Dead Man Running Page 27

  "Walk with me as I choose the humans for this afternoon's hunt," Wiley said.

  Wiley and Elias walked the outside of the pen. There were zombies inside and, as Wiley selected a human for the hunt, his men inside stunned and dragged away the 'game'. Most he selected were young and fit – the more challenging the better.

  As the process continued, word spread in the pen and most of the humans backed away from the fence, and quieted.

  The zombie minders quickly changed their strategy; they began to drag the likeliest humans to the fence for Wiley's inspection.

  They dragged a female to the fence. She was naked like the rest but wore a defiant expression. She was Latina, her face pretty under the grime of the pen.

  "You won't get away with this Wiley!"

  Wiley smiled. His eyes feasted on the woman's generous breasts, shapely legs leading to oversized hindquarters. His eyes lingered on the mound of dark hair between her legs.

  He finally looked up and met her fierce eyes. "Do you want to fuck me, Wiley? Is that what this is about? If so, let me out of here and I'll fuck your brains out."

  Wiley smiled – for a moment he entertained bringing her out of the pen for a quick poke. But, he had business to take care of.

  Wiley nodded at the zombies who each held an arm of the woman. They brought her closer.

  "No, my dear, I want to eat you. After I hunt you down like the vermin you are."

  The woman spat at Wiley, the spittle reaching his face.

  Wiley quickly wiped his face with a handkerchief.

  "Fuck you Wiley."

  "Oh, definitely," he said. He gave her body another wolfish onceover. "I will give you the opportunity to 'fuck my brains out'. If good enough I'll still kill you but you'll be reborn as the undead."

  "Never," she said.

  "I'm sorry dear, but you have no choice. Here and everywhere soon enough, I am God." He gave the signal and his zombies tasered the woman and she fell limp in their arms.

  "I think we have enough," Wiley said. The zombies in the pen took the woman away to be prepared with the rest – cleaned, dressed and outfitted with a hunting knife. What's a hunt unless the prey is somewhat dangerous?

  "You wanted to speak to me?" Elias prompted as Wiley approached the horse stalls.

  "I want to outline my plans before the board meeting. You play a prominent role Elias."

  The two leaned against the stall. Inside were the mounts for the hunt – a half dozen Alpaca's.

  "I have always felt like we were family, Elias. Having no children of my own I saw you as the son I never had."

  Elias patted Wiley's shoulder. "We are family, Ben."

  "Now that you are one of the undead it is time to let everyone know your place in the organization. The board will be told this morning that you are my second in command."

  "Thank you Ben. I won't let you down."

  "I will soon travel to China and I want you by my side. I will decapitate China's leaders, paving the way for Asia domination by our undead legions. On our way back home we will then go to Russia to personally place atomic zombie bombs on the private spacecraft heading to the International Space Station."

  "Are the bombs operational?"

  "That's the other reason for our chat. I am assigning you the lead in the zombie bomb project. It is nearing its field test. I need you to travel with the technical team to a series of islands off of Fiji."

  Elias smiled. "Does that team include Mira Hidar?"

  "Yes. You haven't seen her since your conversion?"

  "No, sir. I've followed your orders in that regard."

  "Excellent."

  "She will have an adverse reaction to my current state. What shall I do?"

  "Keep her on task. Let her know that the health of her grandfather, not to mention all the Hidar's, depends on her cooperation."

  "Do we still need her?"

  "She is there to assure that she has the proper mix of fluids in the bomb to convert nearly one hundred percent of the subjects."

  "And once we achieve that, what do I do with her?"

  Wiley barked out a hearty laugh. The horses paused their breakfast of oats, looked at the creatures, then back at their food.

  "Do with her what I will do with the feisty large breasted female we just met."

  Elias smiled. "Her death has no consequence?"

  "At this point, very little. Do as you please."

  "It will be my pleasure. I look forward to educating her on the abilities of the new Elias Turnbull."

  He smiled and the two shared a laugh as they walked back toward the farm house.

  TWENTY-NINE

  DALY CITY CALIFORNIA – AUGUST 2012

  Tamesha Holloway rarely left the home of her foster parents. She knew that the world was filling up with zombies and the less she ventured outside, the better. She carefully observed her new parents and thus far there were no signs that they had been made over as the undead.

  But it was summer vacation and her foster mother was interested in Tamesha getting some exercise and fresh air. So Tamesha would take off on her bike for long rides around Daly City. She ventured to out of the way locations, ones where she would have a lesser chance of encountering a zombie.

  This day she rode to Bancroft Park and its series of gentle walking paths leading to a beautiful overlook of San Francisco Bay. She had packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and sat next to her bike, eating and watching the life on the bay – seagulls and seals were the most visible although she could see schools of dolphins frolicking just below the surface. Would they become zombies too?

  Tamesha imagined herself jumping off the overlook into the Bay – there was only an easily scaled waist high fence preventing someone from jumping the several hundred feet into the cold Pacific waters.

  She thought about this hard. If she died, she would see Granny T again. If she survived, maybe the dolphins and seals would let her join them and she would be safe.

  She thought hard on this, so hard she did not hear the approach of another.

  Hank Bartholomew stood over Tamesha, yanking her thoughts away from the sea life, centering her back in her real life nightmare. "Hello, Tammy," he said.

  Tamesha gave one more, long look at the fence. She could probably make it over before he grabbed her.

  She looked up to his face. The sun was at his back and his head had an unlikely halo.

  "Hello Hank and don't call me Tammy. My name is Tamesha." He may kill her but at least she would die as Tamesha, not "Tammy".

  Hank sat on the grass next to her. He eyed her half eaten PB&J sandwich. "Peanut butter? How can you eat that stuff? It's totally unhealthy. I know all about the best food – food that will make you strong, smart and healthy, like me."

  "I have to go," she said and she stood.

  Hank placed a hand seemingly made of steel on her arm and easily pulled her back to the grass. "Please stay with me. I have something to talk to you about. I promise to call you Tamesha."

  Tamesha rubbed her arm where he had hurt her. She watched the seagulls for a moment then gave him her full attention.

  "Talk then," she said. She stopped rubbing her arm.

  The juvenile zombie smiled. "I have made all the arrangements. My parents are gone and I have the house to myself. I am ready to marry you."

  "I'm just a kid. I don't want to marry you or anyone else."

  "You will marry me. We'll live in my house and we'll have sex and make kids just like us. We'll be happy, you'll see."

  Tamesha thought of Granny T and the parents who had abandoned her for drugs years before. She prayed that Granny T was in Heaven and would be waiting for her when this was all over.

  "What happened to your parents Hank?"

  He smiled and rubbed his belly. "Gone," he said.

  "Really? I think I see them coming up the path."

  When the creature turned its head, Tamesha was on her feet. Two steps later she was at the fence and she had one leg on the other side whe
n she was grabbed by the neck

  "Do you want to die…..Tamesha?"

  The zombie's strength shocked Tamesha – how easily he was able to dangle her by the neck above the cliff. He easily climbed over the fence while holding her.

  They were now both on the wrong side of the fence, Hank Bartholomew with one hand on the steel fence, the other around her neck. Tamesha was having difficulty breathing – pretty soon it wouldn't matter if he dropped her or not.

  "I asked you a question. Do you want to die?"

  Tamesha no longer had to think about it – face to face with the Devil, the answer was clear.

  "Yes," she said.

  Hank Bartholomew smiled. With his prodigious strength he whipped her body over the fence and Tamesha was unconscious as her body slammed into the soil, hard packed from the thousands of feet that sought this majestic view.

  "Well, I won't let you. You are my destiny and I won't let you die until I'm ready."

  Wiley and Elias stood offstage as Canadian heartthrob Justin Bieber sang to help raise funds to re-elect the American president.

  They were in the Prudential Center in Newark New Jersey. The combo pep rally and fundraiser was nearly over. Wiley had been selected to close the event - to fire up the twenty thousand Obama supporters to give as much as they could in terms of their energy and personal finances in the coming months.

  Wiley would make sure that they would give, especially the swells in the luxury boxes. His undead minions had unleashed hundreds of zombie bombs, converting most of the high rollers in attendance. The hoi polloi were being converted by the dozens in their suites, in the rest rooms and in hastily roped off sections of the concourse.

  By this time, with Bieber winding up his so called performance, there were nearly a thousand new zombies in existence, all prepared to do whatever it takes to elect Obama and their true leader, Benjamin Wiley.

  Wiley and Elias watched as Bieber strutted about the faux candy factory stage with his 'let's pretend I have talent' talent.

  "We've made zombies out of a lot of stars but it doesn't work because we lose their heart and soul, what makes them great artists," said Wiley

  "What about this guy?" asked Elias. He thumbed pointed to the pop star.

  "Bieber? Are you listening to him? Of course we made him a zombie. But do you think anyone could tell the difference? Dude was as heartless and soulless as they come, even before his conversion. Now we use him to bring in the young girls." Wiley smacked his lips. "They make such lovely appetizers at our meetings."

  The pair watched Bieber croon. They bobbed their heads and tapped their feet, the two zombies keeping better rhythm than the performer on stage.

  "Did the general come through with the C-130?" Wiley asked.

  "Yes, sir. Thank you. I'm heading down to Dover tonight to oversee the loading of the equipment. We've been able to reassemble the Penn labs in the hold of that massive aircraft."

  "You are on target to leave day after tomorrow, of course?"

  "Of course. Ms. Hidar should join us tomorrow for the pre-mission walk through. The next morning we'll be on our way to Fiji."

  Wiley wagged his finger in Elias' face and smiled. "Remember, no funny business with Mira until you've proven the bomb as close to one hundred percent effective as possible."

  "I won't kill her Ben," Elias responded. A wide smile broke over his face. "I can't promise that nothing will happen. We are two consenting adults."

  "I don't care what you do with her pussy. Her brain is what I need for now."

  "I assure you, dear leader, I care about every inch of her and she will come to no harm." Wiley nodded and Elias took a couple steps away from the world's greatest being and stopped. He turned around and Wiley faced him.

  "I do look forward to it," he said.

  "What?"

  "Seeing her brain," Elias said and he fast walked past security and a large clot of celebrities and hangers on, finally emerging from the bright arena into the dark night.

  He took a deep breath, again mildly surprised because he no longer felt the air when it reached his lungs. For a millisecond he regretted the lack of sensation. He walked on.

  He found his limo and climbed in. He ordered his driver to make a detour on the path to Dover. They would exit off I95 about one hundred and twenty miles too soon – there was a friend in Philadelphia that Elias suddenly wanted to say hello to.

  Mira Hidar's breathing slowed and steadied as she approached her apartment building. She was on her cool down walk after running five miles in west Philadelphia. It was to be her last night of freedom – away from wall to wall zombies – and she wanted to make her time count. Waiting inside her home was some vegetarian spaghetti in the crock pot, a bottle of white zinfandel in the fridge, and the suddenly hot Mets, broadcast live and in color from the West Coast.

  She also had a half dozen reverse zombie bombs she had to complete, seeing as she was soon going to come face to face with the undead Elias Turnbull.

  She loved the man, whose skin the zombie version was wearing. The realization that she had denied loving this man until she lost him weighed heavily upon her.

  But she was a Hidar and, above all, Hidar's believed in magic and magic would return this man to her. Did he love her, too? She believed he did. Would that love survive his transformation and re-transformation to human? That, she did not know.

  The ways of romance were foreign to her since she had always rejected the concept. This time, it could not be escaped or denied. It had found her and its pain rode in her chest like a bad cold.

  As she opened her front door she immediately sensed something wrong. Her instinct said to flee but her brain told her that it didn't make a difference whether she ran or not. There was no escaping what lay inside her home.

  She stepped into the apartment and dropped her keys on the foyer table. She moved gingerly down the long hall that led into the living room. Her breath caught as she saw him and what he held.

  "Bringing your work home, lover?" Elias asked. He sat on her couch. At his feet were the reverse zombie bombs that were unfinished, all except one.

  The final one he juggled in his hand like a baseball.

  "Well?" he asked. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

  "You're one of them," she finally managed. Her tongue seemed thicker than normal. Her heart beat so hard she was convinced that the creature before her could hear it and see its exaggerated exertions.

  "I asked you a question. Why do you have these bombs?" He stood.

  Was he always so tall?

  Her feet were frozen in the carpet so he stepped in front of her. "Do you have an answer?"

  She did. She needed an excuse in case they checked her luggage and found the bombs.

  "There is about a three percent failure rate with the big bomb. We'll need to clean up any stragglers."

  He looked her in the eyes, his strong hand cupping her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his.

  "But why do you have these? Why not simply pack a supply of bombs for the 'clean up', as you so succinctly put it?"

  She snatched the bomb from mid air as he tossed it with his left hand, simultaneously jerking her face from his grip. "I think I can increase the yield, make them more efficient."

  "You're an engineer now, Mira?"

  "I'm a magician and, at their heart, these operate from magic, not science or engineering."

  Satisfied, he nodded once, then twice. As she stepped away from him, a strong arm reached out, slapped the bomb out of her hand and pulled her in close.

  Mira should not have been but she was still shocked at his speed and strength. Was he here to kill her? Was it all over, the resistance, humanity, the future of the world?

  "Gimme a kiss, love?" He pulled her close and put his cold lips on hers. He quickly pulled back.

  "We know you can do better than that," he said. His dead eyes searched her face. His free hand found her ass and squeezed roughly.

  "Fuck you," she said.

 
The creature smiled, let her go and took a step back. He eyed her, the cartoonish wolf checking out the pretty lamb. "Maybe later," he replied finally. He sat back down on the couch and patted the neighboring cushion.

  Mira kicked the stray bomb back with its brothers. She dragged a straight backed chair in from her kitchen and sat it near the couch.

  "Why are you here?" she asked.

  "To let you know that I plan to kill you."

  "Now?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "He says that we need you. He says that I have to wait until the trial is successfully completed."

  "Is that so? Are you his pet now, Elias? The man I knew….." She pulled the chair closer to the zombie and started again.

  "The man I loved was his own man. He was smart and strong and wanted to do the right thing."

  The zombie laughed. "Do the right thing? Elias and your grandfather started this whole mess." He laughed again. "So he wanted to do the right thing, huh? Why didn't he do the right thing in the first place and let the man stay dead? Why did your grandfather bring him back, and then give him the ability to murder billions and end humanity?" He laughed uncontrollably. When he finally quieted down, he spoke again.

  "Elias Turnbull was all about Elias Turnbull. He was simply trying to deal with his guilt. I know because his thoughts are still in here somewhere." He tapped his cranium.

  "And now you love him? Do you realize how hung up this guy was on you? He died not knowing that you loved him. You should feel real good about that, Mira."

  "You're here to mock me? Make me feel bad?"

  "I'm here to deliver a message. And that is: I'm watching you. I'll be examining everything that you do. I know what he knows." Here he tapped his head again. "He knows you are part of the resistance. As such, it is in your interest to sabotage this trial. I'm here to tell you that I'm not having it. This trial will be successful, and then you will be killed. By me." He smiled widely.

  "I may be able to extend your life span. For certain considerations." He again panned her body with lingering, ravenous eyes. "Maybe an apartment in Paris, at least until humanity is extinguished. Maybe I can swing conversion and a new identity known only to me. How does that sound?"