Netherstream - Episode 1: Jane Doe (3 page)

Margaret was unusually mellow that morning while I dressed her. Typically it was five-round MMA match where I had to fight her for every scrap of clothing. But every piece slipped on with ease that day. Once I had her fully clothed, I stood next to her and looked inside the cart. Shit. This could take awhile. I’ve seen zombies stare into the abyss for weeks.

Before I nudged her along, I spotted the blood. “Is that from you? Are you bleeding?” I looked at her nose. “Crap, is it me?” I rubbed the Band-Aid over my ear.

Suddenly a head popped out of the chute. “Aaargh!” the zombie moaned, but he was not one of ours.

“Funnckk?” Margaret pointed.

“Yeah, that’s a ‘What the fuck?’ moment if I ever saw one.” I pulled out my gun and fired.

The corpse fell into the laundry cart with a thud. I leaned over and put another in his skull just to be sure. I wasn’t worried about him biting me, but I couldn’t risk what he might do to Marge. She was still salvageable, I was sure of it. Me? Forget it.

“Thanks, Marge.” I turned and noticed the blood all over her uniform. “Well, at least we’re in Laundry.” I stripped her down and grabbed another uniform.

After changing Marge a second time, I grabbed the laundry cart and pushed it down the hallway, making my way to the loading dock at the other end. As we passed by the service elevators, one opened. Travis, an Irish-Mexican Room Service Server with a goatee, stared off into space, his next move escaping him. He leaned against a gray cart with an unlit hotbox underneath. A wooden tray sat atop with a small, white carnation, miniature salt and pepper shakers, a fork, knife and spoon tucked inside a folded napkin and an entrée covered by a stainless steel lid.

“Room 1313, Travis.
Thirteen-thirteen
,” I said before the steel doors shut.

We trekked to the other side of the building, each step more difficult than the next for my nervous zombie companion. Marge hated the loading dock, not for what it held, but for what it might eventually become.

I strolled through the rubber doors, leaving Marge behind. Bodies were stacked in the wells where trucks had parked to deliver their payloads. The garage had filled up fast, and already it was time to burn another mountain of corpses.

This time I’d be more careful about the alarms. During last summer’s barbeque, I triggered the emergency sprinklers and had trouble turning them off. Hell, I was a bellhop, not an engineer. I didn’t know jack shit about the inner workings of the hotel. It was all one giant pain in the ass, and I was still fuzzy about what I had done to bail myself out the last time.

Disease can spread quickly if one’s not careful. Isolating all of the dead bodies to one end of the hotel and reducing them to ash was the only way to ensure that I’d keep the cancer at bay. But the corpses kept piling up, and the bugs were getting bigger.

As long as my staff was reasonably clean, they were not a threat to me, and thrived upon the strange vermin that snuck into the guest rooms. Although both parties threatened to contaminate my dwindling supplies, the zombies enjoyed hunting down mutated rats and spiders and feasting upon their flesh. Hopefully their odd diet would not spark a change within them.

I dumped the body into the pit and sprayed the cart clean with a hose. I left it to dry and rejoined Marge by the security desk. My ear was throbbing like a bitch, but I knew that if I didn’t finish dressing Margaret soon, it would be impossible to goad her to the back of the house in the waning rays of the afternoon.

“Come here, Marge.” I rounded the corner and punched in the key code. I opened the door to the security office and pulled Margaret inside, forcing her to take a seat in the padded, leather chair. Immediately I opened the first aid kit, and grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I dripped a little on a cotton swab, removed my Flintstones band-aid, and pressed it against my ear.

“Ahh!” I winced in pain. I was lucky; Marge had torn out my earring and only bitten off a small chunk of my lobe. It was yet another nasty reminder not to wear jewelry around zombies. What can I say? These fuckers like to pimp themselves out.

But something about all this did not sit well with me.

The zombie in the laundry room was new, and there was no telling how he had slipped inside. Each floor had been swept from top to bottom before Ryan and I sealed it off. If there was a breach, even a broken window, I’d know about it.

With over seven hundred rooms, it would be difficult to narrow down the point of entry. The zombie had been stuck in the dumbwaiter, suggesting that he had entered at a higher level. A few stories up, the only way to get inside was to follow someone in. And it had to be recent; otherwise, I would have already noticed him.

I kept an eye on the security cameras while I applied Margaret’s makeup. Thankfully they’d been spared as well as a convoy of vehicles in the adjacent parking garage. I watched the four-by-three grid of cameras cycle through the main entrance, lobby, lounge, gift shop, front desk, guest elevators, restaurants, back hallways, kitchen, roof and parking garage all in one continuous loop. It was quiet as a crypt, just the way I liked it.

Still, I was suspicious.

I pressed the touch screen and skipped through the guest floors one-by-one. Suddenly a cadaver stumbled out of the service elevator and crashed into the wall. “Travis, you fool.” I shook my head. “Haven’t you figured out by now that there isn’t a room 1313?”

Anyone who’s ever worked in an American hotel knows that we don’t have a thirteenth floor. With such an advanced society, you would think that we could get past such superstitions, but apparently the feelings are strong enough to encourage hotels to mismark the floors. Unfortunately perception doesn’t always match reality, especially here, and a thirteenth floor existed in this hotel even though management refused to admit it.

In light of this, there was a common prank that the staff liked to play on new hires.

“Quick, go check out the fire alarm on the thirteenth floor,” the Engineering Supervisor would radio the rookie.

By the time the newbie got into the elevator, he realized that there wasn’t a button for the thirteenth floor. “Uh…I’m having trouble finding it.”

“Oh, that. I forgot to tell you: as you pass the twelfth floor, stop the elevator and open the doors manually.” The supervisor was careful not to burst into laughter.

“Are you serious?”

“Just do it, man. You’ll see what I mean.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Hey, do you want this job or not?”

It was amazing how many people fell for it aside from my mindless, unsuspecting zombies. Keep going, Travis. You’ll eventually get there!

Suddenly the camera on the roof cut out. Then the sixteenth floor landing. The silent alarm triggered, flashing an emergency warning on my screen.

“Oh, fuck.” I painted the side of Marge’s face with lipstick.

“Funnckk?” She mimicked me.

“You know what I mean.”

I slammed the first aid kit shut and grabbed my keys. Someone was infiltrating the hotel from above. It wouldn’t be long before they seized the lobby and commandeered all of our supplies.

“Stay here. I’m gonna knock the funk out of those pecker-headed bastards!” I locked Marge in the security office and ran down the hall.

I ripped open the door to Engineering and ran inside. An M16, clips of ammunition and a little black box awaited me on the workbench just around the corner. Engineering was now my personal armory, and when supplies ran low, I still had nail guns, sledgehammers and chainsaws to fall back on. Good, bad…I’m the bitch with the bazooka, ready to blast off a man’s pecker from a mile away and power drill his testicles to the ceiling if he dare step inside my castle.

It was only a matter of time before they came, and they always seemed to catch me flat-footed. Promptly I turned off the elevators and ran for the stairs, shoving my earpiece into place. Hopefully that would buy me enough time to take up position on the balcony where I could easily pick them off.

Anyone who stepped foot in my domain learned to regret it, living or undead. Though I did not hear their helicopter, there was no doubt that they had touched down on the roof above. Certainly they didn’t have the balls to approach on foot, especially at night. The zombie legions were too thick, and these buffoons didn’t share my unique tactical advantage. Air travel was their only option.

My buddy Ryan warned me about stealth helicopters, which operated in Whisper Mode and made them difficult to hear. Apparently the European models were the best, especially the ones assembled in Croatia. But why were so many occupying our airspace? Was the United States relying on Europe to fight its wars now?

Like the others, I tried to save Ryan, but came up woefully short. He was buried in the courtyard out front, and once the plague passed, I planned to give him a proper burial in Arlington National Cemetery. Apparently there were plenty of vacancies these days.

I thundered up the stairwell, taking two steps at a time. The front of the house was quiet for now, but wouldn’t be in a few moments. I flung open the door and scampered to my little nook overlooking the lobby. I switched off the safety, peered through my scope, and waited for the fireworks.

Pop, pop, pop. That’s how it all began. Two soldiers in black jumpsuits repelled down the side of the building, picking off stray zombies in the driveway below. Through my scope, I watched their feet hit the ground and bayonets pierce the zombies’ skulls as they tried to get back up.

I knew that I should crawl to the safety of the panic room upstairs, but it wasn’t my style to flee in a time of crisis. Something deep down inside told me that I could take these pussies myself. Besides, it was more fun this way.

A solider emerged from the shadows between the curtains and potted plants. Damn, this guy was good. How did he get into position so quick? I followed him in my crosshairs as he sprinted to the side door and kicked it open. Before I could get off a clean shot, he stepped aside and waved two men in. His comrades ducked and rolled, immediately taking up positions in the lobby.

“Is the lobby secure?” The soldier’s voice crackled, even though the three of them were just a short distance away.

“Negative. There’s an armed civilian inside,” another replied.

“Funk!” I adjusted my earpiece. There was no way of knowing how long he’d been inside. I thought my fortress was impenetrable, but at least one of them had been in here with me the entire time. Hopefully he hadn’t seen too much.

“Sayonara, you little prick. The peepshow’s over.” I zeroed in on one of the soldiers.

“Wait, I see her. Two o’clock.” One of the men pointed his rifle.

One by one I picked them off, tagging each in the neck.

Across the way, gloved hands suddenly emerged from the elevator doors and pried them open. I got to one knee, squeezing off a generous burst as the soldiers fanned out around the balcony. As I turned, the butt of a M-4 semiautomatic rifle greeted me. White light flashed before my eyes for an instant. My knees buckled. Damn, I think I chipped a tooth. Quick as a cat, I caught myself, grabbed my knife, and stabbed him in the thigh.

Shots ricocheted off the guardrail, masking the advance of a second soldier who snuck up behind me and struck me in the back of the head. The world now a murky haze, I gazed up at his black uniform and gas mask, wondering if death had indeed found me.

“Stop. Bring her to me,” a deep voice echoed as I fell away from consciousness.

♦ ♦ ♦

I wallowed in the rollaway bed like a drop of spit in the howling wind. Slowly I opened my eyes, and gazed at the masked soldier above me.

“Notify the general that she’s awake.” The guard nodded, and then directed his attention back to me. He was dressed in a black combat uniform, with thick boots that came to his knees and a dim mask that reflected the gray walls around him.

“Hey there, tiger.” I sat up.

Immediately he pressed his gun to my chest, forcing me back down. “Easy. We don’t want to make any mistakes, now do we?” His rough voice had a tinny sound to it.

“What’s with the mask? The virus isn’t airborne,” I said.

“All of the air is contaminated.”

“Bullshit! You’re just a pussy that likes to hide behind a mask.” I tried to get a rise out of him.

“I’m not engineered for this like you are,” he said calmly.

“Excuse me. What did you say?”

“Let her up,” a voice came from behind me.

The guard removed his gun and backed off. I sat up, and wiped the dried blood from the corner of my mouth. The room fell in and out of focus as I rubbed the back of my head and cracked my neck.

“This is military grade. Where did you get it?” An older man with gray eyes and matching stubble held the black box in front of me. He wore a red beret, and unlike the others, wasn’t wearing a mask.

“A friend gave it to me as a gift,” I replied.

“Can I speak with him?”

“Sure, he’s out front. Next to the maple tree.”

The old man nodded, and set the black box aside. “I’m General Vax, but you can call me Leon.”

“How generous of you.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Yes, I do.” I smiled.

General Vax looked at his guard, and then at me. “Let’s have it then.”

“Jane.”

“Is that all?”

“Doe.”

“Is that the way it’s going to be?” He looked me over and parked his eyes on my chest. Obviously I’d gotten to him in more ways than one. “So what is this place, a zoo?”

“They help keep out strange men and their toys.” I glanced at the guard’s rifle.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Humans are far more dangerous than zombies, don’t you think?” I took out a cigarette.

“There’s no smoking in here.” The general shook his head.

“Says who?”

“I do,” he snapped. “Besides, it’s a nonsmoking hotel.”

What a dumbass! I just loved how he made up shit as he went along. Hopefully this wasn’t how he operated; otherwise, his men were fucked. Most likely he gave himself the rank of general. Just another mercenary and his band of halfwits…