The Adventures of Steve and Terry: The Zombie Chronicles (20 page)

Steve and Terry looked at each
other, and then busted up laughing. “Seriously?” Steve asked between laughs.
“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“You don’t understand. It’s a
virus that turns its victims into violent lunatics, completely infected with
pure rage.”

Terry continued to laugh, but
Steve got very serious. “Terry, I think I’m infected.”

Terry just got an incredulous
look. “I don’t think so.”

“He’s right, it can only be passed
through bodily fluids,” the scientist assured him.

“No, I’m infected,” Steve
insisted, starting to shake. “You need to get away; I don’t know how much
longer I can control it!”

“You’re not infected,” Terry said
calmly.

“SO ANGRY!” Steve yelled. “FILLED
WITH RAGE!”

“You’re not.”

“FURIOUS!”

“No.”

“ANGRY!”

“No.”

“UPSET!”

“Not really.”

“SLIGHTLY PEEVED OFF!”

“Just give it up.”

Steve sucked in a deep breath and
held it, turning bright red.

“Give it up,” Terry said.

Steve blew out the breath and took
great gulps of air. “It’s okay; I think I’ve got the virus under control now.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m
sick
,” Steve said
angrily.

“You got that right.”

The other three just stood in mute
shock, jaws slack.

“What?” Steve asked angrily. “I
was infected with rage . . .” he said quietly, slowly trailing off.

“So, now what?” Terry asked.

“Now these corporate scumbags must
pay for their crimes against humanity!” one of the S.T.U.P.I.D. members yelled
at the scientist.

“Our crimes?!”

Steve and Terry slowly backed away
as the three got into a shouting match. They stepped into a control room with a
large glass window, not able to hear the argument anymore, but they could see
jaws flapping.

“This is all trivial, isn’t it?”
Steve asked.

“How do you mean?” Terry asked.

“Well, whether these ‘zombies’ got
out or not, the other effers have already overrun the world, so who cares at
this point?”

“True,” Terry said. “But everyone
can only comprehend their own sphere, you know?”

Steve nodded, but then started to shake
his head. “Actually no, I have no idea what that means?”

“It means all that matters to them,
right now, is their small little world. They only care about what they think
they can control.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve leaned back, “so,
sorta like—” he hit a big red button. Suddenly all the chimp cages opened. The
three out in the lab froze. “Oh, that can’t be good,” Steve said.

The chimps came hurtling out of
their cages and attacked. The scientist managed to get away and Terry pulled
him into the control room. They quickly closed and bolted the door. The two new
“zombies” and the chimps trashed the lab and then broke out into the rest of
the facility. The three watched on monitors as everyone was quickly turned.

“Well, that sucks,” Steve said.

“Sure would be nice to have some
guns right about now,” Terry said.

“Are you really bringing that up
again?”

“I’m just saying, if someone
hadn’t sunk the yacht, we might still have them.”

“I told you that was an act of—”

“Hey, look!” They watched on the
monitor as the outer doors broke open and real zombies came pouring in.

“Ooh, this oughta be good,” Terry
said, rubbing his hands like he was watching a pay-per-view fight.

“Holy shit!” Steve said, pointing
at another monitor. Terry looked at what he was starring at, to see a thin,
black clad figure killing zombies with a sword.

“Is that the Ninja?” Terry asked.

“Looks like it.”

Terry turned back to the other
monitors. “Hey, they’re about to meet!” he said excitedly.

The two hordes clashed, with the
real zombies starting to kill and eat the rage zombies. The rage zombies didn’t
stand a chance.

“They’re . . . killing them,” the
scientist said in utter shock.

“Well, that was disappointing,”
Steve said.

“I guess zombies can tell the
difference between each other,” Terry said.

“Well, the rage guys aren’t true
zombies, are they?” Steve said.

Terry turned to him with raised
eyebrows. “How so?”

“Well they aren’t dead, are they?
The real zombies are dead; these rage guys are technically still alive, just
consumed with rage. So, naturally, the real zombies only see them as another
food source.”

“Well, technically, real zombies
weren’t dead either,” Terry said. “The term zombie arose from voodoo, but they
were still technically alive. It wasn’t until modern pop culture got a hold of
the zombie myth that—”

“Are you guys really gonna have
this conversation, now?!” the scientist asked, obviously stressing out.

“No, you’re right,” Steve said.
“We need to get out of here?”

“How?”

Steve and Terry looked around the
room, then up. They both spotted the vents and looked at each other before
nodding.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding,”
the scientist said.

“We did it once before,” Steve
said.

“Yeah, at Squirrel city,” Terry
said, grabbing a chair. “I need a boost.”

“Squirrel what?”

“A city that was infested with
zombies then destroyed by a nuclear missile,” Steve said casually, boosting
Terry up.

“Oh, god,” the scientist said,
freaking out.

“Come on, I need a boost,” Steve
said.

The scientist boosted Steve up and
he quickly followed Terry. They soon disappeared through the vents.

The scientist watched Steve climb
up and then disappear. “Uh, hello?” he called after a few moments. He waited
for several more minutes, but Steve never came back. “Oh son of a bitch!” he yelled
angrily.

Steve and Terry made their way out
of the facility and back into the city. It was nearing morning and they would
need to find shelter to bed down. Terry stretched, after having been in the
vents for so long, and looked around.

“Uh, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s the scientist?”

Steve looked around and then
winced. “Oops.”

“Oops?”

“I forgot he probably needed help
up as well.”

“You’re a moron,” Terry said,
shaking his head. “Come on; let’s find some place to make base camp.”

“I miss my guns,” Steve said as
they made their way further into the city.

XIII. The
Legend

“This is Orville Redenbacher,
broadcasting on all frequencies. If anybody hears this, I will be at the south
seaport at noon of every day. If anyone hears this, you must contact me. I can
offer food, shelter, and if you’re a gorgeous, buxom woman, the chance to try
and repopulate the earth.”

Orville sat atop an SR-71
Blackbird. He had set up a small golf driving tee. He hit golf balls out into
the parking lot. He watched as one sailed particularly far.

“I’m gettin good,” he said. He
looked around with a smile, but then realized he was alone. “Oh, right.”

Orville went about his routine. He
would spend two hours every day hitting golf balls into the nothingness. He
allocated another two hours to scavenging and resource gathering, if necessary.
The rest of his waking hours were spent in his lab.

It was noon, a day just like any
other day. He mindlessly hit golf balls into the parking lot.

“Ow! Son of a bitch!” He heard
someone cry.

Orville immediately grabbed his M4
assault rifle. He couldn’t tell if he had actually heard the voice, or if it
was in his head. “Who’s out there?” he yelled.

Suddenly two balding, pudgy men
appeared, making their way between the cars. One carried a bloody “slippery
when wet” sign, the other a broken, bloody mop handle. “Is that you hitting the
golf balls, asshole?” the one with the sign asked.

The other was holding his head.
“Yeah, was that you?”

“Are you guys real?” Orville
asked.

“Real enough to get hit by a golf
ball, jerk,” the one holding his head said.

“Who are you guys?”

“I’m Terry; the guy with the welt
on his head is Steve.”

Steve gave a nod, then winced.

“Sorry about the golf ball,”
Orville said. “I honestly never expected anyone to respond to my broadcast.”
The two men looked at each other, then back at Orville. “You did hear my
broadcast, right?”

Terry looked back at Steve who
shrugged. He turned back to Orville. “Uh, not really,” he said.

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Steve said he wanted to see the
jets.”

“Fly,” Steve said, finally
removing his hand from his head. “I said
fly
the jets.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen genius,”
Terry said, sounding as if this was a typical argument.

“Who are you?” Steve called up to
Orville.

“Names Orville, Orville
Redenbacher.”

Steve and Terry looked at each
other again, then back at Orville. “As in the popcorn guy?” Steve asked.

“Just so,” Orville said, climbing
down from the jet.

“Are you serious?” Terry asked
when he was back at ground level.

“I’m afraid so.” They both looked
at him like he was crazy. “I’m a scientist. I hold no illusions. My mind
couldn’t quite cope with the stress of the apocalypse and being alone for so
long and, kinda, well . . . broke.”

“Your mind . . .
broke
?”
Terry asked.

“As in crazy?” Steve asked.

“Oh, very much so,” Orville said
with a smile.

“Okaaay,” Steve said.

“We should get back to shelter
before dark,” Orville said. “My car is this way.”

“You have shelter?” Terry asked,
perking up.

“Reinforced and well stocked.”

“We
should
get there before
nightfall. Zombies are more active at night.”

“Zombies?” Orville asked.

“Oh, come on,” Steve said. “Even a
crazy person must know the world has been overrun by zombies.”

“Zombies don’t worry me,” Orville
said.

“They don’t?” Steve and Terry
asked together.

“Oh, no. I cured zombieism, ages
ago.”

“What?!” they both asked in shock.

“Oh, yeah. It’s not the zombies
you gotta worry about,” Orville said as they reached a massive black SUV. He
opened the door. “No, it’s the vampires
I’m
scared of,” he said,
climbing in.

Steve and Terry just looked at
each other, then around them, as if a vampire were going to jump out at any
minute. They both quickly climbed into the SUV.

“Vampires?” Terry asked once they
were inside.

“Oh yeah.” Orville started the car
up and drove away from the port.

“Vampires don’t exist,” Steve
said.

“Oh, they do now,” Orville said
with a smile.

“How?” Terry asked.

“I was tasked with curing the
zombie virus.”

“But how does that equate to
vampires?”

“Well the thing to overcome with
zombies is how do you cure someone who has decomposed to the extent that most
zombies have? I came across a rare blood type stored in one of our labs. It was
similar to human DNA, but not quite. I mutated it and was able to cure zombies.
Not only did it kill the zombie virus, it regenerated their bodies till they
were good as new.”

“And then it turned them into
vampires?” Steve asked.

“Just so.”

They reached a massive house. They
climbed out of the SUV and Orville led them inside. All the doors and windows
had massive steel shutters that could be slid shut. That was the first thing
Steve and Terry noticed. The lights were the second.

“You have electricity?” Terry
asked excitedly.

“Supplied by generators,” Orville
said with a smile.

“You seem quite chipper,
considering,” Steve said.

“It’s the psychosis,” Orville said
with another smile. “Not quite a full break with reality, but enough to make it
seem kinda not real, like a video game.”

“Oh, terrific,” Terry said. He
turned to Steve. “He’s like you, only not on purpose.”

“Hey!” Steve said.