Zombologist Book 1 Zombie Hunters (Zomboligist Series) (10 page)

“She looks like a dressmaker's dummy, you know, the kind in
department stores; I wonder if she isn’t, you know, some sort of mannequin.
Maybe there was some pervert up here, you know, banging it or something?” Marco
said his voice hardly more than a whisper.

And with that the three boys busted up laughing. The gale
of teenage laughter was the gem that released the cold reality of death from the
moment. Only Joe wasn’t laughing. The floor of the cave was a solid sheet of ice
and he wasn’t having much luck retaining his balance. He stared at the frozen
body, dread fingering an icy trail down his spine.

“I dare you to touch it.” Alfonzo challenged to no one in
particular.

“I’m not touching it, are you insane” Kyle said.

Swallowing loudly Alfonzo said, “Come on, someone has to
feel it, to make sure it’s, you know, its fucken real.”

“You touch it then fuck wad.” Marco said.

“I dared you first.”

“Fucking baby.” Marco stepped forward stretching out his
arm, the tremble obvious.

Joe heard and tried to ignore all the F-bombs going off.
The more frightened his brother’s friends were, the more they swore. He had
noticed that when Kyle was preening for dates or they had been talking about
sex. He knew they were trying to cover up their fear. And, besides, what
do
you say when you find a dead body?

Marco stepped closer. He cleared his throat and wiped his
free hand on his pants. Reaching out again he stepped forward and touched the
woman’s cheek. His fingers fell into hard but supple flesh.

He pulled his hand back quickly; eyes open in surprise,
“it’s real.”

He stood regaining his composure before he turned toward
his friends, grinned and said, “See, nothing too it.” He had to make a show of
it so he began to slowly stoke her cheek.

“Oh lovely dead lady.”

“
DON’T TOUCH IT
” Joe yelled absolutely horrified.

The shout was deafening inside the cavern. Startled, Marco
jerked and then slipped on the icy floor, his body did a backwards, downward
jerk and his hand came down hard on her cheek his wrist sliding across her
teeth. A sharp pain issued from his wrist as fresh blood spurted across the
woman’s face.

“Joe, you stupid moron, look what you made me do.”  Marco
shouted raising his arm and watched in horror as blood flowed out of his wrist.
Marco quickly pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around his wrist trying to
slow the blood flow.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Kyle said before sliding
through the tunnel.

Outside in the sunshine once again the boys stood around
the campfire inspecting Marco’s wound before re-wrapping the t-shirt around it.

“Man, this is the worse camping trip ever.” Alfonzo stated.
“Marco is bleeding everywhere, Joe sprains his ankle and we find a dead body.
Jeez who would have ever guessed? So, who is going to hike down the mountain
with me to find cell reception? We have to call the police.”

No, we’ll all go.” said Joe. “There is no way I am staying
on this mountain with a dead body just a few yards away.”

“I’ll go, Joe, you can’t walk very fast and even though I
cut my wrist, I can still walk. Kyle, you can stay here with Joe, we won’t be
long, and we only walked a half hour before Joe sprained his ankle. We should
only be a few hours at the most.”

“No, we all go. No one is staying here with that dead body.
Seriously, we all go.”

“What? So now you are afraid the body is going to walk out
of the cave. Seriously Joe, you are such a baby.”

So just like that Joe was back to being a baby. Just last
night he had belonged to the ‘Testosterone pack’ and by finding a dead body, he
was back to being a baby.

Before Joe could protest further, Marco and Alfonzo grabbed
their packs and headed out.

Joe and Kyle sat down near the dying fire to wait.  

****

Saturday Afternoon

Very nice
, Jana thought as she made her way back to
the farmhouse. She would have to call Willis when she finished up here to thank
him for the generous gift.

She walked into the house and by cue, Dillon sent her
toward the stairs with a slight tilt of his head and a roll of his eyes. Years
of working together almost left them able to communicate with subtle body and
facial gestures.  

She found the room easily enough; Jamal was just outside
the door trying to coax the woman inside to open the door. Jana could hear sobs
coming from behind the door. Just as she was about to have Jamal kick open the
door, the door opened and a dour faced woman of about 80 stood blocking the
doorway. Her hands were bloody. Her tear streaked face was riddled with lines
and creases but none more noticeable than the deep frown line in the center of
her eyes.

“I think he’s dead. I can’t wake him.” She stammered
through tears and broken English. “He’s my only child, a good man.”

 “What’s his name?” Jana asked the tear stricken woman.

“Edward. Edward Santos.”

Edward was roughly 60 years old, fine lines and crinkles
covered his still face. Jana quickly calculated that he had been bit around 9
a.m. it was now 2 p.m., 5 hours. She didn’t have much time.

Jana gently pushed her way past the elder woman and looked
at the man on the bed.

He was very still. Blood was still running from a large
gaping wound on his face. Upon closer inspection Jana could see that the bite
had been fierce enough that his entire check had been ripped from his face. She
could see tendons and bone; the bed sheets were soaked with blood. A bloody rag
sat on the table beside the bed.

She cautiously walked up to the edge of the bed unsnapping
her hand-axe from its holder at her waist. With her axe raised she walked closer
and carefully felt his forehead.

Hot.

But, still alive.

Jana sighed with relief and replaced her axe. She pulled a
syringe from a pocket in her jacket and without hesitation she plunged it into
his left arm.

His eyes flew open and he grabbed her wrist. His grip was
weak. His bleary eyes glared at her, confusion lined his brow. A fresh stream of
hot blood ran down the side of his face, running into his ear and out onto the
blood soaked sheets.

Ed’s mother was there in an instant with another bloody
rag, putting pressure on his ripped cheek, trying to stop the blood flow.

“Who are you?” he said weakly. “Where is my wife?”

Jana grabbed his hand and gently tugged it away from her
wrist but continued to hold it while she spoke. “Mr. Santos, my name is Jana
Jones and I am here to help you. Can you tell me what happened to you in the
field?” Jana spoke softly while she uncapped a thermometer and placed it in his
mouth, his eyes dropped again.

At first she thought he had again fallen asleep, but then
he started talking in hitched breaths. Edward Santos was having a difficult time
breathing. His throat appeared to be deeply swollen, his words came out in
concentrated hitches as he struggled to focus and breathe. He began to talk, the
thermometer bobbling from the corner of his mouth as he did.

“I was…. in the… southern field. I had one…. one bull that
I needed … for breeding. Couldn’t…. couldn’t find it. Searching…. came upon 2
men … eating it. At first… at first I thought they were…. butchering him, right
there…. in the field. Blood everywhere…. soaking into ground, I know…” he broke
into a coughing fit, leaned feebly over the side of the bed where a bucket sat,
hacked and started again.

“I know times are tough….the damn government…. sabotaging
the economy… I yelled. They whipped their… heads around… stood. They walked
right…. right toward me ….the one still eating the flesh… of the downed bull. I
thought…” another coughing fit ensued and it took several minutes this time for
him to gather himself. Jana found a glass of water sitting on a worn handmade
bedside table and raised it to his lips.

The hand in hers was burning up. She pulled the thermometer
out of his mouth. 103.2. Not good. Jana shook it down and put it back in his
mouth.

He took a deep breath and began again. “I thought they were
loco. I was mad. The nerve…. I was still yelling…. when I saw… I saw…. the eyes.
The eyes were yellow…. Yellow! Like rancid butter…bloodshot… but black, not
red….like blood…. black gums… teeth. Filthy.”

“then the one… oh my god the one… his shirt was torn and
his… chest was not there….just, big, empty….nothing….could see clear through to
…his spine…. impossible, not real..”

Tears began to slide from the corners of his eyes.

“The bulls flesh…. just fell out….on the ground. He was
eating my bull… gnawing on the raw meat…but…it fell to…the ground. … it plopped,
…. And… and, it just popped out … and fell on the ground….the splat..it fell.”

Ed eyes were darting around the room, searching for
something, but not finding it. He began again, much faster this time, his
breathing becoming easier.

“I can’t feel my legs….I feel numb… what did they poison
….me with…rabies? I backed away, stumbled, fell. The one with the torn out chest
was on me. I crawled on the ground backwards, scooted on my but…. Tried to get
up. He fell, oh” Ed Santos broke into sobs, “he fell right on top of me and bit
me hewassostrongIcouldn’tgethimoffofme. Strong. So strong. He bite me…finally…I
finally rolled him away and got to my feet. I ran.”

“Did you see which way they went after you had gotten
away?”

“Back to the bull. They went back to eat.”

Just then her radio squawked, “We have one. One detained.
Over.”

Ed began to roll his head from side to side. The serum
should be taking effect soon. Either he will make it or he won’t. Each batch was
sort of hit or miss. Without enough subjects the serum can’t be deemed effective
or ineffective until they get a case like this. Jana took the thermometer out of
his mouth again, 103.9. His temperature was rising rapidly. Once again she shook
down the thermometer and inserted it back into his mouth.

Ed began to mumble, his words making no sense.

Dementia was beginning to set in. Jana knew that Ed would
ramble on for a while longer, and then fall into a coma. The coma could last
anywhere from 5 minutes to 5 hours, then he would die. From the time a person is
bit death could take as long as 8 hours or be instant, depending on the zombie
type and how often the biting reflex has been working.

The Zombie virus is similar to the toxicity of a snake.
With a snake, the more venom a snake releases the more toxic it becomes. When a
zombie bites or chews for any length of time, the more toxic the saliva becomes.
The more a Zombie hunts, the more they catch, and the more flesh they
eat, the more toxic they become.

This is the main reason victims in zombie outbreaks turn
quickly and survivors are rare. But there are some survivors nonetheless and
this is why the members of
the society
are growing each and every year.
Nearly every member of
the society
had been involved in a zombie
outbreak, not all, but most. It is the horror and the death that bonds
the
society’s
members together.

From what Jana could see Ed Santo’s only had the one bite,
and a nasty one at that.

“Ed, can you hear me?”

“But I want to drive the tractor. You said when I was old
enough I could. Billy gets to drive.”

Jana shook her head. The serum didn’t seem to be working.
This was not a surprise, just a disappointment. With each batch of serum the
virus just overtakes it and mutates itself to a strength that makes the serum
ineffective.

Ed opened his eyes and looked at her. His eyes were
beginning to show signs of the yellow-white film common to the turning. His skin
was also turning sallow. His breathing was becoming faster and irregular. “I’m
so cold. My body, I can’t feel it. I’m numb and can’t move. What’s happening to
me?”

“I have one more question to ask you Mr. Santos, okay? “

He nodded. Good, he was with her once again.

“The one that attacked you was fast. Right?”

Jana waited for a nod.

“How fast was the other one? Did you notice if it ran or
walked slowly?”

He blinked rapidly, eyes darting from side to side. Jana
knew he wouldn’t last much longer. She hated this part of the job. Trying to
gain information from a dying man was insensitive, she knew. But it was
necessary. Part of Jana wanted to comfort him, to tell him it would be alright.
But she knew that wasn’t true. The man was going to die.

“The other one, he, he, staggered a bit but the one… the
one that bit… bit me, he was… quicker, you know. He walked… faster than the
other.” Just a whisper now, “didn’t lurch. So. Much.”

He seemed to deflate on the pillow, sinking back and
shutting his eyes. Jana tried to bring him back, but he was slipping into a
coma.
.
“Mr. Santos,” she whispered. “Speak to me, for God’s sake, speak
to me, Ed.” But there was no answer, no movement beneath his closed eyes. She
took the thermometer out of his mouth one last time, 104.5.