Cry Zombie Cry (I Zombie Book 5) (13 page)

Subject 002 picked up the CD from his lap.

“
And this?”

“
That is something very special. What you have in your hand is the only known recording of Jacob Plummer. Bethany Nitshimi transcribed that recording into the book. I want you listening to the audio on that disc twenty-four seven—until you can reproduce the voice without fail. It must be to perfection for this to work. Do you understand?”

Subject 002 nodded.

“
Good. I’ll expect you to be ready for quizzing soon. I’ll leave you to your studies.” Faddig started toward the door, but stopped and turned back to the bed. “By the way, that is the original journal. Treat it as if your life depended upon its continued existence.”

Faddig turned back and marched out of the room with a confidence only a man in his position could dare own.

Subject 002 opened up the journal and began to read aloud.

“
The blast ripped through the air, stopping all time and thought. Even from within my hotel room, I felt the concussion deep within my cells. I felt it in my gut, my eyes, my brain. It rang in my skull and burned my skin. The sensation and sound were everywhere and everything. And then it was nothing…which was the strangest part of it all. I expected the sounds of chaos—alarms, cries, screams—but there was nothing. I was confronted with an all-encompassing nothing. For an instant, I felt as if someone had lowered me into a sensory-deprivation chamber, where all was lost save some scattered randomness in my brain. At first I thought maybe the concussion had blown out my hearing, but the sound of breathing and the rustling of sheets neatly tucked away the fear of going deaf.”

Dr. Otte stood in silence for a moment. Finally, he held his hand out to request the journal.

“
May I?”

Subject 002 handed the bound pages over to the doctor.

“
I’ve read copies of this more times than I can possibly remember. This is the first time I’ve ever had the chance to hold the original.” A smile flashed across his lips as the book exchanged hands. “It’s not like I’m holding the constitution or one of Mozart’s original manuscripts…but this does hold a rather unique significance.”

Subject 002 looked up at Otte. “I don’t understand.”

“
This book chronicles the greatest transition in the history of mankind—literally and figuratively. Jacob Plummer became the focus of the Zero Day Collective’s entire mission and we have the very blueprint for the man right here. This book is going to help you get under the skin and into the soul of that man so you can, in turn, help us retrieve something we lost.”

“
I still don’t understand.”

Dr. Otte reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a photo.

“
Do you see the man in this photo? That is…was…Jacob Plummer.”

The doctor grabbed a mirror from a drawer in the bedside table and turned it toward the man in the bed.

“
What do you see?”

Subject 002’s face drew in tight. “What have you done to me?”

Otte pulled the mirror from the man’s grasp and returned it to the table.

“
We did what we do best. Now, I suggest you continue reading and listen to the contents of that disc. We’ll be sending you out soon enough.” He spun on his heel and swept out of the room.

The door to the recovery room slammed shut behind Dr. Otte. The silence that drifted over every surface was disquieting. Before that silence could worm its way into the consciousness of Subject 002, he placed the disk into the portable player and hit Play. The voice spilled out of the speakers and chilled the air in the room.

chapter 13 |
new salt lake city

“
Oh my God,” Echo shouted, “there it is…New Salt Lake City.”

We’d finally made it. I had long since given up the idea that a safe haven or Mecca (of any form) existed. Nothing was truly safe anymore. Not on earth, even as it is in heaven…you won’t find a singular spot protected from the ravages of post-apocalyptic disaster. From the tiniest mousehole to the goddamn Grand Canyon, there is nowhere to hide from the virus, from the Zero Day Collective, and from the undead horde. Even with those thoughts creeping into my consciousness, I couldn’t help but allow a twinge of excitement to bubble up my throat and into my mouth when I saw the shadow of the city skyline against the setting sun.

“
It’s beautiful,” said Rizzo.

“
So peaceful,” added Jamal.

The calming spell the cityscape held over us lasted but a few miles. As soon as Highway 15 crossed over 215, things went into a sudden downward spiral. Before we could gather our thoughts on exactly where we needed to go, a Moaner stepped into the path of the Hummer.

“
Hello, Mr. Self-Destruct,” Josh said, before he punched the gas and plowed into the zombie. Shreds of rotten flesh and brownish slop rained down on the windshield.

“
That had to hurt,” laughed Rizzo. Her laughter brought stares from everyone but Josh. “What? I can’t crack wise about the monsters? Besides, I was only following up Josh’s Nine Inch Nails reference.”

As I stared around the inside of the truck, it dawned on me that Rizzo had a point. We’d all lost what little sense of humor had remained. As crazy as it sounded, humor was the most powerful medicine we had at our disposal.

“
Don’t worry, Riz, you’re in a warm place.” I decided to follow Josh and Rizzo’s lead. Rizzo smiled and held up her fist at me. I shook my head and winked. I had rules, one of which was no fist bumping. Ever. Fist bumping was for frat boys and shirt-tuckers—of which I was neither.

Morgan turned around in her seat and looked my way. “What’s the plan?”

There was my Achilles in this situation; I had no plan. That was the last thing this group needed—to find out their leader was clueless—so I had to improvise something, anything, to keep us moving forward.

“
Simple. We find a way into this city, set up a camp, and start planning our attack on the Zero Day Collective.”

Josh slammed on the brakes, sending nearly everyone in the truck flying forward. “Yeah, that might not be as easy as you think.”

After our little neck-snap disco, I managed to right myself and look through the windshield of the truck. What stood before us was no standard wall; we sat at the base of a towering monolith.

“
Holy shit,” Rizzo whispered, “how tall is that, ya think?”

Jamal answered before anyone else could bother. “By my calculations, I would say just over thirty feet…give or take a few inches.”

“
How do you—” Rizzo started, “uh, never mind.”

Morgan and Josh opened their doors and stepped out of the Hummer. Jamal and I followed suit.

“
I’m surprised there isn’t someone guarding this.”

“
Why would they need a guard? Morgo, no zombie’s going to lurch over this thing.”

“
I know that, Josh; but what’s stopping
us
from doing it? And who’s to say we’re the good guys?”

“
Oh yeah.” Josh hung his head in mock shame.

“
I see it,” Jamal called out, as he jumped from the Hummer and rushed to the wall. He raised his hand and traced a path to the top of the wall. “Here. Do you have a length of strong chain we could attach to the truck?”

Josh stepped out and followed Jamal’s lead. “I like where you’re going with this, my boy. We attach one end of a chain to the gate of the wall and the other to the truck and we then attempt to muscle the doors open. Sounds perfect. Only one problem…where’s the gate?”

“
You don’t see it?” Jamal walked toward the gate. Instinct forced me forward to pull him back. He wanted nothing to do with my insistence. Instead he raised his arm to outline the nearly invisible gateway. “There’s a perfectly vertical seam there. The way this wall has been so haphazardly put together, the only explanation for such a straight line is—”

“
Gate.” Josh caught on.

“
Jamal,” I stepped between the two men. “I don’t think that Hummer has enough power to pull such a large gate open. Besides, who would do something so stu—?” I caught myself before the offending words left my mouth. “Look at the ground.”

Jamal and Josh stared at the ground and then up at me. They were clearly clueless.

“
What do you
not
see?”

Jamal slapped his forehead the second he caught on.

Josh stared between Jamal and me. “What? Is this like one of those magic eye stereograph posters where you stare and stare and eventually you see a sailboat?”

“
There are no tracks from the door. That means the door either swings inward or slides to the side.”

“
We don’t even know for sure it’s a door.” Jamal scratched his head and stepped closer to the wall.

Before we knew what was happening, Echo and Rizzo flew by us and jumped onto the wall.

“
Hey,” I shouted up. “What in the hell do you think—?”

Echo stopped, mid-climb, and shouted down at us. “We thought it might be smart to actually do something instead of standing around debating what was behind door number three. I hope that’s okay with you adults.”

Without another word, Echo finished her shimmy up the wall and disappeared over the edge.

Ever so slowly, it dawned on us how crazy their idea was.

“
Oh God,” I said, and then sprang for the wall. I was never much good at climbing—not trees, not mountains, not obstacles. I was fit, for sure; I ran and biked most of my life, so I enjoyed a certain level of fitness. But climbing required a level of physical confidence I couldn’t generally muster.

Unless one of my crew was placing her life on the line; at which point it was Bruce Banner lifting cars all over again.

“
Bethany,” Jamal shouted, “I really wish you wouldn’t…oh hell, looks like I’m going to have to follow that woman.”

Before Jamal could catch me, I reached the top of the wall.

I really don’t know what I was expecting to see on the other side of the monolith. What I did wind up beholding nearly crushed my spirit. The city was devastated. There was no sign of life (or “un-life,” thankfully). There was, however, plenty of death. Scattered over the roads and yards were bodies—stiff and swelling bodies, everywhere. Bellies popped from methane buildup, entrails picked clean by carrion crows, vultures, and who knew what else? The whole of the landscape seemed frozen in time. There was no wind to blow through the trees, no stray dogs or cats rummaging for a morsel or mouse. There was only a perfect, gray, absolute nothingness.

“
Well, this just sucks hard.” Jamal sighed, as he took in the panorama of disappointment. “I guess I expected there to be survivors. Hell, I think I was under the assumption there’d be a bustling metropolis this side of Pink’s Wall. What do we do, B?”

I scanned the scenery one last time. “We take over. We have to be here if there’s any hope of rescuing my baby. We’ll find some place safe to bunk down and start forming a plan. We certainly can’t give up on anything simply because of a tiny setback like this.”

“
Tiny?” Jamal looked at me with his best “crazy eyes.” “Bethany, we’re overlooking an entire city turned to rubble and rot. We’ll be lucky to find a place to sleep or something to eat.”

My eyes met Jamal’s. “There’s one thing you’re neglecting. Take a listen…what do you hear?”

Jamal tilted his head to the left and then the right.

“
Not a peep.”

“
Exactly. If there were any flavor of the undead on this side of the wall, we’d hear them. Since we don’t, we can draw one very important conclusion—inside this wall is a zombie-free zone.”

Jamal grinned. “Okay, when you put it that way…what are you waiting for?”

Both of us finished the climb over and gestured for the rest of the gang to follow suit.

“
I knew you’d follow us in.” Echo grinned wide and winked.

“
Echo, you can’t just run off. You pull a stunt like that one too many times and you will find yourself with a nasty case of death on your hands. This isn’t a playground or a game—you know this.”

As my brain dug in for some fragment of wisdom to drop on my girl, I was overcome by the all-encompassing silence. It was the first time in what seemed like forever that I heard such a big, beautiful nothing.