Day 325 - Untitled Zombie Story Chapter 1.6 - (1,019 words)

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

UNTITLED ZOMBIE STORY

By Wayne Webb

Chapter 1.6

“We could just leave them here to what… die? Fade away maybe? Do they do that or do they need assistance?” Derek was musing out loud to his brother.

Neither man felt a huge threat like they had in the past; it was a stunning transformation in the last few hours. This time the day before they had been hiding out on a rooftop and wondering how long before the undead ever moved on, if they had to risk a run for it and how they could get away.

Now less than a day later they stood feet away from the undead bodies, animatedly jostling each other for position but minus all aggression and violence. This was acceptably undead, as if they were reanimated as purposeless machines, milling about not evil or good, just in existence.

James took the opportunity to remind Derek of their differing opinions. “If we hadn’t been so quick to dismiss him we could have asked Ben.”

“Jesus James, give it a rest?” Derek was reacting a unfairly, James had mentioned the rift between them over the new people they met only the once.

James had no sympathy for him, as if Derek could honestly stake a claim to the aggrieved party in this situation? “Touchy much? Maybe you’ll not be such a hard ass next time? After all it’s not just you that has to live with the consequences.”

“Dick.” Derek didn’t want to argue the point; he still did not trust any one he just met who magically appeared with all the solutions to their problems like that. When they wanted to end and argument quickly they just resorted to insults, trading them back and forth like currency in a delicate dance of equity and dominance displays.

“We can make noise again? Do you reckon music will wind them up in this state?” James was ignoring the insult and not wanting to draw Derek into the devolved state where they would argue, then name call and finally fight it out.

He had grown up, even a little now.

“We could try setting fire to them now? They don’t want to go anywhere now and it’s a good test. They are in the middle of a square with, little to no risk of spreading the fire.  If they stay where they are?”

“Perfect.” Derek was happy to be finally doing something and even if meant wasting some of their resources on these meat puppets. He pulled his gun and walked to a nearby zombie and placed the gun at this head, pulling the trigger quickly, cleanly and leaping back out of the way, eating for the kidnapper’s call.

The brain exploded in a flash and a loud bang, taking out the side of the zombies head and letting the body now disconnected from the driver, taking a dive to the pavement.

The greying goop that sprayed outwards and on to the other zombies in the group made no visible effect on the rest f the assembled zombies. They kept walking and shuffling, tripping and stumbling to a non-existent beat they all heard in their heads.

The undead nearest the fallen corpse, the now inanimate one, just lay there in the way of anyone who walked past, which is all of them now. Some climbed over and some stepped on his body, but no one slowed down or attempted to signal for help in anyway.

The grey mess on the ground smelled rank and foul. They decided to go for  the fire option to see it burning clean the dead and dying animal machines that congregated near their new base. 

“You want to do the honors?” Derek was offering he position of first kill to his bother, to extend an olive brake to calm the storm crisis in the family.

“Thanks, you know it all depends on wind and light and if this thing even works?”

“Stop making excuses before you’ve even started, bitch!” Derek snapped playfully.

They spread the accelerant in a circle around the zombies, and then James was feeling a bit braver again, and so he doused the inner levels with petrol too, waling among them and presenting no threat to himself at all.

Derek stayed on the sidelines and he had the matches.

“Come on that should be enough right?” Derek waited until James was clear and lit a match. He stood with it for a while; contemplating the fate he had made for himself.

Then the fire was burning and burning bright, it light up the after noon cloud hiding the sun, but burning none the less. The fire leapt from zombie to zombie and within minutes the whole square was ablaze, the rotting flesh of the zombies was catching, burning and fueling the fire. The intensity of the flame was greater than expected and it burned fast and strong. There was no smell of cooking meat or roasting flesh like you would expect. Instead there was a sharp and sickly bite in the air, like when plastic was being burned down.

They moved away from the burning mob of bodies, the hundred or more human torches stayed in the range of the spike. Whatever signal it was that made it through to the undead, it could not have just been hearing, they were burning away the skin and flesh and still not moving, when the insides had cooked and decayed enough from the flame then the white bone skeletons fell to the ground in piles of un-cohesive bone. Nothing to hold them together, joints were burned away and obliterated by the flames.

They stayed where they were until the loose collection of bones and remaindered internal organs, now just lumps of black charcoal and stark in contrast to the flayed and exposed cleaned bones, fell victim to gravity’s will. The brothers looking on the whole time, staying close as they could bear without succumbing to the heat and the smell.

Then it was all over and the smoldering and licking flames were cleaning up the remainder of parts, but not one of them was moving or animated in anyway.

Day 324 - Untitled Zombie Story Chapter 1.5 - (1,043 words)

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

UNTITLED ZOMBIE STORY

By Wayne Webb

Chapter 1.5

"What if they were on the level? Did you think about that?” James was sulking, Derek had not wanted to go with their erstwhile saviours and had elected to stay in the town, albeit with a few new extra ‘toys’ that the City Dwellers had left fpor them.

“Even if they were, so what?” Derek returned his position, it was unchanged and he mistrusted the intentions of the City Folk.

“Well we could be safe and secure and… we could find people and not be alone anymore?” James had not fell so acutely alone as he did when their new friends, or his new friends at least, left them behind and carried on with whatever mission they had.

“People? People are over-rated.” Derek dismissed the idea.

“But you’ll take their gear quite happily yeah?”

Derek said nothing but he still had the device in his hands and they were still under the protection of the ones in the street not far from the building where they had taken cover.

When they had all come around the corner the first of a line of devices was stuck, forcefully into the ground, each device was a small box on top of a solid metal spike that was driven into the ground. The ‘gunfire’ that they had head was in fact a pneumatic device used to punch the hole in the road surface to fix the spike to the ground; each one was done in quick succession by the team. The Rat-tat-tat of the drill bit slamming into the breaking road and the cracking of the surface gave the impression of a series of bullets being fired, especially as some of the spikes were done in overlapping succession, as they spread out the devices into a line. 

The line lead along the street to an open area a roundabout intersection where there was a final device in the line that was on the small mound in the center, slightly higher than the others but in all other respects, exactly the same. The box’s were ultra sonic emitters according to Ben, and it transmitted on a frequency that only the undead were interested in. It was too low for dogs and too low for ordinary humans to hear, but something in the physiology of the recently deceased allowed them to hear it and flock towards the sound.

There was a theory, according to Ben anyway, that as the human ear deteriorated more and more the tympanic membrane became hypersensitive to the vibrations at that frequency. The scientists they had in the City that they had gathered together over time had been working on ways to eliminate the undead threat, when the unlikely combination of radio engineer and Veterinarian came up with the elegant discovery that they could be baited and waylaid with sound.

The idea that you could easily distract and confuse them was hardly anything new of course, but the ingeniously simple devices that the two men came up with was the thing that sealed the deal.  The vet discovered the frequency and the first test device they put into operation yielded amazing results.

The noise pacified them as well as distracting the undead.

The sonic devices made everyone who felt the vibration, alive and undead alike, calmed down and took things a little less seriously. They were all armed to the teeth and not once did they seem threatening or militant. It was hard to believe that any one among them had ever fired a gun in defence let alone in anger or aggression.

“They’re all brain washed into being passive while the world falls apart! Is that what you want? Really?” Derek was looking inside the device he had pried from the ground.

The thing was he knew that the device was trying to give his mind a pasting right now, he could sense the edges of his mind being poked and prodded, he felt sleepy like he was very tired and ready to have a nap. He knew it was un real, that was why he fought against it, unlike his brother and the cadre of people who had come to rescues them.

These boxes worked well enough to flock the Zombies to one spot, but what to do with them then? They still had a hundred or more of the undead nuisances assembled around this roundabout, and the scouting team looking for a new location for their second city had long gone. They had left the devices and explained the science behind them. Derek pretended to understand what it was all about, but ultimately he saw the devices as only half the job.

“We could do it manually you know, how’re your arms office boy?” Derek was referring to the clearing of the zombies around the corner. According to the team who had captured them with these devices, they had slung a temporary fence around the group. That was unnecessary because as long as the devices were transmitting there was no way they were going anywhere, but it did give a sense of security.

The fence would never have held against the combined strength of the horde, but it kept the stragglers in check and within a contained perimeter.

Ben had made an offer to rid the town of the zombies, pied piper style. “We could lead them out with a sonic procession of the boxes, the emitters on sticks you know the things in the ground? We could prise them up and move them too you know? And we totally have more of them, the sticks I mean.”

“Thanks but no.” Derek was firm in his rejection and the relief was noticeable in Ben’s face, not because it was a daunting job but because it was a laborious one and he did not want to do it. Another side effect of the sonic emitters was a depleted social conscience. It was not gone, not exactly, but it was much lower than it had been before the device had turned on.

James wanted to see the City, see what they had to offer, but family came first. It had to, Derek was the only link to his heritage, outside of the old homestead, that was left to James, and James to Derek.

Day 323 - Untitled Zombie Story Chapter 1.4 - (1,169 words)

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

UNTITLED ZOMBIE STORY

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 1.4

“We have food and drink in the convoy if you want to come with us?” Ben was being very polite as his mother looked on. If it were not for the very serious situation they were in, it could have been comical. In reality, where they were very uncomfortable already, this just added to the sense of unease with the sudden and miraculous saviors that appeared.

“We have food and drink already, we were just cut off from the storage area.” James said but Derek quickly cut in and tried to play down any concept of large storage.

“We don’t have much so there’s always room to have some, if you have so much yourselves. I mean we’d only have enough for…”

“Don’t worry we’re not interested in your stocks, your stash or whatever. Food production is not a problem, if anything we have too much, we are not interested in taking yours.” Ben waved away the thought as if it were childish.

“I didn’t say you were.” Derek returned with some suspicion. “But it’s interesting that you have raised it.

“Not really.” Interjected Margaret, Ben’s mother and self appointed supervisor. “It’s a common fear in rescues, when we leave them alone and come back to check on them later, they usually decided to join us, but the choice is always on them.”

“You. The choice is on you now. We can take you to the city, where we can guarantee your safety.” Ben said, firmly putting the offer there for them to consider. “As Marg…” his mother shot him a look. “… As Mrs Johnson says, the more suspicious survivors are reticent to join, there have been some problems in the cities, but we’ve solved most of those.”

“Really? Solved? I doubt that.” Derek was looking for reasons to turn them down, James stayed quiet wondering what those solutions looked like and who was a part of their city.

“What city? Where? Which one?”  James was fiddling with the gun that he had not relinquished. So far the new arrivals had not attempted to disarm or make any demands on the brothers, they kept their weapons and were given all the space and freedom they did not expect.

“It’s not … it’s a new city, we are just over fifty thousand residents and we have a new area that we are making the new City. It’s not safe in the old cities, we need more space between people and we need special configurations to keep everyone safe from the Zombies.” Ben’s eyes lit up at talk of the new City.

“Does this place, this new City have a name?” Derek asked, hoping that the name would shed some light on their intentions.

“It’s just the City for now.” Said Margaret.

“The name is up for a public vote next week, we don’t need a name exactly, but we were scouting locations for a new greenfields site so we can start a new City. Fifty thousand is a little too much and we need flat open plains to set up the new City. Since we are on to our second, it’s time to look at distinguishing the two. I like name Stork City, that one is leading in the opinion polls.”

“Opinion Polls? You have what? Television, radio or phones or what?” James was remembering the advantages of living in a City, the things that his home town lacked or at least did not have the scale of to make a difference.

“We have…”

“Why don’t you come and see for yourself? You won’t believe it until you see it.” Margaret seemed much more forceful than Ben, who was trying to be laid back, and she was in full court press. “You won’t believe it, anymore than the other young people who had joined us after being alone and defenseless in the world. Young women…” she looked sideways at Derek. “… or young men?”

“We’ll pass thanks.” Said Derek drily, not commenting on the suggestion that he was looking for something different.

“Hang on a minute, WE haven’t passed OR accepted yet thank you!” the pointed part of his words were directed at his brother, not the people who had saved them.

“Look, we appreciate you intervention, the distracting the undead and shooting them all, that’s great and all…” Derek continued as if James had said nothing, but Ben raised a finger to correct him.

“Um shooting what now? We didn’t shoot the Zombies, they are very much alive, or… well Dead really, but undead in that way… well we didn’t shoot them anyway.”

“We heard you? We heard the gunfire? What do you mean they’re alive? Why are we not … where are they?”

“Oh they’re just over there.” Ben pointed to a nearby corner where they thought the gunfire had been coming from and where the small group of men and one woman had calmly come from.

“I … don’t understand… we heard gunfire. Ducked, I ducked it was so loud I thought you were shooting at us!” James was confused and he looked at his brother who had heard enough.

“I’m going to have a look right now! Don’t try and stop me!” He raised his gun and waved it uncertainly at the small group of four men and a woman, surprised by the lack of worry they were displaying.

“Go ahead, just don’t touch the machines, please? Then we will have problems and we’ll have to … we’ll probably have to shoot them then, but that’s kind of a waste of bullets and they… we’re not swimming in them ok?”

“Ben! Don’t tell them that! We’re well armed thank you, more than enough to take care of them and anyone that comes after us!” Margaret looked more offended than threatened though.

“I’m going!” Derek said and he walked away from them backwards keeping his gun trained on the people, who again looked undisturbed by the threat. A few more feet away and he accepted that they were not bothered by him and he was free to go. Derek waved to James to come with him and reluctantly his brother jogged over to join him and as he did so the group started to follow.

“Hey! Stop there now!” Derek snapped the gun back to aim at them again. “Don’t try anything!”

“We’re not going to try anything! Honestly we’re only here to talk to you and offer you the chance to join us, but if you don’t want to come that’s fine too. You’re not the first to turn us down, won’t be the last either I assume. But there’s not reason for us to stay right here is there, and you are bound to have questions when you see what we’ve done right? So how about we all just chill the fu… how about we all just calm down and walk together?” Ben pulled the f-word from his speech before his mother even got a chance to register it’s presence and bring it up.

Day 322 - Perfectly Executed. - Chapter 6 (1,080 Words)

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

PERFECTLY EXECUTED

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 5.2

“Jane?” Edward was having trouble standing, the legs that had been working so well for his life up until now suddenly paralysed and unwilling to comply with his intention to stand upright.

This was impossible, no it was improbable. He knew it was not impossible, because that was the entire premise of his exercise; to make the previously thought impossible, probable and what’s more, likely. To see Jane was paralyzing and shocking, even though he had been building up to this very moment he had planned on it being on the other side of the ‘impossible’ problem.

“Edward” Jane smiled but it did not feel warm or welcoming at all, like she saw him differently.

“How?” He finally asked as he sat down into a chair that one of the other Board members pushed behind his legs.

“You know how, it’s your idea. It’s just that your ahead of yourself, or you were once, twice and more. Oh. It’s not as easy as it looks is it?” Jane stumbled from sentence to thought and back again before staring at the man that she had shared some point of the time stream with.

“I know how to travel in time, I do, that’s my… how do you know and how did you get here? You’re older than you should be? When did you travel? Why did you travel?” Edwards mind was working overtime, it was all possible of course but he could not conceive of how this scenario had been arrived at. This was a potential side effect and consequence of doubling back on your own time line; of course he had figured this into his calculations for himself, but not other people.

This had happened before, this much was deducible, and the consequences of the previous trips such as they were meant that somehow things were bad enough to leave him with the loss of his wife and child. How could that be a better outcome? That was the question, what was so bad that he would consciously choose to allow his wife and child to die this way?

“What was the other choice?”  he asked Jane his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke, the other people in the room barely registering.

“There was no other choice Edward. He did not know that it would lead to the path that you have ended up on, if anything we though we had finally fixed the problem, but we had not. The loss of… watching myself and my children die in that way, that was traumatic and unexpected.”

“My daughter?” Her had to ask, was she going to appear from nowhere and present herself to him now?

“Your sons, actually.” Jane said and nodded to the men around the table. Boxing them in.

“I don’t have a son, I have… had a daughter.” Edward looked about the room and he was seeing some similarities in the group of men about the table. They were not versions of him, they were genetic copies, in the natural sense, these were his offspring? “Where is she?”

“Messing with the time stream can have catastrophic consequences, we have proven this over and over again Edward.” Jane looked at the table and not at him directly. “We also know there is no stopping you and no way to control the outcome, all we can do is try and not repeat our past mistakes, and try not ruin the future anymore than we have already.”

“Tell me.” He said quietly, firmly and still determined to fix the past and recover the woman who had died, because this was not the same woman. She looked the same and sounded the same, at least in her voice if not her exact personality. There had been differences in their experiences, this was expected if you thought about it, but something else must be different too.

“The time of conception?”

“Yes, the first time you went back things started to change but only you knew about it, so you worked with Francis to find a way to change the past again, you looked into the cause and effect. Your first son, George, he never came back, not in the way that you knew, and the same happened to Francis. You both lost people and it affected you in different ways. You strove for an answer and Francis, he looked for meaning where there was no meaning, and it took it’s … toll I guess.” Jane looked at the man who had lead him into the room, now recognizable as a relative of himself, apparently one of his many, many sons, since the time had been changed so distinctly.

“I don’t know who you are talking about?” Edward did not recall any other members of the team named Francis, and the name made no recollections any easier.

“You recall Francis Reid?” Jane was speaking to him and once again avoiding eye contact.

“From University? He was a lab partner and a research colleague, sure but that was twenty years ago.

“He was the first amendment, you took him out of your life early on, and there was trouble emanating from that point. He did not handle the transition to the time long past very well. He was instituionalised and forgotten about, and we carried on with our experiments, allowing you to develop on your own, feeding you inspiration and information when you needed it and correction when you thought you didn’t.

“How badly?” Edward had a chilling thought.

“He had a psychotic break and found what he thought was the road to his god, but we didn’t know that he was not alone. He saw your exile of him as a betrayal of a kind and in one sense he was right. He was still mad and still untrustworthy, but we put him out of harms way we thought.”

“And then he taught his son? The Samuel that took everything from me? It was a petty act of vengeance?’ Dr Edward Thompson, time traveller and meddler extraordinaire.

“We lost track of him, we were perfecting the process, refining science with versions of you that were coming in clean, minds open and ready to work on the problem when presented with the truth.