I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  Gerand stepped out of his office, briefcase in hand.

  “Where are you going?” Amelia, the youngest of the female technicians eyed Gerand as she bit her lower lip. She had developed an odd crush on her superior within seconds of their meeting.

  “I have a rather important errand to take care of. I’ll return momentarily. I will be securing this door so no one is able to exit. Please keep that in mind as you watch over the lab.”

  Amelia’s plump lips opened wide with a grin that nearly beamed rainbows. Gerand knew she’d follow his every command and used it to his advantage.

  “I’ll make sure nothing happens. You can trust me.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt.”

  Chapter 14

  “Malcolm!” Sonja’s voice echoed off the walls of the booth. “Incoming in C-5. Looks like it’s another zombie in the same type of cage.”

  “Double the fun!” Time to call the cavalry back. “Eddie. I need you back at C-5 immediately. Looks like we have another unboxing for you to film.”

  Eddie’s camera lowered into running position. The grass flew by as he made his way back to the scene of the original crime.

  “Remy, find that zombie.”

  Remy complied. Much of the house was plunged into deepest darkness. As Remy entered a new room or hall he had to switch on the light to get his bearings. He stopped at the base of the stairs when his mic picked up the muted sounds of struggle. The camera slowly moved with each breath.

  He crept his way up the steps. The point of view was perfect; like the well-intentioned hero, certain to be the first to die in the film. When he reached the top landing, the silence and darkness that engulfed him was thick. Soft beams of what seemed like night-lights peaked up from the floorboards in the hall. This brilliant darkness couldn’t have been better designed or directed. Remy stopped at the first door in the hall. Without getting his hand in the frame, Remy opened the door and let it slowly creak open. The light flicked on to reveal an empty room.

  I wasn’t disappointed. The buildup Remy worked was perfect. The man deserved an Oscar.

  If only the Oscars would recognize horror.

  Remy arrived at the second door and pulled off the same seamless reveal, only this time there was blood – everywhere. The room looked as if the special effects crew decided to re-create a few scenes from Dead Alive in a single location. Bloody hand prints and bits of what looked like hair and scalp decorated the walls. The camera panned to an overturned bed. Sticking out from under the stained mattress was a foot. The foot was dead still.

  Unfortunately, the over the top work made the effect look like it was fake.

  “We can edit that scene.” Sonja looked up at me and winked.

  “I swear, you can read my mind, girl.”

  Remy backed out of the room and made his way down the hall. His lens faced the final room. A single, bloody hand print decorated the closed door. Conroy used a Vertigo Effect to make the hallway stretch until the lens finally established the print in frame.

  “I want to have sex with that man’s art.” Sonja whispered.

  I almost agreed out loud.

  Remy reached the door, turned the handle, and let the eerie creak fill the moment. The light in the room was off, so the glare from behind caused the lens to starburst. Caught within the fingers of light, cast from behind, a figure could be made out.

  The light in the room finally flashed to reveal the zombie standing beside the bed. The actor in the make-up swayed back and forth and released a low moan. The camera zoomed in tight on the face of the zombie. Blood smeared the lips and lower jaw. Chunks of something clung to the blood. The same, textured-white eyes gazed out into the nothing before it. Remy remained in the door way. The zombie continued to sway in an impossible wind or to a silent beat.

  We waited. Something had to break.

  “Remy.” I decided it was time to force our hand. “Walk into the room and see what the actor does. Just remember, don’t let him draw you into the story.”

  Conroy took a single step, bumped the door, stumbled, and tripped over something on the floor. The camera turned downward and stopped on half a human head.

  “Fuck!” Remy’s voice spilled out over the mic – breaking one of our cardinal rules.

  As soon as the word left Remy’s lips, the actor turned his way and moaned. Blood-soaked hands reached out and the zombie stepped toward the noise. Conroy was one step ahead of the actor and exited the room. When the door slammed shut behind him, he took off – at speed.

  “Remy…stay in the room. We need more footage of the actors!” I tried to stop him, but something had him spooked. The last thing we heard was a throat-wrenching scream that pegged the mic.

  “Was that Remy’s scream?” Sonja looked up at me, concern lining her brow.

  “I couldn’t tell through the distortion. I’m sure it was one of the actors. Don’t worry about it. We got plenty of footage for you to work your magic on. That was damned creepy by the way.” Sonja’s ever-assuring voice stroked my ego a bit.

  She was right. Besides, the fun was just beginning. There was plenty of time left. We were still just building ambiance. The story would present itself and horror would be unleashed from every angle.

  I focused my attention on Mixx.

  Eddie had the cage-topped gurney framed at an odd angle. The composition of the scene was perfect for how the movie was playing out. Maybe I was going to finally get my zombie noir film after all. The frame rotated and zoomed and stopped on three ghastly pale fingers poking between the steel bars of the cage. From within the cage, a moan poured like the low of a cow in mourning. Fingers wrapped, white-knuckled, around the bar and gave a violent shake. The raging on the cage seemed antithetical to the noise the actor was making.

  “Good actor – play your opposites.”

  When the whisper traversed the space between my mouth and Sonja’s ears, she grinned and gave the ‘thumbs up’. It was a silly gesture, but part of our shtick.

  Before I could expound upon the topic, the cage clicked and smoothly rolled back. The arms of the actor shot straight up to reveal a pinstriped suit coat.

  “Day’am. Undead Armani.” Sonja chuckled.

  The arms flailed about for a farcical moment. It looked as if the creature had no idea how to use the appendages at first. Eventually the farce ended and the arms seemed to yank the actor upward to a seated position on the gurney.

  “Wait…I know that guy.”

  I pulled my glasses from off of my head and rested them back where they belonged.

  “I swear I’ve seen him before. Hold on. That guy was on the fucking committee that hired me. I can’t remember his name, but he wore the same suit and tie.”

  Sonja offered another chuckle.

  “A tie’s a tie Malcolm. I’m sure there are thousands of shirt-tuckers out there sporting the same silk neck noose.”

  “No way. There’s no way I’d forget that tie. The entire time they interviewed me, the man played with the tie as if to make a point to show how nice it was. It’s a Sevenfold Kiton, worth about five hundred. You won’t find that in a Hollywood wardrobe or day player’s closet. That’s money and that is not an actor.”

  The erratic movement of the man-in-question had me wondering just who it was. It was no subtle shock that his skills were on par with the other actors.

  “Son of a bitch, what was his name?”

  It was no use. I couldn’t remember even if the man had introduced himself.

  “Never mind. It’s a distraction we don’t need anyway.”

  Sonja gave me a pat. “He probably just paid a king’s ransom for a role in the film.”

  She was right. It happened all the time. Rich white men wanting to score the kind of fifteen minutes that might land them a piece of Hollywood tail were always adding a bit of bankroll to a film’s budget in hopes of sneaking into a scene or two. Mr. Sevenfold probably wrote a check with a few zeros hoping the investment would pay off in his boudoir. />
  “Malcolm, take a look at this.” Sonja was pointing at another monitor.

  “What the…” Two young men were sprinting away from sector C-5.

  “Are those, lab coats?” Sonja pointed.

  “They are.”

  An idea struck me hard across the brain. “And where there are lab coats, there will be a lab. Eddie, continue doing your thing. You’re brilliant. Love you.”

  I turned my attention to Sonja. “Sonny, what sector are they getting ready to enter?”

  “C-3”

  “Who’s covering that section?”

  “Sean Booth.”

  “Oh, hell yeah!” Booth was one of the fastest cameramen on the planet. He could nearly sprint and film a scene. Sean was about six-five, with an inseam as long as me. I tapped out the code for Booth on the mic mixer and called out.

  “Sean Booth, I need you to immediately head over to C-3. You should see a couple of young men running through in lab coats. I want you to frame ‘em and follow ‘em. Find out where they’re off to in such a hurry.”

  Sonja glared up at me and arched an accusatory eyebrow. I knew exactly what that arch said.

  “What? We have no script, no time-line. This project is a free-for-all and I’m going to make sure I get every possible angle. Who knows, we might actually uncover a plot for this here lil’ project.”

  Booth had his camera shouldered and was sprinting like the ghost of Hamlet’s father. His feet barely touched the ground, he was so smooth. His cheetah-like speed had him caught up to the lab coats in no time. He hung back enough so they had no idea he was near.

  “What’s the building?” Sonja attacked her tablet, bringing up the ground plan for the location. “That building isn’t on the map. Didn’t Burgess say this map was complete?”

  He had. In fact, the leader of the project assured us the map he handed us had every scrap of information we’d need for filming purposes.

  “Maybe it’s their headquarters or something.” Sonja offered.

  “If that’s the case, why are the lab coats making a beeline toward it as if it contained the very meaning of life? The men we originally met with didn’t strike me as the type to fraternize with the help. Those coats look like ‘help’ to me.”

  Booth stopped behind a row of cars and zoomed in on the door. As soon as the first lab coat arrived, he tapped out a series of numbers on a keypad and a green light beckoned him enter. The second lab coat followed closely behind. Before the door shut, Booth managed a quick shot of a beehive of activity inside – all wearing similar coats, all sporting severe looks.

  “Sean, get in close and see if you can find a way inside.”

  I hated to put one of my men in danger, but whatever was inside that building begged for me to enter. This was obviously some form of zombie film and now we had a little bit of conspiracy to add into the mix. Conspiracy sold tickets.

  Sean stepped in close enough to completely frame the front door of the building. The lens still gave us nothing.

  “We have to find a way in.” I spoke to anyone who could hear.

  Without prompting, Sean stepped in closer and waited, his camera tightly focused on the keypad.

  “Brilliant! Sean, I like where you’re going with this.”

  *

  Back at C-5, Eddie Mixx was following the Sevenfold Zombie toward the nearest neighborhood. There seemed to be an odd determination to the trip-step of the actor.

  “Thank God for editing or this film wouldn’t stand a chance on the B-movie circuit.” Sonja jabbed me in the ribs. She knew I not only had a soft spot for B-movies, I also happened to have a couple of my own films traveling that circuit. For many directors, it was a badge of shame. For me? Total honor. The two films were my first projects and, quite honestly, were lucky be in circulation. That a large cross-section of film-goers still enjoyed The Whispering Hand and She Drinks, She Kills was a sign humanity still had a sense of humor.

  Eddie made the best of a slow-moving situation. Mr. Windsor Knot continued rumbling and stumbling along. The ‘actor’ even tossed up his best homage to George A. Romero and raised his arms up like a good zombie.

  “Cliché much?” Sonja laughed and pointed at the zombie walk wannabe.

  Eddie’s camera spun toward the neighborhood. It was late, but lights were starting to pop on here and there.

  “I think I just got goose bumps.” Sonja always got a case of the giddies when a big scene was about to go down.

  “Start cycling through the fence-cams. Let’s see if we can lead Mr. Sevenfold to an unsuspecting victim.”

  Sonja tapped her tablet and brought up a map with a sector and camera listing. “We’re looking at Sector C-4 and cameras 23 and 24. The cameras only give us one side, but offer a fairly wide range and some incredible zoom.”

  The costly RED One cameras were all on a slow-pan rotation that could be taken over manually. At the moment, the auto-pan was working to our advantage, so we let it roll.

  “Wait,” I nearly shouted. “There, that man in his pajamas. What in the Hell is he doing?”

  “Jesus, he’s taking a piss. He stepped outside of his house and…” Before I could finish, a woman appeared and turned the man back toward the house to march him back inside.

  “Mal, did we just see what I think we just saw?”

  “Either that man was sleep pissing, or he has Alzheimer’s and had no idea those bushes weren’t his toilet.”

  “Well, shit Mal, thanks for ruining that happy little moment.”

  “There’s another possible target. Looks like a teenager. Think he’s sneaking out of the house? Oh this could be fun. Can you zoom in and get an address for that house?” I tapped the number for Eddie Mixx as Sonja took control of camera 23.

  “Eddie, lead that actor over to Sector C-4, specifically to the house with the number…” Sonja tapped her tablet. “…eleven nineteen. That’s house number eleven nineteen in Sector C-4. There’s a young man sneaking out of the house. I think we could have a little fun with this.”

  Eddie’s camera angle shifted. Both cameraman and actor changed directions.

  “He’s so good.” Sonja beamed.

  As Eddie led the actor toward the target, I switched focus back to Sean Booth and the suspicious building.

  Booth’s camera was fixed on the keypad as the finger tapped out the entrance code.

  71979

  The entrance to the lab slid smoothly open.

  “Is he going to do what I think he’s…” Sonja started.

  “Booth is all about taking chances. The man would risk his life for a shot.”

  “Malcolm…I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “Sonny, it’s probably just the headquarters of the production company. My guess is it’s a board room, a kitchen, and a few sleeping rooms.”

  “Or a lab; duh, Mr. Brilliant, the lab coats.”

  “Okay, okay…maybe it’s a lab. Even if it is, it’s probably a set for the film. We are probably meant to find our way into that building anyway. No harm, no foul right? So we get in a bit earlier than they anticipated. It’ll give their actors a chance to show off their chops. We catch them when they’re least expecting it and they have to go full-on improv. What actor wouldn’t get on their knees for a chance like that?”

  Sonja knew I was right on this one. If there was one thing a director had to know – it was actors and their egos. The second that camera made an appearance within that building; it was ‘go for Oscar time’.

  Booth sprinted to the side of the building and eased his way to the corner. The camera filmed every step. He eased around the corner and effortlessly made his way to the door. Sean’s hand, this time, was in the frame – this time tapping out the numerical sequence on the number pad.

  The door slid open.

  Booth slid into the building.

  “Who’s monitoring the first subject?” A disembodied voice called out.

  “I’m on it.” Another replied.

  “What
is the decay percentage?”

  “Well within acceptable parameter.”

  Sonja and I turned to one another, simultaneously mouthing ‘Decay?’

  “Do you think they’re rehearsing?” Sonja vocalized the question before it could leave my lips.

  Sean’s mic picked up the muffled sound of screaming. Sonja and I were glued to the monitor at her station when a dull shaft of light sliced across the desk. The door to our booth was standing open.

  “Did you hear that door open?”

  Sonja shook her head nervously.

  “Hello?” I turned away from the monitors and stepped toward the door. There was no one. Slowly, carefully, I opened the door enough to peek my head through. Nothing. The only thing to greet me was the fresh night air.

  “Close the door and get your ass back here with me!” Sonja was standing, beckoning me to return to her side.

  “What’s wrong, zombies got ya spooked? Just keep repeating to yourself…”

  “It’s only a movie, it’s only a movie.”

  We spoke in unison and ended with a loud explosion of laughter. I closed the door and made my way back to Sonja’s side. When I turned my attention back to Sean’s monitor, all was not well.

  “What the fuck? Where’d Booth’s feed go?” I grabbed the headset and quickly spoke into the mic. “Booth, we’ve lost ya big guy. Can you check your feed? Make sure you didn’t accidentally switch your channel. Booth! Booth? Give me some sign of life there Sean.

  I got nothing. A nervous chill shot up the outer ridge of my spine.

  “He probably just lost the feed. Maybe there’s something causing interference inside that set. You want me to go find him and help?” Sonja was always quick to offer her assistance.

  “No. Let Booth figure this one out. He’s a big boy, I’m sure he’ll get the feed back up.”

  Honestly? I wasn’t so sure of that sentiment. Booth was a hell of a cameraman – a technician? No way.