Land of the Dead

by Robert Swartwood

  “We’re below ground,” Conrad said.

  Norman nodded.

  “I don’t even remember them bringing me here.”

  Down the corridor, the low humming of Albert’s wheelchair grew fainter. It was impossible not to notice the heavy silence.

  “Where is everybody?” Conrad asked, aware suddenly that, besides the scientist, they were alone in the facility.

  “If Albert had his way, you would still be in that room.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No,” Norman said. “Don’t thank me.”

  The captain turned and started down the corridor. He only stopped when he realized Conrad wasn’t following.

  “Sir,” Conrad said, “what Albert said in there ... it isn’t true.”

  “We don’t have time for this. We need to move now.”

  They walked through one corridor after another until they came to the elevator. They took the elevator to the ground level. They walked down the hallway, past the desk where Cynthia was now absent, through the glass doors, and out into the parking lot.

  Only two cars were present here, Norman’s and what Conrad assumed was Albert’s. They got into Norman’s and headed away from Living Intelligence, down the road passing the tall pine trees. Neither of them spoke. Not even when they passed the Warehouse and Conrad stared after it did either of them say anything.

  They passed the spot where armed men usually checked identification. They got onto the main road and continued west, heading toward the Shakespeare.

  “Where are we going?” Conrad asked.

  Norman didn’t answer.

  A half hour later they came to the Psyche Institute. It was a long, squat building perched on a hill overlooking Olympus. The majority of the building was made of glass, and in the glare of the midday sun the effect was blinding.

  Norman parked in a visitor’s space near the front. Without looking at Conrad, he said, “You have ten minutes and then I’m leaving, either with or without you.”

  • • •

  He gave his son’s name to the woman behind the desk and watched as she typed it into her computer, watched as she stared at the screen, then watched as she glanced up at him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “One moment,” she told him, and picked up the phone.

  A minute later a doctor came to greet him. He was a tall man with a heavy face and thick-framed glasses. He took Conrad aside, leading him away from the empty chairs and the unwatched televisions hanging from the walls showing morning talk shows, to a corner where they could talk in private.

  “I’m afraid to be the one to tell you this,” the doctor said, “but you cannot see your son.”

  “Why not?”

  “Your wife has barred it.”

  “She can’t do that.”

  “Actually, she can.”

  “Says who?”

  “Her lawyer.”

  The doctor gone, Conrad returned to the woman at the desk. He asked to use the phone. The woman pointed to a phone hanging on the wall by some potted plants.

  He dialed his house and waited three rings before it was answered. Even before he heard someone say hello he started to speak, started to say his wife’s name, but then stopped.

  “Hello?” Anthony Bruno said again.

  Conrad was silent.

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  “Let me speak to Denise.”

  “Well, hello there, Conrad. What a nice surprise.”

  “Cut the shit, Tony. Put Denise on the phone.”

  “Sorry, I can’t do that. She doesn’t wish to speak to you.”

  “This is important.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  There was a silence, Conrad standing there with the phone to his ear, gritting his teeth, doing everything he possibly could not to punch the wall.

  “Remember what I told you before?” Anthony said. “That when it comes down to it, Denise and Kyle are like family to me. I’m looking out for their best interest here. You can appreciate that, can’t you?”

  Before he could respond, the phone was taken away—it sounded almost like it was being wrestled away—and he heard his wife’s voice.

  “Conrad.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be completely honest with me. Can you do that?”

  On the TVs the talk shows shut off simultaneously, the Channel 1 logo materializing on the screens.

  “Can you?”

  “What’s your question?”

  “Did you ever kiss my sister?”

  Conrad closed his eyes. In the darkness there he saw that endless line of dominos, the very first domino having just been tipped over.

  “Wow,” Denise said. “I didn’t want to believe it—I didn’t even believe it when Jess told me—but your silence says it all.”

  One after another, all those dominos falling, nothing to stop them.

  “Can’t you even be a man and admit to your mistakes?”

  Before he could respond he heard the voice coming from the TVs, and he turned, looked up and saw Philip standing on a platform. The words NEW HUNTER GENERAL were at the bottom of the screen.

  “Well? Can’t you?”

  “Denise,” he said, but his voice failed him as he stared up at the TV, as he watched Philip and listened to what the man had to say. Addressing the camera the same way the Leader did, calling everyone citizens, and saying how he had been lied to, that we all had been lied to.

  “Yes, Conrad? What do you have to say for yourself?”

  The camera cut away to show a wider angle of the platform, set up in the courtyard just outside the Herculean. People were everywhere, men, women, children, all staring up at Philip on the platform. At Philip and the four figures beside him.

  Conrad whispered, “Are you seeing this?”

  “Seeing what?”

  Philip had his broadsword out and pointed at the four figures: Scott, Garry, Brooks, and Ruth, all on their knees, their hands tied behind their backs.

  “Denise, I can’t talk about this right now.”

  “Of course you can’t.”

  Traitors, Philip was saying. And the abomination, the monstrosity, the zombie kneeling beside them? These traitorous Government employees were working with this filthy and disgusting creature.

  “I need to see Kyle, Denise.”

  “No, you don’t. The last time you saw him you had him arrested.”

  Philip walked behind the three Trackers and zombie, assuring his citizens that the truth would come out. That he would now make it his goal to learn everything the Government was trying to hide. That he would do everything in his power not only to rid the world of the living, but anyone who associated themselves with the living.

  “You had our son arrested, Conrad. Tony’s going to make sure you never see him again.”

  “Denise,” Conrad said, “I’m sorry, but you have no idea what you’re talking about,” and he hung up the phone. He stepped closer to the television just as the picture cut to Ruth. She was the only one showing emotion, her face wet with tears, her shoulders jerking.

  “Citizens!” Philip held his broadsword up even higher above his head, a slash of late-morning sunlight glinting off its edge. “This is for you!”

  The crowd erupted, people shouting and clapping and stomping their feet, the scene reminding Conrad of what had taken place back in the plane hanger outside Tartarus City. Except this was taking place in downtown Olympus, right at the foot of the world’s largest building. And now here Philip turned and went down the line, first Scott, then Garry, then Brooks, then finally Ruth, swinging his broadsword just as he had been taught, severing their heads from the rest of their bodies.

  33

  The first thing Conrad said to Norman when he got back in the car was, “General Philip Hager?”

  Norman put the car in gear. They went down the hill, stopped at the bottom, pulled out onto the main road.

  “It came
on sooner than I’d expected,” he said. “I was hoping you’d be in the car with me. How did you know? Did you see it on TV?”

  Leaning his head back on the headrest now, his eyes closed, Conrad nodded.

  “All I had was the radio. I couldn’t see what was going on. He had all four of them there, didn’t he? He had them there and he killed each and every one of them.”

  Again Conrad nodded.

  “Things are moving much too fast now. There’s nothing we can do.”

  Conrad opened his eyes. “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know.” Norman pulled onto the Shakespeare, pressed down on the gas. “But we can’t stay here any longer.”

  “I can’t leave my family behind. I can’t leave Kyle.”

  “You stay and Philip will track you down. He will expire you.”

  “But my family—he’ll come after them.”

  “Do you know what happened this morning?” Norman asked. “It was a drunk driver. He went through a black light and hit the SUV, pushed it over on its side. The cops showed up right away. There was no time for them to get out of there, to try to hide Ruth. From what I understand, they made sure her mask was on, but none of it mattered. She had broken her leg and she was in pain. She couldn’t stop crying.”

  “Slow down.”

  “The cops saw this and called the Hunters. Philip was the first on the scene. They had Ruth tied up in the SUV and Philip ... he tortured her.”

  “Norman, slow down or we’ll be in the next accident.”

  His hands tight around the wheel, passing the slower traffic in the right lane, heading farther and farther away from Olympus, Norman shook his head.

  “He got her to tell him what was going on. But from what I understand, she played it strong. At least for a little. Then she broke, told him enough to know that something really wasn’t right, and he requested an immediate meeting with Thaddeus. And you know that after the Heaven invasion, after Philip’s talk, the general had a soft spot for him. So they met. Philip asked him pointblank if he had any knowledge of three ex-Hunters with a zombie. Thaddeus of course denied it, but Philip didn’t believe him. He expired Thaddeus right where he stood.”

  Conrad touched the captain’s arm. Norman glanced at him.

  “Do you want us to get pulled over?”

  Norman shook his head.

  “Then slow down.”

  Norman eased his foot off the gas.

  When they were at an even pace with the rest of the traffic, Conrad said, “How did Philip get away with it? Nobody tried to arrest him?”

  “You were there in that plane hanger. You saw just how quickly the men reacted to him. Somehow Philip has become their leader. Now it’s just official.”

  “You have to take me back.”

  “You know I can’t.”

  “But my family—”

  “Your family,” Norman said, “is now as good as expired. You going back to try to save them is just going to get you expired too.”

  Conrad was silent for a moment, thinking. “What about everyone at Living Intelligence?”

  “They’ve all fled. Everyone except Albert. He says that he’s the captain of the facility, and like every good captain, he’s going to go down with the ship.”

  “You think Philip’s going to find out about it?”

  “I’d be surprised if he hasn’t already.”

  “Albert won’t tell him anything.”

  “No,” Norman agreed, “but it shouldn’t take them long to figure it out. All the files have been deleted, most of the computers have been destroyed, but that won’t matter. Despite what you think of Philip, he’s very intelligent. I have no doubt he’s looking for me right now. That’s why I switched this car’s plates before I came to pick you up.”

  In the northbound lane, a police cruiser darted past, its lights flashing gray and white.

  “What about all the living at the facility?”

  “Gone.”

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  “Gone,” Norman said. “Albert released them.”

  “What are they going to do?”

  “I don’t know. But Albert figured it was better than having them wait to be killed.”

  A silence passed. The skyline of Olympus grew smaller and smaller in Conrad’s side mirror.

  “So what do we do now?” Conrad asked.

  “Now? Now we do the only thing we can do. We run.”

  • • •

  They traveled south along the coastal highway. The ocean was off to their left, the waves breaking along the beach, dead seagulls scattered along the sand and bobbing up and down in the water.

  Conrad had leaned back in his seat, watched the houses and buildings and fields sliding by. For almost the entire two hours he thought about Denise and Kyle. Not about what had happened between them recently, but the good times they’d shared. Playing catch with Kyle in the backyard. Sitting with Denise on the deck and holding her and staring up at the stars.

  He sat up straight in his seat. “Stop the car.”

  Norman kept driving.

  “Norman, stop the car.”

  When the old captain still gave no acknowledgement, Conrad leaned over and grabbed the wheel. Norman pushed his hand away. He shot an angry glare at Conrad but then glanced at his rearview mirror. He let up on the gas, flicked on his turn signal, and cut across the oncoming lane to pull into a gravel turnoff overlooking the beach and ocean.

  Once the car was stopped, Conrad flung off his seatbelt and opened his door.

  “Wait,” Norman shouted.

  Conrad stepped outside and slammed the door. He stood there then, listening to the crashing waves, to the passing traffic, to the caws of seagulls.

  Norman got out of the car and glared at him over the roof. “We’re wasting time.”

  “Go on without me.”

  “Not this again.”

  “I mean it. Go on without me.”

  “Conrad, we’ve already discussed this. It’s not worth it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. Beth is already gone. She’s been gone. Denise and Kyle are still here.”

  It was noontime and the sky was clear, the sun bright, forcing Norman to shield his face with his arm. He squinted at Conrad and slowly shook his head.

  “I’m telling you, it’s a mistake.”

  “And I’m telling you, I don’t care. I’m going back and you can’t stop me. Tell me you wouldn’t do the same if Beth was still animated.”

  The old captain looked away from him, back out at the ocean.

  “I’m decaying, Norman.”

  “We’re all decaying.”

  “This is different. Every day for the past couple months I’ve been losing hair and skin. The doctors don’t think I’ll last the year.”

  Norman was silent, still watching the crashing waves.

  “Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter if I go back, because even if I get caught I’m going to expire soon anyway. And even if I didn’t, even if I was going to exist forever, I would still go back.”

  Conrad looked down at his hands, moved his wedding band around on his finger. “I know I should have told you earlier, when I first found out. But I just ... I couldn’t. It was my secret. But it wasn’t my only one.” He looked up. “When you had asked me before why I’d hesitated that night I said I didn’t know, but that’s not true. I did know. It had something to do with that adult zombie, something he’d said to the boy.”

  A seagull squawked, another cawed. A third bobbing on the water dipped down low and came back up with a dead flapping fish in its beak.

  “He said, ‘Don’t accept your existence for what it is. Question it. Question everything.’ I don’t know why, but those words stopped me. And ... and ever since then I’ve thought about this woman I don’t know, but somehow I do know her, and I’m almost certain she first told me those words.”

  Conrad placed his hands on the roof, stared straight back at Norman.

  “Is
it really wrong, sir? To accept our existences for what they are? To not question everything?”

  Norman slowly tilted his face to regard Conrad. A heavy breeze picked up, swaying some of his short gray hair.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered. “Right now I don’t know much of anything.”

  “Thank you for everything you’ve done, sir. I truly appreciate it.”

  “I can’t take you back.”

  “I know.”

  “Does that make me a coward?”

  Conrad didn’t answer.

  “I wonder. I wonder what Beth would think.”

  Norman opened his door again, ducked inside. When he leaned back out, he glanced at the highway, waited until there was a break in traffic, and passed a pistol across the roof.

  “Sir, I can’t.”

  “Take it. I have another.”

  Conrad took the pistol. He ejected the clip, saw it was fully loaded, slapped it back in.

  “Do me a favor,” Norman said. “If you get the chance, use it to shoot Philip in the head.”

  The distant roar of a tractor-trailer was approaching up the highway, headed north. Conrad stuck the pistol out of sight.

  A thoughtful expression crossed Norman’s face. “That idea of the dead and the living existing side by side? It’s a nice idea in theory. But it’ll never happen. The world’s already too messed up. For the longest time the world’s been told there is only one way to exist. You can’t just go and change that. You’ll never be able to change that.”

  Norman motioned Conrad to the front of the car. When they both met there, Norman saluted him. “It was an honor to have you as one of my Hunters.”

  Conrad returned the salute. “It was an honor to serve under you, sir.”

  “If and when you do make it back to Olympus, and if and when you do manage to track down your wife and son, what do you plan to do?”

  “I don’t know. I hope I can figure it out by then.”

  Norman smiled. “There’s that word again—hope. It doesn’t mean anything to us. Not in the way it should.”

  The old captain turned away, began walking toward the driver’s side door. He opened it, paused, glanced once more at Conrad.