I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  My heart went Grinch and swelled to nearly bursting out of my rib cage. If no other moment made me realize the importance of what we were doing, this would. With that little smile and gratitude everything came into focus, the past merged with the present, and the realization that we could, in fact, possibly beat this nightmare back to where it came from made itself home in my mind.

  I smiled back at her and simply said “You’re welcome,” before the doors to the elevator opened and we all marched on.

  The sounds of impending chaos were all around us. Screams. Crashes. Distant and hopeless cries for help. Even with my newfound resolution, the symphony of the damned threatened to make me curl up and hide myself away. We had a goal and we were going to see it through, damnation or not.

  Surprisingly enough, our march to the sewer opening behind the hospital went off without a hitch. At every corner I expected a surprise attack by a gang of moaners or a rogue undead ninja, waiting to go all Crouching Zombie on us and make a buffet of our heads. It didn’t happen. The only incident was spotting the soon-to-be decomposing body of our old friend Phillipe. With a bitter twist of irony, he had been hung up on a fence post, his arms spread to his sides as if he’d been crucified. The only difference between he and the historical crucifixion was the missing brain. My heart ached for his loss. Even though the man was a self-righteous, overly pious ass, he didn’t deserve to die in such a way. He was a lost soul looking for some form of salvation from the nightmare unleashed on mankind – only he decided his salvation would come at the cost of his own humanity. Had we the time, I might be so inclined to stop and say a word on his behalf.

  Unfortunately, we have no time for such distraction.

  Once at the sewer opening, Gunther stepped up and hefted the metal gate open. The foul stench wafted up and kissed our olfactories. I turned to everyone and silenced them before a single complaint could be registered. We were too close to have the stink of human waste take us down.

  Like a well-choreographed ballet, we managed to lower everyone safely into the underground passageways. Using knotted bedsheets as ropes, Zander and Gunther did the bulk of the work. After some time (and sweat) there we were, slogging through the shit of the City of Lights. The wheelchairs had a rough go of it, but with enough effort the wheels managed to squish through.

  “God it smells like shit down here.” Zander just had to go there. Every one of the group wanted to stop and slap the man across the face for pointing out the oh-so-obvious.

  “What did you expect, Zander? The smell of cookies baking?” Susan gave Zander the ‘what for’ and I was so proud. She started to laugh, but then something caught in her throat.

  “Bethany, I don’t feel so good,” Susan said, her voice shaky.

  “It’s okay sweetie, we’re almost there.” My reassurance didn’t go very far.

  “No, I really don’t –” Susan let out an ear-splitting scream.

  “Susan, what is it, what’s wrong?” My voice did nothing to stop her from screaming. “Jean, help me!”

  Jean rushed to Susan’s side and started feeling for vitals.

  “She’s going into shock.” Jean pushed everyone aside to clear some room. He then pulled out his wallet and shoved it in her mouth.

  “Jean –”

  “My wallet will keep her from biting off her tongue or damaging her teeth,” Jean quickly explained, anticipating my question. “The girl is burning up. I’m not sure if it is a reaction to the vaccine or…” Jean’s voice trailed off ominously.

  “Or what, Jean?” I urged him on.

  “Or the vaccine failed.”

  “But I thought she was cured?” Michelle said from a distance.

  “It’s passing. Susan? Susan, can you hear me?” I tried to infuse my words with calm…‘tried’ being the operative word.

  Susan spit the wallet out of her mouth and spoke in a frail, frightened voice. “Make it stop, Bethany. Please make it stop.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant. “Make what stop sweetheart?”

  “The noise.”

  Those two simple words stopped me in my tracks. Those two words could only mean one thing, the virus was taking hold of Susan. She was infected and it was getting worse. What could I do? My heart couldn’t possibly break any more than it already had. Yet there I was, staring into Susan’s innocent eyes, knowing the virus was amplifying and she was most likely going to turn any time.

  “I’m sorry, Susan. We’re all right here with you. Everything will be fine,” Jean assured. “Are you feeling better now?” Thankfully, Jean must have seen that my brain had locked up, so he jumped in to save the day.

  “I feel better now. The noise is gone.”

  “Can you walk with us?” I gave her hand a squeeze.

  “Yeah.”

  Before we could set off, Zander swooped in and stole Susan from me. “Or would you rather have a piggy back ride?”

  “Sure!” Susan’s face lit up.

  Zander trotted forward with Susan on his back.

  “Jean, you know what this means right?” I whispered.

  “Full well, my dear. Full well.”

  We had to do something or I was going to have to put another bullet through the skull of yet another loved one. That would probably clang the death knell for my sanity.

  “Here it is!” Michelle said excitedly. “This opens up to the center of the street directly in front of the doors to the building.”

  Gunther pulled up to the front of the line to do his thing. He climbed the stairs and pushed his shoulders up against the opening. Nothing. He heaved again, but the cover wouldn’t budge.

  “It’s not moving. There must be something on top of it. Now what?” Gunther climbed down, resigned.

  “There’s another exit a few blocks east. We’ll have to climb out and make our way back.”

  An ominous silence grabbed the consciousness of the group, threatening to drag us down in the dark moors of depression, Othello style.

  “It’s our only choice. We have to.” My inner cheerleader (as Jacob would have said) came out to do a little dance and rouse up some team spirit. “Lead the way, Michelle.”

  Michelle happily informed us that our new destination opened up into an alleyway, which will most likely be safer than charging blindly into the middle of the street. We arrived in no time and Gunther immediately climbed up to take a peek. Before he could put a hand against the grate, that familiar moan vibrated the airspace around us.

  We all stopped, either paralyzed by fear or just hoping the thing wouldn’t hear or see us. The moaning happened a second time.

  But before I could wet my pants, Michelle laughingly informed us, “It’s only Mikka.”

  A cloud of relief exhaled through the lungs of the group. For the moment.

  “Okay, it’s clear.” Gunther gave us the go-ahead to begin our exodus from the sewers. We reversed our tactics from earlier and managed to get everyone out and into the alley above without incident.

  The precise moment the last of us emerged from the sewer, fate decided to mock us with a handful of moaners to join the party. Bad timing was really starting to work my nerves. I wanted nothing more than to grab some serious firepower and unleash my frustration on the approaching Quartet du Moan. I knew better. Not only would my ensuing rage-filled primal battle cry draw the attention of even more play-dates, but my aim would only serve to waste more ammo than we could afford. So, instead, I left it for the professionals.

  It took Gunther only four dead-on shots to bring down the beasts.

  “We must hurry,” Gunther said, not wasting time to remind us that his gunshots would draw the attention of more of the fun-loving undead. Michelle took the front to lead us to the entryway of our new destination. Much to our dismay, the streets were far from clear. In fact, it was a mad-dash scramble to avoid any confrontation with the damned, which was no easy feat when pushing a wheelchair or hand-truck full of food.

  We turned the corner to make for the front of the b
uilding, when all of a sudden the entire city block was wracked with the sound and quake from a nearby explosion. Much to Murphy’s chagrin, the shaking sent many of the moaners to the ground. And just when it looked like the way had been cleared, it showed up. By ‘it’ I mean one of the most hideous screamers we had yet to encounter. The thing looked like Frankenstein’s monster and the Creature from the Black Lagoon had a love child which was, in turn, infected by the undead. Hideous, huge, and really pissed off , the thing spotted us, roared a Hell-filled battle cry, and took off sprinting right toward us. The muscles alone on the monster were enough to freeze my soul in place and hope I was wrong about there not being a God.

  It wasn’t Gunther’s turn to save the day. This time the credit was to be given solely to Zander. Unbeknownst to any of us, Zander had been carrying an automatic weapon with some serious muscle. He pulled the thing from what seemed like thin air and started filling the space around him with a well-muffled noise. The gun should have been a fireworks-display of bangs and pops, instead it was more like a pillow punch.

  The beast shortened the distance between us by nearly three-quarters before it finally went down. None of us could move immediately, we were all afraid the thing would get up for one last attempt at sucking our heads like straws to get to our creamy centers.

  When it didn’t happen, I finally looked over at Zander with that What the hell? Look. He patted the weapon and said, “Special Forces issue. Fun stuff.”

  Fortunately, for Zander, there wasn’t time for me to grill his ass over keeping such a weapon from us; we had to get inside to safety. Suffice it to say, we were all very lucky. To be perfectly honest, I’m shocked we made it inside, and after only ninety minutes of travel. But for me, even the horror we confronted on the streets paled in comparison to the horror I witnessed in the sewer. Susan’s infection is no better. In fact, she displayed the first signs of zombification. It’s now just a matter of time before she’s completely lost.

  I thought we had the vaccine right. For a brief moment, I had hopes that this nightmare was about to begin the very slow process of receding back into the dark corners from which it came. Unfortunately that is not the case. Jean and I are back to testing doses; at least I hoped that was all we’d be doing. I would hate to think the Mengele File led us to a dead end.

  Dead end. That phrase seemed so much more menacing now. It used to be that death was an end. The end, in fact. Now, death is nothing more than a beginning. But to what end?

  And in thinking of the end, I remembered an altogether newer possibility: Dr. Godwin’s video and the back door key. Maybe Jean and I were off with the rabies vaccination, but the progenitor of the virus, the same man that swore there was no cure, spoke from the grave of a back door into the Center for Disease Control that would hold a key to the cure.

  Back doors just happen to be my specialty. As soon as we manage to get situated here, I will focus every brain cell I have on breaking through that back door.

  “Bethany,” Jean gently approached me and touched my shoulder so not to frighten a few weeks of my life away, “we need your help to get situated.”

  Far be it from me to shirk my duties for the greater good.

  Blog Entry 12/12/2015 7:15 p.m.

  Other than missing the obvious array of hospital equipment, and seemingly endless supply of sutures, hypodermics, pain killers, and surgical tools, our new location looks to be the perfect place for us to hole up. Not only can we better control entries and exits, but the structure of the building is as solid as they come. The heavy marble floors and thick leaded glass will serve as a better suited fortress than the hospital ever did. Top that off with a sizable collection of somewhat modern computer hardware, running hot and cold water, and a coffeemaker, and we are set.

  The only real creature-comfort we will miss are beds. Fortunately the facility offers enough overstuffed chairs and couches to make do. Besides, comfort is quite a relative term now.

  We decided the third floor of the building was the ideal location for our group. Like at the hospital, we will all sleep in the same room for added safety. The location chosen was a media storage room that seems to be the most secure and obscure room in the building. Neatly tucked away in a corner, the room is almost impossible to spot, unless you know exactly what you are looking for. And once we emptied the sizable cube of its contents, we were able to move in enough furniture to provide ample sleep and work areas.

  My first, personal duty was to lug up a few PCs to our hideaway. I had to piece together a couple of CAT5 cables long enough to run from a data port in another room so I can have a network connection. Fortunately this building is modern enough to have an IT department, so supplies for my needs were not in shortage.

  When I fired up the PCs I was hot and ready to attempt something I never thought I would find myself doing – hacking the CDC.

  The Center for Disease Control is one of the most well-protected centers in the world. A single entity that houses enough deadly disease samples to destroy the Earth’s population a few times over. Naturally with that much destructive power housed within its walls, the CDC has some of the strongest security on the planet. This task will take some doing…but it can (and will) be done.

  What I need to do is simple; download a few of my pre-compiled cracking tools and run them, one at a time, on the CDC network. Eventually one of those tools will break through the security and I will be in. Once inside the CDC network, well, I’m not quite sure what I would be looking for. Doctor Godwin said the key to the cure was there, so I would just have to wander around, from machine to machine, until I found that key.

  My hacking applications are fairly small, so it took no time to get them from my FTP server. Once I had them on a PC I randomly chose one of the three tools and launched it on the CDC network. All I can do now is wait.

  And sleep. I’m exhausted.

  Blog Entry 12/13/2015 8:03 a.m.

  I woke up from another nightmare with my heart pounding out of my chest and my stomach wanting to tip what little contents it had all over the floor.

  I was in a maternity ward of a hospital. Everything was so serene. Vivaldi was playing in an otherwise silent background. The soothing touch of a nurse’s hand would caress my skin now and then, telling me everything was going just perfectly.

  But then perfection was upturned and disaster showed its nasty face. A horrific pain began to radiate from just below my belly. It felt as if I were being ripped asunder from within. And just when the pain seemed as if it couldn’t worsen, what I thought was my baby chewed its way out of my womb and into the open air. The creature was hideous – nothing more than a pale, sickly, shrunken version of a screamer. The little monster’s screech was so piercing, so damnable, that every inch of glass in the room shattered. As the hailstorm of glass shards rained down I was sliced to ribbons. My blood flowed over the bed and the baby zombie leaped from my open womb to my shoulders and began cracking my head against the metal railing of the bed.

  I woke to Jean shaking me from my nightmare. Apparently I began screaming around 7:50 a.m. And woke everyone but Susan and Mikka. They, of course, were given heavy doses of sedative-laced vaccine. Jean had increased the percentage of rabies vaccination for both patients. There was concern for Susan’s safety, but at this point he felt he had no choice.

  But there was another choice. At least there was another possibility.

  My attention was immediately turned to the PC that worked and churned overnight to hack into the CDC network. Unfortunately my capn_awesome cracker had no luck. Instead of bemoaning the failure I pulled up soiled_thing and launched another attack. The soiled_thing crack would take a bit longer than capn_awesome, but the likelihood of success was much greater. This particular crack would most likely run for about six hours. Hopefully the end results would be a prompt awaiting my eager fingers.

  In the meantime, my veins were in desperate need of a caffeine infusion. And even though the afterbirth of my nightmare was fresh in my
thoughts, I had a belly in need of filling.

  “Good morning, Bethany. I take it you didn’t sleep well?” Michelle was ahead of me on the coffee front. “Care for a cup?”

  “Make it two. And actually, save for the last few minutes, I slept very well. What about you?” I was sure I knew the answer to that question since Michelle had kept vigil by Mikka’s side the entire night.

  “I managed a couple of hours. Nothing is worse than waking up more exhausted than you were when you went to bed,” Michelle said between inhalations of the liquid black love swimming in her cup.

  “What I wouldn’t do for some half-and-half and brown sugar right now,” I offered up, hoping like hell someone would proffer a hand with packets of each.

  No dice.

  We shared a few precious distractions, thanks to the sacred art of coffee. About halfway through my first cup everyone that could actually get vertical had joined us and was pouring their own serving of morning ignition. I had to hand it to the French, they did enjoy their coffee ridiculously strong.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Gunther asked between sips.

  “Survival,” was Zander’s taut response.

  “The plan has not changed. Jean and I are still focused on the cure. Everyone else helps this little family stay alive.” I wanted to bring up the video I was given audience to, but decided to hold the thought until I was alone with Jean. There was still a cloud of doubt hanging over Zander’s head, and I didn’t want to give away what might be the most precious cargo of information to date.

  What I needed to do was keep Zander busy, but partner him with someone so he wouldn’t get the opportunity to do anything that could bring to life the conspiracy theories dancing about in my subconscious. The obvious choice was Gunther. I went with it and had them check all access to the building to make sure nothing could get in. This included both basement and roof access. Sending them up to the roof also allowed us to get a bird’s eye view of the surrounding area. The building wasn’t the tallest building in the city, but it was certainly high enough to give us a view of the entire neighborhood.