I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  Jamal looked my way. “Familiar?”

  I had to wonder how many cities in the U.S. housed such systems and why they existed after so many years.

  There always seemed to be a never-ending flood of questions without answers. The unknowable had become the norm. That idea didn’t suit my personality well. I needed structure. One plus two had to equal three, else the world spiral into a metaphorical tailspin.

  From above, Raneesha closed the hatch to seal the world outside away. A blanket of pitch black was drawn over us. This was the kind of darkness you only experienced in underground caverns when the tour guide cues the blackout and you wave your hand in front of your face to see nothing but velvety blackness.

  “Sorry,” Raneesha said calmly. A blue-tinted beam from an LED flashlight sparked to life and cast enough illumination for us all to see.

  “It’s like being in a deprivation chamber,” Jamal whispered.

  The second his words faded, we were overwhelmed by a nerve-twisting silence. Even though my mind was capable of fully wrapping itself around the idea that we stood in a hollowed-out piece of Earth that was easily the size of the warehouse above, a feeling of claustrophobic dread pressed down on my psyche hard enough to strip the very word spelunk from my vocabulary.

  “What do we do now?” Gerrand asked.

  “We wait,” Raneesha replied.

  Gerrand glanced around the room. “I don’t happen to see any stores of food or water. How long do you expect us to wait this storm out?”

  Raneesha started to respond, but fell silent the second she saw me approach.

  “Richard’s right. We can’t tuck ourselves away and hope the monsters vanish. That’s not how this works. We have a duty to…”

  Jamal’s hand touched down on my shoulder. “Bethany, she may be right. This city was hit by a tsunami of the dead. We don’t have the firepower to fight them back. Our best chance is if the Zombie Response Team was able to thin out their numbers enough that maybe we have a chance. Somehow. For the first time since this living hell began, we lost. It’s better to accept that and plan our next move.”

  “No!” I shouted, loud enough that my voice bounced off every rock surface until the singular word and voice had morphed into a chorus. “I’ve already lost enough to this stillborn damnation. I refuse to see another living human vanish from my circle.”

  Rational thought had left the building of my mind. I pulled the radio to my mouth, knowing the likelihood of a signal reaching above ground was possible, though not probable, and called out, “Morgan. Morgan, answer me.”

  Static.

  “Morgan,” I cried out, my voice choking on a throat full of hurt. “Please…”

  Jamal wrapped his arms around me, which did nothing but give my heart permission to break. We stood there until my tears and sobs were depleted. My abdomen ached from weeping and my eyes stung from the torrent of tears. Jamal kissed my forehead and I turned to face the group. All eyes stared, unblinking, waiting for me to inspire them into believing our little world hadn’t finally met its demise. No matter how badly I ached—literally and figuratively—the one responsibility that could not be shirked was being a leader to this motley crew.

  “Raneesha is right. We’ll camp out down here long enough to ensure we stand a chance above ground. If need be, Jamal and I will head back up and scout for provisions.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Raneesha drew our attention to a corner, where she raised a heavy green tarp to reveal pallets of food and bottled water. “Dane had us prepared for anything. Hungry?”

  She didn’t have to ask twice. Everyone converged on the stacks of canned and dried foodstuffs like they hadn’t eaten in weeks…which wasn’t too far from the truth. I stood back a moment and watched, glad to see those with me get a chance to briefly forget about the hell on earth above us.

  Once everyone had settled onto the floor to devour a much-needed meal, I felt the slightest bit of tension ease away. I had, for the moment, managed to let go of feeling responsible for the loss of so many.

  Jamal pulled me into him. My body melted until I was lying on the floor, my head propped up on Jamal’s thigh. He ran gentle fingers through my hair. “I adore you, Bethany.”

  “And I you, Jamal.”

  My eyelids felt lead-heavy and my breathing grew deep as I gave into exhaustion.

  *

  You’re listening…to…W…Z…M…

  The all-too-familiar phrase slowed to a demonic pace and pitch.

  Beth…any…

  The voice returned, looping and lilting with delay and chorus like a bad Italian horror film scored by a coked-up foley artist.

  I lifted my head from Jamal’s lap and hugged my knees. “Who’s there?” I tossed the question tentatively into the room.

  No one.

  “I don’t understand. If there’s no one there, who is answering me?”

  The temperature noticeably dropped. A single red light glowed dimly in the center of the room, casting a haunting collection of shadows in every direction.

  I.

  “I who?” I prompted.

  I Zombie.

  This moment was taking an ugly turn toward my past…one that I had no desire to relive.

  I Zombie I.

  “J-Jacob?” My voice cracked under the weight of memory.

  Yes.

  “Please don’t do this to me. My heart can’t take another…”

  You betrayed me.

  “How?”

  Within the scarlet glow of light, a figure formed. I didn’t have to stand close to know who it was. I’d dreamt the face every night since putting a bullet through his skull. The specter of my past raised an arm and pointed toward Jamal.

  He…

  “He what?” I demanded.

  …has become me.

  “No. That’s not…”

  The ghost seized, its arms twisting and snapping out of true and into a more bestial configuration. What was Jacob’s perfect jaw unhinged and split into a bifurcated monstrosity.

  Trust no one, Bethany, the thing said in strained and dangerous tones.

  “I trusted you.”

  And then you killed me.

  “I only finished what the virus started.”

  Which is what you must do now.

  “Is this some fucked-up teaching moment? I can’t deal in metaphors right now. Dream or no, don’t speak to me in riddles.”

  The nightmare continued to twist and bend until it reshaped itself back into a man…obese and glistening. Drops of sweat rained down upon the earthen floor at his feet.

  “Burgess.”

  In the flesh, queen of bitches. I had you in my grasp and the world was mine. Together we could have made such glorious history. Instead, you took my life as if it were your call to make.

  “It was,” I spat. “You were nothing more than a narcissistic demagogue, desperate to control the fate of the human race. No way was I going to sit back and let you…”

  I had a plan! the rotund spirit roared.

  A certain calm returned to my being. “And now…you have nothing.”

  You should have trusted me, Nitshimi.

  “And you should have been sent to hell long ago.”

  When you gaze into the abyss.

  “The abyss gazes back,” I spoke. “Nietzsche much?”

  The ghost of madman past faded back into the shadows to leave me alone with my sleeping brothers and sisters. The sound of peaceful breathing caressed the flesh within my ears.

  As soon as the ease settled, it fucked itself sideways. Everyone in the room began convulsing on the floor. Jamal, Echo, Rizzo, Gerrand, Raneesha…they all stuttered and flopped like superheated buckyballs. To go along with the collective wacky pop dance, a low thrum shook the walls. The dangerous noise shifted and evolved until it produced three perfectly understandable syllables.

  My name.

  Bethany. The sound stirred echoes of terror within my heart.

  Bethany. The ch
orus of voices refocused into a single tone and timbre. With each repetition of my name, the voice became more and more familiar.

  Bethany.

  I started, awakened by the convergence of dreamscape and reality.

  “Bethany.” A voice, barely audible, spilled from the radio. I pushed up from the floor and responded.

  “Morgan? Is that you?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?” I asked as my chest filled with hope.

  “You won’t believe it. There’s someone here asking for you.”

  “Who?” I slapped at a sleeping Jamal. He rolled over and sucked in a quick, deep breath.

  Morgan answered immediately. “This is one of those see to believe situations. Get your ass out here.”

  Jamal glared at me and rubbed at his eyes. “Are we getting Ackbar’d?”

  He knew I’d get the reference. There was no way in hell Morgan would send us marching headlong to our deaths.

  “It’s not a trap, Jamal.”

  “Are you sure you can trust her?” Raneesha joined in on the doubt parade, her voice barely audible.

  “With my life,” I answered emphatically. “I’m going up. You can all remain down here if you like. I’ll come back…”

  “The hell you will,” Rizzo interrupted. “If you leave, we leave.”

  “What’s going on?” a sleepy Echo asked.

  “Nothing, darling,” I said softly. “Go back to sleep.”

  My request was met with no resistance.

  “Seriously, Rizzo, I need you to stay here and watch over everyone. Jamal and I are going up top for a minute to find Morgan and Josh. We’ll bring them back and then figure out what we’re going to do.”

  Rizzo smiled and came in for a quick hug. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

  This was the part I hated…making promises when there was no way of knowing if they could be delivered.

  “I promise.” The lie slipped out with ease. I tilted her head until our eyes met. “You can trust me.”

  Trust no one. I remembered the ghost of Jonathan Burgess moaning from the dreamscape.

  I turned to Jamal. “Ready?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t think so. In that case, yes, Bethany, I am ready.”

  I planted a quick kiss on his lips and made my way to the stairs. Before ascending, I turned back to Raneesha. “Keep your radio on.”

  I tossed a paranoid glance toward Gerrand, who then shot his gaze to Raneesha. I nodded. He returned the gesture. My heart beat a bit smoother knowing the good doctor remained behind.

  Without another word, I climbed, opened the hatch, and slipped out of the closet.

  twenty-two | the spoils of war

  Outside of the warehouse, smoke rose from every direction. I’d expected to be greeted by a gang of undead Jets and Sharks ready to jazz-hand me into the afterlife. I was thankful to find a shattering silence instead.

  “What the fuck, B.?” Jamal whispered. “Have we stepped into the Twilight Zone?”

  “Or the afterbirth of the apocalypse. I’m not sure.” I pulled the radio to my mouth. “Morgan, this is Bethany. Where are you?”

  Silence.

  “Oh, come on,” Jamal whined. “I’m going to pimp-slap the shit out of fate some day. We just rolled a goddamn natural twenty…where’s our reward?” Without another word, Jamal pulled his tablet from the backpack he’d grabbed on the way out and opened the drone control app.

  “How in the hell is that thing still…”

  “Solar power retrofit, baby. Our carbon footprint is gonna be zero.” Jamal beamed with an adorable pride. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered.

  “What is it?”

  “Look.” Jamal showed me the tablet. On the video feed was a clear shot from the other side of the wall. Spread beyond the scope of the camera was a crimson field, scattered with the broken bodies of Moaners, Screamers, Chatterers, and humans alike.

  “Is that…” I started. Jamal pulled the tablet back and zoomed in. As the camera focused tighter, Morgan’s face appeared.

  “Sweet,” Jamal squealed.

  We took off at a sprint toward the wall. In the back of my mind, a single question rose.

  How did this happen?

  I shouldn’t have cared. The only thing that mattered was seeing Morgan alive. What had brought about her survival, at that moment, was irrelevant.

  Or so I told myself.

  Jamal and I hit the base of the wall too fast. We slipped and scrambled for purchase, both of us nearly crashing down before we’d made a single inch of headway. After a mad scramble and some out of place—but much needed—laughter, we finally managed to reach the top of the wall.

  Below us, Morgan and Josh were engaged in a discussion with a woman I didn’t recognize. That, of course, wasn’t the highlight of the scene. Not twenty yards away from the trio was an army of considerable force. Trucks, Jeeps, foot soldiers…all heavily armed and clearly ready to rock.

  “Holy hand grenade of Antioch,” Jamal whispered. “We’re fucked.”

  Morgan caught wind of Jamal’s voice and looked up to us. “Get down here. There’s someone you need to meet.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this, J-Mart.”

  “Maybe it’s the stench of liquified human wafting in the one hundred degree heat. I’d say that’s enough to warrant a bad feeling or two.”

  “You make a good point.”

  Jamal shook his head slowly. “Don’t I always?”

  “Let’s get our asses down there before the calm gives way to the storm.”

  “B., remind me some day to introduce you to my friend Buddha. I think the two of you would learn a lot from one another.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Prequel.”

  Jamal hissed. “That’s below the belt…way below the belt.”

  He was right. The Prequel jab was only meant to be pulled out in extreme circumstances. I knew I’d crossed a line.

  “Sorry,” I snarked, and pushed myself up and over the wall to make the descent.

  Once both feet were firmly planted on dusty earth, Morgan waved me to her side.

  “Bethany,” Morgan started. “This is…”

  “Jessica Burgess,” I interrupted.

  “How did you…” Morgan turned to me, confusion lining her brow and eyes.

  “Good guess. And I’ve been expecting her,” I answered in a half-lie.

  “I take it you received my email?” Jessica asked, shoving her upturned palm out to me.

  Reluctantly, I grabbed the woman’s perfectly groomed hand and held it tight. Her skin was soft, her fingers callus-free, her nails polished.

  Her hair too coiffed.

  Her smile too sweet.

  “Bethany.”

  Her voice…too kind.

  I tossed caution into a tornadic wind and shook the devil’s hand.

  “Before you draw any conclusions about me, let me say this one thing.”

  Curiosity got the best of me, so I opted to not interrupt.

  “The Zero Day Collective is no more. These men you see—the ones who decimated what remained of the ZDC horde—they are loyal to my word alone. With their help, I’ve put an end to the war against you. The Collective headquarters, and every scrap of information and research we had, was burned to the ground…by my doing. I am here now, at your mercy. I will stand by your side from this point on, and together we will rid the world of the undead scourge.”

  Words eluded my mouth. Within the folds of my brain, a constant stream of monologue looped…yet not one single syllable would make the leap from frontal lobe to lips.

  “How can we trust you?” Jamal took the lead from me…I was happy for the intervention. “You’re the daughter of the man who brought the world to its knees. You continued his work and…”

  “No,” Jessica stopped Jamal short. “I did no such thing. I served as nothing more than a figurehead until I’d had enough. There was a man—o
f a singular, ruthless nature—Commander Faddig, who had been calling the shots for the organization. It was only within the last couple of weeks that the ZDC turned to me for guidance. That was their biggest and last mistake.”

  I held up a hand to bring an instant silence to the situation. Every gaze fell on me, every ear opened to me.

  “First…what happened to Faddig?”

  Jessica shook her head. “We don’t know. The last time I saw him was before he went off to oversee the auction of the beta cure. Since then, his communications went dark. We haven’t heard from him since.”

  I tucked her explanation away for later research. If Faddig was out there, I’d find him. On to my next point. “Second…how do we know this isn’t just another trap? The Zero Day Collective has gone to great lengths to bring about the destruction of the human race.” I paused long enough to take Jessica and her army in. “You could very well be nothing more than a ZDC operative on a mission.”

  Jessica held her hand out. A soldier stepped forward and placed a small book into her waiting palm, pages loose and crumpled. Without hesitation, she offered the item to me.

  “This was my father’s journal. Everything Jonathan Burgess had researched and planned for the Mengele Virus. Just as your Jacob had written the Bible of the new world order, my father wrote Armageddon’s Book of Shadows. The words within these pages fueled the lies, hatred, and violence perpetrated on you and the entire population.”

  With great reticence, I accepted the book. The second the leather-bound diary rested in my hands, a wave of nausea washed upward and out of my mouth. The spray of sick barely missed splashing down on Jessica’s expensive leather heels. I wiped at my lips and chin with an already soiled sleeve.

  “What do you expect me to do with this?” I asked.

  Jessica laced her fingers together. “Read it, burn it, wipe your ass with it…I don’t care. Like me and the remainder of the ZDC soldiers, it is yours to do with as you please.”

  “What do you want out of this?” Jamal returned to the conversation.

  “Nothing.”

  Jamal continued. “And we’re supposed to believe that, coming from a woman with an army of soldiers at her command?”