The Village of Dead Souls: A Zombie Novel (4 page)

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Authors: Michael Wallace

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BOOK: The Village of Dead Souls: A Zombie Novel
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Standing in the center of the crowd, the Viking said to the Roman, "With the fear
the
living have in us, it is more important to organize battle groups for our own protection. It will not take long for them to rally and eliminate what they consider
a
threat to their way of
life
and their spirit itself. We are their perceived threat. I would think of all the people here, a Roman would understand the need for a legion."

Titus, with a wide red bandana wrapped around his head like a headband, long loose shirt, baggy jeans and a small
teardrop
tattooed underneath his right
eye,
spoke in a calm well
-
educated voice. "Speak not as to Roman aggression upon the people. I recall an attack by the
Visigoth
on a small
and
unprotected port city. As we have memories of similar events, my good friend, you may have been one of the barbarians who excelled in the art of pillaging. But, we are not to renew
battles,
which this day and time have long forgotten. We have a mission to save our
de
s
cend
a
nts,
which is why I propose we gain organization within our structure of gifts. Layered government, so to speak, will be most vital for us to accomplish this daunting task. The formation of a legion
might
only
be beneficial
for
certain
needs.
It
will only distract us from the purpose of why we have been placed here."

"It is just like a Roman to ignore the threat at the door only to rebuild his grand empire." Benwa turned to those closest to him. "
I
f we are dead but continue to live
,
i
t is this thread of life still
beating
in these foreign bodies
that
I am to protect."

Prometheus said to Vic, "Finally, a discussion more comfortable to my ears and to my knowledge." He spoke up directly to Benwa and Titus. "I fear the tension you have for each other
might
be blinding you to the obvious
alliance
you already possess."

Both the Viking and Roman turned to the new voice. Benwa said, "I see we have a
fresh
member to our merry band. What name do we call you and from what land and time do you hail?"

"My name is Prometheus." He took a few steps from Vic and moved closer to the crowd. "I hail from the land I knew as
Athens
. I can only describe my origin time as the onset of the war against the Peloponnesian League led by
Sparta
."

Titus moved away from the crates and into a spot of sunlight cast down from a hole in an upper level window. "Ah, a Greek man from time of the great thinkers. Tell us good Prometheus, what kind of fortune is blinded from our vision?"

"You are both correct. Any large group of citizens would need a structure of organization. If such a society were to be threatened by opposing force, the need of such military would also be advantageous. Without the
knowledge,
many of you hold as to why we are here, I see no problem with both a military and governmental structure. Dear and good Benwa, you seem to be from a city similar to
Sparta
,
where soldiers dominate the population.
Perhaps,
you could organize those willing to take arms. And good
sir,
Titus, you appear to understand the structure of a Senate. You may well be a good choice to orchestrate such a governing body."

Benwa turned toward Titus and nodded his head in agreement. "A Visigoth and a Roman leading a clan of the undead, it is no more absurd than the fact
that
we are here in a future world inside
bodies,
which not our own. What say
you,
Roman?"

Titus walked up to Benwa and placed his hand on the Vikings shoulder. "I can cast aside my animosity to your
people,
if you can do the same."

Benwa slapped his hand down on the Roman's shoulder and let out a deep laugh. My wife would cut my throat as I slept if she knew I would serve next to a Roman. Based on how much it would anger her, I will serve with you."

Prometheus asked, "Could anyone please explain why we are here? I do not understand this gift to our
de
s
cend
a
nts
,
but realize it is of utmost importance. As we were all sent here by Zeus, I'm sure we can agree it would be ill advised to anger him."

"Zeus?" Benwa replied in surprise. "I walked in
Valhalla
and drank ale with Odin himself."

Vic replied, "
Valhalla
? I stood at the Pearly Gates and spoke directly to St. Peter."

Random voices sprang up from the crowd. "I came here from
Zion
."

"Abraham gave me very detailed instructions."

"Buddha told me of my purpose."

Titus raised his hand and interjected. "As I stood at the feet of Jupiter, it appears we have all been sent by different Gods. It does not seem of consequence who sent
us,
but why." He pointed to the Athenian. "Good Sir Prometheus has questions. The same questions all of us had when we arrived in the strange world. I say while we still have light of day remaining, we gather all newcomers and instruct them to our purpose of existence in this era." He pointed with an open hand to the edge of the crowd. "As she did an excellent task of explaining such details to me and others, I request once again upon our Sumerian royalty, the fine Princess Rachel."

From the edge of the crowd, a young H
arajuku
G
irl
stepped from the shadows into the light. The
five-foot
tall Japanese girl with bright pink hair, pale skin, light blue lipstick, and short black dress with a red tutu around her waist, stood with aristocratic aplomb. She had a dried streak of blood which ran from under her scalp down past her ear which gave an indication of how this body died. She carried her posture as a princess would when she addressed a room. With her hands clasped in front of her, she said, "I will gladly speak with our new arrivals."

Prometheus joined several of his fellow undead inside what remained of the warehouse manager's office. Rachel stood on top of an old plastic crate in front of the whiteboard hanging
crooked
on the wall. As she turned to write the letters, "DNA" on the board, he noticed her backpack shaped like a small black and white bear clinging to her shoulders. Facing the group, she said, "We have all been sent here for this magic string of life called
d
eoxyribonucleic acid
or DNA for a name much friendlier to our tongues and ears."

Prometheus spoke up. "Before you explain this DNA, would you first instruct me as to how we arrived here? Was it some form of necromancy?"

A large
middle-aged
man in an ill fitting dirty t-shirt replied. "Dude, the powers that be turned us into zombies. Deal with it."

Completely confused, Prometheus turned back to Rachel who said, "We all had many questions when we first arrived. It is
better
you remain patient and your answers will eventually arrive." She glanced around the room and went back to her speech. "This DNA is what gives us life and determines our height, the color of our eyes, if we are men or women," she touched a strand of her hair, "and
apparently
if one would be born with bright pink hair.
This
string
is what
we must collect in order to give our
endowment
to our living descendents. Our gifts are all
different,
but
apparently,
much desired by those still living. My
endue
is the cure for something called arthritis. I do not know what it
is,
only these people with their flying machines and lights with no
flames,
do not know how to relieve themselves of this affliction."

A very elderly man in a nice suite said, "I was attending college only last week. Apparently, chugging a bottle of whiskey can kill you. I guess I lost that bet. Anyway, DNA is in our skin and muscle tissue, and blood and our organs. How do we turn the DNA into whatever cure we have?"

Princess Rachel turned toward him keeping the poise of her royal title. "Many of us have already begun the process. The bodies we have been given will transform the strings of life the same way it transformed the food we ate into blood and skin and the energy to move. It will be stored in our spirit."

Prometheus asked, "How are we to get this string of life into our stomachs?"

"We must take a bite out of one of the living. Their flesh is not to sustain our existence, but it is to process into what will give our
de
s
cend
a
nts
longer lives."

The crowd let out a common sigh of disgust hearing they would need to eat the living as the college student in the elderly body said, "Hey, we're dead. The thought of being a zombie freaks me out more than what I have to do as a one of them. Whatever I need to do to get through this crazy ride, let's get on with it."

The Princess continued. "We seem to exist without the need for food or water. Many of our desires remain. Companionship, music, laughter, earthly desires, all continue because they are a part of our essence which has been transferred into these bodies. I have heard some refer to it as our soul."

A man wearing a fire retardant
racecar
drivers suit riddled with burn marks raised his hand and asked, "You said we all need to process different amounts of this DNA. How do we know when we have
processed
enough? I do not wish to eat any more human flesh than necessary."

Rachel explained, "As told to me by An and Enlil, our eyes will turn to bright
green,
when only one additional strand is needed. When we have processed our required amount of this string of life, our eyes will glow bluer than the sky."

The college student replied, "What's the big deal? All we need to do is explain it to the living and I'm sure we'll get all kinds of freaks who'll volunteer. Hell, I've got some buddies who'll do it on a dare if they know there will be beer for them at the end."

Rachel smiled politely. "I do not understand all of your words but the process will not be as easy as you have imagined. We will go out in search of supplies and strings of life. You will experience what we have already witnessed. However, currently this great city appears to be in the midst of a celebration of the walking dead. They dress up as us, drink ale and make
m
e
rry
. We may be able to conceal ourselves within their ranks."

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