Dead Man Running (41 page)

He took a deep breath.  "I smell your sex.  You're ready for me, right?"
 

Mira
pushed her chair back and stood. 
Haskins, small of stature, stumbled backwards. 
"I don't think Ben Wiley would appreciate this."

"I think Mr. Wiley wants his bomb and he needs me.  I think I would be forgiven one night of playing with our human pet."  He took a step forward and
Mira
backed up until she bumped into the lab bench.

Looking past her, Haskins noticed
Mira
's thumb drive.  "You're not supposed to use portable storage devices.  What are you doing?"

"Just taking some work home," she said.

"It's not allowed," he said. 
He looked toward the hallway,
where his fellow monsters were playing video games.  

Mira
had to do something – if Haskins got the others and they saw what she had on the thumb drive, she was as good as dead.

"Don't you people think about anything besides work?" she asked.  She casually undid two buttons on her silk blouse.

"You were going to work from home?" Haskins asked, his eyes locked on her generous breasts
and no
w
visible black brassiere.

She took one step forward and invaded his space.  She kissed him on his cold lips,
and then
spoke in a husky whisper.  "Would you like to go home with me to see how I work there?"

The creature nodded and the thumb drive was forgotten.

A quick cab ride got them to
Mira
's
west Philly
apartment in less than ten minutes.  Once inside
,
the
creature's hands were all over
her
.  In less than a minute her blouse was off and he was pawing at her pants.

"I have to pee," she announced finally.

"Pee later," he said as he undid her belt and tossed it aside.  She smiled and rolled out of his arms.  "It'll go a little bit better handsome if I can pee first.  You'll see."  She fast walked into the bathroom and shut and locked the door.

She could hear his feet shuffling on the other side of the door.   "Come on
Mira
, I am so horny.  I am about to bust."  He banged on the door.

She pulled her pants down and sat on the toilet – she really did have to go.  She urinated, wiped herself and pulled her pants up.  She ran the water in the basin as she considered how to kill a zombie.
  She looked around the room – there were scented candles that she had brought down from her
New York
apartment.  There was the normal bathroom stuff – towel and wash cloth, soap, shampoo. 

There was a loud bang on the frail door.  "I'm coming in there
Mira
if you don't come out right now.  No more being a tease."

"I want to be clean for you, baby," she replied.  Clean.  She looked underneath the sink.  In addition to the cleaning supplies there was hair gel and
nail polish remover in a small plastic bottle
.   There was a loud bang and the door was nearly split in two pieces.

Wasn't nail polish remover flammable?

Moving quickly she found the Bic lighter she used to light her candles and stuffed it into her pocket.  She placed
the bottle of nail polish remover
in her other pocket.  Just then Haskins completed the destruction of her door and stepped into the small space.

He was on her in seconds.  With a determined tug he tore off her bra
.  He lifted her up and carried her to the living room couch.  He dumped her down unceremoniously.  "Take off those damned pants," he ordered.

She peeled off her slacks and
laid
them beside the couch, the front pockets within easy reach.

Haskins reach
ed
down and tore off her panties.  He climbed on top of her.  He was a full head shorter than her and his feet did not reach hers.  He was still fully clothed and thus began the comedy of a zombie trying to get his thing out while simultaneously groping a woman's breasts and vagina.

Mira
cringed as the creature forced his fingers inside her.  He seemed to reach a new
level of pleasure with th
is
act, his eyes clamping shut in ecstasy.

While he was so distracted,
Mira
reached for her pants.  She found the lighter first and managed to tuck it under her chin. 

Haskins had removed his hand from her sex and worked on his pants.  Finally he had his pants down around his ankles and had freed his penis from his tight white drawers. 

"Get ready baby, her
e
I come," he said. 
Once a geek, always a geek
,
Mira
thought.

He lay on top of her and struggled to get inside her. 
Mira
reached into her other pants pocket and scooped out
the
small bottle
. 
She quickly unscrewed the top and doused the liquid
on Haskins
'
shoulders and back
.  His
attention left her
unviolated
vagina
.

"What is this?  What are you doing?
" he
asked
.

"I
'm
sorry," she said, "I'm the kind of girl
who needs to be brought dinner first
."  As he pondered her response she dropped the lighter out from under her chin and quickly fired it up.

The flame leaped from the lighter to the
glistening liquid
on
his
upper body
.  Haskins
rolled
off of
Mira
, struggling with the flames on his face and chest and the pants stupidly coiled about his ankles.  He reached for her as she bolted off the couch but could
only get a fingertip on her ankle
. 
It was enough to topple her to the floor but she quickly got to her feet. 
He roared as
Mira
headed for her kitchen.

She knew the burns would not kill him, that he would quickly recover to kill her unless she acted.  She grabbed the largest knife she had – a dull butcher knife. 

It would have to be enough. 

She turned to leave the kitchen and Haskins stood in the doorway smiling.

"Deceitful bitch.  You should know that I was going to turn you into Wiley anyway.  After fucking you, of course."  H
is
grin grew wider.  "Now I get to fuck you and eat you in more ways than one." 

As he erupted in laughter
Mira
Hidar
unleashed
an animalistic growl of her own.  She bowled over the small man, tumbling over his back. 

She q
uickly
took hold of
the knife
, which
had fallen out of her hand
.  She swung the knife and nearly severed his head from his body. 
There was a
surprised smile on the zombie's face as
Mira
sw
u
ng again.   This time the head and body went their separate ways, the head rolling to a stop
next to the couch
where
Mira
was almost raped by a zombie geek.

Mira
dragged the body to her bathtub and placed it inside.  That was to minimize the blood stains on her floor until she could clean up.  She knew that she would have to hack up the body for easier disposal
but she would do that later. 
Presently
, she had to get back to the lab.  She had unfinished business there.

She then cleaned herself, removing any vestige of the creature that nearly raped her.  She got dressed
, grabbed a cab a
nd less than a half hour after killing Haskins she was back in the lab.

She was relieved to see the thumb drive still in her work station
and the zombies still at play
.  She knew she was taking a risk but she continued her search for the nan
o
bot technology.  After several minutes she broke into Haskins drive and found what she was looking for.

She copied the files onto her
thumb
drive then shut down her work station.  As she stepped out of the lab she heard the sounds of the video game still coming out of the conference room. 

In the future, they would have one less player. 

For that, they had
Mira
Hidar
to thank.

TWENTY-
FOUR

Jan Wiley exited the limo in front of the
Walter
E.
Washington
Convention Center
in downtown DC.  She left behind her two bodyguards – who she nicknamed Salt and Pepper – after assuring the dim duo that she would be fine in the heavily secured facility during the high profile conference. 
She knew that the pair was happy to essentially have a day off, freeing them to pursue their passion for
stray dogs,
pussy and human flesh.

She stepped inside the cacophonous building and
hurriedly
found the sign
-
in booth for the convention.  She quickly but legibly signed her name.  She still had to think twice before adding the 'Wiley' to her name.  The hostess handed her a name tag.  Jan thanked the woman, who pointed out the coat room for the event. 

Jan did not head for the coat room. 

By Googling the convention center the day
s
prior she knew that there was a Metro station built into the site.  She walked the length of the
building to reach the station.  She paid her fare and took the Red Line to the
Metro
Center
, the system's main hub.  From there she rode the Blue Line to
the
Capital South station. 
Up the escalator
, it was a quick walk to International Real Estate Sales, a boutique real estate agency discretely catering to the very wealthy
and powerful.

She was a few minutes early for her ten o'clock appointment.  She declined the receptionist's offer of beverage
and was ushered into the office of
the agency's owner, James Kelly
.  Of course he recognized her, this wife of a sitting Cabinet member.  Although Kelly knew not to assume anything in this town, his best gues
s
was that Ben Wiley had siphoned off some campaign funds for the illegal purchase of a tropical getaway.  The surprise was that the wife was part of the plan.  Usually men of his stature did not associate 'wife' with 'getaway'.

Kelly greeted Jan with an air kiss and sat her at a circular table.  Built into the table was a
HD
monitor.  Kelly tapped the screen a few times and
a
ten
thousand
square
foot
six acre
beach front
compound
in
Costa Rica
appeared on screen.

"You took the virtual tour?"

Jan nodded.  "Yes."

"Did you want to fly down to check it out?  I can arrange accommodations."  Perhaps then he could meet
Mr.
Wiley.  He had heard the man was a comer, shooting up like a rocket.

Jan shook her head, pointedly looked at her watch.  Congressman Turnbull, freshman member of the House Human Rights committee
,
drafted by his betters to address th
e
conference, would have completed his opening remarks by now.  He had to stay at least until lunch, where he would welcome the foreign dignitaries on behalf of the American government.

"I thought I made it clear, Mr. Kelly, when I told you to make the owners an offer.  I don't need to go check anything out.  Did they accept my offer?"

'
I and my
'
, perhaps there's a divorce in the offing
, thought Kelly.  He made a mental note to follow-up with Wiley's office later. 
A divorced Wiley
would need a new home in the nation's Capital and Kelly had just the properties in mind.

"The owners accepted you
r
generous offer."

"Do you have the paperwork prepared?"

The realtor nodded and retrieved a thick sheaf of papers from his desk. 
"I assumed that your husband would not be signing," he said.  Most politicians would not want to leave a paper
trail
tying them to such an opulent home.