If other day cares had experienced zombies dying, he had not heard. If longevity was an issue, this might be the first case. It felt good knowing these creatures would eventually die. It gave him hope.
“How long have they been like this?”
“About a week,” Stanley said, as he pointed the red dot of a thermal scanner at Jill. “Seventy-five degrees. It was eighty when I brought them down here. I am guessing when it hits room temperature they’re done.”
“Then what?” Henry felt a strange big of sympathy.
“Then, the up and ups said to cremate them.”
The zombie girls were each hooked to a pulse and blood pressure monitor. The digital pulse figure was between 15 -20 beats per minute, compared to the usual 40 -50 bpm. The blood pressure readout was blank.
As his father blew smoke into the air, a hum and whir sounded and the wispy vapor was sucked into a vent above. The sound stopped. Stanley looked up, blew more smoke, and the sound returned, taking away the smoke, but the fans kept going.
“So, is the cremation chamber working?”
“Sure, that’s where all the garbage goes.”
It was a fitting end to the zombies. As far as he was concerned, they never should have stopped the genocidal disintegration. The zombies weren’t people; they were flesh-eating life takers, the bottom of the food chain. He saw it first hand, and it still horrified him. If there was anything he could do to stop them he would, but the WHS wouldn’t allow it. He kept those thoughts to himself.
He was deep in contemplation when he felt something brush against his lab coat. He let out a cry of alarm when he turned.
“Mom!”
She didn’t reply. He backed up, facing her. Her curly red hair was in contrast to the metallic environment surrounding her. She was as tall as him, dressed in tight blue jeans and a brown wool turtle neck sweater. His nerves were on edge from the unexpected sight. It had been a long time since he had seen her. She opened her mouth to speak.
“Num-Num. Num-Num.”
His heart collapsed in his chest. Her resemblance to the real thing had caught him off guard. She followed him around the table as he backed away, giving her a closer inspection. She has a wig on! Her clothes, painted nails and make-up increased the illusion of a real woman. Her cracked and sunken eyes, slack jaw and pasty hands reminded him she was still a zombie.
“What did you do?” he said, voice cracking. He was freaking out. She almost looked like someone he once loved. He fought an instinctive urge to hug her. “Why is she here running loose?”
“Henry … settle down,” Stanley said in a reassuring voice. “She’s as sweet as a kitty cat. Just look at her. She’s still got that something, makes those jeans look just right … just like the first time I saw her.”
He couldn’t hide his bewildered look.
“That’s sick Dad!”
“No son, that’s love.”
Stanley walked over and stroked her cheek.
“Num-Num.”
It pained Henry’s ears to hear his mother say that.
If he hadn’t been certain before, he was now: Guthrie was his least favorite place in the world. His mother, Linda, wasn’t home in West Virginia when the zombie outbreak came. She was at a teaching seminar in Houston, Texas. She had been one among tens of thousands of victims. It was a miracle when they found her days before her scheduled cremation. They had no idea where to look after months of searching. A news camera, of all the dumb luck, caught her face on the evening news at a controversial location in North Dakota. Stanley fought like a man possessed to get her back, but it was Henry who called in a favor, to Nate McDaniel.
Henry’s irritation returned.
“Is that why Jimmy is back? If Mom dies, is he going to be a pall bearer?”
His palms and fingers fanned out, beckoning for an answer. His mom gave up on his brother long ago, but Stanley just never understood. Stanley gave Jimmy too many second chances.
Stanley shrugged and moved away from the argument, saying “He’s family. He should have a chance to say good-bye. I never got that chance with my mom or dad. You don’t understand. Just let it be; it will be over soon.”
The sad look in Stanley’s eyes told the rest. Henry watched Stanley give his mother a kiss on the cheek.
Stanley changed gears and said, “Are you and Tori still getting on well? She’s a fine looking lady. She reminds me of your mother.”
Not this again. Please not this again. It was too late, as Stanley had begun the story of how he met his mother. Meanwhile, his mother walked away, bumping over and over again into a book case.
“I remember the first time I saw your mother. It was my first day as the assistant basketball coach at the middle school. Linda was coaching the cheerleaders. I never saw hair like that on a woman before ...”
“Hey Stan—” but Henry knew it was too late to stop him from talking.
“… I was down, and so was she. Your dad had just left her and you two boys. He went to Vegas to be a comedian, and lucky for me, he never made it back.”
Henry buried his hands in his face. Telling the story kept Stanley from the reality he couldn’t handle. Henry let his stepfather go on, knowing Stanley wouldn’t stop now anyway. Please don’t talk about the honeymoon.
“… Both my knees were shot from college ball, but Linda talked me into trying some classes. I told her if she went out with me, I would take classes. I loved playing ball, but if I’d never blown my legs out, I never would have realized what I could do.”
Stanley tapped his head with his long finger.
“I ended up with a scholarship — in biology,” Stanley said with a wry smile. “Man, a scholarship in basketball and biology. My mom would’ve died if she ever new. I’d almost forgotten how much I liked science when I was a boy. Mom bought me my first chemistry set.”
Henry could recount the story word for word if he had to. Still he played along, mindful of his mother lumbering through the lab. It took about fifteen minutes of intermittent nods and ‘uh-huh’s’ before Stanley finished. The big man sat down at a metal desk chair and rubbed his knees as he watched his zombie wife. The exhausted expression on Stanley’s round face stirred sympathy in Henry’s chest.
Henry hated to say it, but he felt compelled.
“You can’t bring back the dead, Dad.”
Stanley’s voice was solemn when he said, “Christ did.”
“Yes, but he was God.”
“The apostles did.”
Stanley flicked a long ash on the floor.
“Dad,” his voice was soft as he patted his stepfather’s big shoulders, “you have to let this go. You look tired. How long has it been since you ate?”
“I’m okay. It’s only been a few hours. Tori always brings me something down.”
There was long moment of silence between the two as the exhaust fans kicked off. Only the sound of Linda’s shuffling feet remained.
“Okay. Let’s go back to Jimmy and the XT Serum. Jimmy has to go—now! Remember the last time? Do you remember what my sick brother did to Jill and Jean?” he said, making a frantic motion towards the zombie twins strapped to the tables.
Jimmy did disturbing things to the girls, things Henry couldn’t bring himself to speak of. Jimmy was a self-absorbed little minion who’d do anything for a laugh or a thrill. No one ever understood Jimmy’s sick sense of humor.
His father was nodding; his face was in his hands saying, “I know, I know,” Stanley whispered, “… I’ll ask him to leave tomorrow.”
“Try now! Or I’ll do it.”
“You can do it.”
Some satisfaction filled him up. Getting rid of Jimmy would be the very next thing Henry would do.
“Now, what is going on with Louie upstairs? Is that the XT Serum?”
Stanley nodded, “I knew I should have waited.”
Life started to fill Stanley’s voice as he sat up.
“Take a look at this.”
Stanley got up with a heavy groan and headed over to a computer screen.
Henry followed him and saw MRI head scans on the flat screens. One was cold: black, blue and gray. The other screen had flares of orange, green and red above the brain stem. He studied the data on the screen.
“This was three days ago?”
His stepfather was nodding.
“Who … Jill and Jean?”
Stanley pointed and said, “This one is Jean.”
“But I thought they were dying.”
“Well, as such, I thought they would be better subjects. I did both. Same results.”
It was significant. Brain activity on a zombie was almost non-existent, but here there was something. As a scientist, Henry couldn’t control his excitement. This was a big deal. All of these years in the facility had been spent dealing with children. Their brains were more apt to learn and absorb information. They relied more on instincts and had a stronger survival mode. Zombie children reacted to stimulus more often than adults. Their minds hadn’t been polluted and their brain cells were still an incubator of growth. The zombie children shed the most light for hope of a cure.
“So how come they are still dying?” he asked with avid curiosity.
“There is only so much XT, and it was a small dose at that. It lasted a day. The girls … began walking again.”
He pulled on his dad’s shoulder and said, “Does anyone else know?”
“Nah, I kept them down here.” Stanley’s smile widened. “Think about it Son, with this breakthrough we can get back our funding. Maybe get a huge promotion.”
“What about Louie? Is he on it?”
“One dose, every other day. Look at his brain pattern.”
Stanley toggled between the screens and opened another file. One fourth of the subject’s brain above the lower stem was a rainbow of color.
“Wow!”
They clasped each other’s shoulders. Things were getting better.
But someone else did know. The cameras above had caught it all. He had been watching all along. Jimmy knew everything and a gold mine would soon be his.
CHAPTER 15
Her tummy grumbled as she entered the break room. All of the excitement from Henry’s return flustered her. Bathed in the white refrigerator light, Tori rummaged through the shelves. Pulling out a box of pizza, she grabbed a roll of paper towels from the break room counter top. Opening the box she let out a disappointing moan. Hawaiian? ...Oh, there’s a piece of sausage. She stuffed it in her mouth, chewing with a shrug. What the heck.
“Girl's got to eat,” she muttered, placing three slices on a plate inside the microwave and hitting the PIZZA button. As happy as she was that Henry was back, she felt blue. So much had happened while he was gone, and she hadn’t told him. Rudy and Stanley told her it would ruin his trip, but not telling him seemed to have ruined it all anyway. She wished she could have just gone with him on the cruise, something she had never taken before. Oh, what she would do for him on the open sea. His kind eyes and handsome face soothed her soul like no other man; even his serious demeanor didn’t dissuade her efforts.
“Henry needs us girls,” she said, hoisting her bra straps as she produced a jar of nail polish.
She checked her teeth on the rectangular mirror she had taped inside of a cabinet door and shot herself a wink. She pulled out a chair, took a seat and began re-painting her long black nails. She had just finished applying the last coat when the microwave chimed. She got up, took out the steaming pizza and tossed it onto the table. The strong smell of the pizza caused her stomach to groan again.
The room was quiet as she turned her back to the doorway and reached back inside the fridge. She felt eyes were burning on her lower back. Someone was there. She looked back over her shoulder hoping to see Henry, but only a black television monitor greeted her concerned glare. Back inside the fridge, two liters of leftover birthday soda were all she had to choose from. The one that read ‘diet’ got the honor. She froze before she pulled the bottle free. Her nerves were on edge, and all she could hear was the refrigerator’s hum.
“Who’s there!” she yelled, turning with the bottle held before her like a club.
The room was empty. Her made up eyes darted back and forth. She stepped into the doorway and peeked outside into the main office. The cubicles and office were dark, where the overhead fluorescent lights were only on in part. She liked the dark, but not today. Along the outside of the break room, she began flipping on more switches, and the office became as bright as could be.
Sighing, she sat back down and said, “That’s better.”
Eating her pizza she checked out a copy of USA Magazine. Nate McDaniel was on the cover, and she wondered if she would get to meet him. Henry had told her a few interesting things about him. She found that man fascinating, but not as good looking as she hoped. Coughing on a big bite of pizza, she took several big drinks of the soda.
“Damn!” Still coughing as she went to the sink, she began drinking from the spigot. Something was stuck in her windpipe and she was hacking hard. It flustered her, but she got it washed down.
“Whew, that was scary.”
She felt a pair of hands on her hips.
“Ah Henry, my hero, you came to save the day.”
Turning to face him, she recoiled in horror, shoving Jimmy’s leering face away.
“Son of a bitch!”
She rounded the other side of the table. Men had pawed at her since she was thirteen, and she had learned to handle them, but this man gave her the willies.
“Ah come on Tori, it ain’t like you don’t want me,” he said, followed by a heavy sniff. “Remember that time we went to the movies?”
The ball cap was twisted on his head, half covering his long grubby hair. She could see the dandruff flakes on the shoulders of his sports jersey. He looked her up and down, brown eyes wild with lust. The strong odor of alcohol mixed with sweat replaced her hunger with nausea. Jimmy’s face had turned from good-looking, like his brother; to an unkempt miscreant no one wanted to know. Long ago, she had gone to the movies with him in school and she had been naughty. Now, she felt like all of those sins had caught up with her. Her knees were locked as he made his way between her and the door.
“Go away Jimmy,” she managed to let it out. “That was a long time ago. I don’t even remember it.” She did remember it however, now it came back to haunt her.
“Well I sure do,” he said on his approach.
He reached out and grabbed her cheeks in one big hand and squeezed them. She couldn’t believe she wasn’t moving. Some strange power kept her still. Something kept her near, something dangerous. His breath was on her neck and she felt him inhale her. He was like a snake when he whispered in her ear.
“Henry ain’t got nothing on me girlie, and you know it.”
Something inside her snapped. Her weakened will turned to iron as anger replaced her weakness. She launched her knee into his crotch. He groaned aloud as he sank to the floor, cursing.
“You bitch! You bitch! You bitch!”
She didn’t hear a word as she ran away as fast as her legs would go. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she entered the elevator. She felt exposed and worthless. She couldn’t tell Henry; he wouldn’t understand. She just had to keep it inside and pray Jimmy left soon. Or died.
She wanted out of this place, but didn’t know where to go. The elevator opened into the parking garage and she ran for her car, shutting herself inside, hoping no one would miss her. It was a long time before she settled down. She was crying so loud that she almost didn’t hear the elevator open. She crouched deeper into the backseat of her car and buried her head. She heard footsteps shuffling over the gravel close by, and she couldn’t remember if she had locked the door.
CHAPTER 16
He saw colors and heard sounds that were familiar. There were shapes and people, some moving and others not. Everything was new whenever he opened his eyes.
A hunger and curiosity burned inside, but he didn’t know what that was. Confusion and fear overwhelmed his senses, but it was all normal as far as he could comprehend.
A soft wall barricaded his path somewhere else. He moved along its side, tripping over plastic objects he didn’t know were there. He fell, got up, and fell again. He didn’t remember how many times he had done this. He didn’t remember how many times he did anything. Things would go black and turn to color again. Every place he awoke was in different shades. Yellow, blue and gray surfaces coated his eyes.
Something sharp jabbed into him, but he felt no pain. More of those familiar looking things stared down on him. There were balls of many colors, filled with lines, triangles, circles and other shapes. Deep inside he felt he knew them, but most times they scared him.
Abandonment, loneliness and despair were emotions he did not remember. Flashes of other figures intermingled with his thoughts. He smelled things that made him hunger and his mouth watered. His bleak existence had no meaning, not to him. He traveled up something and slipped down it. A thrilling sensation overcame him. He wanted that again, but didn’t know how. Something smacked him in the head. He saw it, round and red. He picked it up and said, “Numma-numma.”
CHAPTER 17
She was still there, lying like a baby sheep in a meadow. The plush mattress cushioned her curled up figure, snuggled in Nate McDaniel’s silken sheets. No sound, no matter how abrupt he made it, stirred her excellent figure. She was exhausted, but not from him, as he would like to think, rather her demanding job with the media. He sat at her side admiring the woman he had just scored. Being the most famous man in the world had its advantages, all of which he knew he was not worthy of. Sighing, he covered up her naked figure, got up and walked stiff legged out of the bedroom.
Shaking his head he said, “I hate it when this happens.”
She’s still here. He couldn’t stand that. She was one of those kinds that wanted to hang around, pick his brain or have a nice dinner in town. More press, more pictures, maybe a wedding … he understood the road she was on. He’d been trying to get off the celebrity highway for years, but it wasn’t possible.