Aqua zombie, p.1
Aqua Zombie, page 1
Aqua Zombie
by David Wood
Aqua Zombie by David Wood
Copyright 2012, 2013
Published by Gryphonwoood Press at Smashwords
This story is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please visit Smashwords and purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Books by David Wood
The Dane Maddock Adventures
Dourado
Cibola
Quest
Icefall
Buccaneer
Atlantis (forthcoming)
Dane and Bones Origins
Freedom (with Sean Sweeney)
Stand-Alone Works
Into the Woods (with David S. Wood)
Dark Rite (with Alan Baxter)
Callsign: Queen (with Jeremy Robinson)
The Zombie-Driven Life
The Dunn Kelly Mysteries (Young Adult)
You Suck
Bite Me (forthcoming)
Writing as David Debord
The Silver Serpent
Keeper of the Mists
The Gates of Iron (forthcoming)
Short Stories
Balance
Aqua Zombie
Aqua Zombie
The town is a wasteland. All along the main street, storefronts, their windows smashed by looters, leer at me in a gap-toothed grin, though there’s nothing funny that I can see. I don’t even see any buggers around. This place is wiped.
An overturned tractor-trailer bars the way, so I turn onto a side street and cruise along between twin lines of stately oaks. The street empties onto a town square surrounding what was probably a well-manicured green back in the days before the bug. A statue of some long-forgotten war hero stands proudly at its center, gazing impassively on this world he fought to protect. Nice work, buddy.
All along the square are the remnants of city life. Government buildings, a museum, and two churches, one Methodist and one Baptist, their disproportionately tall steeples suggesting some Tower of Babel-style competition back in the days when such things seemed important. Both churches have been smashed up and sprayed with graffiti. I’ve seen this in every town I’ve visited. When the bug took firm hold, it didn’t take people long to realize God was sitting this one out, and all the prayers in the world wouldn’t save them. Needless to say, they didn’t take it well. Personally, I don’t know why they were so surprised. We were still waiting for that cure for cancer when the point was rendered moot.
I’ve almost completed my circuit around the square when I see the first sign of life. A huge, circular brick building looms in front of me. Twenty feet above street level is a row of portal-like windows , each a good ten feet in diameter or more. Another twenty feet up is a similar ring of smaller windows. It’s through one of these that I see a light. It’s not the flicker of a candle, though even that would be a sign of life, but the strong, regular glow of a fluorescent light. I take a closer look at the building and realize it’s the city aquarium.
I have bad memories of the aquarium in my home town. We were on a class trip when a couple of football players decided to drop me in the shark tank. They carried me up a staircase marked “Employees Only,” managed to get themselves lost, then dumped me and ran. Long story short, they got away, I got caught and suspended from school. This is one of the many examples of the bug’s silver lining. All the douchebags from my former life are dead. Or living dead.
I pull up onto the sidewalk, cut the engine, and look around. Though it appears that the buggers have abandoned this place, you never really know for certain. I give it a few minutes to see if anything comes shambling down the street. My 1978 Oldsmobile Omega isn’t the quietest ride around, so you never know when a bugger might come to investigate the sound.
Clipped to my visor is an index card with a drawing of two stick figures embracing, with a big heart at the top. My friend Katy drew it for me. She’s not exactly my girlfriend, but I think we’re getting there. She wanted me to have a picture of the two of us to take with me when I’m out on my… whatever you call these trips I make in search of survivors. Anyway, we couldn’t exactly go to nearest mall and climb into a photo booth, so she made do with what she had. The stick figures have big, round heads. The Katy figure has long hair, and feminine lips. And boobs. The one that’s supposed to be me has no distinguishing features except a wavy line where the mouth should be. Katy says I grimace too much, and she’ll draw a new picture when I learn to smile. Maybe some day.
Satisfied there are no buggers around, I grab a drawstring bag off the floorboard. It contains a few bottles of water, some peanuts and beef jerky, and a box of bullets.
My newest toy is a crossbow. I don’t know squat about it except it’s done up in a camouflage pattern and can put a bolt through a bugger’s skull without raising a racket. My friend Carl gave it to me. Carl’s sort of a redneckish guy who’s part of the community living inside a converted jail that’s become my base of operations and Katy’s home. It’s weird that he and I are friends since the first we met he wanted to turn my head into a twist-off bottle cap. We’re cool, now. He’s taught me a lot about shooting and survival stuff that had no place in my suburban upbringing. He tried to teach me to shoot a bow and arrow, but I sucked at it. The crossbow’s cool, though I wear a pistol and a knife on my belt— just in case.
I begin a slow circuit of the building, my eyes on the second-floor window where the light still shines. I haven’t made it thirty yards when I see a figure moving near the window. Despite my poor vantage point, I can tell immediately it’s not a bugger. I’m tempted to call out but, just because the buggers are nowhere to be seen doesn’t mean they aren’t within earshot. I can still see a shadow moving about, so I haven’t missed my chance.
I consider firing my crossbow at the window and then immediately curse myself for a fool. Yeah, fire a crossbow bolt through somebody’s window and then ask if you can come inside. Brilliant.
I grab a handful of rocks and take aim. Like most guys who spent more time handling a bassoon than a baseball, I throw like a girl. No, that’s not true. I know a lot of girls who can throw better than me. My first try falls a good five feet short. I overcompensate on the second try and pitch the rock up onto the roof. I’m about ready to reconsider my crossbow idea when my third shot strikes the window with a loud crack and bounces off. Some sort of protective glass, I suppose.
Immediately, a figure appears in the window. It’s a guy a few years older than me. He’s got shaggy, blonde hair and a chin that’s just a little bit too big for his face. Surprise registers on his face when he spots me.
“Can I come in?” I yell, though I doubt he can hear me. I ask again, and point first at my chest, then to the building in what is probably the world’s lamest attempt at sign language.
He holds his hands palms-up in the universal symbol for, “Can’t help you, dude.”
Conjuring up memories of my freshman year, when I called every girl in my class in a failed attempt to get a date for Homecoming and win a bet with my friends, I paint an expression of pathetic desperation across my face and try my sign language again. He shrugs and shakes his head.
Now I’m getting annoyed. I’m here to find survivors and let them know we’ve got people working on a cure for the bug, and this idiot is blowing me off. I’m trying to decide whether I should just shoot him and head back to the base when the wind shifts and I catch whiff of fetid air just before a chorus of low moans sends a chill down my spine.
The buggers have arrived.
I turn to make a break for my car but it’s already surrounded and there are too many of them for me to shoot my way through. Time to run.
I take off along the sidewalk that rings the aquarium. I hurdle a few fallen limbs and decaying body parts along the way, but that’s all right with me. Anything that slows the buggers, even for a few seconds, helps. I consider slowing my pace and letting the buggers close the gap. If I can get them to follow me, I’ll just play Ring Around the Aquarium, hop in my car, and get up out of here. This plan has barely crystallized in my mind before it shatters at the sight of a second wave of buggers blocking my path. A high brick wall surmounted by wrought-iron spikes has us hemmed in. I’ve got nowhere to go.
I scan the aquarium in desperation, wondering if I can get enough of a toehold between the bricks to climb up to a window ledge when a loud, metallic scraping makes me jump out of my skin.
“Not up there. Down here,” an invisible voice says.
The speaker is a kid a couple of years younger than me. He’s got huge, puffy hair and big eyes that seem to shine against his dark skin. He’s pushed aside a metal grate, revealing some sort of ventilation shaft, and beckons me inside.
Wasting no time, I slide in, wondering too late how far the drop might be and if I should have checked for handholds to climb down. Thankfully, it’s only about a six foot fall and, though I land hard, I don’t do myself any injury. Up above, the guy slides the grate back into place. The grate’s been modified so it can be secured with two padlocks, which he clicks into place before turning and pushing me along a dark passageway. Two locked doors and one la
“Doctor Pepper!” I marvel as my eyes fall on a case of canned soft drinks.
“Take one.” The kid offers me a can, sees my hesitation, and pops the top. A wave of nostalgia passes through me at the click and hiss as the carbonation releases and the familiar scent fills my nostrils. The drink is warm and sweet, and I drink half of it in two giant gulps and let out belch that the buggers can probably hear outside.
“Nice one. I’m Jaden.”
“Kenan.” I have a drink in one hand and a crossbow in the other, so I don’t offer to shake hands, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “How did you manage to get to me so fast? That dude only saw me about thirty seconds before the buggers came after me.”
“Who? Gage?” He opens a drink for himself and takes a swig.
“Blond hair, doesn’t give a crap about people who are about to get mauled.”
“Yeah, that’s him. I didn’t know he saw you. I had just made a run and was coming back in when you came running around the corner. Good timing.” He shrugs and takes another drink.
“So the pack of buggers I ran headlong into had been following you?”
He nods, then purses his lips. He narrows his eyes and looks at the floor.
“We’d better go talk to Gage. He’s not going to be happy.”
I’m not too happy with Gage, either, but I’m the new guy here, so I keep my mouth shut and follow behind.
Gage sits in a small office on the top floor. His feet are propped up on a metal desk and he holds a speargun in his lap. He’s a little bit older than I first thought— early twenties, maybe. He doesn’t look at us, but stares through the tinted glass interior wall down onto a stingray tank, where a dozen of the graceful, gray creatures float about, almost like they are flying. I’m surprised they’ve managed to keep things going in the aquarium, but I don’t comment. I’m still thinking about the speargun and wondering what Gage might try. Of course, I’ve got a pistol on my hip and a crossbow in my hand, and I’m a stranger, so I can’t blame him if he feels threatened.
As a show of good faith, I lay my crossbow on a nearby table. No one is speaking, so I turn and gaze at the stingrays. I’m in no hurry. This place is obviously secure and bugger-free, so I’m content for the moment.
“We’ve kept as many of the fish alive as we can,” Jaden says. “We’ve focused on the smaller ones. The big ones eat so much, and we don’t have much feed left, so it just wasn’t practical to keep feeding them.” He shakes his head. “We hated to let them go.”
“Life is full of hard decisions.” Gage has finally broken his silence. He turns to me, his blue eyes frigid. “Such as, how to deal with intruders.”
I suppose this is supposed to scare me, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten pretty fast on the draw with my pistol. Maybe it’s because I spend my days traveling through bugger-infested areas. When you come face-to-face with your own mortality on a daily basis, it takes a lot to scare you. Now it’s my turn to remain silent. I raise an eyebrow and wait.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now.” His gaze is still hard but there’s no resolve in his words. He isn’t going to kill me. What he wants is for me to give him a reason I can be trusted, to give him an excuse to put down his weapon and still save face in front of Jaden.
Problem is, I don’t deal with threats and intimidation very well. Back in the days before the bug, I put up with bullies. I don’t have to do that any more.
“Two reasons. If you don’t get me through the eye with that speargun, and you won’t, I’ll have all the time I need to put a few bullets in your gut. You’ll die slowly, and in more agony than you ever imagined possible.” He blanches and my anger dissolves. “The other reason, the better one, is I’ve got something for you.”
“And what is that?” His entire body is piano-wire tense. I suppose he’s expecting me to throw out some cheesy movie line, like, “A can of whoop-ass!” and start blazing away.
I smile and, slowly, settle into a folding chair.
“Hope.”
“What do you mean?” His grip on the speargun relaxes and he leans forward just a bit.
I’ve done this a few times, so I’ve distilled my story to the crucial parts. I tell him that I recovered a serum that will stop a bitten person from turning, and that people are working day and night to replicate it.
“So, I’m trying to find everyone who’s still alive and let them know there’s a chance for us to beat the bug,” I finish.
“This serum,” Gage says, “can it turn people back?”
“No.” We’d tried it on a freshly-turned bugger to no avail. We hated to waste a vial of the precious serum, but the scientists in our group felt they had to know. “It’s more like an antibiotic that fights the infection. When someone turns, they aren’t really alive any more. There’s no coming back from death.”
Gage looks like a deflating balloon. His shoulders sag and his chin drops to his chest.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“It’s cool.” He gazes at his hands folded in his lap, turning them over like he’s never seen them before. “I just hoped…”
“We all lost a lot of people.” Jaden looks nervous. “It would have been nice to bring them back.”
I nod because it doesn’t seem like the time to point out that the last thing you’d want to do is bring back a bugger whose body falls apart little by little, day by day. I think of Coach Spurgeon, the head football coach at my high school and all-around jerk. I’d seen him shuffle down the street one day. He’d lost both his arms from the elbow down and his lower jaw had been torn off. I imagine turning him back, and telling him, “Let’s see you blow that whistle in my ear now, asshat!” I want to smile at the thought, but Gage is visibly upset. I clear my throat.
“Anyway, you guys are welcome to come back with me, if you like. We’ve got plenty of room, a small farming operation, and it’s secure. We’ve even been working to expand our safe zone, pushing the buggers back and working on ways to keep them out. It’s a good place.” I realize I feel better about the jail that I now call home than I ever did about my own home before the bug.
“We can’t leave, we’ve got the show,” Jaden says. “Besides, we’ve got lots of supplies, electricity, running water, and we have to take care of…” He freezes in mid sentence, staring at Gage. “Take care of the fish and stuff.”
“How do you guys manage electricity and water?” I wonder about the meaning behind the look he threw Gage’s way, but I suspect that information is not meant for me.
“Emergency systems. Solar panels for electricity and a well with an electric pump. As long as we’re careful, we have everything we need. We’ve got to stay.” Jaden looks at Gage, who rests his chin in his hands.
“We’ll think about it,” Gage says, but I can tell by the expression on his face what his answer will be. He looks up at Jaden. “Make sure our guest is comfortable. We’ll talk in the morning.” He swivels around in his chair, turning his back on us.
The conversation at an end, I’m about to ask Jaden about the “show” he mentioned when a girl bounces into the room. Save for her braided hair and curvy hips, she’s practically Jaden’s twin.
“Jaden, it’s time for the show. Oh, hi.” She smiles at me, seemingly unsurprised to see a stranger in their midst.
“Hey, I’m Kenan.”
“I’m Jazmine.” She turns to Gage. “It’s show time. You coming?”
“The new guy can do it.” Gage doesn’t turn around. “I’m busy.”
“Whatever. Come on, new guy.” Jazmine takes my hand and I just manage to grab my crossbow with the other before she leads me out of the room. She and Jaden begin talking so fast that I can’t keep up with the flow of the conversation. I hear something about M&Ms and Lil Wayne, and then we’re descending a pitch black staircase. “Take it slow,” Jazmine says.
“We only run the lights in a few places.” Jaden’s voice comes out of the darkness. “Saves energy. Just don’t break a leg.”
