I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

by Jack Wallen

  “Okay, man, good one. This might be your best yet.”

  Eddie called out.

  Booth continued forward.

  “Seriously, Sean, enough’s enough.”

  Judging from Eddie’s feed, he was moving backward.

  “Oh fuck all,” Sonja cried out. “He’s worked enough horror films to know you’re not supposed to – ”

  Before Sonja finished the warning, Eddie tripped and fell onto his back, but somehow managed to keep hold of his camera.

  From both camera angles, Sonja and I witnessed the attack. It was like watching death in stereo. Sean dropped to his knees and wrapped his fingers around Eddie’s ankles. Hand over hand, Sean pulled Eddie closer.

  “Eddie, drop the damn camera and run!”

  My voice had no effect.

  “This isn’t some fucking joke Eddie. You’re in danger.”

  Again, nothing.

  Sean wrapped his hands around Eddie’s head. With the first crack to the ground, Eddie’s camera tumbled out of his grasp and landed so the lens picked up the entire ordeal. We now had first- and third-person perspectives of the attack. All we could do was watch as of one of our best crewmen was mauled by what should have been nothing more than fiction.

  “Eddie, get away from him!” Sonja cried.

  With another crack of his head to the ground; Eddie’s arms flailed about, attempting to gain purchase on his attacker.

  Crack.

  His arms fell, limp, to the ground.

  From the camera on Sean’s shoulder, Sonja and I watched in horror as dirty, pale fingers pried apart Eddie’s skull, and scoop out bits of his brain.

  Sonja ran off, the sounds of gagging trailed behind.

  As I watched Booth pull the last bit of gray matter from the lifeless skull, it dawned on me I had to warn the other crew members.

  “Sonny, I need your help in here!” I scrambled around, trying desperately to find the list of the crewmen and their feed numbers.

  Sonja finally appeared; her face pale and wet with tears and sweat. Without a word, she went to her station, pulled out a laminated sheet, and handed it over.

  There was still plenty of crew out there, in danger.

  “Is there a way to do an all-call with this system?”

  Through her fog of fear, Sonja managed to comprehend my question and come to her senses. She tapped a few buttons on the communication console and nodded to me. I pulled the headset mic back up to my mouth and spoke with as much authority as my shaky voice could command.

  “This is an all-call to film crew. We have a situation.” I wasn’t sure what to say next. I tossed a glance over to Sonja who offered up an encouraging nod. I focused my attention back to the mic. “I’m not sure what is happening, but…something is going wrong with the people out there. I can’t say for sure what it is, but do not, I repeat, do not come in contact with anyone. Should you hear moaning or see anyone acting…” How could these words be about to spill from my mouth? “If you see zombie-like behavior, run. Once you are at a safe distance, report the location to me. I will get to the bottom of this; but until I do, slap your best glass on your camera and keep filming from a distance. You each have a listing of all buildings on your map. Make sure you know exactly where they are in reference to your current location. That is all.”

  I started to pull the headset off when the reports started bombarding the speakers. Nearly every member of the crew had witnessed erratic and odd behavior.

  “What have we missed?” Sonja’s brow furrowed, right before she jumped back to her station. Immediately she began pulling up feeds and scanning for anomalous behavior. It didn’t take long.

  “Sweet fuck, Malcolm, look at this.”

  On the monitor a small crowd was gathered at a street corner. Each member of the crowd swayed back and forth, as if listening to their own personal drummer. Not one person made to leave the group – each seemed content to do little more than sway back and forth.

  “Zombies,” Sonja whispered, “they’re real, goddamned zombies.”

  “That’s crazy, Sonny. This isn’t…” My brain picked up as my voice trailed off. Everything that had happened, up to now, played back in a cinematic loop. The climax of the mini film was me knocking the jaw from that kid’s head. That very moment seemed to switch the light bulb from ‘off’ to ‘on’.

  “Shit, Sonja, you might be right.”

  “There’s no might about it, Malcolm; those fuckers are zombies. We’re not filming a zombie movie, we’re goddamn living one.”

  Sonja’s voice hinted toward panic. I placed what I hoped would be a comforting arm around her shoulders. I was the closest thing to a father-figure the girl had. She wrapped her arms around my torso and squeezed as she buried her face into my chest. Sonja had the right idea – hide. I wanted to curl up under a mountain of blankets and let all of this drift away on a fog of night. Instead, I continued to watch the methodical swaying on the monitor in front of me.

  “There has to be an explanation for this.”

  “Yes. Zombies.” Sonja sobbed. I was struck by the fact I’d never heard the woman cry before. The sound was sweet. For a moment, I simply settled into the embrace, hoping to offer up some respite from the unleashed hell before us.

  “There has to be a logical explanation. Zombies are the antithesis of logic and I refused to accept that complete chaos has taken control. I’ll contact Burgess and see what the hell is happening.”

  Sonja jerked away from me, the look in her eyes almost maniacal. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea. After everything we’ve discovered, can we really trust him?”

  She was right. The more I learned about Burgess, the more I realized I knew nothing about the man. There was no way to be sure the leader of this so-called Zero Day group could be trusted.

  A thought wormed its way into my conscious mind and gave birth to a full-blown idea.

  “We need to let Burgess think everything is going along as planned. While he sits back and assumes his little monsters have taken over the city, we’ll be able to get a little spying done. I want to find out what it is he thinks he’s doing. Only one problem, I’ll need my spycam I sent off with Eddie.”

  Sonja raised an eyebrow. “Only two problems. How are we going to hide ourselves with all of these cameras spying on us?”

  Before I realized it had happened, a laugh bolted from my gut and out of my mouth. “My dear girl – we specialize in that very thing. All we have to do is feed the man what he wants to see and he’ll be none the wiser that something counter to his master plan is going on.”

  Sonja tilted her head, like a confused and curious pup.

  “We’re going to make sure Burgess sees what we want him to see and nothing more.”

  The plan came together quickly. The first phase was for Sonja to hack into Burgess’ system and find out what the man was monitoring and how he controlled what he watched. Once we had that information in our hands we could then feed him a few hours of distraction while we mounted our own black ops film crew to spy on the man’s little outfit.

  “We get what we need on film and we can broadcast it to whomever we please.”

  “Malcolm, it’s just you and me. Is it really safe for us to venture out there, with those nightmares stumbling about? We’re not trained for combat.”

  “Honey, this isn’t war.”

  “To hell if it isn’t. Did you and I just watch the same video? One of our cameramen made a snack of another man’s brains. It’s the apocalypse out there. I want nothing to do with it, thank you very much. I’m happy to sit here in our booth until this all blows over.”

  A deluge of tears poured down Sonja’s cheeks. She wasn’t angry, she was frightened. I didn’t blame her one bit. Fear had its cold grip on my heart and nearly had me paralyzed.

  “Sonja,” I cradled her head gently in my hands. “What if this doesn’t blow over? We’re caught in the middle of this hell and may not have a way out. I don’t know about you, but I�
��m not ready to bend over and let some fuckwit, corporate nut job have his way with me. I’ve never been one to roll over and give up, and I don’t plan on starting now.”

  She wasn’t up to it.

  “On second thought, it might be better to leave you in here. I’ll need someone to guide me – keep me aware of what’s going on around. If you’re at your station, you can make sure I don’t run into a horde of – I can’t believe I’m about to say this – zombies.”

  A flood of relief washed over Sonja. I couldn’t hold the mounting fear against her. In fact, her hesitation would probably wind up being the one thing to save my life. Had she been as cavalier about this plan as I, we’d both be marching into the darkness blind to the horrors of the Zero Day. When her arms wrapped around me, no exchange of words was necessary. Her thank you would come soon enough; over the headset, in the form of ‘Look out!’

  “Are you sure about this?” Sonja’s tone was almost motherly.

  “If I were being honest, probably not. I’m not a hero. In fact, I’m quite the opposite. But everyone has to stand up to a demon or two in their lives. This is my demon to face down. I got us all into this mess and I’ll be damned if I’m going to cower while my crew winds up undead extras in their own film.” To punch up the false bravado, I offered up a wink and a smile. “Now get me a headset and a weapon, and let’s roll tape.”

  “You’re a schmuck.” Sonja said with a kiss to the cheek. “Even facing uncertain doom, you can’t resist tossing off a bad one-liner. Here’s your headset. As for weapons, I’m sorry, but the best thing I’ve got is my Leatherman.”

  Sonja handed me my headset, a multi-tool, and a flashlight.

  “Jesus, I hope one of those things doesn’t get close enough for me to use this.” I waved the multi-tool in front of my face.

  “Malcolm, if I can help it, they won’t. Now, get going before I cave in to my fear and try to stop you.”

  I was surprised to hear crickets – a little night music to threaten a blanket of calm over the moment. There was no reason for the surprise. I supposed I expected to step out into a completely dead night; bereft of sound, of light, of life. The gentle chirrup held a lovely melody. Even the tiniest, most fragile fragment of life was welcoming.

  That moment of peace was soiled by a strained and desperate cry for help. The voice was ragged, as if it had been screaming for hours. Memory of the earlier fight on the street and the lawn flooded my brain. The image of the jawless man haunted me, promised the picture would forever remain intact.

  A short-lived comfort caressed my heart; knowing I could, if necessary, do what had to be done to survive. Fight or flight. Kill or be killed.

  When the flashlight slashed its beam through the darkened space around me, it became abundantly clear how frightening the situation was. When a too-near chorus of moans converged on the pleas for help, all I could think of was run.

  And so I did.

  Fight or flight.

  “Sinister Minister to Overlord, which direction to the spycam?”

  The nicknames had no significance – outside of the reference to the Bela Fleck and the Flecktones song and any given Mad Max-ian film of the eighties. Nevertheless, I could practically hear Sonja rolling her eyes and harrumphing over the names.

  “You’re in luck. The spycam should be fairly close. If you’re running due north, you need to continue on until you reach an open field surrounded on three sides by parking lots. On the fourth side is the laboratory. About fifty yards directly south of that lab should be the camera. I have to warn you, it won’t be pleasant. Unless Booth stripped Eddie’s bones of meat and then shipped what remained off to the Smithsonian, you’re going to have to pick through some gore.”

  Fuck. What am I doing?

  “Any good news in there for me, Sonny?”

  “Yes, actually; the area is clear. You shouldn’t have to worry about zombies.”

  That word again. The tiniest part of me wondered if I’d finally reached the point where I’d seen and filmed too much. Had the never-ending nightmare finally infected my brain and made it mush? And, what was worse, had I become immune to all of the horror the world had to offer? Every fiber of my being wanted to refuse that reality and keep a death grip on what little innocence I had left – and that wasn’t much. But what there was, I had to retain. That child-like wonder was what enabled me to do what I do; without it, I was nothing.

  Of course, without my life, I was, well, less.

  I turned my attention due north and took off.

  As much as I hated to admit it, the membership fees to the gym were wasted. My lack of fitness became abundantly clear the second my feet hit a pace just above ‘brisk’. If I survived this horror story, that gym and me were going to become the best of friends.

  “You’re getting close.” Sonja’s gentle voice whispered into my ear.

  The roiling, toiling screams of agony revisited the nerves in my spine. The noise dug its sharp, pointy talons under the skin of my neck and twisted until I was nearly paralyzed with fear. All of a sudden I felt myself surrounded by death. In a three hundred and sixty degree panorama of deadly decay, the grim reaper stared at me with hungry eyes.

  “Malcolm, why did you stop? Do you see something?”

  Sonja’s commanding voice jerked me from my near tragic trance.

  “There’s a voice…and there are…” I couldn’t finish the phrase.

  “Zombies? Are you hearing zombies? Are they close?”

  Sonja had no qualm bridging fact and fiction.

  “Yes, Sonja, zombies; coming from everywhere. It’s like the city has fallen victim to a Romero Festival.”

  Under normal circumstances, the very idea of a city-wide tribute to G. Romero would wrack my body with shivers of pleasure. Normal. What the fuck is normal now? Zombies were real, television and reality had finally, and inextricably, conjoined. Art was now dictated by the dollar and not the heart.

  “Dammit Malcolm, get moving!”

  My pace had slowed to near stopping. Sonja’s voice jerked me from my mental fetal position and I complied with the command. The general location of the spycam was close. Just a few more yards and…

  There was his body; the pulpy, sticky remains of Eddie Mixx. Bloody, red meat and stark, white bone peeked out from torn flesh. The position was almost a Virgin Mary-less Pieta. The flesh of Eddie’s face had been shredded into ribbons, the back of his head, completely removed. What did this to Mixx was not Sean Booth. No human could unseal the human body so savagely and not lose their mind. I was certain I’d lose mine, just by witnessing the violence visited upon the corpse at my feet.

  “Do you see the camera?”

  Again, Sonja’s voice pulled me from a dangerous precipice.

  I gave a quick scan of the area and spotted the camera. Thankfully I’d placed the device on a fairly significant steady cam mount; otherwise I’d never have seen the tiny piece of hardware.

  “There it is!”

  I dashed over and scooped up my quarry. The camera wasn’t on. My heart momentarily skipped a beat, wondering if the battle between good and evil had yet another casualty. With a single press of the power button, the camera powered up and relieved that moment of concern. I set the network connection to ‘on’ and began sending a feed.

  “Sonja, you picking this up?”

  After a brief hesitation, I received confirmation the signal was being sent and received.

  “Time to pay our dear friend Burgess a visit.”

  “Malcolm, are you sure of this?”

  I wasn’t. Hell, I wasn’t sure of anything at the moment, other than the strong desire I had to turn tail.

  “Point me in the right direction so we can get this shit in the can.”

  Chapter 23

  “John, should there be so many of them so soon?”

  L.A. Wenning’s voice was soft, almost lost in a blanket of fear, as she watched a scene play out on a particular street of the city. The street was a block par
ty for the undead.

  “I don’t understand,” was Burgess’s initial reply. He too, was caught up in some other place. Beads of sweat pelted his cheeks and the surface of the table between his arms. Before another question could be asked, Burgess picked up his walkie-talkie and pressed the call button.

  “Gerand, you better have an explanation for this.”

  Burgess was met with nothing more than a soft hiss.

  “Goddamn it, Gerand! What in the hell is going on?”

  “John, if this initiative fails, I hope you fully understand the consequences.” This time it was Darrius Kriege who interjected.

  Kriege was met with a challenging glare, but not a single word.

  “This is Gerand.” The voice of the biologist crackled through the radio. “What is happening? I don’t understand.”

  Before he spoke, Burgess blotted a mess of sweat from his forehead. “Have you glanced outside? The streets are full of your monsters. How many have you infected?”

  The questions were met with silence.

  “Biologist, I highly suggest you not go silent on me again.”

  “I only released the initial two, the man you sent over, and…”

  Gerand’s voice faded into oblivion.

  “And what?” Burgess replied with pure menace in his tone.

  “One other…the who is not significant.”

  “So do the math. That’s four infected subjects released. How in the hell does that, so quickly, turn into hundreds?”

  “Mr. Burgess, you had to know this would happen. The mere exponentially of this experiment rises with every second that passes. One zombie infects one person, which effectively doubles the population immediately. Now two zombies infect one each and you have four. Four zombies infect one each and you have eight – you can see where that math leads right?”

  “Don’t you dare insult my intelligence!” Burgess growled.

  “No insult intended.”

  “And just when do these bastards start dying off?”

  A stuttering Gerand broke the brief silence. “I d-d-don’t understand.”