I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  three | the cradle

  Faddig rose from his cot, prepared a cup of tea, and dressed. His linen suit was tattered and stained, but he went through the motions as if he were donning elegance fit for royalty. Once his cobalt silk tie was properly Windsored, he strode from his makeshift quarters, teacup in hand, and made his way to the control center of the temporary facilities. The building was far smaller than they needed…but was nothing more than a stopgap until the ZDC could procure something a bit more fitting.

  “Sir,” the COM officer stood and snapped to attention with a salute.

  Faddig nodded, and the man in olive-green and scarlet-red relaxed.

  “Report, Donaldson,” Commander Faddig ordered.

  “Sir.” The young Jim Donaldson sat and glanced at the monitor before him. “Alpha squad has dispatched what remained of the security team and are in the process of sweeping the building. It’s very likely we’ll be able to converge on the property by nightfall.”

  Faddig leaned over Donaldson’s shoulder and peered at the images on the screen. “It’s the perfect location. No one will suspect the Zero Day Collective is working out of there.” Faddig pointed to the map displaying Universal City, California. Buildings and parking lots spanned blocks. “What is the surrounding population?”

  Donaldson glanced to Faddig with a crooked smile. “Undead, sir.”

  Faddig patted Jim on the shoulder. “Good.” The commander straightened and turned to face the main monitor, on which was displayed a massive grid of numbered squares. “Is the Cradle ready to be released?”

  “We’re finishing up the com device tests. So far, everything appears to be functioning perfectly.”

  Faddig turned to Donaldson and drew in a deep breath. “Did the language precursor take?”

  Donaldson nodded with a toothy grin. “Yes, sir. Everything checks out.”

  “Good. Very, very good.” Faddig sucked dry the dregs of his tea. “The second the Cradle is ready, I want them loaded up and transported to the target. It’s time we fire up the machine of capitalism once more.”

  Faddig leaned forward and cupped a hand to his ear. “What is that I hear?”

  Donaldson shook his head. “Sorry, sir, I don’t hear anything.”

  “It’s the sound of profit and power, officer. Profit and motherfucking power. No matter what anyone has ever said to you, that is what spins the globe on its axis. Without the two ‘P’s, humans would be nothing more than sniveling beasts.” Faddig pointed at the overhead monitor. “And with the Cradle, we will own this damnable world.”

  Individual squares on the monitor began to light up.

  “Arise, my soldiers,” Faddig whispered as a bead of sweat raced down his forehead and into his eye. “Why is it so hot in here?”

  “Sir, the solar panels have yet to collect enough energy to power the AC units.”

  “Well, when in the hell do you expect the most powerful man in the goddamn world can cool off?” Faddig screamed.

  Donaldson glanced at his watch. “They should kick in around eleven, sir.”

  “By then I will have simmered in my own fucking gravy. I want those units powered on as soon as possible.”

  Donaldson nodded, nerves ready to unmake him any moment. “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “I have no business leading the Zero Day Collective from a tin can.”

  “I-I-I agree, sir,” Donaldson stuttered. “We should be fully relocated by end of week, sir.”

  Faddig turned on the officer and snarled. “I will hold you to that, Donaldson. Should you fail to deliver on such a promise, you will join the Cradle.” Faddig tapped the man on the forehead. “I’m fairly confident you understand the ramifications of that statement, correct?”

  Donaldson nodded and said reluctantly, “Sir…yes, sir.”

  “Atta boy, soldier.” Faddig returned his attention to the monitor. Half of the squares were lit up. “I’d hate for you to become little more than a statistic on our board.”

  As the squares continued their Christmas-like display, Faddig whispered the numbers as they each glowed a luminescent green.

  “Seventy-seven, forty-five, thirty, nineteen, eighty-one, ninety-five, twenty-two, thirty-eight, forty-four, seventy-six, seventy-seven.” Faddig laughed. “Fancy that we’d have two numerals in chronological order. What are the odds it happens again?”

  Donaldson shook his head while his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.

  “There’s no need to fear me, Jim.” Faddig winked. “At least…not yet.”

  Faddig stole one last glance at the monitor and left the room.

  The hall of the cramped quarters was shy of eighteen inches and made for quick fits of claustrophobia. Early on, Faddig could traverse such corridors without issue. That was then…this was the here and now, in which the man’s sensitivities had gone unchecked for months.

  Faddig stopped, mid-stride, and pressed his hands against the walls of the narrow passageway. He breathed deeply the stale air and felt the nervous tick return to his left eye.

  As he was about to continue on, the door behind him opened and Donaldson called out, “Sir, the Cradle is ready.”

  Faddig turned on his heels and raised his chin past the horizontal plane. He closed his eyes for a moment and allowed a brief smile to grace his lips. “Allow me the pleasure.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Faddig returned to the Command room and stopped before the main monitor.

  “Look at them all,” he said, lost in some euphoric reverie. My children are ready to play with their toys.” Faddig drew in a deep breath before he said, “…And make me rich beyond compare.”

  Donaldson handed Faddig a satellite phone. He put the phone to his ear just as someone answered the call. “This is commander Faddig. Release the Cradle.”

  “Authorization code,” a voice on the other end requested.

  “Ceti Alpha Six,” Faddig said with the voice of a man seducing a lover. He couldn’t help but grin at the time-honored reference to Star Trek. I feel like Khan, he thought as he waited for confirmation.

  “Authorization confirmed,” the voice responded. “Cradle release initialized.”

  Faddig handed the phone back to Donaldson. “Show me.”

  Donaldson tapped out a few quick commands on a keyboard and the chessboard of numbers shifted to a real-time video feed of the Cradle’s unleashing. The perspective of the shot was from outside a building—the camera pointing directly at a large, metal overhead door.

  “Do we have audio?” Faddig asked.

  “No, sir, only video.”

  Faddig pursed his lips and shook his head. “I want to hear this.” He snapped his head so he could glare menacingly at the young officer and shouted, “Now!”

  Donaldson fumbled for the phone and stumbled as he punched in a number. After a few quick rings, he stuttered into the receiver, “W-we need au-audio immediately.” He listened and then responded with an outburst of his own. “I d-don’t give a fuck what you have to do. M-m-make it happen now.”

  Jim’s fingers furiously tapped at a keyboard until the sound of the massive garage door opening spilled from the monitor.

  “Son,” Faddig said calmly, “you might well have just saved your own life.”

  Donaldson collapsed into the chair behind his desk and wiped his brow with an already stained sleeve; his chest heaved as his breathing strained to find some semblance of calm.

  Once the door was fully opened, the monitor went silent. Beyond flecks of dust and dirt slowly drifting on a flaccid wind, there was no movement…no sound.

  “What is happening?” Faddig asked, his voice breaking. “Why have they not…”

  Before Faddig could finish his question, the first of the Cradle appeared…a rail-thin woman, clad in a tattered sundress and Chuck Taylor sneakers. She glanced around, holding her hand over her eyes to block the glare of the sun. The only sign of death was the pallid hue of her flesh.

  A second member of the Cradle eme
rged—a large male, bald and angry. He glanced up toward the camera, his yellowed irises a spider web of bloody vessels.

  There was no rage, no sign of destructive hunger. The overriding look on their faces was curiosity.

  The male opened his mouth, and an odd clicking pattern was picked up by the microphone. The female turned to meet the male’s gaze and repeated the pattern.

  “What am I seeing?” Faddig asked.

  Donaldson tapped out a command with rapid-fire precision. The monitor screen split in half—the left half retaining the video feed from the release and the right half returning to the grid of squares.

  Two green squares on the monitor pulsed—numbers twelve and sixty-one. Faddig’s gaze bounced between the two images on the monitor. Almost immediately it became clear what he was seeing. Each time one of the creatures clicked and popped, their associated square would pulse in the same rhythm and cadence.

  Donaldson said with an exaggerated pride, “You’re seeing the Cradle communicate.”

  “What are they saying?” Faddig whispered.

  “No idea. A translation protocol was never conceived.”

  Faddig drew in close to the monitor. “Fascinating.”

  A third member of the Cradle exited the building and immediately walked past the original two. One by one, the other members entered and exited the scene, leaving the first of the beasts behind.

  The frail female finally turned back toward the building and, after a moment, walked away. The remaining male slammed the palm of his hand against a large red button, and the steel garage door noisily lowered itself to the ground.

  Faddig said in a quiet reverence, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”

  The male calmly walked off-screen.

  Faddig continued. “Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” The commander raised his arms to his sides and dropped his head back. “I am God and I shall remake man and woman in my image.”

  four | scavenger hunt

  “Are you sure about this?” Morgan asked, her normally sweet face lined and creased with concern.

  I nodded. “Yes, I am. It only makes sense for me and Jamal to do this. Besides, I need you here to protect Jacob and the girls.”

  Morgan smiled and pulled me in for a hug. “If you don’t come back, I will find you and I will kill you.”

  “Okay, Liam. I promise to return,” I replied.

  “Intact,” Morgan wagged her finger my way.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I teased.

  “Ready, B.?” Jamal arrived. His backpack was already stuffed to bursting.

  “How are we going to pick up supplies if you’re already full?” I asked, confused as hell.

  Jamal winked and unshouldered his pack. “Looks can be deceiving, my dear. Behold.” Jamal unzipped his pack to reveal an empty shell. “I’ve built in a little bomb-proof protection. I don’t want to wind up falling on my back and crushing the delicate contents within. The last thing we need is me dying of a chemical spill and preventing Gerrand from doing his thing and saving all our asses.” Jamal re-zipped and shouldered the pack. “I rock like this, I roll like that. Shall we go?”

  “Not yet!” The sound of Echo’s desperate voice shot out of the house. Seconds later, my young ninja raced from the door toward me. At my side, Echo handed over a small pack. “There’s food and water in this. You’ll need it.” Echo turned to go but stopped herself short. “There’s an extra radio in there, as well as batteries and a portable solar charger. If you don’t stay in touch—”

  “Let me guess,” I interrupted, “you’ll find me and you’ll kill me.”

  Echo shook her head. “I was going to say I’d go fetal and weep. But I’m good with what you said.”

  I waved Jamal on. As we were exiting the door, Gerrand stopped us short. “I believe you will need this.”

  Richard extended his arm to me. In his hand was a nylon belt covered in equidistantly spaced compartments. On the side of the belt was a modified pistol.

  “This isn’t…” I started.

  “The last of our Fry. You’re going to need it.”

  “We can’t take it all.” I attempted to hand the belt back, but was stopped by Morgan.

  “Don’t argue, Bethany. We can protect ourselves. You and Jamal won’t have a small army at your disposal. Take it.”

  All eyes were on me…insistent in their stare.

  “Fine.” I grabbed the belt and wrapped it around my waist. “Let’s get out of here, J-Mart, before they make us wear full Mithril armor.”

  “That would be sweet,” Jamal sang as he made his grand exit. I followed close behind and shut the door. Jamal turned back to me and blinked. “I gotta confess B-dizz…”

  Jamal paused, blinked again, and offered up a crooked smile.

  “I’m nervous as hell about this. I didn’t want anyone in there to know…but damn, this is some scary shit.”

  I patted the dart gun on my side. “As long as we have this, we’ll be just fine.”

  “Until we run out of that. Then we’ll be fucked.” Jamal’s eyes grew wide as he smiled and reached behind him. “Or will we?”

  Jamal extracted a pistol of his own. It had the same modifications as the one Gerrand had handed me.

  “Where did you get that?”

  “The good doctor slipped it to me while you were finishing up your packing.” Jamal lifted his Hack The Planet tee shirt. “I gots a belt, too.” He opened his mouth and cackled. “Oh, snap, Bethanatrix thought she was the only special one in hizzy. Ooooooh…she ain’t.”

  “You’re insane, Jamal.”

  “And you are sexy when you’re ready for battle.”

  I made my way over to the bikes.

  “Did I ever tell you just how sexy you are, Bethany Nitshimi?”

  I turned on Jamal. “Jamal…I love you. I don’t know if that’s what you’re getting at, but there it is. I can’t remember the last time I said it, but I do…love you. In fact, I cannot imagine trying to navigate this hell-storm without you by my side. When I…when Jacob died, I was certain love would never be an option again. But then you came along and reminded me why we were so fucking crazy about one another back in school. You brought me back to life, Jamal…in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

  Jamal shook his head. “I wasn’t actually going for that, but I’ll gladly take it.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. “I love you, B…more than I ever thought possible.”

  I pushed Jamal away and teased, “So what…are you my boyfriend now or something?”

  “Girl, I am…you know…of course I mean…what you said.”

  “Say it, or it never happened,” I prodded.

  A glint of light reflected off Jamal’s eyes and his smile nearly blinded me. “You’re my bitch.”

  My fist landed square in Jamal’s right shoulder. I drew back for another round and Jamal cowered. “I was just messing with you, B. Damn straight, you’re my girlfriend.”

  “Now that that’s out of the way, shall we venture beyond the wall and into purest hate?”

  Jamal’s eyebrows shot up. “When you put it that way, how can I resist?”

  We each threw a leg over the bikes and started pedaling toward the wall. On the other side waited two identical mountain bikes, ready for the long haul. The system had worked out well so far and there was no reason to change it. Each bike was outfitted with multiple water bottle cages, machete mounts, and portable Obliterators—powered by old-school Dynamo bike light generators. The only caveat to the Obliterators was that you had to hit at least eighteen miles an hour to get the pitch high enough to be effective. Fortunately, the apocalypse insisted we all be in the best shape of our lives, so eighteen miles per hour was nothing to achieve.

  From out of nowhere, Jamal started humming. I recognized the tune immediately and started humming along. By t
he time we reached the wall we were both singing “We Are The Champions” at the top of our lungs.

  Rookie mistake…but sometimes you’ve gotta let go and let Queen.

  Jamal and I stood at the base of the towering edifice of concrete, steel, wire, wood, and anything else we could add to protect us from the outside world.

  “Beyond this wall,” Jamal whispered, “awaits the incarnation of every single comment made on social networking. It will be ugly out there, and we will be challenged.”

  I draped my arm over Jamal’s shoulders and said, “But we will overcome the vitriol of the trolls and haters. Our might is legion, and their game is weak.”

  Jamal gestured toward the wall. “After you, my dear.”

  “You’re too kind, gentle sir.” I curtsied.

  “I just wanna look at your butt.” Jamal winked.

  One punch, and I started up the wall.

  We reached the top together and draped our burning arms over the edge to catch a quick rest. Below us, the locked-up bikes awaited.

  “You remembered the keys to the bike locks, right?”

  Jamal’s eyes bugged and his jaw dropped. “You never said anything about keys. If you knew we needed keys to unlock the damn bikes, why didn’t you get them yourself? I can’t be held responsible for everything…can I?”

  “I’m just messing with you, Jamal. The locks are combination.”

  “Please tell me you have the combinations memorized, Bethany.”

  I hesitated before finally nodded. “I do, Jamal. Your birthday and my birthday.”

  “You are one crafty woman, Nitshimi.” Jamal returned his gaze out over the landscape. “I knew about the locks.”

  “You did not,” I clucked.

  “Did, too.”

  I pulled myself up over the wall. “Are we ten now?”

  “I am what I am, Bethleen,” Jamal teased.

  We carefully descended to the dry, cracked earth below and silently unlocked the bikes.

  “Jesus, it’s quiet,” Jamal whispered. “Like horror movie quiet…right before the monster jumps out of nowhere to attack the last remaining virgins. I don’t wanna die like that, B. You know monsters love them some chocolate, so they’ll be going for me first.”