Dead Hunt (12 page)

“What does that have to do with scaring the
hell out of us?” Lauren asked.

“Mikey said all we have to go on is what we
know, right?” Paul explained.

“And…?” Michael asked.

“And, what do we know about zombies?”

“What?” Lauren asked.

“In the movies the only thing that kills them
is a blow to the head. So I shot one of them fuckers right between
the eyeballs.”

“You shot him? Are you insane?” Lucy said
disgustedly.

Paul ignored her. “It dropped him like a sack
of shit.”

“Can you please refrain from your colorful
and juvenile descriptions and get to the point,” Lauren
ordered.

“Second shot was a chest shot. The impact
dropped him, but he got back up. The headshot guy didn’t get up,”
Paul explained.

“Interesting,” Michael thought out loud.

“Interesting?” Lucy said in disbelief. “He’s
shooting people and all you can say is ‘interesting’?”

Another shot startled Lucy, and she spun to
watch Paul reload.

“Stop it!” she yelled. “They are still
people!”

“Those zombie mutha-fuckers are not people.
They are the reason Wade is dead!” he yelled back at her. “They
ain’t human.”

“Neither are you,” Lucy scolded and ran
downstairs.

The other girls quickly followed. Michael
stayed behind.

“Where’d you get the gun?” he asked.

“I saw this old 4-10 shotgun hanging above
the door in the kitchen. It looked like it was in good shape, and
there were some shells in the drawer, so I thought I’d test it
out.”

“On zombies?” Michael asked.

“Didn’t see any rabbits running around. Did
you?”

“Point taken,” Michael said as he looked out
the window.

He scanned the area until he found the zombie
lying on the ground with most of its head missing.

“Powerful rifle,” Michael thought out
loud.

“What? This? Not really,” Paul informed him.
“Good for rabbits or pheasants, but not much else.”

“Sure made short work of him,” Michael nodded
towards the downed corpse.

“Yeah, I guess they can move around, but the
body is still decaying.”

“Interesting,” Michael said more to himself
than to Paul as the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the
start of another day.

“What’s the range on that?” Michael asked,
nodding towards the gun.

“Not sure. The pellets will travel kinda far
I think, but accuracy ain’t worth a shit,” Paul informed him. “They
spread out the further they go.”

“I see,” Michael said as he looked out the
window. “So, where’s the other one you shot?”

“Oh, he’s around somewhere. Hard to tell
because they’re all covered in blood.”

“See that group over there?” Michael asked,
pointing towards a group of a half dozen zombies staggering around
the outskirts of the property.

“Yeah.”

“Try for a headshot,” Michael suggested.

“Which one?” Paul asked.

“One of the ones in the middle.”

Paul aimed the rifle and squeezed the
trigger. Michael was expecting the shot, but it still made him
flinch. Three of the zombies went down, while two of them barely
flinched from the impact of the pellets. One of the downed ones
stood back up.

“Two for one! Not bad,” Michael said..

“So, what’s that prove?” Paul asked, not sure
where Michael was going with this little experiment.

“The pellets spread far enough that it hit
five of them. Nice shooting by the way.”

“Good shooting,” Paul corrected him.

“Huh?”

“Good shooting. There’s no such thing as nice
shooting.”

“That’s kinda profound for you. No offense,”
Michael said with a smile.

“Heard it in a movie.”

“Really? Which one?” Michael asked.

Paul looked at Michael and grinned, “Land of
the Dead.”

Michael blinked.

“Land of the Dead? Are you kidding me? You’re
quoting lines from a zombie movie?”

“What can I say? I’m a huge Romero fan. Would
you prefer I quote Shakespeare?”

Michael laughed as Paul leaned out the window
and yelled, “Oh, Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?”

“I see your point,” Michael laughed. “You’re
a disturbed individual with a morbid sense of humor. You know that,
right?”

“Yeah.”

They both laughed.

“So,” Paul reminded him. “The shots?”

“Oh, yeah. That was a good distance away and
five of them got hit. You said earlier that the impact knocked one
down but he got back up. I’m guessing he was fairly close.”

Paul nodded and Michael continued, “At the
longer distance, the impact was minimal, but the head shot still
dropped them. Therefore, it doesn’t have to be a massive blow to
the head. So maybe a baseball bat will be just as effective as a
gun.”

“Just like in the movies,” Paul smiled.

“Just like in the movies,” Michael agreed,
“So, if you were in a George Romero movie and you were stuck in a
secret laboratory surrounded by zombies, what would you do?”

Paul thought for a moment and smiled. “Well,
first I’d fuck all the girls, then I’d throw the nerdy science geek
to the zombies to distract them while I made a run for it.”

Paul laughed, but Michael did not.

“It was a joke,” Paul explained.

“What? Oh, yeah I know.”

“Oh, damn! There he goes again.” Paul leaned
the gun by the windowsill, “I’m heading downstairs to get a drink.
Try not to shoot yourself.”

Michael nodded.

“And watch out for those little, green men
with purple afros,” Paul added.

Michael nodded again.

“Yep, Mr. Cloak and Dagger is off to
never-never land again,” Paul said as he headed downstairs.

“Where’s Michael?” Lauren asked as Paul
entered the lab.

“Upstairs, having wet dreams about George
Romero.”

“What?” Lucy asked.

“Nothing. He’s working shit out. You know
Mikey, once he goes deep in thought, you girls could walk by him
naked and he wouldn’t even notice.”

“Wanna try?” Lauren laughed.

“If you do, I’m going with you,” Paul laughed
until Lucy punched him in the arm.

“I can’t believe you guys would joke at a
time like this.”

“Lucy, relax,” Paul suggested, “now is the
best time to let off a little steam or else we’ll all go insane not
knowing what’s going to happen next.”

“What is going to happen next?’ Emma asked in
a frail voice.

Paul looked at her. She didn’t look as bad as
earlier, but she still looked like she would jump out of her skin
at any moment.

“I don’t know,” Paul said. “But Mikey is
working on something. If there’s a way out of this mess, he’ll
figure it out.”

“Be careful,” Lucy said with a smile. “You
almost sound like you’re looking up to him.”

“Now who’s cracking jokes?” Paul laughed.

“I’m just gonna have to plaster it all over
Facebook and Twitter that big bad Paul has grown fond of our little
Mikey.”

“Now, that’s fucking funny,” Paul laughed
before Emma spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Umm, guys,” she said sheepishly. “Speaking
of Facebook and Twitter, has anyone checked to see if any of those
computers have internet access?”

They stared at her, speechless.

“I mean, this whole lab is, like, run by
computers, and we know there’s no phone, so how did that doctor guy
talk to people? There must be someone he needed to stay in contact
with.”

“Who needed to stay in contact?” Michael
asked as he came around the corner.

The teens jumped to their feet and ran to the
keyboard. Michael followed. None of them touched the keyboard.

“Robin, are you there?” Lucy asked.

“Yes, Lucy, I am here,” Robin replied.

“Do you have internet access?”

“Yes.”

“Great!” Lucy said excitedly. “We can log
online and get help!”

“I’m afraid that is not possible,” Robin
informed her.

“Not possible?” Lucy asked. “Why not?”

“The internet signal we receive from the
satellite is currently unavailable.”

“Unavailable?” Paul said. “How the hell can a
satellite be unavailable?”

“There is a problem with the satellite
receiver,” Robin explained.

“Receiver? You mean the dish?” Michael
asked.

“That is correct.”

“What’s the problem?” Michael asked.

“I will show you,” Robin announced as her
face on the computer screen switched to the view of a large
satellite dish in the middle of a grassy clearing. The dish lay on
its side, a broken wire swayed lifelessly above it.

“What the hell happened to that?” Paul
asked.

“There was a storm,” Robin informed them.
“The receiver was damaged.”

“Well, why didn’t you fix it?” he
demanded.

“I will walk outside and get right on that
for you,” Robin replied.

The teens said nothing. Then Paul spoke up,
“Did that fucking computer bitch just crack a joke?”

A smile appeared on their faces; it
disappeared equally as fast.

“Can you fix it, Mikey?” Paul asked.

“You mean go out there? With those
things?”

“You’re right, Mikey,” Paul agreed
disheartened. “It’s not like we are tricking a dumb ass bear this
time.”

“But maybe we can trick them with smell,”
Michael said as he explained his idea. Hours passed as Michael and
Paul discussed every possible way of reconnecting that wire. None
of their plans even hinted at working.

If they were able to distract those things
long enough for Michael to try and fix the broken wire the dish
still had to be realigned, which would take brute strength, and
Paul couldn’t help him with that and watch Michael’s back. The next
problem was even worse: they didn’t know how long those things
would be distracted or if they even could be. In the end, it was
obvious that they couldn’t fix the dish.

The sleep-deprived girls had already slumped
on the floor in the lab, though none of them actually slept. The
only thing worse than the nightmares they saw when they closed
their eyes were the nightmares they saw when they kept them open.
Knowing those nightmares walked around outside meant no one was
going to be able to get any sleep.

CHAPTER 11 – Father

“Good evening, this is Clay Buffer with the
Atlantic Television Networks 6 o’clock evening news. It is with a
saddened heart that I report that our very own Jess Jessup has been
struck down by what officials are now calling the Margaree Virus,
or simply, the M Virus. The death of Jess Jessup has made it
painfully clear that the M Virus has indeed left the Margaree area
and is spreading. Reports of virus-like activity are coming in from
Glace Bay, Christmas Island, Whycocomaugh, Bell Cote, Neil’s Harbor
and Meat Cove. Joining us in the studio today is world-renowned
biochemist, Doctor Bajeet Chopra. Doctor Chopra, could you explain
to our viewers exactly what the M Virus is?”

“Of course, Mr. Buffer, and I thank you for
having me. Upon examination of the viral fluid collected from the
hosts and victims, it is apparent that a viral strain was
introduced into the hosts’ system, modifying the hosts’ DNA into a
brand new strand. There is no known organism that can biologically
manufacture the DNA found in said viral fluid, so therefore it
stands to reason that this new strand of virus DNA, although
chemically complex, was manufactured.”

“Excuse me, Dr. Chopra, manufactured? Are you
telling us that someone purposely made the M Virus?”

“Yes, and no. The most important detail we
are missing is the chemical structure of the original virus strand.
We can only test the fluid from an infected host, or its victim,
and not the original virus strand that created them. So although it
is true that somebody has indeed created the M Virus, I strongly
believe the M Virus has mutated from its original purpose.”

“And what was the original purpose?”

“We do not have enough data to determine what
the original purpose of this rogue virus strand could have been. We
do know that it is not airborne as the CDC originally reported, and
we recently discovered that the M Virus is in fact waterborne. It
is the most peculiar thing, instead of diluting in water, this
particular strand of virus grows stronger. So, the longer it is in
the water, the more it mutates. Once the host drinks the water, he
immediately starts to undergo metabolic changes as the virus
modifies the host’s DNA, which, unfortunately, kills the host in a
few hours. As I mentioned, I do not believe this particular virus
was designed to kill. If it was, then whoever created it is taking
the long way around.”

“The long way around?”

“The M virus does kill the host, but
strangely enough, the virus then revives the host’s most basic
bodily functions. It is only after this ‘resurrection,’ so to
speak, and I use that term very lightly, but it is after the host
comes back to life that he or she shows signs of extreme violence
and cannibalistic behavior.”

“What you are describing, Doctor Chopra,
sounds like. . . well, a zombie?”

“Not in the true Hollywood sense of the word,
but, yes, the host is more or less a zombie.”

“How is that even possible?”

“If we speculate, we could assume that any
virus capable of reanimating the dead will most likely have
characteristics similar to the Ebola Zaire Virus. That particular
strand effectively turns the human host into a mush of viral
proteins that, in turn, feed upon healthy proteins. That virus does
not affect the skeletal muscle or bones and is one of few viruses
known to man that are borderline parasitic. The DNA mutation of the
M Virus allows for Adenosine Triphosphate, or ATP.”

“You’ve lost me, doc”

“It is basic biology, really. The oxygen in
our cells has a negative charge. Electrons want to be with protons,
so the negative charges repel each other. Because the negatively
charged cells are always trying to get away from each other, there
is a lot of potential energy there. The ATP process can power
needed reactions by losing one of its phosphorous groups to form
ADP. Food energy, in this case the oxidation of glucose, converts
it back so that the energy is made available again. In other words,
you use the energy from this process to do what you need to do to
keep alive. It then recharges through the oxidation of glucose in a
cycle called the TCA, or Krebs cycle, to provide energy for the
conversion of ADP back to ATP. What all this basically means is
that the M Virus uses the sugar in the host’s blood and combines it
with negatively charged oxygen cells, which creates life.”