The God Zombie, page 16
“Now.”
Asura stepped back and closed her eyes. Soon John’s body began trembling, and thick white foam poured from his mouth. A loud cracking noise sounded, and John’s head spun around, his eyes black and oozing liquid. With his head facing backward, his body crumpled and fell to the floor.
“Who dares to interrupt?” whispered a voice in John’s head.
John opened his eyes and looked around: everything was gone, and there was only blackness—only him standing in a dark place where light didn’t exist.
“Lord Balam, it is John, your humble servant.”
There was a pause, and then the deep, evil voice boomed. “YOU HAVE FAILED!”
“My Lord, I don’t understand. I’ve done as you instructed.”
“YOU’VE ALLOWED AN OLD ENEMY TO EMERGE FROM DEATH!”
“An old enemy?”
“YOUR CHILDHOOD FRIEND SEEKS TO DESTROY OUR PLANS, EVEN AS WE SPEAK!”
John thought for a moment. “Arlo? Is it Arlo?”
Balam was silent.
“But I don’t get it. How could Arlo . . . I mean, I killed him!”
“YOU DID NOT!”
John lowered his voice. “Please, Lord Balam. Tell me how to defeat him.”
“THE ONE YOU CALL ARLO HAS DISCOVERED A NEW PLANE OF EXISTENCE. HE IS EVEN MORE DANGEROUS IN DEATH THAN HE WAS IN LIFE.”
“Is there a way to permanently eliminate him?”
Balam remained silent while John began to panic, fearful that he was about to be tortured.
“Wait! I have his mother! Surely, we can use that to our advantage. He loves her, and there is nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure she’s safe.”
“WE WILL ALTER OUR PLANS. TAKE THE CHILDREN TO THE DEATH VALLEY ENTRANCE OF THE UNDERWORLD. WE WILL ASSIMILATE THEM BEFORE THERE IS FURTHER DAMAGE.”
“But Lord, I can do this. Please give me an opportunity to—”
“SILENCE! YOU WILL DO AS INSTRUCTED, OR I WILL PERSONALLY DEVOUR YOUR FLESH!”
John obediently lowered his head. “Yes, my Lord.”
There was a thunderous boom, and John was back on the stairs of the hospital, staring up at Asura.
“John? Master, are you okay?” asked Asura, leaning over John as he laid on the ground.
John climbed to his feet and wiped the drool from his mouth. “Prepare the aircraft. We’ll be taking the children to Death Valley.”
Asura looked puzzled. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
“It seems my old friend Arlo is causing trouble. Lord Balam wants to transport the children to Hell’s Gate as soon as possible.”
“Arlo? But he’s dead. I saw him.”
John chuckled. “Arlo was always more intelligent than most people thought. He even outsmarted me with this move.”
John turned to face Asura. “You gather the aircraft and figure out a way for us to airlift them out of here. I need to pay a visit to Arlo’s mother.”
“Why?”
“We need insurance if Arlo decides he wants to be a hero.”
Eyes in the Sky
As Forneus flew high above the clouds, he searched for an opening that allowed him to pass close to the hospital without being detected. After circling over the patch of black filth in the sky, he saw his opening and swooped down. He immediately saw activity on the hospital lawn and stopped his descent.
“What is going on here?” he whispered.
The children were all standing in a single-file line stretching from the field into the hospital. Meanwhile, the Huturo formed a line on the hospital’s perimeter facing the forest.
“They know about us,” he added.
Forneus stretched his enormous wings and flew close to the hospital, hoping to see activity inside. After circling the hospital twice, he spotted a woman being led up a staircase with Asura following close behind. Forneus shot high in the sky and hovered behind some rainy clouds. Finally, he spotted several large aircraft on the rooftop. Sitting beside the airplanes were two large cages—one filled with children, and the other with numerous children filing inside.
“They’re leaving!”
Forneus’s eyes blazed, and he shot up into the clouds. He didn’t realize that someone on the ground had noticed his fiery eyes shining in the darkness. John stepped out from the shadows and watched until Forneus was gone.
“That’s right,” John whispered. “Bring Arlo to me.”
The Rush to War
Arlo licked the remaining brain matter from inside the cow’s skull and tossed it aside. Just as he reached for the cow heart lying on the floor, he paused; the pile of bones on the other side of the room started glowing. Arlo watched as the bones began moving, snapping together like a giant jigsaw puzzle to form the torso of a skeleton. Once assembled, the torso leaned down, and a colossal skull rolled across the floor and attached itself to the wide neck of bones. Slowly, Forneus stood up, and the worms inside his head began squirming, casting an eerie glow on the pile of dead animals in front of Arlo and Isadora.
“We have a problem,” said Forneus as he walked over to the pile of rotting meat in front of the teenagers.
“Tell me about it,” replied Arlo. “We’re in deep shit.”
Isadora finished licking a pig skull and tossed the bone aside.
“The shit we saw out there was scary as hell,” she said.
Forneus quickly grabbed a pig carcass, ripped the top of its skull off, scooped out a handful of brains, and shoved them into his mouth. Arlo watched as the worms in Forneus’s skull wriggled, and the snakes in his chest started to twist in excitement as they digested the meat.
“What did you see?” asked Forneus.
“We were able to kill one of the Huturo,” replied Arlo.
Forneus ripped off one of the pig’s legs and shoved it in his mouth.
“And?”
“And they transform into something worse.”
“Worse?”
“First, the Huturo’s bodies melt into a liquid. After a few minutes, the liquid transforms into a gas. Anyone that smells that gas becomes a hideous vampire creature with mouths all over their body.”
“Wicked genius.”
“Meanwhile, the gas spreads a few feet from the Huturo’s body, transforming plants, trees, and wildlife into these strange plants I’ve never seen before.”
“Of course. The Huturo are here to transform Earth into Hell.”
“What do we do?”
“Kill as many as possible.”
Isadora stood and walked over to Forneus. “Didn’t you hear a word we said? If you kill those things, they come back as something much worse. The one we killed is out there killing people and spreading that virus everywhere, and you want to make more of them?”
Forneus sat silently, chewing on his food. “At this point, we do not have another option. War is upon us, whether we choose to accept it or not. Hell is coming, and the only thing we have to fight them with is bone and decaying flesh.”
Arlo stood. “What about the women in the forest? They made the Huturo stronger with their sorcery. Maybe they could create a spell to weaken the new creature.”
“It’s possible. But doing so would surely get the attention of Hell, and I got the feeling the women in the forest don’t want confrontation. Some people prefer living in the shadows.”
Arlo shrugged. “Who cares? As you said, war is here. Hell is coming to their doorstep, whether they like it or not.”
Forneus tossed the empty bone into the pile of carcasses. “There’s something else you need to know. John is leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“A mass exodus has begun. John is taking the children away.”
“To where?”
“My guess? Hell.”
“But why?”
“I think they know we’re plotting against them. I saw them moving your mother.”
Arlo flashed a worried look. “They’re taking her to Hell?”
“They’re using her as bait to draw you out.”
Arlo began trembling and pacing the room. “Well . . . that’s my mother. I can’t just sit here,” he finally replied.
“What do you recommend, Forneus?” asked Isadora.
“We don’t have a choice. We must attack now. It’s the best opportunity for Arlo to free his mother, and the best opportunity I have to save as many souls as possible. If we allow John to reach Hell with the payload of children, they’ll be gone forever, and we’ll all be guilty of not trying to free them. Trust me. Heaven will punish us all when it comes to children’s souls.”
Forneus rose from the ground, grabbed a huge handful of bloody animal entrails, and shoved them into his mouth.
“Take your final bite of food. We leave in two minutes.”
Twisted Reality
Claire’s wet hair stuck to her face like plastic. As the stinging cold rain drenched her body, she stared at the line of emotionless children filing into the cages, and her heart sank. Arlo was somewhere out in the storm, motherless and lost. She tried finding solace in the possibility that her husband, Jamie, was out searching for their son, but she had no way of knowing; Jamie mysteriously disappeared when Manuel and the old woman appeared at their house.
“Manuel,” Claire whispered under the howling wind. “Now he’s calling himself John.”
The thought of such a ridiculous notion both mystified and terrified Claire. What teenage boy would walk around changing their identity? And who was this elderly woman who suddenly appeared at their doorstep in the night? In all the years Claire knew Manuel and his family, she’d never seen this woman. The boy who spent numerous nights playing video games with Arlo was now a frightening enigma, filled with a new maturity she’d never seen, and a coldness in the center of his being that told Claire he was a murderer. She didn’t know how to reconcile those facts with what she knew of the boy, but the sinister side of her son’s best friend was apparent; Manuel killed people and would kill her if he had to.
Suddenly doubt overcame Claire, and she reached down with her shackled hands and pinched her thigh. Maybe she was imagining all of this and had been in an accident. After all, she was in a hospital. Perhaps she had hit her head and was in an operating room, unconscious and receiving treatment. It could’ve all started back at the house when she’d seen Arlo as a hideous version of himself.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Claire whispered before pinching herself again.
Between Arlo’s zombie-like appearance and her missing husband, everything made sense now. How else could she explain all this madness? The people out on the lawn with the big eyes and monstrous faces, the headless corpses lying on the hospital floor, the intestines hanging from the ceiling. Claire had to be injured. It was either that or lying on the floor, drugged in some mental facility, depressed by her son’s disappearance.
Suddenly the hospital door opened, and John walked out with Asura following closely behind. They walked past the deformed child standing guard at the entrance and over to Claire where she stood shackled, leaning against the wall.
“Mrs. Ortega, I hope you can forgive me for keeping you here. Don’t worry. We’re just waiting for a few more people to be loaded, and then we’ll be on our way,” said John.
Claire looked at John briefly, then lowered her head.
“Don’t you want to know why you’re here?” asked John.
“No, Manuel. I don’t want to know,” she replied.
Asura stepped from behind John. “She misses her son,” mumbled Asura.
Claire glanced at the old woman and returned to staring at the puddles on the ground.
John smiled. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Ortega. Arlo’s going to be—”
Suddenly there was an explosion that shook the whole hospital.
John turned to Asura. “He’s here! Are you ready?”
“Yes, John. Everything’s in place.”
John and Asura ran back into the building, and Claire quickly headed to the rooftop’s edge to look below. Thousands of zombies were pouring out of the forests onto the lawn. Claire stumbled back, shaking her head in disbelief.
“What’s happening to me?” Claire asked.
The two monsters guarding the exit looked at Claire briefly and turned to one another, speaking in a strange language. Claire started pinching her thigh continuously and shaking her head, refusing to believe what she saw. Suddenly, growling filled the night air, and Claire heard awful screams from the field below. She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. Claire’s mind began to overload, and she stumbled back to the wall as the whole building shuddered beneath her feet. Claire shot a worried look at the kids piling into the cages; several of them cast a lazy glance toward the rooftop’s edge, but none ventured to take a look or even acknowledge Claire.
Slowly, she sank to the ground. Covering her head and sobbing uncontrollably, she blacked out.
Attack of the Zombies
Arlo gave the command inside his mind, and the hoard of zombies started pouring onto the field in a mindless rage. There were thousands of them. Some were missing pieces of their faces and body parts, while others were massive hulks of muscle, all running through the toxic rain with their decaying wrinkled flesh shimmering, filled with the desire to eat their enemies’ brains.
Meanwhile, Arlo and Isadora waited silently in the shadows, watching. They knew not to run onto the field until there was no other choice; they could feel John in the hospital, looking out of one of the windows, searching for an opportunity to make permanent the death that Arlo had somehow evaded.
As the battle raged, Arlo observed something peculiar; the numerous Huturo posted on the hospital’s perimeter seemed confused. Instead of childlike laughter, the monsters seemed startled, racked with uncertainty. They searched for answers amongst each other’s faces, seemingly unsure how to respond to the army of zombies sprinting toward them.
The first zombie to reach one of the Huturo was a muscular man with a gaping wound in his torso. The zombie punched the Huturo and used his other hand to dig into one of its eyes. As the Huturo stumbled back with blood and red scorpions covering its face, it became furious, turning to the other creatures and releasing a terrifying growl. As if they all suddenly understood, the Huturo became raging storms of fury. They jumped on the muscular zombie, tearing and slicing at his torso until his guts fell out of his stomach onto the wet grass. With black fluid leaking from his mouth, the zombie screamed and bit into the head of the closest Huturo. Another Huturo grabbed the man and pulled his head and spine out of his body. With the head still thrashing, attempting to bite the monster, the Huturo heaved the zombie skull into the forest before turning back to confront another creature.
After seeing several of their counterparts ripping the heads off the zombies, the other Huturo began using the same tactic, snatching off zombies’ skulls and ripping out their spinal cords. But Arlo noticed the Huturo didn’t take the heads and spines into their bodies as they’d done with the humans. Instead, they discarded their handiwork by dropping them where they decapitated their victims, leaving the ground littered with heads. Arlo saw an opportunity. Instead of moving the group away from danger, he implemented a new strategy. For the Huturo closest to the forest, he sent out a message:
“Don’t fight,” Arlo said in his mind.
He wanted the Huturo to take as many victims as possible. Gradually, the heads and spines began piling up beneath the Huturo.
Arlo flashed a wicked grin at Isadora and kissed her decaying lips. “Look! Do you see what’s happening?” he asked, pointing to the edge of the battle.
“Yeah! They’re fucked!” whispered Isadora.
The heads of the zombies weren’t just skulls piling up beneath the feet of the Huturo. They were living, breathing, and biting weapons. Arlo understood that the Huturo knew nothing of zombie life and didn’t understand that zombies only died from the Sun Oil; all other mortal attacks could only result in injuries. No matter how many zombies the Huturo ripped apart, the undead were still the undead. The never-ending hunger for brains and flesh would continue until they got what they wanted.
The skulls began chewing on the legs of the Huturo, spilling their blood all over the field. And although the scorpions in the Huturo’s blood snapped and ripped the skin off the zombies’ skulls, the undead continued biting hungrily, chewing, bringing the Huturo to their knees in agony before biting into their torsos.
Still, Arlo continued pushing the zombies to attack. He concentrated his mental energy on directing the murderous mob toward the hospital entrance. With wild eyes, Arlo watched rotting flesh and scorpion-filled blood coat the grass. The horrific screaming and gruesome ripping of organs from the bodies became comforting, music that reminded him they were making progress. With every dead Huturo, Arlo knew he was getting closer to his mom.
“Die,” Arlo thought over and over. “Just die.”
Isadora stared at Arlo, but she knew not to say anything. They only had one chance to reach his mother, and Arlo took the lead.
The zombies tore into the red flesh of the Huturo like jackals on a carcass. With thick goo oozing from their mouths, they bit the skulls of the monsters, attempting to eat their brains. Some were successful and latched onto the Huturo’s large heads, sucking until they penetrated, and the beast sank into the mud. Others needed help bringing down the four-armed creatures and waited until other zombies were close enough to initiate a group attack.
Arlo tried guiding the zombies as best he could. When a zombie was struggling, he quickly sent reinforcements to assist. Sometimes he was successful in extracting the danger, but mostly he wasn’t. The Huturo were too powerful and promptly ripped off heads like pulling weeds from the ground.
Isadora saw one of the Huturo stiffen and fall to the ground. Seconds later, a glowing purple cloud rose, and the wind blew it toward the hospital.
“Oh, no,” said Isadora. “The kids!”
Arlo saw the mist and grabbed Isadora’s hand. “Come on! We’ve got to get to the hospital before that cloud does!”
