a situation here and I might need some assistance.” I was trying to play it cool. Anything said over the air was undoubtedly being listened to by at least a few other people.
“What kind of a situation, Mr. Incumbent?”
“It seems that a few of the subjects have escaped and are running amok. The situation is under control in the sense that the threat level is currently low. But losses have been incurred.”
“Why didn’t you say so! Just a sec, over.” Since there was an official problem we had to use official radio speak, I guess.
She came back on in a minute and assured me that Marshal Floyd was doing everything he could to reach me. One of our water faring reclamation crews had discovered an ice breaker a while back, but I had no idea if it would run. All of our gasoline had gone bad a while back and we couldn’t keep everything running on corn oil and alcohol.
“That’s great Lori. So how’s Jim and the kids?” She had two daughters but I couldn’t remember their names just then.
“They’re good, sir. You just hold on. Don’t give up, help is on its way. Over.” Why would I give up? Was I missing something?
“I know help is on its way, Lori, you just said so. Is there something wrong on your end? Over.”
“The latest word I have is that the ice breaker is way out by Spirit Island and the best we have is fishing boats. The Marshal doesn’t know if they’ll be able to get through. How many survivors are with you, sir. Over.”
“Well, none are exactly with me, right now. To the best of my knowledge there are three other survivors besides myself. Dr. Shelly, Dr. Joe Hanson, and Poindex...er...Steve something or other. Over.”
“Do you know where they are, sir?” How should I know? Where do mad scientists or their Igor imitator lackeys hang out when things go horribly, horribly wrong?
“The last I saw, Dr. Shelly and Joe were together and Steve was on his own. None of them have any bullets. But all the enemy we’ve got left here are a bunch of dismembered zombies. The rest have been neutralized. Oh yeah, I do have a nasty cut on my head, but its stopped bleeding. Say, is there any way you could patch me through to Marshal Floyd? Oh, and set up to receive some encryption if you can, please. I see that I have access to that tech right here.” When I established the use for the island I figured that encryption might come in handy if we learned anything that the public couldn’t handle.
It took a little doing but eventually Lori got me set up with Floyd. By the time I’d gotten through he was already half way to Venture Island.
“Hi, Marshal Floyd, how’s things going?” I hope he had good news because the fire in the wood burner had just gone dead and I didn’t really feel like going out for more firewood. Calling him by his title seemed appropriate under the circumstances.
“We’re getting close, sir. Sir, what is your status? Over.” I was getting sick of all the radio speak. Our communications were better than that.
“Are we using that new encryption thing?”
“Yes, sir. Over.”
“Get me the hell off this rock, then burn it to the ground! Everything. Priority one. Also dredge the bay by the boats and haul up whatever you find, and burn it to ash. Then, I don’t know, but we gotta have a talk.”
He took a moment to digest that before asking “Are you sure everything is alright, sir? Over.”
“When you get here, don’t forget to look for Steve, Joe, and Dr. Shelly. As far as I know, all major threats are dead. But be prepared. Are you going to be able to make it to the docks?”
Just then I heard an explosion from the south. Floyd replied “No problem, sir, we’re just going to do a little blasting to clear the way. Over”
“One more thing, Marshal Floyd. If I, for absolutely any reason, don’t survive this night, I want you to kill Dr. Shelly and Joe. They’ve been doing things here that jeopardize everyone. Question them, then kill them. Make damn sure you use head wounds. Do you understand?” Based on our earlier conversation, I was pretty sure Steve was ignorant of the whole monster making project.
There was quite a pregnant pause after that one. “Could you repeat that last, sir. Over.” I did so, word for word.
Once we’d gotten past that, Floyd let me know that his soldiers had cleared the beach and that he was on his way to where I was. I stayed on the radio and in contact with the captain of the fishing boat. I asked him how the fishing was. He told me it just kept getting better and better without all the competition there used to be. We had a nice chat while I waited.
Floyd and his gunmen came tromping in and they got me safely back to the boat. There were a couple more boats in the island’s little bay as well as a few more out in the open water, just in case we got stuck. We had to hurry, though, the temperature was still falling. Ever since the Change, winters had been getting colder.
Floyd had brought over two hundred men to the rescue, so the boats were a pretty tight fit. While we were waiting for the troops to find the screw head scientists, I had Floyd bomb the ice by the boats. We actually had a diver with us, so Floyd got him to go beneath the ice and tie a rope around the frankenzombie. Then we hauled it up.
Everyone was real impressed by the size of it, and Floyd made haste when I told him to burn it. I didn’t see the use in any kind of cover up so I gave a shortened version of events to everyone around me. Meanwhile, a burn crew was turning the beach into an impromptu crematorium. A number of men took selfies with the frankenzombie horror
show before putting it to the torch.
Eventually, sometime after midnight, the search parties discovered Dr. Shelly and Joe huddled in an obsolete, decrepit outhouse. Steve they found up a tree on the north side of the island.
By then things were quite chilly and we had to use most of our dynamite to blast free of the bay. Many of us were dropped off directly, but the fishing boats had to travel all the way around the island to make sure they would be kept free of the encroaching ice.
I wasn’t looking forward to all the ‘I told you so’s’ I was going to hear from the councils. I called my secretary, Delilah, and arranged for a full meeting in two days, at my home.
I desperately needed a vacation.
Chapter 7: The Beginning of the Actual End, A Bunch of Politicians, and the End of the End
Before I spoke to the council I decided to have a private chat with Dr. Frank Shelly and Joe. They both had some explaining to do. The venue was my home and I had a pair of armed guards with me at all times. Those two nuts had proven themselves capable of anything.
Once they were seated I got right to the point, “What the hell were you two nuts thinking? How on God’s Green Earth is making a Frankenstein’s monster out of undead body parts ever a good idea?! Think carefully before you answer. Your idiocy almost got me killed, and I’m pretty sure I could get a judge to hand out a death sentence once the details of your witless fiasco become public.” I was glaring my anger right through them. So much so that they both shriveled before my righteous wrath. That surprised me. Before the Change people just sort of ignored me if I got angry.
Joe spoke up first, “It wasn’t my idea! Really! What should I have done? He’s the boss!” Joe pointed at Dr. Shelly.
I answered before the doctor had a chance to reply to his minion’s betrayal, “You could have made me aware of the insanity the instant you saw me. You could have reported the whole thing via radio before I even showed up. So what if it cost you your job? There’s other jobs. Doctor, what do you have to say for yourself?”
He seemed a defeated, shrunken man. I could tell he was taking it all very personally. Of course, that’s not the same thing as genuine contrition. He said, “I’m truly, truly sorry. Joe’s right, it was all my fault. Obviously, it was a horrible mistake. I almost got you killed. I am responsible for the deaths of almost every other researcher on that island. If I could undo it I would. May God forgive me.” That was better, if he was sincere. I was still curious, though.
“Doctor,” I asked, “what were you thinking? Why did you make that abomination? I really want to know.”
With a shame filled expression he replied, “It all started out as a sort of hateful joke. You see, I truly despise those…things. They enrage me. I began by taking body parts which we had cropped for safety reasons, and then I sewed them together as a mockery of that which I detest. My motives were entirely puerile, altogether vulgar. I got carried away when I attached functioning heads to the, as you rightly call it, abomination. Then a strange thing began to occur. The body parts began to meld and reform on their own. I decided to leave the amalgamation in Receiving just to see what it might become. Up to that point my behavior had been immoral, like a child puling the wings off of a fly. But waiting to see what the whole thing would become was altogether stupid. I can repent of the immorality, I don’t know what to do about the stupidity.”
“Well, I’ve got some ideas regarding that.”
-
I had the whole of the three councils present for a question and answer session. Due to our problems with the ice this year most had to fly in. Reverend Ert and a fellow pastor of his, Jerry, opened the meeting for us with a lengthy prayer.
No sooner had the ‘amen’ been uttered then everyone started to vociferously ask questions all at once. I made sure to take an extra second before unfolding my hands.
“Ladies and gentlemen, one at a time, please. You probably all have the same question, anyway.” At least I hoped they only had one question. That way I could answer it and go take a nap.
Lou got the first word in (he was that kind of guy), “Are we in any danger?” That’s what I liked about him. Sure, he liked to be heard, but his thoughts tended to be relevant.
I said, “No, the problem’s been solved. Everything on Venture Island is dead and burned.”
Lou got the next question in too, “Then why have you left orders for the island to be set on fire come spring?” Word does get around.
“Because I had a really hard time there and it’s left me feeling spooked and threatened. You saw the pictures and you’ve heard the rumors. Perhaps I was being a bit excessive.”
Quin spoke up, “Could that giant mutant zombie really talk?”
“It wasn’t a mutant. It was built that way by a bunch of nuts possessed of poor survival instincts. And yes, it could talk.”
May chipped in, “What did it have to say?”
“With a lack of eloquence, it expressed an undying hatred for all human life. To that end, it also expressed its intention to kill us all. It stated a plain desire to be able to organize all of the Changed into a cohesive, organized army.”
Bethany asked, “Could it do that?”
“On its own, no, but I got the sense that it believed such a thing isn’t impossible. It expressed a desire for a willing accomplice.”
Zachery asked, “Wait a minute. It wanted you to help it? How did it think you’d do that?” I’d have preferred not to have been asked that question. Talk about chilling memories.
“Something having to do with an emotional, mental or spiritual commitment to its cause. If I said yes, it promised to let me live.”
Jeremy looked worried, “What did you tell it?” In light of the evidence, that seemed a foolish question. A bit insulting, really.
“I said ‘no’, then shot it in the head, then shot it in the other head. That did the trick, but it was a lot more trouble than you’d think.”
Cynthia said, “I still don’t think that it’s a good idea to burn the whole island down. That’s the kind of thing that makes us look afraid. Which we don’t want even if we are afraid. Especially if we are afraid.”
“You’re right, Cynthia. I was letting my emotions do my thinking for me. Come spring, I’ll just send over the militia to tear the place apart and kill any remaining zombies. Why burn the wood for nothing? We may need it some day.”
Marcus wondered, “What are we going to do with Dr. Shelly? After what he did, I just can’t trust the man.” Several voices echoed the sentiment.
“I’ve given it some thought and decided that he needs to be kept working, but with nothing too dangerous or important. What do you all think?”
Josh said, “Let’s assign him and his assistant, Joe, to field tests against the enemy. R&D have come up with a few new land mines, flamethrowers, catapult bombs, and other things we can build for ourselves. The doctor can chart the results of the tests against the actual enemy.”
I said, “That’s an excellent idea. I know I can trust Marshal Floyd to channel Dr. Shelly’s epistemic pursuits properly.” Actually, my plan was to have Floyd set the good doctor up at a new research center in a couple of years. Quietly. Once new concerns had replaced old fears and time had dulled memories, it would be time to get back to the business of understanding our enemies strengths and weaknesses. Obviously under greater supervision. I had my eye on a new research island, already.
Lou spoke up again, “Is there anything we can do to keep this threat from materializing in the future?”
“We’re doing it. We need to stay the course. Civilization still exists. The more we fan that flame the sooner we can escape this Dark Age the human race has fallen into.”
Rosemary said, “Well, we’re all just glad you made it back in one piece.” I thought that was nice of her to say.
Once we’d gotten that mess cleared up things settled down, and we were able to move on to the winter’s business. The councils were still frightened but that wasn’t an
all bad thing. Fear of an external threat was proving a most useful tool in keeping everything running smoothly. If we must have the problem, we might as well take advantage of it.
I made sure Ert and his buddy stayed the night. After everyone else had gone to bed I met them in my study. We had a long and horrible conversation about just exactly what I had encountered. After giving Ert a thorough and accurate rendition of events we discussed what it might all mean. I grew in knowledge but my fears were not assuaged.
-
Later that same winter I finally got around to writing my contribution to these survivors’ tales. My intention is to give them to a man who used to be a writer before the Change. He was a bit of a hack, but there isn’t enough here to really screw up.
If he does a good enough job maybe I’ll find a few more people with something different to contribute. We’ll see how it goes. In any case, my writer is an excellent conversationalist, witty, well read and wise. The perfect sort to be stuck on an island with during the winter, as long as one has a large home.
The End
