This Plague of Days Season One (The Zombie Apocalypse Serial) (43 page)

“Funny thing. The sister you wished dead had her needles and she’ll survive the entire voyage in fine style. You are
needless
. Amazing the difference a single
s
makes, isn’t it? Soon, you will be without needs, which you’ll find quite a relief after a lifetime of conspicuous consumption.”

Stanhope let out a garbled cry and one of the guards delivered a vicious punch to the prisoner’s groin, doubling him over.

“I think you got them both, Rory.”

The guard gave a helpless shrug.

“Never mind. Small targets. What do you suppose he said?”

“I think he asked what we wanted with him?” the other guard suggested.

“It’s good you caught that, brother. If I had to ask him for clarification, I suppose, on principle, I’d have to send you off to fetch me a nail gun, wouldn’t I?”

Stanhope slumped in misery. It took both guards to hold him up.

“Very well. You’re bleeding on my ship, so I won’t keep you longer. I hereby find you guilty of treason to your race and, more importantly, Earth. You wanted a cabin instead of a container in the hold. You and your family shall have your cabin. It’s quite fine. Your wife and two children will be locked in with you. Since you haven’t had your shots, you’ll soon turn into a rampaging animal with a desperate thirst for blood and meat. This will be an interesting experiment.”

Stanhope looked at her, his eyes glassy.
 

Shiva wasn’t sure he understood her, so she spoke slower and louder. “My hypothesis is you will be driven to bite your family as Sutr Z shuts down your brain and you are driven by the imperatives of your primitive, lizard brain. No need to be embarrassed on that score, Edwin. We all have a lizard brain. As the animal takes over, you will eat your family. Or maybe they’ll fight you off. You can hope for that, though with a couple of little kids in the room, I’d be surprised if you don’t bite at least one of them first. You’re so used to being a
winner
, Edwin.”
 

She leaned close to Stanhope’s face. He flinched and turned his head away. “My guess is, by the time we get half way to New York, you’ll have infected your wife and children. I suspect that, if you had a choice, you’d go after fresh meat. However, in the close confines of your cabin and with no other food source? Only one will be left for the end of the voyage. Maybe you’ll succeed in putting your wife and children out of their misery quickly. Then you can feast at your leisure.”

Stanhope cried harder.

“Don’t worry. If you survive your family’s ordeal in that nice cabin, you’ll see me one more time when I throw you into the hold with all your fine, rich friends. When we get to New York, I shall unleash the surviving animals. It’s time Wall Street got a taste of their own medicine, don’t you agree, Edwin George Stanhope?”

He looked up at Shiva, confused. He’d already forgotten his own name.

Use your rage. Defy the night.

S
injin-Smythe stared at London as the boat rumbled toward the mouth of the Thames. He could see lights on here and there through the city. In other places, the streets were dark for blocks. Screams echoed over London’s stone and concrete. Rage, carried on the howling wind, reached out to him across choppy waves. Only cries of utter anguish could compete with rage.

Aadi came forward and bent over Sinjin-Smythe in the bow.

“Are the girls okay?” he asked.

“Good as can be expected. Dayo is with them. Dr. McInerney won’t look at me.”

“You understand why, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. I’m not an idiot.”

“No. In fact, you did the smart thing.”

“It was the right thing, too, doctor. If I didn’t think it was the right thing, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Yes. I just…we were…”

“You were alarmed at my perspicacity and sagacity.”

“I — what?”

“I saw what needed doing and I did it right away. I have two little girls who are probably alive because I didn’t wait for a debate about a woman who was already dead. She just didn’t know it yet.”

“Yes. Good.”

“I don’t need your blessing, doctor. I’ve got Aasa and Aastha. As long as I have them, you’ll find I won’t need your condescending forgiveness or understanding.”

“Sorry. You’re not what I expected, Aadi. I’m sorry if I was…we’re all just having to adjust to a lot of change very quickly.”

The security guard knelt by Sinjin-Smythe’s side. “From now on, doctor, we learn to live with the Ghost and the Darkness or we die horribly. Do you know the story?”

Sinjin-Smythe shook his head.
 

“In Kenya in 1898, two rogue lions killed 140 people working on a railroad. There were only two lions, but they lived to kill. That’s what the plague victims have become.”

“I feel like we’re more the plague victims now. More so than those…those things.”

“I won’t laugh at you if you call them zombies, doctor. That’s what they look like to me.”

Another shout reached them from the shore. Two of the infected chased a young woman, her long, blonde hair flew behind her like a flag. She screamed for help as she ran. “You! On the boat! I need a ride! Help me!”

Sinjin-Smythe began to stand but Aadi gripped his shoulder. “Don’t even think about it. If we get close, those things will jump on the boat with her.”

Before Sinjin-Smythe could reply, two more men, a woman and a child — zombies all — rushed to meet the fleeing woman. They crashed into her and brought her down.

The things were animals, yes, but as they pinned their victim, Sinjin-Smythe was sure he detected triumph and joy amid the guttural, snarled shouts. The joy of the violators competed with the terrified screams of the their victim. Her screams followed the boat as they swept on and the doctor prayed the monsters would tear at her throat so her suffering would end.

The doctor and the security guard were quiet for some time before Sinjin-Smythe broke the thoughtful silence. “Maybe whatever they’ve become…maybe they are what we always were. What if Sutr just let the lion out of its cage?”

“I can’t believe this is something at all natural, doctor. If I believed that, I wouldn’t have had children.”

“I don’t have a kid. Not quite. If I did….”

Aadi patted him on the back. “If we’re to survive, we must be clever and quick. We have to be smarter than the Ghost and the Darkness.”

“But what kind of future are we fighting for? What are we fighting
so hard
for? To be eaten by monsters or…I mean, what if we survive those things but have to die slowly of something else? How many cardiologists and oncologists are going to make it?”

“You’re a doctor for a start.”

“Not that kind of doctor.”

“And McInerney’s a dentist, so there’s that.”

“You aren’t hearing me, Aadi! If it’s going to be like that,” — Sinjin-Smythe pointed back to where the huddle of cannibals made a horrid meal of their victim — “why survive?”
 

“My answers are sleeping,” Aadi said. He stood to go below with Dayo and his daughters.

Sinjin-Smythe thought of his flat in Cambridge and all his dead friends in the lab. If he’d thought to warn them to get out of the building before he called Merritt at the CDC, he’d have more allies now. All he had left were a few documents, the cruel note Ava left him and the memory stick with their lab notes on the Sutr Virus.

He began to cry again. He thought about what he believed about the human race. He wished he possessed the young security guard’s optimism. But, of course, Aadi had something to live for. Aadi had children so he didn’t have the luxury of self-pity.
 

But Craig Sinjin-Smythe? He who had somehow let a worse variant than the world’s worst plagues loose on the world? At that moment, it seemed not merely self-pity, but only right that he should drop over the side, swim to shore and receive proper justice by tooth and nail.

The doctor pulled out his phone, fished the cell’s batteries out of his pocket and powered up the device.
 

Surely my beautiful Ava is dead by now
, he thought.
 

On a whim, he texted Ava his suicide note.
 

He wrote:
 

To my Juliet: I still will stay with thee, and never from this palace of dim night depart again.

I’m truly so sorry that, whatever you needed, I couldn’t give it to you. I wanted so much more than this for you, for us and for our child. And so it comes to this.
 

The doctor pressed
Send
.

He climbed to his feet, dropped his bag to the deck and stepped to the rail, arms stretched to each side. The wind whipped his long hair and cold fingers pulled at his shirt. He put one foot on top of the rail, ready to dive.

The phone rang.

For more of the Plague of Days Serial

To be continued in Season 2 of

This Plague of Days

Robert Chazz Chute

If you liked this book:

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3. Shout the title from moving cars, buses, planes and trains. (Okay, not planes.)

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This Plague of Days
when it becomes available in September.

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10. Check out the Reader Bonus at the end of this book.

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for the latest apocalyptic news.

Thanks very much for trying out my zombie apocalypse.

There’s much more to come.

About the Author

After several years working in the publishing industry, Robert Chazz Chute took a long hiatus before founding Ex Parte Press. He has a degree in journalism and is a podcaster,
 
award-winning writer, former magazine columnist and features writer. He is a graduate of the Banff Publishing Workshop. He lives in Other London.

Discover other titles by Robert Chazz Chute:

Bigger Than Jesus

Higher Than Jesus
 

Self-help for Stoners

Murders Among Dead Trees

Six Seconds

Crack the Indie Author Code

Write Your Book: Aspire to Inspire

Sex, Death & Mind Control (for fun and profit)

For the latest on all things
This
Plague of Days,
go to
 

www.ThisPlagueOfDays.com

For more information about me, my books and the
All That Chazz
podcast, please visit me at:

www.AllThatChazz.com

For more information about the
Cool People Podcast
podcast visit:

www.CoolPeoplePodcast.com

Fellow writers may also enjoy my writing blog:

www.chazzwrites.com

For media requests, requests for speaking engagements and podcast spots, please email:

[email protected]

Other blogs by Robert Chazz Chute: OnlySixSeconds.wordpress.com and www.DecisionToChange.com

Acknowledgements and Dedication

I’m indebted to the editorial team at Ex Parte Press. Janice Kurita is a great editor. Suggestions from Mark Young, Brian Wright, and Johanna Goldenberg proved invaluable. My graphic designer and friend Kit Foster served as my sounding board. Kit’s enthusiasm and support for my projects is always appreciated. Survival expert and master cartographer John Badger helped plan the course for Season 2 of this series.

Special thanks to the beta teams who gave me early feedback on the advanced reading copies. A tip of the hat to the Johnny, Sean and Dave at SPP for inspiring me to create
This Plague of Days
as a serial. Finally, more banana bread beer for horror author Armand Rosamilia for his support, advice and friendship.

Also?

For Father

Reader Bonus

To the Reader,

The following story is called End of the Line. It is the first piece from my collection, Murders Among Dead Trees. You may consider getting that book, too. Enjoy the sample. ~ Chazz

“Y
ou must listen very carefully,” she said.

“Uh-huh,” I said as I flipped through her file. Every call from a collection agent is meant to accomplish two things: squeeze blood from coconuts and gather more information to squeeze more blood from coconuts. The rule is we can’t call more than once a week and we stick to that rule as long as we’re getting somewhere. We rotate agents so the deadbeats have to tell their sad stories to a new caller every time. Talking about outstanding debt over and over compounds the target’s humiliation. I wanted to be an actor but I’ve been paying my bills by talking to people who don’t pay their bills. My horror, shock and surprise at their failure to pay sounds equally fresh with each call so I guess I act for a living after all.

“You are not listening,” Dr. Papua said.

I tuned in. “Oh? Have you said anything that changes the fact that you owe $382.51?” Never say “about $380” or “about $400.” Always be specific about their debt. It squeezes.

“I do not owe it. I told your colleagues to send me a copy of the original receipt. All you sent me was a letter saying I owed the money but no proof, not even what the purchase was supposed to be. I could make a lot of money, too, if I just sent out random bills.”