Kill Them Dead 1 (Zombie Thriller Series)

  “Okay guys, listen up!” David made his way to the back of the craft and ensured that he had everyone’s full and undivided attention. “We have radio silence with Orion. That means we’re going to have to set her down manually.”

  Everyone groaned.

  “Manually?” a frail Chinese man with a video camera clutched tightly in his hands asked from the furthest bunk bed. He leaned forward so that David could see him from behind Luke’s huge frame. “Erm…What does that mean?”

  David studied the man, the one guy that was not part of his team. He didn’t particularly like Noah Lee the first time he laid eyes on him. Noah arrived two weeks ago with a camera and the story that he was commissioned by a major television network to shoot a documentary about asteroid mining and life on the space station. No one wanted him to tag along, but the command came all the way from the top, so they didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. “It means that we’re in for one helluva bumpy ride, Dorothy,” David said, “so you better buckle up, okay?”

  Noah nodded nervously and replaced the camera’s battery with a fully charged one. He pressed a button and focused it on David. “Do these radio interferences occur frequently?” he asked.

  David took his helmet from his bunk bed and pulled it over his head. He then raised the visor and latched the base of the helmet to his suit. “You better get one of these on,” he said, “or this will be the last dock you’ll ever experience.”

  Noah shut the preview panel and placed the camera beside him. He then fumbled with his helmet as David returned to the cockpit.

  “Here,” David said and handed Steven his helmet. “Just in case.”

  “Thanks man,” Steven said and clipped on his helmet. “Let’s get this over with.”

  David sat down and buckled himself in. He flipped a switch and darkness engulfed Photon-II. “Everyone okay back there?”

  The nine passengers in the bunk section all confirmed in unison.

  “Here we go,” Steven said, and as he gently pushed on the throttle lever, the mining vessel began its approach to dock with Orion Space Station.

  “She looks like a ghost ship,” David said and it only occurred to him as he breathed the words that the reason he thought so was because where there were always lights shining through the windows on the various floors, now there was only darkness. Only the outside hull lights flickered on and off, and David realized that the lack of lights had subconsciously added to his growing concern that something was wrong.

  * * *

  Steven accelerated and aligned the ship with the docking bay entrance. An electromagnetic force field protected the contents of the docking bay from the eternal vacuum of space, and it was this force field that Steven was most afraid of. On an approved dock, those in the control tower would lower the frequency of the field to such a degree that the ship could pass through it unhindered, but now it operated on full power. The field was still programmed to allow the mining vessel to pass through, but only if certain conditions were met. One slight miscalculation or a nervous twitch of the hand and the crew wouldn’t even realize that they were dead by the time the ship exploded.

  “Easy does it,” David said when he thought that they were coming in too fast. The timing and speed would have to be perfect to do this right. Too fast, and they’d slam into the force field as if it was made of concrete. Too slow, and the vessel would be torn apart by the vibrations of the field’s magnetic currents.

  Steven eased off the throttle and double checked the numbers on his heads-up-display. “This is it,” he said as the cockpit began shaking lightly. It was a gentle tremor compared to what he knew would come next.

  David thought about his wife, Beverly, and 15-year-old daughter, Amy, on board the Orion and for a split second wondered if they were safe. He had bigger concerns right now and forced himself to suppress the worry about his family until after they had successfully docked.

  Warning: Unauthorized Bay Entry!

  “Shut up!” Steven said and flipped a switch.

  The Photon-II vibrated and shook more intensely as it approached the docking bay. From the outside, it seemed as if the nose of the ship pierced the force field quite smoothly, but on the inside, everyone shook and bounced around in their seats, their safety harnesses the only reason that they did not all mash against one another.

  “We’re coming in too slow,” David shouted above the noise. “You have to give it more thrust!”

  “I know what I’m doing!” Steven snapped back, but none-the-less gave the ship more thrust and pulled back on the control stick to try and lift the nose slightly higher.

  The ship rattled and shook even more. Somewhere at the back, Jim recited the Hail Mary over and over.

  The force field swallowed half the ship.

  The shaking intensified to the point where it felt like the ship was being shred to pieces, like wet toilet paper.

  “Pull up, you sunnuvabitch!” Steven shouted and pulled back harder.

  Everyone inside clenched their eyes shut. Some prayed. Others tried to focus their thoughts on memories of happier times.

  One of the wings strained and started to tear slightly along one side.

  Emergency lights flashed.

  Warning sirens flared.

  The force field swallowed the last bit of the mining craft.

  Steven lowered the landing gear and sparks shot into all directions as metal scraped on metal. The pilot then pushed forward on the control stick and decreased the thrust completely.

  More sparks.

  The slit in the wing tore wider.

  Finally, the craft came to a complete stand-still and hissed.

  All eleven passengers on board breathed out in unison.

  No one said a word for what felt like a really long time. Eventually David fumbled with his buckle and—with unresponsive fingers—managed to unclip it. He stood up and allowed a few seconds for the strength to return to his legs. “Well done,” he said and slapped Steven on the shoulder. “Now let’s get the hell off this thing.”

  * * *

  “Sir, I think you had better come see this.”

  “What is it, Jim?” David asked, but he realized what the answer was before Jim said it out loud.

  “It’s the Photon-I, sir.”

  Steven walked up to the ship. “It’s still docked,” he said. “But why? Where is everybody?”

  David looked up at the control tower. It was empty. No one stood at the huge glass window, watching or waving at them. No one rushed to their aid. “Jim, you and Duanne go check out the tower,” he said. “Lucky, I need you to help me and Jason with these doors.”

  The huge man-mountain stepped forward from the group. He was easily the embodiment of four men. “Okay,” Luke’s bass voice vibrated through the headgear speakers. “I’m on it.” He walked up to the doors, took a deep breath and then slipped his fingers between the sealing rubbers of the door. He heaved and slowly pulled the doors apart.

  David and Jason rushed to Luke’s side and pulled with all their might. The doors finally opened to the point where they locked into place. The two men entered the mining vessel and activated their shoulder-mounted flashlights.

  “Empty,” Jason stated the obvious.

  “Yeah, but why?”

  “Beats me. Guess we missed a memo or something?”

  The two left the ship and a few minutes later Jim and Duanne returned from their scouting mission to the control tower. “There wasn’t anyone there,” Jim said. But we checked and the airlock’s secure. He and Duanne both unclipped and removed their helmets to accentuate the statement and the others followed suit.

  “Okay,” David said. “So the Photon-I never took off and the control tower’s empty. I think it’s safe to assume that there’s more to this than a mere communication’s disruption.”

  The men agreed.

  “Now what?” Steven asked.

  “I suggest that we all head on over to the food court. That’s where everyone w
ould assemble when something important is going down.”

  “I disagree,” Jason said and took a few steps towards David. He pointed at a door. “I think we should check out the armory first,” he said. “If anyone knows what’s going on around here, it would be the guys up there.”

  David didn’t care about finding out what was going on. He was more concerned about getting to his wife and daughter. Once he knew that they were safe and with him, they could go about figuring out the rest. Beverly probably knew what went down anyways and would bring him and his team up to speed when they found them. “Okay,” he said. Those with family and loved ones are welcome to join me,” he said. “The rest should go with Jason.”

  Steven, Jim, Duanne, Robert and Luke gathered around David, while Charlie and Santa sided with Jason.

  “And you?” David asked the documentary maker.

  “I…I’ll go to the armory,” Noah said and joined the other three.

  David nodded. “We’ll rendezvous with you at the food court in about an hour, okay?” he said.

  “Affirmative,” Jason said and headed towards the armory with his three companions.

  “All right, guys,” David said to those still with him. “Let’s go find our people.”

  Jason Clark

  The moment they met seven months ago, Jason Clark knew he and David Taylor had only one thing in common: both were driven by ambition. David’s ambition was simple; the care and prosperity for his family.

  Neither something Jason had, nor anything that he particularly desired. Since childhood he learned to depend only on himself, and adding strangers or blood to the mix always seemed silly and burdensome—the very thing a man like David Taylor would do.

  Ironically Jason had many opportunities to settle down and though his sexual conquest was something to brag about, he loved none of the beauties that shared his bed.

  For Jason, love was the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow: unreachable and totally make-believe, the chasing of fairytales that collided head-on with his own ambition: a duty to something much bigger than himself.

  The continuous, repeated flicker of red emergency lights brought him back to reality. Jason forced himself to focus on the situation at hand and even though he was no stranger to unusual situations, the sense that something significant was up—or went down—sprung from deep inside. He could not shake the feeling. For him and the rest of the people that called the cold space station home, Orion was one of the most secure facilities ever developed and operated within a framework of unbendable rules and strict protocol. The mere fact that emergency lights led their way, their unauthorized docking, and what seemed a deserted space station, was before this moment unthinkable. Even for him.

  “So who was the idiot that turned down the heat?” one of Jason’s three companions, Charlie Lecky asked. The medium-height man looked much older than his age of twenty, with deep wrinkles planted on a round black-skinned face, some concealed with a full, untrimmed beard. “Yo, boss, what ya think is up man?” he continued before humming a low pitched version of Amazing Grace.

  Irritated by the level of unnecessary noise, Jason’s mind began counting subconsciously a feat that took months to program and right on the count of three, he heard the predictable, “Yeah what’s up boss-man?” from Charlie’s best friend and fellow idiot, Nicolas Saint Clause. In Jason’s opinion his name meant nothing, but for the rest of the world it was a cruel joke from deranged parents. Add to it a pear-shaped, overweight body and ash blonde hair you cannot help but have a chuckle at the twenty-two-year-old’s predicament. It came as no surprise that he held the nickname Santa and the two friends were on board the Orion for two reasons: adventure and a good paycheck. Not many vocations allowed twenty-something men without any formal tertiary training the opportunity to visit outer space, let alone mine asteroids. In fact, none did and the only reason that they were part of the team was because they were family of people with loads of financial clout.

  “Nothing, be quiet and keep your eyes open,” Jason answered and continued to scan the corridor for any sign of activity. Besides the emergency lights, everything else was bathed in darkness and formed strange silhouettes in a disco of red and black. But it was the silence, apart from the men’s babbling, that struck him the most. It was impossible to play hide and seek with more than a thousand people without hearing a sneeze from some snot-nosed kid, not to mention inevitable conversations during an emergency drill.

  Bam!

  Everyone flinched when the noise from behind echoed down the metallic hall. Jason instinctively hunched down and reached for his ankle, but in the motion he saw the origin of the unexpected sound.

  “Come on dude!” Santa shouted and turned around in anger “Hold on to that thing, will ’ya!”

  “Yeah dude! Not cool!” added Charlie. “Again, boss, why are we babysitting the Chink?”

  Noah Lee was already on all fours, fumbling to regain the fallen battery pack, only to drop it a second time. Thankfully the sound travelled with fewer decibels than before, but it did not dampen the anger of the two friends.

  “Do you want me to punch your lights out?” Santa said and raised his fists into a boxing position. “Really just say the word...Charlie, hold me back.”

  “Sorry,” Noah said and regained his composure. The root of the frustration was deeper than a fallen battery pack and the miners had to endure the short, thin Chinese-American, his white light, lenses and crooked smile for long enough. Most of the base felt it was time for the documentary crew to take a bird back home.

  Although Jason’s opinions differed from the rest most of the time, on that one matter they agreed. Why on earth they were stuck with him was beyond reason, but David Taylor decided that he needed more hands for the control room scouting mission, that he needed Noah Lee. If it was up to him, there would be no one with him. He simply worked better alone.

  Jason cursed at the thought of David, shook his head back to reality and continued towards the elevator.

  “Where does the elevator lead to?” Noah asked in an obvious attempt to force the battery incident out of his companion’s minds.

  “Well, Bruce…” Santa said with a smirk.

  “My name is Noah.”

  “And is your surname by any chance Lee?”

  “Yes.”

  Santa rolled his eyes and gave a dramatic sigh. “Well then like I said, Bruce, the elevator goes up and down…”

  “Just like your girlfriend,” Charlie interrupted and chuckled at his own joke.

  “Hey, watch it dude…” Santa said.

  “I am just saying, bro; with an ass like that...hhhmmmm…”

  Through it all Jason barley managed to control the urge to slap both men. About two hundred feet just left of the final bend, he saw the shadow frame of the elevator. In that area the emergency light was dead and left a circle of darkness.

  “Let’s go,” he said and picked up the pace. Something was seriously wrong and he felt it chewing away at his stomach. Every sense was on the highest alert, and every visual was processed deep into his subconscious. He wanted to shake the feeling and arm himself with something powerful, and for that they needed to get to the control room, preferably sooner rather than later.

  They made swift progress towards the elevator and the light from their shoulder torches drove back most of the darkness around the elevator. Pitch black still engulfed most of the area, but even from a distance it was clear that the elevator wouldn’t take them anywhere. Small sparks sprinkled out of open wires where the operating control panel was supposed to be. When they finally arrived it took him one glance to determine the cause. A bullet was lodged where the up button used to be.

  “What the hell happened here?” Charlie asked.

  “Can’t you see it’s a bullet?” Santa said, his voice dry. “And that’s blood!” He couldn’t contain the shriek that escaped from his lips.

  “Whoa! No, no, no!’ Charlie said, almost as frantic as Santa. “I did not sig
n up for this!”

  Jason did not waste time to explain. The answer was obvious for all to see and spattered across the broken elevator. Instead he glanced and locked the image into his mind. He memorized seven bullet holes; two separate blood spatters and one long bear-like claw scratch that stretched vertically across the entire length of the elevator door.

  “Let’s move, girls,” Jason Clark said and hurried off.

  “Boss, where are we going?” Santa asked.

  “Taking the stairs,” he answered and opened the door to the staircase.

  David Taylor

  Although there were no outright signs of any danger, David and the rest moved silently and carefully in single file down the darkened passageways. The occasional red light that flashed around in circles played with their shadows, stretching them and then crunching them flat every other second. David motioned with his hands and everyone clicked on their shoulder lights.

  Steven quickened his pace in order to catch up to David. “So where is everyone?” he asked.

  David shrugged and looked down the length of the hallway which now appeared like the throat of a huge monster, swallowing them into the depths of oblivion. “I suspect that they might all be assembled in one place. It depends on the nature of the emergency, and that’s if there even is one. I personally think it’s an evacuation drill and nothing more.”

  “You think so?” Steven asked.

  David nodded. “A few days before we took off, Captain Hendricks mentioned something about running a refresher drill. I think that’s what this is.”