Dying Days 3 (19 page)

The house above them was creaking as the flames licked the wooden structure.

"I'm pregnant? Already?"

"You are unique, my dear." He released his grip and stepped back. "I am Frank. I rule this world now. But I will let you live as long as you join me. I want to help you grow and teach this child, for someday it will rule in my stead."

Darlene thought she was going to faint. None of this made any sense to her. She was going to have a baby? A boy? John's child?

Frank was laughing and clapping his hands together, oblivious of his injuries. The fire, behind and above him, cast an eerie glow on the scene, the arrow jutting from his neck and his arm sliced up but still operational.

Darlene started to back up and it caught the attention of Frank. "Where do you think you're going?"

She pointed up. "The house is going to fall on us any second. I'm sure you're invincible, but I might not be. Fire or a falling beam would kill me."

Frank nodded and walked quickly to her. "I think the fire will kill us both, and we can't have that. We have a baby to raise."

"Exactly." Darlene didn't know what else to say. She wanted to stall as long as she could so John and Murph could get to safety. It was clear mortal wounds had no effect on Frank, but his mention of fire piqued her interest. She wanted nothing more than to test the theory. "What do we do now?"

Frank grinned. "I'm no fool. You're hoping I'll let your friends go if you sit here and chit-chat with me for a bit, so they can escape. In the grand scheme of things, I don't really care about them. They are just two more fleas in this world. Insignificant to us and the greater glory we will have. Don't you see? You might be more advanced than even I, because you were bit but never died, and lived to tell about it."

"Only time will tell, Frank, right?" Darlene casually moved to her left, putting Frank between her and the fire. The sea oats behind them were engulfed and a chink of the stairs for the house had fallen into the spot, adding fuel to it.

"Exactly." He paced to his right and Darlene moved with him, keeping within arm's length. This guy was creepy, with blood covering his neck and arm, and dripping to the ground. He didn't feel any pain. "This is going to be monumental. We'll need to capture slaves and have them build us a temple, and have human females to help you with the baby. He'll need a name befitting a king, as well."

"It sounds good to me."

Frank looked at Darlene and she thought he was reading her mind and she'd be busted. He grinned again, an evil thing with no real humor behind it. Only hate. "How rude of me. What's your name?"

She smiled and stepped toward him, extending her hand as if to shake. "Darlene Bobich,"

As he took her hand, she suddenly rushed him, slamming a shoulder into him and pushing him into the fire behind them. Frank tried to scramble away but she kicked at him, forcing him back into the blaze. Within seconds, he was engulfed, screaming in agony, as the fire consumed him.

"Darlene Bobich… zombie killer."

Epilogue

His name was Mark, but he didn't like it anymore. He wanted something more powerful, something to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. In a previous life, he was a doctor who'd been bit by the Swedish woman in a hospital in Montreal. He'd died, alone and scared, as the chaos around him took its toll. Mark had crawled into his office, trying in vain to stop the blood flow. He died.

And then he began to walk. And feed. The initial days were a blur, and he had no real idea why he was so far from home right now. He supposed he'd been wandering for months, or maybe years, in a southerly direction. Feeding and evolving as he went.

Was it part of the master plan from God? It seemed like every zombie was heading to Florida and points south, crowding I-95 and the major thoroughfares. And there didn't seem to be any real resistance to them. The living had gone away or joined the dead, and nothing could stop the flow of them as they moved. And they were moving in his direction, which wasn't good. They forced the living away from Florida and Daytona Beach, and now he couldn't find too many of them.

If it wasn't for the weakling, Jeff, he'd be in trouble, but the evil man did his job so well and with such passion it was scary. Mark knew he'd eventually find someone better to use as his gopher but until then the former corrections officer was the right fit.

He knew now he was chosen, and he relished the raw power flowing through his new and improved form. His senses were stunning. He could sit still for hours and listen to the rats in the walls, hear conversations down below on the floor of the Ocean Center, as the women and children whispered and planned an escape they would never get. He could feel the storms as they formed, and any disturbance in the wind outside came to him.

When Mark went down the bleachers, he smiled, because the humans curled up in their cells and looked away from his beauty and presence. He walked slowly and deliberately, sliding up to a cell with two women. "Turn and face me, whore."

When neither of the women moved or looked at him, he slammed his fist on the cage, rattling the bars. "Now."

They both stopped cowering and stood, but kept their eyes on the ground. They were both with child, the dark-haired one on the right farther along. Mark grinned. The idiot, Jeff, had done quite the job impregnating several of the women, and their babies would taste delicious when they arrived. More women meant more children, and more feeding for… Mark.

"What the fuck are you?" the blonde on the left spit out, fear in her down-turned eyes. "You're not like the other zombies."

"Why aren't I?"

She glanced at his smiling face before turning away. "You're another kind of monster. You can talk and think. Yet… I've watched you feed on the living like an animal. What are you?"

Mark threw his head back and laughed loudly, more for effect than because he found her stupidity engaging.

"He's a lich."

Mark stopped laughing and turned to face the man in the cell three down the aisle. "What did you just call me?" He went to the cage and stared at the man, in his forties with wild unkempt hair and a long beard. He wore a bloody lab coat and was actually leaning casually against the cell, not even flinching when Mark came up to him.

"I called you a lich." The man shook his head and smiled. "I guess you never played Dungeons & Dragons in high school."

Mark snickered. "I was too busy having sex in high school. Loser."

"Ha! I know what a lich is, so who's the loser now?"

Mark shot his hand out and grabbed the man by his throat before he had another heartbeat. "I would be careful if I were you. I could end your pathetic life with ease."

"I've no doubt," the man wheezed. "I'm Azrael."

Mark released his grip. "Azrael? Like the cat on the Smurfs?"

Azrael laughed, rubbing his red throat. "That's what I said when she called me that. My actual name is Russ Meyer, but I've been rather fond of Azrael for awhile."

"What is a lich?"

"It's a powerful undead wizard. H.P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard both wrote about them in their stories, as did Clark Ashton Smith in the excellent "Empire of The Necromancers", and my personal favorite, "The Death of Halpin Frayser" by Ambrose Bierce. They are greater than mindless zombies. They have evolved." Azrael looked excited now. "You are the next step in the evolutionary ladder, don't you see? The human race is progressing and changing, adapting into what you have become. Tell me, are there more of you?"

Mark stroked his face and paced away from the human. There were far too many out there, and, with each passing moment, more and more of his kind were altering from mindless zombies into… liches.

He turned back to the cage. "I am a lich." He smiled. "I like the sound of that. Mark the Lich. No… Azrael the Lich."

"I'm Azrael," Russ said.

"Not anymore, fool."

The doors leading to the doorway opened and Jeff entered, carrying the prone form of a young girl. "I got another one, boss."

"Excellent. Put her in an empty cage. You can impregnate her at your leisure."

Jeff hesitated. "She's really young, boss. Her name is Bri."

"Are you afraid you'll be arrested? God will judge you from on high? Please… put her in a cell. And stop calling me boss. I am forever more known as Azrael the Lich."

"I'm not even sure what any of those words mean, boss… I mean… um…"

"You don't need to know what they mean, you idiot. You just need to show some reverence for the one who let's you live and bask in his glory."

"God Complex. Cool," Russ said. "This should be interesting to see it played out."

"I will crush you, human."

Russ shrugged. "You're also human, whether you want to admit it or not. You think because you are evolving you're also developing at a superior level, but in the end you're still going to be known as a baby killer."

The new Azrael laughed. "I'll be known as ruler of this world. Master of reality."

"That was my favorite Black Sabbath album," Russ said.

Azrael closed his eyes and sighed. This was not going as planned. This mere mortal was supposed to be cowering before him, begging for mercy. "Why are you tempting fate?"

"Because you don't really scare me. You're just a big bully. For all your arrogance, you're still a human, and you can't get away from that. You might not take a dump anymore, but you still remember the feeling. You still know what it's like to cry when a chick cheats on you, or when your dog, Fluffy, died. I have a question."

Azrael didn't answer Russ, just staring at him now.

Russ shrugged. "I'll take that as 'ask away.' I want to know if you were a jerk-off before you died, or if you are now a megalomaniac interested in ruling the world."

"I was a doctor, and a damn good one. I drove a Porsche and had a house valued at $1.6 million. A trophy wife and two adoring children. I've won awards and saved more lives than I can count."

"Then what's changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were still alive, did you ever get the urge to eat raw flesh or act so mean when it came to others? Ever killed someone intentionally? Ever had such distaste for your fellow humans that you'd let someone rape women in droves while you watched, bored? Would you even be caught dead… pun intended… with a loser like Jeff here? I can't even picture you sitting in an airport lounge, waiting for a flight to some big doctor's convention in Atlanta with this guy seated next to you, having a cheap beer. What would you talk about? You probably made ten times his salary. And a part of you looked down on overweight Neanderthals like him. Guys who thought they were big shits because they carried a gun. And had a badge."

"I'm standing right here," Jeff said, walking over after putting Bri in a cage. "Let me gut this chump, boss. It looks like he's in bad shape, so I'll even let him out of the cage before I skin him like a fish."

Russ reflexively touched the angry bruise on his chest and shoulder where the bullet had entered and exited.

"You take a nasty shot?"

Russ nodded. "I thought I was dead. I lost so much blood. The zombies were everywhere, and, by the time I came around, it was early morning and everyone was gone."

Jeff spit on the ground. "Shit, I thought you were dead when I found you wandering on Route 1. I should've left you for dead."

"I think your chance to get the upper hand on me has passed, my friend, no matter what our nice friend here decides for either of us."

Russ smiled and Azrael had to return it.

"I like you, and I don't know why. By rights, for talking to me the way you're talking to me, I should let this Neanderthal cut you to pieces. But, I'm also a smart man. I was a doctor, remember? I'm going to let you live for now, but you'll stay behind bars until I deem it necessary to let you roam."

"I can live with that, but with so many of us here, you need to get better at finding us food." Russ pointed a thumb at Jeff. "He's a horrible cook. If you plan on starting a baby mill for your desserts, you might want to think about feeding these women better food. Maybe have Neanderthal raid a pharmacy for some prenatal vitamins and other things. If you want my opinion."

"Nobody asked. If I want your opinion, I'll squeeze your head," Jeff said.

Azrael put his hand up. "Enough. All this petty bickering is annoying. Tonight I will come up with a better plan for my future. The human is right… I need to make long-term moves in order to stay ahead of the weak humans and other liches." He liked that word.

Lich
.

It had power, like he did. It rolled off his tongue. Azrael the Lich pointed at Jeff. "I'll need more women, and more food and supplies for them. Rest up, because starting tomorrow morning your workload will triple. I need to spread my territory and influence." He grinned and closed his fist, shaking it in the air. "My reign of blood is about to begin."