by Jack Wallen
Faddig reached the medical lab door and started to knock─second thoughts halted his arm. He grabbed the handle and pulled the door open.
JayLynn sat, head in hands, weeping. Faddig took in the moment, swelling with a pride he hadn’t felt in a while.
He spoke with a peaceful, comforting tone. “Being feared feeds my soul.”
JayLynn choked back the remaining sobs and sat up straight. Instead of the clichéd mascara lines seeping down her cheeks, she was blank…empty, like she’d wept out every last bit of emotion she’d owned. She spoke with a voice too deep for her perky, delicate features. “Why are you doing this?”
Faddig laughed. “Power.” He stood before the doctor and laced his fingers behind his head, as if expecting something to fill his rotting core. The gesture wasn’t lost on JayLynn. She stood and wiped the shame from her face.
“You have that,” JayLynn spat.
“I have nothing. Until I am the sole proprietor of the human race, I am incomplete.”
JayLynn turned to Faddig, her face drawn in tight with anger. “You’re a goddamn sociopath.”
Faddig’s hand launched out and wrapped long, vise-like fingers around JayLynn’s neck. The look on her face was simple─welcoming.
“Do it,” JayLynn choked out. “Please.”
Faddig tilted his head and smiled. “Do you understand the value of science? It is the new gold standard. A bit ironic, don’t you think, how a few short years ago, another dogma threatened the very extinction of logical thought? Now? Where would we be without the great God science?” He released his grip on her throat, but pulled JayLynn in tight. “We’d be the lost children of Eden, desperate to gain purchase on reason and justification for what God had done to us.” The commander guided JayLynn to a surgical table, on which perched an AmScope 2000X Biological microscope. He gestured to the appliance. “What do you see in there?”
JayLynn stared back, confused and afraid to answer.
“You see grace under pressure. Over that microscopic world, you hold a power not unlike God.” Faddig pointed. “Look.”
JayLynn stood, frozen.
“Look!” Faddig shouted.
“There isn’t a slide prepared.”
Faddig rolled up his sleeve and proffered the soft side of his forearm. “Look within me.”
“I don’t understand, Commander.”
Faddig’s face instantly shaded to red. “Take my blood!” His voice crescendoed until the last syllable was screamed at the top of his lungs.
JayLynn stumbled backwards and send a rolling cart crashing into a wall. She turned and scrambled for the phlebotomy kit. She awkwardly placed the kit beside Faddig and prepared to draw his blood. “I─I don’t─” she started.
“You don’t what?” Faddig rasped.
“I don’t understand what we can gain from this.”
Faddig chuckled and then said with ease, “Let’s find out together, shall we?”
The needle plunged through the dermis on Faddig’s forearm and into a thick, worm-like vein. JayLynn inserted the collection vial and waited for it to fill. Once the flow of scarlet peaked in the vial, she withdrew it and placed a square of alcohol-soaked gauze over the puncture.
“Good, good,” Faddig hissed. “Now, tell me what you see.”
JayLynn prepped the smear and slipped the slide under the retaining springs. After one last glance at Faddig, she placed her eyes over the scope’s viewing cups. “I don’t understand.” She pulled away from the scope and shot a fright-filled look toward Faddig. “What have you done?”
“You see it, don’t you?” Faddig spoke calmly. “The mad dance of life and death, caught in a singular bastardized cell. Cancer and cure, all in one game-changing package. That, my dear doctor, is power.”
JayLynn gasped. “You’ve completed the Heizer Sequence. The work that Godwin and Michaels started. What was supposed to be a super cure─” JayLynn’s voice stuttered as her mind grasped for the words and logic to complete the thread of thought. “You son of a bitch. How could you do this?”
Faddig grabbed the doctor’s hand and gave it a crushing squeeze. “I had no choice. When you reach a certain level of power, you have to be willing to whore yourself to the highest bidder. To safeguard everything I have worked towards, I’ve done a bit of secret experimentation on myself.” The commander rolled down and buttoned his sleeve. “Funny thing, the Heizer Sequence. Drs. Godwin and Michaels would never have succeeded in fully reaching stabilization, because what they needed didn’t exist yet.”
“Jacob,” JayLynn whispered.
“Indeed. I’ve managed the impossible, doctor─I am simultaneously alive and dead. I am the greatest enigma to ever exist. I am the question and answer, the alpha and omega.” Faddig snatched up the hypodermic and plunged it, with deadly accuracy, into JayLynn’s right eye. Without hesitation, he removed the needle and let it fall to the floor.
“You should not have revealed your discovery like that,” Faddig growled. “I liked you, but you’ve given me no choice.”
JayLynn mumbled and staggered backwards, her hands trying in vain to press away the pain radiating from the damaged eyeball. Her right ankle folded on top of the two-and-a-half-inch heels and she dropped. As the world drifted into a swirl of slow motion, JayLynn could sense what little life remained in her world was forfeit.
She wept. “I don’t want to die.”
Faddig laughed. “My darling, who said anything about you dying? I need you now more than ever. You see, you’re going to serve as my new testing ground. The validity of my experiment was proved using the very blood that flows through my system. Now that I’m infected, I’m of no use to the experiment. I need new blood in order to tweak the Cradle. That new blood, my dear, flows within you.”
JayLynn shook a waterfall of tears from her undamaged eye. “Don’t do this. Please.”
“You mean make you the Eve to my Adam?” Faddig shifted from sinister to sweet within the beat of a heart. “Think about it, doctor. You and I will be the progenitor from which all life will now spring. You will birth the next evolution of man─one in absolute supplication to me.”
JayLynn desperately glanced about the room in search of the means to end the nightmare. Faddig’s voice slowed and morphed into one long, low stream of sound until she spotted everything she needed.
Like a striking cobra, JayLynn’s hand shot out and snatched a scalpel from the microscope table. Before Faddig could reject her offering, she swiped the fatally sharp blade up one wrist and then the other. A crimson river ran down both arms as the doctor dropped to her knees.
Tears fell from JayLynn’s eyes to water down the pooling blood at her hands. She heaved in a slight, stuttering breath.
“What have you done?” Faddig whispered as he grasped for JayLynn’s flayed wrists. Liquid life pumped slower and slower from the wreckage. “I would have made you my queen.”
JayLynn opened her mouth and spoke with a fading voice. “The Heizer Sequence was flawed. I know where the…” JayLynn’s voice faded to silence.
Faddig grabbed a handful of JayLynn’s hair and brought her paling face to bear on his. “What are you saying? What is it that you know?”
JayLynn smiled weakly and said, “Funny thing, the Heizer Sequence.”
Life faded from the once-vibrant woman, her impish eye grew dull and her flesh cold.
Faddig stood and smoothed the wrinkles in his pressed linen Oxford. His face grew pinched as he did his best to resume control over his broiling emotional state. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible. “You knew all along, didn’t you, bitch?”
The flesh of Faddig’s neck blanched as the red of rage traveled toward his cheeks. He spun and overturned the surgical table holding the microscope.
“Fuck!” Faddig screamed.
As the room fell to silence, Faddig drew in cleansing breaths and reined in his emotions. He opened the door and stepped out into the cool air of the hall. Each footfall sang out a softer song, until Fadd
ig was finally walking with peace. Just as he reached the command room, he buttoned his jacket and smoothed back his hair.
Faddig pulled the door open and stepped through. Every officer in attendance snapped to attention. The commander waved them at ease and turned to the communications officer. “Where are we on locating Gerrand?”
The officer slowly shook his head to answer the dreaded question.
Faddig addressed every officer in the room. “The continuation of your lives is contingent upon bringing Gerrand in. If you fail, you will all die by my hand. Is that clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” The gathered officers shouted.
eleven | screamers and boners
“Son of a bitch,” Rondo shouted as the bus came to a stop.
The driver shook his head. “We’re not going that way, sir.”
The highway was a logjam of abandoned cars and random Moaners waiting, as patient as death, for a next meal.
Gerrand pointed. “The shoulder. Surely this thing can slog through grass.”
The driver turned and stared at Rondo who, in turn, shouted over his shoulder, “Rusty, front and center.”
The lumbering soldier stepped forward. “I was just falling asleep, sir.” When he spied what lay before him he thrust his head downward and hissed, “Son of a bitch.”
Rondo slapped Rusty in the gut. “You’re the engineer of the group. What are the chances of this vehicle safely making it past this mess on that shoulder?”
“You needed me to figure that shit out? You’re kidding, right?”
Rondo shot a glance to Rusty, who held up his arms and mumbled, “Okay. You’re the boss.”
Rusty stepped up to the front of the bus and took in the situation. “My engineer brain says that shoulder is wide enough to accommodate this here high-tech military-grade vehicle…sir.”
“No need to be a smart-ass, Rusty,” Rondo spat.
Rusty grinned and said, “Oh, sir, you know there’s always a need to be a smart-ass.”
“So we can make it?”
Rusty nodded. “Sure, the bus can fit through the area. As to whether or not we can make it past those zombies in one piece is another story altogether. But as long as you get enough momentum going, and keep said momentum going, there’s no way that amount of zombies could stop a moving object with this much mass.”
“You mean this much ass,” Manolo shouted from the back of the bus. She stood up and smacked her backside. “Hey, dudes, does this bus make my ass look fat?”
The rear of the bus exploded with laughter.
Rusty flipped the bird to the hecklers.
“What kind of speed are we talking?” asked the driver.
Rusty turned back and silently ran through a quick calculation. “You reach at least thirty-five, you’ll be okay. You drop below that speed, though, and we are fucked.”
Rondo laughed. “Those fucking Moaners are lucky to hit five miles per hour. Why in the hell do we need to reach thirty-five?”
All signs of humor melted from Rusty’s face as the sound of Screamers reached the bus. “Because that. I officially reject my last calculation. This bus dives below fifty-five and death will have no problem stopping this tin can and getting to the sweet meats within.”
The screaming symphony rose like hell-born banshees.
“Or,” Rusty started, “we could just sit here and wait for those bastards to arrive in force. At that point, we might as well toss our hands in the air like we just don’t…give a fuck.”
The driver reached for the shifter. “I think the choice is clear.”
Rondo ordered Rusty back to his seat and addressed the troops. “Listen up, ladies and ass-hats, we’re about to pull a party crash that could land us in an ugly state of dead. So if you’re not okay with a bit of risk, I suggest you step out of the bus now and go your merry way.”
“Hoorah,” Manolo shouted.
Rusty turned to the woman and shook his head. “This ain’t the Marines, douchewad.”
Manolo sucker-punched Rusty in the shoulder. “It ain’t the Girl Scouts either, romcon.”
Rondo turned a fear-inducing look toward the team. Everyone instantly fell silent. “Grab your asses, kids. The ride’s about to get bumpy.”
Rondo turned and patted the driver on the shoulder. “Go,” he said with finality.
The driver spun the wheel as the bus lurched forwards. The second the engine wound up, the raging nightmare of distant Screamers punched the darkening sky in the gut.
Gerrand leaned in toward Rondo and said firmly, “I’m fairly certain I count five Screamers.”
“Is that all?” asked Rondo.
“All? You’re joking, right? I once watched two Screamers peel open a trolley car to get to a measly three people. We have a bus filled with human delicacies, so those monsters will stop at nothing to get to us. What I was trying to tell you is that our odds of survival…”
Rondo held up a hand to silence Gerrand. “I don’t want to know. I have propped my life against the sheer will of my determination. If I say we’re going to make it…”
The bus rocked against the uneven shift from pavement to grass. As soon as the driver had the vehicle parallel to the shoulder, he punched the gas and the motor roared. “Shit’s about to get real,” the driver shouted.
The bus continued gaining speed, beyond the requisite fifty-five. At seventy, the wobble and shake threatened to vibrate the very core of the machine loose. The raging, metallic screech of the oncoming Screamer gang pulsed against the steel hull of the bus. The driver nervously veered to the left and the driver’s side mirror exploded against a sign post.
And then another sound joined the damned symphony. Clack of bone and thunderous, guttural roar.
Rondo scanned the median and the road ahead. “Son of a bitch.” He braced himself and turned to face the crew. “I need a gunner up top. We’ve got bad news on the way.”
A single male stood and nodded.
Manolo clapped loudly. “Atta boy, Serge. I knew there was at least one man among us with balls bigger than mine.”
Without a word, Serge dropped the roof hatch, lowered the ladder, and climbed. On the roof, a fifty caliber machine gun was mounted. Full clip. Ready to rock. Serge pulled the hatch up, locked it, clipped his feet into position, and sat in the makeshift sniper chair bolted to the roof. As soon as his fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the weapon, the first of the armored zombies came into sight.
“Fucking Boners,” Serge hissed as he took aim. He drew in a deadly breath and held it tight within his lungs. He counted softly, “One. Two. Three,” and slowly released the air.
The first shot struck home. The armor plating covering the nearest Boner shattered in a puff of dust and the twisted bit of evolution dropped.
As Serge sought out his next target, the high-pitched hell-song of a Screamer rattled his attention. The monster leaped from twenty yards out and still managed to stick the landing on the side of the vehicle. Serge twisted the fifty caliber beast as near the zombie as he could, but the pivots wouldn’t spin enough. He reached toward his feet to undo the lashings. Before his fingers gained purchase on the mechanism, he heard a single shot. A splatter of thick, brown goo splashed down before him and the Screamer dropped from the bus. Serge ignored the sting of fear licking at base of his neck and returned his focus on the task at hand.
“Where are you?” he said, and scanned the area as it flew by at top speed. His gaze bounced about until it landed on a pair of zombies, a Screamer and a Boner at war. The Screamer hammered at the armored skull of its foe…to no end. The Boner hefted the Screamer above its head, held at the neck and ankles, and pulled. As the bastard unseated the Screamer’s spine, Serge locked his sight onto thing’s forehead, exhaled, and pulled the trigger.
Bits of Screamer and lifeless Boner dropped as one.
Back inside the bus, Rusty and Manolo had their windows lowered and were unleashing their own flavor of destruction upon the horde.
; Manolo pulled off a shot that went wide. “Take it easy on the bumps, goddamn it. I couldn’t hit Kim Kardashian’s ass like this.”
“I don’t think hitting her ass is what you’d prefer, Manolo,” Rusty retorted.
“At least I’d have a chance with the bitch.” Manolo released another bullet, this time dropping her target. “Fuck, yeah. That’s how we do it in Southey.”
“Bullshit,” another member of the team shouted. “In Southey, you insert the bullets manually.”
“Fuckin’ A, Sausage Roll,” replied Manolo with a laugh.
From above, the fifty caliber continued raining down death.
Another Screamer leaped onto the bus. With a single punch, its hand crashed through the window that separated Sausage Roll and the outside world. The Screamer snatched the man’s neck in its grip and, with a single yank, pulled him from the bus and tossed him like a stuffed scarecrow to the pavement. The Screamer jumped and was last seen cracking open the lifeless man’s skull and scooping out fingerfuls of gray matter.
Manolo turned her weapon toward the Screamer fading in the distance, and released shot after shot until Rusty pulled her hand away from the trigger. “He’s gone, girl. Nothing we can do but move on.”
“Son of a bitch!” Rondo’s scream broke the spell of the moment. All eyes turned to the front to see two Boners rushing toward the speeding vehicle.
Rusty moved to the left side of the bus and hung out a window, while Manolo brought her rifle to bear from the right. Both unleashed a torrent of bullets at the juggernauts about to destroy the hopes and dreams of mankind.
The Boners were within feet of the bus before the fifty cal punched bullets through each skull. Both beasts dropped. The sound of crushing bone under wheel brought shouts of victory from the crew. Before they could celebrate the moment, everyone scanned the battlefield for more of the undead enemy.
“All clear,” Rondo shouted. “For now.”
The trap door dropped from the roof and Serge climbed back inside to cheers and fist bumps.
“Just doing my job, bitches,” Serge cried out.
“Hang onto your butts,” the driver shouted. The bus veered to the right and bounced over the hump of highway until its tires once again kissed pavement.
