The Village of Dead Souls: A Zombie Novel (22 page)

Brown turned to the video screen. "What do you need? I doubt you called to let me know how we are so screwed."

The man on the screen responded, "Unfortunately, for you
,
it gets worse."

"Great."

"It looks like public enemy number one is back in your area."

The General picked up an ammo canister and threw it across the bunker. "Hellion! That's just what I need now. Can I shoot her on
sight
?"

"As much as that would bring you pleasure, we need her alive. There's too much knowledge bouncing around her brain that we can use. She still has a vast network of followers
,
who still think the re-ans are just a group of misunderstood people looking for a new start on life."

"Thanks for the pick
me
up." Brown said sarcastically.

"Oh, there's more."

The large General placed his hands on top of the crate, holding the video screen, and
placing
his face close to the camera. "And what other wonderful things do you have for me?"

The officer on the screen, pointed straight into his camera and said, "I think I'll let your aide tell you the next part."

A thin man in his early forties, quickly walked into the bunker. He wore denim jeans and a universal camouflage military jacket over his oxford cloth button down shirt. As the lieutenant gave the large General a piece of paper, he said, "We just lost a helicopter. It went down by the convention center."

Brown turned his attention away from the video screen and watched an M1 Abrams tank slowly drive across the lot toward the stadium. "Did our men make it out?"

"They didn't send up any flares and all we can hear on their radio is a bunch of re-an garble."

Several men ran next to the tank
,
waving their arms yelling, "Stop!"

The General kept his eyes on the heavy armor. "Johnson's unit is hold up just off of Colfax. Tell them to move in and rescue the crew.
Colton
and his men are east of his position and should provide some cover."

The lieutenant cleared his throat and nervously said, "Bill's unit has been overrun. We have a report of some re-ans trying to drive their M113 down Broadway."

"Damn it!" Brown lifted his right leg and kicked over an entire side of the sandbag barrier. The crate holding up the video screen fell over and the electronics shattered under a mass of white sparks. "Round up five men and go get that crew! We're running short on pilots and we need them back."

The Lieutenant remained in the bunker, staring at the General. He glanced down and shuffled his feet a bit
,
and
then turned his attention back to the officer.

Brown glanced at the tank headed for the stadium wall and
then
back at his lieutenant. "What? Why aren't you moving? I gave you an order. I know you're really a civilian
,
but you do know what an order is
,
don't you?"

The thin man reached in his back pocket, pulled out another piece of paper and handed it to his commander. As the General unfolded the note, the Lieutenant said, "Admiral Douglas died from the Omega virus yesterday and General Stanton was killed in action with the re-ans this morning in
Philadelphia
. You are now in charge of the entire military. With martial law in place, and with no sitting President, theoretically, you are now the leader of this nation."

General Brown cringed as he heard the M1 tank crash into the wall of the stadium behind him. "Great, as your Commander and Chief, I'm ordering you to go save our pilots."

The early morning sun beamed through the broken windows onto the
library
floor. Ravens perched on light fixtures and
the
bookshelves
through the room
, and they
appeared to be ready to scavenge their next meal. The once proud building tried to hold onto and display the remaining details of its beauty and unique architecture. Marble light
sconce
s held
bird’s
nests. Detailed ornate crown molding showed streaks of water damage. Soot from trashcan fires marred the brightly colored walls.

As he stood around the large table with the other undead, Prometheus stared at the streaks of light cascading down through the broken stained glass windows and thought of the same scene back in the warehouse
.
Only
this building had more
opulence
. Bartholomew pushed the brim of his hat up and pointed to a section of the large map spread across the wooden table. "This be the line where descendants have pulled back dar soldiers. We should scout dis new area over here fer supplies.
Sometimes,
we be finding less fortunate's who stayed behind. Those poor souls be our next feast
fer
us to be gathering the strings of life. "

Two more living dead approached the meeting. The man wearing a flannel hooded shirt and hardhat pointed to the zombie next to him. "Captain, we have a new arrival who may have valuable information for you."

A dead soul with short red hair and a golf shirt stepped up to the table. Prometheus said to the man, "Greetings
,
brother, what is your name and from where do you hail?"

The newcomer scanned the room with the empty
bookshelves
and said, "Tewy, people call me
Tewy
. Last
night,
I tried to get back to my
house
on the south
side
of
town,
when I started coughing up blood. I guess the Omega virus hit me fast."

Prometheus replied, "
Welcome,
brother Tewy."

Bartholomew asked, "What news
do you
have?"

Tewy stepped up to the table and glanced at the large map. "After Princess Rachel filled me
in
on our mission here, I came up with an idea of how we might be able to pass our cures and enhancements to those still living."

"Please
,
brother, tell us more." Prometheus said
,
as he welcomed the man to the group.

Tewy studied the area of the map on the north side of the downtown area. "The livings still think they can cure us. There's a scientist who is working on this remedy and his laboratory is right here," he tapped his finger on the map, "on the edge of our village. I think his name is Dr. Cronsworth. I read an article about him a month ago."

Bartholomew asked, "How can this man help us if he be trying to stop us with his studies and apothecary ways?"

"He has been studying the re-ans who have been captured. I saw pictures of them in the magazine article. Of all the people
there
, he should be in the best position to understand
that
we have cures for all our, I mean their afflictions. His lab is contracted to the CDC and he has the ability to see
that
our DNA has unusual characteristics."

"We not be able to speak to the descendants." The pirate turned back to the map with an analytical stare. "How we be getting this man to know we be having da cures he be seeking?"

"We break into his lab and leave DNA samples from anyone with blue or green eyes. He surely will show interest in what we leave behind and
he might
discover what it is we hold for them. He's a scientist. He'll surely think it unusual
that,
we risk the dangers for traveling outside of the quarantined
zone,
just to leave DNA samples."

Bartholomew stared at the area of the map where the scientist had his lab. "Dar be few soldiers on this side of our village. Perhaps
,
due to our fighting in da south." He glanced up at Nemi the Egyptian in a motorcycle rider's body. "How
many,
we be having with da green and blue eyes?"

Nemi replied, "No soul has yet to attain blue eyes. Prometheus and two of our other brothers have green."

"Where are these other two brothers? Bring them to me. We must be sending dem
on
this next venture."

"We will not be able to send them on this quest. Days
ago,
they left us
,
so they could join the Clan Titus. Their vision was not the same as ours."

The pirate captain turned to the Athenian. "You may only be a
swab
in me crew, but
you’ll
have to travel with us to this apothecary named Cronsworth. We will give him samples of your stings of life."

Princess Rachel entered the room with a woman dressed as a diner waitress. "Captain, we have a new arrival
,
who you may already know."

Bartholomew turned his attention to the woman in the short green dress with a white apron and collar. A small trickle of dried blood ran down from her left ear
,
indicating the previous owner may have died from the Omega virus. The waitress with the shoulder length brown hair said to him, "Even in the afterlife
,
ye still be a yellow bellied scurvy dog. I guess I still get me chance to run you through with me blade." She slapped her hip reaching for her weapon
,
which did not exist and glanced down at her side. "If I had a sword."

"Naw, it can't be." The pirate captain stepped away from the table, toward the woman, with his mouth agape." Gentlemen, here stands before ye a rare breed of sailor." He stopped in front of her with a smile on his face. "This be da lady
pirate,
Patricia
Quinlan,
and I use da term lady
,
quite loosely." He noticed the top few buttons of her dress
undone,
revealing her cleavage. "In all our disputes and clashing of metal, I never took in da sight of your curvaceous body. De current day style of clothes be more revealing as to your womanly attributes. If I had known, I would not have been so quick with me sword."

The lady pirate gave a quick scan
of
her dress and said, "This be not the body me wore in our days at sea. If my bosom had been so full, I would have only used it to distract your treacherous eye to gain advantage with me blade. Besides, rumor passed through the ports your… sword… was always rather quick."