Zombie D.O.A. (13 page)

I figured it was a good time to change the subject. “So what’s the deal with the power?” I asked. “
I t
hought it was down. “

“It is. I got a couple of solar panels on the roof, some gas canisters and some green bio-fuel a buddy of mine at MIT ships me. I tell you, this stuff could solve half our energy problems within the next few years. Problem is, too many people making too much money from good ol’ fossil fuels.”

He was rustling up some breakfast as he spoke. “So what are you?
” I asked.
“
Some kind of survivalist?”

He laughed at that, “Hell no, just a guy getting by. I was a boy scout though.”

“Seriously though, are you really an actor?”

“Oh yeah. Eggs over easy good for you?”

“Sure. So would I have seen you in anything
?”

“That depends. You up to speed on eighties TV shows.”

“Not really, no.”

“You want to pour som
e coffee. There’s some OJ
in the fridge too if you want.”

When I returned with the coffee and orange juice, Joe said. “Well, General Hospital you already know about? You ever heard of a show called TJ Hooker?”

“You were in that?”

“Two episodes. In the one I played the part of Thug number 3, in the other I was a hot dog stand guy. I even had a line in that one. – that’s the guy, officer.”

Joe dished up some eggs and a couple of links and we sat down to eat.

“After that
”
he continue
d
,
“
I did a
horror movie called “Dead City” about,
get this, a zombie apocalypse on Staten Island
. Then, a
Vietnam movie, “Bad Marine.”

“I never heard of that one.”

“You and everyone in America outside the cast and crew. Did okay though, straight to video. Which is probably why
they made Bad Marine two through five.
”

“That where you learnt how to shoot?”

“No, that came later.”

We ate in silence for a while then Joe said, “We got us enough fuel for a week or so, food for longer, but we really need to get out of here. Today if possible.”

“Why? Surely, we’re safe here. Can’t we just wait it out until…”

“Until what? The
cavalry ain’t coming, Chris.”

“You know this how?”

“I know cause I know.”

“Bad Marine, right?

“
Actually, that was from
Dead City.”

“So you want to let me in on what it is you….”

“You think this is an accident
?
” He said suddenly.
“
You think this is some fluke of nature, some mystery virus turning people into homicidal maniacs? This is no accident my friend?”

“What are you saying?”

“You can only fuck with mother nature so many times before the old bitch turns round and knees you in the balls. We been messing with shit that should have been left well alone.”

“You saying this was man-made?”

“Oh yeah, isn’t it always?”

“At the risk of repeating myself, you know this how?”

“Let’s just say I
have
some low friends in low places?”

“Hollywood?”

He laughed then, a bitter laugh, “Yeah, there too.”

Joe fel
l silent
,
but I wasn’t letting him off the hook again.

“S
o what’s the deal, Joe? Who
are you exactly?”

He looked at me as though trying to decide if he could trust me, then he said, “If this was a movie, I’d probably say I was a contractor or a facilitator or some bullshit. Truth is, I’m a hitman.”

For a brief moment, I thought he was shitting with me, but the look in his face told me he wasn’t.

I exhaled loudly and that got him laughing again. “A bit much to take in, isn’t it?
”

“
How the hell do you go from being an actor to being a …hitman?
”
It sounded so Hollywood, that I felt embarrassed saying it.

“For me it was pretty much a natural career progression. By the time I finished Bad Marine 5, I was pretty much fed up with playing bad roles in crappy movies. A couple of weeks before I had been doing some research on a weapon I needed to use. I was reading this military magazine when I came across this ad for security staff in Sierra Leone. The money was good, more than I was making doing Z-movie
s, so I figured, why not
. I applied and b
asically bullshitted my way in.

“
When we got to Africa, I quickly figured out this was no security job, this was helping one despot overthrow another using maximum force. I’d never even fired a real weapon
up to
that
point, but l
et me tell
you
, you learn real quick when you’ve got 10 year olds shooting at you with AK 47’s. Somehow I managed to
survive, don’t ask me how
,
and
in time I realized I had a real knack for the work.
You want some more coffee?
”

“I’m good.”

Joe poured himself a cup, took a sip. “Shit, cold.” he said. Where was I?”

“Sierra Leone,” I said.

“Right, Sierra Leone, and after that, Liberia, some time protecting pipe lines in Nigeria, Ivory Coast, Somalia. Man
,
you think it’s bad out there you want to try Mogadishu on a Saturday night.”

He sipped from his coffee, grimaced. “I spent nine years in Africa all told, took a piece of shrapnel in my leg and a machete
in my right shoulder
. I could have sta
yed on too, but I’d
had enough, so I came back s
tateside.

“
I was at a loose end, trying to figure my next move when a f
eller I knew, kind of a recruiter
,
got in touch and asked if I was interested in some work.
This low-life drug dealer had gotten this
senator’s 15-year-old daughter
hooked on coke and had her turning tricks for his friends to pay for her habit. T
he
y wanted the
guy disappeared. That was my in. I’ve had steady work ever since.
”

I exhaled hard again, and Joe took my meaning, “Some story, huh.”

I agreed that it was, “So what about you, Chris Collins? How’d you become a boxer?

I ignored the question.  “You said something earlier about messing with things that were best left alone? What did you mean by that?
”

Joe sat silent for a moment, staring into his coffee
mug,
then he said. “Couple of months ago, a contract go
es out on
this
runaway
biologist
. Pretty much a midnight run, the guy’s not cut out to be a fugitive, he’s making calls to his mother and his kids, and even using his own credit card
s
. 

“
They could have given the gig to some street thug, but they don’t, they give it to Marvin and Coburn.
And not just one or the other, both of them.”

“Who are
Marvin and Coburn?”

“No one
really knows. The
se are just names they go by in the industry, but the point is
these guys are big hitters, they don’t fuck around with runaway
geeks
. Heads of State, military dictators, Columbian drug lords, that’s more their speed.”

“So Marvin and Coburn kill the
scienti
st
.”

“Oh yeah, the guy meets with a nasty accident in the bathtub a
nd that should be the end of it. B
ut here’s the thing, turns out the biologist was working on some top secret government project, and when his co-workers get wind of his untimely demise, four of them
also make tracks. So the call goes out…
”

“
They called y
ou?”

“
Not me. But I know some of the fellers who got called
.”

“What about Marvin and Coburn?”

“Dead.”

“What am I missing here?”

“Maybe nothing. But here’s what I’m thinking.
Four scientists on the run from a secret government facility, four scientist
s
who know they’re as dead as their former colleague. What’s to stop them taking something out of that lab with them, some kind of insurance policy? And what’s to stop their little insurance policy from turning out to be more of a death benefit?
”

Joe had been keeping a
n
eye on the CCTV screens as we spoke, while I had my back to them. Now his eyes widened and he half rose from his chair.

“Holy shit!” h
e said.

“What is it?”

“Your friend Chavez just rolled into the street on top of an Abrams tank.”

I swung round in my chair and looked up
at the
TV screen
s
. There was Chavez, in his long leather coat and sh
ades, standing atop the
monstrous machine. He had his one hand hooked around a machine gun mounted on the turret and in
the
other he held a bull
horn, which he now lifted
to his lips.

“He starts letting loose with that thing, we better be ready to roll,” Joe said, already
on
the move.

I stood watching the TV screen, where Chavez still had the megaphone
to his lips, obviously making some pronouncement to the remaining citizens of James Street. Now he was pointing the megaphone downward as though speaking to someone inside the tank.