Zombie Kong - Anthology (24 page)

The scenario played out all over again.

By the time Doctor Reason and Harold Clemmons—the staff member with the gaping hole in his throat—were secured, over a dozen people were injured.

Nobody expected the injured to suffer the same fate that night.

As people slept, the injured died. Odd, considering none of the injuries appeared serious.

Worse, nothing seemed to be able to bring down the walking dead.

Rachel had seen one of them shot with a flare gun at point-blank range. The casing lodged in the man’s gut. The smell––

A scratching, pawing, pounding on the thick, metal double doors to the Athens recreation center made her jump. One of
them
was outside the door.

How was she going to make it to the plane?

3

“Fuel it and I’ll meet you shortly.” Brett opened the cargo hatch and pulled out a footlocker.

“How long you gonna be, boss?” Vic asked.

“Long as it takes,” Brett shrugged. “Something’s not right here…” His voice trailed off as a peculiar sound wove itself into the edges of the howling wind.

A pair of dark figures stepped away from the shadows of the closest building, slowly making their way against the wind towards the landing strip. Brett flipped open the trunk and pulled out his silencer-fitted Beretta.

“May as well start now.”

“Didn’t you say something felt wrong here?” Vic placed a hand on Brett’s arm.

“Yeah. So?”

“They don’t look dressed for the weather.”

Brett took a closer look. Sure enough, neither of the approaching figures wore a stitch of exposure gear… not even gloves. Maybe that explained the pained, awkward way they fought through the wind and swirling ice crystals.

What happened to this place?
he wondered.
Did something go wrong when the ice separated?

Oh, well. Perhaps the clean-up job will be easier.

He fired three quick shots into the center of mass of each body.

They barely twitched.

“What the—”

The two figures stepped into the light, one of them female. The three bullet holes in her chest were the least of her problems. Her lower lip and a chunk of her left cheek had been ripped off, exposing dark-stained teeth in an exaggerated and hideous perma-grin.

The other looked as if his ample gut had been the site of a barbecue.

The howl of the wind changed as a new sound joined in. Brett did his best to categorize the sound, but all he came up with was the peculiar roaring of the unseen creature in the television show
LOST.

The approaching individuals, now less than ten yards away and closing in on them slowly, paused at the sound. Their heads moved in awkward fits, cocking towards the low mewling before returning to Brett and Vic.

“Boss?”

“What the fuck is going on?” Brett asked, inspiring no confidence in Vic whatsoever.

“I was hoping you were fixin’ to tell me!”

4

Rachel lay flat on the floor, peering through the tiny slit between the door and the floor, fairly certain there was only one set of feet on the other side. Problem was, she had no idea what to do. She’d seen some of her colleagues try to subdue the…

Well now,
she thought,
that’s the first problem. Just what am I dealing with, exactly?

“Zombies?” she scoffed.

Feet shuffled and the pounding at the door resumed.

“Shit!” Rachel squeaked, instantly angry at her frightened response.

Climbing to her feet and dusting herself off, she took a quick inventory of her possibilities. Her gaze lingered on the mop closet. An idea came; it was a bit more “action hero” than she liked, but considering the circumstances, it would have to do.

Taking a deep breath and clutching the doorknob, Rachel turned the knob and yanked. The young woman standing in the hallway was Donna Noble. Rachel hated her, and she was a mess. There was so much blood that it was hard to tell which bite killed her.

The mess formerly known as Donna, stumbled into the rec room. Her arms were outstretched in a sleepwalking parody; her dead, filmed-over eyes were wide open. She was obviously aware of Rachel’s presence.

“That’s right,” Rachel sing-songed, backpedaling towards the closet. “Follow me.”

5

A loud rumble shook what amounted to their whole world. It was enough to cause the small aircraft to bunny-hop sideways a few feet and cause a stack of steel drums to topple.

Brett grabbed Vic by the collar just in time to keep Mister Barbecue from getting a hold of an ankle. Changing magazines quickly and letting the slide load a new round, he shoved the pistol’s muzzle against the back of the dead man’s head and fired.

The body dropped like the proverbial sack of potatoes.

“Well how do you like that,” Brett said with a smirk.

“What’s that?” Vic asked, still looking at the woman who should not be getting up, but was, nonetheless.

“Those terrible movies!”

“Excuse me?”

“All those films with the word
Dead
in the title.”

“Still not following you, sir.”

“Shoot ’em in the head,” Brett put a round in the woman’s forehead, sending her toppling over backwards beside the big man.

The rumbling sound came again. It was much louder this time and coming from the east. Seconds later, slow and rhythmic vibrations began.

“Something tells me this job just got a lot harder.” Brett began sifting through the footlocker.

6

Rachel slammed the closet door and allowed a smattering of nervous laughter to escape as she leaned against the wall.

There was a sudden shudder. All the lights flickered and went out, and Rachel found herself on the floor with a sharp pain blooming in her left arm.

Her arm was visibly broken just above the wrist.

Holding back the tears, she climbed to her feet as the lights came back on. She heard, before she saw, the trio of zombies up the hall. They were lying on the ground like flipped over turtles, struggling to regain their footing.

After taking a deep breath, Rachel ran as fast as she could manage across the rec room, out the door, down the hall, and past the undead threesome. Taking her first left, she stopped short when she saw more walking dead pawing at the glass window in the door. The women’s locker room was to her right, so she ducked inside. There would be an exit leading outside; she only hoped there would be some protective gear, too. Otherwise, unless the plane was parked outside the door, she would die of exposure within minutes.

She rummaged through a bin and came up with a suit, one glove, and a facemask. It wasn’t ideal, but it was certainly better than nothing.

A peculiar, rhythmic vibration came; it was strong enough to cause the overhead fluorescents to flicker.

The swelling above her left wrist was tremendous. She tried her best not to dwell on the odd angle her arm was bent at as she slid it into the sleeve of the exposure suit. Sitting on a bench, she slipped her feet into a pair of boots that were at least two sizes too large. The door to outside needed to have a pass code typed into the panel, which she did before opening it to the howling wind and deadly cold.

7

Brett shouldered the pack and flipped the chest closed. Vic still stood like an idiot staring at the most recent improbability making itself known.

“Is that…?”

“A giant, snow-white gorilla tall enough to overlook the two-story light tower?” Brett tugged at his facemask, keeping the flap over his mouth. He didn’t want the freezing air to reach his teeth, worried that the warmth of his mouth, combined with the temperature of the air, would cause his teeth to fracture and shatter like hot glass shoved in a freezer.

“Just wanted to know I wasn’t seeing things,” Vic nodded.

“Take these.” Brett held out a green burlap carry bag. “Inside are two dozen affixable explosives.”

“Okay…” Vic said, fixated on the enormous primate.

“Around the buildings you’ll find black squares painted on structural keys. Place the devices on the squares.” Brett spun Vic to face him to ensure that he was being understood. “Then get your ass back here to refuel. Be ready for immediate departure.”

“Y-y-yeah,” Vic stammered.

“Oh,” Brett said, glancing at the fifty-foot gorilla that was reaching the far side of the complex. “And try not to let
that
see you.”

“Thanks for the safety tip,” Vic grumbled, as Brett jogged towards the main building.

8

Rachel froze in her tracks. After all she’d seen in the past two days, she thought she was ready for anything. She was wrong.

Across the open expanse of ice, moving into the dazzling white light that was shining from one of the light towers, the giant gorilla stood. Only, in the light, Rachel could tell there was something wrong with the behemoth. It took one ponderous step forward, and in that instant, she knew what was wrong: the monster and her coworkers were suffering from the same affliction. With one giant arm, the beast swiped the light tower aside and took another step. Its giant head jerked, and the beast altered its course away from the landing strip.

Making certain that her mask was in place, Rachel made her way along the side of the building. She saw a couple colleagues as she passed by doors and windows. All of them were in the same state: bloody, with filmed over eyes, and obviously dead.

An odd, moaning howl made her glance over her shoulder.

The enormous gorilla held an unknown someone in one of its huge hands.

“Oh my God.” She watched in horror as the person was stuffed—kicking and screaming—into the gaping maw of the undead gorilla.

A bearded man wearing a clear faceplate stumbled around the corner and Rachel froze, fearing he was one of her recently deceased colleagues.

“Holy crap!” the man exclaimed, stumbling back a step.

“Who the hell are you?” Rachel demanded, her eyes drifting to the peculiar device he was holding.

“Vic Brady, ma’am.” Vic quickly regained his composure. He was pretty sure that Brett’s job included killing all the residents of Athens, but that wasn’t his assignment. “And who might you be?”

“My name is Doctor Rachel Redding,” Rachel did her best to sound authoritative… and unafraid.

“You mind telling me what that is?” Vic said, pointing towards the giant gorilla, which was at the far side of the facility, pulling apart a storage hangar.

“I’m guessing it’s a relic from when this place was known as Gondwanaland.”

“Huh?” Vic didn’t consider himself stupid, but that last statement went straight past him.

“History lesson later.” Rachel glanced over her shoulder. “I’m guessing you came in the aircraft I heard? Maybe we should get on it and leave.”

Vic slapped the device in his hand on a black square painted on the building that Rachel had never really noticed before. It didn’t take a lot of mental ability to figure out what was going on. The guy was probably from DECC Corporation, and they were taking care of their mess the only way they knew how.

“Got two more of these to put in place,” Vic said, pulling another device from the burlap bag he had slung over his shoulder.

“Then we can go?” Rachel prodded.

She didn’t ask what he was doing.
Smart gal,
Vic thought,
too bad the odds of her joining us are unlikely.
He moved past, heading between a pair of buildings at a jog.

Glancing one more time monster tugging at the roof of one of the buildings, Rachel shivered and took off after Vic.

9

Brett pushed the zombie back and watched it struggle before coming at him again. He wondered why the damned thing hadn’t frozen solid. Well, he wasn’t a scientist; he was a “fixer” working for some very wealthy, very powerful men. He didn’t have time to waste.

After bringing up his pistol, he shot the man in the face. Then he opened the flap of his tablet and selected the dot: Greg Meyers, nutritionist––the last target inside.

One of the dots had taken off in a hurry.

Great,
Brett thought,
a survivor.
Or, as the men at DECC would see it… a witness. This one had been on a beeline for the landing strip, but suddenly changed directions. He didn’t want to go chasing all over, and hoped that this ‘Rachel Redding, biochemist’—according to what came up when he’d selected her dot—would make his job easy and be waiting by the plane.

The ground shook.

That…
thing…
was on the move again. It must’ve gotten tired of ripping apart the storage hangar.

Time to go
, Brett holstered his pistol and closed his tablet. With any luck, ‘Rachel Redding, biochemist’ would be at the plane.

A single shot would finish the job, and then they could be on their way.

Speaking of
on their way––
if Vic had no problems finding the squares, he’d soon be done with his task, but he still needed to top off the tanks, which gave Brett time to get a closer look at the giant gorilla.

Photographs and a video might come in handy. You never knew when you’d be asking for a pay raise, or you would want to leak something. Brett Urban didn’t know what was going on, but obtaining footage was the correct thing to do. He was a businessman.

He set his digital camera in the window. A look through the viewfinder made it clear that it was almost impossible
not
to have the massive beast in the shot.