The Zombie Letters (41 page)

“Ever since DNA became the science of the day, I have been doing extensive research on these. They are from an island in the Far East. A kind of dense forested area at the base of what used to be a mountain. The locals there had passed on stories that this particular plant had magical properties. They believed that the remote part of that forest was sacred and fearing the wrath of an angry god, they closed it up and refused anyone entry. A long time ago, I heard someone tried to burn the forest down, but some of these plants survived. I managed to get one of the bulbs. These things yield an amazing amount of seeds and can survive without the stalks. I looked into it and with the limited equipment I have here, I found something. The extract of the plant seems to have a reversing effect on wrinkles. Without being able to do more tests in a proper lab, I am stuck.” Theodore walked up to one of the strange plants nearest him and yanked off one of the bulbs. It snapped with a dry crunch, leaking a bright green fluid onto the ground. Theodore reached behind one of the wooden seed boxes and grabbed a large porcelain pot filled with rich dirt. Putting the bulb inside, he handed it to Daniel. Not a squeamish man by any means, Professor Copeland was scared to touch it. He had no idea why. The thing was just so
strange.
It had a weight to it . . . not a physical weight, but some kind of peculiarity that hung to it. Darin was frightened to put his hands near the bulb; expecting it to jump out of the pot and take his hand off.

“I don’t like this thing, Theodore. I want out of this room. Let’s get out of here.”

“What’s wrong, Danny? You look . . . uncomfortable.” Theodore leaned in close to his young friend and handed him the potted bulb. Daniel took it with clammy hands and stumbled toward the door. Theodore spoke to the young professor slowly, making no effort to grant exit out of the room. In fact, the look in his eyes was almost menacing. Theo moved his body in front of the door and blocked it, leaning inches away from Daniel’s face. Daniel’s head swam. He hardly noticed. His vision was getting spotty. All he could hear was the old voice. “I need you to bring it to the guys in the medicinal research area. I need their help seeing what the plant’s extract could do human DNA. I believe we have a breakthrough here. I need this done, old friend. Can you do this for me?”

“Lets get . . . out of this room, Pop . . .” Daniel said as if he were falling asleep. His thoughts seemed distant somehow, lost in the deeply humid air that had now soaked the back of his shirt and made his head swim. This room was too much. It was more than likely the smell mixed with the stifling humidity in that room. “I want out of here.”

“Of course, my boy,” the old man said with a smile. His tone had changed a bit. He sounded cheery again. The old man that he knew. “Most people cannot take being in here for too long. I guess I’m just used to it.” Theodore opened the heavy metal door and Daniel stepped out, nearly tripping over his own feet. “That is the damndest thing. The second I walked out, I was immediately fine. I thought I was gonna puke in there.”

“The plant isn’t toxic, trust me. The smell is just pretty damn thick. Messes with your senses. I
am
sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Daniel said. “Did you say something to me in there? When I started feeling woozy?”

“Not that I recall,” Theodore said with a friendly pat on the arm. “Oh . . . I see your car has arrived.” They both looked toward the driveway in the distance. The cab was in the driveway, idling. “You’d better go. Please don’t be a stranger, ok? I am an old man here all by myself most of the time and I could use the company. Tell ya what . . . come over next weekend and I will whip your ass at chess just like in the old days, huh?”

Daniel hesitated for a moment and looked back at the greenhouse. “We don’t play in there and you got a deal, old-timer.”

“Great,” he smiled and walked the young man to his car. They said their goodbyes and the car sped off in the distance. Theodore stood at the end of the driveway until the dust-plume behind the vehicle was out of sight at the end of that dirt road.

He walked back to the greenhouse and stepped inside, locking the door behind him. He stood at the breadth of the gigantic man-sized plants and smiled at them. Ear to ear. “Aren’t you just the most magnificent things?” the lone man whispered to them. “All one big family in here, aren’t ya? Well . . . see you babies later. Have a good rest.” Theodore turned off the already dim overhead lights and shut the door behind him. He walked back into the shed and sat behind the desk. Reaching into the drawer at his lower left, he opened the little baggie and rubbed some more of the oil on his face. He could already feel his sunken and sallow cheeks flush. By this time tomorrow morning, his hair will be its normal color again. He held the little baggie in front of his face and spoke to it like a long, lost friend. “How long have we been together now, Archie . . .” the man said alone in his air-tight room. He removed the old file from the middle drawer. The one stamped in black ink. Taped to the inside cover was an old, torn and faded red handkerchief. The old man brought the ancient piece of cloth to his face and breathed in through his nose. He sighed as the musty air that had been locked inside of it filled his senses. It brought back every memory like it was yesterday . . . as if the millennia passed did nothing to dull the long-departed days that were soaked into that piece of cloth. The original smell wasn’t there anymore . . . only the dry and dusty one. Too much time had passed for a scent to linger in a handkerchief like that, but he
could
still pick up that smell in his mind . . . as if time had not dulled it. It was the sense of time itself inside that little torn rag. The aura was inside it. The aura of . . .
her.

The man who now called himself Theodore Cunningham leaned back in his thick leather chair with his hands laced behind his head. He stretched his arms with a pleased grin on his face and reached behind him, using his fingers to find the power button on the old record player. It warbled slowly to life and filled the room with that wonderful, familiar music. The old man tapped his foot on the desk and hummed to himself.

He glanced at his watch. Not quite lunch time yet.

Maybe there was enough time to play a quick game of solitaire.

THE END

TOP SECRET

FOR THE COMMANDER’S EYES ONLY

TO: GEN W. Teel

From; [CLASSIFIED]

Upon reading my requested copy of the Quatar memo, I would be most interested in these findings. As you know, research ongoing for [CLASSIFIED] is making leaps and bounds as far as controlled study of foreign biological contaminates of an [CLASSIFIED].

We truly feel that despite the tragic loss of life, the losses of our valued scientific research teams in Antarctica as well as in Quatar were not in vain. Per your approval, I would like to continue with the operations set forth previously.

-Director [CLASSIFIED]