by Jack Wallen
Jean re-barricaded the door, turned to me, and spoke with an almost child-like excitement. “So, what was in the file?” Do we have a cure?
I had almost forgotten the Mengele file was cracked and I probably wasn’t the first to read its contents. I faced the laptop, nervously opened the file, and discovered its contents were in German. I shouldn’t have been surprised by this. The file read:
Als ich mit meinen Untersuchungen zur Herrenrasse begann war ich sicher, dass der Schlüssel zu ihren Geheimnissen in den Genkombinationen der genetischen Permutationen von Zwillingen verborgen lag. Ich war besessen von dieser Theorie. Aber nach Jahren fehlgeschlagener Experimente verwarf ich sie schließlich. Die Vorstellung der Perfektion zerronn zwischen meinen Fingern. Hätte der Führer gewusst, dass meine Studien fruchtlos waren, er hätte mich sicherlich in die Duschen geschickt. Ich musste etwas finden, das den Herrn Hitler zufrieden stellt. Unsere Kriegsanstrengungen beginnen fehlzuschlagen. Es ist Zeit, einen neuen Ansatz zu wagen. Ich hatte an einer anderen Idee geforscht, die uns helfen würde, die Welt von gottlosen Abscheulichkeiten zu befreien. Anstelle von Gaskammern, Kugeln und Arbeitslagern würde ein Mittel treten, den menschlichen Geist über nie gekannte Grenzen hinaus zu in Wut zu versetzen. Ich hatte ein Serum entdeckt, das den Geist und das Schmerzempfinden eines normalen Menschen betäubte. Rasende Wut füllte jede seiner Zellen, und sein einziger Daseinzweck war es zu zerstören. Die Effekte waren kurzlebig, aber wenn man das Serum in eine Art Virus umfunktionierte der von Mensch zu Mensch übertragbar war, zum Beispiel durch Speichel; ich glaube das wäre die Antwort, die das Dritte Reich sucht.
Mir kam die Idee, als ein tollwütiger Hund ins Lager eindrang und die Gefangenen angriff. Der Hund schien aus purer Wut gemacht zu sein… nur eine Kugel durch den Kopf stoppte sein Toben. Der tollwütige Hund war der Auslöser für die erste Version meines Virus. Und wie der Hund würden alle, die sich dem Führer widersetzten – Juden, Schwarze, Schwule – einen furchtbaren Tod sterben. Das Mengele-Virus würde ohne Gnade, ohne Furcht und ohne Heilung sein.
My German was non-existent. Fortunately, our little group was privileged to have one certified native-speaking German. Gunther translated the file for me. I waited nervously as he worked on the laptop to slowly peck out the translation. When he completed the task, he turned the laptop to me. The translation read:
When I first began my experiments on the Master Race, I was certain the key lay in the secrets locked away in the genetic combinations in the gene permutation of twins. I became obsessed with this theory, but after years of failed experimentation, I finally gave up the theory. The idea of perfection was slipping between my fingers. The Fuhrer would certainly have me sent to the showers if he knew my studies had borne no fruit. I had to find something to please Herr Hitler.
Our efforts in the war are starting to fail us. It is time for a new approach. I had been researching another idea that would help use rid the world of Godless atrocities. Instead of gas chambers, bullets, and work camps, I discovered a medical means to enrage the human mind beyond a threshold never before possible. I had discovered a serum that would numb normal man to pain and thought. Rage filled every sense and the singular purpose was to destroy. The effects are short lived, but if the serum could be made to act like a virus, spread from human to human through the saliva, I believe I would have the answer the Third Reich sought.
The idea came to me when a rabid dog broke into the camp and began attacking the prisoners. The dog seemed to be made of pure rage. Only a bullet through the head stopped the beast from continuing its rampage.
That rabid dog led me to develop the first strain of my virus. And just like that dog, the Jews, Blacks, and gays…and anyone not of the Fuhrer’s liking, would die a maddening death. The Mengele Virus would be without mercy, without fear, and without cure.
That was it. There was no cure…just the mad ramblings of a lunatic. I wanted to toss the laptop out a window and scream loud enough to shame the screams of the zombies below. Everyone stared at me as disappointment registered on each face, but none so much as mine.
“I don’t understand.” Jean spoke the words that were rattling around in all our heads. “I thought that file contained the cure for the virus. We had all –”
“I know, I know! Every last hope for the world’s survival rested in the contents of that file. Well, it turns out the world was just given the finger from the grave,” I spat out the words along with my anger.
“What do we do now?” Sally was still shaken by the mysterious stranger, and was near a mental and physical break down.
What I most wanted to say was that we should all give in and join the zombie party; toss fuck-all to the wind and let the screamer in the next room turn us all into blathering, raging idiots, hell-bent on cranium diving until the end of the end finally draws the curtain on this farce. But that’s not what this crew needs. We were staring at a tipping point and I wasn’t about to let everything, or anything, fail.
“What we do is start from square one. We still have all of Dr. Godwin’s research, which has to lead us somewhere. Somewhere inside his work, there has to be some form of a cure. We find that and our first priority is to help Susan. When Susan is cured, we can focus on the bigger picture.” My speech wasn’t highlight-reel worthy, but it conveyed the message.
“And what do we do about our mystery man?” Gunther reminded me of that which I did not want to be reminded.
I stood, staring at a very hospital-beige wall for what seemed like an eternity, like my mind had locked up. I expected to snap out of my fugue and see everyone either dead or gone. Instead, when I managed to regain my senses, they were still just staring back at me, anxiously awaiting my next words.
“We have two choices. We beat the son of a bitch at his own game, or we let loose the dogs of war and let them, or actually it, take care of our problem.” I didn’t even get the chance to mull the idea over before it leaped out of my mouth, but I liked where it was going.
“What are you saying, Bethany?” Jean said, a bit slow to catch on.
“I know exactly what she’s saying and she’s crazy.” Sally, on the other hand, knew precisely the madness I was eschewing, and she wasn’t terribly keen on the plan.
What I want to do is let loose our screamer, barricade ourselves in Susan’s room, and hope the screamer can track down our phantom stranger and remove his brain matter before he manages to take us down one by one. It is a truly mad plan, I knew that as soon as it graced conscious thought, but it could work.
“We knocked the thing out once before, we could do it again,” I pled my case with the group.
“And what if the zombie doesn’t bother with the fucker and bolts to join his brothers and sisters in the outside world?” Sally, as always, was the voice of reason.
“That man said he was going to infect Sally. How? Is it possible he knows more about the virus than we do? Could he help us find a cure? We don’t know the answer those questions, but he might. We need him alive until we know for sure.”
Gunther was right, of course. The only logical option was to somehow capture the stranger and question him. We could always threaten to turn the tables and infect him, Jacob style. We needed a plan.
And as if on cue, the zombie began roaring its disapproval again. The sound entered our ear canals and penetrated every living cell of our bodies, making each of us want to puncture both ear drums. There was no barrier to entry, as if a switch was flipped and our bodies went from completely relaxed to fully rigid.
As the screaming echoed off the walls of the room, they planted the seed of an idea that quickly took root and sprouted the branches of clear thought. The gang saw the idea cross my face and turned as if to collectively say “well?”
Jean reached for a loaded hypo he was about to use on the zombie next door and I put my hand up to stop him before his feet to even receive the impulse to move.
“Let it scream.” The idea was made whole and was boosted by a renewed confidence such that I was abl
e to let everyone else in on the plan.
“The monster will surely draw the attention of our friend, who will have to show up in order to silence the screaming. When he shows up –”
“We take him down,” Gunther finished my thought with enough extra emphasis to put a smile on everyone’s face.
The monster next door let out his howl of approval, reminding us that we would have to suffer through the aural attack. This might well be the toughest challenge we have yet had to face. When the beast released another raging assault on my hearing I wanted nothing more than to waltz into the undead chamber and blow a hole in its head. But that beast was, for the moment, quite valuable to us.
While the zombie was shrieking its siren song to the stranger, I took it upon myself to gather everything I needed to set up shop in Susan’s room. With the file cracked, I could leave the laptop online so I could do all of my work remotely. The pressing issue was the Obliterator. We have to get supplies soon or we’ll never make it. The vending machines are not going to last forever…and I know the human body cannot sustain itself on junk. So I have to focus every ounce of energy I have on finishing the only weapon we know will be able to protect us from the undead scourge.
In the meantime, we set up a watch to look out for our unfriendly assailant. The system was simple; plant Gunther in the room with the screamer (along with some damn good earplugs) and the minute the stranger makes an attempt to silence the beast, we text Gunther who then leaps out and pumps the stranger full of the same love potion that was previously keeping the zombie in a tranquil state.
The plan was set, all we had to do was wait it out. During that waiting period my goal is to finish the Obliterator, so we can test it on a living dead subject. I realize the plan is a bit of a failed congruence, but it’s the best we have at the moment.
Aren’t you so excited?
Blog entry 12/8/20105 1:05 am
The infernal howling from the other room is preventing sleep on any level. No one has managed to get even the slightest hint of a nap. The zombie hasn’t given us a moment of peace since it awoke. We debated changing tactics but ultimately decided this is still the best plan.
It’s my watch now. Of course, I never really stopped watching. The Obliterator is ready for testing, so the only thing I can do for the moment is watch and write.
The light in Susan’s room is out, only the dim glow of the laptop penetrating the gloom. We need to hide under the cover of shadow so the stranger won’t suspect anything. After waiting as long as we have, I am beginning to wonder if the stranger has other, better plans than to silence a trapped screamer.
Just as the zombie must have taken a breath to unleash another storm of screams, a rattling sound drifted down from the ceiling. Someone, and I can guess who, is in the ceiling above us. I positioned myself so it looks as if I am sleeping, but I still have the whole room in my field of vision. The light of the computer screen is casting an eerie glow throughout the room, giving me just enough light to take a shot.
My breath was coming in shallow bursts, my pulse racing. The shit was about to go down. The rattling ceased and then a ceiling tile started to slide to the side. Ever so slowly a pair of legs began to lower down to the floor. As soon as the feet hit tile I acted.
“Don’t move mother fucker or I will –”
The man turned my way, preparing to jump me. I pulled the trigger. The blast from the gun was blinding in the darkness of the room and was followed by a scream nearly shaming that of the monster next door. The frightened screams of Jean and Sally joined in the symphony.
“Sally, get the lights!”
When the lights popped on the man covered his face with the arm not holding his thigh. He screamed again, but this time out of anger, not pain.
“You fucking bitch!”
The noise of the gunfire was enough to draw Gunther back into the room, and I quickly instructed him to tie our friend to something secure. Although I wanted to deal with the man immediately, I have far more important tasks to tend to. The Obliterator tops the list.
Things were getting scary, fast. We now had a big unknown in our midst who could be nothing more than a psycho, but I wasn’t about to take my chances. We have to tread very carefully at the moment since everything could so easily spiral out of control. We have to take this one crisis at a time, or else we threaten corruption of what precious little control and safety we’ve built for ourselves. We are not many and we grow weaker by the day. But as it would happen, a tiny crack in the fabric of fate has opened up to allow a wisp of hope to seep in.
As anyone reading this may know, nothing is easy. The world has upended and the righting will take much time and even much more effort. We cannot give up, we cannot give in.
I motioned for Sally to follow me. “It’s time to test this device.”
Sally’s eyes grew heavy and the corners of her mouth drooped to the ground. I knew what she was thinking. I had to convince her otherwise.
“I know you’re exhausted, but I really need your help. The thing cannot get away. All you have to do is write some notes for me. That’s all. And as soon as we’re done, we’re out and back to sleep.” I made eye contact with her and placed my hand on her shoulder so there would be no mistaking my sincerity. She nodded her approval and we opened the door to the room holding the undead monster captive.
The screamer was still tightly lashed to the metal table. The sound in the room was horrible, like metal fingernails scraping on chalkboards forged in Hell. I wanted to run far away, but I knew this was our only hope.
“Sally, I’m going to start up the device,” I yelled over the monstrous cacophony. “As I change the frequency and oscillation, I’ll read the numbers off to you. I want you to write the numbers down. When I find the right combination, take note.”
“How will we know you’ve found the right combination?” Sally’s question was legitimate.
“Trust me, we’ll know.”
I handed Sally a hypo and instructed her to inject it into the screamer as soon as we found the right combination. She nervously accepted the duty, but I was afraid the woman would come undone right before me.
As soon as Sally gave me the sign she was ready, I fired up the device. A soft humming sound filled the room. I started with a 75 hertz tone, knowing the sound would be far too low, but I didn’t want to take any chances. Once 75 hertz was established I kicked in the oscillations at 1 radian per second.
The creature responded with the same howling sounds.
“It’s not doing anything!” Sally responded with the obvious.
I decided to throw caution to the wind and kicked the settings up to 500 hertz and 10 radians per second.
The noise was not much more than a soft thumping hum. The response from the zombie? Nothing.
1,500 hertz at 20 radians per second.
Nothing.
10,000 hertz at 50 radians per second.
The zombie was still mercilessly screeching; the look in its dead eyes sent shivers of fear across my skin.
15,000 hertz at 50 radians per second.
The sound was becoming almost painful, but finally we were rewarded with a change in the monster’s behavior.
“Look at it. Oh, my God, Bethany, what is it –?”
“The thing is afraid. This is it, Sally. Circle those numbers.”
The Obliterator hit the right frequency-to-oscillation ratio and the zombie went silent. The thing’s face turned to me and its jaw started chattering. The sound of the teeth clacking together was an erratic castanet attempting some strange, out-of-sync time signature that fit with no music I had ever heard. The sick-white eyes went from complete rage to absolute fear within a heartbeat. I waved my hand in front of the zombie’s face, only to witness it flinch. Teeth chattered faster and harder; surely they would start shattering, one by one.
I thought for sure the zombie was going to start weeping and begging me to silence the noise. Had I not known the destructive force these things ar
e capable of, I might have actually allowed myself a moment of pity, but pity would never be a part of my emotional makeup towards these beasts. The only feeling I had for them was hatred. Hatred for the danger they posed to all living humans, and hatred for what they represented. No matter how much fear this thing displayed, I still wanted to crush its head.
Sally circled the correct combination and then sent the hypo to the hilt in the beast’s stomach. The monster’s chattering teeth slowed and finally stopped altogether as Sally and I stared at the now sleeping zombie in silent relief. We knew that, at any moment, everything could turn and it would be us on the table and the zombies having their way, or their dinner. But for that one moment all was right in our world. We had captured a threatening stranger, we had possession of a working Obliterator, and now we could finally get some much needed sleep.
Sally and I backed out of the room and returned to Susan’s room to inform our companions of the good news. Jean had patched up the stranger’s leg. Seeing Jean’s handiwork and realizing what I had done put a knot in my stomach. As if it wasn’t enough to be dealing with teeth gnashing zombies, I now have to face the guilt of shooting a man that, most likely, had been about to kill me. Me and my conscience needed to have a serious talk.
Jean gave the stranger enough of something to relieve the pain and knock him out. That, in turn, ensured that we could all finally get some peaceable rest. As with every tomorrow, it seems, the day facing us will be long and hard.
And with that I say, good fucking night.
Blog Entry 12/8/2015 1:16 PM
I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it was to sleep through the entire night – and morning – and not be awakened by screaming, crashing, moaning, or anything zombie related. Even our stranger slept through without so much as a peep. Thanks to the ever-vigilant Jean, both of our pets were given a booster dose of “dream” at some point in the early AM.
