Night of the Living Trekkies (24 page)

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a reboot. Think of the human race as a long-running TV franchise. It’s very successful, but it’s tired. So you revive it by bringing in new blood and starting over.”

“And you’re the new blood?”

“No,
they
are. The miracles inside me. They were born long ago, out in the gulfs of space. And they’re everywhere, floating from star to star, looking for planets on which to take root. Now they’ve come to Earth. The zombies were their first crude attempt to adapt to our biosphere. They’re a failure. But me—us—we’re the improved version. The best of them combined with the best of me.”

“You sound like a great team,” Jim said. “A bloodthirsty, grotesque parasite—and a space alien.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You can’t imagine the vistas that have opened to me. My symbiote and I are so much more than either of us could ever be alone.”

“I can see that,” Jim said, eyeing Matt’s tentacles. “If it’s so wonderful, why didn’t they grow you a new human hand instead of . . . that?”

“Because I’m not human anymore. I’m on my way to becoming something better. The fear, the apprehension that a mundane human might feel over such a metamorphosis is gone. The symbiote took care of that.”

“I see,” Jim said. “So they’re not just adding stuff. They’re deleting things too.”

“I wouldn’t put it that crassly. The trade is more than fair.”

“Whatever you say. At least they didn’t give you one of those God-awful third eyes.”

Matt grinned viciously and pointed his new hand at Jim. The tentacles opened like a flower, revealing a red-pupiled eye at their center.

“Look at me, Jim. Look at your commodore. Respect the chain of command.”

Jim fought the urge to make eye contact. “You know,” he said, “it’s really fitting that you came as a commodore this weekend.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because all the commodores who ever tried to pull rank on Captain Kirk were total douche-bags.”

Anger flickered across Matt’s face. The distraction gave Leia, who had risen to her feet, time enough to retrieve her lirpa. She hurled it like a spear at Matt’s head.

Her aim was true. But Matt sensed the danger at the last possible moment. He lashed out with his right arm. The tentacles snagged the weapon in midflight. For a moment he stood there, the limb fully extended.

It was the only opening Jim needed. He raised the kar’takin and slammed it with all his might through Matt’s elbow, severing the alien limb, and the eye with it.

Matt fell instantly, as if whoever had been operating his game controller dropped it.
Yeah
, thought Jim, nudging the inert body with his blade to make sure it was dead.
You’re better than the zombies. But you still needed that eye, didn’t you?

A twitch of movement registered in his peripheral vision; he turned to see Matt’s severed tentacles scrambling across the floor of the parking garage like an octopus run amok. With a furious roar, Jim leapt to its side and started hacking. “That’s for Gary,” he shouted with the downswing, “and that’s for Martock, and
that’s
for T’Poc, you murderous piece of disgusting alien
shit!
”

He was still slicing the appendages into tiny, wriggling pieces when Willy pulled up in the H2. The hood was strewn with zombie guts and there appeared to be a trombone stuck in its grill.

“Nice work,” Jim told him. “Now get in the RV. We’ve got to move.”

“I’m staying with the truck,” Willy said.

“Fine. You lead the way.”

Jim hopped aboard the RV. Rayna was already up front with Leia and Sandoval. She stepped on the gas and the vehicle lurched forward. Willy was just ahead of them, mowing down the remaining Borg and clearing a route through the garage. He crashed through the attendant gate and then pushed the accelerator to the floor, rocketing up the driveway ramp that led to the street. If any zombies were loitering about on the sidewalk, he intended to plow straight through them.

Willy emerged from the garage to find the street littered with abandoned vehicles. He slammed on the brakes and spun the wheel sharply, but the speed was too much for the top-heavy vehicle. The Hummer toppled over, its momentum carrying it to the far side of the road in a shower of sparks.

Straight into the side of a propane truck.

The resulting explosion immolated every zombie within a hundred feet. Rayna shielded her eyes from the blinding light and threw the RV into reverse, backing away from the blast.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jim gasped.

“He didn’t deserve it,” Rayna said angrily. “It isn’t fair.”

“Fair and fate are two very different things,” Leia said.

Willy’s funeral pyre illuminated the
Stockard
as it changed course and sped away in the opposite direction. Once clear of the Botany Bay, the RV’s crew found the streets of downtown Houston empty. Many of the skyscrapers had gone dark, along with most of the street lamps.

At Sandoval’s direction, they avoided main highways, fearing that the largest ones would be barricaded. Instead they drove on side streets, speeding past stop signs, racing beneath meaningless traffic signals, and pummeling over the occasional zombie that wandered off the sidewalks.

The one thing they did not see were survivors. No humans heard the RV approaching. No humans fled from their hiding places to beg for a ride. No humans appeared to be left.

It wasn’t until they were outside the loop formed by Interstate 610 that they dared to get back on the highway. As they headed west, away from the city, the buildings began to shrink and eventually disappeared altogether. Soon they were on a deserted four-laner lined with dusty fields and barbed-wire fences.

For forty minutes, they sped in silence across the vacant fringes of Houston, Texas—and then, just as the first tendrils of sunlight flared on the eastern horizon, they caught sight of the highway mile marker they’d been waiting for.

“We made it,” Sandoval said. “We’re clear. Let the Air Force bomb the city all they want—we’re outside any reasonable blast radius.”

“It’s over,” Jim said to Leia.

He tried to take her into his arms, but she pushed him away.

“It’s never over,” she said. “Don’t you remember
Aliens
? Or
Terminator
? Whenever the main characters relax and the audience thinks it’s time for the closing credits, something else happens. You should know that.”

“Are you serious?” Jim asked.

Leia frowned, got up, and walked to the RV’s bathroom. She went inside and shut the door.

“Leave her alone,” Rayna said. “We’ve been through a lot. She’s been really strong so far, but maybe it’s catching up with her.”

Maybe
, Jim thought.
Or maybe now that the crisis has passed, she doesn’t want me around anymore.

Leia returned from the bathroom, walked back to the front of the RV, and sat down.

“You okay?” Rayna asked.

“No,” Leia said.

She crossed her arms and stared out the windshield.

“You want to talk?” Jim said.

“That’s pretty much the last thing I want to do. I’m pissed as hell right now, and I don’t make great conversation when I’m mad.”

“Then just sit there,” Jim said. “Sort it out while we drive. Maybe you’ll feel better by the time we reach civilization.”

A single tear escaped Leia’s right eye.

“I can’t
go
to civilization,” she said.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He started to reach for her.

“Get back!” Leia screamed. “Don’t touch me. Just stay the hell away.”

“Why?”

“Because Matt grabbed me by the throat with those tentacles of his.”

“So what?”

“So the damn things had suckers. And the suckers had hooks on them. And they cut me.”

She pulled back the collar of her costume to reveal a row of circular wounds on her neck. They were barely more than scratches.

But they were still bleeding.

“No,” Jim said.

“Yes,” Leia answered. “That son of a bitch killed me after all.”

By the time the sun cleared the horizon, the
Stockard
was deep into West Texas, heading in the general direction of San Antonio. Rayna was still behind the wheel, with Jim standing next to her. Leia rode shotgun. As the miles rolled by she grew quieter and more despondent.

Sandoval sat at the table in the RV’s kitchen area, picking at an apple.

Rayna glanced over at her cell phone, which sat on the dash. She picked it up and tried it, as she’d done approximately every five minutes since they started driving.

“I’ve got a signal!” she said.

“Call anyone, anywhere,” Jim said.

Rayna dialed her college roommate and tried to explain in the context of a three-minute phone call that she’d just survived a zombie apocalypse. Judging from Rayna’s speech patterns, Jim could tell that the roommate didn’t believe a word of it.

“Rest of the country’s fine,” Rayna said after hanging up. “They’re evacuating all of southeast Texas and the whole world is glued to CNN, but right now everyone’s calling it a massive industrial accident. They’ve put up roadblocks across half the state. We should hit one before Columbus.”

Leia winced with pain. Jim touched her shoulder. If there were roadblocks, there would be police officers. National Guard. They would be looking for infected civilians. The blood on Leia’s neck would be a dead giveaway.

“Maybe we should park somewhere for a few minutes,” Leia said. “Riding around in this thing is starting to get on my nerves.”

“I’ll look for someplace quiet,” Rayna said.

“I can feel it happening,” Leia told Jim.

“Keep fighting,” Sandoval said. “Determined resistance inhibits the progress of the invaders. Unconscious specimens that can’t fight back usually succumb in two or three hours. Conscious specimens can last much longer. The record, I believe, is fifteen hours, twenty-six minutes.”

“Shut up,” Leia said.

“Just offering my professional opinion.”

“I need some alone time,” Leia said.

“This thing has a bedroom,” Rayna said.

“Perfect.”

Leia rose and started toward the back of the RV. Then she stopped and turned.

“You coming?” she said to Jim.

“I thought you wanted . . .”

“Alone time. With you. Now come on.”

Jim and Leia walked into Matt’s bedroom and shut the door.

“Oh my God,” Leia said as she surveyed her surroundings. “The dork side was strong in this one.”

The decor in the RV’s public areas was fairly ordinary. But in the bedroom Matt had given full reign to his fanboy fetish. A blanket emblazoned with the United Federation of Planets crest covered the bed. The pillows were adorned with threadbare Star Trek pillowcases. Above everything hung a richly framed oil portrait of Lieutenant Uhura, Nurse Christine Chapel, and Yeoman Janice Rand—all lounging on a four-post bed and completely nude.

“EBay sure is going to miss that guy,” Jim said.

“A Hugh Hefner for the twenty-fourth century,” Leia said, gesturing to a full bar stocked with bottles of Maker’s Mark and Bacardi 151. She opened a humidor on the far end and showed Jim that it was full of cigars. “If I felt like celebrating, we could have one hell of a party.”

Instead, she sat down on the corner of the bed, looked up at Jim, and patted the spot beside her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he sat down.

“Like I could fall asleep. But I won’t because I know that’s what they want. It would make things easier for them.”

“I wish there was something I could do,” Jim said.

“You’re doing it now. Talk to me.”

“We should have met sooner.”

“Yes. But not that much sooner. I had way too many issues back in high school. All that crap with my parents. You wouldn’t have been impressed.”

“You should have seen
me
,” Jim said. “One hundred sixty pounds, a raging case of acne, gold chains, baggy jeans, waving my hands and calling everybody ‘dawg’ . . .”

“A hip-hop hillbilly,” Leia said.

“And an angry sci-fi nerd,” he said. “We would have made one hell of a prom picture.”

He put his arm around her waist.

“Thanks for sticking with me,” Leia whispered.

“Of course I’m sticking with you,” Jim said. “We’re going to get you better. We’ve got Harvard’s leading exobiologist onboard, and I’m much, much smarter than I look.”

“Always thinking like a Trekkie,” Leia said.

“Of course.”

“But you know I’m going to die.”

Jim winced at her language.

“I’m serious, Jim. I can feel them inside me, and I can’t hold them back much longer. When Rayna finds a place to pull over . . .”

“No—”

“I’ll get off the ship and I won’t get back on. Do you understand?”

“Absolutely not. I won’t leave you standing on the side of a highway.”

“That’s right,” Leia said. “When you leave me, I don’t want to be standing at all.”

He grasped her meaning instantly.

“I can’t do that,” Jim said.

“You have to. I don’t want to be one of those things, Jim. I’m really sorry you have to do it, but you’re the captain. You don’t have a choice.”

“I’ve got to save you,” he said.

“You already have. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d still be in that hotel room, waiting to die. Or probably dead already. You spared me that. You gave me a few hours of hope. I’m not complaining.”

Jim took her in his arms and tried to kiss her. She turned away.

“Don’t,” she said. “It’s not worth the risk of infection.”

Jim was about to disagree. About to say that kissing her would be the most worthwhile thing he could ever imagine. But just then he felt the RV make a leisurely turn, then slow to a halt. The engine shut off. A moment later they heard the door open and Rayna and Sandoval disembark.

“This is my stop,” Leia said.

Suddenly a look of surprise and excruciating pain flashed across her face.

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked.

“No . . .,” Leia groaned, pressing both hands to the sides of her head.

“Tell me—”