Zombie Hell Read online

  Zombie Hell

  SMASHWORDS EDITION | COPYRIGHT 2015 Razor Blade

  THIS EBOOK IS LICENSED FOR YOUR PERSONAL ENJOYMENT ONLY. THIS EBOOK MAY NOT BE RE-SOLD OR GIVEN AWAY TO OTHER PEOPLE. IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO SHARE THIS BOOK WITH ANOTHER PERSON, PLEASE PURCHASE AN ADDITIONAL COPY FOR EACH RECIPIENT. IF YOU’RE READING THIS BOOK AND DID NOT PURCHASE IT, OR IT WAS NOT PURCHASED FOR YOUR USE ONLY, THEN PLEASE RETURN TO SMASHWORDS.COM AND PURCHASE YOUR OWN COPY. THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE HARD WORK OF THIS AUTHOR.

  Chapter 1

  On the carpet

  Karen Klein was in the middle of changing her tampon when her phone signaled a text. She sat back down on the toilet and checked the name on the screen. It was her boss Diane Garber asking her to come to her office as soon as possible. This was the message Karen had been dreading for a long time causing her to avoid her supervisor at all costs. Now she was stuck and began to sweat and shake.

  Finishing what she came to do, she exited the stall, washed up and left the ladies room in a panic. She then headed down the short hall to Diane’s office with her heart racing, pounding in her chest. She paused for a moment, knocked on the door and stepped inside the room where she saw the head of Human Resources Hermann Haas sitting to the side of Diane’s desk. He was guarding some papers lying neatly in a stack in front of him.

  “Come on in Karen,” Diane said. She was flat, cold and didn’t crack a smile.

  Karen stepped over to the desk and took the only seat available. She crossed her arms and legs taking a defensive posture waiting for someone to speak. The other two pushed papers around and made sure Karen was comfortable before they spoke up.

  “Do you know why we called you in here Karen?” Diane asked.

  Karen shrugged her shoulders and didn’t say a word trying to hide her nerves.

  “As you know, you have failed to make quota again for the fourth month in a row. You were put on probation two months ago with the agreement you would make up the difference. As of now-you have not.”

  “Are you firing me?” Karen asked.

  “What do you think we should do?” Diane asked. “We gave you ample time to make up for lost sales.”

  “Have you ever tried selling? Do you know what it’s like to walk up to a family and ask them if they would sell their dead relative?”

  “We provide all sales staff adequate training.”

  “Training is one thing, but seeing the look in their eyes when you offer up cash for the body of their loved one is something different. How many salespeople do you fire a month? I can’t imagine anyone stays long. What you ask us to do is insane.”

  “If it’s insane as you put it, why did you apply in the first place? If I remember correctly, you had a position in post-production.”

  “Post production pays minimum wage. Sales can be over a hundred grand a year. That’s if you can convince anyone to sell.”

  “Sales isn’t for everyone Karen,” Diane replied.

  “Is there any chance you can give me another chance?” Karen asked.

  Hermann spoke up, “According to my documentation, you’ve been given more than your share of chances. You’re costing us money.”

  “I’ve had some very hard cases, two of them were still teenagers. Can you imagine being a parent and having someone asking to buy your dead children for ten grand each? If they would have been older, or had some prior condition maybe. But these two were kids.”

  “We realize you’ve had your share of tough cases. But we can’t offer you anymore chances. We can offer you a part time position in post-production for now and that’s it,” Hermann replied.

  “Part time?” Karen asked.

  “If you would have brought in more sales, we would have full time work available, but because you failed to bring in anything new, part time is all we can afford right now,” Hermann said.

  “Give me another chance,” Karen said. She was begging.

  “If we were to give you another chance, we’d have to take the commission away. You would make only base pay. You could earn your commission back once you have a proven track record.”

  “How long would that be?”

  “Six months.”

  “Six months? What is base pay?”

  “Two thousand per body,” Hermann replied.

  “I’d need to buy twice as many bodies as before just to make up the difference.” Karen said. “You know, I never understood why you call it sales in the first place. I’m not selling anything, I’m buying dead bodies from families.”

  “They’re selling, its semantics, but it means the same in the end. Yes, you are technically a buyer, not a seller.”

  “Is that my only option?”

  “What do you mean?” Hermann asked.

  “Is there any other way I can make more money?”

  “Not at this time,” Hermann replied. “If you want to continue your job with the new stipulations you need to sign this contract. It will be good for six months when we will again review it with you. If you fail to make your quota, there will not be another chance and you won’t be allowed to work in post-production. In other words, you will be terminated.”

  Karen looked down at the contract that Hermann pushed towards her. There was a pen on top of the paper waiting for her to pick up and sign. She felt pressured, but was glad she wasn’t being let go. So she picked up the pen and signed her name at the bottom of the contract and pushed it back towards Hermann.

  Diane spoke up, “I just received a message of a possible fatality at Adams County Hospital. A car crossed the centerline and collided with a pickup truck. They have airlifted three and are sending two more by ambulance.”

  “Is that it?” Karen asked.

  “Yes, I’ll text you any new information I get. You better get going. Since we are low on inventory, we are authorizing you up to fifteen thousand per body for this situation. Do you understand?”

  Karen nodded her head and headed out of the office, down the hall and to her car. She needed to get to the hospital and make sense of what was going on before she approached the family or families with any fatalities.

  At the hospital, Karen exited her SUV, grabbed her work bag and headed into the emergency ward section of the hospital. With the passage of new laws, she was allowed to be in the emergency room as long as she stayed out of the way. When she located who she thought was the nurse in charge, she headed over and tried to get her attention. “What’s the situation?” Karen asked.

  The emergency room nurse looked at Karen and recognized her immediately as the vulture that hung out waiting for the dead. Karen didn’t have to wear her name badge anymore since everyone there knew her and who she worked for. “One dead for sure, that’s all I know.” The hospital staff was obligated by law to cooperate with Karen, answer her questions and assist her with delivery of the body if needed.

  “Sex? Age?” Karen asked.

  “Male, I think. Don’t quote me on that,” the emergency room nurse replied.

  Karen tried to walk through the polished metal doors that led back to the exam rooms but was cut off by the nurse and stopped in her tracks. “That’s as far as you go, you know that,” the nurse stated as fact.

  Frustrated, Karen looked around for family members. She was good at picking them out, they were the ones that were usually distraught and crying. It didn’t take long for her to find a group huddled together and she approached, more confident than ever.

  “Hi, my name’s Karen Klein, from Live Again LLC, is there someone I can speak too?”

  The small crowd separated and looked at Karen like she was the strangest thing they had ever seen. Still in tears, a woman replied, “From where?”

  “Live Again LLC, we repurpose the dead,” Karen replied.

  “What
are you talking about?” the woman asked. “Repurpose the dead.”

  “Let me explain,” Karen said as she fished a flyer out of her bag. She handed the flyer to the woman and turned it to the backside. “If you read there, it explains everything.”

  “No, you tell me,” the woman said wiping away a tear from her eye.

  Karen was hesitant, she never liked explaining the details out loud, but she needed to make a sale today or she would never be confident again. “We buy dead bodies,” Karen replied with a nervous smile.

  “What makes you think I have a dead body to sell?” the woman asked.

  “I spoke to the RN, she said there was at least one fatality.”

  “Did she say who it was?” the woman asked.

  “No, but I assumed since you were crying you knew him.”

  “Him?”

  “She thought it was a male.”

  “You fucking bitch!” the woman shouted. “How dare you come up to me and offer to buy a dead family member from me!”

  Just then a man from the group put his hand on Karen’s arm and pulled her to the side. He shoved her away and told her to get lost.

  “I have cash,” Karen said. “I am authorized up to fifteen thousand per body.”

  “You can’t put a price on my family,” the woman said. “Get the hell out of here.”

  “That’s fifteen thousand you won’t have to spend on a funeral. That’s money in your pocket. We pay for the service and you walk away with money in the bank. That’s a lot better than you paying off a funeral for ten years.”

  “And what do you do with the bodies you buy?” the woman asked.

  “That’s confidential,” Karen replied. “Once we purchase the body, it becomes the property of Live Again LLC.”

  “So you can make a department store mannequin out of it? So me and my family can find it selling clothes in a window display? Fuck you, get lost.”

  “I can’t tell you what we do with the bodies, but I can assure you that you will never find it used in public,” Karen replied.

  “Used? That sounds so horrible,” the woman said.

  “Fifteen thousand dollars is a lot of money. Money you didn’t have before. You get your service, you get your casket and plot. We keep the body. We even offer a replica to place in the coffin if you choose to display it.”

  As Karen finished her last word, the emergency room RN stepped over and called her away to the side of the room. “We have two confirmed dead. Both from the car.”

  “Do you have names?” Karen asked.

  The nurse handed Karen a slip of paper and walked away, but before she could get too far, Karen asked if the family she had been speaking too were from the family in the car. The nurse nodded yes and continued on her way. Karen took the paper and walked back over to the family. She looked down at the sheet and then back up to the woman. “I can offer thirty thousand dollars,” Karen said.

  It took but a second for the woman to do the math and realize two of her family members were now dead. “Who?” she asked.

  Karen looked down at the paper and replied, “Eric and Sandy,”

  The woman dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands sobbing. The same man that pushed her away before grabbed Karen by the arm and dragged her back to the nurse’s station yanking her back and forth as hard as he could. “You stay the fuck away from us, do you understand me?” the man asked. He glared at Karen letting her know he was all business. Then with a sudden change of heart and the prospect of thirty thousand dollars in cash the man whispered, “I’ll sell you the bodies, but you have to let me talk to her first. Give me a chance to calm her down. What do I have to do to make this stick? Do you have a contract or something?”

  Karen nodded her head and motioned towards her work bag.

  “Good, give me an hour or so, I won’t take a check, so you better have a way to wire this to my bank account.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Karen said quietly. She looked over the man’s shoulder to the woman who was now being consoled by another lady. “I’ll be here all day.”

  Chapter 2

  Post Production

  Two bodies were delivered to the post production department at Live Again LLC and stored temporarily in the cooler. Both were in marginal shape and slated to be examined by the transfer team captain for assessment. If the bodies were in good enough shape, they would begin the process of revival and reuse. This morning department head Jake Deepe was called in to check out the bodies and would bring in his staff if he felt the transfer would be a success. Written into the contract was a clause that stated if the process didn’t work, the family would only receive ten percent of the total payout for the body and funeral costs. That would be a total of fifteen hundred dollars per body in this case plus expenses.

  “What do you think?” Jake’s assistant asked. Her name was Leah Karr. A twenty something tall Registered nurse with the looks of a model.

  “Her x-rays showed a lot of trauma,” Jake replied, “I’m not sure about her, or the male for that matter. Bones are hard to heal in live humans, it can take six months in a repurposed unit.”

  “Why don’t you call them what they are?”

  “I don’t think it’s professional to call them zombies.”

  “No one’s around. Who are you going to offend?”

  “No thanks, once I get in that habit, I’ll say it to my boss and I’ll be fucked.”

  “It’s not like they can replace you,” Leah said. “It takes a lot of skill to hook these bodies up and get them running again.”

  “Speaking of that, we need to start the flush,” Jake said. “Hand me the IV set please.”

  Leah handed Jake an IV set and a box of sterile gloves. Jake donned a mask and swabbed the neck near the carotid artery. After cutting the skin, Jake located the artery and inserted the embalming cannula and taped it securely to the body. He then inserted another cannula into the jugular vein to allow the body fluids to drain out letting his mixture replace what was inside the body.

  “Ok,” Jake said to Leah letting her know to turn on the embalming machine. A machine that replaced the blood in the dead body not with formaldehyde, but with a proprietary mixture of glucose, dissolved oxygen, electrolytes and other trace chemicals to start the reanimation of the body. When the fluids were totally replaced, a twenty milliliter dose of gene spliced proteins would be added prior to the electric shock that would bring the body back to life. A life nothing like that before death, a kind of death in itself.

  One hour after the proteins were added, Jake attached a console to the back of the body and fastened it with screws to the scapula. The console was large enough to hold a canister of concentrated glucose and a canister of liquid oxygen that would be infused into the body once alive. The glucose and oxygen would be enough to keep the body living and working for three days, then would be replaced up to three times allowing the body to acclimate to its new environment. Eventually the body would no longer need the glucose and would be able to survive on its own living off of specially prepared food made by the company. Another revenue stream created for the bottom line.

  “I think we’re ready,” Jake said.

  Leah grabbed two EKC leads and stuck them to the chest in a diagonal pattern that crossed the heart. She set the machine to four hundred and twenty joules and looked to Jake to let him know the system was ready.

  “Go,” Jake said and waited for the body to jolt.

  As the shock hit the body, it seized up and bounced like a ball clearing the table. This always scared Leah and she never got used to it.

  Jake looked at the face of the body lying on the slab and tried to see if there was any signs of life. Since the heart would not beat once revived, a heart monitor was useless. Because of this, a repurpose (a term the company coined) had to be put on dialysis every three days to remove the buildup waste and electrolytes that would reduce its function and return it to the state of death. “I see something,” Jake said. One in ten bo
dies failed to come back from the dead and Jake was used to seeing something right away. Since they were only rejuvenating the cells, most bodies bounced back quickly if they were fresh.

  The newly repurposed female opened its mouth like it was trying to speak. But then closed its mouth and looked around at the two staff that were hovering to the sides of the table looking down at her. Since the body was on concentrated oxygen, it didn’t need to breathe, so the lung functions were diminished. This would change over time and after about two weeks would no longer require oxygen assistance. At that point the repurpose could make sounds. It had to as a new product in the slave line, it had to communicate somehow or it was worthless.

  “Put her on calcium IV two thousand milligrams over two hours every day for a month. We need to get her bones healed,” Jake said. Jake wasn’t a doctor, but he didn’t need to be a doctor to work on the dead. And once the dead were repurposed, they were still technically considered dead in the eyes of the law. They were also considered property. “Put her in the post op,” Jake added. “And make sure her restraints are secure.”

  Leah tugged at the leather straps that held the repurpose down. The woman formerly known as Sandy was now labeled with a barcode like a product in a grocery store. She was destined for training to be sold as a slave worker for whomever would buy her. Most of the buyers were from the Far East where she would be put into a factory and eventually worked to death. Most repurposed dead lasted on average for five years if maintained. They cost twenty thousand each but made up for the cost after about eighteen months on average.

  Twenty minutes later the second body was wheeled into the work area. The male was in far worse condition.

  “Eric, you look like hell,” Jake said looking down at the body. “This was a car wreck right?”

  “Yes, they hit a truck going sixty miles an hour,” Leah replied.

  “Who hit who?”

  “I think he hit them. He was the driver from what I heard. Crossed the median.”