Zombie Rehab (6 page)

Chapter 11

Location Unknown

H
e was okay, just humiliated, but it was worth it just to see another human being in the room with him again. Nate felt no shame as he sat in a wheel chair, naked, while Rose wiped him down and helped him change his clothes. His hard gaze remained fixed on Walker, who was leaning back in a corner with a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Aren’t there any rules against that?” he said, nodding at Walker.

“Against what?” Walker replied.

Rose rolled her eyes as she stuffed his dirty clothes into a plastic bag and slung them in the corner.

“Smoking, Dickhead.”

Walker sucked on his cigarette and laughed as he flicked is ashes in the floor.

Rose said, “Walker, quit that. You know I have to clean that up.”

“Ah, I’m sorry Rose, I forgot,” he said, rubbing the ashes into the tiled floor with his booted toe.

“I’d hate to see where you live,” she said as she helped Nate back into his bed.

His stomach gave a loud growl.

“Oh, I’ll be right back with your Milk and Honey,” Rose said, pinching his cheek.

Nate sat in the bed and continued his glare into the mirrored eyes of the man in black. He hated the man. One of the most vivid memories he had was of the man taking out a shotgun and blowing away his fiancé Jeanine’s face. Instinctively, his hand went to his chest.

“Feeling sentimental, are we?” Walker said, dangling from his hand the necklace that Jeanine had given Nate.

“Hey!”

Walker flung the necklace, hitting him square in the face. The gold metal was warm as he inspected it. It was his, the tiny figurine of Jesus on the cross with every detail in place that he remembered. He let out a relived sigh as he began to realize that he was alive, and everything around him was not some distorted dream. “I suppose I have you to thank for this,” he said quietly.

“I suppose so,” Walker said as he walked over and sat in the wheel chair.

“Not you, Douche Bag—Jesus!”

“Oh …” Walker said as he began rolling back and forth in the wheel chair. “My uncle used to ride one of these. Pretty cool.”

Nate put the cross back around his neck and shook his head.
Psychotic idiot!

Rose made her way back into the room, sat along the edge of the bed, and handed Nate the warm cup of milk. It was the same one he remembered from earlier, marked in blue and gold lettering, with a small chip along the rim.

“When did you take this?”

“I didn’t,” Rose said, “he did.”

A memory bulb popped inside Nate’s mind as the image of Walker spitting in his favorite coffee cup came to life. He remembered now, like it was just seconds ago. He’d been drugged, paralyzed as a pair of strong hangs held him up like a doll. Walker sat before him, calling him names, mocking him and spitting tobacco juice in his mug. He drew his mug-filled hand back.

“Stop it, Nate; you don’t want to do that,” Rose warned.

“He’s a murderer, Rose! He’s a bastard murdering creep!”

Tears were rolling from his eyes and soaking into the wiry hairs of his beard. His arm was quaking, and the liquid began to spill onto the sheets. Rose took the mug from him and rubbed his face like he was a little boy.

“Nate,” she said softly, “He’s not a murderer, and I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this,” she cleared her throat as she gave a scornful look at Walker, “but he’s the man who brought you to us. He saved your life.”

Nate was looking into her eyes, searching for lies and deceit, but he only saw the truth. The truth was something that he had become obsessed with over the past couple of years, but if all of his time representing the WHS taught him anything, it was that truth was hard to find. He looked over at Walker. The man’s head was cast down, elbows on his knees, blowing smoke rings at the floor.

“Nah, I don’t believe it. He killed Christy. I saw him. Why would he kill Christy?” he said, searching Rose’s face for an answer.

She looked over at the man in the wheel chair and cleared her throat.

Walker didn’t respond.

She did it again.

“Okay Rose, you don’t have to yell,” Walker said as he stood back up and faced Nate. “You want to know why Christy was killed? Do you?”

“Yes!”

“Because she was about to kill you, Dumbass! There, I said it, Rose. Happy?”

“No, well yes, but you need to explain.”

Nate’s mind spun like a blender. Why in the world would Christy kill anyone? Why would anyone want to kill him? It had to be a lie.

“LIAR!” he screamed.

“I told you he was an idiot. How am I supposed to work with an idiot?”

Nate felt Rose take his hand in hers as she said, “I’ll explain, Nate. Walker isn’t much of a talker, it appears.”

“I don’t believe you or him!”

Nate was angry and confused. For all he knew, the WHS was behind all of this. Walker was behind all of this. Maybe Harry was on the other side of the door, waiting to surprise him. If he was alive, maybe Christy Backwater was, too. His eyes darted to every nook and cranny of the room, searching for cameras, lenses, anything. He had done the same thing back in his apartment.
This can’t be true; it can’t be happening.
But, in his heart he knew it was real.

“Nate, I’m going to explain. Just, look at me, and settle down. I have your back, remember.”

He nodded. Exhausted, he slumped backward, closed his eyes, and said, “Go ahead. I guess it can’t hurt too bad coming from you.”

“First, let me tell you about Christy. She was going to kill you. She was a WHS spy of sorts, deep cover. She was going to make it look like an overdose. That’s where all the drugs came from. But, being the slut she was, she decided to give you a couple of extra rides, for kicks I guess. You must have been pretty good if she let you live through the night.”

A half-smile creased his face as the blood drained from it.

“If it weren’t for that, you would’ve been dead. Our people tipped us off about the plan to have you killed, and we had been watching you. That’s where Walker came in. He’s the one that came in and took out Christy.”

“What about the other guy, the big one that jerked me around like a doll?”

“Oh him. Don’t worry about him; he’s dead now,” Rose said, matter-of-factly.

The room began to feel less like a hospital and more like a morgue as Nate stiffened inside his covers and took another sip of his drink.
I bet that guy’s on the other side of the door, just waiting for them to call.

“You know,” Nate said, “it doesn’t seem likely that Christy was a spy. I mean, I left her on the bed. She was out cold almost. I find it hard to believe that she was going to take a nap right before she was going to kill me.”

“She wasn’t asleep, Stupid,” Walker said.

“How do you know that?”

“We were in the closet the whole time, you know, the one that was almost as big as your bedroom. It was a great hiding spot.” Walker huffed some smoke. “And she was watching you the entire time after you left. Not a minute passed before she was on the move, but I could see the whites of her eyes as I popped her in the head.”

Nate shuddered inside at the callousness of the statement. The man was nothing more than a stone cold killer with a heart of coal.

“You enjoy killing, don’t you?”

“Only when it’s evil.”

The statement caught Nate off guard.

“Jeanine wasn’t evil,” he retorted.

“Jeanine was a zombie, Moron, remember? Did you lock her in that cell because you were scared she’d kiss you, or eat you? Besides … I had my orders.”

Nate shook his head and said, “So, you wouldn’t have killed her, otherwise?”

As Walker stepped away he said, “It had to be done … eventually.”

Something in the man’s voice had the sound of a hint of compassion. For all Nate knew, Walker might have had to put his own family down. Even Nate had done that himself, but he had managed to bury those thoughts over the years.

“So, why is my face changed?”

Rose explained to him that Walker and Leo slipped him out of his apartment building in the dark of the storm. It was a lucky thing because the WHS was moving in fast to secure the scene. It wasn’t long before the news spread that Nate McDaniel had killed Christy Backwater in a murder suicide.

That’s when he retched.

Chapter 12

Institute, WV

H
enry sighed just outside of his and Tori’s room. His mind recalled the last time they had a big fight, a little over a week ago. Tori had been upset over her uncooked food in a restaurant and on the very cusp of making a scene when Henry suggested that she ‘settle down.’ And she had, sitting quietly in her chair, steaming within like a baked potato while he paid the bill. Every footstep he took back to the car left him feeling as if he was closing in on his own grave. She hadn’t even given him time to open her door as she jerked it open and slammed it shut. He hated that. Calmly, he entered his vehicle and began to drive out of the parking lot. As soon as they had made their way up the interstate ramp, she had let him have it. Hurricane Tori had arrived with all of the fury of an Italian army. He could swear his ears had been ringing after the chewing out he had taken, but he’d survived.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Those words would have to be the first ones to cross his lips, as there weren’t any flower shops available. He backed away from the door.
I’ve got more important things to do.
He could always claim he had overlooked her text, or that his phone’s battery was dead. He looked at the peephole.
She probably hasn’t seen me yet.
He began pacing back and forth in the dormitory hall that once was a thriving living space for many students. His uncle used to live just one floor above. He stopped in front of the door again, pushed his glasses back on his nose, and rubbed his sweaty hands on his slacks.

He hadn’t given much thought to what he had done by throwing her out of the car, so to speak. But didn’t he have every right to be angry? She was the one that should be begging for his forgiveness, not him, for getting mad, but Tori wasn’t the most reasonable person. No, she was a passionate creature whose heart was always exposed. He started to creep away.
Everyone’s going to hear her screaming at me.

“Get in here, Henry! I already saw you through the peephole,” she shouted from somewhere inside the room.

There was no turning back now.

“Now!”

As his hand closed around the knob, he took a deep breath and stepped inside. It was dim, but the smell of her sweet perfume hung heavy in the air. His eyes darted all over the room, but Tori was nowhere to be found. The bed was made, the closet doors were closed, and the desk was neat and tidy. Everything was in place, except him. He felt very out of place.

His body shuddered as he heard the sound of a commode flush. From behind the closed bathroom door, he heard her voice.

“Have a seat on the bed, Henry. I’ll be out to deal with you in a second, even though you didn’t show me the same courtesy, but took your time getting down here.”

He sat down on the bed and waited for her to come out. Only a small lamp by the bed was lit, but the room seemed darker than normal somehow.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
It was the only way to diffuse her ... he hoped.

When she emerged from the bathroom, every drop of blood rushed from one head to the other. She stood before him like a dark angel. Her thick locks of auburn hair cascaded down her back, and a long pair of silk black gloves reached up to her elbows. That was all she wore as her voluptuous body came closer to his. He could feel the heat begin to rise between them as she came closer. His mouth watered as his eyes met hers that were so seductive, hungry, and dark.

Her voice was bittersweet as she said, “Take your clothes off.”

Henry obliged.

“Lie down on the bed, but leave your glasses on.”

Henry was lying back on the pillow, allowing her smooth legs to slowly straddle him. He closed his eyes as she pushed herself down on top of him.

“What—”

“Ssssh … I’ll do the talking.”

Then she said as the bed began to rock, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry …”

A ride on the world’s fastest roller coaster couldn’t have been more exciting, but it would have lasted longer. Still, she was just as sweaty as he was when they both sagged onto the bed and held each other tight. Henry was still trying to catch his breath as he said, “I’m sorry, too.”

Chapter 13

Location Unknown

N
ate’s head was swimming as he rinsed out his mouth with a bottle of water.
I’m a murderer?
Rose had been trying to explain to him that after the assassination attempt on him failed and he disappeared, the only option the WHS had was to discredit him. It made sense, but still, why did they want to have him killed? He was harmless. He did whatever it was they told him to do. He wiped his mouth off on the washcloth, tossed it to the floor, and said, “Okay Rose, tell me, why did they want to kill me?”

She squeezed his hand and began.

“Nate, almost a year ago you accidentally pried into one of the greatest conspiracies of all time. Before the WHS was formed, they were little more than some government program that did research on Paranormal activities: ghosts, vampires, werewolves, mummies, I mean all kinds of fantasy stuff. As it turns out, that was just a cover for another black operation that did biological and genetic research on people … living people.”

“That’s great. Is that where I am now?” Nate asked.

“No, but I’ll get to that. This agency created a biochemical weapon—highly contagious—that could be passed from saliva into the blood stream. This organization, along with our powerful leadership here in America—”

“Ah, I haven’t been deported; that’s good. I know I must be at most ten miles from a Taco Bell.”

Rose rolled her eyes.

“As I was saying, America and the UN came up with a brilliant idea for population control. They created zombies and turned them loose in the most populated cities in the world. As you know, it spread like fire, wiping out over a billion people before you sent the Tweet that saved the world.”

“Ah the good ole’ days,” Nate said with a laugh.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” she said with a grim look on her face.

“Do you have any proof?”

“Not that I can show you.”

“Then I don’t believe you, Rose, so moving on, why did they want to wipe out the world? How did they plan on stopping the virus to begin with? Humor me.”

Walker stepped into his view and said, “I’ll take it from here, Rose. Okay, Turd, I’ll tell you why.”

Nate stared at the man, hypnotized by his words. Walker’s voice drew him in like a moth to a flame as the deep Southern voice rolled from his tongue like honey. The brash tone was gone, replaced by something almost poetic, in a redneck sort of way.

“Okay,” Nate said, without realizing he had even spoken.

“Seven billion people and with a billion more, the powers that be won’t be able to control them. I mean what are you going to do when you run out of food, water, medicine and the like? The brilliance of the world leaders was to kill people rather than let nature take its course. Think about it. People are living longer and longer. There isn’t so much famine or disease, and even the death counts from war are down. It’s pretty much up to natural disasters to slow down the population.”

Nate shrugged as he finished off his milk and honey, and said, “That was wonderful, Rose. Can I have some more?”

“I’ll be right back,” she said with a wink.

“But—?”

“Settle down. I won’t shoot you, Idiot.”

“Why do you keep insulting me?”

He could tell Walker’s stone cold face wasn’t going to give him an answer to that.

“Okay, Walker, so we have too many people, and they created zombies, and they want to create a new world with less people. Why not have a nuclear war?”

Walker put his booted foot up on the bed, rubbed the toes with the washcloth he’d discarded earlier, and said, “Because of all the fallout. You can’t spend time at the beach in Malibu if there’s a nuclear winter … Idiot.”

Nate was smarter than this. As the veil of fog began to lift from his mind, he began trying to put things together. Greed, power, and control. Sure, he could buy that, but someone, somewhere was pulling all of the strings. The question was, who? The whole idea had to start somewhere.

“I’m not buying it. I just don’t think anybody could pull it off. Not like you said, anyway.”

“You honestly think this is all an accident? Now, think about that. The zombies showed up all over the world, not in just one place.”

“So who did it, then? I mean, you say the WHS, but who is really behind the WHS, and where in the hell am I, anyway?”

“You are safe; that’s all that matters,” Rose said as she re-entered the room.

“What do you mean, I’m ‘safe’? Safe from what, zombies? The WHS? Why did you do all this to me?”

Nate could see Rose’s light brown eyes reflecting from Walker’s mirrored glasses. There was a hint of fear in them. Walker shrugged and continued rubbing spit into his black leather boot.

“Nate, you are a hero.”

“So I’ve been told, but now I’m a murderer, so I don’t see how that helps my situation now.”

She patted his hand and said, “Just take a second and think about why you are here, right now.”

He tugged as the short hairs on his beard. It was a new sensation to him, playing with an unfamiliar face.
I’ve never had a beard before.

“I’m here because you guys brought me here,” he retorted.

“I told you he wasn’t that smart. It took him seven seconds to answer that question,” Walker said, switching to polish his other boot.

Nate rolled his eyes and said, “Do that somewhere else, G.I. Scarecrow!”

Walker let out a laugh.

Rose continued saying, “Why do you think we brought you here? We could have let you die. Walker and Leo, God rest his soul, risked their lives for you.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed.

“So you say.”

“Why then, Nate?”

“Because I’m a hero?” he said, with a funny look of uncertainty.

“Bingo, Dickwad,” Walker said as he resumed his place back in the wheel chair.

“Nate, you stopped one of the biggest conspiracies of all time and saved millions of lives, maybe billions. People love you. I love you. Walker loves you, even though he won’t admit it.”

“Hah,” Nate said, noticing Walker’s face was downcast toward the floor.

“Doctor Z loves you.”

“The guy that hit you?”

Rose blanched.

“You saw that?” she asked, rubbing her cheek.

He nodded.

“Well, don’t worry about that, Nate. I can take care of myself. He’s just different. Just does a lot of things before he realizes he did them. It’s okay.” She rubbed his ankle and said, “But it’s awful sweet of you to care.”

Her touch was as soothing as her honey and milk. He leaned back, and his eyes became heavy. He yawned. His face started to ache.

“Okay, everybody loves me, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Nate, we’re WHS insiders. Some of us work for them, but we don’t like them. They’re evil.”

“Aren’t all government entities?” he said.

“No, but this one is. Listen Nate, when some of our insiders figured out you were being terminated, we became furious. There’s a lot of people that work in the WHS just because of you, because—“

“I know, they love me.”

“They were loyal to you, and because of you they wanted to help the zombies, but they were misled. The WHS couldn’t care less about the zombies. They only want to control the people with the zombies. Think about it: they’ve taken billions in estates to fund their projects. The zombies’ property was seized in that bogus zombie bill that stated all properties belonging to the zombies will go towards the cure and prevention of zombies.”

“It’s bullshit,” Walker added.

Rose nodded. “And now they went and pegged you for a murder. You want to know something, Nate?”

“Anything believable would be nice.”

“Seventy-five out of one hundred people believe you are still alive and you didn’t kill Christy Backwater.”

“Now that, I believe … sort of.” The tightness in his chest began to subside. “Why?”

“Conspiracy. The bogus funeral they threw for you, closed coffin and all, didn’t settle with the American public very well. Well, most of the world as a matter of fact.”

“Except for the Euro-trash. The Norwegians—like me—were pretty sure you did it,” Walker laughed as he lit another cigarette. “Most of Scandinavia, too.”

“So you think of yourself as trash? Me, too.”

Walker blew a smoke ring his way and said, “Well, at least I know who I am when I look in the mirror every day.”

Nate looked back at Rose and said, “I thought you said he loved me?”

“Oh he does; he’s just got a funny way of showing it.”

Rose’s voice was like a mother’s, telling a child a bedtime story. He felt his energy begin to ebb.

Rose said, “I think you need more rest. We’ll come back.”

It was hard to say no. He didn’t want to fight drowsiness, so he motioned for her to continue on.

“Okay, so you guys saved me. I still have a following, and some of you have risked your lives to protect me. But, now you’ve changed my face, I guess so you can hide me. I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense to let me go out in public and debunk the entire thing?”

“You’d be dead,” Walker added.

“True, but we could go viral and expose them.”

“You’d be dead, Stupid, and we’d be dead, too.”

“Oh,” he said, scratching his beard. He was getting used to it. “So, you changed my face to hide me, so other people don’t know me.”

“Yes,” Rose said.

“Kinda like protective custody, huh?”

“Exactly. But they are looking for you, Nate. One slip up and this operation is gone, and it’s the only operation that can stop them.”

“Stop them from doing what? They have all of the power and control it seems. What else are they going to do with the zombie funds?”

“It’s going toward other things, more sinister things.”

“We’ll what could be more sinister than planning a worldwide genocide with zombies?”

He could feel Walker’s mirrored eyes on him, and his blood turned to ice when she said:

“Another zombie outbreak.”