Zombie Rehab

Zombie Rehab - Impact Series: Book 2

Copyright March 2014 by Craig Halloran

TWO-TEN BOOK PRESS

P.O. Box 4215, Charleston, WV 25364

www.twotenbookpress.com

Second Kindle Edition: 2014

ISBN Paperback: 978-0-9884642-1-6

ISBN Ebook: 978-0-9884642-0-9

Information about this author and his other works available at:

www.thedarkslayer.com

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system and transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in review.

Publishers Note:

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the actual persons, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Location Unknown

H
e was moving under a series of bright fluorescent lights. The glare hurt his eyes, but he was determined to keep them open. He had to figure out where he was. His mind fought to regain control of his body, which strained against the leather bonds that had him strapped to the gurney. At least, he thought he was fighting, but his limbs were more like jelly, and his mind was mush. The only thing he recognized was the thump-thump of the gurney wheels rolling over the tiles of the long corridor.

He could have sworn he was hung over and being pushed in a grocery cart over an unpaved parking lot. He retched. His mouth filled with the tang of bile. A blurry figure jerked his head up and was shouting something unintelligible. He was dizzy; the lights above were beginning to blur together like the white dashes on a highway. A sharp pain pierced his arm, causing him to break out into a cold sweat.
What is going on?

There were several of them, shaped like men but moving like ghosts. He tried to find an outline, recognize a face, let his mind find something that was familiar. Instead, there was nothing, just a corridor that began to swirl and spin into a vortex. He felt euphoria as his frantic eyelids became heavy and he plunged into the darkness.

His eyes snapped open. Something was chiseling on his face. His body convulsed and shuddered as a group of faceless people scrambled and screamed.

“He’s resisting! He’s resisting! Dammit, who prepped him! Get the anesthesiologist.”

Bloodied gloves were holding sharp shining objects, and the ghosts began to rush around him. A pair of eyes looked deep into his, large and disturbing.

“Give him more! Give him more …”

He faded into a bright patch of lilies.

He woke up incapacitated and in pain. His eyes flickered open only to gaze at the darkness of a quiet room. There was a smell of chlorine and ammonia in the air, and urine, too. Inside his sluggish mind he sensed someone else in the room, at his side, gazing with heavy eyes.

“Mrmphh …” he moaned.

He regretted it. His jaw felt like it was broken, and the rest of his face seemed like a busted vase.
Ah … I don’t understand! Help me someone! Help me!

A shadow was moving by his side, silent. Perfume. It was nice, like something from heaven. A figure crossed in front of him, this shape more defined than the last, comely, tangible, real.
No, don’t leave me!
The figure passed into a dark frame and vanished. His eyes began to water. He wanted to move his arms and legs, but he couldn’t feel them. He began to wonder if he even had them. Something soft was obstructing part of his view, like cotton, tape, or gauze.
Hospital? Hospital!

He tried to remember the last thing that happened to him. His mind was so dreary, exhausted like a car that had run out of gas. Nothing seemed capable of unlocking the vault of knowledge that was within him. It was blocked, either by his own desire or something else. He knew he should be able to remember something, but he couldn’t.

There were sounds now. He could hear the hum of an air conditioner and feel the cool air rushing on his eyes.

Beep..Beep..Beep.

It was a steady sound that he found comforting. He was somewhere, and he was alive. That had to be a good thing. He just wished his face didn’t hurt so much. What had happened to him? Where in the world was he? As he stared up at the ceiling, he noticed the tiles were loose and water stained, and there was a drip coming from somewhere, landing on the floor and not in a sink. He began to wonder how it was he could understand what these things were but he couldn’t remember a thing about who he was. Everything was confusing.

“Mrmphh! MRMRPHH!”

Pain exploded in his face, and the beeping at his bedside began to increase its pace. Two figures in light green scrubs rushed upon him from the darkened doorway. One was a man and the other a woman, he could tell that much, but they were both faceless. As he turned his neck to get a better look it felt like someone was driving a stake in his neck.

“Hrrumph!” he tried to say help.

Tears were filling his eyes as his mind pleaded for them to say something to him … anything. He felt a delicate hand dabbing the water from his eyes with a soft towel. He felt like his heart was going to burst, the feeling of humanity so close to touching him. He just wanted to reconnect, try to find out if he was still a human.
Why can’t I feel my limbs? Why?
He felt the hand pulling away, and he let out an audible sob.
NO! Come back!

He could make out the pair, huddled at the end of the bed. The man towered over the woman, and even though he was whispering, his voice was as deep as a well and callous as a stone.

“Do not let him revive again, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” she said with a quiver in her voice, “I swear I haven’t missed a single dose. Not one, and I‘ve checked the other shifts, too.”

“Shut up, I don’t need your feeble explanation. Give me his chart!”

As he lay in the bed he could see the doctor scribbling something on the clipboard. Then the big man shoved the clipboard into her hand and said, “That dose should take care of it, for another month at least.”

What! Another month! I’ve been under for a month? No.
That can’t be!

He swore he could feel the bones in his face seeping into his brain, and even though he couldn’t remember anything, he could recall despair. Something deep down inside him triggered a small chip of memories, horrible ones, something that had just happened that he’d just as soon forget. The doctor’s unpleasant tone interrupted his thoughts.

“Nurse, I don’t want to have to remind you that if you screw this up again … I’ll be getting rid of you. And you know what that means, don’t you?”

He could hear her sobbing reply, “Y-yes sir, I m mean Doctor Zhan—”

Slap!

He could feel his own cheek stinging from the blow as the nurse crumpled to the ground.

Hey! Why’d you hit her for?

“Mrmmf Fumphnhr!” It hurt so bad to say it he almost blacked out, and his stomach began to churn. He could hear the man walking away on heavy footsteps as the woman struggled to rise from the ground. He watched as her fuzzy outline slowly stepped behind him. He heard the sound of a small plastic wheel grinding and then something ice cold ran in his veins.

“NO!”

The pain was so bad, but he would rather deal with that than be knocked out for another month. Then he saw her face before his: round, sweet, and black. She was whispering something in his ear.

“It’s gonna be okay, Honey. It’s going to be okay, just hang in there.”

Please tell me where I am?

As the pain began to subside, he felt something warm squeezing his hand. It was her hand in his, and it felt wonderful as he drifted away into a dreamless slumber.

Chapter 2

Washington, D.C.

T
wo suited men were seated on a park bench near the Jefferson Memorial, soaking in the sun of a cool fall day. The leaves were turning in some places, but most of them still maintained their rich green colors. Both men sat comfortably, talking back and forth and nodding. The humming of a black Cadillac engine sounded nearby, with one stout man in a navy blue suit sitting on the hood and smoking. A semi-automatic pistol could be seen strapped inside is jacket, but none of the passersby noticed. He seemed to be enjoying the fresh air almost as much as his cigarette. He let out a breath of smoke, flicked his ashes, then took another puff. If he had any interest in what the men were saying, he didn’t show it. Instead, he watched and waited.

The taller man, bearded in white, turned, rested his elbow on the back of the bench, and faced the other. The younger man, maybe forty, remained seated with his hands clasped, stooped over with his elbows resting on his knees, eyes gazing at the tip of the Washington Monument in the distance.

“Come on, Jack, it’s going to be fine. She’ll come back to her senses. She needs you, and she loves you,” the older man said in a rich and soothing voice.

Jack shook his head as he ran his fingers back through his thick brown hair. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. The older man squeezed his shoulder with a reassuring grip and patted him on the back.

“Jack, women do crazy things. Even before the zombies they were crazy. It’s just stress, that’s all. Some time at home with her mother will do her some good. I know her mom; she’ll talk some sense into her.”

Jack took a deep breath as he sat up and then leaned back against the bench. “Her mom seems to be just as testy these days. I keep calling Angie there, but her mom’s been pretty nasty. Called me a selfish bastard.”

“Geez, Becky said that? That doesn’t seem like her at all. She was always so sweet. Hey, let me give Becky a call; I think I can smooth things over.”

“Don, I appreciate it, but right now I get the feeling that any more attempted interventions will make them madder.”

“Hah … Jack, they love getting mad. I’d keep it up because you know what will happen if you leave Angie alone too long?”

“What?”

“She’ll get even madder,” Don said, smiling and patting him on the shoulder.

“Great.”

Reaching over, Don grabbed his custom computer and set it on his lap. His aged fingers were as quick as a teen’s as he loaded one screen after the other. Whatever he was doing, Jack wasn’t paying much attention.

Don’s voice took on a dire tone as he asked, “You haven’t let Angie in on anything that’s going on, have you?”

Jack stiffened.

“No, absolutely not. I swear. That’s the problem, Don, we’re close, and I’m keeping in all of these secrets.”

“Is she still prying into your business?”

“No … Yes, it depends on the mood she’s in, I guess.”

“Listen to me, Jack: you can’t ever—I mean ever— tell her a thing, or it’s over. The WHS has trusted you with a great deal, and if you blow it you’ll be deader than a zombie before dawn.”

Jack sagged in his chair saying, “I know.”

“Angie and Becky will be, too.” Don cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I mean, you’re just out of their program, a couple of years, but still new, and you somehow wound up with knowledge you didn’t even know existed. But that knowledge gives you power, Jack. It protects you and your family. It protects me, your uncle, and you have to trust me and believe me that you cannot share what you know with anyone. Got it, Jack?”

Jack patted his uncle on his knee and said, “I won’t let you down, Don. I haven’t said a word, and I won’t. Not ever. You know you don’t have to worry about that. My mind is like a bank vault; even the most brilliant thieves would have trouble getting in there.”

Don laughed and said, “Okay, I know. I just want you to be careful. Extra careful. But you’ve got to get your household back to normal, else it will arouse suspicion. I figure your mother in-law’s house is already bugged.”

“Damn. You really think so?”

“Just being a little paranoid for you. Look, you’re gonna have to give Angie a convincing lie to get her back home. You’re going to have to convince her you were hiding something believable. Tell her you had an after hours encounter with a cocktail waitress or something.”

“What? She’ll castrate me!”

“Just a close call, nothing overly intimate. It’ll work. I mean, you’re a good-looking guy. It’s not like another woman hitting on you should surprise her.”

“Great,” Jack sighed, “and if that doesn’t work?”

“Then flip it on her, and accuse her of hiding something like an affair. Check her texts and Facebook posts. I’m sure there are plenty of saps out there flirting with her. Use it against her.”

“Gee Uncle Don, you sure are cold.”

“No, I’m a survivor, a realist. The walls of this world are closing in on us. The waters are rising fast; I’m just trying to keep my head above water. Yours as well. Now, let’s get down to business. What’s the latest on the XT Formula?”