I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  “A quick little jaunt into the unknown won’t hurt us,” I replied.

  It was Jamal’s turn to laugh. “You’ve got to be joking, B-Diddy. The unknown is the very thing that hurts us over and over. There could be an entire city of the damned on the other side of this wall.”

  “I just want to climb up and have a look, Jamal. Sate my curiosity, and we’ll return to the bikes and the quest. Besides, if we’re looking into the eye of an undead storm, they can’t hurt us from the crow’s nest.”

  Jamal huffed and hung his head. “Fine. But promise me curiosity won’t get the best of you and insist we climb down the other side and mingle with the undead.”

  “I promise,” I said…hesitantly.

  We leaned the bikes against the wall, and Jamal set about to quickly lock them to a piece of framing that jutted from the structure. He gave the lock a quick yank and offered a thumbs up.

  “Zombie proof?” I quipped.

  “Hell yeah. Although…I’d happily hand the bikes over to see a Moaner take a spin around the block.”

  “You’re outta your mind, J-Mart.” I winked. “I lurvs you all the same.”

  “You’re the comments to my code, Nitshimi.”

  I couldn’t stop the grin from plastering itself across my lips. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, Jamal.”

  Jamal hit me up with a double finger-gun salute. “It’s how I roll.”

  My head slowly pivoted on its axis and my eyes spun up in search of my brain. “Climb. Now.”

  We hit the wall with a pace that wasn’t leisurely nor fierce. Caution was the word of the day. From the bottom to the top, the vertical surface was about fifty feet…so reaching the top took considerable effort.

  “This thing is certainly higher than our wall,” I said.

  “Size queen,” Jamal teased.

  “Do I dare reply to that?”

  “Only if you relish the idea of bringing me to tears.”

  I answered in a mocking silence.

  “Ouch,” Jamal cried out.

  “Shut up and climb, J-Man. You’ve got nothing to worry about in the…boudoir.”

  The chit-chat fell to silence as the climb began to wear on our arms and legs. Sweat collected in my eyes, making it difficult to find the next handhold. I had to stop and, with one hand holding fast to the wall, put an end to the salty sting.

  It seemed like forever, but we finally managed to reach the top. When I looped my arms over the wall, grabbing whatever I could to secure myself, the view threatened to send me back-flipping to the dusty ground below.

  “What in the name of bat-shit crazy am I seeing, B.? Is this the set of an unfilmed Mad Max movie?”

  Jamal’s description was dead on. Within the wall was an entire civilization that seemed to be isolated completely from reality. People strutted around in studded leather and foot-high mohawks. Ridiculously loud motorbikes, complete with extended rear ends and skulls for headlights, roared past.

  “Shit,” Jamal pointed.

  I followed his finger to see a four-prop drone hovering a few yards from us. The thing clearly had a camera, and the lens was pointing directly toward us.

  “It has a…” Jamal started. “Holy fuck-stick. The thing has been retrofitted with a solar panel. That’s pure genius. Why did I not think of that? You could easily use that as a scout from a central command…”

  “Jamal!” I hissed, stopping him short.

  “What did I do?” Jamal’s voice was too close to whine.

  “That drone could be recording everything we say and do. So…” I made the universal gesture for shut the fuck up.

  “What is your business here?” the drone said in a raspy, faux British voice that brought to mind Vyvyan from The Young Ones. How that random thought bubbled up from the archives, I’d probably never know.

  “No freakin’ way,” Jamal whispered. “This thing is brilliant.”

  I glanced at the drone and said, with as much confidence as I could muster, “We were just passing through and wanted to see what delights could be found on the other side of the wall.”

  The drone’s four props buzzed like a squad of giant bees. After a moment, the voice returned. “Welcome to Madness. Enter our world. I cannot promise your safety, but I can promise you’ll never forget your visit. We have no rules, no laws. Within this massive edifice anything goes…but not the musical. We bloody hate musicals. You police and protect yourselves as best you can. Make friends, lose enemies, and you should be tip top.”

  “Who are you?” Jamal blurted out.

  “My name is Vordric. I am the Overlord of Madness.”

  Jamal glanced back out over the scenery before us. “Jesus, this reminds me of a bad Molly Ringwald film.”

  “Spacehunter,” I called out.

  “Enter if you dare,” Vordric said with a fervent tone. “Otherwise, begone.”

  The drone buzzed off, leaving us staring at one another.

  “I cannot tell you how much I want to enter that world below, B. You know Mad Max Fury Road is one of my all time favorite films.”

  I literally shook my damn head. “Watching and living that film are two very different things, Jamal. I’m not sure if we’re ready for that level of badassery.” I returned my focus to the science fiction theatre below. A dune buggy with a giant flag depicting a flaming toad raced by…its noisy exhaust coughing plumes of thick, black smoke into the air. “Besides, we have Fry-gredients to locate.”

  “Damn you, common sense,” Jamal huffed. “I get to have zero fun thanks to logic and reason. One of these days I’m going to throw those bastards out the window and fun so hard, Spock will appear out of nowhere and slap me straight into pon farr.”

  Reluctantly, Jamal joined me in the descent to the ground. He groaned all the way back down, until I had to promise we’d vacation in Madness once we’d delivered the goods to Gerrand.

  The bikes were still in their place. Before Jamal unlocked them, we decided now was the best time to fuel up. The Utah heat was a serious foe few could best. We cautiously chugged some liquid life and gnawed on an energy bar each.

  I glanced into my pack and noticed a severe lack of sustenance. When I turned my gaze to Jamal, he read my mind and said, “Next stop, our priority is locating food…then Gerrand’s list. I think, in keeping with the idea of surviving this little jaunt, we’re going to forget Morgan asked us to investigate a few locations. We have three more stops before we can return home, and I don’t want to try pedaling that far without fuel.” Jamal glanced at his queue sheet. He pulled out his phone and stared for a bit. “My best guess is we’re looking at about three more hours on bikes. That should get us back to New Salt Lake just before sunset.”

  With that in mind, we finished up the last of our repast, mounted the bikes, and sped off toward our next destination.

  nine | attack attack

  Morgan paced the main room of the headquarters, each footfall growing louder until she stopped at the dining room table and slammed her balled-up fists onto the solid top. The percussive attack sent cups, pencils, and anything else not attached tumbling. “I don’t like this.”

  Josh leaned his chair until it hovered at the tipping point, his size twelve combat boots resting soundly on the table. “Could you narrow it down a bit? There’s a lot of shit not to like these days.”

  Morgan tossed a very un-newlywed-like glare Josh’s way.

  “Whoa there, sweet mamma.” Josh shot innocent hands into the air. “I don’t remember doing anything and, if I did, I apologize for it…whatever it was.”

  “You didn’t do anything, Josh.”

  Both Josh and Morgan sighed…each for very different reasons.

  “Then what gives, Morgo?” Josh asked.

  Morgan tossed a curious glance at her husband. “Morgo? What the hell is that?”

  “New nickname I wanted to try out. What do ya think?”

  “I’d rather you call me anything but that.”

 
; “Anything?” Josh dared ask.

  Silence blanketed the moment. Josh immediately wished he could retract his statement and erase the moment from memory.

  “I don’t like doing nothing,” Morgan huffed.

  “Now that I can relate to,” Josh dropped his feet to the ground. “Why don’t we…”

  “We have one job, Josh…protect these kids and the baby. We fuck that up, and Bethany will end us. Besides, what in the hell is there for us to do?”

  “For one, we could search for food. That has got to become a priority soon.” Josh leaned in and did his best to whisper. “The cupboards of this city are almost bare.”

  Morgan joined in on the secrecy, her voice barely audible. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying we need to venture beyond the wall to avoid suffering a nasty case of starvation. And I’m not going full cannibal.”

  “Full?” Morgan dared ask.

  “Bad choice of phrasing there, I must admit.”

  Morgan opened her mouth to speak when Echo entered the room, eyes wide with fear. Morgan spotted her and asked, “What’s up?”

  Echo took in a deep, centering breath and spoke calmly. “Someone’s out there…watching us.”

  Without a word, Morgan and Josh hopped up and went into immediate action, silent hand signals communicating every direction necessary. Before Echo could assess the situation, Morgan and Josh were armed and ready—Josh standing sentinel at one of the front-facing windows and Morgan ready to open the door. Morgan nodded to Josh, who carefully placed the barrel of his rifle on the window sill. Josh returned the nod and Morgan very slowly reached out and opened the door.

  “What’s…”

  Both Morgan and Josh raised hands into the air to stop Echo from speaking another word. Echo fell silent, frozen in the center of the room. Morgan realized her error and gestured for Echo to drop to the floor.

  Echo’s tears hit the wood before her hands. She stifled a cry and swallowed hard. Once on the ground, Echo fell completely silent and still.

  Morgan stepped beyond the threshold, weapon drawn, moving in absolute silence. She was about to reach the driveway when an arrow whipped through the air and embedded itself in the ground at her feet. She immediately turned back and raced for the door.

  “Incoming,” Morgan barked quietly as Josh shut the door.

  “At least we know they’re living,” Echo whispered.

  Josh shot a furrowed glance Echo’s way. “We hope they’re living.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Echo’s cheeks glistened with tears.

  “Quiet,” Morgan demanded.

  Josh gestured toward the stairs and, after confirmation from Morgan, he ascended the to the next floor with a grace belying his size. Morgan then pointed Echo away from the entrance. Echo nodded and chased off toward her bedroom.

  Echo swung the door open to see Rizzo changing Jacob’s diaper. Rizzo glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “What’s up, cuteness? If you were in Hunger Games, that’d be your name.”

  Echo reached into the closet and retrieved her bow and arrow. Rizzo squealed and said, “Oooh, a little roleplaying. Me likee.”

  “No,” Echo said softly. “There’s some creeper outside the house.”

  “Zombie?”

  Echo shook her head. “No unless the undead now know how to shoot arrows. Morgan’s guarding the front and Josh is upstairs.”

  Rizzo finished sealing the diaper closed and stood to face Echo. “What do you think you’re going to do?”

  “I don’t know…but I can’t sit back and do nothing anymore. I have useful skills.”

  Rizzo reached for Echo’s free hand. “Yes, you do. But maybe that skill would be best put to use making sure Jacob is safe. Me and my knife can only do so much.”

  “And a bow and arrow is pretty useless in such close quarters,” Echo replied. “I’m going to climb up on the roof and scout.”

  Rizzo started to complain about Echo’s decision, but was cut short.

  “If I can stop…whoever from reaching the house, then we will have done our job. Otherwise, we run the risk of having to protect that baby up close and personal.”

  Rizzo swallowed. “You have a point.”

  Echo grinned. “Don’t I always?”

  “That you do…and what a point it is.” Rizzo tossed Echo a flirtatious grin. “You do you, darling. Just don’t get hurt or…”

  “You’ll kill me. I’m counting on that.”

  Before Rizzo realized what was happening, Echo leaned in and planted a simple, sweet kiss on her lips. When Echo pulled back, Rizzo’s face was alight with bliss.

  “Wow,” Rizzo whispered. “Where’d that come from?”

  Echo placed her hand over her heart…the gesture melted Rizzo’s tough outer shell until tears streaked down her cheeks. She wiped at the wetness and teased, “You didn’t see that.”

  “Oh, yes I did…and I’ll never forget it.”

  Without another word, Echo exited the room and raced up the stairs. When she arrived, she darted in and out of each room until she located Josh. He was seated in a chair, rifle sticking out a window.

  “Josh,” Echo whispered.

  Startled, Josh snapped around and bored holes into Echo with a steely gaze. “What are you doing up here?”

  Echo held up her bow. “Duh.”

  Josh’s shoulders slumped. “Fine. Get another room.”

  “Actually, I’m hitting the roof. Easier access to the whole neighborhood.”

  Josh nodded. “Good idea. Just don’t get yourself killed. If you do…”

  “I know, I know…you’ll kill me.”

  Josh winked. “I’m glad we understand one another.”

  Echo gave Josh a thumbs up and left the room for the window at the end of the east hallway. She snagged a chair and slid it under the window so she could more easily climb out. The window opened directly onto a portion of roof that wasn’t pitched too steeply. Echo could move about this side of the house without concern of tumbling off and crashing to the ground below. This particular side of the house also had the most unobstructed view of the surrounding neighborhood.

  Echo immediately nocked an arrow and aimed north-eastward. “Come on, bastard. I know you’re out there,” she spoke silently. “I dare you to come near this house.”

  As if on cue, an arrow zipped toward Echo and glanced off a shingle.

  “Shit,” Echo hissed. She immediately took cover behind the chimney and then turned to face the situation…arrow locked and loaded.

  From an outcropping of trees, a head appeared…covered in dreadlocks. The sight was instantly familiar. “Son of a…” Echo’s words faded to silence as the man cautiously drew near. Once his boots hit the flat black pavement, he stopped and looked to the roof.

  “I see you, young one. Let loose the arrow, if you must. But know this: I have a small army of soldiers tucked away in the trees and surrounding homes. Kill me, and that will set off a war you cannot possibly win.”

  “How do we know you’re not bluffing?” Josh’s rumbling voice rose from the first floor window.

  The dreadlocked stranger smiled and raised his hands to his sides. “You don’t. Unless I call my soldiers out from hiding, you will remain in the dark. That is, until the battle begins. And oh, such a battle it would be. I promise, however, you will lose. Please…trust me on this.”

  Joshua fired…aiming at the feet of the stranger. The man didn’t flinch. From the small copse of trees, a single round of return fire splintered the wood surrounding Josh’s window. Josh flinched…all the way to the ground.

  Echo shouted, sighting the stranger with her bow. “Fire again and I will open your third eye.”

  The stranger lowered his arms and continued his approach. “Little one, you are too late for that.” He tapped a finger to his forehead. “The law of Thelema opened my third eye years ago.” The man stepped forward, walking directly toward the entrance of the house. “I should warn you, we have laid
claim to everything within New Salt Lake City and will not stop until each building, each structure, each living and breathing creature kneels in supplication.”

  Joshua locked his sights on the man’s chest, his finger hovering over the trigger, ready to unload an entire clip into his lungs and heart. “Stay where you are.”

  “Or what?” The leader of the Thelemites continued onward, a smile gracing his lips. “Condemn everyone you hold dear to death?”

  Josh pulled out of the window and moved to the doorway, his large frame blocking the entry. As soon as the strange man reached the porch, he released a piercing whistle. From all directions, his followers appeared—lust and need etched on their faces. Some were still smeared in the blood of the last sacrifice and hungry for more.

  “Fuck me,” Josh whispered.

  “That can be arranged,” the stranger replied. “If you will, allow me entrance into your home so we can chat.”

  From out of nowhere, Morgan appeared behind the man and pressed the blade of a knife against the base of his neck. “Make one move or sound and I’ll end you.”

  A single arrow launched from the mass of Thelemites and embedded itself deep in Morgan’s right calf. She dropped with a howl.

  Josh grabbed the stranger by the shirt and forced him into the house. “Morgan!”

  “I’m okay,” she cried out. “Fuck. Make that not okay…but alive.”

  As Morgan hopped into the house, something rolled into the street. From the sound of the heavy thunk, the object was heavy and metallic. Curiosity got the best of the nearby Thelemites and they drew in for a closer look.

  An audible click should have served as warning enough that a measure of danger was about to be unleashed. When the Fry Bomb opened, the sprung arms flicked darts into the crowd. Half-naked men and women grabbed at their pricked flesh with cries of pain as they scrambled to remove the darts. Seconds ticked by. Josh, Echo, and Morgan stared on to see what would come of the uninfected being dosed with Fry.

  One by one, the tagged Thelemites dropped, until only a handful remained. Morgan turned her focus on the stranger and tossed a right hook toward his head. He dodged the punch, pulled a device from his belt, and tased Morgan. Before Josh could grapple the stranger, he spun out of harm’s way and raced from the house. Without hesitation, the still upright followers surrounded the stranger and led him out of sight.