Zombies! Episode 9 - The Changing of the Guard
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 by Ivan Turner
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***
What has come before.
After the zombie infestation of the ER at Sisters of Charity hospital, the world changed. With the news of zombies having gone public, people panicked, fled, and waited. But nothing happened. The zombies did not multiply at an exponential rate. The governments of the world did not collapse. Civilization did not end. Slowly but surely, people returned to their homes, their jobs, and their lives. But nothing would ever be the same.
The plague that spread the zombie infection was beyond containment. Dr. Denise Luco worked day and night trying to find a cure. Lieutenant Anthony Heron and his unit of zombie fighting police officers tried to keep New York safe. But zombies began to pop up everywhere. Heron's efforts were thwarted at every turn. Eventually, he lost himself in the world of the undead and was pulled back from the brink by his friend Captain Lance Naughton and his trusted colleague Gregory Smith.
Dr. Rudolph Ludlow, a British geneticist, revealed himself as the creator of the bacterium that caused the plague. After coming to work with Dr. Luco in the United States, he was introduced to Zoe Koplowitz, their very first live zombie specimen. At that moment, Ludlow knew what had caused the plague. Though he had shut down his experiments and destroyed his samples, some of the bacterium had remained alive and dormant in his body. Ludlow's short affair with Lucy Koplowitz, Zoe's mother, had released the zombie bacteria into the world.
Though the world grew complacent with the existence of zombies, their numbers grew. People began to have their own ideas about how "alive" they were. A group called the Zombie Rights Association gained sway over time, complaining that no one was trying to help the zombies. They gathered zombies into safe houses so that they could be saved when a cure was found. When the information regarding the locations of these safe houses became known, Captain Naughton launched a simultaneous attack on all of them, intent on destroying every last zombie. But two of the operations went bad and many good people were lost. Among them was Gregory Smith.
***
They met in a pub in London about a block away from the hotel where she was staying. She came in with others from work that evening looking to relax and forget about her troubles. Troubles that just seemed to be piling up one on top of the other. Work was trouble. As a corporate liaison, she found herself traveling all over the world. She had very little time for her family, which was destroying her marriage. Her husband was a decent, if not spectacular, man but he resented her being away so much. He took it out on their daughter. He wasn't abusive per se. He would never hit her and he hardly ever yelled. But she knew that while she was overseas, he was being stingy with his attention when their daughter needed it the most. In his mind, it was only fair, seeing as how his wife was hardly ever around to do her share. This laid on her a tremendous amount of guilt that she couldn't well reconcile.
The job itself was starting to wear on her as well. No matter where she went or what executives she met, she found that the whole thing was becoming more and more mundane. At first, it had been glamorous and exciting for her and her husband both. She flew away for a few days at a time and when she returned, their excitement was immeasurable. They would devour each other both physically and emotionally. But then she'd become pregnant. They'd planned the child and the pregnancy itself was a great time. For the first few months she still worked, still flew. When she had to stop, they planned for the arrival of the baby. They built a room in their Brooklyn apartment and played with names and planned the accompanying festivities. They were a young couple with a baby on the way. It was that way until several months after their daughter arrived. Then she wanted to go back to work and he wanted to recapture the excitement of their relationship. But flying away from a family who needs you every few weeks is different than flying away from a spouse who can't wait until you get back.
He was cheating on her. She was sure of it. Their daughter spent extended hours at the daycare even though his job ended in the early afternoon. He'd been going to the gym a lot. She'd noticed the improvement in his physique over the last few months. But he wasn't doing it for her. Even when she wasn't away, she was sure he was meeting his lover. She couldn't stand it. It made her so angry and so sad and so guilty all at once. In her mind, she couldn't reconcile it. How could he do that to her? Of course, how could he not? It was her fault. She was a terrible wife and a neglectful mother. Somewhere along the way, her priorities had shifted. Unfortunately, the revelation of her mistakes hadn't come in time for her to fix her marriage. Divorce was on the horizon. All that she could do now was batten down the hatches and ride out the storm.
Her sociability had declined in recent weeks. Several of her coworkers, the people she traveled with, had commented on her demeanor. Over the past several trips, she'd been mostly reclusive. When she had bothered to socialize, and even in meetings with executives, she'd been short tempered. Her words were cut with a hard edge. So going to the pub really hadn't seemed like such a good idea. It was filled with strange people from a strange country but the strangest of all seemed to be the people at her own table and the strangest country seemed to be her own.
She caught his eye across the room. It was a week night so the pub wasn't terribly crowded but there were still a few people milling around. There was a soccer match so there was a lot of shouting and arguing. From her American perspective, it seemed as if the match had been going on for hours, even though she'd only been there for thirty minutes. Despite all of the yelling and screaming, the score still stood at zero to zero. Not much of a match.
He was older than she was. Ten years or more. His hair was still dark, but there was some grey showing around at the edges. He was handsome. Actually, he wasn't just handsome. He was mythological. The angles of his face were rounded, yet well defined, as if cut by a master craftsman. His lips were full but not fat. His eyes had this way of opening up to the world yet he could also hood them with the crest of his brow in a sultry way. When he looked at her she felt like a school girl. He was dressed in a simple pair of casual pants and a button down shirt. He wore a sports coat, but no tie. When he saw her, he raised his glass, a stein filled with some dark bitter, but he didn't take a drink.
One of her coworkers caught her looking and turned to see the man. Her coworker, a stocky young boy who had come on less than a year before, turned back to her and smiled sheepishly.
"Gonna go for it?" he asked.
She glowered at him. It would not do for her, a wife and mother, to get up and start flirting with a strange man in another country. So she went back to her drink and deliberately kept her eyes from his.
After a while, most of her colleagues agreed that it was time to return to the hotel. She looked up and saw that the man was still at the bar. He was watching the match now instead of looking at her. She supposed she had made her point.
Someone passed her the bill and a bunch of pound notes. She looked at the whole thing and asked why they were giving it to her. They told her to just go and settle the bill. She wasn't sure if it was an attempt to thrust her into the arms a of strange man or just payback for being such a bitch. Either way, there didn't seem to be a way out of it. Huffing, she gathered up the pile and went to the bar. The barman took the cash and the check and went to the register.
"Evening, young lady," said the man. Even though she knew he was there, she was startled by his voice. It was so proper yet so unassuming. It was perfect.
She nodded at him.
"Rudy Ludlow." He extended a hand. She looked at it for a moment, then took it. His skin was soft and smooth.
"Lucy," she said. "Koplowitz."
"Hmm," he said. "You've an American accent, but I can't trace the name."
She didn't know the origin of her name. Larry, her husband had said that its spelling had evolved over time. His great grandparents had come through Ellis Island before the First World War and began spreading Koplowitz's across the city. Lucy's maiden name was O'Brien.
The bartender returned with her change and she made to leave. All of her companions had vanished.
"Don't you just hate it when they do that?" His accent was smooth and he spoke slowly, making it easy to understand his words.
"I should be going after them."
"Early meeting?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
He nodded. "Are you married, Lucy?"
She was taken aback by the question. It was so straight forward from a man who was obviously trying to pick her up. She nodded.
"I was married once," he told her. "It ended badly. All pettiness and rubbish. If she'd died it would make a much better story, don't you think? I could use the sympathy to garner the company of a lovely lady such as yourself. "
"Why are you telling me this?" Lucy asked, frantic to be away from him and yet drawn in all the same.
He shrugged. "If I want to get to know you, it's only fair that I open up about myself as well."
He was presumptuous. She could tell right away that it was something he used as a way of
garnering the company of lovely ladies
. And she had to admit that it worked. All most men would have garnered at that point was a slap in the face. But this Ludlow character had a way of saying these presumptuous words that made her trust him and his intentions. And, after all, he was being honest about his intentions. He came on with a boldness that told her she was special enough to matter but not so special that he couldn't just go right back to the match if she walked out the door.
She was flattered that he found her to be lovely.
"My marriage hasn't ended yet," she told him.
"It has been my experience, Lucy, that people do not mistakenly use the word
yet.
"
She sat down and put her things on the bar.
"Can I buy you one?" he offered and she accepted.
During the rest of that night, she told him about Larry and their marriage. She loved her daughter, Zoe. She was such a sweet girl despite her disfunctional parents. She told him about her suspicions involving Larry and Rudy concurred. Larry was probably cheating on her. And she probably deserved it.
Rudy had such a direct way of speaking. It kept her completely off guard, opening her mind and her mouth at times she would rather have kept both shut. At no time during the evening did he try to touch her, nor did he suggest they take their relationship any further than they had. He did, however, ask her to meet him for dinner the following night. It was an invitation that she reluctantly accepted. It was late, but not too late, when she finally got back to her room and got into bed. She really did have an early meeting but not so early that she wouldn't be sharp for it. That night, she slept well, comfortable with her actions and her new friend.
***
During the meeting, Lucy felt very young. She approached it with many of the same qualities that had gotten her the job in the first place. Such a large number of those qualities had disappeared recently. She often wondered if her job was in danger. The one problem that did confront her during the day was the anticipation of the coming evening. She was so excited about meeting Rudy for dinner that she felt her concentration ebbing as the work day wore on. In between bouts of almost uncontrollable excitement, she warred with bouts of equally uncontrollable guilt. How could she be meeting with another man? What would Larry think? Of course, Larry was probably with his girlfriend, doing the sorts of things he would
never
ask Lucy to do. She decided not to meet Rudy that night. Then she decided she would. Of course, the reason for the indecision was that her decision had been long since made up. She enjoyed his company, was overwhelmingly attracted to him despite the years, and wasn't about to let go of even this small bit of happiness.