Jane Zombie Chronicles (Book 6): Running Rampant

  Running Rampant

  Jane Zombie Chronicles

  Book 6

  Gayle Katz

  In Your Face Publishers

  Blue Bell, PA

  Copyright © 2019 Gayle Katz

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission from the author. For permissions contact:

  gayle@gaylekatz.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead, or undead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit the author’s website at GayleKatz.com

  Table of Contents

  ________________________________________

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

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  Chapter 1

  ________________________________________

  “Make them stop!” I shout.

  “I’ve got this, Brie,” Professor Carter says. “No need to swarm her with your zombies. Take them away.”

  His hand is cold to the touch. Afraid he’s going to hurt me like he did before, I quickly change my mind and pull my hand away, breaking our connection. Turning around to get a better sense of my surroundings, I see a large horde of snarling zombies in close proximity. As I take in the scene, it feels so surreal and unbelievable. For a time, life slows down to a crawl, not unlike those slo-mo scenes from action movies on the big screen.

  With zombies in the room, I can’t take my eyes off of them. You never know when they’re going to attack so it’s best to never let your guard down. They are relentless. They never stop unless you’re dead or one of them.

  Here’s what I know: while their bodies decay, their sense of smell somehow becomes stronger, more powerful. And they can seek out live human flesh wherever it may be hiding. They’re known for it. If they’re hungry, watch out. But they’re also compelled to bite to spread their infectious plague. This isn’t zombie lore anymore. This is real life I’m talking about. These are zombie facts. Hard facts I know are true from personal experience.

  That begs the question: so, how are these zombies frozen in place, like grotesque lifelike statues? Mind blown, I’ve never seen zombies in limbo like they are right now. However, these zombies, while as putrid as any others I’ve seen, with gray skin peeling away in chunks from their faces, sunken eyes staring forward blankly, and crusty old blood splatter wounds, probably from other humans they’ve attacked in the past, seem docile right now, even harmless. Just in case my eyes are deceiving me, I will not let myself fall prey to that illusion. They’re still dangerous and deadly creatures.

  These zombies are a strange bunch, though. Not unlike the family dog, they are animals. In this case, waiting for their master to give them the go ahead to devour the tasty treats dangling in front of them. Stopped in their tracks for the moment, seemingly under a spell, they’re not a threat.

  I can’t help but stare at them as they barely move around in what seems like an invisible cage. How is that even possible? But while their movements seem restricted to a certain area, their rotten odors still travel the distance, enter my nostrils, and cause me to gag.

  Even worse than their stench is their incessant shrieking, which also doesn’t stop as their bodies do. Their high-pitched squeals prompt me to hunch over and cover my ears.

  “Brie!” he shouts.

  At the same time, my attention turns to my once dead professor. Perplexed and looking back and forth at all of these people surrounding me, my brain barely has time to process all of this craziness. Benjamin Carter, my dead professor who’s now alive? Two somewhat similar-looking Bries standing side by side? A horde of zombies not advancing on live prey? Nothing makes sense. “Uhhhh. Which one of them are you talking to? There seems to be two of them now,” I say, pointing in their direction. “And h-how-” No one hears me.

  “But…” one of the Bries says in protest, responding to Ben.

  “I’m telling you to call them off, all right? Get them out of here. Everything is in hand. She’s not going anywhere.”

  The Brie with two arms looks over at the Brie with one arm, who gives a nod. She raises her one arm high in the air to rally her human paramilitary troops. “Round ‘em up. Back in their cages,” she yells. Brie grabs a riot shield to help fight the zombies, push them back, and secure them as quickly as possible in their designated area. These zombie-fighting guys and gals aren’t taking any chances. They’re covered in thick, black body armor, dressed in riot gear complete with helmets and face guards, at least that’s what it looks like to me.

  In the process of pushing them back so the zombie contingent can’t advance or hurt anyone, one rogue zombie breaks from the pack and rushes one of the military-esque ruffians standing alone. Blindsided, the officer loses his balance when the zombie head-butts him hard in the stomach.

  Out of instinct and in the moment, I take a step forward to help, but a hand on my shoulder holds me back. “What are you doing?" I ask. "We have to help him."

  “Be patient. They can handle it. That’s what they’re trained to do,” Professor Carter says.

  As we watch the scene unfold, despite the body armor protection, the zombie successfully knocks him over, and jumps on top of him. Revealing sharp, rotting teeth, the zombie tries to bite through the armor, ripping out part of its jaw in the process. The officer then shoves his assault rifle into the zombie’s mouth lengthwise to push it off of him, knocking the zombie’s remaining teeth out at the same time. Once back on his feet, the soldier tries to guide the zombie back to the rest of the swarm, but it doesn’t seem to be working. The wiring in this zombie must be different than the rest. That’s when he points his weapon at the zombie’s head and fires. Bang! I jump at the sound of the gunshot and see the resulting splatter of brains in a beautiful, haphazard pattern dirtying the floor.

  Watching as their small militia continues to clear the corridor, another zombie breaks from the others and starts to frantically run straight toward us. At the same time, the Professor takes his hand off of my shoulder and I see him look in the direction of the second zombie. Somehow it stops, turns around, and heads back to the group. What’s happening? When did the Professor acquire this talent?

  Despite being under the Professor’s mind control powers, or whatever you want to call them, they still exhibit strong zombie traits. I quickly cover my ears again when I hear those zombie retching and screeching sounds get louder. If I never hear zombies making their horrible noises again, that’s perfectly fine with me. And, if I’m being honest, their gangly movements, their ear-piercing scre
eches, and their putrid odors are burned into my brain. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get them out of there.

  Smoothing back my hair and trying my best to compose myself, I look back at the Professor. I feared him before when I was a student at Scarlet Peak University. Those same feelings flood my system again. Chills rush up my spine as I stare at him, taking in his stature. He’s the reason all of this is happening. He’s the reason why zombies are threatening humanity. It would make sense that he’s probably also the reason I’m in this mess. I want to know how he’s alive and standing in front of me, but my voice fails me when I try to confront him. “H-H-“

  “I can imagine seeing me here might come as a shock,” he says as he takes a step toward me. “If it makes you feel any better, it was a shock to me when I opened my eyes and saw myself, too.”

  I step back, not sure what’s happening, how I should act, or what I should do. “S-Stay away from me!”

  “And I know I must trigger a lot of strong feelings about the past. How can I not? I haven’t forgotten what happened either.” He pauses, presumably to give me the opportunity to speak, but I don’t know what to say, so he continues talking. “If I’m right and you’re overwhelmed by everything that’s happening here and coming to the surface right about now, I invite you to ask your questions and voice your concerns. Nothing is off limits. Nothing. And I give you my word, I’m not going to harm you.”

  “Your word? That’s grand. Your word means nothing to me.”

  “I understand why you feel that way, and I’m sorry about that. However, I’m not here to do bad things to you or anyone else for that matter.”

  “Are you sure? Isn’t that your thing? Doing bad things? You’ve already done so much to screw up my life and everyone else’s. Why stop now?”

  “I know this is going to be difficult, but I’m going to talk and I need you to listen carefully. If I was on a mission of destruction and I meant to hurt you, you’d be gone by now. You have no backup, no help, no nothing. Those zombies could have torn you to shreds. The force we assembled could have shot you dead. That hasn’t happened. Clearly, that’s not why I’m here.”

  “OK, then, can you tell me why you’re really here?”

  “That’s a long story, but I’d be happy to share it with you,” he says, reaching out to take my hand.

  I back up again so he can’t touch me.

  “And I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”

  “That’s gonna take some time. I still don’t believe you. And there are other ways to hurt me besides shooting me or letting zombies eat me alive.”

  He sighs. “Fair enough. I remember how I treated you before. That makes it easy for me to understand why you’re reacting to me in this way and, for that, I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? Is that all you can say?”

  “What else can I possibly do or say? I know what I… er… Professor Carter did to you, and I’m not sure there are any words that can make up for his… my actions.”

  I stare at him, perplexed. He’s right. There is nothing he can say. There’s nothing he can do. He also doesn’t seem solid on who he is, referring to himself with both first person and third person pronouns. “You’re right about that.” It pains me to admit he’s right about anything.

  “At least we can agree on one thing. That’s progress.”

  His levity allows me to relax enough to formulate a question. “Professor, what did you do to those zombies back there? How did you control them?”

  “First, why don’t you start calling me Ben. I’m not your professor anymore. Hell, I’m not anyone’s professor anymore. And to answer your question about the zombies, in a way, yes. I have a connection with them. In some cases, I’m able to talk and communicate with them. Other times, all I can do is make mental suggestions or command them. It depends on the zombie, and how much their brain function has decayed. Sometimes, I’m powerless and can’t do anything, but normally that only happens when the zombie is simply a shell and there’s nothing left inside.”

  “And this connection, this power you have, it doesn’t work on humans, does it?”

  “Hmmm. I don’t think so. I’ve actually never tried or given it any thought.”

  “So… H-How? How are you even here? Where did you come from? How are you alive? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s quite a story,” he says, walking around in a circle in front of me.

  “I bet it is. You do know you’re supposed to be dead, right? Jack shot you in the head. I saw him do it. I saw him with my own two eyes.” I thought bringing up the past would make him angry, but he remained calm and collected.

  “Sometimes, I can’t believe it myself. Come. Walk with me, OK? I’ll explain what I know and answer your questions to the best of my ability.”

  “No way. Answer them now.”

  “Like I said before, I have absolutely no interest in hurting you. If anything, I’d like to try and make up for some of the bad things I did before, if that’s even possible. I want to tell you the whole truth and, in order to do that, I need to show you something.”

  “Show me what?”

  “Consider it a visual aid. I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, so it’ll help what I’m about to tell you make more sense.”

  More than a little apprehensive about the situation unfolding around me, but definitely curious about his explanation, I follow him as he walks down the hallway. With each step, I look around, waiting for zombies to attack or some other torture to befall me. Three quarters of the way down the corridor, I see him turn and enter a room. Keeping a watchful eye on my surroundings, especially behind me, I see the Brie with two arms tagging along, walking a few steps behind me, while the one-armed Brie is nowhere to be found. I can only assume she has her hand full following her men and battling the zombie subjects into submission. One Brie was odd enough. Now two Bries completely creep me out.

  Chapter 2

  ________________________________________

  As I continue to trail behind the Professor, uncertain of what’s to come, I walk through the same archway into a low lit office. Ben walks up to the front of the desk placed on the far end of the room. He leans his long torso over as if he’s picking something up, and turns around to face me. He looks down at the canister in his hands and then offers it to me. I stare at him.

  “Here. Take it,” he says, outstretching his arms toward me. “Go ahead.”

  “No,” I reply with my arms still at my sides. “What is it? Just tell me, all right?”

  “Take it and you’ll see. It won’t hurt you.”

  I walk forward a few steps, extend my arms cautiously, and take the object from his hands, careful not to touch him. Glancing at it, I rotate the canister around in my hands, looking for anything to help me identify it. It looks like any other run-of-the-mill metal cylinder. I continue to turn it when I spot unique markings. My eyes widen.

  “I-Is this?”

  “Yes? Go on.”

  “This is the Scrycor logo,” I point to the familiar logo on the canister. “This can’t be… is this the same canister I stole back from those men for Lance?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “He told me there were zombie remains in there.”

  “There were. He was telling the truth.”

  Suddenly, I put two and two together and it hits me. “Wait. You came from this?” I ask, holding the canister up in front of me. “From the zombie biomatter inside? That was you? You’re what Lance made me steal?” I could almost kick myself for doing any of Lance’s bidding.

  “Yes. Of course. Where do you think he came from?” Brie says, walking up beside the Professor and snaking her arm through his.

  “That’s not helping,” he says. Throwing her a frustrated look and trying to ignore her snarky comment, he turns his attention back to me.

  “Uhhh. So, are you a clone of Professor Carter?” I ask to confirm my suspicions.

  “Yes,” he replies. “A clone.”

  “But
I don’t understand. Professor Carter was turning into a zombie. Any remaining organic matter would have been contaminated by the zombie virus, right? So, how exactly are you… uhhh… normal?”

  “That’s a good question, but first why don’t we start from the beginning so everything is out in the open, shall we? No secrets. Does that sound good to you?”

  Still amazed by the Professor standing and talking to me, I nod in agreement. Is this real? Am I dreaming? If it’s the latter, it’s the most vivid hallucination I’ve ever had.

  “Listen. From what I’ve been told, you and everyone else were in the process of evacuating the school before the military bombed the campus. They were trying to stop the outbreak before it spread further off campus.

  “During that time, the military collected my notes as well as my cellular residue, and anything else they thought might help them figure out what happened. From there the story gets a little hazy, but here’s what I’ve pieced together from what people have told me: someone in the military sold my remains on the black market, probably to make some fast cash. And that’s when Lance got his hands on them. Unfortunately, trust is not a quality that’s in abundance when you’re a criminal or dealing with them, so, from what I gather, some guy on his team double-crossed him and stole it.”

  “And that’s when you came into the picture,” Brie continues.

  “So you’re standing here, alive, because of me?” I ask.

  “Yes. And for that, I thank you,” he says, unhooking himself from Brie and walking toward me. Instinct kicking in, I take a step back. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not sure how many more times I need to say it.” He gets closer and takes my clammy, shaking hand in his, expressing what looks like his appreciation. It’s funny. The last time I looked into the Professor’s eyes all those years ago, they were crazy, deranged even, but now as I look into them, they seem tired, weary, maybe even sincere? No. No. No. What am I thinking? I can’t fall for his act. He’s still a monster.