Zombie Rehab (4 page)

Chapter 7

Institute, WV

H
enry’s first instinct was to jam on the gas pedal and run over the approaching zombies. The pair of undead men moved at less than a mile per hour as they approached, and they were in total oblivion to the danger Henry and his vehicle posed.

“Run em’ over, Henry, I hate those damn things!” Tori shouted in his ear.

“Easy Tori, geez, I’m right here,” he said, almost pushing her face away.

The zombies’ slanted walking gate and slack jaws still turned Henry’s blood to ice, despite the fact that he knew he should have nothing to fear. But, here they came, wearing dark green coveralls and hard hats, of all things. He had begun to get used to their presence when he was in the complex before, but after being gone for a while the willies came right back. Now, the last thing he wanted was to have his last remaining prized possession, his classic candy apple red 1968 Mustang, damaged by a zombie pushing a lawn mower. There wasn’t a path to go around them. He was in an alley where the office buildings were boarded up on the left and right.

“Crap, I’m gonna have to back up. Are you going to be okay?” he asked Tori.

Tori sat in her seat, wide-eyed and picking her lip, and he could see the goosebumps on her arms.

“Such a fine welcoming committee. I wonder who is responsible for this mess. It better not be Rudy. That moron’s always up to something.”

Henry nodded. His friend had never been the most reliable of people and had grown quite fond of walking the grounds with the aimless zombies. To make matters worse, the director of the complex seemed to be enamored with Rudy’s bizarre ideas of giving the zombies a life of greater meaning. Henry could have slapped himself when he unintentionally pictured himself rebuilding the gazebo with the zombies.

“All right, this is ridiculous. I’ll back it up, and we’ll just go around to the other side.”

As he dropped his car in gear, he caught a glimpse of three more zombies in the rear-view mirror; they had boxed him in.

“Dammit! There are more of them!”

Tori’s head whipped around, and she let out a frightened squeak.

Henry blinked hard as he pushed his glasses back up on his face. They all had on green coveralls, white hard hats, and work boots that were scraping and dragging over the ground. One of them was holding a shovel in both hands as his neck bobbed from side to side. Another one had a pair of metal tree-trimming shears with the tip scraping over the ground, but the third one was the most disturbing of them all.

“Is that a chainsaw?” Tori cried.

He nodded his head. The sound of the small motor in the lethal instrument was very distinct in his ears.

WAHHH! WAHHH! WAHHH! WAHHH!

“Geez, it can use that thing. Lock the door Tori!”

“It is locked!”

Henry began jamming his finger into his iPhone as the zombies closed in, step by dreadful step. He set the phone on his dash board and left it on speaker as it rang.

“Henry, maybe we should get out and run! They can’t catch us. Geez, where are their supervisors! Where’s Rudy? That idiot never keeps an eye on those things!”

As the sun began to dip behind the mountains on the horizon, darkness began to envelope everything. The alley was no longer a short-cut to his office, but rather a haven for the awakening of evil. Tori clutched at his arm as he tried to swallow down his fears. His heart thundered so loudly in his ears that he almost couldn’t hear anything else at all. He looked at his phone on the dashboard, uncertain as to whether or not it was even ringing because the sounds of the roaring chainsaw and the sputtering lawnmower were caving his senses in. He looked at Tori. She seemed to be trying to say something to him, but he couldn’t comprehend it. His nerves were jammed, and his mind had frozen.

Closer and closer the zombies came, and they were singing the most horrible song.

“Num-num. Num-Num. Num-num …”

Henry always figured it was only a matter of time before the WHS had him devoured. Had they finally figured him out? Did they decipher Nate McDaniel’s code he had received?
CPWWSZH.
It wouldn’t have been that hard to figure out: World Humanitarian Society World Population Control. Maybe this was why they kept the zombies around, and now they didn’t need him anymore, other than to be a rat in some kind of experiment. Henry rubbed his temples.

“I’m sorry, Tori! I’m sorry, this is my fault!”

Tori was just shaking her head, speechless in the shadow of death.

The recesses of his mind began to regain their purpose as a plethora of scenarios became a puzzle that needed solved inside his mind. They had sent him away, on a vacation, something that was an odd and unexpected surprise. That must have been the plan: to set the trap, plan his death, and get the entire incident recorded.
I bet they’re watching right now.
He remembered going over the scan areas of all the security cameras that they had set up before he left. He wondered if he was going to be the first victim or one of the last. How many others had been snuffed out like this.
Rudy!

He could hear Rudy’s voice on the iPhone, but it was a recording, a stupid one.

“I’m sorry, I’m not here right now, I have leaped back in time to stop NBC from canceling Quantum Leap. Please leave a message after the beep, and I’ll have my zombie secretary, Chi-Chi, send me the message.”

WAHRAAA! WAHRAAA! WAHRAAA! Went the chainsaw.

“Num-num. Num-Num. Num-Num,” went the zombies.

“Dammit, don’t you have a shotgun in this thing!” Went Tori, honking the horn and screaming like a woman gone mad.

The car was surrounded now, and the darkening silhouettes of the haunting figures pressed along the doors, pinning them in. Henry couldn’t even bear to look at their faces now. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the kaleidoscope of sounds so he could think.

Drive through them you idiot!
he thought.

“Run them over you idiot!” Tori screamed as he slammed the car into gear and revved up the engine.

“Shit! He’s gonna run us over!” one of the Zombies cried out, jumping out of the way.

Another zombie was knocking on the window saying, “Hey Henry, did you pick up my beer?” It was Rudy’s voice.

The ice in Henry’s veins turned into fire. He was furious.

“Get—Away—From—My—Car!

He wanted to kill them, every one of them as he took a special note of each and every one as they removed their zombie masks. All of the horrifying sounds were gone now, replaced with uproarious laughter.

“I gotta get back to the security office and see this on video. Man, Henry you should have seen your face!” a big black fella named Rod said.

Henry wanted to knock his block off, but he was pretty sure Rod could easily prevent that from happening, being an EFC fighter and all. Still, he managed to shake his trembling fist at Rod. The big man and a few others just laughed and walked away, hauling off their stuff.

“We’ll make a copy and bring it to the party,” a woman named Myrtle said as she limped away.

That’s when Henry noticed something else, too. In his terror, he had momentarily forgotten about Tori, but she seemed to be doing fine, even with all of the tears in her eyes that were caused by all of her laughing.

“You—You were in on this?” he stammered.

She was still cackling, and he couldn’t believe his ears.

“I’m sorry, Lover. It was Rudy’s idea. I didn’t figure you’d fall for it hook, line, and sinker.”

“Hey, roll down your window, Bawk. It’s cool, just a little prank. You know, a little ‘welcome you back’ party. I figured it’d get you back in the swing of things.”

Henry felt like a fool as he rolled down the window, but it didn’t stop him from grabbing Rudy by the coveralls and pulling his head in.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Henry warned as he shoved the man back outside.

Tori started rubbing his arm, still chuckling as she said, “Easy, Lover. I’ll make it right. Man, you’re still shaking.”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out … now.”

“Fine then, you big baby,” she said as she got out and slammed the door so hard it rocked the car on the springs. “I said I was sorry.”

Henry began to drive off as he heard Rudy yell, “Hey, leave the beer, man!”

He stopped the car and tossed the twelve pack onto the ground with a crash.

“Ah, Henry, you didn’t have to do that.”

But Henry didn’t hear him as he peeled away. He hadn’t been back for five minutes and he already wanted to get away.
This place is sick.

Chapter 8

Location Unknown

T
he next time Nate McDaniel opened his eyes, he was looking into the face of a pretty black woman with a tiny mole on her chin. She seemed familiar for some reason, possibly the nurse he recalled hearing the first time he woke up. His nose and face were both aching now, and he was still starving as he reached up to rub his eyes. The woman’s hands were warm and soft when she grabbed his, pushing them back down.

“Easy now, big fella. All that moving is what landed you face first on the floor, and after all the work that Doctor Z did to you, you almost screwed it up. Oooh … he was furious,” she said as she put a warm coffee mug to his lips.

“What is it?” Nate managed to ask.

“Just some warm milk and honey to start with. If you can keep this down, I’ll give you something solid, but you have to be still … cause if you misbehave I’ll have to go.”

Nate didn’t like the way she said that as the horror of her leaving the last time flashed in his memory. She was the only link to what was going on. The warm porcelain felt good on his chin as he took a slurp. He never remembered milk or honey tasting so good.

“Ah … you like that, don’t you. Here, let me prop you up some more so you can finish it,” she said, reaching underneath his bed and winding a crank. In a matter of seconds he was almost in a full upright sitting position, and she lifted the cup to his lips again.

He started to reach for the cup, but his arm felt like it weighed a ton, and her eyes glimmered a warning.

She said, “Go ahead, but you better not make a mess. I’m getting tired of cleaning up after you. It’s hard to clean the crack of a big man like you, and Honey, let me tell you, you make a pretty big mess for someone that’s hardly had anything to eat the past few months.

“Months?” he blurted, spitting up his milk.

Her chestnut eyes filled with fear as she waved her hand at him and said, “I didn’t say that. Take care of me, and I’ll take care of you.” She wiped his chin off. “Trust me, you and me both don’t want to upset Mr. Z. No, no, no. I’ve seen too many people disappear after they cross him. I’d take a room full of zombies over a room full of him.” Nate didn’t have anything to say. His sluggish mind was trolling through a whirlpool of thoughts. It was hard to concentrate, and his heavy body was still full of aches and pains. At least the ravenous pangs of hunger were beginning to subside, but he was still tortured with the thought …
Where the Hell am I?

She began snapping her fingers in his face.

“Hey, are we good?”

“Huh … uh, yeah, perfectly.”

She tucked the blankets underneath his legs and said as she eyed him, “Perfectly what?”

“Ma’am?”

“Do I look like and old woman to you?”

“Er … no?” he said as he set the glass on a small table by the bedside.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

“Well, yes.”

“Good, then you can call me Rose.”

“I couldn’t have named you better myself,” he said with a boyish smile.

“Hmmm … I like that. Keep it up, big fella.” She patted his thigh. “Now, you just stay right there while I go and warm you up some more milk and honey. And if you keep talking to me like that, I’ll make you a special treat for later,” she said with a wink.

He was smiling as he watched her walk away in her white scrubs that seemed to enhance her attractive features, but when she opened the door another wave of fear crashed over him. What if she didn’t come back? Had she put something in his drink?
Please hurry back!
When the door closed, he broke out into a cold sweat as only he and the sound of the rattling air conditioner remained.
Where am I? I’ve got to get out of here.

He laid his head back, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples, trying to recall the last thing he remembered. A beautiful woman was dead in his bed. Drugs were everywhere. That evil little man in black and a barrel of a gun pointed in his face—No, put in his hand. There was a loud gun shot.
Oh my!
It was the last thing he remembered before he blacked out.

“Christy Backwater …,” he muttered. He felt an inner victory for just recalling her name. He took a deep breath as he allowed more of the fog to lift from his brain. He wiggled his toes underneath the stiff cotton sheets, and then he realized he had to pee. Over in the corner of the room was a wooden door with a metal handle, either a closet or a bathroom. The pressure in his groin began to burn, and he figured he had recently been attached to a catheter.
Great.
He started to sit all the way up, ignoring the aching fire that was building in his nose, when he heard the door handle moving.
Thank goodness!
He allowed himself to lean back and close his eyes.
Rose will take care of me.
The tension in his neck eased.
I just have to turn on the charm.

The door closed.

He said, “I missed you, Rose. It seemed like you were gone forever. Now, I’ve been good and I didn’t move a hair, so are you going to give me some more of your delicious milk and honey, Sweetie?”

“No,” a man’s deep voice belted out, “I was thinking I’d just punch you in the balls, Asshole.”

Nate’s entire body shuddered at the first syllable of the deep southern drawl from hell.

“I see you remember me,” the man in black said. “What’s that smell?
Sniff sniff.
Ah, did you just pee yourself? You did that the last time I came to see you, too. Well, I’ve smelled worse.”

This can’t be happening! This can’t be happening!

But it was, and why wouldn’t it be? After all, this was the last man he had seen before he woke up here. Of course, the man in black could only be the reason he survived, who else would have saved him. He assumed the WHS had something to do with it, even though he didn’t really have the time or ability to give it much thought.

He closed his eyes again.
Go away! Go away!
He didn’t want to open his eyes, but he did. The nightmare was real. Slowly, his lids opened, and there he was: wearing a black ball cap, mirrored glasses, a burning cigarette, a smirk, a black polo shirt with two bean-pole arms, and a sidearm. His lower lip jutted out below a row of yellow teeth and a thin moustache.

Something ignited inside of Nate McDaniel that gave new strength to his limbs.

The little man hitched his foot up on the bedrail as he dropped a load of tobacco in his bottom lip. “So, Butthole that saved the world, how have you been?”

“You killed Christy. You killed Jeanine! You’re the asshole, not me!”

The man in black was unfazed, a cold face almost grinning like a fool. The man blew a ring of smoke his way and said, “Is that so?”

“Yeah … yeah that’s so!”

“So you want to fight me now, Lard Ass?”

“What? What is your problem?”

“I don’t like you,” the man said, flicking his ashes on his sheets.

“Well, I don’t like you either! Dickhead!” As Nate pulled his legs over the side of the bed the door opened again, and a large vulture of a man stepped through. Nate froze.
Doctor Z?

“Get back in that bed, Son,” the man said with the authority of a policeman. “Walker, you better not be harassing the patient.”

Nate slid his feet back under the sheets, all but forgetting the man in black. The doctor was wearing a white lab coat and jeans, and featured the long haunting face of a seventy-year-old. His droopy gray eyes guarded a calculating mind full of secrets. Nate wanted nothing to do with this man. Something about him wasn’t right.

“Did you do this to my face?”

The doctor walked over and leaned over his face with a pen light, causing Nate to flinch.

“Be still,” the doctor said, pushing Nate’s eyelids back.

The doctor’s breath was fresh with peppermint, and his touch seemed squeaky clean as he massaged his fingers all over Nate’s face. Nate grimaced. The doctor took a whiff of air and said, “Did you just pee yourself?”

“No … well, I guess I did when he came in,” he said, sliding his eyes over to Walker.

“Hmph … were you trying to pee on him?”

It was funny how the doctor said it, but he wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“M-Maybe,” Nate replied.

“Walker, get the nurse back in here to clean him up, will you?”

“Yeh Doc,” Walker said as he slipped back outside the room.

The doctor sat down on the edge of Nate’s bed and folded his long arms across his lap. He rubbed his cheeks and said, “I bet you’re ready for some answers, aren’t you Nate?”

“Oh, you think?” Nate said, but he held his tone in check. The doctor just didn’t seem like someone he would want to upset.

“Okay, I changed your face. Major reconstructive surgery. It wasn’t my idea, those were my orders.”

Nate started to speak, but the doctor waved him off.

“Why? Well,” he paused, “… we couldn’t let you exist anymore. It was too dangerous.”

Insanity.
He was the man who saved the world, so why would anyone not want him to exist?
Harry!
The man had called him every day for years and was the last person he remembered talking to other than Christy. Was he behind this? Did Harry rescue him, or had it been someone else? His mouth was dry, and he had trouble trying to speak as he shifted in his bed. He could feel the spot of damp pee in his pajama pants begin to cool and stick to his leg. He shifted again.

“Don’t worry about it, Nate. I’m a doctor; I’m used to it. Come to think of it, I think I nearly pissed myself the first time I met Walker. That gangly little redneck could scare the wings off a bird. He’s like a snake made out of ice that slithers up your leg or down your spine. Be glad he’s on our side.” The strange doctor patted his leg. “I’ll tell you a secret, though: I did piss myself the first time I saw zombies. It was early, and I was just starting my shift in the clinic, tending to a comely woman who had a chest cold.” The doctor winked. “My kind of patient. Anyway, next thing I know there is all of this screaming and commotion, and I’m running out to see what in the world is going on. The entire lobby was filled with them, eating my patients and nurses. It looked like something you would see on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, when the jackals eat a gazelle, except it wasn’t natural … just horrifying.” The doctor dazed off, still rubbing his leg, until Nate reached over and brushed his hand aside.

“At least you made it out and lived long enough to screw up my face.”

“True, thanks to my SUV. I ran over about twelve of them that day. I never would have survived without it, that’s for sure. And to think my wife, my 3rd wife, had almost talked me into buying a Prius a week earlier. Hah! She didn’t make it.” The doctor stood back up and sauntered over to the door.

“Hey, where are you going? You haven’t told me anything.”

The man tapped his Rolex watch and said, “It’s my lunch time. I’ll let Walker catch you up. I think it’s time you got better acquainted with him anyway. You two are going to be spending a lot more time together.”

It took a moment for Nate to realize that he was all alone again. The air conditioner still rattled, and the air was stuffy. He shook his head, closed his eyes, and opened them again. He was starting to wonder if any of what just happened really happened at all. He reached over for the mug that he had drank from a few minutes earlier, but it was gone. He didn’t remember Rose taking it. He shook his head. Was any of this real?

“NO! What’s happening to me?” Only the stale air replied.