Metahumans vs the Undead: A Superhero vs Zombie Anthology (19 page)

“Give me back my life,” Sanderson continued. “Give it to me.”

There’s no getting through to this . . . zombie
, Paul thought.
I hope Max and Simpson get here soon
.

As if in answer to his thoughts, Paul heard approaching footsteps and saw Max and Simpson appear at the far end of the hallway before quickly ducking into the library.

“My life, give me back my life,” Sanderson moaned, marching toward Paul with an eerie menace.

Reaching the end of the lengthy hallway, Paul opened the door there and squeezed inside, bolting it shut behind him. He scanned the room. There was no other way out of this guest bedroom save for the door he had just entered and the window in front of him. Moving over to it, intending to make his escape that way, the door suddenly burst open, breaking from its hinges, as Sanderson pushed through as though it was made of paper.

“Give me back my life. Give it to me.”

There was nothing else for it, and no time for any more thought. Paul took one step back and launched himself at the window, crashing through it and landing deftly on the front lawn, shards of glass raining around him.

What’s that?
he thought.
Up there . . .

In the night sky he saw several large birds flying low, though it was too dark to properly identify them. But they somehow appeared to be . . . vultures?

Noise at the window roused him. He looked up and saw Sanderson about to climb out of the window in pursuit. He took the advantage of the monster’s slight delay, and was up on his feet and sprinting for the building’s front door. He doubted the zombie could pursue at any great speed, but he dared not slow down all the same.

He entered quickly and was in the lobby, the library door visible to his right. He quickly marched for the door.

“My life. Give it back to me.”

He turned and saw Sanderson at the far end of the hallway, now coming straight for him. He rushed into the library and closed the door behind him.

Little good that will do
.

Reaching into his pocket, he removed from it a small remote control device. In seconds, the hidden door to the Lair
—
a wall of bookshelves to the left of his impressive oak desk
—
slid forward and to one side. He ducked inside and the door instantly closed behind him with a mild thud.

Even as experienced as he was, he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. The secret doorway to the Lair was thicker than the door to the most impregnable of bank vaults. There was no way anyone, not even a powerful zombie, could get through there.

“Chief,” Max cried. “I sure am glad you made it.”

Paul descended down the small, oval elevator and soon joined both Max and the butler Jonathan Simpson in the main area of their stronghold.

“I, too, am very glad to see you safe, sir,” Simpson said.

Paul placed a hand on each of their shoulders and smiled.

“That couldn’t possibly be the . . . I mean, the original . . . chief, uh, Chief?” Max said.

“It appears so,” Paul said, “though I have no idea how that is possible.”

“We . . . we buried him here on the grounds,” Max mumbled further. “In unconsecrated ground.”

“Get a hold of yourself, Max,” Paul said sternly. “Do you think this could have anything to do with that monster Orcus, whom we fought some time ago? It was able to raise the dead in its mad quest for universal domination.”

“I . . . I don’t know,” Max said, calming a little. “Anything is possible, though I thought all you heroes vanquished that demon?”

“I thought we had, too. But then . . . wait a minute.” Paul stopped short. “Outside, out on the front lawn. There . . . there were some very large birds up in the sky, circling over the city. I couldn’t make them out fully in the dark, but they seemed to me to be vultures.”

“What?” Max said. “But that’s not possible, not here in the city.”

“And yet, I feel sure that’s what they were.” Paul moved over to the main chair at the communications terminal. “Could they somehow be . . .?”

A beeping from the computer in front of them interrupted him.

“Yes,
Leena
.” He paused to listen. “Good heavens. Are you and Janet all right? Can you get safely to your car? Good. Get Janet over to the police station, then get back here as quickly as you can. But, once here, be careful. I’ll make sure the coast is clear here when you return.”

“Don’t tell me,” Max said under his breath, after Paul had laid down his headphones.

“Yes,” Paul said, “this seems to be a widespread problem. Zombies, all through Metro City.”

3

Leena
placed her makeup compact communications device back into her purse, making sure Janet, who was already seated in the car, did not see the dual device.
Leena
had contacted Paul the instant she had bundled Janet into her Mini and advised him of the situation there. Now she wondered what awaited her at home. The thought chilled her.

“Is everything okay?” Janet asked, rolling down her window. “
Leena
, watch out!”

She turned and saw a group of zombies, all as emaciated and foul-smelling as the rest, marching straight for them. She jumped into her car and made sure the central locking was activated. Janet quickly wound up her window.

“What are those . . . things?” Janet spluttered. “And, that one in the library. You . . . knew her?”

“She was a colleague, my old supervisor, before you joined us,”
Leena
said. “She died in the virus attack on Metro a couple years back.”

“Died. I . . . I don’t understand.”

“Zombies, Janet. I don’t know how, or why, but they’re here and
we
have to get out of here.”

Without further word,
Leena
gunned the little car to life, and sped past the looming, lifeless creatures, their arms still spread in menace.

Making their way through the city streets at high speed, the situation soon became even grimmer as innumerable zombies filled the streets, causing chaos at every turn. They chased innocent people, some entering and exiting various buildings, others attacking men and women, attempting to devour them. It was sheer, horrendous madness;
Leena
swerved the car wildly left and right to avoid the deadly creatures. Even then, she could not help but plow into a few, their limbs being flung up and over the car from the impact. There was little blood, for most of the re-animated had clearly been dead for quite some time.

“I can’t take you home, Janet. It may not be safe there. I’m heading for Metro Police Plaza.”

“But . . . but my husband, John. And my kids.”

“Hopefully these creatures haven’t yet hit the suburbs. Either way, the safest place for you is with the police.”

Wishing she was able to help all those suffering around them,
Leena
nevertheless did as Paul instructed, and drove as quickly as she could toward police headquarters. At times, both zombie and citizen alike jammed the thoroughfares, causing them to
zig
and
zag
suddenly to avoid them. Within minutes, though, they had made their way to the safety of the police plaza. Indeed, armed officers had cordoned off that section of the street, already well aware of the threat the city now faced.

“You’ll be safe here,”
Leena
said, dropping Janet off, an armed officer helping her from the car. “Tell them about your family.”

“But what about you?” she said, deep worry etched onto her face. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” she said, as officers began to open fire on an approaching cabal of the undead. “I have to go home.”

As she was about to gun the car back out into the city, against the fervent wishes of Janet and the police, she spotted a flock of very large birds circling overhead.
Leena
blinked, tried to clear her vision.

She could have sworn they were vultures.

“Let’s check the cameras, see if my progenitor is still there,” Paul said.

He sat at the communications terminal in his Lair, with Max seated in the chair beside him, Simpson standing behind them. Paul pressed some keys on the oversized keyboard, bringing to life a series of monitors before them, images from throughout the Sanderson mansion displayed there.

“Still in the library,” Max said, pointing to the monitor highlighting that room of the house.

Sanderson was shown to be there, banging away at the bookshelf door to the Lair, causing a mess, with books lying scattered over the polished timber floor.

“He’s not getting in here,” Max said with some relish. “I designed that door myself. Once it’s locked in place it is nigh immovable.”

“He has a one-track mind, it seems,” Simpson said.

“He does indeed,” Paul agreed. “He’s clearly after us and nothing will deter him from that aim. But with
Leena
on her way home . . .”