Read The Age of Zombies: Sergeant Jones Online
Authors: B. Rockow
Secretary Pearl stepped up to address those gathered. “My fellow advisors, the documents in your hands are all true. As you can imagine, your input and expertise will be incredibly valuable in the coming hours. We expect the arrival of the Orobu leaders by sunset. We have only that long to prepare a strategy.”
President Angus turned to his advisors and lifted his empty cocktail glass. “Good luck all,” he said. “And godspeed. We’ll reconvene in three hours.”
The advisors and cabinet members gathered their dossiers and exited the Cabinet Room solemnly. President Angus and Secretary Pearl remained. They sat together on a leather couch in an attached room.
“Are we really screwed?” President Angus asked. “Just tell me that we’re royally screwed.”
Secretary Pearl laughed. She wrapped her arm around the President’s shoulders, and pulled him in closer to her bosom. The President rested his head on her large chest. “We’re nothing if we don’t have each other,” she said. “As far as everything else? I could give a damn. It’s all lies out there, you know that. What’s the use of getting worked up about a house of cards?”
The President kissed Secretary Pearl’s pale neck. “I’ll miss your taste the most.”
Secretary Pearl nudged the President away. “Don’t get all mushy on me,” she said. “You’ve got a country, a world, to lead.”
The President straightened up and took a deep breath. “I say we give in,” he said. “They want Americans in camps, that’s what we’ll give them.”
“I don’t think we have a choice, Mr. President,” Secretary Pearl said. “The question isn’t so much what we’re going to decide.”
The President nodded. “You’re right. We’re really up against Crumzchek.”
“He’s been a thorn since you appointed him,” Secretary Pearl said. She pushed her blond bangs to the side. “And I hate to say it, but I told you so.”
“I know, I know,” President Angus said. “I saw him as a bridge, an ally to the other side. Iraq and Syria are thorns, and Crumzchek was supposed to come in and clear away the brush.”
Secretary Pearl sighed. “He’s run roughshod over the entire foreign policy agenda of this administration. His support of the Syrian rebels has turned you into stock for a big old pot of political suicide.”
“Damnit, Amy,” the President said. “It’s all water under the bridge now. Why are we still quibbling about Syria and Iraq? What we face now is Mount Everest compared to those molehills.”
Secretary Pearl brushed her hand through the President’s salt and pepper hair. “You’re right, John. I just don’t know how Crumzchek’s going to react. We can’t have him throw a tantrum when the guests arrive. He looked puzzled when I saw him reading the dossier. We know how he gets when Crumzchek’s puzzled.”
The President nuzzled closer to Secretary Pearl. “I’ll handle him,” he said. The President wrapped his arm around Secretary Pearl’s waist and pulled her closer. With his left hand he started to unbutton her blouse. “And right now I’m gonna handle you.”
The President moved in and pressed his lips against hers. Secretary Pearl let out a moan. She reached beneath her skirt and slipped off her panties. She tossed them across the room, and they landed on a mahogany desk. She moved her hand across the President’s chest, down his belly, and to his hard member.
“If only the American public knew,” the President said. “What scandal.”
“We’re so debaucherous,” Secretary Pearl said between moans. The President had his hands up her skirt, and was rubbing her soft folds. “The press would explode.”
The two started a session of lovemaking that moved from the side room back to the Cabinet Room’s main table. The President lost himself in Secretary Pearl’s body. She was beautiful and bold, yet soft at the same time. Secretary Pearl fell hard for the President the first time they met. She loved these sessions they shared in places of official business.
After they were finished, they went their separate ways for a shower. They wouldn’t see each other again until that evening, when the entire staff would reconvene for the important meeting.
Night rapidly approached, and Radoula and Boul were being ferried around Washington D.C. in a private, well-tinted limousine. They were quiet with each other. Ever since taking center stage as leaders of the Orobu race, succeeding Zoruth in his role, the twins had become tempered and slow. They were still getting used to the raw connection that they now shared with the three million Orobu around the world.
The twins had been able to manage their connection with the Orobu much better than Zoruth was ever able to do. Perhaps it was because they were twins, and thus shared the burden between them, whereas Zoruth experienced it singularly. But the twins were starting to think that there was something unique about them that set them apart from any other Orobu ruler who had reigned.
Further, the twins were aware of a greater presence now. A force that wasn’t of this world. They had always known that the origins of the Orobu lay deep in the mists of time. But the stories that they had heard since their youth about the genesis of the Orobu were shrouded in mystery: metaphors about the worms, about bright stars, about winged serpents. They never really knew where the Orobu had come from, or why they were here.
Now that they had absorbed the power of Zoruth, they felt an intimate connection to a world they had never seen or known. Radoula described it as a giant planet, much like earth, where large reptiles scoured the land. Boul said that he felt the planet as a throb in the sky. Its presence was so strong that every time his heart beat, he could feel the winds move and the waves crash on that distant planet.
The limousine delivered the twins to the White House just as the sun was about to set. A team of secret service ushered the twins into the White House, ensuring that no eyes or cameras could see them enter. Once inside, the twins looked at each other with accomplishment. The fate of the world was in their hands now. They were inside the world’s most prestigious center of power, where decisions could be made and carried out with global impact. The Orobu no longer were delegates of the underbelly, feeding off human corruption and greed, profiting off war and usury. Rather, they were bastions of an emerging power that would forever alter the landscape of civilization.
Secretary Pearl was the first to greet the twins. Her top concern was how well the guests were welcomed. She took the initiative by waiving them into the Cabinet Room. She was the world’s most important diplomat after all.
“Cabinet of the President of the United States,” Secretary Pearl said. “Secretaries, Czars, and Senior Advisors, Generals and staff, I present to you Radoula and Boul, leaders of the Orobu.”
The twins stepped into the hushed room. The advisors were stunned at how beautiful, strong, and elegant the twins looked. They were ancient, but looked young. Their dress was traditional and they were ceremoniously decorated. They dressed in robes of silk inlaid with gold, jewels, and bone. Their hair was pulled up and twisted into a top knot. They walked gracefully, keeping their head held high, commanding the respect of the singular most powerful group of people in the world. That is, the most powerful group up until now. Nobody knew the power that these giants possessed.
The President stood up and walked across the room. He stopped before the female giant and extended his hand for a shake. He felt awestruck by how massive these beings really were. He was told that they were eight feet tall, and they were. But that number didn’t really compute until this moment. They were behemoths. Their presence, although calm and concerted, overwhelmed the President.
Radoula declined the handshake. “It is not our custom to shake hands with humans,” she said. “It is not meant as an offense, President Angus.”
The President felt a twinge of rejection. It was a silly feeling in light of the enterprise that lay before him. “That’s fine,” he said. “Customs are customs. I have gathered my cabinet and trusted advisors in this room so that we may negotiate a solution that will suit both our objectives.”
The giant twins looked at each other and smiled. “The conditions that will be finalized by the end of this meeting will be wholly on our terms,” Boul said. “But we will entertain your requests, of course. An Orobu shows respect where respect is due. You have welcomed us into a prestigious space. We know the honor of being in such a hallowed chamber as this one.”
Don Crumzchek, Secretary of Defense, was a bloated, red-faced man who stood just a hair under six foot six inches. He rose from his seat hastily. He lit up a cigar and folded his hands in a knot, tucking them behind his back. He paced away from the giants. “The United States of America is a proud, strong nation. As the Secretary of Defense, I am tasked by our mighty Constitution to defend this nation from all enemies foreign and domestic. I will offer that as a prelude to this meeting.”
“I have not come to disappoint you,” Boul said. “You are a tenacious man. I can see through you. But I must give you warning. If your people attempt resistance, especially by force, then the Orobu will not hold back in the wrath that we unleash upon you. This is not a threat. We come today seeking mutual aid. Cooperation. Shared strategies.” Boul stood perfectly still with a serene look of confidence plastered across his face. He was incredibly beautiful, with a face smooth as porcelain, his hair a fiery tuft atop his head. But he lacked nothing in the areas of conviction and strength. “We have not come to provoke, or to be provoked.”
“Maybe we can reach a compromise,” Secretary Pearl said. “As I see it, there are many solutions to your demands. That’s how most in this room see it as well. We can work together on them. So that both races may benefit.”
Radoula closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and reopened them. She was exercising a great deal of patience with these humans. Little did they know of her true power. “It’s almost beautiful to hear the desperation in your words, Secretary Pearl. They remind me of a speech that a great queen of your people once spoke long, long ago. She is forgotten now, but she was of a people that you would call Amazons. I remember the scene so vividly now. After her triumphant speech, her entire kingdom fell to her enemy. Her daughters and sons were raped and killed. So much bloodshed. So much sorrow. Such a tragic moment in your history. Like yourself, the queen only wanted compromise. She wanted to make a deal. But hot heads were stirred and kicked up like coals of a blazing fire. Hot heads like this man here.” She bowed to Secretary Crumzchek.
Secretary Pearl wasn’t used to the level of condescension that the zombie had just given her. But she was in no position to defend herself. Besides, Secretary Pearl knew that Radoula was right. Secretary Crumzchek was not here for a solution. All Secretary Pearl could do was swallow her pride. “Your memory is long,” Secretary Pearl said. “I can’t imagine the things that you must’ve seen so long ago.”
“We did not come here for nostalgia,” Boul said. “And we certainly did not come to negotiate on our demands. We are blessing you with the favor of our presence, not out of weakness, but out of respect. We would like this transition to go as smooth as possible for your people. We do not want to see the complete destruction of your civilization, your biology, or your planet.”
“With that being said,” Radoula said. “Let us begin.”
“We have several questions,” President Angus said. The gravity of this situation brought out the best in President Angus, who had a horrible approval rating with the public. He saw this as an opportunity to gain the full prestige that his office could offer. “Maybe if you verbalized the Orobu’s demands, we could offer more comprehensive solutions.”
“That is fair,” Boul said. “The first order of business will be to feed our race. There are 63,423 of us walking among humans today. We have been among your race for several millennia, living side by side with you, dwelling in the shadows, subsisting off darkness. And human bodies, of course.”
“It all sounds so eerie,” Secretary Crumzchek said. “So spooky. So scary, like a cart full of bullshit. You expect us to believe that 60,000 giant zombies have been wandering around the earth for millennia, and nobody’s noticed?”
The giants allowed a few moments to pass before responding to the Secretary of Defense. This bloated warmonger was an annoyance that they would just as soon obliterate than converse with. Boul raised his hand to Crumzchek. “You’d be surprised by the company we keep,” he said. “Some of the most vile, wealthiest businessmen in the world call us friend.”
“Screw your company.”
“Crumzchek, we’ve had enough,” President Angus said. He stepped between the Secretary of Defense and Boul. Crumzchek wasn’t much of a threat, but the President wanted to quell any tensions before they flared. The President looked to the giants. “Continue.”
“As you know, we need bodies,” Radoula said. “We will need a steady supply of human bodies. There are three million of the Orobu race on this planet. They are buried beneath the Ural mountain range. They are set to awaken in less than two weeks. When they do, hey will be famished. Words can’t do justice to the depraved hunger they will possess on that day. I warn you now. It would infinitely favor your civilization to cooperate by supplying us human bodies.”
“With that, we expect that you will provide us with a head count of three million to feed their hunger.” Boul scanned the room. Advisors were busy writing out the details of the demands, along with ideas of how to facilitate them. “I would think that you already have a shortlist prepared for this sacrifice.”