Zombologist Book 1 Zombie Hunters (Zomboligist Series) (2 page)

“Mr. Cheshire?” John whispered. The room was unbearably
hot.

The old man was sitting in front of a roaring fireplace,
sunk back into the crinkles of a large overstuffed armchair. His small body fit
into the chair perfectly as it folded over and around his frail misshapen body.

Just when he thought the old man may not have heard, a
small boney hand gestured slightly to a large leather couch just opposite the
fireplace.  

Sinking into the couch John said, “It is a pleasure to meet
you sir. London is rather foggy.”

The old man just nodded. John watched as he tilted his head
slightly and brought his finger to his lips in a ‘
be silent’
gesture then
raised the same finger in the ‘
wait
’ position.

John nodded his understanding and relaxed into the leather
feeling the warmth of the leather sinking into his tired bones. The hypnotic
roar of the fire combined with the warmth of the couch caused his eyes to droop.
As hard as he fought it, he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

Before long, quiet snores were heard under the roar of the
fire.

****

John’s eyes popped open. He was surprised he had fallen
asleep so easily. Now he was completely embarrassed. As the fog cleared from his
mind, he realized the little man in the chair was gone and in his place sat a
much younger, solid looking man. He sat up straighter; cleared his throat and
uttered his apologies.

“No need to apologize Mr. Dunning. It is a long and
tiresome ride ‘cross the ocean. I have myself traveled on those nasty ships, and
beside, the comfort and lull of the fire could lure any man into sleep.” He said
in his distinct European accent.

Extending his hand, the young man stood and clasped Johns
firmly in his. “I am the son, Henry Cheshire, a pleasure. It was I that
responded to your inquiry, and it was I that asked you here. Your bags have
already been picked up and you are welcome to spend the remaining nights here
until you set sail back to America. I apologize for not meeting you at the dock
but I have just returned to London from Liverpool. I dare say that the train was
running a tad bit late. It took some time to find where you were staying.”

“You have my luggage? Why, thank you, I suppose that will
work.” John said surprised.

“We will no doubt be talking late into the night. There is
no reason why you should try to find your way back to your hotel in the dark,
and with this heavy fog, it would be a near impossible mission. I’d like you to
meet Winston … and Merle … also an American.” the younger Cheshire turned
slightly toward the fireplace.

John was shocked to find two gentlemen sitting off to the
far end of the huge fireplace studying him. “I’m so sorry; I didn’t realize we
were not alone.” He said as he stood and nodded at the two gentlemen.

“Please have a seat Mr. Dunning and we shall begin.”

John sat as Cheshire sat across from him, crossing his legs
and reaching for a pipe. “Smoke?” he offered.

“No, thank you. I don’t know where to begin, or even if you
can help me. You stated in your letter that you knew of the disease my wife
contracted while in South America. You believe it was caused by a bite from one
of the inflicted. I believe that too. I guess the question is how can I cure
her? How can I get my wife back?” John took turns looking at each man as he
spoke. He felt the pleading in his voice, the tears rim his eyes. He saw pity
looking back at him and felt another wave of dread creep up his back.

“I’m deeply sorry for your wife, Mr. Dunning, truly I am.”
Cheshire said pulling the pipe from his mouth. Deep frown lines appeared around
his mouth as he continued.

“When someone is bitten, as your wife was, they contract
the disease. It affects the body in ways that we cannot of yet understand. Each
of the men you see in this room, have had someone, or knew of someone, just like
your wife. There is no cure to date.

We believe that the disease is carried to the bloodstream
from the saliva in the bite, much like what you have stated in your letters,
John. It seems the only plausible explanation. “

John interrupted him, “I am sorry, but, there are more?
More? My wife is not the only one?” 

Cheshire nodded. “John, we are a society that is currently
positioning itself around the world seeking those who have succumbed to this
strange affliction. I call it an affliction or disease only because we don’t
know much about it. Medical knowledge so far is non-existent, and a doctor that
would know anything helpful… well, that doctor just hasn’t been discovered yet.

But, we would like to visit you in America, to see your
wife with our own eyes. Perhaps if we study her close enough, we may learn
something useful.”

John was appalled. He had come all this way to what? Hand
over his wife to these heathens? So they could… study her, experiment on her?

“My wife is none of your concern, gentleman. I believe our
meeting is over.” John rose abruptly ready to storm out when the older man,
Winston stood and spoke for the first time.

“Mr. Dunning, please sit down. Perhaps if I were to tell
you what we know so far, you may understand our position a little better.”

Wanting to find out all he could, John relented and sat,
leaning forward and opened his hands. He had done this many times when talking
to members of his congregation, encouraging them to open up to him.

“What we know so far is that once someone succumbs to the
disease, the disease shuts down the body. You may have recognized a few signs in
your wife just after she was bit; fever, chills, unresponsiveness, shallow
breathing and then finally death.” He waited for a nod from the preacher.

“Very well. These are the common signs. Now, let’s take
this little meeting to the underground chamber, shall we. There is something you
must see.”

With that the three men rose. John rose as well and
followed them down to the cellar below.

****

“They caught him just outside the city. He was attacking
people and ripping pieces of flesh from them, devouring them and attacking
others. Several men attacked him but none could kill him. They were unaware that
the only way to cause permanent death was to…”

“Cut off the head.” whispered John.

Winston eyed him carefully. “Correct. The only way to kill
one of these things is to decapitate it. No one figured that out. They fought
him, stabbing him several times, in the back, the neck, the chest and the gut. A
woodsman fearing for his safety swung his axe and nearly severed the creatures’
leg. When that didn’t slow down the attacks, they proceeded to bind him with
ropes, but still the creature continued to fight them showing no signs of pain
or discomfort. It was then they realized that this was no ordinary man.

‘The old man you met upstairs, Cheshire’s father, was a
young man at the time. He was also a collector of odd and unusual things, morbid
things. He came along as the attack was happening and he and several men drug
the creature here. He threw him in a closet and then built this cage as you see.

“He began to study him in secret, telling the others that
he had died.

“After the attack, the bitten began to fall ill; and later
fell into comas and died. Each one experienced the same illness and the result
was always death. They were buried quickly and left to lie under the dirt.

“As a bungling scientist, the elder Cheshire found no
answers by inept dissection, so he traveled the world in search of another, but
always came up empty. He collected information and discovered many ancient
stories and legends. He called it
Zombie
from the legends derived from
one of the South American tribes in Kanaima.

“He never discovered who the infected man was or where he
had come from. No one knew where he lived. Perhaps if the old man could have
found out, he may have found more. But, we may never know.

“Throughout the years he returned to the graves of those
who had been bitten on that day and dug up the coffins. He transported the boxes
here to study the victims and dissected them in private. He killed every one of
them in the process when he attempted to study the brain. But this one, the
first one, he was very careful with.”

John took a long look at the zombie in the cage. Armless
and legless it was still trying to drag itself closer to the four men, but
without much success. It wiggled over the floor and rolled its body as it inched
forward in a gross display. Its loud moans were deafening. The thing on the
floor was gnashing his teeth so violently that it began chewing off its own
bottom lip. Black gooey ooze dripped unto the floor and splattered its face as
it shook its head. The smell was fetal, so horrid that the four men had long ago
covered their nostrils with their shirts and cloaks.

“Why,” John gulped quickly and started again. “Why does it
smell so bad? My wife… my wife hardly smells at all.”

The three men said simultaneously “You are feeding her.”

Horror slid through John’s conscience. This creature, this
abomination was what his beautiful wife was now. This is what she would become
should anything happen to him. She would live on, slowly rotting, as he went
coldly into the earth. Dust to dust.

“See, this goon has not had any human flesh in nearly 27
years,” Winston continued. “The elder Cheshire wanted to find out how long one
of these things could live without raw food. 27 years. Here sir, we have the
secret to longevity. Imagine if we could harvest this virus and insert it…”

Winston quickly stopped speaking as the two men gave him
reproachful looks. He had said enough.

“Devouring human flesh,” said the man, Dr. Merle which had
until then stood quiet. “Eating, keeps them fresh. Something in the blood or
body tissue feeds the very disease that keeps them moving. This creature has
died Mr. Dunning. It is quite dead. There is no respiration, no heart beat and
no circulation of blood in the body. The man had died at one time and rose from
the dead to feast on the living. His dead body is propelled only by the disease
in his body. As a medical doctor, I can assure you this thing is dead, quite
dead; as is your wife, Mr. Dunning.”

Dr. Merle stopped speaking and turned to look at John,
giving him time to let the words sink in.  

When Dr. Merle sensed that the blow he had just placed upon
John Dunning had passed, he continued, more softly this time. “Since this is the
only one we know of, besides your wife, I don’t want to jeopardize killing this
thing by medically studying it any further. It is a fascinating creature to say
the least. I would only feel safe if I knew there was another one like it in the
world.

“That’s why it is imperative that we see your wife.”

John couldn’t believe his ears. No way. He could see the
wheels turning; the desire in their eyes.

“She is dead Mr. Dunning. There is no bringing her back
from the dead. There is no cure, no magic potion or exorcism that could ever
bring her back to life.” More softly now, “I’m sorry Mr. Dunning, I thought you
understood.”

Johns head was spinning. The thing in the cage was getting
closer to his boot; he stepped away and closed his eyes tightly. Terror was
growing inside him, a long overdue raging blind terror.  He fought for air,
black circles forming before his eyes. He gagged for breath, his chest crushing
against his beating heart.

No cure!

No cure!

Julian, oh my dearest Julian.

****

Inside the cage, Julian lifted her head. The meager bones
of the rat lay scattered around her. That one had been so easy. Too bad the man
didn’t come poking around that close. What a feast she would have!

Her mind, that was not her mind, but a mind that thought
independently beyond her control, imagined that there were more like the man
that she should know, but didn’t, beyond the darkness of these horrid dirt
walls. She tried to bring the man into focus but could not. She only saw red.

There were moments of almost lucidity, when she was almost
able to grasp something more sustainable than what the evil that was now her
mind forced onto her.

Only for seconds at a time could she think rationally. She
fought this force within her constantly, but never subduing it nor controlling
it, as it controlled her now.

She was oh so hungry.

The small measly rat made the body her mind inhabited
slightly stronger, but not strong enough. The man had been gone a long time. She
needed more food. Julian threw back her head and growled long and deep.

She would wait. Her time would come.

****

I

Present: Pennsylvania

Jana Jones put the pedal to the metal as the gates opened
in front of her. She was seriously pissed. The last two days in California
produced nothing; nothing but a complete waste of time.