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Lie Zombie Lie (I Zombie)

Page 23

by Jack Wallen


  No response came. The commander slammed a powerful fist onto a thick, wooden table. The echo resounded off the metallic walls of the lab within the transport.

  “I asked you a question. Is that clear?”

  “Yes sir. Perfectly.”

  The stare down lasted only a few seconds, before Faddig smoothed out the front of his jacket and returned his spine to the rail-straight position it was used to.

  “We should arrive in Canada soon. I will leave you to your preparations.”

  Commander Faddig slowly exited the room, leaving Doctor Kinkaid alone with his misgivings and questions.

  “Why bring a harmless journalist back to life?” Kincaid lobbed the rhetoric into the air around him. There was no answer to be had. The question only beget more, deeper questions. The one making the most noise inside the skull of the doctor was whether or not Faddig (along with the whole of the The Collective) had lost his mind.

  The soft, cooing sound of baby Jacob brought Kincaid screaming back to the now. He looked down into the bassinet to see Jacob smiling up at him. Was it possible the baby knew something? Could this post-apocalyptic messiah have an insight no other had? Was the little guy boring into the doctor’s brain in search of a weakness, a deep-seeded fear?

  “Well, Jacob, looks like your daddy might be coming back to the land of the living.” Kincaid chuckled almost imperceptibly. “Nothing seems to want to stay dead these days. Even death is a lie.”

  Epilogue

  December 24, 2016 11:17 PM

  Unknown location

  Zombie Radio Nation. It’s yet another apocalyptic Christmas here on good ol’ planet Go Fuck Yourself. This is Bethany Nitshimi here to bring you bad tidings of hate and not even so much as a crumb of fruit cake in your stockings. We’ve been Grinched and Scrooged yet again this holiday season. But hey, that’s okay! We’ve grown accustomed to this new way of life – right? It’s like the old hacker credo, less is more. If you knew your bash scripting, you’d get that joke. Otherwise, ladies and gents, just smile and nod.

  Christmas. Yeah. Christmas. A holiday that was, at one point, filled with joy and merriment, now a barren landscape of loss and suffering. It’s been over a year…I think. Hell, I don’t actually know how long it has been. It feels like a century has passed since I showered. I know…imagine how rank I smell. Oh listen to me, practically resorting to fart and dick jokes for ratings. Look into my eyes, does it seem like I give a shit?

  I let a silence waft into the airwaves. I needed that brief moment to collect myself. I had become prone to random fits of anguish – thanks to the loss of my baby. Since the moment of his capture I have daily sworn to all that I hold holy and dear that I would return that baby to my arms. One way or another, Jacob will be reunited with his mother.

  I’m sorry.

  Another silence.

  It gets lonely in the apocalypse. I never thought I’d spit those words out, but it’s true. Even with friends and loved ones by my side, loneliness still manages to creep its bastard way into my gut. It doesn’t hurt that the only remaining family I had was ripped from my arms.

  Before I could choke out the next words, Jamal was standing at the window of my new broadcast booth holding up a hand-written sign. The sign simply said:

  We got a hit!

  The short sentence had me sucking wind and wanting to scream joy out into the universe. I didn’t. The entirety of the Zombie Radio Nation (if there was still such a thing – I was hardly even a serviceable replacement for the original) would go deaf at my exhalation. Instead, I opted to let something different flow from my soul.

  When was the last time you felt joy? I’m talking the birth of your first child kind of joy, or your first paycheck from your dream job kind of joy. It’s out there – still. Even among the trash, rubble, and chaos there is still joy and pleasure to be had.

  God, I just wanted to wrap this up so I could know what the hit was. I knew what Jamal was referring too – my tracking script – but had no idea of the details.

  Segue. Segue!

  If you are listening to me, that means you are still beating incredible odds. The human race is at critical mass and anyone still living is playing with house money. For over a year we’ve bested the bastards that did everything they could to terrorize and cripple mankind. And even though they’re still out there, attacking and corrupting, we’re still standing. That’s right babies, momma’s still standing and she’s gonna fight like a mad bitch from Hell until everyone is safe from those makers of mayhem.

  Jamal returned with another hand-written sign stating:

  Take off, eh!

  You know, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve played you a song. I think it’s that time again my lovelies. But what kind of madness can I drop on you?

  Jamal’s sign finally smacked me upside the head. I tossed a wicked grin his way and he gave me his goofiest thumbs up.

  I’m going to take you back to the ’80s and this strange little tune that stars two comedians and one high-pitched singing, kick-ass bass playing Canuck. Take off ya hoser!

  The silly little Bob and Doug Mackinzie song danced out of the monitors as I ran to the door, flung it open, and wrapped my arms around Jamal.

  “Your program worked. We tracked down a call from a mobile to Calgary, Canada. Commander Faddig, searching for a suitable lab in order to continue the ground-breaking work of the Zero Day Collective. Morgan has dispatched the Calgary Zombie Response Team on a recon mission. In the mean time, break out your tuque and your parka, we’re heading to the Great White North!”

  “Cooo, loo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coooo!” I sang out.

  “Beauty, eh?” Jamal replied.

  Did stereotypes still exist in this post-apocalyptic world? If not, I’d make sure to start some new ones. The first? Pissed off, bad-ass, no-name-taking mother. And that, my friends, was no lie.

  About the Author

  Jack Wallen is a seeker of truth and a writer of words. Although he resides in the unlikely city of Louisville, Kentucky, he likes to think of himself more as an interplanetary soul … or so he tells the reflection in the mirror. He’s also the author of:

  I Zombie I

  My Zombie My

  Die Zombie Die

  Lie Zombie Lie

  Zombie Radio

  T-Minus Zero

  Hell’s Muse

  Screampark

  Klockwerk Kabaret

  Shero

  Shero II: Zombie A GoGo

  A Blade Away

  Gothica

  Endgame

  If you want to receive an automatic email when Jack’s next book is released, sign up here. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  For any author to succeed, word of mouth is crucial. If you enjoyed Lie Zombie Lie, please consider leaving a review at Amazon, even if it’s only a line or two; it would make all the difference and would be very much appreciated.

  Contact Jack!

  To get more information about Jack, stop by his web site, Get Jack’d, and learn more. You can also send Jack an email to jack@getjackd.net.

 

 

 


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