Turned
A mysterious woman has a job for Steve Heaton, mad scientist, maker of zombies.
Written for the March Madness writing challenge.
He didn't realise he'd put his finger into his mouth until it was there, and he could taste the coppery tang of his own blood. He spat, trying to get the taste out of his mouth, and went back to the cottage. Blood from his bitten finger dripped onto his jacket and pants as he fumbled for the keys. He headed straight for the kitchen sink and run the cold tap over the wound, watching thin threads of blood mingle with the water as it poured down the drain. He wrapped some kitchen towel around it and held it, hoping to staunch the flow. It eventually stopped, but by that point he wasn't feeling well. He looked for his phone. A tiny number 106 sat on top of the phone icon. He didn't want to deal with it, but the phone flashed as another call came in. He answered it.
“Governor, it's Alice.”
“Hey,” he replied, as dizziness and nausea began to take over.
“Hey?” she asked, as if it was an insult. “Lieutenant Governor Ramirez has taken over and is rescinding all the PV protections. You are still the governor until Hunt gets inaugurated. But he's been arrested, and I can't see him governing from jail, can you?”
“Okay.”
“Governor, did you hear a word I said? You're being cut out of the equation. Where are you?”
“I lost.”
“Well, we can't find you, sir. What do I say? You abandoned your post?”
He could feel himself fading. “Doesn't matter.”
“Sir, your legacy is being undermined.”
“It's Jeanette's legacy,” he mumbled. “All of this was her idea. Even the cat.” It occurred to him at that moment that he'd never had a thought of his own since assuming office. He chuckled. “Well how about that? I finally had an idea of my own, and made it happen. Nobody can undermine me here or make me do things I don't want to do. I'm staying.”
Alice's voice was gentle, wheedling. “Where are you staying, sir?”
“Swannanoa. I won't be long. I'm going now.” He ended the call and stumbled back out into the sunshine. There was a chair in the garden. He moved it to get the best view of his surroundings and settled down into it. “Doesn't matter. I'm going now. I won't be long.” He closed his eyes and let himself drift. Something small and furry climbed up onto his lap and purred.
*****
“The doll is in the house.”
Steve Heaton looked up from his phone and grinned. “We just got ourselves a cool million, Rankin.”
The zombie nodded and pursed his dry lips. “What will you spend it on, Steve?”
“An upgrade for you, my friend. It's the least I can do.”
“I'll believe that when I see it.”
“Oh, you'll see it,” Steve enthused. “I'll get you a pump to move oxygenated fluid dyed red around you. This won't just get rid of the marbling, it will also, uh, reinflate you, if you catch my drift.”
Rankin put his head on one side. “Reinflate what?”
Steve winked for longer than was strictly necessary. “Precisely.”
“Oh.”
“Don't let me know how you get on.”
“What?”
“I don't want to know.” He looked back at the phone. It pinged again. “Do you want to help me with this? You'll get to see my process.”
Rankin shrugged. “I can't see much these days.”
“That is what the upgrade is for. Let's go.”
They took Granny Staines’s car to the location indicated—and found it was a clinic. Steve almost didn't go in, but a woman came out waving. He stopped.
“I'm ‘J-Bug 1985,’” she said. “Check your phone. You'll find it's all there.”
It was.
“Come with me.”
“Stay here,” Steve said to Rankin, and followed her inside.
“For security reasons,” she explained, “we're using code names. I'm Ladybird. You're Mantis. Spider and Dragonfly are in the theatre. Let's go.”
Through the atrium, down a corridor and into a large room they went. Lying in a gurney, gasping and stretching in every direction was Governor Gabbin.
Steve was astonished. “That's Governor Gabbin!”
“Can you save him?”
The governor raised a hand and clawed it, baring his teeth.
“No problem.”
“Cut above the hairline for the brain implants,” she ordered. “Don't make it too obvious.”
“Okay. Give me a bit of space, please.” He regarded the governor. “What happened to him?”
The governor looked at him with glowing greenish eyes.
Ladybird pursed her lips, as if she was considering not telling him, but answered, “His cat bit him.”
Steve stepped back. “Is this rabies?”
She indicated a wicker pet carrier. “That's the cat.”
Steve took a closer look. Its eyes were glowing green. “Okay. I work along and need plenty of space.
An hour later, Steve came out, saying “it is done.”
Ladybird stepped forward to greet Steve and his companion.
“Hello Jeanette, good to see you,” the governor said, smiling.
“Are you ready to get back to work?”
“Why, yes I am,” he replied, beaming.
This story follows A Way Out.
Wow, this has a good opening with the cat being my favorite part.
But I'm a bit confused about the zombies though. Is this a story about a bunch of people deal with injuries that contaminate zombies? Guess I'll read the next story to find out.