The New Dead: A Zombie Anthology (19 page)
Read The New Dead: A Zombie Anthology Online
Authors: Christopher Golden
Later, just before midnight, I asked her what she’d found as she continued searching the big houses on that street. Her hesitation was just too long for me to ignore, and she would not meet my eyes. But when she said ‘Nothing,’ I nodded and let it stand. For then, at least.
That night in bed, we began our future together. It was beautiful and intense, and I think the passion came more from our continuing freedom than anything else. I should have felt guilt, but there was none, because the past was now so far away and obscure that it felt like someone else’s memories. Maybe in the daylight things would be different, but then it felt so right.
Afterward, lying in the dark listening to a silence that would become the norm, she told me.
‘I found her,’ she said.
‘I know.’
‘In the last house. I nailed the doors shut.’
‘Good.’
‘So . . .?’
‘Tomorrow, yes. We’ll go and set a fire.’
I did not sleep at all that night. The fear was there that we had left it too late, and I listened every second for sounds that did not come - the creaking of footsteps on the stairs, the low grumbling of my wife come to berate me and regain my heart.
Even though she said nothing, I knew that Bindy remained awake as well. She was looking after me.
Dawn brought the smell of burning from afar, and we went out together to finish cleansing our town.
LIFE SENTENCE
BY KELLEY ARMSTRONG
Daniel Boyd had overcome many obstacles in his life, and mortality was simply the latest challenge. He’d been born into an illustrious family of sorcerers, own - ers of a multinational corporation. Money and magical powers. The proverbial silver spoon . . . or it would be, if your father hadn’t screwed the company over and gotten himself - and his sons - disinherited. But Daniel had surmounted that barrier, and so he would with this one.
‘We’re heading down to the laboratory,’ Shana said, her voice coming through his computer speaker. ‘It’s underground, so let’s hope we don’t lose the connection.’
They’d better not, considering how much Daniel had paid for the equipment. He leaned back and watched the screen bob as Shana descended the steps, the camera affixed to her hand.
The doctor had given him the death sentence two weeks ago. Inoperable cancer. Six months to live. Daniel didn’t accept it. He had money, he had power, he had connections; he would find a way to commute this sentence. So he’d begun his search, delving in the black market of the supernatural world.
Shana finally reached the underground Peruvian laboratory. As much as Daniel wanted this cure, he wasn’t flitting across the world to get it. There was no need to when he had Shana.
She was, as he’d always said, the perfect assistant. Loyal enough to follow orders without question. Astute enough to anticipate his every need. Attractive enough to make everyone presume he was bedding her, and smart enough never to correct that presumption.
She’d been with him for six years, and he didn’t know what he’d do without her. Luckily, he didn’t need to worry about that.
‘Still there, sir?’ Shana asked.
‘I am. Audio and visual working fine.’
A man’s face filled the screen, coffee-stained teeth flashing. ‘
Hola
, Mr Boyd! I’m delighted that you’ve taken an interest in my studies. May I be the first to welcome you to—’
Hola
, Mr Boyd! I’m delighted that you’ve taken an interest in my studies. May I be the first to welcome you to—’
‘I have a meeting in twenty minutes.’
‘Of course. You’re a busy man. I mustn’t keep you—’
‘No, you mustn’t,’ Shana said. ‘Now, this is the lab, I take it?’
The camera panned a gleaming, high-tech laboratory. Dr Gonzales was funded by a European cabal that wouldn’t appreciate him double-dipping with another client, but he’d been unable to resist Daniel’s offer.
Gonzales walked to a table full of beakers and tubes and started explaining how he’d distilled the genetic component.
‘Not interested,’ Daniel said. ‘I only care about the end result.’
‘You can send the results to me,’ Shana said. ‘So our scientists can check your procedures.’
‘Yes, of course. Well, then, on to the subjects.’
The screen dimmed as they returned to the hallway. Daniel answered three e-mails while they walked and talked about the cure. It wasn’t a cure for cancer; Daniel had realized early that was a Band-Aid solution to avoid tackling the underlying problem of mortality.
Vampirism seemed the best solution. Semi-immortality plus invulnerability. But as it turned out, the process of becoming one was far more convoluted than he’d expected and promised only a 20 percent chance of success . . . and an 80 percent risk of complete annihilation of life and soul.
Most vampires, though, were hereditary, and therein he believed lay the answer. After some digging, he finally found a lead on Gonzales, a shaman who claimed to have isolated and distilled the genetic component that would make anyone a vampire, for the right price.
‘Sir?’ Shana murmured.
He glanced at the screen to see what looked like a hospital ward. He counted eight subjects, varying ages, all on their backs, unconscious, hooked up to banks of monitors.
‘We began clinical trials five years ago, starting with rhesus monkeys—’
‘Could you tell us about these subjects, please,’ Shana cut in. ‘Have they completed the trial? How much attrition did you experience? Have you managed to induce invulnerability as well as semi-immortality?’
‘They’ve all completed the procedure. We had two subjects whose bodies rejected the infusion. One survived. One did not. As for invulnerability, naturally, that is part of the package—’
Gonzales stopped as Shana stepped up to a sleeping subject.
‘—though it hasn’t been perfected yet,’ he hurried on. ‘It will be, though.’
Shana wrote something on her tablet notebook. Sweat trickled down Gonzales’s cheek.
‘Why are they unconscious?’ she asked, still writing.
‘We had some difficulty finding willing subjects, and while I’m sure they’ll be pleased with the results, we thought it best to . . .’
‘Ease them into the reality of their new life.’
His head bobbed. ‘Yes. Exactly. Thank you.’
‘Wake one up.’
Gonzales stared at her. Then he looked into the camera. ‘When Ms Bergin speaks, she is speaking for me,’ Daniel said.
Gonzales blathered on about the danger of reversing an induced coma. Shana set the camera down so he could speak directly to Daniel, then she walked away, as if giving them privacy. She walked behind Gonzales, quietly opened a medical cabinet, took out a syringe, and scanned the bottles before choosing one. Daniel smiled. The perfect assistant. Always resourceful. Always anticipating his needs.
As Gonzales continued, Shana filled the syringe, stepped up to the nearest subject, and plunged it in.
The man bolted upright, gasping and wild-eyed. Not unexpected, under the circumstances. The screams were. Unearthly shrieks filled the lab as the man grabbed at his skin, fingers and nails digging in, ripping, blood splattering the white bed, the white walls. Gonzales radioed for help as he ran to the medicine cabinet.
Shana walked over to the camera, then glanced back at the subject, still screaming and rending his flesh as if acid flowed through his veins.
‘Well, now we know why they were sedated,’ she said, and turned off the camera.
One didn’t reach Daniel’s position in life by giving up easily. Yet neither did one get there by clinging to hope past all reasonable bounds. He spent another month researching promises of vampire life, then gave up on that particular cure.
‘They’ve been making huge strides in zombification lately,’ Wendell said, between bites of his Kobe burger. Wendell was Daniel’s second cousin, a VP in the family cabal. Relations with his family had greatly improved a decade ago, coinciding with his own company’s appearance on the NYSE. An independently successful Boyd could be useful to the cabal, and Daniel felt the same about them.
Wendell swiped the linen napkin across his mouth. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘I heard. I’m ignoring it, having no overwhelming desire to spend my eternity in a state of decomposition.’
‘Oh, you don’t rot forever. Eventually the flesh is gone and you’re a walking skeleton.’ He leaned over to thump Daniel’s shoulder. ‘I’m kidding. Well, not about the rotting part, but for years, scientists have been working on curing that little drawback. We had our own R & D department working on it for a while, before we decided it was simpler to monitor the independent guys, wait until they’re done, then buy the research.’
‘For zombies?’ Daniel’s lip curled with distaste. The server - thinking he didn’t like his meal - rushed over, but he waved her away.
‘Sure. Think of the applications. We’ve got a lawyer on his deathbed right now. Guy’s been with us almost fifty years. A wealth of information is about to disappear. We could change that.’
‘Huh.’ Daniel tore off a chunk of bread and chewed it slowly. ‘You have any names?’
‘Not on hand. I can get them. If this works, though?’ Wendell smiled. ‘Biggest favor ever.’
Biggest favor ever was right. Savvy businessman that he was, Wendell had known exactly how much his information was worth. If it worked, he wanted a new job - with Daniel’s corporation. That was fine. Wendell would make a good addition to the firm. Besides, if he had a stake in Daniel’s continued survival, he’d make damned sure he gave him every contact the Boyd Cabal had. Plus, if it worked, he’d be able to swoop in and snatch up the research from under the cabal’s nose, in which case, Wendell wouldn’t have a job anyway . . . and might be in need of the immortality solution himself.
Wendell got Daniel the names, and Shana started making the appointments. The first was with a whiz kid half-demon who’d recently parted ways with a renowned researcher and had accidentally walked out with the man’s work, which he’d refined and was now prepared to sell.
Daniel sat in the boardroom as the kid gave his spiel, Shana hurrying him along with reminders that Mr Boyd was a very busy man.
‘Your time is valuable,’ the kid said. ‘Especially now, huh?’
He grinned. Daniel and Shana remained stone-faced.
‘I believe you brought a test subject?’ Shana said. ‘One you have successfully transformed into a zombie.’
‘Right. Yes. He’s in the . . . Just hold on.’
The kid hurried from the room and returned with another college-age kid. He walked a little slowly, and his face was paler than Daniel liked, but at this point, he wasn’t being fussy.
‘How long has it been since you turned him?’ Shana asked.
‘Three months.’
‘Any side effects?’
‘His reflexes are a little slow, but we’re working on that.’
Shana motioned for the subject to turn. He did a 180.
‘He’s breathing,’ she said.
The whiz kid smiled. ‘Yep. Breathing, got a pulse, eats, drinks, just like a living person.’
‘Impressive.’
‘Does he talk?’ Daniel asked.
‘Sure,’ the zombie said. ‘What do you want me to say?’
‘Recite the multiplication tables, starting at six.’
As the zombie performed, Shana eased behind them and removed a gun from her purse. She hesitated, just a second, but at a look from Daniel she nodded and shot the zombie in the back. He fell, gasping and clutching his chest. The whiz kid stared, then dropped to his knees beside his subject, who was bleeding out on the floor, eyes glazing over.
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