Clickers vs Zombies (32 page)

“And who was president?”

“Some black guy with a funny name. Sounded like ‘Yo Momma’ or something.”

“Maybe whatever name it was you picked up in a book,” Al suggested. “And your subconscious stored it the way it does everything else.”

“Yeah, I know that’s how dreams work. It just seemed…so damn vivid!”

Something about what Stuart related wouldn’t leave Al’s mind. “You said in your dream that the wild people were being controlled or possessed by something. Do you still feel the zombies are being controlled by something?”

“Absolutely. I know they are.”

“Are they being controlled by the same thing in your dream?”

“No. The thing from my dream was completely different. Don’t ask me how I know, it’s just a feeling I have.”

“But it’s interesting that you would have a dream that would strangely parallel your current situation,” Al continued. He was thinking out loud now, trying to fit pieces together. “Let me ask you something. You said you had déjà vu prior to falling asleep and having this dream, right?”

“That’s correct?”

“Did that dream
strengthen
the feeling of déjà vu?”

“It did.”

Al thought about this. His educational background told him that Stuart was merely experiencing stress as a result of the traumatic situation he’d been thrust in. However, due to Al’s own personal studies of physics, especially string theory, what caught his interest was Stuart’s description of the zombies being controlled by some unknown force. Stuart’s deja-vu feeling and his dreams described a similar force, and a very similar situation: stuck on the top floor of his apartment building, watching civilization crumble around him as people either turned into wild primitives or zombies (
and let’s not forget being eaten by scorpion-lobster-crab hybrid creatures that poured in from the river, most likely swimming up river from the Atlantic
, Al thought). “What was the force called?” Al asked. “In your dream?”

“The demon controlling the wild people?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. I just had this image that it was a thing from another world. Kind of like a demon, but not really.”

“With horns and wings, the whole nine yards?”

“Kinda.”

“What about the force controlling the zombies? Do you have any kind of sense of a name for it?”

“No, I don’t. It was like the thing from the dream, but different. There are a lot them.”

“A lot of them?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean, a lot of them?”

“There’s a bunch. Maybe twelve, thirteen of them. I get the sense they all come from the same place, that they have weird names. Leviathan, for example.”

“The deity from the Bible?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. And Ob? Does Ob mean anything to you?”

“No, it doesn’t.” Al didn’t know what an Ob was.

“Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just that’s the word that keeps coming to my head when I get the sense these things are controlled by some great force.”

“But you know this force, whatever it is, it’s different from the force controlling the wild people in your dream?”

“Yes, it’s very different. I think it’s more dangerous. Obviously it’s more dangerous because this shit is really happening. This isn’t a dream.”

“This feeling of deja vu…was yesterday the first time it came to you?”

For a moment, Stuart didn’t answer. Al had the sense he was thinking carefully about his answer. A moment later, the confirmation to his suspicions was answered. “No,” Stuart said, his voice low. “I can’t describe it but…I had a similar dream a few times over the past few years. Last night it was simply more vivid. It was like the dreams before were just little bits and pieces of the greater whole and then last night it opened a floodgate.”

Al nodded. “Of course.”

“Have you had dreams like that?” Stuart asked.

“No, I haven’t.”

“I don’t think anybody else has, either. You’re the first person I’ve mentioned them to. I hinted at them a few times, but everybody I talk to didn’t know what I was talking about, so I would change the subject.”

Al quickly changed gears. “How many other people are you in contact with?”

“About two dozen.” Stuart’s tone of voice changed, became all business again. “I’ve got call letters and frequencies. Got something to write with?”

“Yep.” Al pulled a pad of paper and pen over and got ready to write. And as Stuart began reciting names, call signs, and frequencies, Al jotted them down and tried to make some kind of sense out of what he’d just heard. He was disturbed by the idea that the zombies were being controlled by some kind of outside entity. Or perhaps even multiple entities. If this being or beings could take possession of all living things, it could probably possess one of the Clickers. That would be very bad. He shook his head. For all he knew, maybe they already had possessed the Clickers.

“Let me ask you something else, Stuart,” Al asked when he was finished jotting down the names and call signs. “Have you been in touch with any government official or even a staff member? Or any kind of scientist?”

“No, I haven’t. I wish I was.”

“Okay.” Another idea came to him. “Do you have internet connectivity?”

“Internet? I don’t know, I haven’t even tried getting on. CNN and Fox was down last time I tried to access the internet.”

“Try again.” Despite the chaos and destruction that was happening, if major LAN lines were still running and power was still being supplied to Internet Service Providers, the internet might still be up, at least partially.

“It’s not,” Stuart reported, a moment later. “I get a network error.”

“Try rebooting your router.”

Stuart tried, and a few minutes later the results were the same. “Okay, it was worth a try. But I’d like you to try something else for me, Stuart.”

“Sure, what’s that?”

“Get back on the horn and connect with some of these other folks you’re in contact with. See if any of them have any internet connection.”

“Why do you want to connect with the internet so bad?”

Al couldn’t explain it, but he couldn’t contain his enthusiasm, either. He grinned. “I’ve got an idea. An idea involving string theory and alternate realities—other versions of our Earth. Maybe we—”

At that moment, the house shook. The light swung back and forth overhead, and the glasses and plates rattled in the kitchen. Al glanced at Janice. She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. Gripping the arms of her chair tightly.

“You still there?” Stuart asked.

“Yes,” Al said. “We’re having an earthquake. Just wait for a moment and it should—”

CLICK-CLICK…CLICK-CLICK…CLICK-CLICK…

“Oh no…”

“I know that sound,” Stuart shouted. There was a sudden electronic squeal of feedback. “You gotta hide!”

Al leapt from his chair and grabbed his wife’s hand. Around them, the shaking grew more intense, and the sounds got louder, drowning out what Stuart was saying.

“The basement,” he yelled, pulling Janice with him. “We’ve got to—”

The windows in the living room shattered, and the sounds of the Clickers grew deafening. Their briny stench seemed to fill the house. He heard wood splintering. Then the windows at the rear of the house broke.

“What do we do?” Janice’s fingernails dug into his hand. “What do we do?”

“Your idea,” Stuart shouted. “Tell me your idea!”

A horde of dead Clickers charged into the house. He heard them smashing furniture and slashing at the walls. More barged into the rear of the house, cutting them off from the stairs. One of the hybrids tried to squeeze through the door into the room, but got stuck in the frame. It squealed with frustration, thrashing about. Its shell scraped against the doorframe. The wood splintered. Behind it, other Clickers began tearing away chunks of wood and drywall. Apparently unsatisfied with their progress, they then ripped the stuck Clicker to shreds, slicing through it with their claws. With a final push, they shoved through the wall just as the hybrids at the front of the house gained access to the room. One of them swiped at the radio equipment, smashing it to the floor and silencing Stuart’s voice forever.

“Janice?”

Her only response was a frightened sob.

“Janice,” he repeated, squeezing her hand. “We’ll be together in another world.”

Al was still squeezing his wife’s hand when a massive stinger punched through his chest. His blood sprayed like a geyser, arcing over the creature’s shell and his wife’s horrified face. He felt the venom surge through his veins. Al opened his mouth to tell Janice that he loved her, but vomited blood and his own rapidly liquefying insides instead. The last thing he saw before his eyes bubbled from their sockets was his wife screaming as the same thing happened to her.

San Pedro, California

It took Rick another two hours to reach Sunken City.

By the time he reached the San Pedro city limits, the SUV was covered with decaying flesh and blood, and there were spider web cracks in the front windshield. Rick had to fight to keep the vehicle on a straight course. At some point during his mad race through Harbor City, he’d come across a horde of zombies who had given chase through the streets. Rick had damaged the rear axle of the SUV while driving over something. Weren’t SUVs supposed to be able to be driven over rough terrain? Maybe in rural areas, but not in the middle of the city in the aftermath of a post-apocalyptic showdown between zombies and Clickers.

A showdown was the only thing Rick could call it. While he saw the creatures roaming around the streets on his journey, they were mostly sitting around eating dead things. And why not? It was a smorgasbord out here. Likewise, when he came across the zombies they were usually in groups. Most times he came across them they were a safe distance away and he always drove away from them. Only occasionally would they give chase, usually by foot. These zombies weren’t like the ones in the Romero films. Rather, these zombies were like the ones in the film
28 Days Later
, only smarter. They could drive cars, too, as evidenced by that zombie kid he saw in Compton trying to drive a Lincoln. So far, the ones he’d come across piloting vehicles were in cars that were pretty beat up, and he’d been pretty lucky and able to speed away from them because of it.

Princess had remained in the front passenger seat throughout the trip, ready and alert for anything. She’d sat up, ready and at attention like a canine soldier. The few times Rick was driving through unknown territory, Princess seemed to sense something up ahead and would bark in such a way that Rick came to instinctually trust. Depending on the tone of the bark, he would either stop the vehicle and head down another street or, if she were looking in a particular direction while she was barking, Rick knew not to venture down that avenue. The few times he passed such streets, Rick had chanced a glance and had seen zombies milling around.

At one point he’d passed an intersection and glanced to his left to see a full-on war. He didn’t stop to watch it. The brief glimpse he got as he zoomed past was enough to burn in his memory. It also brought a sense of realization to him.
No wonder I’ve made it this far
, he thought.

That brief glimpse he’d caught was this:

A large mass of zombies were gathered in a park and they were facing off an opposing mass of Clickers. The moment he breasted the intersection and glanced toward them they ran toward each other like Norsemen and Saxons coming together on an ancient battlefield. Claws clicked, snapping zombies in half. Zombies ducked, flipped some of the Clickers over and then attacked their soft undersides; stingered tails jabbed into zombie-flesh and that was the extent of what Rick saw. As he drove away, putting the battle at a comfortable distance behind him, he could hear the squeals of the Clickers and the mad clicking of their claws grow faint in his ears. And with it came the realization for why he wasn’t experiencing much in the way of attacks from both Clickers and zombies.

They’re fighting each other
, he thought, his heart pounding.
That’s what those sounds I’ve been hearing are. The Clickers and zombies are fighting each other all over. If we’d only had an invasion of one of them, things would be much worse. But they arrived at the same time and now they’re battling for supremacy
.

Rick didn’t know why this battle was being raged, but it didn’t matter. It was providing him with the perfect diversion to get to Sunken City and save his kids.

As he reached Cameo del Mar Street he thought briefly of Jeanette. He’d tucked her away in the back of his mind this morning, offering a silent prayer that she was still alive. Then he’d gone back to the task at hand. Save the kids first. Then, if possible, try to reconnect with Jeanette somehow. See if she was alive. Most likely, she wasn’t. Rick knew this was the most likely scenario, and while emotionally he wasn’t prepared to face this yet, he had considered the very real possibility that she was dead and he was never going to see her again. He only hoped the kids would be prepared to deal with this loss as well.