I manage to squeeze off two shots – one in his thy – before he shoots again in the dirt in front of me, missing me as he stumbles. He doesn’t go down though, and I’m momentarily stunned by his fortitude. He screams and lunges towards me, raising his weapon.
As he steps forward on his damaged leg, I realize that this guy isn’t going to go down easily – and squeeze the trigger two more times. Both shots hit him in the chest, and he collapses. The whole exchange took only a few seconds.
I’m shaken up, and walk towards him. I kick his gun away and start to look him over. As I stand over him, the office door behind me crashes open – slammed open by the shouter.
I turn around to see him heaving a large fire axe over his head, heading in my direction. I barely have time to register what’s happening – and he is practically on me already. This is going to end badly – for me.
Bang! He collapses in a heap. Dana had shot him in the forehead with one shot.
I take a deep breath, and scan around me for more crazies. “Not bad, for a paralegal,” I gasp. “Are you conserving ammo or something? You were pretty confident that you had him in one shot.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” She smirks at me. “I had the door lined up for trouble since you walked over there.”
She winks and continues. “Besides, I was shooting gophers on my granddad’s farm since before I could drive.”
“Yeah, ok.” A likely story – axe-carrying gophers. This lady has more to her than she is letting on. Even as a zombie she is way too cool with all of the shooting and axe murderers running around. I’m emotionally exhausted and it isn’t even ten yet.
Jake and Mac are now inside the warehouse, and they call over. “Are you both ok?”
“Yes,” I reply back, “two perps down. But it’s not clear yet – keep your guard up.”
We call it in, and look through each of the rooms for more trouble. There are no more people around, but we do find one office area with some containers and boxes.
Dana was checking out my friend with the axe, and commented to me, “I think the shooter was a zombie. Did you see how he kept going after he was shot?”
“Yeah, and they were both kids too – neither of them seems more than 25.” I search their pockets for anything helpful. “No ID on them, but they look like kids.”
While Dana glances away I palm the cash the shooter is carrying; a couple hundred bucks. Not bad. I’m pretty sure Dana didn’t see me. It would be ok if she did though – you have to start these new cops while they are just getting started. Besides, I’m confident I can successfully rationalize my behavior to a level five zombie cop – I’ve done it before.
“That’s at least two young zombies in one day,” Dana exclaims. “That’s very unusual.”
“If your boyfriend outside is actually a zombie. I’m still not convinced. This one doesn’t have the mark, either. Is the kid still outside?”
Dana shakes her head no, “none of the kids are still around. And not all zombies wear the mark.” She looks at the tattoo around her right wrist, twisting her arm to see all of it.
We both walk back into the office, where Mac and Jake are going through the boxes and containers, and checking the area for more evidence.
“We’ve got what looks like traces of cocaine on the tables. Someone cleaned up, but they were in a hurry,” Jake looks confused as he speaks.
“So what’s bothering you?” Dana asks.
“These two boxes over here – they don’t contain any street drugs we recognize. They contain potassium chloride.”
“Okay, what’s that used for?” I ask.
“We’re not sure. It sounds familiar, but it isn’t used to make ecstasy, speedballs, or even meth.”
Jake would know. He joined the IAB from the narcotics bureau before he turned.
“I know what it’s for,” Dana explains, in a hushed, serious voice. “We have a big problem,” she pauses again, thinking. “Potassium chloride is used to stop the heart. For lethal injections and cardiac surgery.”
We all stare at her. She clearly has more to say.
She looks into my eyes with a serious expression on her face. “These bad guys aren’t just making drugs. They’re making zombies.”
Chapter Two – Education
Tuesday, June 22
It seems like Dana is right, someone is making zombies.
We had a full day yesterday, investigating the scene, looking for the nearby kids (we wanted to confirm if any of them were zombies), and getting any extra information we could behind the shipment and vehicles.
The two killed at the scene both tested as infected. The coroner couldn’t say for sure, but she had a strong hunch she can see the effects of minor brain injuries consistent with turning. She is going to call us back today.
Oh, and she mentioned that they seemed to be low twenties in age. I’m glad we didn’t have to pop a couple of teenagers.
Today we are going to follow up on our biggest lead generated yesterday.
It is Tuesday morning, which means that Dana is in Zombie school, and I have my weekly psych session since Steve’s death.
My dad, the recently retired Deputy Chief of Police Dan Stack, created and presided over the original Infected Affairs Bureau in Seattle. His model for commanding and managing zombie cops has been studied and used in dozens of other police departments around North America and the world.
Although he’s retired now, and has been for the past 18 months or so, he spends a great deal of time travelling and consulting to police and security agencies on zombie leadership.
Dad actually worked with that Canadian scientist who created the zombies – the scientist who studied and became an expert in zombie behaviors while looking for a cure. He designed the Zachman profile for measuring zombie aptitude. My dad built on Dr. Zachman’s expertise to come up with “Zombie school”, which includes the weekly love-in that Dana was attending right now.
Human cops don’t attend the ‘Inspiration Session’ (Dad hates when people call it Zombie school – though all cops do), but I can tell you basically how it goes. There are five key steps in every inspiration session. They do all five, in order, every time. Zombies like the repetition, and they are suspicious of change.
One: Feed the Pack. A breakfast buffet is provided – lots of protein and meat. If you feed a zombie, they will love you forever. Or at least until they go hungry again. Feed a zombie regularly, and they won’t forget it.
Snack-sized protein bars are made available – everyone grabs handfuls and puts them in their bag and pockets for the day. Good cop propaganda in words and images appear on each one, with statements like ‘Protect the Weak’ (that’s us humans) and ‘Honor the Pack’. Pictures of local political leaders, the Chief of Police, and other members of the command staff appear occasionally with an inspirational quote about zombies or cops.
Two: Pack Identity. You want zombies to strongly identify with being a cop – so when they meet other cops, they work together within minimal friction. First, they are part of the team of all cops world-wide. Second, they are part of a team of cops in their area (like Seattle). And finally, they are zombie cops, which make them better and stronger than everyone else. They really play this up.
Three: Personal Pride. It turns out that pride isn’t actually an emotion like most people would think – and tapping into zombie pride is a really powerful motivator. Apparently pride is instinctual in humans and animals – pride brings out the leaders in a group to help establish hierarchy. If I go kill that tiger, all of the women will like me, grunt. At this point in the session, they will call out the heroic actions of specific people in the group – the types of behaviors that they want to reinforce in other zombies. Zombies are encouraged to tell their stories of bravery to their captains at the end of the day, so they might get picked as examples for others.
Four: Pack Pride. Building on the pride theme, this part of the session will call out comparisons with other gro
ups that place the local pack in a favorable light. Perhaps statistics like perpetrators caught and humans saved, or examples of bad guys caught in the area through teamwork. Much work is put into finding or manipulating statistics that show the local bureau in a favorable light compared to other cities.
Five: Protect and Lead. Zombies are smart, and they do know good from bad, right from wrong. There are plenty of grey areas in policing however – providing examples of the best choices in morally ambiguous areas are helpful for keeping zombies from crossing the line. This section of the meeting includes a video collage of morally uplifting stories from other zombies, where they made the right choices in potentially uncertain circumstances. The crime stoppers video team records zombie hero stories almost every day, and police precincts share video clips. This small local team is dedicated to managing and publishing these videos on an internal social network, so that each week our zombies have a new, interesting video to watch that aggrandizes obedience and compliance with the rules. The local zombie personality that narrates these videos is a huge sensation with the zombies. Any time he comes around the zombies get loud, excited, and full of bravado.
Throughout the meeting there’s lots of humor and sarcasm, swearing, and noise. Yelling and banging on tables in response to local victories is encouraged.
It’s just like coaching a college football team.
I am not having nearly as much fun in my meeting. We are about ten minutes in, the pleasantries finally dealt with. Sometimes I prefer dialogs with zombies.
“Remind me doc, these sessions are private, right?” I look at the shrink, already knowing the answer, but delaying what I need to get off my chest a little longer.
“That’s right Rob, everything you say here is confidential and protected. What we discuss here can’t be used for disciplinary or legal action against you. I’m only here to help get you through this trauma, nothing else.” She is very relaxed and open. I feel safe here.
“I got my partner killed.”
* * *
“Alright you bunch of ingrates, settle down. Finish getting your food and take a seat Jake – everyone else here is waiting for you. What, you need a special invitation?” Captain Darryl O’Neill was a zombie cop with a military background, and it showed. The zombies loved it when he poked fun at them. They all banged on their tables, smiling at the put-down, while giving big Jake an extra hard time. Everyone had a full plate of food in front of them; they ate loudly and with minimal table manners while O’Neill talked.
“Today is Tuesday June 22 and we’ve got some exciting news for you cretins – listen up.”
The room grew quiet with anticipation. The beginning was generally the same each time, and they loved it.
“This has got to be the best crew of cops that I have ever worked with. We got cops in Hawaii, cops in New York, even cops way up in fucking Alaska. U.S. cops are great. I mean, really great. Stick ‘em in a room full of bad guys and they walk out unscathed, and the bad guys are down.
“I’ve worked with cops all around the world, and I’m proud to be an American cop. But the Seattle PD is incredible! I haven’t seen this kind of top-notch police work since I started working as a cop over ten years ago. You should be proud to work here.
“I became a zombie almost five years ago – one of the first v2 zombies, I’m proud to say. Now I’m the strongest I’ve ever been! At least half of you guys in here are stronger than me though. Seattle has got to be the toughest zombie department I’ve ever seen. You are unstoppable.”
He paused for a good amount of hooting, yelling, and stomping.
“And our unit keeps getting better. Check this out… you all met Dana this morning. She is piping hot death in a tiny package. She has been with the IAB for just one day, and she already popped her first bad guy!” The room rumbled in appreciation, but they knew more was coming in the story – it always did.
“This was no ordinary bad guy though. This was an axe-wielding maniac that was rushing to kill her human partner, who was distracted and almost out of bullets. Dana here takes out a moving, axe hauling target with one shot, right between the eyes.”
Everyone in the room was ferocious in their approval. If a human was in the room, they would be terrified for their own safety.
O’Neill waited for things to calm down, and then finished with Dana’s story, “I tell you, I’ve got a nickname for you Dana – way sooner than usual for a newbie. I’m going to call you ‘Bullseye’.” The zombies burst in applause. Zombies were punching Dana in the arm, and patting her on the back.
“Ok, our next incredible story is about our favorite hungry-man Jake here.” Laughter. “Jake was following up on a domestic case to see how a zombie/human couple was doing about a week after she was beaten by her husband. Routine visit – what could possibly go wrong?” The zombies laughed again in anticipation.
“He arrives to find them fighting and screaming at each other. She is flinging plates at him, and swearing like a pirate! It’s so loud he can hear it all from outside.” The zombies laughed and thumped their feet in anticipation. “Well, Jake here enters the premises unknown to the couple, sneaks up behind the zombie and puts him in a choke hold until he passes out.
“Then he evades a few flying plates – this crazy lady isn’t stopping! So he puts her in cuffs and on the sofa where she can calm down.” Laughter and whooping filled the room. “Neither one is seriously hurt, and the lady is kicking her brute husband out with help from social services before she gets hurt again. You saved a human life there Jake. Nicely done.” O’Neill paused dramatically, for full effect. “Who protects the humans?”
“Zombie cops!” everyone roared. The room was filled with clapping and the zombies near him were patting Jake on the back.
“All right! With these arrests and the great work the rest of you have been putting in, we just pulled ahead of those pansies in Tacoma in major crime arrests per capita.” Thundering filled the room. “Lately, they’ve got their hands full with small-time drug arrests – keeps them so busy they don’t have time for the important crimes that you all get to work on every day. The criminals are smart and tough in Seattle – so we have to be even smarter, and tougher.” Affirmative responses and yells.
An aide rolled over a large plasma TV.
“Ok, who here is ready to see the stories Eric Gunner has for us this week?” Applause and whistles filled the room.
After some brief, reassuring, heartfelt words from the Chief of Police about zombies on the force, followed by boilerplate Seattle police department graphics, Eric Gunner appeared on screen. Low rumbling filled the room in anticipation. His zombie eyes are light green, and his square jaw gives him a rugged, handsome look.
Eric started, “you know that Seattle cops are my favorite,” supportive yells came from the room, “that’s why I moved here from Montana. This week we’re going to hear from my old home state in our first story. Let’s take a look.”
Another zombie reporter, he could almost pass for Eric’s twin, appeared on the screen with a large, muscular, African-American cop in a cowboy hat. The cop’s right wrist has an infected bracelet tattoo around it, which matches the same one Dana and all of the other zombies in the room have.
Wearing the black mark of the infected is optional in the US, unless you work for the government or the healthcare industry. In some countries with fewer personal freedoms, the tattoo is mandatory for the infected.
Many zombies will add red tear symbols to the tattoo after they turn, proud of their recent heritage and unafraid to show it. Dana has three red tears, equidistant around her wrist.
“Bubba, you were just involved in a public demonstration that turned violent. Can you tell us a bit about what happened?”
Bubba spoke slowly with a southern accent, “well, we were called in to protect a group of international politicians in town, when some protesters got out of hand.” He licked his lips. “There was this guy that got in my face and was calling me all kinds of ha
teful names. He wanted me to let him pass the line, but we had to hold the line to keep the humans safe.
“He picks up this bottle and waves it around at me, swinging it near my head. He’s poking me with his fingers and hitting my chest with his fist. I don’t move the line.
“Then, out of nowhere, he throws the bottle at my partner and it breaks, knocking him out.” Sounds of shocked and appalled zombies fill the room in Seattle.
“That must have been terrible, Bubba. What did you do next?”
“Well, I remembered that we aren’t supposed to shoot protesters unless they pull a gun, so I grabbed the pepper spray from my belt and nailed him right in the face with it.” Murmurs of approval from the zombies in the room.
“He went down hard, but I could tell he was going to come up again in a moment, and he was mad. I grabbed a pair of plasticuffs and hog-tied his arms and legs behind him. He was rolling on his side and yelling, but he couldn’t do nothing to nobody anymore.”
The reporter asked, “did you give him a punch or a kick while he was down? Surely he deserved to pay for what he did to your partner. You can’t hit a police officer and get away with it!”
“No sir, I did not. He was down, that’s all I needed to do with him for the moment. Rather than waste more time on him, I got back to protecting the humans and holding the line.”
“Wise words, from a wise cop,” the reporter looked at the camera, then at Bubba. “Bubba, you are an inspiration to us all. Nice job showing professional leadership to all the zombie cops out there in this great nation of ours. Anything else you want to say?”
“Missoula PD rules ya zombies!” The Seattle zombies laughed and applauded anyway, jeering at Montana and making supportive statements about Seattle.
Between introductions and some FOX News-like commentary from Eric, the video continued to show two more stories from across the US, other examples of zombie cops doing their jobs and making the right choices.
The meeting ended shortly thereafter, with O’Neill warning everyone not to get on Dana’s bad side or, “their days on this great earth were numbered.” The zombies had a great laugh, playing it up, and Dana was in heaven.
* * *
Dana and I meet up at our cubicles, after our respective meetings.