Zombie CSU
OMBIE CSU
Ghost Road Blues
Vampire Universe
Dead Man’s Song
The Cryptopedia: A Dictionary of Weird, Strange,
&
Downright Bizarre
Bad Moon Rising
OMBIE CSU
The Forensics of the Living Dead
CITADEL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corporation
To Richard Matheson, for taking time long, long ago to sit
me down to explain how science and logic can make
everything just a little bit scarier. I still have the copy of
I Am Legend
you gave me. I’ve read it at least twenty times
and expect to read it twenty more.
And, as always, to my beloved Sara Jo.
T
hanks to my agent, Sara Crowe of Harvey Klinger, Inc., and my editor at Kensington, Michaela Hamilton. This has sure been a wild ride.
Thanks to the many experts who provided their insight and knowledge to this rather strange project. Since we’re talking about zombies here, I think we can all agree that their comments do not necessarily reflect the opinions of any organization to which they belong. Any technical errors to be found in the book are purely the author’s doing. The following people have contributed their advice, opinions, and insights:
Allen Steingold, Esq.; Andrea Campbell; Andy Bark; Geoff Brough, editor of
Revenant
magazine; B. Burt Gerstman, M.D., San Jose State University; Bernardo Gutierrez; Bob Fingerman; Bowie Ibarra; Brady Howard; Brian Keene; Brinke Stevens; Bruce Bohne; Bryan Chrz, past president of the American Board of Forensic Odontology; Dr. Bruno Vincent of the L’Institut de Pharmacologie Moléculaire et Cellulaire; Bryon Morrigan; C. J. Henderson; Calvin Watson; Captain Daniel Castro, commanding officer, Philadelphia Forensic Science Bureau; Cass Brennan; Catherine McBride, department lab director, Philadelphia Forensic Science Bureau; Cathy Buburuz, editor of
Champagne Shivers;
Chandra Singh, M.D.; Charles Amuzzie, M.D., African Society for Toxicological Sciences; Christopher Welch; Collin Burton; Combat-Handguns Yahoo! Group; Constance Link; D. L. Snell; Dale Blum, RPh; Damian Gonzalez; Damien Rogers; Dan O’Bannon; Dan McConnell; Daniel Conklin; Danielle Ackley-McPhail; David A. Prior; David Chalmers, Ph.D.; David Chiang; David Christman; David Jack Bell; David F. Kramer; David Moody; David Pantano, CounterStrike Kenpo Karate; Lieutenant David Smith, LAPD Coroner’s Investigations Division; David Wellington; Dena Procaccini; Dennis Miller, LAPD (retired); Derrick Sampson; Detective Michael Buben, Tullytown Police Department; Detective Joseph Sciscio, Bensalem Police Department; Captain Dick Taylor, U.S. Army (retired); Donna Burgess; Donna Sims; Doug Clegg; Drue Russell; Dwane S. Hilderbrand; Edward Dugan, forensic lab manager, Philadelphia Forensic Science Bureau; Elaine Viets; Elizabeth Becka; Ellen Datlow; Eric Gressen, M.D., assistant professor of radiation oncology, Jefferson Medical College; Eric S. Brown; FEMA; Frank Dietz; Fredericka Lawrence, Bucks County 911; G. Harris Grantham; Garden State Horror Writers (GSHW); Gary A. Braunbeck; Dr. Robert Hall, associate vice chancellor for research, University of Missouri; Gayle Brown-Harris; Geff Bertrand; George A. Romero; George Martzoukos; George Schiro, MS, consulting forensic scientist; Greg Dagnan, CSI/Police/Investigations Faculty, Criminal Justice Department, Missouri Southern State University; Georgia Stanley; Greg Lamberson; Greg Schauer, Between Books; Gerald and Kathleen Hill, MJF Books; Gregg Winkler; Harry Matsushita; Horror Writers Association (HWA); Herschel Goldman, M.D.; International Thriller Writers (ITW); J. N. Rowan; J. A. Konrath; J. Curtis Daily, American Board of Forensic Odontology; J. L. Comeau; Jack Spangler; Jacob Parmentier; James Gunn; Jamie Russell; Jane Dalkieth; Jason Broadbent; Jeremy Simmons; Jerome Wilson, NYPD (retired); Jerry Waxler, MS; Jill Hunt and the Baltimore Zombie Crawl; Jim Dolan; Jim O’Rear; Jim Winterbottom; Joe Augustyn; Joe Bob Briggs; Joe DiDomenico, Teddy Scares; Joe Lansdale; Joe McKinney; Joe Student; John Lutz; John Passarella; Jonathan Coulton; Jonathan Santlofer; Josh “the Viper” Gallagher; Joyce Kato, Coroner’s Investigations Division, LAPD; Joyce Kearney, Ph.D.; Judee Tallman; Kanchana Patel, Ph.D.; Karl Gretz, Ph.D.; Karl Rehn, KR Training; Katherine Ramsland, Ph.D., DeSales University; Chief Inspector Keith R. Sadler, Philadelphia Forensic Science Bureau; Ken Bruen; Keith Harrop, ZombieWorld News; Chief Ken Coluzzi, Lower Makefield Police Department; Ken Foree; Kenneth Storey, Ph.D., Carleton University; Kevin Breaux; Kim Paffenroth, Ph.D.; Kyle Ladd, Zombie Squad; L. A. Banks; Lisa Gressen; Lisa Morton; Louis Michael Sanders; Lynn and Bill Koehle; Mark McLaughlin; Mark Rainey; Martin Leadbetter, chairman, The Fingerprint Society; Martin Schöenfeld; Max Brooks; Michael Arnzen; Michael Augenbraun, M.D., Brooklyn University; Michael E. Witzgall; Michael Kelly; Michael Pederson, M.D.; Michael R. Burrows; Michael Sicilia, Homeland Security; Michael Tresca; Mike Segretto; Monica O’Rourke; Mort Castle; Mystery Writers of America (MWA); Nancy Barr; Nancy Kilpatrick; Natalie Mtumbo, M.D.; Nate Kenyon; National Center for Reanimation Prevention and Control (NCRPC); Nicholas Grabowsky; Nick Comeaux; Nick Ladany, Ph.D., Lehigh University; Nick Mamatas; Nicole Blessing; Nicole M. Brooks (a.k.a. The Zombie Cheerleader); Office of Homeland Security; Helen Poland, NP; Chief Pat Priore, the Tullytown Police Department; Patricia Tallman; Paul Tremblay; Pawel P. Liberski, M.D., Department of Molecular Pathology and Neuropathology, Medical University of Lodz, Poland; Pete Hynes; Peter Lukacs, M.D.; Peter Mihaichuk; PhillyGeek Yahoo! Group; Rabbi Michael Shevack; Ramsey Campbell; Raymond Hook; Raymond Singer, Ph.D.; Rene Sampier; Richard F. Kuntz, RN, first deputy coroner, Bucks County; Richard Matheson; Richard V. Greene, Ph.D.; Rick Hautala; Rick A. Shay; Rick Robinson; Robert Kirkman; Robin Dobson, M.D.; Rocky Wood; Russ Hassert, MS; Sam Anderson; Sarah Langan; Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA); Scott A. Johnson; Scott Cramton; Scott Johnson; Scott Nicholson; Sean Gallagher; Shelley Handen; Stephen Susco; Steve Alten; Steve Swickard; Steven Feldman; Steve Vernon; Stephen Jones; Susanna Reilly; Tactical-Rifle Yahoo! Group; Tapaswi Dhamma; Rick Smith, CEO, Taser, Inc.; Tom Smith, chairman, Taser, Inc.; Ted Krimmel, SERT; Thomas Jefferson Johnson III; Tim Waggoner; Tony Finan; Tony Timpone, editor,
FANGORIA
; Tony Todd; Trevor Strunk; United States Department of Justice; Van Nguyen, Ph.D.; Vincent L. DeNiro; Wade Davis, Ph.D.; Walt Stenning Ph.D., former head of psychology at Texas A&M University; Warren Harvey; Weston Ochse; Zach Martini; Yvonne Navarro; and the Zombie Squad. Thanks to the many wonderful bookstore managers and community relations managers who made the tours for my previous books such a joy!
Please visit the official website for the Pine Deep series: www.zombiecsu.com and the website for my official author site, www.jonathanmaberry.com. Visit the MySpace page for the book at www.myspace.com/zombiecsu.
JONATHAN MABERRY
They’re Coming
by Peter Mihaichuk.
“My works are photo-based illustrations, so I’m often inspired by the models I work with. They usually have certain features that call to be exaggerated and pulled upon. In the case of visualizing zombies, it can get quite disturbing when you look at people and automatically picture them as the walking dead—especially when you start to see grandma in a whole new light!”—Artist Peter Mihaichuk
I
was ten when George A. Romero’s
Night of the Living Dead
was released in October 1968. That movie did more than just make an impression on a very impressionable kid. In fact, it’s not an exaggeration to say that movie
marked
me. It took a bite out of me, and I can still feel the scar.
By age ten I’d seen double my share of vampire and werewolf flicks. I’d seen every giant bug flick they’d show during the Saturday double features at the Midway Theater in my hometown of Philadelphia. Two monster flicks, two cartoons, and at least a half dozen movie trailers for thirty-five cents. I’d always sneak in to the front row of the balcony and hunker down with my Hires Root Beer and my big box of Day ‘n’ Nights and watch revivals of old Karloff and Lugosi films, or dig into a tub of popcorn while Christopher Lee put the bite on bosomy rural gals (and I was still young enough to be more entranced by the monsters than the maidens). Or I’d stay up past my bedtime to watch both parts of
Double Chiller Theater
—grooving along with the
Brain That Wouldn’t Die, Monster of Piedras Blancas
, and
The Tingler
. I went a little
Psycho
, hunted with the
Witchfinder General
, learned
Whatever Happened to Baby Jane
, tucked into the
Blood Feast,
visited the
Haunted Palace,
and settled down to patiently
Wait Until Dark
.
But you see, I was kind of a weird little kid, and none of these films actually scared me. In a weird sort of way I was safe with them. The monsters and the monster hunters were friends of mine; we’d play together in the dark.
All that changed when I saw
The Night of the Living Dead
. That was the first movie that truly and thoroughly scared the bejesus out of me.
Vampires I could deal with (or thought I could). Lugosi was cool, but to a kid in mid–Vietnam era 1968 he wasn’t really all that scary. Frankenstein’s Monster was more sad than frightening. The Wolf Man was tragic, and, besides, Claude Raines beat the piss out of him with a walking stick. And don’t get me started on the Mummy. I was an inner city kid—if my buddies and I had seen Imhotep (or Kharis) limping along, wrapped in dusty old bandages and acting all grabby, we’ve have either stomped him to powder or flicked matches at him.
So, when I sat down to watch one of those films you knew—I mean really
knew
—that it was just a matter of time before Dracula tripped over his own opera cloak and fell onto a piece of pointy wood; and come dawn the Wolf Man would go back to being Larry-fricking-Talbot. No matter how bad these monsters were, they had built-in vulnerabilities. And besides, there was just
one
of them. In rare cases (as with Dracula’s brides) there were a few others. We were too jaded to be afraid of that sort of thing.
George Romero changed the game on us, and it knocked the smug smiles off of our faces.
In
Night of the Living Dead
1
all recently deceased people were rising from the grave or mortuary slab to attack the living. All of them. Not to drink blood, not to tear out the occasional throat. Oh no…these things were eating the living…and rather graphically, too.
I remember very clearly sitting in my balcony seat watching that movie and becoming suddenly very aware of how big and dark that balcony was. How far from the lights of the lobby it was. How remote it was.
It was like a hand reached into my brain and turned the dial on my imagination up. All the way up.
It made me think about what I would do if something like that really happened. I’d always worked out scenarios for handling monsters. I’d started taking martial arts lessons when I was six, so by age ten I was pretty sure I was one tough monkey. If a vampire came after me, I knew that all I had to do was grab a couple of sticks and make a cross. If it was a werewolf, I could lock myself in a room (the projection booth had a steel door) until morning. I knew for sure I could outrun the Mummy; and all I had to do to scare off the Tingler was to scream. I was ten, my voice hadn’t broken yet, and I could scream high enough to crack a wineglass.
But if all the dead rose, then what could I do? What could anyone do? How do you outrun hundreds of thousands of walking corpses? Where can you flee where death has never been? How can you outlast something that doesn’t need to go back to its grave at sunrise or won’t change back into a normal guy at dawn?
“Zombies scare me. No seriously, they break every rule of horror. You have to go find most other monsters, but Zombies come to you…and not in ones or twos.”
—Max Brooks, author of
Zombie Survival Guide
and
World War Z
I sat in the dark and thought about how overwhelming a rising of the dead would be, and I got really, really
scared
.
I left the theater and stepped into the chilly darkness of an early October evening. I was only ten years old and my older sisters were supposed to be minding me, but they hated horror flicks and always just dumped me at the box office, knowing that I could walk the four blocks home on my own. Until now this had been a perfect arrangement: I never wanted my sisters around when I had some monster movie watching to do.
On that October evening, however, I would have welcomed all four of my sisters and would probably have wanted to hold their hands. I was
that
scared.
As I raced home, trying to beat full darkness, watching every shadow, I tried to work out how I would survive an attack of the living dead. I worked out a hundred scenarios, a thousand. The numbers were against me, though. If the dead rose, if they were present in such overwhelming numbers, then we’d all be…well…
overwhelmed
.
A thought like that doesn’t fit comfortably into a kid’s head. I’ve since learned that it doesn’t fit comfortably into the heads of a lot of adults, too. There was always a part of me that either
believed
in the possibility of zombies, or wanted to believe. That I grew up to write horror novels and books like this is a surprise to no one.
Not that I wanted humanity to fall down and become sushi for the postmortem set, but it was so darn fascinating. Especially the problem of how to survive the zombie apocalypse.
Then at around age eleven I started reading crime novels, particularly the 87th Precinct police procedurals by Ed McBain. If you haven’t read those books, especially the early ones like
Lady, Lady I Did It, Give the Boys a Great Big Hand, Ax
, and
He Who Hesitates
, do yourself a favor and raid your local bookstore. I devoured these books, and what really enchanted me was the humanity of the main characters. They were cops. Not supercops like on TV, but ordinary guys. A bunch of working schlubs who happen to be detectives chasing down killers in the big, bad city. These books did more than present a crime and offer a solution—the McBain books took you through every step, showed every detail of the process, even to the point of including mock police reports, fingerprint cards, and other “official” forms in the book. What I learned is that no matter how smart the villain, no matter how impossible the case, ordinary step-by-step police work usually paid off in the end. It wasn’t the devil that was in the details, but rather a little fluff from angel wings. This was good guys winning in the end by hard work, doggedness, and most crucial of all,
routine
.
Routine—the use of established procedures, method, and techniques—could give even a Detective Three working stiff a real shot at bagging a clever crook.
That got me to thinking. It kicked off the “what if” process in me.
What if the zombie uprising had started in the fictional city of Ed McBain’s 87th Precinct? Would Steve Carella and Meyer Meyer become zombie lunchmeat, or would they investigate the first zombie killings and work the clues and process the evidence to take them to the source? If they could do that, would they be able to stop the plague before it spread?
At eleven I wondered. I had a lot of faith in cops. At first it was proxy faith given to cops because of the McBain books; but in the decades since, I’ve come to know and work with a large number of police officers and detectives. In the movies they’re sometimes played as buffoons, but that’s more propaganda than fair assessment. No matter what the raw intelligence may be of any given person when he or she joins the department, they are surrounded and reinforced by routine, process, hard science and cutting-edge technologies. Cops are a hell of a lot smarter and more resourceful than most people give them credit for. Our prisons are packed with crooks who thought that they were smarter.
Partnered with investigatory routine is the vast and ever-expanding world of forensic science. DNA testing, gas chromatography, touch evidence, 3-D computer modeling, chemical reagents, electron microscopes—the mind boggles at the technology developed for and available to modern law enforcement.
When I decided to write this book, it gave me a chance to take these two powerful childhood influences—the living dead and their awful potential and the relentless and inventive police investigators—and merge them into a whopping big “what if” project.
As I launched into my research, contacting cops, scientists, medical doctors, and forensics experts, I was delighted but not entirely surprised to find out that many of them had been thinking along the same lines. When I floated the question of how forensics would cope with the zombie threat, instead of getting doors slammed in my face, I got a wide welcome from men and women who, just like me, had sat in the dark as kids and watched zombie flicks and wondered…what if? Folks who, as professionals now in their fields, actually have some answers to those questions.
What if there were zombies? Could the routine and infrastructure of law enforcement and the combined strength of modern science be able to recognize and adequately respond to the threat?
You know…it just might.
Let’s go find out.
