Kill Zombies (Leopard King Saga)

by T. A. Uner

  Little did Giselle know that Archie was really a time traveler named Archon, who had arrived in her reality to save her from the Vampire Sect and bring her to Croctus Reptilius’ reality.

  After finishing her story, Giselle waited for Reptilius’ response.

  “A clone?” Reptilius looked at her in a different light. “Did this Archie individual tell you anything else?”

  “What do you mean?” she had a feeling this conversation was headed somewhere.

  “Anything more about his background?”

  “Just what I told you…why?”

  “It could be Archon.” He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know for sure, but Tom’s friend may have sent you to me. You must be the ‘help’ Tom had mentioned. But I don’t know how you can be of any help. It seems that you were designed as a tool for The Sect.”

  “You sure know how to make a person feel like shit, lizard breath.” She felt like running away again; leaving this asshole behind, but where would she go in this alien world?

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, but it seems strange that Archon would send someone who shares the same traits as the antagonists I am supposed to prevent from invading my world.”

  “This is happening all too fast; I just want to go home and pretend none of this is happening.”

  “Is there anything else about you I should know, Giselle?”

  She nodded. I might as well come clean with everything, she thought. He needs to know, and maybe the sooner I tell him the faster I can get home. “I think it would be better if I showed you.” Reptilius followed her into the swamp. “Whenever I get angry I tend to do strange things.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Giselle put her arms around a tree and ripped it from its roots as easy as if she was tearing a sheet of paper in two. “As you can see, this cloned body possesses strength.”

  He looked at her indifferently. “I wonder why you didn’t use this against those Raptors that had you cornered.”

  Giselle hurled the tree. It flew like a javelin through the air before landing into a shallow bog, spraying mud into the air. Sawtooth’s eyes widened. “I think it has something to do with fear. When I’m scared I can’t use my strength. But when I am angry, I can. Kinda like the Incredible Hulk.”

  “Incredible Hulk?”

  “It’s a comic book character from my time. You mean you’ve never heard of comic books?”

  “I’m afraid that sort of entertainment does not exists here.”

  She scowled at him. “Figures; this world of yours doesn’t seem to have much to offer.”

  “No it doesn’t. Its innocence has been stripped away.” He rolled up his ski mask enough to scratch his bare chin. She thought she saw scars lining the lower part of his face, perhaps a glint of sunlight filtering into the swamp was playing tricks on her eyesight. I bet you’ve got a few more secrets in your past, Mr. Lizard. I wonder what they are.

  They headed back to his home. Each keeping their thoughts to themselves. Too much had happened to her in such a short amount of time for her to discount his words. What if her car accident had been part of some master plan? What if she was to be one of the Zombies unleashed upon countless realities, a soldier for these supposed Vampires who sought to enslave the human race? She felt like slicing her wrists and ending it. But doubted Reptilius would loan her a knife.

  “Do you feel the thirst?” he asked her.

  “For blood?”

  He nodded.

  “No. I can control it. Archie taught me how.”

  “Show me.”

  She closed her eyes and relaxed while Reptilius and Sawtooth watched her, making sure to clear her mind of anything that frightened her. Then after she had found peace, she opened her eyes. “Archie called it meditation.”

  “What does this Archie look like?”

  “Just some regular old dude: grayish hair, wrinkled forehead, you know…”

  “No, I don’t know, which is why I asked you.”

  Damn. This guy was a prick and a half. I guess living alone in a swamp with a crocodile doesn’t help your social skills. “That’s really all I can tell you.”

  Outside she heard a sound. It reminded her of someone dropping a plate; causing it to shatter. “What’s that?”

  Reptilius grabbed his ballista and cocked it. “I think we have a visitor. Stay here.”

  “No I’d like to come.”

  He shot her a venomous look and she stopped in her tracks. “Ohh…alright.”

  The croc followed Reptilius out of the house.

  Giselle slumped into a chair. Feeling alone and afraid.

  ***

  Outside Reptilius eyed his surroundings. Except for the caw of a crow the swamp was still. He could hear Sawtooth’s breathing.

  Raising his ballista he surveyed the area around his compound. Two of the rubbish bins had been knocked over, leaving bits of refuse scattered about. “Watch my back, boy,” he told Sawtooth. The croc swiveled his head around and sauntered off.

  Now Reptilius heard the noise again. Followed by a series of grunts. Perhaps it was a swamp boar. He would soon find out. He spun around the side of his house and saw a humanoid. It had torn off the door to his outside utility closest and was scouring the interior, making a mess in the process. Reptilius tiptoed closer to the intruder. He saw that it wore tattered clothing that hung lifelessly from its gaunt body. The cuffs on its trousers were mud-stained.

  It turned around, unexpectedly. Reptilius saw its pale face and lifeless eyes that were devoid of pupils. It growled at him and attacked.

  He managed to get one shot off. The bolt tore through the creature’s chest but did not slow it. He soon found it on top of him as they both struggled for control of his weapon. “Get the fuck off of me.” Reptilius felt its weight on his ribcage before something lifted the being off of him and hurled it backwards like a child’s doll.

  Giselle stood over him and offered him a hand. “I thought I told you to stay inside?” he said as the creature lifted itself off the ground.

  “You’re welcome.” She turned to look at the monster. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “A Death Walker,” he replied just as Sawtooth snuck up behind it and bit into its leg.

  The creature tried shaking the croc off its ankle but Sawtooth wouldn’t budge. It started clawing at Sawtooth, but the croc’s thick scaly skin protected it.

  “You want me to save your friend?”

  Reptilius gave her a sheepish glance, although it wasn’t obvious from his masked face. He loaded a tri-bolt with a low yield acid explosive, making sure it would not injure Sawtooth. He aimed and fired. The three bolts landed in the Death Walker’s chest, and immediately they started dissolving. Sawtooth saw this and tore the walker’s leg off.

  After the Death Walker had been vanquished, Reptilius stood over its ashes while Sawtooth gnawed the walker’s leg. Realizing it had no flavor, the croc spat it out.

  “I didn’t know these things really existed.”

  “They exist,” Reptilius said, holstering his ballista, “but in my reality they were vanquished long ago; and they weren’t sent by an outside force, they were humans who were infected by biological weapons.”

  The creature’s sudden arrival made Reptilius think about the permutations.

  “Are there anymore of these?”

  “I don’t think so; we wouldn’t be standing here if there were. This was most likely a scout. Sent here to probe. It was designed to self-destruct to avoid being captured.”

  Giselle looked frightened. “How do you know?”

  “A feeling.”

  Is that going to happen to me too? Am I going to end up looking like that Zombie?”

  Would she be able to hold onto her humanity? He did not know. Nor did he want her to lose her power out of fear; he would need her for the coming battle. And what of Archon? Would he be sending him more help? To think that Giselle would be his only card against countless Death Walkers was something he
did not want to consider. The girl’s powers were impressive, but they still wouldn’t be enough to abate an army of Death Walkers.

  “Let’s get inside, Giselle. Outside is not a good place to discuss our plans. Who knows, we might even be under surveillance.

  The Scientist

  After they had eaten, Giselle had fallen asleep on his living room settee. Good. Maybe she can replenish her strength and as long as she was asleep she wouldn’t be worrying, Reptilius thought.

  He went outside on his porch and sat down with a bottle of whiskey. Sawtooth was already lounging about, standing sentry. He took a swig and the warm fluid crawled down his chest where it burned for a few seconds before settling into his stomach.

  Reptilius did not normally ingest liquor; it slowed the reflexes and made him drowsy, but he kept it around in the event of emergencies—and this situation qualified as one.

  What is it both Tom and Giselle called these things? Zombies? The world was as alien to him as his world was to Giselle. He wondered if she would ever be able to return to her own world. Despite her impressive powers, Reptilius did not think she would enjoy his overpopulated and environmentally decrepit world.

  When the bottle was half empty he decided to quit ingesting more and put it away. He slid into a chair and watched Giselle’s peaceful sleep. It put him at ease, more than the booze had anyway. Reptilius drifted off.

  He was back in the swamp. Sawtooth was nowhere to be seen. “Where are you, boy?” he called out, but the croc was nowhere to be seen. He was ankle-deep in sludge. Around him consisted of a cluster of bald Cyprus trees, their roots submerged in water so clear he could see the reflection of their green leaves. He also saw his own reflection. He was not wearing his battle helm or black ski mask. He saw his face. It looked like it had before his accident and subsequent disfigurement. He touched it and marveled in its smooth surface. No rough scar tissue or craters that had ravaged his skin. He stood there, mesmerized. He almost had forgotten what he looked like before his face had undergone a transformation for the worse.

  After getting his fill of his new look, he continued his journey. This did not look like his swamp. It was bright, and there were flamingo and ibis activity. It almost looked like a postcard. He felt his feet stick to the mud, and it got more difficult to lift his leg to take a step forward. Eventually he had to stop; this was getting too laborious, even for one with his muscular physique.

  He heard a noise. It reminded him of the same sound the Death Walker had made outside his house, just before he was ambushed. Now he could not move his feet. And where were his weapons? It was not like him to travel without them.

  “Malcolm.” He turned around. Someone was calling his name. It was a raspy voice filled with emptiness. It sounded like a dead man would if one could talk. “Malcolm,” it said again. He told the voice he no longer went by that name, but it repeated its call. Reptilius was not enjoying this dream, it felt…too real.

  He saw a pair of pale arms rise from the water in front of him. They had welts on them that looked like pus-filled eyes. He tried pulling his foot out from under the water but it still wouldn’t budge. “Sawtooth?” he said. Hoping his tetrapod ally would appear to offer him support, but wherever he was, Sawtooth still did not answer his call.

  More hands rose from the water, they formed a semi-circle around him; they drew closer, like shark fins, closing in on an unsuspecting swimmer. He wasn’t used to being preyed upon, he was a predator and this scene was alien to his nature.

  The hands started clawing at him; he felt them trying to drag him underwater. The hands kept multiplying; soon bodies arose from the water: the owners of these arms? They were Death Walkers, and they had come to claim him. To make him one of them. The anomaly returned in front of him. It deposited another in his swamp. The coin began buzzing in his pocket. Time to go see what had arrived. To seek the next piece in this convoluted puzzle.

  Reptilius’ eyes opened. He was still in his living room; Giselle was still sleeping peacefully. At least one of us can, he thought bemusedly. The dream (or nightmare) has stirred his appetite and he toasted three slices of bread and covered with feta cheese spread. As he dined on his meal, he wondered if the dream had a message. Was his subconscious trying to warn him of something? Or was he going insane? Probably both.

  He finished his food and assembled his armor, donning it. The coin had stopped buzzing; he pulled it from his pocket and the light beam projected itself into his mind. Another set of coordinates. He wondered what he would encounter this time.

  He left Giselle asleep—no sense waking her; he wanted to greet his new guest alone—and closed the door behind him. Making sure to program the door not to admit anyone except him or Sawtooth. The croc was still there on the porch, waiting. Loyal creature, Reptilius thought. More loyal than any human he had met in his lifetime.

  Sawtooth heard him and his ridged head swiveled around to greet Reptilius. The croc opened his maw and gurgled coarsely.

  “No, boy,” Reptilius answered. “You stay here, guard the girl.” Not that she needed guarding. But Reptilius felt he still had an obligation to watch over her; keep her safe.

  Sawtooth gave him a tired sad, look and sighed. Reptilius wondered if the croc felt the same emotions humans did. It was possible. Then again he was no ordinary crocodile.

  Reptilius flipped up his visor: the night sky was a charcoal blackboard, filled with layered clouds that gave the full moon a wide berth. It gave him the light he needed to find what he sought.

  He trekked through the familiar terrain of his locale. Careful not to make enough noise to attract any Raptors. He had enough on his mind.

  After fording a thin brooklet at the edge of a slight hill he saw a slab of light come into view. A tangled canopy of twisted branches blocked out the moonlight so he activated his wristlight. The light opened up before him and cut a swath across the darkness. When he reached the anomaly, he scanned it with his sensor. This one was smaller than the other two: the first one that had taken him to Tom II’s reality and the second one that had brought Giselle to his world.

  Reptilius dimmed his light and studied the readings. There was no mistake. This anomaly did not register similar to the others.

  The fissure started contracting in front of him. He eyed it like an owl, meticulously, and within seconds it faded. A wave of darkness enveloped him now that the anomaly’s glow was gone.

  Something groaned. He activated his wristlight. To his right was a body, face-down in a layer of mud which resembled cow shit. The man (at least it sounded male to Reptilius) wore a white labcoat. Reptilius put away his ballista; he figured this docile-looking man posed no threat, for now.

  He helped the man up. He groaned like someone with a nasty toothache and wiped the mud from his face. The front of the man’s labcoat was brown-stained, a contrast to the unsullied back which, Reptilius thought, resembled a vanilla frosted chocolate cake.

  “Where in blazes am I?” he asked in an English accent. “What the bloody hell is this place?”

  Reptilius shined the light on the man but he waved at the light as if being pestered by relentless gnats. “Get that blasted light out of my face, dear God. Who are you?”

  “Since you’re intruding in my domain, I get to ask the first question,” Reptilius said. “Let me repeat your question: who are you?”

  The man uttered what Reptilius took for a four-letter expletive. “You’re an aggressive bloke aren’t ye?” He took out a handkerchief from his pocket; saw that it too had been sullied and cursed again. “Well if you must know I’m Dr. Richard Holbourne. Chief cyberneticist, MI6. I’m committing a major breach of conduct by revealing my identity but somehow I doubt I’m still in England. Now I ask again, where in bloody blazes is this place?”

  Reptilius handed Holbourne a clean towel from his knapsack. “You’re in The Florida Everglades: under the jurisdiction of the Southeastern United States.”

  “Southeastern United States?” Holbourne replied,
looking at Reptilius through suspicious eyes. “Never heard of it.”

  Probably because you’re from another reality. “I think you’d better come with me, Doctor. There’s a lot I think I need to tell you, and not a whole lot of time for formal introductions.”

  Back at his house Giselle was already awake. The door had been torn off like a can lid. Inside Giselle was staring down at Sawtooth, who returned her gaze in his own acrimonious way.

  “That wasn’t a nice thing to do,” Reptilius said, pointing to his nonexistent door.

  “Neither was locking me up like some criminal; this overgrown suitcase won’t let me

  out.” Giselle took a step toward the door while Sawtooth countered her movements, blocking her route. Reptilius gave her an uncompromising look.

  “What the hell happened here?” Holbourne chimed in.

  “I woke up and next thing I knew I was a prisoner.” Giselle eyed Holbourne. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Dr. Richard Holbourne, MI6 design & development division. As I told your friend on our way here, I was brought against my will. Say that’s a bloody big reptile, mate.” He looked at it excitedly like a child eyeing a bowl of ice cream. “Is it real?”

  “We can discuss repairing my door later,” Reptilius told Giselle, ignoring Holbourne, “the doctor was also brought here by an anomaly.”

  Holbourne pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. “I wish someone would tell me what is happening? Why am I here?”

  Reptilius eyed the cigarette distastefully, Holbourne continued smoking. “Don’t ever light another one of those in my house again, doctor,” Reptilius said. Sawtooth inhaled a wisp of second-hand smoke and began coughing.

  “Oops, sorry.” He took another drag before extinguishing the cigarette against his shoe heel.