Another clueless, airhead model

Monday, December 24, 2012

Zombies of Dungpileton

                                                 



This a fictional web novel
                  All characters, living or dead, and locations or events in this web novel
                                         are entirely fictitious or merely coincidental


                                                               Chapter 11


Oh, you satisfy me like no man before.  I want to join your commune of hippie women in New Mexico.  Can you schedule me for more sex this week?  Please, I’m begging you.
 

Sorry Amy Pond, with a body like this I’m booked for months.  Women call it a miracle, I call it a curse.  

Oh please baby, satisfy me again.  Oh please give it to me now….


Hey, wake up!

Race looked down at the botanist.  He awoke, dreary eyed with a pounding headache.  He was dreaming by the toilet bowl in his bathroom.  Last night he staggered back to his house after hiding from an enraged knife-wielding hooker after vomiting on her; a consequence of his stomach rejecting the combination of Artemisia extract and thousands of dead parasites.   His torso was covered in dried, black bile.  He moaned a simple request. 

White Widow please.  It’s in a jar by my peyote.

Race returned with the botanist’s preferred strain of medical cannabis.  He lit the joint, took a drag then leaned back against the toilet.

Ah, that’s better.
 
Race shook his head.  This was not the first failed attempt by the botanist to find someone for sex following a mission and more often than not it ended in disaster. 
You never learn, do you?  Just like that time in Thailand.  We barely escaped the Thai Royal Army after you propositioned the daughter of General Chan.

I thought she wanted me. 

You always think that.  Well, you better clean up.  I’ll have a better picture of where we stand after meeting with the Family rep in the Mayor’s office.
  
You should leave after I distract those men watching the house, replied the botanist.

Who? Race queried.  Paranoia more often than not validated someone was spying on him. 

They were hard to miss when I came home.  The hookers avoided them like the plague where they parked their black van.  You can slip out after they follow me to Whataburger. 

Thirty minutes later Race watched from a window as a black, unmarked van follow the botanist in his SUV to Whataburger.   When it turned the street corner he left the house in his vehicle, detouring ten additional minutes. 

Dungpileton City Hall

Race was apprehensive about showing his NSA identification card to pass through city hall security with his K-bar or Desert Eagle.  He didn’t like the confirmation of his high profile presence but this was secondary to lacking a weapon for defense should the Family find out his complicity in the death of Darya Rachmaninoff.   He entered the reception area expecting to find Darlene in a meth induced haze but instead she greeted him in a professional albeit monotone voice.

Good morning Mr. Banner.  Mayor Angleton is expecting you sir.

Race entered the office.  The mayor rose to shake his hand then introduced two men sitting adjacent to his desk.  Both were Caucasian, athletic in stature; just over six feet tall, smartly dress in identical pressed white short sleeved shirts, black ties and black trousers with patent leather black shoes.  Their hair styles were also identical; short, simply tapered and parted on the left.

Race, this is Mr. Neil Huntsman and Mr. Bob Douglass.
 
Mr. Huntsman immediately corrected the mayor.

Mayor, please.  We prefer to be introduced as Brother Neil and Brother Bob.
 
Race greeted the men then sat in a chair facing the mayor but at the corner of his eye he noticed that Neil and Bob continued to stare at him.  Nothing about this setting was foreign to Race.  He never expected to be trusted but only deceptive enough to continue the mission.  There men seemed innocuous in appearance except for a small bulge at the base of their heads.  The mayor opened the discussion.
 
Gentlemen, we are here today to finalize the initial stages of infection to the citizens of Dungpileton by the zombie parasite.   We need to keep this infection manageable and to this end I propose we isolate the contagion to activities which target the residents instead of tourists.  Fortunately our largest tourist attraction, the Dungpileton Founders Parade, is still a month away.

Neil interjected.

It appears that the largest gathering of citizens in this town occurs on Sunday during church services.  Brother Bob and I are very pleased the sheep of our Lord’s flock are so dedicated.

Race held his tongue about the brothel next door to the church which was an obvious conduit for the church to siphon in attendees after they took care of personal business.  No doubt wanting to placate the guilt of their sinful lusting.  The mayor continued.

Gentlemen, we will use a two-fold approach to infecting the population.  Yesterday we introduced the zombie parasite to all prostitutes that are on contract with the brothels.  It was a simple matter of having enough infected customers with a lot of money.  Naturally this doesn’t account for the women or children therefore we have a visiting pastor from China introduce the parasite cysts in their communion wafers.  Following the service attendees will be guided to a large revival area where those who did not receive communion will be infected with barbeque.  I seriously doubt no one will pass up free food.  The obvious signs of nebulous expressions will signal brothers Bob and Neil to be front and center of the crowd to imprint on them as their masters.

The mayor paused, and then spoke into his desk intercom to Darlene.

Darlene, will you please step inside my office?
 
Darlene entered the mayor’s office.  What was once a haggard meth addict was now a respectable looking woman albeit still aged beyond her years.   The mayor motioned his hand for her to sit in a chair besides Race.  She sat as she was told, never uttering a word.  With a side view Race noticed the bulging outline of the back of her head.

As for you, Race.  You are here as our enforcement.  You will ensure there are no non-zombie stragglers left alive in Dungpileton.  We have your first assignment and it is of the highest priority but first there is the matter of lunch.

Race saw no presence of food and was not about to eat anything from anyone associated with the Family.  He remained silent, giving an air of someone intent on fulfilling his mission when Neil posed an offer.

We know from your history that you are a man of loyalty and a proven asset to our project.  When you return from dispatching Damian Sigfried we want to offer you a command level position in our family.  Our Lord and Savior have given the human race a wonderful opportunity to attain a higher level of consciousness and euphoria when we join souls with the parasite.

Race was confused.  Having seen what the parasite did to its host he assumed being a mindless zombie was the end result.  He turned to the mayor, noticing for the first time the bulge at the base of his neck.  Neil continued.

Our geneticists had perfected a parasite that lives with us in perfect symbiosis.  The mind is vacant after cyst introduction but after 2 days the parasite and host work in tangent for our leader.  He never has to be present, instead relying on us to fulfill his grand mission for the Lord.  Only a few of us are blessed with this gift.  The rest are infected with the standard parasite therefore mindless minions in our service.


The mayor reached into his desk drawer to retrieve a steal mallet then spoke to Darlene.

Darlene honey, we need to show Race how the parasite lives in your skull.  Please come over to the desk and put your head on it.

Darlene walked to the desk and without hesitation laid her head down on it.  The mayor explained to Race what was about to transpire.

Race, Darlene has been an exceptional receptionist and a willing host for our second generation parasite but unfortunately her methamphetamine addition has degraded the function of her organs to the point where there is no recovery.  She has in her one more glorious task for us.  Is that right Darlene?

I give myself willing in the service of my father and lord.

Darlene stared at Race as the mayor brought the mallet down on her skull.  He didn’t flinch as blood and brains splattered on him.  Again the mayor raised the mallet and brought it down on Darlene’s skull, this time widening the crack enough for him to reach inside with both hands to split it open for observation of the parasite.  He beckoned for Race to approach for a closer look.  Race complied, concealing his rage and anguish.  Darlene died with the first mallet blow but the parasite’s death throes cause her limbs to twitch convulsively.  The mayor was as calm as a coroner describing dissected cadaver.

Look closer Race.  You will see how the parasite’s external nerves grow into all the regions of the brain.  It continues to grow until limited by the cranium then growth continues down the spine to continue merging with the arteries and veins.  Naturally with two organisms in one host the nutrient requirements have double.  We famish easily without twice the normal intake of food.  Gentlemen?

The mayor motioned for Neil and Bob to approach the desk, each removing a small pocket knife from there suit pockets.  The mayor positioned Darlene on the desk facing up.  With quivering hands he ripped her dress open, exposing her entire torso then, without hesitation reached into her skull to tear out a portion of brain and bit into it.  Neil and Bob plunged their knives into Darlene's midsection, slicing it open to access the vital organs.  There was no preference, whatever the men could grab was consumed in front of Race in a frenzied blood lust.

Race had come across acts of cannibalism before on a mission during the Congo civil war.  He walked through villages where dozens of women and children were raped and disemboweled, often finding severed limbs and heads still stewing in pots over fire pits but he never saw the slaughtered as it occurred.  He nearly vomited in disgust.  He wanted to grab each man and watch the life fade from their eyes as he snapped their necks but they all abruptly stopped, satiated for the moment.

Neil spoke up.

This may seem unsettling to you Race but you will come to relish the feeling of oneness with the parasite.  It rewards us for feeding it by triggering the pleasure centers of our brain.  A high no drug can equal and it is all ordained by God.

As Neil finished his face exhibited a look of euphoria.  He and Bob both reposed to chairs.  The mayor composed himself for an assignment for Race.

Our operatives have tracked the man who beat my nephew to death.  He died this morning from staph infection after surgery at Dungpileton General.  This man is eating at the only Whataburger in town with his coworkers and as it turned out one of them is targeted for termination by my beloved leader.  I am not privy to details but it appears he survived a recent assassination attempt.  This time I’m sure you will finish the job.

Race sensed he was talking about the rogue botanist.

What do you want me to do?

Just stand back and kill any survivors after my men open fire on the patrons with their automatic rifles.  Then leave with them before the police arrive.  Thereafter we need you to kill a biologist who is working in an area where we have disposed of radioactive byproducts from local factories.  Any questions?

There were none.

The mayor handed Race a slip of paper with the information he needed then slid back into his chair and closed his eyes.  He said nothing else, only smiled with a soft moan emanating from his blood stained mouth.
 
Killing the mayor and these men would be easy but it would lead to time consuming complications and those two operatives may not wait for him to begin the slaughter.  He phoned them immediately. 

The Pentagon
Arlington County, Virginia

David Rolan steadied himself for another punch.  It came straight into his nose, breaking cartilage and producing a profuse stream of blood.  Again, he was asked the same two questions from his inquisitor.

Who is the rouge botanist and why did you send him classified information?

David squinted through swollen eyes and cracked sockets.  It was enough to see where his tormentor stood.  He opened his mouth to utter a sentence; drawing the man closer.  When within range David spat in his face, covering it in a spackling of blood and teeth.  This solicited a barrage of punches until David passed out. 

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