Zombie Day Care (6 page)

He swiped his magnetic card, the green light flared as he watched the silver door yawn open. He walked out into a vibrant room that only the most creative minds could have imagined. The sight was always unsettling, unnatural and impossible. The kaleidoscopic colors were intense and overwhelming. His chest tightened, a cold sweat overcame him as he balled up his fists.
Inhale your sanity. Exhale the madness. Welcome back to the Zombie Day Care.

Small bodies of children were in slow motion, sputtering inside a rainbow room full of giant stuffed toys and radiant bean bag chairs. The bright clothes the children wore were in stark contrast of their olive gray skin and thinning hair. Near the middle of the room, a boy, about five years old, fell down a slicky slide. A slack-jawed girl, maybe seven, stood in front of a large LCD screen, staring at an episode of Mister Giggle Pants. Another little boy wearing a red and white striped shirt was chewing the popcorn from the inside of a bean bag chair.

The words, “num-num,” would escape their gothic little lips, like a heartbeat, from time to time. The sound of soothing classical music did little to block out the eye jolting assault on Henry’s senses. Henry watched a little girl in a pink dress, still with much of her blonde hair, walking on a treadmill at an agonizing pace. He looked over on the machines timer: sixteen hours thirty-five minutes.
She must have just started.

He looked up, searching for people in lab coats, working along the platforms and catwalks surrounding the room from above. No one was there. He walked deeper into the playroom, careful to avoid the children. He watched one child in a bright yellow Juicy Tart shirt make a wide yawn. He steered clear of that one, as the sight of its gray teeth tingled his fingertips.
They’re still dangerous.
But many of the others in the lab didn’t share Henry’s sentiments.

A voice shouted from above, “Hey, Sam Bucket’s back! Welcome back Dr. Bucket!”

There was a small applause coming from somewhere on the catwalk above.

Shielding his eyes from the bright lights overhead he yelled back, “I’m not Dr. Bucket … quit saying that.”

“
You look like him though,” the same voice said.

“
No, I don’t. I have black hair and glasses.” Henry pointed to his rectangular spectacles.

He watched a heavyset man traverse over the catwalks with loud footsteps and stand overhead of him.

“
You sound like him.”

Shaking his head he pleaded, “I don’t
sound
like him either. Can we please stop doing this?”

The man above was a few years older than him, with thick black hair, an unkempt beard and meaty arms like sailor.

“
Not until you say it,” the man said in a determined voice.

“
Say what?” He knew what.

The man was nodding his head, hairy arms folded over his belly saying, “You know what?”

It seemed like every eye was on him now, but he couldn’t tell from the lights. A little zombie child approached, causing him to step further away.

“
We’re waiting,” the man said with his arms outstretched.

He held his finger up and the man above pressed his arms out while leaning forward on the rail saying, “Make sure we all can hear it.”

He put his hands on his hips and said, “Oh crap!”

“
Yes!” Rudy shouted. “Yes—you nailed it!”

A polite applause from another pair of unseen hands erupted inside the room. The man above him began climbing down a tunnel ladder that was similar to a building fire escape. The husky man dropped to the ground, stumbled and fell face first into a bright green bean bag. Jumping up, the man jogged over and gave him a hug.

“
I’m glad you’re back Sam … I mean Henry!”

“
Okay, okay Rudy, enough.”

He squirmed away looking around his sides as another zombie boy was walking away.

“
You act like I’ve been gone all year.”

As Rudy stepped back Henry could see the weathered Phantom Leap T-Shirt inside his lab coat. His friend must have had everything the show ever made. Henry even bought him one for Christmas.

A thrill was in Rudy’s voice as he talked, “Man! I–am–glad–you–are–back! It’s never the same around here. It’s like a morgue.”

“
It is a morgue.”

“
Good one Bawk. Anyway, when your brother showed up right after you left—”

“
Wait a minute,” he grabbed Rudy by the shoulder, “When?
Right
after I left?”

Rudy turned a little pale, averted his stare and said, “The next day.”

He’s been here two weeks. How? Why didn’t anyone say something? Tori? Rudy?

“
Why didn’t anyone tell me?” He was angry.

“
Man, you sound just like him.”

“
Who? Jimmy?”

“
No dude, Skip Bawkula.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed his dumpy friend again. “Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

The blustering man’s eyes widened when he brushed his hands away and said, “Because we knew it would upset you, and we didn’t want to ruin your vacation.”

“
Rudy,” his voice was rising, “there are things more important than my vacation and that would be the safety of all these people.” Rudy’s head was down. Henry felt something brush along his side causing him to half-jump away. He exhaled, it was Tori.

“
You mad at me too lover?” Her voice was sweet as honey.

“
Yes!” he said as he straightened his glasses, climbed inside the steel ladder tube and huffed up the rungs.

Rudy was pointing at Tori as he mouthed the words;
I told you he’d be mad.
The two followed him up as Rudy tried to prompt Tori to go first, but she pushed him along ahead of her.

“
Almost,” he said, snapping his fingers.

The catwalks crossed over a platform that encompassed the outer rim of the day care. The entire layout made him feel like he was on the set of an eighties spy movie. Computers and monitors were displayed along the walls and behind partitions. Some other familiar heads popped up and sunk back down behind their stations. It was the usual luke warm reception at best. Watching zombies all day for a living did little for social development.
Where’s Dad?
Spying another set of doors along the wall he headed for it with determination.
I bet he’s in there.
More footsteps came from behind him, clamoring over the metal walkway. A warm delicate hand caught up with his, slowing him down.

He pulled away, but it held him tight.

“
Let go Tori. I’ve got to see him.”

She barred his way with her body, chest out, hands on hips.

“
Don’t be mad. Settle down, we’ve got something to show you.” She pressed closer. “Just give us a minute.”

Two heads of black hair were peeping over their monitors, with grins resting below.

Rudy’s heavy hand slapped his butt saying, “Come on Bawk, you gotta see this?”

He couldn’t imagine it was something good, but their voices were filled with excitement. Tori’s suggestive smile subdued his sense of dread, and Rudy’s wild expression raised his brows.

“
Okay, but can we drop the Phantom Leap bit. I don’t look like him.”

She grabbed his chin, “But you do sound like him … it’s very sexy.”

“
Man, if you looked like him, you’d have it all,” his friend was saying, pulling out the picture on his shirt.

“
I’m better looking than that guy.”

Tori was fingering the locks of his hair when she said, “It’s okay lover, nobody looks better than movie stars.”

He slumped a bit as she pulled him down the platform. A small overlook stepped out and above a smaller multi-colored room below. A thickset boy, almost five feet tall, walked around the room at alarming speed for a zombie. A crop of medium brown hair hung down over its sunken eyes. The boy rushed around on brick heavy feet, elbows and knees stiff as boards as it rammed into a padded wall. The big boy fell onto the floor, only to pick itself up and rush again.

“
What the hell!” Henry said, pulling his glasses up and glaring at Tori, then Rudy. “How did this happened Rudy?”

“
I don’t know, I’m not a biologist, I’m just a watcher and recorder. GS-16 dude.” Rudy waived his ID that was pinned to his white coat in Henry’s face. “Now check this out,” Rudy said. Henry knew full well that Rudy did know, he just didn’t want the credit for it.

Rudy pulled a red rubber ball from a black canister and hurled it upside the zombie child’s head, bringing forth a grunt. It turned and chased after the ball. Henry’s breathe stopped as it picked the ball up.
This can’t be.
An uncomfortable thrill raised his hairs from head to toe. The slack-jawed face below showed mild curiosity before its face contorted. The ball began to bulge while the child squeezed it like a bear. It was grunting, trying to dig its clipped nails deep into the rubber. The ball didn’t yield nor the zombie.

“
He’ll play with that ball for hours, unless he bites it.” Rudy was enamored by the scene, while Henry went over and grabbed Tori by her wrists.

“
How long?” he said with disbelief.

“
About a week,” she said in a nervous voice. “Your dad told us to just observe. That’s all we’ve done. It’ll be alright Henry, relax. We’re getting closer to a cure.”

There is no cure. There is no good in this. Why! Why! Why!

He could never understand how after just a few years people seemed to forget that the zombies were within days, maybe hours, of wiping out the human race. Instead of destroying the menace, they wanted to cure it. It was insanity, there was no good to be had in zombies, no matter who they used to be. No one listened to him these days. At least no one important did, anyway.

“
Watch this! Watch this!” Rudy yelled, almost falling over the railing.

The grayish child bit into the rubber, teeth tearing it like a piece of chicken. The ball deflated along with Henry’s excitement. Another chill went down his spine as long dead images arose in his head.

“
Are there any others?”

“
No,” Tori and Rudy both replied.

“
Good. Where is my dad?” he demanded, looking at the doors to the micro-lab. Instead they pointed below, meaning the basement. Henry knew he had to put a stop to this before it was too late.

Chapter 11

A wall of monitors displayed the interior activity of the facility, inside and out. Many of them were without a picture, showing only a black screen or a green error message. Fingers tapped into a keyboard as the remaining views above switched back and forth.

The rest of the room was dark, featuring a low electronic hum and empty office chairs. Three security stations were there, but only one was occupied. There was a set of lockers, a small table, some cobwebs and a refrigerator. Along the wall was a half empty gun rack, below a grey locker that read AMMO. The dust was more modern than the equipment, but it would do. This facility was only a satellite agency, one of many, diminishing in funds and employees.

Guthrie was an old government building that was easy to hide, located in a high place no one cared to remember. When the zombie infestation was curbed, and the World Humanitarian Society was enacted, there was a dire need for zombie care. Guthrie was an abandoned West Virginia state facility that was easier to conceal than modify. It was one of the first of its kind. The politicians in Washington, D.C., with zombie family, were the first to hide the ones they loved, rather than incinerate them. The inflicted children were considered the least dangerous, so they were taken in first.

Over the first couple of years, many visits by the powerful slipped unnoticed up the swerving hill to Guthrie. The change in the seasons brought changes in offices, and those visiting privileges were revoked. None of them seemed to care though, as there was no fervor about it. The zombie children didn’t know any better. If their families cared, it was never missed by their kids. The funding was. Guthrie was on its last legs, a metal tomb decaying in the hills, soon to be taken by the sticky greens and forgotten.

Candy wrappers and crushed beer cans lay scattered on a black desktop, along with a credit card. A jittery hand began dicing up lines of white powder. A crisp green bill was rolled up. One by one the lines disappeared from the desk into the green tube, in long heavy sniffs.
It’s not crack, but I still like it.
Jimmy sat back, wringing his nose as he opened up his eyes in observation. Things became perfect, crystal clear. He was ready for anything now, his brother be damned.

Jimmy had a mission, a secret one that no one but him knew about. They paid him, fed his need and promised there would be more. The government men were fools, he would have done it for free. The drugs were more than enough to see everyone suffer.

His shaking hands and dirty fingers became busy opening computer files and rebooting black screens.
This will be awesome!
Standing up, he powered up digital recorders beneath the monitors, bringing the sounds of more whirs and whines
.