Zombologist Book 1 Zombie Hunters (Zomboligist Series) (4 page)

What she said instead, her voice betraying her anger and
disgust, “Your million dollar investment cost the lives of three men, two of
which were fathers. Your trips to South America are well documented by
the
society
. We know where you hunted, what you ate and where you shit. Don’t
underestimate us Mr. Demase. And for God’s sake don’t underestimate the undead,
especially one from the South American jungle.” Jana’s’ hands turned into small
tight fists at her side.

Demase’s cold dark eyes flinched just slightly under her
stare.

 “We would like to see your ‘specimen’, to check the
enclosures so we can make a satisfactorily report back to Peter and
the
society
. Where is it Mr. Demase?” Dillon asked as softly and politely as he
could. Jana knew him well enough to know he was just seething behind that
charming smile.

 “I believe this meeting is over. I will have my security
guard escort you out. Ms. Jones a pleasure. Mr. Parks” he said and with a slight
nod of his head he abruptly turned and walked out of the room.

As by magic Mr. Ugly entered by a side door neither had
noticed earlier. He walked over to the sliding doors and gestured them outside

 “Well, that went well’ she said under her breath as they
were being escorted off the veranda toward their rental.

“Oh boy, only two more of these to go” Dillon said with a
small upturn of his eyebrows.

“Let’s just hope the next two are a little less arrogant!”
 

“And a little more cooperative.” Jana shot back.

But, the next day in California resulted in more
disappointment and an additional collector. Not only did they encounter more
hostility but their visits didn’t result in seeing any of the newly captured
Zombies.

The newest collector, an unexpected lottery winner, danced
around their visit and then bowed out completely at the last minute. 

The following two scheduled visits were even more
disappointing than Demase’s and even less cooperative.

Jonathan Evans flatly denied that he had made a purchase,
as if
they
really existed, he said with a laugh that had come up flat.
Jana thought he looked scared. For a man with such wealth and power jet-setting
all over the world, joining forces with the world’s wealthiest elite, the man
looked very frightened indeed. 

Conrad Burns, a fat wheezy little man of 65 who managed the
portfolios of Hollywood’s most talented, was much more hostile who threatened to
throw ‘the meddling duo’ into the cage with his new ‘pet. He screamed that
the society
would “
never get their filthy hands on his little pet
.”

Arrogant, smug, son of bitches.

Zombies for the rich and famous.

Go figure.

Jana punched her code into the electronic keypad and with a
whoosh; the door slid opened exposing an enclosed walkway that separated the
garage and the main house. She walked the length quickly, trying to get the trip
and the frustration out of her mind once and for all. At the end of the walkway,
once again she entered her code before entering the house.

The place was locked down tighter than Fort Knox and a hell
of lot more secure.

A girl can never be too careful.

****

Curt finished grooming his black steed, Thunder. He slapped
the now glossy horse on the rump and sent him cantering into the pasture beyond.
Thunder was gone with a sideways glance back, a whiney and a backward toss of
his head. Curt laughed out loud at the horses antics.

“Yeah, and the same to you Thunder!”

Stepping from the barn, Curt looked out onto the Mountains
that surrounded his small piece of paradise.  There was already snow in the top
range and Curt knew it would stay there until well about July of next year. Snow
came early into the higher elevations and it didn’t leave quickly.

The air still felt warm upon his weather beaten skin as he
plucked a long-stem weed from the ground and stuck it between his teeth.

Curt loved the silence and the feel of the wind on his
face. He raised his face up into the warmth of the sun and closed his eyes. In
the far distance he heard a screech of an eagle. He opened his eyes and scoured
the mountain range. Yes, there. High above she flew, wings outstretched, soaring
high on the turbulent winds. Curt stood watching the magnificent and graceful
fanning of her wings as she flew higher.

 The stillness was momentarily broken as the faint ringing
of a phone reached his ears. He was in no hurry to answer it; if it was
important enough they could call back. That was his philosophy and the hell with
anyone who couldn’t understand that.

Damn annoying phones anyhow. His ex-wife Patty wanted a
phone when she moved out here into ‘the wilderness’ as she called it. She also
wanted internet access, a fancy car and the good life. She never got the car but
he did decide a phone and Internet might be a useful tool to staying in touch
with both of their families. She with family in Florida and he with the family
he left behind when he packed up and headed to Wyoming in 87.

His baby sister Amber and his mother Elise were still in
Pennsylvania, some 2000 miles east. Amber was doing okay, married a Civil
Engineer and was raising some kids. At least that’s what she told him in the
last birthday card she sent him in June.

His mother, on the other hand was not doing so well. She
was in a nursing home in Altoona, Pa. She had begun to show signs of Alzheimer’s
in her early 70’s, and the years of smoking had taken its toll.

Amber called before spring last year when his ex-wife and
he were still together and told him about their mother’s health. Elise had
become a burden to her, trying to raise children while chasing your naked mother
down the street was fraying her nerves. Even though they didn’t talk often, they
did so with affection and decided to place her into a nursing facility that
specialized in Alzheimer’s care. 

Curt flew out to Pa to help his sister and finished up
early. When he returned to his small ranch, he found a strange pickup in his
drive and his wife in a disheveled mess. Upon further investigation he found a
young half naked man hiding in his closet. He sent them both packing and started
drinking. After waking up one morning in the county jail, not remembering how he
had gotten there, he realized that she and the heartache was not worth it. He
did a month long outpatient treatment program that drove him crazy and gave up
drinking all together. He still went to AA regularly and had felt like a million
dollars since.

That wasn’t the first time Curt had gotten into trouble
with drinking. He seemed to fall into the drinking routine quite frequently and
easily.

When he was younger he had gotten into several bar fights
in his small hometown back east and wound up doing a few months jail time. He
got out and swore he was done drinking and wanted a new life. So he packed up
and moved to Wyoming.

Several years and several women later he fell back into bad
habits and ended up with a DUI. Being young and with a briar up his ass, the
judge told him that he would let him go with a fine but he needed to get himself
straightened out or spend some serious time in prison. The judges warning worked
for a full year until once again another DUI sent him back to jail, this time
the judge sentenced him for three months.

Then, just one day out of jail Curt got busted yet again;
this time for driving under suspension and another DUI. The judge didn’t like to
be made a fool of so Curt spent a year in jail this time. That was in 2009.

He didn’t drink after that release. Enough was enough. One
year gave him plenty of time to dry out and think. He landed a good job and
bought this place beside Carter Mountain with fresh air and beautiful mountain
views. He spent several years restoring the old homestead cabin, barn and
corrals. It wasn’t until he met Lisa that he realized how lonely he had become.

She set his heart on fire with her wild and brazen ways.
She was completely modern and what his friends at work considered “high
maintenance.” But Curt didn’t heed their warnings and ended up marrying her
anyway. He got the phone and the Internet but just couldn’t financially swing
the new car. He began to see that his simple life was not exciting enough to
Lisa and slowly began to see the signs. He knew she would eventually leave him.
But for some reason, he never expected her to cheat on him in his own house. He
just expected her to be gone one day after he came home from work.

Curt shook his head and let out a deep breath that he
didn’t know he was holding. ‘Never again.” he whispered into the Wyoming wind,
“Never again.”

Curt headed toward the house, head bent and aching from the
memories. His cowboy strut kicked up the dirt as he walked.

Just as he started up the steps his phone began to ring
again.

“Damn” he muttered under his breath as he swung the screen
door open. With a slight hesitation he picked up the phone.

“Mr. Colby?”

“This is he.”

This is Twyla Harper, from Garden Estate Care Center?”

“Yes?”

“It’s your mother Mr. Colby. I’m afraid her health has
taken a turn for the worse. You may want to come.  I’m afraid she doesn’t have
much longer.” said the pert, sterile voice on the other end of the line. Curt
imagined a pointy nosed, thin as a rail, spinster woman of about 120 owned that
voice.

“How long?” Curt bit back the sound of annoyance and
quickly chastised his self for it. After all, this was about his mother.  

Get to the point lady.

“Maybe a week,” replied the brisk, emotionless voice.

“Alright.” Curt ran his hand through long strands of thick
black hair, knocking his cowboy hat to the floor. “I will leave first thing in
the morning; I’ll be driving in from Wyoming and will be there as soon as
possible. Please tell my mother that I am on my way.”

“I will let her know you are coming. Thank you Mr. Colby,
Goodnight.”

She disconnected without waiting for a reply. Curt hung up
the phone, picked up his hat from the floor and replaced it on his head. He
grabbed a cold soda from the fridge and scuffled out onto the porch.

Curt sat in his favorite wicker chair, worn cowboy boots
resting on the rail, cowboy hat low over his face, staring at the Wyoming sky
for a long time.

****

Saturday Morning East Coast

Jana Jones woke and flung the covers aside
.
Despite the tough time she had in California, she was feeling refreshed and
energized. She couldn’t help but wonder what made the west coast collectors more
hostile and asinine than their east coast counterparts.

As she headed downstairs to make coffee, she heard the
familiar sounds of a lone chain saw and the rapid pop, pop, pop of a gun. It
wasn’t unusual to hear someone cutting firewood this time of year or shooting
off a few rounds. Many of the locals had firing ranges on their property or
liked to pop off a few empty cans before breakfast.

That’s why she liked this area so much. There was no real
police force and the neighbors were all sort of crazy. They minded their
business, not yours. And for Jana, that was something priceless.

She wasn’t sure how Mrs. Sully, owner of the little mom and
pop shop down the road would feel if she knew what Jana had in
her
basement.

And, Pastor Michael at the Baptist Church… why, he would
call down Heavens fury if he knew that she had the equivalent of the devil
reincarnate under the microscope. Jana giggled at the thought.

Today she would call Peter with her West Coast assessment,
not favorable by the way, and finish up some random work on the anti-serum.
Tomorrow she needed to get ready for her daughters return.

Jana loved her work. She was a world leading authority on
ancient civilizations, but much of her knowledge she didn’t share with the
world. It was her private research into the ancient history of Zombies that held
her interest and kept her going. The only people she shared her knowledge with
were members of
the society
.

She loved traveling the world, doing her research and
listening to the ancient folklore and stories buried deep within cultures and
not found in any books. Finding those little gems on hidden tribes deep within
the South American and African jungles; watching and participating in the
rituals and magic fascinated her. She was only one of a small group that had
gotten close to several tribal groups.

Her daughter knew about her work. She also knew she studied
Zombies but didn’t know how far the fascination spread. Max wanted to study the
dead too and help in the research to find a workable cure. As long as the rich
wanted to collect Zombies, the threat of a major outbreak grew.

 
Jana never pushed her into
it. She would rather let Max have a normal life and use her medical knowledge
for a cure for something for the living instead, cancer perhaps. She didn’t want
her to get caught up in the possibilities of a major outbreak. Or even fear for
her safety. But to know the truth Jana thought was the best defense. Jana shared
everything with her daughter.