by Brad Knight
Mack almost dropped the shotgun when his body was pushed back into his seat. Amber was gunning it down the street. She barreled right over and through several undead. They bounced off the hood. Some rolled up on to the front of the car and crashed into the windshield.
The police car emerged into meat puppet clogged streets. Immediately both Amber and Mack had reservations about the choice to drive out there. Thousands of nanite driven undead occupied the infamous Las Vegas Strip. Getting through them would prove to be extremely difficult.
“Whatever you do, don’t let your foot off the gas,” instructed Mack. He rolled up his window and brought the shotgun back into the car.
Meat puppets were bounced, pushed and run over. But with every foot the cop car advanced, its progress slowed. The engine struggled to keep going.
It’s not going to make it. We need to get off this road. And we need to do it now. “See that intersection?” asked Mack as he pointed towards an intersection not too far ahead of them.
The back windshield shattered, taking Mack and Amber by surprise. Both of them knew that chances were they weren’t going to get through the crowd of puppets without incident. But still, it surprised them. And that surprise turned into dread.
Mack turned around in his seat and saw a monstrosity on top of the trunk. It had red eyes and barely any skin left, revealing lots of metallic bone underneath. Under normal circumstances he would’ve told Amber to back up and maybe throw the stowaway off. That wasn’t an option. Any ceasing of forward progress would doom them both.
“Just keep driving!” shouted Mack over the screeches all around them.
Before he could aim his shotgun, metallic tendrils shot out of the red eyed meat puppet’s chest. They wrapped around the passenger seat and its occupant. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t wriggle free.
The red eyed met puppet started to climb inside the police car. Amber had to make a quick decision. She could continue to the intersection and risk the stowaway tearing her and Mack to pieces. Or she could improvise.
“Hold on!” yelled Amber as she sharply turned the steering wheel.
The police car sped towards the glass windows of one of the many casinos on the Strip. Free of undead creatures to slow it down, they picked up considerable speed. Seconds before crashing through the windows, Amber buckled her seat belt.
When the police cruiser crashed through the casino windows, Amber instinctively closed her eyes. But she didn’t take her foot off the wheel.
A thick concrete pillar brought the police cruiser to an abrupt stop. Amber’s seat belt kept her in the vehicle. An air bag cushioned her head and helped with the whiplash. The tendrils wrapped around Mack did the same. Only one passenger went flying out of the front windshield. That was the red eyed meat puppet.
What…where…? Mack was a bit dazed. He added his neck to his long list of injuries in the crash. The good news was that the tendrils that restrained him before were now loose, so he could move.
Amber groaned. The teen slowly raised her head from the deployed airbag. “Are we dead?” she asked, groggily.
“Not yet.” Mack freed himself from the limp metallic tendrils around his torso and seat. He heard a cacophony of screeches. Shadows of meat puppets were rushing towards them and the wrecked car. “But we will be if we don’t get out of here.”
Mack got the shotgun and pushed open his door with his body weight. Amber followed suit. They both froze when they saw a pair of red eyes rise in front of them. Their brief moment of disbelief didn’t last long.
A blast from Mack’s shotgun almost took the red eyed monster’s head off. He and Amber ran together into the unknown darkness of the casino. Predictably, the meat puppets followed.
Having spent so much time in the powerless streets of Las Vegas, both Amber and Mack’s eyes adjusted to the lack of light. They had some night vision. The human version wasn’t great. Still, it was enough for them to get around. Even if there was some tripping and running into things.
Mack had two objectives. Finding a way out and to (relative) safety was their priority. Avoiding getting eaten was also very important.
The duo entered the casino in a shopping and restaurant sector of the complex, so they didn’t have to navigate the maze like layout of a casino floor. That helped. All they had to do was look for an exit.
Mack had to will his body to run. Even then he wasn’t at full speed. Amber slowed down a bit to match his pace. The problem was, that pace wasn’t fast enough.
“We’re not going to outrun them,” said Mack. He stopped running.
“Not if we stop. What are you doing?” Amber was dumbfounded that Mack stopped running.
Mack looked around. It was too dark to make out any signs or to tell what was what. So he gambled and just chose a mystery storefront randomly.
Turns out, he chose wisely. He and Amber entered what was a bar. That gave them the cover he wanted and they needed. From there he could pick off the meat puppets with his shotgun, with protection.
They both hurried behind the bar. Amber stayed down while Mack stood up and aimed his shotgun towards the entrance. All he needed to do was wait for the meat puppets to come to him. Being stationary helped him avoid moving, which was a painful endeavor for him.
The first meat puppet stopped in front of the entrance to the bar. It crouched, and looked to be sniffing at the air. After a few seconds its head quickly turned towards Mack. Without delay it ran inside after him.
Sure enough, the other meat puppets followed the initial one in. Mack didn’t hesitate. He fired away. Each slug found their mark, tearing chunks out of the advancing monsters. Each shot lit up the dark bar for a split second. Between the gun shots and screeches, the sound was deafening. Amber had to cup her hands over her ears, just so they didn’t ring.
Mack’s plan worked. The floor of the bar was littered with the remains of meat puppets. But there was no time to celebrate. There would be no rest. All the noise he they made would be sure to attract more of them. And he was out of ammo.
“That’s the last time you drive, girlie girl,” said Mack, as he looked over his handiwork.
Chapter 2
: Retrieval
For some people, life does indeed flash before their eyes before dying. That was the case with Ted Gorman when he plummeted from the roof of The Golden Pony. What he saw wasn’t pretty. If there was a St. Peter and a heaven, he was screwed. From childhood to adulthood, his life was a highlight reel of depravity and cruelty.
It started when Ted was a kid. He came from a life of privilege. His father, Thomas Gorman, made a fortune manufacturing medical supplies for hospitals; such as gauze, tape, wipes, gowns and bandages.
The wealth of the Gorman family, and a privileged upbringing, spoiled young Ted. He got anything he wanted. And he was never punished for misbehavior.
Added on top of Ted’s generally shitty attitude and personality, were a litany of mental health issues. Although he was a genius, he was a sociopath. Emotions like empathy and compassion were completely foreign to him. And he was schizophrenic.
Thomas Gorman refused to accept that his son had some serious issues. He didn’t allow them to be addressed. Because addressing Ted’s schizophrenia and sociopathic nature would admit that they exist. Medication was out of the question. Therapy would never happen.
Untreated, Ted slowly became a maniac. First he hurt and killed small animals, like squirrels, dogs or cats. Then in high school he was a ruthless bully. In college, he graduated to assault and borderline rape. And he never once got disciplined.
When Thomas Gorman died (under suspicious circumstances), Ted took over the company. He promptly sold it and laid off its hundreds of employees. The fresh college graduate wanted to start his own business, Galatea Systems.
As he fell, Ted saw his father’s face as his old man died. He saw a neighbor’s cat that he burned alive when he was ten. He saw the groin of Eliza Denmore as he forcefully slid down her panties. He saw the convulsi
ng bodies of soldiers he infected with experimental viruses. He smiled.
Ted fell on top of a mass of meat puppets, too dumb to get out the way. So instead of hitting asphalt, he landed on rotting flesh. It wasn’t enough to save his life, but it did stop his body from spattering upon impact.
In death, Ted Gorman became a carrion feast for some ravenous meat puppets. The creatures ate out of memory and habit, not hunger. For the nanites in their bodies didn’t need food. They had all the fuel they needed, inside their host.
Suddenly Ted came back from the black emptiness of death. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the agony of being eaten alive. No matter how much he wanted to, the CEO of Galatea Systems couldn’t move much. Just about every bone in his body was broken.
What…the…fuck? How am I alive? And am I…am I healing? Jesus, that hurts. Ted could feel the nanites in his blood, bone and tissue knit his body back together. His injuries were grievous, so progress was slow. But it was making progress.
After ten minutes of mending, Ted was able to move his head. He tried to ignore the burning pain and looked at the meat puppets who were still ripping chunks out of him with their mouths. The bites! They’ve infected me. Or re-infected me, to be more accurate. But why can I still think straight? Holy shit, am I a vegetable? Am I like one of those sad bastards who are prisoners of their own bodies?
Talk, Ted. Say something, anything. Prove that you can. Don’t let Mr. Mack win. Him and his little bitch are probably still up on that damned roof, laughing at you. Ted tried to move his arm. He achieved little success. The tendons and muscles were still being reconstructed.
“Look at you,” Ted heard a voice among the crowd of meat puppets around him. It was an all too familiar voice.
Shit not now. I don’t need him to add to my misery. Ted tried moving his legs. He managed to lift one up a couple of inches off the ground before he lost control and it flopped back down.
“My son. The fruit of my loins. Heir to our family fortune. Now look at you.” Ted saw Thomas Gorman amongst the meat puppets. His dead father was walking around him in a circle. He knew it was his father. No other man would be dressed in a ten thousand dollar suit just to haunt his son. “You’re pathetic.”
I need to get up, if only to get away from the old man. Ted groaned as he tried to sit. He could feel jagged shards of his spine trying to poke their way out of the skin on his back. That time he ignored the pain and kept trying.
As soon as he stood up, the meat puppets suddenly stopped biting him. They rose and joined the rest of the puppets. The change in their behavior was immediate.
“Would you look at that? You’re not even worth a midnight snack to these things. How worthless are you, boy?” Ted caught a glimpse of his father’s intensely green eyes.
Ted tried to ignore his father’s ghost. Fueled by equal parts determination, hate and adrenaline, he managed to get up to one knee. He would not fail. Especially not in front of his dad.
Ten more minutes passed before Ted managed to stand all the way up. When he did, he was shocked by the fact that the meat puppets paid him no attention. It was like he was one of them.
Upon looking up towards the roof, Ted couldn’t see Mack nor Amber.
They can wait. I need to know what the hell happened to me. What am I now? Ted limped towards the front entrance to The Golden Pony. It hardly resembled the casino he called “home” for the last couple of months.
The thick glass that served as the front doors to The Golden Pony were broken. What hit him first was the terrible smell. In essence, the casino had become a battlefield full of the dead and undead.
Blood, bodies and shell casings covered the floor of the lobby. Ted couldn’t take a step without bumping into a dead member of The Golden Pony colony or a vanquished meat puppet. In distant hallways and casino floors he heard the screams of the last remnants being killed.
Despite the horror that surrounded him, Ted was unfazed. He reacted no different than if he was strolling through a park. With utter calm he entered the back hall ways and headed towards the elevators that led down to his lab.
“Help! Heeeelp!” Ted heard someone pleading for assistance nearby.
Ted passed the money cage which he had turned into a make-shift prison cell for unfortunate souls, the ones his security teams caught and designated for testing. The bars of the cage were bent and torn open. Streaks of blood covered every wall. Pieces of human flesh were strewn about. Again, Ted paid it no mind.
When he reached the elevator, Ted discovered who was crying for help. There was a man, a Galatea security officer, trying to hold off a meat puppet. It was on top of him, scratching at his face. The security officer was just managing to hold it back from doing more damage. But it was only a matter of time.
“Thank god! Mr. Gorman? Please, get this thing off of me.”
The meat puppet on top of the Galatea security officer turned its head and looked at Ted. Its cloudy dead eyes looked into the CEO’s. Then it went back to its task.
“Sucks to be you,” coldly commented Ted as he proceeded to the elevator doors.
Damn, my card. After searching his pockets, Ted realized he’d lost his identification card at some point during the chaos in the casino. He wondered if along with regaining his ability to heal, he regained the superhuman strength that the nanites provided. If so, he should be able to pry the elevator doors open with his bare hands.
Ted could hear the screams of the Galatea security officer as he lost his struggle against the meat puppet. The screams were ignored. It didn’t take long before they stopped.
Here goes nothing. Ted wedged his fingers into the crack between the steel elevator doors. He expected some trouble opening them up. But they slid apart with ease.
I guess I got my strength back. Now how do I get down? Ted peered into the elevator shaft. It was pitch black. There was a tingle behind his eyes. Then the shaft suddenly looked as if it was lit by daylight. Interesting.
“Looks like you’re going to have to jump,” Thomas Gorman whispered into Ted’s ear from behind.
“That seems a little too far,” answered Ted as he looked at the car at the bottom of the elevator shaft.
“Pussy. Sissy Nancy boy,” mocked Thomas.
Ted turned around. Thomas wasn’t there. Of course he’s not there. He’s dead. You’re just imagining things. Still, he had a point.
“Why not?” asked Ted before hopping into the elevator shaft.
Ted broke an ankle upon landing on top of the elevator car. His legs gave out. His face slammed against a steel pole across the roof. Somehow, he stayed conscious.
That was a bad idea. Oh well, what’s done is done. Ted waited for his ankle and the huge gash on his forehead to heal.
Once healed up, Ted stomped on the roof of the elevator car. It didn’t take long for his labor to create results. His foot went through the relatively thin steel of the roof. All he had to do was open up the hole he made, and make it big enough for him to fit through.
After dropping into the elevator car, Ted pried open the doors. He found himself in the all-white lobby of his lab. In there he found the corpse of a former employee, Eugene. Like every other dead body he came across, he ignored it.
Ted was confronted with another door, locked by a card read system. There was only a glass door that stood in his way. One punch shattered the glass of the door and gave him access to his laboratory.
What Ted was after was the computers in the Galatea lab. Yes, he wanted to find out how he regained the abilities after the EMP blast on The Golden Pony roof, but there was something more important he had to do. He had to send out a message to be picked up.
A normal person wouldn’t strap test subjects to beds and inject them were experimental viruses. If they did, they would certainly cut them loose when the whole world went to shit. Ted wasn’t a normal person. There was not even an ounce of compassion in him. So he walked right by them on his way to the computers.
The computer t
hat Ted used was connected only to other Galatea Systems labs all over the world. Its purpose was to keep the labs informed of what the others were doing. That wasn’t how Ted was planning on using it. He was going to send a SOS message.
Somebody better be around to get this. Ted sat down in front of one of the the computers that were set up in a row, and turned it on.
The nearest labs were just outside Salt Lake City, Utah, and another outside Los Angeles, California. Those were where he would send out his SOS. He hoped that they were still there and functional. Because he had no desire to walk out of Vegas. No, he’d much rather be picked up via helicopter. Who wouldn’t?
Ted typed:
“In need of immediate evacuation. Send clean up squads. Location: Las Vegas Facility - CEO Ted Gorman.”
Ted pressed the “enter” button to send the message. Then he waited. And he waited. The CEO of Galatea waited some more. Until finally he heard the beep he’d been listening for.
“Evacuation message received. Sending clean up squads. ETA 2 hours. Location: Los Angeles Facility - Christopher Granger.”
With the knowledge that he’d soon leave Las Vegas and The Golden Pony behind, Ted was free to try and find out what the hell happened to him. Step one was taking a look at his blood.
There was still full power to the basement lab. The rest of the casino was under emergency backup power, but the lab had its own power source, separate from the city grid. So every piece of equipment still worked.
After drawing his own blood, Ted entered most of it into the system for testing. The rest was put under a high powered microscope. What he found was surprising.
Reinfection re-activated the dormant nanites already in Ted’s blood. Those nanites then started to self-replicate. He didn’t quite understand why or how, but what he saw under the microscope was undeniable. His blood looked the same as it did when he originally infected himself. That made the sociopath genuinely happy.
