Mark Clodi (18 page)

“No, never that, we can’t, they are out there.”

“Diane, a good wreck and we are done, you know that, the gas will only last so long and I will drive us as long as we can, but we might not make it through even then. You know side streets might be better, if we have to we can always drive up on the lawns or go down a block, we might make it that way.”

“Well lets get up to highway six and see how it is, west is west, right? If we can make it a couple miles west we could back track onto other roads and get through. I bet seventy and twenty are totally snarled up.”

Amelia bit her lip and looked pensive, “Okay, I think that will work, we could take six to Wadsworth or Kipling and then use side streets to get around any accidents. I hope there are no wrecks on any bridges. This is no good Diane, we have no way of knowing which way to go.”

Diane reached out and turned on the radio, setting it on ‘scan’, it stopped a couple times on ‘canned’ stations before stopping on a news channel where a dj was taking calls. The caller was sobbing hysterically, demanding to know what to do, what to do? He hung up on her after a couple of moments, the next call was a man preaching God and hellfire, stating the end of the world had come and all sinners must repent now that judgment was at hand. He too was cut off in mid spiel. The next caller was a woman who was calming asking what she should do, she and her kids were hiding in their house and had seen several zombies wandering the streets outside, she did not have any weapons and did not think her house could stand up to a serious assault by anyone. Her husband had taken the car to work and she had no transportation, anyway where would she go?

The dj responded calmly and said that she might consider opening her doors slightly, maybe making it appear that the house had already been broken into, there were reports that that tactic had saved more than one person before. Then she should take her kids and her self into the attic with as much food and water as she should carry, in fact get the attic squared away first, then ransack the house a bit before hiding. His further advice was just to wait, he was sure the military or National Guard would be on the scene soon.

After that call he gave the station id, the phone number and said that he would take callers with serious questions, he could not accept calls from end of the world zealots, or hysterical people, he was taking calls straight from the phone lines as he was not really a dj, the real one was currently sleeping, and the other people at the station were trying to secure the building as best they could.

Diane had her cell phone out and was dialing the stations number repeatedly trying to get through as Amelia crept her car along towards the six exit.

After about forty five minutes she finally got through. Amelia saw Diane go from a frantic, scared older woman into the dominatrix of steel that she remembered in her few dealings with her at Mac Co.

“This is WWEB, you’re on caller.” said the dj.

“Yes, hi, I am in a car heading down interstate twenty five north, we need to know if interstate seventy west or highway six are clear and how to get through town to Arvada. I can report that there are several major accidents on interstate twenty five, but no people or zombies up on the highway. The accidents block the northbound highway near exit one ninety nine and almost fully block it near the Hampden avenue exit. Can anyone give us advice on where to go?”

The dj paused for a moment, then said, “Okay ladies and gentleman we have a woman in need of assistance, has anyone been out on the highways since yesterday evening? If so how are they? Or has anyone gotten through from south Denver to Arvada? How did you do it? Anything else caller?”

“The zombies are not all slow and shambling like one of your last callers said, they can be very quick and strong too, we ran into one at the Mac Co building where we were holed up for quite a few hours. The zombies, I think they gain strength from eating…eating us, then they move quicker. I have seen this with my own eyes. And they can talk, so be wary of everyone, some might pretend to be ‘alive’ to get close enough to you to attack.”

“Oh-kay caller,” the dj sounded dubious, “The information is out there people, watch out for talking, fast moving zombies. Good information or bad? Call in with road advice and your opinion on the zombie’s speed and voice capabilities.”

The phone clicked and the dj went off the air, but remained on Diane’s cell phone, “What do you mean they can talk? Like they could call me on the phone? Are you serious?”

Diane replied, “Yeah, deadly serious, the one we met refrained from eating us right away, she had some sort of ‘gang’ going and wanted certain members of the gang to eat us. She was also speaking to one of our co-workers through the door, they had a gun, but thought we were all dead, so apparently did not want to risk fighting this…woman for no gain. She spoke to us and to him, told him we were all dead, she lied to him.”

“Shit.”

“What?” asked Diane.

“Double shit. People have been calling, a few mobile types, like you. They had nowhere else to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“I gave them directions on how to get here.” he whispered.

“You gotta get out of there! You don’t know who you were talking to, you need to get out now. How long ago was it?”

“I gotta go.” The phone went dead and music came on the radio, the dj promised to return after a brief moment to refresh his cup of coffee.

Diane held her phone away from her face and stared at it a moment, then looked at the radio. The canned music continued to play.

Chapter 31

Jimbo, felt the tug on his will growing as Fred fed on the mother they had found defending her three kids. No father was present and there was a mini van in the garage, along with an empty space where another car would be parked. Jimbo had taken the first kid they found without a thought, a twelve or thirteen year old brat with a baseball bat. He had slammed the kid down, driving his arm through the bat into the kid’s shoulder, knocking him to the ground, leaving him broken, but alive for Fred. Next had come the mother, not much more of a challenge, she too had a baseball bat, a shorter one, like for little league. Jimbo smacked her in the face, stunning or knocking her unconscious, once he was sure she was down, he turned to make sure Fred was gnawing on the ‘hero’ while he turned towards the other kids, a younger girl and her older brother, who was probably ten or eleven, who knew with kids? Not having any kids of his own Jimbo could only guess at their ages. Both brats were screaming and Jimbo knocked their heads together in a comical way he had seen on a classic episode of the three stooges at some point in his life. That is when they started screaming in earnest. ‘I thought it was supposed to knock them out?’, grimacing he backhanded the little girl, who rolled over and crawled under the bed, he took the boy and bit deep into his young, fleshy neck, enjoying the hot, spurting blood that filled his mouth.

When it was over and his appetite was sated, the girl was hiding under the bed, the mother unconscious and Fred was finishing up the first kid. Jimbo looked at the boy in his arms, undamaged except for a ripped out throat. He knew, instinctively, that he could gain more energy from consuming the flesh of his foe, but he also knew that if he stopped eating now the body would reanimated under his direct control. Sure Nancy and maybe even Fred would have some ability to boss around Jimbo’s creations, but ultimately he thought they would serve him first.

Jimbo waited until the kid started to revive, then pushed the savage zombie beast towards his former mother. The kid started in on her feet and Fred, done with the first one, started in on the other end. Disgusting. Jimbo was feeling much, much stronger. ‘It is in the blood.’, he thought, ‘Whatever makes us come back is in the blood, it gives us life now.’ He made sure the mother was eaten, and damaged enough to not revive, same with the older kid. Then he turned towards the bed. The girl had to be younger, six, maybe seven. Not too strong, probably less upkeep, but hey, Jimbo could not make everyone into zombies.

Once the mother was finished, Jimbo grabbed the boy, who was still half wild and together they flipped the bed over and grabbed his paralyzed sister. Fred tried to butt in on this treat, but Jimbo backhanded him. Then Fred concentrated and Jimbo could feel the ‘pull’ urging him to get the fuck out of Fred’s way. Jimbo squared his shoulders and spoke to Fred, “Not. Yet. We will get you up and running, but give this one to the kid and I so I can get stronger, like you mister ‘kid and half a mom eater’, and so the kid can at least get as strong as you are. As a team we are better off having the same amount of power than having one super strong member. I won’t be a Nancy on you and won’t have you pulling that shit on me either. I rescued you man, so back off this time.”

With apparent reluctance Jimbo felt the pressure compelling him diminish and he turned for his half of the little girl, the boy had drained most of her blood from her throat and Jimbo ended up sitting down to a larger meal than he had anticipated, eating quite a few of the girls internal organs, he had not wanted to really, just felt doing so would give him the most ‘bang’ for his eating experience. By the time he was through the boy was sobbing. ‘Fuck’, thought Jimbo, ‘Now I gotta counsel the little brat through this shit?’

“Hey, cut it out.” Jimbo concentrated and tried to get the kid to stop crying mentally, it worked. The boy's mind was almost like a path inside of his head and if Jimbo concentrated he could see where the rows of faint light went, which must be the kid's thoughts, and slowly he could divert them. He was lost in thought over this and become so involved with the process of sorting through the kid’s mind that he lost track of time. By the time he came back to reality he had made the kid forget that his first victims were his former family members, and set it up so that when they left the house, he would think they had eaten the creepy neighbor man and his bully son that the boy had feared for years instead. The boy was almost happy by the time Jimbo left his mind. Fred watched everything from the edge of the room while he gnawed on one of the mother’s legs. He looked much better and Jimbo focused his attention on Fred’s mind briefly. There was resistance there, but he could get through enough to see that Fred was doing some serious thinking about trying to control Jimbo or trying to work with him. Jimbo tried to subtly nudge Fred into the ‘work with Jimbo’ and ‘Jimbo is my savior’ mode of thinking. He thought he was successful but it was so much harder than he imagined it would be.

As a brief afterthought he tried to turn his minds eye inward to examine his own brain. There it was, exposed for the world to see. ‘Fuck’, he thought, ‘what to do about this? I can’t be running around all open to everyone.’ He thought about it for a minute then came up with an analogy, clear cloudless day was what he was seeing in his own head, what he needed was a cloudy downpour or better a heavy fog, so others could not see his thoughts at all. Going with the weather theme he concentrated and slowly saw his mind fog up until he was looking at a storm cloud, with internal eye instead of a clear sunny day. The cloud surrounded his head, obscuring all his ‘running lights’ from view. Better still he was pretty sure if anyone tried to play 'Moses' and part the water vapor protecting his mind, he would know about it. Would it hold against Nancy? He did not know, he suspected it would hold against Fred though. One thing for certain his manipulations had left him hungry again, unusually so, he wanted more food.

“Well Fred, what have you decided? Are we a team or are you going to try and be my master? We are once removed, one of the zombies you created, a real bitch by the name of Nancy, wanted you dead, I saved you and brought you up to strength. You can probably figure out why, I didn’t like following Nancy’s orders. I am pretty sure she can find us if she concentrates hard enough and I would like to have you there to protect me from her when she shows up, waddya say?”

Jimbo knew his manipulations had worked before Fred even answered, almost without thinking he could see how Fred was thinking. He had done it.

“I think I would rather work with you than have to watch my back all the time. Besides I remember Nancy, she was a fake bitch in real life, a hollow core, a true salesma-woman. I never liked her, but she did her job. What did you do to your head and the boy’s and to me?” asked Fred.

“Well, Bobby, he was getting all sobbed up about eating his mom and all, I can’t stand whiny crybabies, so I have fixed him to think this ain’t his mom, right Bobby?”

“What?” came Bobby’s reply, “This is Mr Thompson’s house. His kid had an xbox three sixty and they would never let us play it. Thompson was mean, he yelled at me and I am glad he is dead.” Bobby’s eyes were glazed and unfocused.

“See?” asked Jimbo.

“And me?”

“Well you were trying to make a decision and snapping to judgments, I just, kinda told you to weigh your options. Nothing else. I honestly can’t do anything to you, that took all my efforts and left me starving, I think it is because you are like, my creator’s creator or something.” replied Jimbo.

“Ah. I see. What about you. One minute I though I could almost see or hear your thoughts now I can’t see anything. How did you do that?” asked Fred.

“Well, er, I kinda thought, you know, if maybe Nancy showed up, I would try and make it harder for her to get inside my head. I think I can teach you how to do it too.” In his mind Jimbo was thinking furiously, then a thought came to him. Backdoors. Like in all those computer hacker movies, maybe he could set up a backdoor in Fred’s defenses to give him a chance if Fred and his relationship went south.