City of the Dead (4 page)

"Where's Frankie?"

"Downstairs. We don't have much time."

"How many are there?"

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"Too many."

"What are we going to do?

Jim shook his head. "I don't know, Martin. I don't know. What about that window over there?"

"I checked it already," the preacher answered. "It's too far to jump and the zombies are waiting at the bottom."

"Damn!" Jim slammed his fist into the wall. Danny flinched, staring at his father in concern.

Martin frowned. "We're trapped, aren't we?"

Jim didn't respond.

"Jim? Tell me now, man! Are we trapped?"

Slowly, Jim nodded.

From below, Frankie shouted, "Jim, if you've got a plan, now would be a good time to share it!"

27 THREE

Laughing, the demon lord Ob looked out through eyes that had once belonged to a scientist named Baker.

Undead carrion birds hovered above him like a dark cloud, blending in with the night sky. The rag-tag paramilitary group was decimated, beaten by Ob's superior forces. The remains of burned-out tank husks and other vehicles littered the blasted landscape. Wisps of curling, oily smoke still rose from a few, the former inhabitants smoldering inside them. Inanimate zombies lay scattered across the ground, each one brought down by some form of head trauma. Dozens more thrashed in the mud; appendages severed, bodies cut in half, destroyed-but still moving. Hordes of the more mobile ones swarmed about the lawn, feasting on the fallen and wounded humans.

Not all the humans were being killed. Ob had ordered several dozen rounded up, stripped of their weapons, and herded inside the complex. They would be questioned as to the location of other survivors and then used for food-livestock. It wasn't that his kind needed to eat-at least, not while in spiritual form. They had

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gotten rid of that flaw eons before. But still, like any other physical life form, they needed energy, and when they took over these empty human shells, that energy was drawn from food. Eating the living served three purposes. It was an affront upon Him, the Creator, the one who had banished them to the Void. It allowed them to convert the flesh to energy while in human form, even without a digestive system, since his kind processed food on a different level. And it served to dispatch the humans' souls, killing them and enabling more of his kind to take over the bodies.

He chuckled. Gnawing on a still screaming human was much more fun than shooting them. But in the end, all the captives-livestock and otherwise-would host one of his brethren.

The battle had been over for several hours now, and the sounds of combat had faded with the vanishing daylight, replaced only by the occasional scream from the living. The dead had inherited the earth, or at least this part of it. The rest would soon follow. If not today, then tomorrow, and if not tomorrow, then soon. Unlike his kind, humans were not immortal. Eventually, they would die. That was all it took. Ob and his brothers had waited millennia to exact their revenge. If necessary, they could wait a little longer. It was less amusing that way, but it could be done.

He sighed, exhaling fetid breath from lungs that no longer served a purpose.

" 'And when Alexander looked out across his kingdom, he wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer.' Or something like that."

The zombie nearest to him had taken the body of a plump housewife. Gasses swelled its horribly distended

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belly, and the abdomen was slick and shiny. Ob admired the putrescent beauty.

"Who was Alexander?" it rasped.

"He was a human. A warlord for his time-he conquered much of this planet. I met him once when his soul passed through the Void on its way to Hell. On the field of battle, he was a great warrior. Still, in the end, he was just meat. They all are. Nothing but meat. Cattle. Cattle that used to worship us until the One, the Creator, grew jealous and washed the Earth clean with the Deluge."

He approached a pair of captives, a woman and man taken during the assault on the government's research facility. The zombies had lashed them to lampposts in the parking lot. The woman struggled while the man simply stared. Fear had eradicated what remained of his mind. He'd soiled himself. As Ob watched, the man did it again, unaware.

"Speaking of meat..." He leaned over and sank his teeth into the man's quivering neck. He burrowed deep, then jerked his head back. Flesh, veins and thick cords of muscle ripped free. He chewed, relishing the violation.

Dying, the man made no sound. Not a scream or a whimper. Flopping on the pole, he continued to stare while his lifeblood gushed from the wound. The woman screamed for him, her shrieks echoing over the cries of the damned, both dead and living.

Ob swallowed, took another bite, and swallowed again. He moved away, allowing several other zombies to eat their share. All living creatures had an aura and already, this human's life-glow had faded, signaling the passage of his soul. Within minutes, another from the Void would inhabit the empty bag of skin and tissue.

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Ob considered his new body; that of the scientist named Baker. The flesh was burned black, and his midsection was an empty cavity. The charred, gory hole was the result of a point-blank machine gun barrage. The flesh he'd just eaten fell out at his feet. The limbs were still in good shape, but even so, this body wouldn't last long. Ob had rather enjoyed toying with it.

Ob grinned. It was ironic that Baker's own hand had opened the portal to the Void, had broken down the barriers between the worlds so that the Siqqusim could inhabit this world.

He shuffled over to the woman. Brownish-blond hair. Full figure. Pretty, for a human, and her beauty was accentuated by her fear. Her life-glow was strong. It always gave them away-tagged them as among the living. Earlier, he'd seen a pair of humans cover themselves in blood and entrails, trying to blend in enough to mix among the zombies and escape, unaware that their soul's light gave them away.

He smiled at the still shrieking woman and placed his hand over her mouth. Eyes wide, she squirmed beneath him.

"Stop your mooing, cow!"

"May we eat her, too?" One of the zombies smacked its lips with greedy anticipation.

Ob considered the request.

"Not yet." He brought his face close as if to kiss her. She gagged beneath his palm.

"I am going to remove my hand, because I wish to talk with you. It amuses me to do so. However, if you continue to scream, if you insist on bellowing, I will allow my brethren to cut a hole in your belly, fish out one end of your intestines, and begin to eat you, slowly from the inside out. Would you enjoy that?"

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She gave a muffled cry.

"Then silence." He removed his hand.

She gasped. Her eyes darted around. She opened her mouth and inhaled, breasts rising against her bonds. Before she could scream again, Ob held up one finger. The zombie next to him placed a knife against her stomach. She stopped, sagging against the pole.

"Very good. You are learning. Perhaps your kind can be taught tricks, like the canines and felines you domesticate. What is your name?"

"M-my what?"

"Your name? What are you called? Where are you from?"

"L-Lisa. My name is Lisa. I'm from Virginia ..." Tears streamed down her dirty face.

"Liiiissssaaaa." He rolled it in his mouth, savoring the word. "Do you know who I am, Lisa?"

"Yes. I-I think so. You're that scientist guy. One of the girls in the Meat Wagon told me about you. I-I saw you when we were moving out from Gettysburg."

Ob slapped her hard across the face. She yelped, but did not scream, still conscious of the knife at her belly.

"You are wrong, Lisa. I am wearing his body, but I am not the scientist. His name was Baker. My name is Ob. Ob the Obot. Do you know that name?"

Lisa coughed. A red welt in the shape of a hand covered her cheek.

"Do you know that name?"

"I-I don't-"

His fist smashed into her mouth. Drops of blood flew through the air and this time she did scream, could do nothing but scream. He struck her again. When he pulled his blackened hand away, one of her teeth was embedded in his knuckle.

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"OB! DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME? OB! OB! OB!"

"N-no," she sobbed, "I don't know it! Please don't hit me again!"

Ob's shoulders slumped. He turned to the others.

"She does not know of me. Does not know of us. None of them have so far. We are forgotten among them. We are rumors, legends. Nothing more than fairy tales. We are what they used to make their children stay in bed at night. To entertain themselves with in television and film and literature."

He turned back to her.

"We are the Siqqusim, which means 'abominations that speak from the head' in the Hebrew language. You thought us mere spirits of the dead, but we are much more than that. The Sumerians and the Assyrians knew our true origin. Demons, your kind called us. Djinn. Monsters. We are the source of your legends-the reason you still fear the dark in this age of light. We existed long before Michael and Lucifer chose sides with their 'angels.' They were nothing more than inferior versions of us. We were banished long ago, banished to the Void by Him, the cruel one; the one your kind worships still. He lost favor with us, for he loved you better, his final creations."

One of Baker's organs fell out of the empty stomach cavity, dangling by a thread of gristle. Absentmindedly, Ob tore it away, gave it to another zombie to eat and then continued.

"Have you any idea how long we languished there? You cannot fathom it. The Void is cold, so very cold. It is not Heaven, and it is not Hell. It exists between them and does not exist at all. We dwelled there, trapped for eons with our brothers, the Elilum and Teraphim. He

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sent us there! Banished us to the icy wastes. We watched while you scurried like ants, multiplying and breeding, basking in His frigid love. We waited, for we are patient. We lurked on the threshold, ever observant, waiting for the time of the Oberim, what you call 'the Rising.' The Oberim is the crossing of the border between this world and the Void, and your scientists finally provided us with the ability to do so. Their experiment opened the door, broke down the dimensional barriers. Finally, we are free to walk this earth again, as we did long ago, before your kind. It is the ultimate offense to Him-as your kind dies, we replace you here. We reside in your brain. We are the worm that burrows through his creations, these bags of blood and tissue, this ball of water and dirt! And He can do nothing about it, for it was wrought with your own hands. Your bodies belong to us! We control your flesh. We have been waiting a long time to inhabit you. Many of us are here, and many more await passage. For our number is greater than the stars! We are more than infinity! And He can only watch! Watch and weep!"

Snot ran down her face. "S-so, you're doing all of this just-just to g-get back at God?"

Ob sneered with Baker's lips.

"Indeed. That-and our own self-interest. We longed to be free of the Void, of course."

He paused in his thoughts while Lisa squirmed on the pole. The dead body of her companion started to move again. It looked at her and grinned. Its fellow creatures began to loosen its bonds.

"Welcome, brother," Ob said.

"Thank you, lord. It is good to be free."

Ob turned back to her.

"So tell me, Lisa. If you'll pardon my melodrama, do

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you know who we are now? Have you gained an understanding? Did your elders teach you of these things in Sunday school?"

Her only response was a whimper. Ob flung his hands up in exasperation.

"I am attested to seventeen times in the Old Testament! Seventeen! I am Ob of the Obot! I lead the Siqqusim, just as Ab leads the Elilum and Api the Teraphim. Yidde-oni! I am Ob! He who speaks from the head! Engastrimathos du aba paren tares!"

Cursing, he shoved the zombie with the knife out of the way. Lisa relaxed slightly against her bonds. Ob grabbed a pistol from one of the other zombies and shoved it between her breasts.

Lisa cringed.

"If you do not know of us, do not know of the Void, or of Heaven and Hell, then I will show it to you firsthand!"

She screamed.

"I told you to stop mooing, cow!"

He squeezed the trigger and then squeezed it again. And again. And again until it was empty. Only then did he let the weapon slide from his grasp. It clattered on the blacktop.

"Undo these bonds, so that the one who will soon inhabit her may be free."

He stalked away. Something ruptured inside him and dark, noxious fluid rushed from the open cavity in his abdomen, drenching his feet. Baker's body was disintegrating faster than he'd expected.

When the Rising first began, Ob's original host body had been a black Labrador named Sadie, owned by an elderly widow in Bodega Bay, California. Unable to lead the Siqqusim in such a limited form, he'd run amok, desperately seeking the body's destruction. He'd found it

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hours later at the hands of a fisherman who dispatched him with several shots to the head after Ob tore out the throats of his wife and children.

As leader of the Siqqusim, Ob returned to the realms of the living before his brethren. He liked to think of it as head-of-the-line privileges. He also reanimated quicker than the others, almost instantaneously. His second body belonged to a network systems analyst in Gardner, Illinois, and had served him well. The host had been in remarkable physical health and died of suffocation, leaving the body in good shape. Ob still regretted the loss of that one. It ended when a human set the entire town on fire. Ob became trapped in the inferno while crawling through a ventilation duct after some prey.

His third body was a homeless man in Coober Pedy, Australia. The man was already rotting before death claimed him. Ob only inhabited that shell for a day before a human snuck up from behind and drove a pickaxe through his brain.

His fourth had been the body of Dr. Timothy Powell, one of the men directly responsible for freeing his kind in the first place. That body had been dispatched during the recent battle. Now, here he stood, in the body of Powell's superior, Professor Baker. The almost contrived irony was not lost on the demon lord, and Ob wondered if some higher force had a hand in the fact that he'd taken possession of two of the men responsible for his release.