I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  “Get the cage over here.”

  Not a muscle moved.

  “Did you not hear me?”

  “We heard you.” One of the men called out from behind. “The cage is still in Sector C-5.”

  Gerand turned; the look on his face was enough to slay a horde of the undead. “What in the Hell are you waiting for? Retrieve that cage!”

  Two technicians were recruited to return the metal cell. They rushed out of the lab as if the very balance of mankind swayed on a delicate precipice.

  As the sound of the car driving off faded into the night, Gerand pulled his phone from his sweat-soaked pants and dialed John Burgess.

  “The second subject is ready. As soon as the transport cage returns, I will have him at the drop off in moments. Yes, he is stable. If this one fails…” Gerand nodded to one of the larger male technicians and then pointed to the female who stood next to him. The young man grabbed the girl and forced her into Test Room A. “I already have the next test subject prepped and ready. I don’t believe it will be necessary this time. I understand. Yes sir.”

  Gerand ended the call and placed the smartphone back into his pocket. He turned to the audience clinging to every deadly word. The sounds of the wailing woman in the background faded into white noise.

  “I have been cleared to take extreme measures, should this subject prematurely return to the grave. For the time being I will only require one target at a time. As you can clearly see, the amplification of this young man might well be your saving grace.”

  Gerand drew close enough for the moaning Jet to smell his presence. The teeth of the beast crashed together with such force that chips and cracks formed on the canines and incisors. The biologist held his hand aloft, hovering just out of reach. The cloudy eyes grew wide and the mouth gnashed and drooled.

  Before another word could be spoken, the sound of the hearse assaulted the silence. Within seconds the young men had the cage locked in place over the gurney and ready for transport. Gerand waved them on and the cage glided ghost-like over the floor of the lab and out the door. Before anyone could speak, Gerand was preparing another syringe. At the sight of the rabies vial, every man and woman in the lab did their best to disappear.

  Chapter 11

  Six figures. Two delicious words rolled about in my brain. I’ve seen those numbers on my tax returns before…after an entire year worth of exhausting work. This gig could land me that level of scratch in just a few short weeks. How could I not play along with Burgess? Sure he was an arrogant, angry bastard, but his pockets were deep and his attitude toward the project all business. What was there not to like?

  “Six figures, Sonja.” I slapped a hand onto my assistant’s shoulder.

  “That’s a lot of honey, Malcolm. I could live for a few years on that and do nothing but tan, drink, and fuck.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re aiming high girl friend.”

  We laughed. It felt good.

  “Oh shit! Hearse in Sector C-3, haulin’ ass.”

  I grabbed my headset and tapped Eddie Mixx’s number.

  “Eddie, cargo is about to arrive. Get back to C-5 and prepare to shoot. I know it’s a pain in the ass – but you’re the most brilliant shooter I’ve got. I need you for this opening scene and you know it. That’s my boy. Get your pretty little self over there and make momma proud!”

  Sonja looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.

  I muted the headset and raised her arched brow with a cocked head. “Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy queen.”

  “I believe the only queen in this room might be you…momma.”

  A wicked smile lightened Sonja’s face and filled me with some odd sense of joy. There were times Sonja felt more like a daughter than an assistant. She was family – no matter. I gave her a kiss on the back of the head, just as the hearse arrived into the frame of the C-5 fixed camera. Two young men hopped out of the cockpit of the car and rushed to the back door. The caged gurney slid out, wheels gracefully touching down onto solid ground. The men immediately went to business and released the restraints from under the gurney. They looked at one another and the smaller of the two smacked the timer button on the cage.

  Back to the headset.

  “Mate, you’re running out of time! The package has been delivered!”

  The hearse disappeared in a cloud of dust and night.

  “Almost there. Almost…”

  The cage on the gurney slowly slid back.

  Eddie appeared out of nowhere, his camera trained on the monster. The second he stopped running, the lens focused tightly on the right hand of the beast.

  “Something’s not right, Sonja. I’m not… ”

  Before I could finish, Eddie’s camera pulled in tight on the subject’s right wrist. The bindings were still locked. The actor on the steel table strained against the shackle. The flesh of the wrist puckered and tore at the metal.

  “Well fuck. Whoever is in charge of these damnable day players better get fired for this. We’re live and they leave this poor man locked up tight. How in shit sandwich are we to get a proper opening sequence with the monster unable to rise from a simple gurney?”

  I wanted to kick things.

  “Why not have Eddie release him?”

  There was a reason why Sonja was my assistant – she always picked up the bits and pieces I dropped. I gave her a pat as a called back out to Mixx.

  “Eddie, looks like someone dropped the ball on this one. We need to get that actor loose so he can do his job. I don’t know how, but I want you to get his bindings loose without losing the moment. Think you can handle that bit?”

  Eddie Mixx always handled every bit with an aplomb other cameramen couldn’t comprehend. It’s why he was considered the best. I sat back and waited for the brilliance to unfold.

  With an ease few could manage, the POV shifted from the watcher to the watched. I had no idea how he managed it without a tripod or crane, but the camera was now steadily framed on the body of the man on the gurney – as if the man were staring down at his bound hands.

  “Christ. He’s going to pull this shit off, Malcolm!” Sonja stood and pointed. “The bindings must work from underneath. He’s going to free them from below the gurney and then get his camera back. Fuck, he’s good.”

  The first shackle came loose. The hand flailed about in a vain attempt to gain purchase on anything solid. The arm and hand behaved like they were two foreign bodies forced to work in tandem for the first time. The hand did its best to drag the right arm to the left, but the arm refused to comply. Instead the appendage continued on without purpose, as Eddie managed to free the left.

  The camera began moving, once again, with Eddie Mixx’s patented motion. He swung around to get the player awkwardly falling off the gurney. The actor surprised both Sonja and I by working some serious movement. Each of his appendages worked completely out of rhythm with one another – as if he were trying to move about and play drums at the same time. Coordination was completely tossed out the window. When the actor tried to stand, his legs immediately gave out. After four attempts, he finally managed to right himself. Thankfully Eddie made great work of the moment so monotony didn’t get a chance to rob the scene of any life.

  What happened next was a bit out of context; the actor stumble-walked his way directly toward Eddie.

  “Wait… what’s going on? This crew isn’t part of the actual film. This isn’t one of those fucking found footage pieces of shit is it?” Sonja’s jaw was clenching. I tried to calm her. She brushed my hand off her arm. “You know how I feel about these worthless gimmicks.”

  I did. The feeling was very mutual. Found footage had become a crutch of the horror industry. I’d have nothing to do with them.

  “Eddie, don’t let that actor draw you in.”

  When my words landed on the other side of the void, Eddie quickly pulled back and moved around. It was clear what he was trying to do – get solid footage of the thing walking away. But the actor continued
following the camera.

  “Who’s giving these damned actors their direction?” Sonja’s question was very legit.

  “I don’t know. I should be down there doing this – but I was given strict orders to remain here. Fuck! Eddie…take care of this please.”

  The camera stalled for a split second and then it was clear the man working the magic took off running.

  “What is he up to? Eddie…” I called out over the headset. “What the hell is your…”

  Before I could finish the sentence, the plan of Mr. Mixx unfolded before us. With the grace of a free runner, Eddie managed to make his way onto a nearby, low-slung roof. With his feet firmly planted, Eddie’s lens focused back onto the actor. The zoom tightened in smoothly to reveal a tragically twisted and confused look on the face of the young man.

  “That makeup… ”

  “…is astounding.” I cut into Sonja’s thought. There was something almost transcendent about the makeup. I had never seen anything so real. Most horror films leaned toward the over the top gore, which was fine on the finished product. On live reels, a lot of the time the makeup looked as if it were, well, makeup. What we were witnessing was something all together different. The cheeks were perfectly sunken, the flesh almost translucent. A spaghetti-work of blue veins just visible under the skin’s surface. The centerpiece was the eyes. No matter how many times I saw them, the contacts these actors used were way beyond anything I’d seen Hollywood produce.

  The actor worked his jaw and a mouthful of brownish blood burped onto his lips and spilled down the front of his shirt. The blood was thicker than anything I’d seen used before – almost too thick to seem real.

  “I’m not sure if that’s the best or worst zombie I’ve ever seen for a big-budget film.” Sonja thought out loud.

  “Let’s hope for the best.”

  Before we could get to our usual wager, the actor turned and half walked, half tripped his way down the street. I didn’t have to give a single direction to Eddie – he was already working his way off the roof. His feet hit solid ground and he sped towards the actor. This time he left plenty of space between them – as to keep the zombie from turning a piece of art into trash.

  “What sector is he walking into?”

  Sonja went back to her tablet and pulled up the map. “C-6. Eddie will be joined by Remy Conroy.”

  Conroy was much slower with a camera but had a great eye for the bigger picture. His brain and inner storyboard always seemed one step ahead of everyone else. No one could predict a scene better. No one could follow an actor’s train of thought more clearly.

  “Mixx, you’re about to enter Conroy’s zone. Let’s keep you on this guy even after C’ picks him up. You might want to do your roof trick again to give us distance. Just make sure to stay out of the way of Conroy’s lens.”

  As if I actually had to give him that warning. We were all professionals here.

  The actor turned a corner, walked between two houses, and nearly crashed into a row of metal trashcans. The can didn’t stand a chance. The zombie day player tossed the cans aside, the metallic crash and rattle adding perfect ambiance to the soundtrack of this too-silent film.

  “Conroy, can you hear me? You’ve got your first scene in your sector. A single actor playing a zombie is shambling about, kicking the shit out of trash cans. Yeah…that’s about it so far. Here’s the thing – the guy tried to pull Mixx into the action. That’s right, found footage crap. Avoid that at all costs. Oh, and Mixx followed the zombie, so he’s also in your sector. He’s been warned to stay out of your line of sight. You’ll probably see Eddie climbing on roofs. Don’t worry – he’s not trying to steal your job.”

  I covered the mic, looked at Sonja, and mouthed egos. Sonja smiled and nodded with much gusto.

  “I’ve got Remy Conroy’s shot online.” Sonja pointed to the monitor next to the one displaying Mixx’s feed.

  I compared the two feeds along with the map of sector C-6 Sonja had up.

  “Remy, you’re about to come into contact with the actor.”

  Another glance between the monitors.

  “In three…two…”

  Conroy’s camera picked up the zombie. The actor was slouching more than he was earlier, as if he’d found some new spine for the character, or hurt his back along the way. Regardless of the ‘why’, it was working. The actor stopped, his right arm continued swaying, almost uselessly, at his side. The zombie looked around and then raised its nose in the air and took a great sniff. There was something seemingly delicious in the air. When the smell caught the attention of the actor, he started releasing a low, gravelly moan. His faced turned toward Remy Conroy and registered…something.

  And then the fucking actor walked directly toward Remy; arms swaying side to side, legs barely able to keep the guy upright.

  “Oh for chrissake…”

  I was about to give Remy more instruction, when the actor’s attention was pulled away from the cameraman. A light flipped on in the nearest house and the sound of a closing door softly tickled the mic on the camera. The zombie awkwardly turned and started off toward the new noise. Remy followed. Eddie ran off to a house across the street and settled in, hidden in a copse of trees.

  “What’s going on out here? Was I the only one…”

  A woman, clad in sweats and tee shirt, stood on the porch of her house and squinted into the night air. The zombie actor spotted her and let out an almost joyous moan.

  “I think we’re about to get the first kill scene. This should be good.”

  Sonja glared up at me. I knew that look and what was about to spew from her lips and tongue.

  “Why does it always have to be a woman – and a hottie with big tits? Seriously? Can’t we, for once, break that stereotype and let some smokin’ hot, ab-tastic man step out in his briefs and take one for the team? My next project is going to be a film about a mean-ass bitch who gets off on torturing hot men”

  “I think I saw that porn once.”

  “Oh fuck you Malcolm.”

  “Just give me the chance dear.”

  “Like hell.”

  Our usual faux cat fight was interrupted by the scene unfolding in front of us. We had two angles – Mixx across the street with a tight focus on the woman and Conroy framing the zombie. The two cameras gave us plenty to work with. I was concentrating on the woman. She was natural – almost enough to possibly be the protagonist of the film. She certainly had the looks. It was always so easy to spot the ones with true talent – everything they did, no matter how big or small, seemed so natural.

  “Brandon? Is that you?” The woman called out as she stepped off the porch.

  Conroy swept out to give the shot more depth. When he settled his frame he had both the woman and the zombie – the lens of his camera doing his famous ‘focus-blur-focus’ technique. It was such an elegant trick that gave the film the feel of the human eye. Conroy nailed the moment – turning the ordinary into art.

  The woman stepped close enough to the zombie to get a good look. The second her eyes took in the sight, her inner Jamie Lee Curtis came out to play. I hadn’t heard such an ear-shattering scream in decades. The actor would surely win an award for that noise.

  Before she could again prove herself a worthy scream queen, the actress turned and ran for her door. This gave the zombie all the motivation it needed to leap out, wrap his arms around the woman, and take her down.

  …and start bashing her head on the driveway. With each smash and crash, the woman’s cry for help grew fainter. Blood sprayed out and painted the front door of the house with froth like I’d never seen in a film.

  “Holy fuck.” Sonja snatched the words right out of my mouth.

  There was no way they were pulling off such amazing effects without any visible signs of blood pumps or prosthetics. No matter how hard I looked, I saw nothing that smacked of special effects. The birth of a new generation of horror was upon me.

  After the fourth of fifth crack to the cement, t
he woman’s skull broke open and the zombie put his lips to the fissure and sucked in hard. When that action didn’t suffice, the actor jammed his fingers into the newly formed crack and tore outward. Fragments of what had to be animal bone or some sort of resin flew into the air.

  What happened next looked so real it had Sonja off to the bathroom to puke up her dinner. The actor playing the zombie reached his fingers into the crack in the skull and pulled out bits and pieces of something that looked every bit the part of the human gray matter. The zombie shoved the glistening meat into his mouth, chewed a moment, and then reached back into the prosthetic head for more.

  Sonja returned, wiping her lips with a towel.

  “Sorry Malcolm. Oh Jesus, he’s still going at it?” Sonja said as she leaned in closer to the monitor. “Damn that looks so real. We have got to find out how they did that – and in real time, no less.”

  “Do we know who they have working special effects? This is Tom Savini level work.”

  “You don’t think he’s working this film?” Sonja nearly jumped back out of her chair.

  The producers would have certainly made a point to brag about using Savini.

  “I don’t know Sonja, what we just saw was a different level.” I spoke as we watched the zombie continue to dine on the actress. “We’re usually the makers of magic and this took us by surprise. I’ve never seen anything like it…Savini or not.”

  We continued watching; waiting for the scene to end and the actor playing the zombie to stand and dance off to make up for a clean and touch up. Instead, the zombie finally pulled the head up to his mouth, pushed his lips into the hole and sucked in one last time.

  Both Mixx and Conroy zoomed in tight. We were seeing some fucked up level of truth unfold in high-definition hate. My stomach turned over. Sonja stood and ran back to the bathroom.

  “You okay?”

  No answer.

  “Sonny – you all right in there?”

  When she returned, the look on her face spoke volumes.

  “I don’t know if I can keep watching this. It’s too damned real looking. It’s sickening.” Again, she wiped at her lips as she spoke.