Zombologist Book 1 Zombie Hunters (Zomboligist Series) (7 page)

Jana tried to remember how the estate was laid out and
where the elevator would be above ground. She thought the eight car garage or
any of the three out buildings, which consisted of the pool house, gardeners
shed or guest house.  Wasn’t there a stable close to the house? She couldn’t be
sure. She wasn’t even sure which direction from the main house they faced. She
really sucked at directions. Dillon would know. He possessed the innate sense of
direction that she lacked.

Directly to her right was a completely different area.
Behind a large double stone archway was an immense ‘gentleman’s style’ room
complete with hanging chandeliers.  Deep red oriental rugs interwoven with rich
golden design covered a lavishly polished dark oak wood floor. A bar also
crafted with dark wood flanked the far wall and ran the entire length of the
wall. Behind the bar, glass shelves held countless bottles of hard liquor and
behind that, large mirrors ran from ceiling to floor.

Along the right wall sat several large overstuffed black
leather couches and recliners but instead of facing each other as for
conversation, they all faced the wall directly in front of them, which was a
solid sheet of clear dark glass, completely dark behind. A faint smell of cigar
smoke hung in the air.

Dye quickly dimmed the lights in that room, but they had
got the feel of the room and had a good idea of what sort of
entertainment
went on in there.

Mr. Dye lifted his hand and the steel doors swished open.
Dillon took a closer look as he passed and noticed a tiny sensor bar seamlessly
imbedded into the wall.

What I could do with this set up
, thought Jana as
she took in the
subterranean
surroundings.

The aisle was about 12 feet wide and was flanked on either
side by large dark glass walls imbedded into a concrete structure. Jana suddenly
realized that she wasn’t looking at a glass wall but individual rooms encased in
glass.  Jana couldn’t see through the darkened glass from where she was standing
but could only imagine what would be inside. There were enough glass cases to
house a few dozen zombies.

****

 “Quite unusual isn’t she?” Willis Dye stood before a glass
enclosure rocking back and forth on his heels, hands deep in his Khakis.

To Dillon he looked like a kid inspecting a new form of
mutant alien.

Jana and Dillon watched the creature behind the glass. Her
skin was the color of burnt honey, smooth everywhere except for the underarms
and wrists where she had been bitten.

From years of study Jana knew by the location of the wounds
she had been bitten as she was defending herself. Bites on the underside of the
arms and wrist areas were common as the victim simultaneously tried to hold the
attacker back and protect the face at the same time.

The encased woman wore a bright red dress that fell just
below her knees. It was ripped and covered by layers of mud and dark debris
making it barely recognizable. The ragged clothes Jana recognized as the formal
burial costume of the South American tribe set deep within the Guyana forest.
The head dress she must have worn was long gone.

She had leaves scattered throughout her hair and the dried
blood from a recent feast, whose bones were scattered along the floor, covered
her hands, arms and mouth. Her eyes were one large puddle of black murk and had
a thin layer of the milky white substance common to Zombies.

But this one was uncommon to several they had researched.

For one she was quite attractive, and her flesh was well
preserved. Her skin was supple under layers of mud and muck.

She had a look of intelligence to her too, a knowing that
wasn’t present in modern outbreak areas. She would be a Type N, Common to South
America where the virus was the purest form.

Type N was extremely rare and very expensive. This was
perhaps the most magnificent specimen of the walking dead that she had ever
seen. And, she had seen thousands. But, one thing was positive, the girl was
absolutely stunning.

Jana was mentally going over the “Type N” list as she
watched the extraordinary zombie.

She would be quicker, more agile, and very aggressive.
Smart, cunning- can think and methodically plan, parts of the brain show
activity, very little physical deterioration, diggers, territorial, possessive,
slow eaters when food supplies ran short, callously torturing their victims by
eating around and saving vital organs for last… Very deadly, lethal.

As Jana accessed the zombie, Dillon and Willis were
engaging in conversation. Jana pulled herself out of her thoughts when Dillon
spoke, “Mr. Dye, where did you find this zombie?” Both already knew the answer
but Dillon wanted to hear it from him, see if he would tell the truth or conceal
it.

“I am a collector Mr. Parks and fortunately a very wealthy
one at that. I wanted to posses something so unique, so rare, and so utterly
exceptional that it was beyond human understanding. And look, with her I have
achieved my goal. I have seized the utmost perfect sampling of the living dead.

“I have spent my entire life looking at diamonds. They are
cold, hard and everlasting invaluable. Diamonds may not be so rare anymore but
they are extraordinarily unique unto themselves. A diamond is pure carbon. Each
atom of carbon is ingeniously arranged by nature.” Willis, arms folded across
his chest, turned to look at his audience.  Assured that he had their rapt
attention he went on.

“Do you know how long it takes for a diamond to form?”

The humble host that he was, Willis waited until his guests
shook their heads before he continued. “For a diamond to form, you must have
just the right combination of pressure and heat. But the most important
ingredient is simply, time. Some diamonds may take thousands of years to form
while others have taken millions of years. The best diamonds, however, have been
in the ground for billions of years.

“Can you imagine?
Billions
of years? If a diamond
could speak, the tales it could tell. The earth forming, reforming, the animals
that roamed before man; then of course the emergence of man
.

“The very vibrant soul of the diamond can be crafted into a
magnificent masterpiece in the right hands. Its strength makes it immortal and
so valuable.

“A raw diamond is unique, pale-yellow crystal clusters,
golden or greenish grey. But, a diamond is only as valuable as it is rare.

“When one comes across something so rare wrapped in a
mystery, such as her…” Willis hesitated for a moment, lost in thought before he
continued. “As a collector, well, I couldn’t resist.”

 
Willis raised his hand
to his possession. At least that is how he thought of her; a rare and valuable
object to possess and own. In his eyes, she was a mere creature as brilliantly
beautiful, and just as eternal if not as rare, as an uncut diamond.

Dropping his hand, he continued, “Her story is amazing and
also a simple one. Her name was Tamosia. She was the daughter of a farmer. As
the legend was told to me by her great granddaughter Tamosia was in the field
late at night to meet her betrothed. She heard noise in the brush and thought he
was playing a game with her, as he was quite mischievous and often enjoyed
sneaking up on her.

“She started toward the brush with a giggle on her lips.
Perhaps this time she would sneak up on
him
. As she got closer she spied
a woman kneeling over a wild boar which had been ripped wide open, its heart
still beating in the woman’s hands. As Tamosia watched in horror, the woman
raised the boar’s heart to her mouth and began to eat.

“Tamosia had heard many legends of the flesh eating ghouls
that had once belonged to her tribe, but never really believed until that
moment. She backed away as quietly as she could but tripped at the last minute.
The gorging woman heard her and boldly attacked her, ripping the flesh from her
raised arms as she defended herself. She was able to push herself away and ran
back to the village where she awakened her parents and betrothed, who, quite
shamelessly, had fallen asleep.

“She had died a few hours later and the villagers quickly
buried her. She was laid to rest in a secret place that was set aside for ‘
the
sacred dead that walk the earth’
as they label them. Other tribes I have
learned call them
Zimbaween
- dead man walking. They told me that
she had risen by the evening of the following day, doomed to walk forever in the
land of the living. The local shamans lured her into the cave where the rest of
the sacred dead were kept. I paid a handsome price for this one.

“She is 80 years old. You cannot tell now can you?

“But she becomes very cunning and even quite friendly when
she is hungry. She tries to lure me into her enclosure as a hooker would do,
running her hands over her body and cooing. She is not aware that I am a man
that prefers the company of a much harder body than she possesses.

“And to answer the question you asked me previously… as you
well know she is from Guyana”

Dillon nodded, fair enough. “Could you let her see us, I’d
like to see her reaction; would you adjust the glass so she would be able to see
us?” Dillon asked.

“Of course, she has just eaten as you can see from the calf
bones scattered throughout the cage, greedy one she is.”  

Dye stood to the left of the one way glass and opened the
door of a small steel box set into the wall and turned some knobs. The glass
fogged slightly and then became clearer.

The creature inside, Tamosia, shifted her head toward the
incoming light. As quick as a panther, she lunged at the glass wall, a muted
thud was heard as she clawed and threw herself forward into it repeatedly.
Snarls twisted her attractive face into a deadly mask … Dye stepped forward and
with a twist, immediately dimmed the glass. She threw her head from side to
side, sensing the three were there but unable to get a focus on where.

“Don’t want to injure the old girl.”

“It is very rare to find a zombie so intact and so old. It
is believed that the elder ones are indeed smarter, more cunning and faster than
those who were just recently turned. The virus thins itself out eventually
producing duller, less intelligent specimens, Type S, slugs or sloths or the
Type H, the Herders. Then, the virus miraculously gains in strength again. Or,
so, that’s what we’ve heard from different cultures throughout South America.”
Dillon said.

“So, what are your plans for her? Would you allow us to do
a few tests on her; perhaps run a few samples to put into our data base? As you
know we must record the where about of all zombies in the country.”

Willis shook his head slightly, “No, I’m sorry I can’t
allow you to do that. That I have invited you here and have given you a show
should be enough. I have taken all precautions to keeping the zombies inside and
the world outside. I ask that you respect that and my decision. Come; let me
show you the rest.”

“The rest?” Jana and Dillon echoed as they quickly looked
at each other and then back at Willis.

“Yes, the rest. Here follow me.” Willis said nonchalantly
as he made his way down the corridor to where the rest of his unintentional
collection was kept. 

The rest were the causalities. Two were men employed by
Willis Dye that grew careless and were attacked by Tamosia. The third was the
maid that had secretly followed Willis into the remodeled speakeasy and returned
later to free the other two. Now she too was encased behind glass. Scattered
bones and several piles of intestine lie around the floor of the enclosure. She
sat gnawing on a leg bone holding it by one hand. The other arm had been ripped
off at the shoulder.

The attack must have been fierce as her chest was hollow.
Jana realized that the intestine lying around her were her own. As the trio
watched, she threw down the bone and reached for a strand of intestine a few
inches away. She picked it up pulling as the sticky congealed blood held it to
the floor and shoved it into her mouth. Jana turned her head as the zombies’
grunts of pleasure intensified as she chewed on her own intestines. 
grrrrrrrr urgle grrrr ugh ahhh

Jana could instantly see she was Type S, or Slug. Slugs are
the more dim-witted type of the 3 strains and will feast on any type of flesh
and still thrive. Type S will also feed upon their own bodies, eventually
devouring their selves entirely. In groups they will turn upon each other
creating flesh devouring orgies. Unlike Type N, they are
never conscious of what they were eating, flesh was flesh. The only thing
that drove them was the hunt for food. It didn’t matter if the flesh was live
flesh or long dead flesh. They are the type of zombies that would dig into
graves if hungry enough.

Jana had seen enough. Jana had tried to keep one Type S in
her laboratory for research. That one she removed the teeth so it couldn’t feast
upon itself, even though it still shoved its arm into its mouth. It was nothing
more than a pile of rotting flesh now as it constantly threw itself into the
wire mesh trying to reach the other zombies. It literally tore itself to shreds
in the quest to quiet the raging hunger within.