No Mere Zombie: Deathless Book 2

by Chris Fox

  Be wary Ka-Dun, this is not a champion. You face one of the deathless. They command the shadows as females do.

  He blurred too. Blair thought.

  Deathless possess many powers. They also possess a breed of shaping, different from your own but very powerful. That is the source of the bolt of unmaking he unleashed.

  “Lovely,” Blair muttered. He flooded his body with energy, healing his broken back and leaping to his feet. The deathless stood calmly, an infuriating smile still pasted on that too-handsome face.

  Blair blurred forward, dropping low and swiping at his opponent’s calf. The deathless flowed backwards, narrowly avoiding his claws. He ripped a strange sword from a sheath at his side, the golden blade oddly curved in a way Blair had never seen. The blade hummed as it came for Blair’s head. He ducked under the blow and raked the deathless with his claws, catching his opponent in the chest. His hand came away bloody as the man melted into the shadows.

  “Impressive. You’re quick,” the voice said, clearly amused. “I am Irakesh, of the Cradle. How are you called, young Ka-Dun?”

  Blair considered ignoring him, but the longer he prolonged this fight the greater the chance that Liz would arrive. “My name is Blair.”

  “You are of this new world then? Interesting. Isis has been busy. I hadn’t realized she’d begin recruiting so quickly,” the voice said. It had moved to another section of darkness, somewhere near the central obelisk. “She left you behind while consolidating territory, and I can feel her access key within you. That should have been Ahiga’s responsibility, jumped-up urchin that he was. Does she trust you, or was she desperate?”

  Something flashed behind him again. Blair blurred forward but wasn’t fast enough. Claws scored his back, sending lines of pain through his entire body. Were they poisoned somehow? It didn’t feel like a normal blow. Why hadn’t the deathless used his sword?

  Irakesh vanished back into the shadows. “You’re outmatched, little wolf. Hamstrung by Isis’s paranoia. You cannot command the shadows. Do you know why that is? Because when she created your kind she didn’t want one person to have access to the full power at her disposal. So she segregated those powers, allowing only a fraction to be possessed by each gender. My kind has no such weakness.”

  Blair leapt on top of the central obelisk, its surface scored from the battle with Mohn. He scanned the darkness. Was this Irakesh lying? Or had the Mother really done as he said? It made a certain sort of sense. It made the sexes reliant on each other, forming an excellent check on the power of any one individual.

  “What will you do? You cannot find me, but I can easily find you,” the voice taunted. A green flash came from behind and to the right. This time Blair blurred away, narrowly dodging the bolt as it rippled across the obelisk. The obsidian absorbed it, seemingly undamaged.

  Blair rolled behind another obelisk, taking a moment to focus his will. He had to find the bastard or this game of cat and mouse was only going to end one way. He sent out a pulse, just like he’d used while sparring with Bridget. There, resistance a few feet to his left.

  He lunged, wrapping his arms around the patch of darkness. Something strong wriggled in his grip, but Blair fought to hold the deathless. He bit down hard, savaging Irakesh’s shoulder with a mouthful of fangs. The blood tasted sour, like wine turned to vinegar. He resisted the urge to spit it out, tearing further as he tried to sever his foe’s arm.

  A wave of green energy burst from Irakesh, washing over Blair’s entire body. He tumbled backwards, muscles spasming as if he’d been subjected to a massive jolt of electricity. His body lay there twitching, refusing his commands to rise and fight. It was similar to the power that Ahiga had used back in Acapulco, but much more painful.

  “Now that was truly impressive,” Irakesh said, clutching his shoulder with his good hand. The flesh was already knitting back together. “I didn’t know a male could find someone shadow dancing. That’s either a new talent, or a very closely held secret. I almost regret having to kill you without learning the answer.”

  Chapter 12- Hell Hath No Fury

  Liz sprinted down the corridor with the long strides afforded by her lupine form. Sweat trickled through her fur as she bounded off a wall, using her momentum to fling her around a corner. Yet as fast as she moved it wasn’t fast enough.

  In the distance she heard the grunts of combat, steel scraping against stone. Blair’s heart beat swiftly, his breathing ragged. He was fighting someone or something and she knew nothing about what they were dealing with. Damn him for running off. He was so damned impetuous.

  She redoubled her speed, running low along the corridor. The combat continued, Blair giving a pained yelp that echoed from the room ahead. She rounded the last corner, dashing down the ramp and into the central chamber.

  A bald man with dark skin stood over Blair’s crumpled form, his shimmering ivory clothing eerily familiar. The style and cut was too similar to the Mother’s to be a coincidence. The flowing white fabric draped over an athletic body, exactly the type of guy she preferred to date.

  “I almost regret having to kill you without learning the answer,” the man stated, his arrogant voice still somehow friendly.

  The ancient enemy. The beast rumbled, low and hostile. End him, Ka-Ken.

  Liz pounced, claws extended as the shadows gathered about her. She came down on the man’s back, bearing him to ground with the heavy crack of bone breaking. She pinned him in place with both hands, tearing out his throat then ripping into his face with a savagery she hadn’t known she was capable of.

  He screamed, his right eye punctured by one of her canine’s. Then he dissolved into a cloud of green mist. Not shadow, but something electric and insubstantial that made her fur stand on end as it flowed away from her. Liz spilled to the ground, clawing uselessly at the air. It dispersed the cloud, which flowed into the shadows and disappeared.

  Where had the bastard gone? She scanned the area, but there was no sign of him.

  Deathless are tricky, even more so than the Ka-Dun.

  “Blair?” she asked, turning to face him. He staggered to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall. At least he was alive.

  “I’m all right,” he panted. He didn’t look all right. Raw pink wounds dotted his fur where his skin had been burned away. “We have to stop him. He took an access key, one linked to another Ark.”

  “What is he?” she asked, scanning the darkness. There was still no sign of the intruder.

  “He’s a deathless,” Blair explained, rolling his neck. It cracked and popped as vertebrae reset to a more natural position. “I’m guessing he’s been hidden here the entire time. Sleeping just like the Mother. He must have just awoken. He was about to kill me when you showed up. Thanks. That’s another one I owe you. It’s becoming a habit.”

  “Yeah, well just remember how much you owe me when someone has to wash the dishes tonight,” Liz said, giving him a half smile as she continued to scan the darkness for their new friend.

  “I don’t know where he went, but I doubt he’d stay here. If it were me I’d flee the Ark before the Mother returned. It can’t be accidental he waited until she was gone,” Blair said, hobbling towards the ramp leading back to the surface. His theory made sense. “Let’s see if we can pick up a trail. He can use the shadows, but I bet he still leaves footprints.”

  Chapter 13- The House of Mohn

  Irakesh quickened his pace, blurring up the ridge line to its peak. The bare granite jutted up into the night sky, overlooking both the way he’d come and the route forward. Behind him lay the gleaming black surface of the Ark, massive and silent. Ahead was a gentle slope with a narrow dirt road. The hillside was covered in scrubby brush, a stark contrast to the fields of ice when he’d invaded this place all those millennia ago. Apparently the climate had changed dramatically, the first sign that he’d emerged into a different world.

  He studied the path, which wound down the hillside to a valley nestled between several hills. Beyond la
y a wall of thick green vegetation. The jungle, where he could easily lose himself. Excellent.

  Something much closer drew his eye. A strange metallic shape caught the moonlight, perhaps a hundred yards down the slope. He studied it from a distance, but could make no sense of the thing. It looked like scattered debris, as if a slipsail had been dashed against the side of a mountain and this was all that remained.

  Irakesh blurred closer, blending into the shadows as he approached. Up close the place reeked of some unnatural substance, something sharp that burned his eyes. He’d never encountered anything like it. A four-foot section of a strange white material lay at his feet, the main body of the craft a few feet beyond. It was primarily metal, though parts were molded from a smooth substance he’d never seen.

  He picked up the long blade, amazed by its lightness. It was strong like metal yet far lighter. What could it possibly be? He dropped it and investigated the craft itself. The front had impacted with the hillside, crushing the area he presumed the pilot must lay. The slight stench of decay confirmed this, and as he knelt to examine further he saw a crushed hand jutting through a break in the strange transparent material that so closely resembled glass.

  Irakesh circled the craft, coming to the side where a large portal lay. He could smell more decay within, so he ducked inside. A body lay at his feet, clothed in strange green clothing with a weave far too tight to belong to a peasant or even a common soldier. He knelt next to the body, smiling when he realized it was primarily intact.

  He seized the corpse by the neck, dragging the head into his lap. Two claws in the ocular cavity let him pry open the skull, exposing the spongy grey matter within. It was old, but intact. He might be able to glean memories from this poor fool. Irakesh carefully peeled away the prefrontal cortex, devouring bite sized morsels until it was gone.

  His eyes closed as the rush of memories washed over him. So much, all of it new. This man was an officer in the military of some house known as Mohn. He’d been second in command here, an observer dispatched to watch over the real commander and to report back to his masters. The craft he’d crashed in was a helicopter, which had been bound for a kingdom called Panama. Mohn possessed a stronghold there. A stronghold with powerful weapons.

  Wait, what was that? Irakesh focused on a recent memory, some sort of communication with this man’s masters despite the fact that he was thousands of miles away from them. He’d been ordered to retrieve a weapon of incredible power. The soldier didn’t understand precisely how this bomb worked, only that it split the atom and generated a massive burst of radiation and explosive force. Irakesh’s jaw fell open as he considered the implications.

  He must obtain this weapon. More, he could use the strange transports contained at the stronghold in Panama. They would allow him to travel far more quickly, potentially reaching the Ark of the Redwood in days instead of months.

  Irakesh rose to his feet, dropping the body as he exited the craft. He needed to be away before the Ka-Dun and his vicious Ka-Ken caught up with him, but first he’d leave a trap to occupy their attention while he gained room to maneuver. Irakesh smiled wickedly. He had just the thing.

  Chapter 14- Zombies

  Mark exited the elevator and strode briskly down the hallway toward the holding cell. Benson was already waiting, studying his approach as she removed a pair of blue latex gloves. They left a powdery residue on her hands, but if it bothered her she didn't show it. He found that sort of pragmatism attractive. She wasn't concerned with appearances, just data.

  That was further reinforced by her short black hair, cut just above the shoulders. It was all about function rather than form, and offered nothing an enemy could take advantage of.

  "Right this way, sir," Benson said, spinning on her heel in a way that suggested time in the military. He followed her up the hall, her heels clicking on the tile as they approached a wide window. It looked down into a well-lit room with a single figure strapped to a steel table.

  "You vivisected it?" he asked, peering at the still open chest cavity. The thing had once been a young man with dark, curly hair. The bloodshot eyes roamed the room, though his head was strapped to the table.

  "Yes, sir," Benson replied. She picked up a tablet from a cubby next to the window and handed it to him. "I've compiled all available data, but I'll give you the highlights. The body has been taken over by a virus. The flesh is necrotic, but the nervous system is still active."

  "The virus reproduces through a bite?" Mark asked, scanning the data on the tablet.

  "Or through any fluid exchange. Blood or saliva can transmit the virus as well," Benson replied, leaning towards the glass as she studied the figure. "The real mystery is the cause of the virus. We know that it activated when the CME hit, but we don't know its origin. Our assumption is that it's been present all along, dormant in the hosts. It may have even masqueraded as another virus, though we have no way to corroborate that."

  "We may never know," Mark said, frowning as he watched the living corpse. "Too much was lost in the chaos after the CME."

  "Sir, what do you want me to do with it?" Benson asked.

  "Have you learned everything you can from it?" Mark asked, glancing at her.

  "There's a chance we might learn more, but I think it's unlikely," she replied, giving a slight shrug.

  "Then I want you to put together a research team. Have them continue to document the subject. If needed we'll obtain others. I want a full profile prepared," Mark ordered. Benson merely nodded. "Once your team is operational, appoint an interim commander and come see me."

  "May I ask why, sir?" she said, pursing her lips.

  "I have something special I want you to look into, and I need you to handle it personally. Discretion is critical," Mark explained, watching her reaction closely. If she proved trustworthy she could be an enormous asset, one he was going to need in the days to come.

  If not, she'd need to be eliminated.

  Chapter 15- My Name

  The corpse still lacked a name, but at least he knew that he was a he and not a she or an it. It wasn’t much, but it anchored him. It meant that he could learn, could become more than he was. It gave him hope that he wouldn’t always be a shambling monstrosity devouring the flesh of every victim he could lay hands to.

  His shuffling body moved more quickly than it had, taking sure steps up the dirt track leading down the mountain towards the jungle below. A cluster of structures sat on the edge of the massive trees and while there were no lights, there was at least some possibility that he could find food there.

  The hunger gnawed at his insides, demanding more fuel. Even if it hadn’t he would have sought food. Food made him smarter. Faster. Food made him greater than he had been.

  A strange sensation built, beginning at the base of his spine and tingling up to his brain. The pulse carried a command to rival the hunger. Come to me, it demanded. His body obeyed without thought, hurrying towards the strange sensation. It pulsed from the village below like some bright beacon. He must reach the voice. It was his sole purpose.

  All around him other zombies appeared. A ragged collection of butchered locals sprinkled with tourists. The shuffling horde flowed towards the same squat building, which was already surrounded by a throng of moaning corpses.

  He pushed forward, reaching the back of the throng. There, on top of that building. There was a black man clad in white with violent eyes of the most putrid green he could imagine, the kind lurking in children’s nightmares. This man wore an impossibly white smile, each tooth ending in a gleaming point as if filed. His head shone under the moonlight, shaven bare like an egg.

  How could the nameless corpse reach this man? He watched the throng. They beat upon the walls of the building to no avail. They lacked the strength to enter or climb. He would fare no better even if he could forge a path through their ranks.

  He must be stronger. Strength came from feeding. There were no humans around, no source of fresh meat. But there were zombies. So many z
ombies. He leaned forward, snatching a young man with a scraggly beard and vacant eyes. The man hissed, extending a black tongue like some twisted snake.

  He seized the young man’s head in both hands, snapping the neck with a sharp crack. The body slid to the ground, the thud muted by the moaning zombies. He knelt, grabbing the head with both hands. He slammed it into the ground in three brutal blows, the last splitting the skull. Then he pried away bits of bone to fish out the grey matter within.

  He devoured it, wolfing down chunks as quickly as he could extract them. The hunger abated. He fed more quickly, slurping up the remains. More. He must have more. The next to fall was an old woman, short and round in a pale dress stained with dirt and blood.

  “Stop,” the voice commanded. A voice that must be obeyed. He froze, gazing up at the figure atop the building. The nameless corpse’s hands were coated in gore, his face smeared with the same. That was bad. Wrong. People didn’t do that. He remembered a word. Decorum.

  The figure hopped from the roof, landing lightly next to the nameless zombie. He needed a way to refer to himself. Thinking in the third person was wrong somehow. Awkward. So much pronoun confusion.

  “You were feeding on these fodder,” the black man said, smile becoming a wicked grin as he stared down at the nameless corpse. “Can you understand me?”

  “Yes,” the corpse rasped from a throat no longer suited to speech. It was the first word he could remember attempting.