Minute by minute, zombie by zombie, the odds tipped further to Hennison’s favor.
Heavy steps tromped from below.
“That,” Hennison said proudly, “is my newest experiment.” He opened the cooler on the workbench and took out a Red Bull.
The steps marked the passing moments with the cadence of a macabre metronome. What new monster had this fiend Hennison created? The zombies waited, as if expecting their champion.
I sidestepped across the wall to put more distance between myself and whatever it was that emerged from below.
The weighty footfalls arrived on the landing. A tall creature, half machine, half zombie, lurched into view.
A metal breastplate covered the torso. Tubing and wires curved from the chest to a metal neck. The head was a steel dome with a human face.
Gino.
Phaedra screamed his name. Her aura boiled and shot sparks of distress and horror.
A frame of pistons, metal rods, and pins surrounded each of his legs. The frame was hinged at the knee and ankle. His right arm was a long slender box fitted with gas bottles, actuators, and a slotted cylinder.
“I don’t know what’s more repulsive,” I yelled at Hennison, “you or this monster.”
“Hey, hey,” Hennison interrupted. “Monster? Don’t be so biased. It’s eye of the beholder, that sort of thing.”
“Your creature’s disgusting,” I said.
“Okay, the new Gino takes getting used to,” Hennison replied. “What’s the point of playing God if you don’t push the envelope?”
He gave Phaedra’s arm a squeeze. “Don’t worry, darling, this won’t happen to you. Gino has one job, you’ll have another.”
“As his zombie sex slave,” I said.
“And you’ll be a real hottie,” he replied. “As for Gino, looks are not important. Let me show you what he can do.”
Hennison signaled with a nod. Reginald stared at the Gino zombie.
He raised his robotic arm. The end of the arm was the slender barrel of a shotgun with an aiming laser underneath.
An actuator on the arm retracted and extended, causing the shotgun to chamber a round.
Hennison took a swig from his Red Bull. “To make life more interesting for the both of us, I reloaded the shells with silver pellets and garlic powder.”
Silver and garlic. I wouldn’t survive those wounds.
Getting out of here would be a desperate fight. One I wasn’t sure I could survive, let alone win. I had to let Hennison know the risks.
I growled at him. “No matter what happens tonight, you will die.”
He dismissed me with a wave. “I’ve unlocked the key to immortality. Slay this”-he thumped his chest-“and as long as this”-he tapped his temple-“remains fresh, I’ll be around long enough to see the sun darken to a cinder. Think of my savings. Compounded daily. I’ll be a rich man.”
“Not if I run your head through a meat grinder.”
“Fortunately I don’t have one here.”
“What do you want in trade for the girl?”
“Trade? You’re in no position to haggle. Besides, she’s too good of a prize.”
Eight zombies now faced me. More scuffed their revenant feet on the deck outside.
“Now, Mr. Gomez,” Hennison said as he finished his Red Bull. “Mr. Felix Gomez. You’ve given me the opportunity to say something I’ve dreamed of saying for a long time.”
I had no idea what this lunatic was getting at. “Save your breath because I don’t care.”
“Too bad, because I can’t wait to say it. Here it comes.” He raised a finger and thrust it at me, shouting, “Zombies. Attack!”
Gino lead the zombies in a stiff-legged march. A red laser beam quivered from under his shotgun muzzle and searched for me.
My mind raced for schemes to escape. Jump through the ceiling, break into the basement. I could get away, but what about Phaedra?
Gino faced me and that enormous shotgun barrel trained on my head. The tendons connecting his arm to the shotgun tightened. The gun fired.
I ducked. The pellets chewed the wall. Plaster dust and garlic powder rained on my skin, the garlic burning.
Phaedra winced. She cried out to me.
Hennison pulled her close. “We must be strong. Remember, this is for science.”
I scooted to the left and found myself in front of the big mirror.
Gino’s zombie eyes locked on me, metallic and yet cruel. Tendons flexed down the length of his bionic arm. The shotgun cycled a fresh round. The spent shell spun through the air and clattered to the floor.
The glass surface of the mirror felt cool against my back.
Gino halted, like a circuit breaker had popped in his bionic head. His eyes flickered in turmoil. When I moved, they remained fixed on one spot.
It wasn’t me he looked at but his reflection in the mirror.
His mouth opened and let out a long pained drawl. “Ghaaawww.”
His left hand groped at stitches across his face and at the metal chest plate. He fingered the tubing and wires. His hand moved as if searching for his treasured bling. He lowered the shotgun arm and advanced, left arm outstretched, and touched the mirror.
Hennison yelled, “Gino, what are you doing?”
Zombie Gino shuffled backward, still mesmerized by his reflection.
His expression become puzzled.
Then hurt.
Then angry.
Kill-everyone-in-the-room angry.
He raised the shotgun and blasted the mirror. Shattered glass sprayed the air.
His tendons flexed. A spent shell ejected from the shotgun and a fresh round was chambered. Gino swung around, his shotgun arm level.
I ducked.
Zombies dropped out of the line of fire.
The red laser beam swept through the dusty air and across Phaedra’s chest.
I sprang for Gino’s arm.
The shotgun went off.
Hitting Gino’s arm was like smacking a girder. It barely budged.
I tried to tackle him, but with all the metal and robotic attachments, he seemed as heavy as a forklift.
Phaedra squirmed on the floor.
I yelled her name, convinced she had taken the shot.
Hennison slumped against the workbench. His aura roiled with waves of pain. A dark blotch, big and red as a poinsettia, covered his chest.
Zombie Gino marched closer toward Hennison. Gino’s face hardened into a scowl.
I wasn’t a genius like Hennison but I knew Gino didn’t like being a zombie. Dr. Hennison hadn’t yet figured out all the angles of reanimation.
Reginald opened his lab coat and pulled out a meat cleaver. He struck Gino across the back of the neck, again and again. Sparks and milky goo sprayed from Gino. He shuddered and jerked left to right.
Zombies swarmed over him, in a frenzy of swinging weapons and clutching hands. Other zombies ripped apart the lab, scavenging pipes and lengths of wood to use as clubs.
Reginald snagged Hennison’s wrists and pulled him behind the workbench.
Phaedra lay on the floor, dazed.
I had time for one task before the zombies turned their attention from Gino to me. Either rescue Phaedra or kill Hennison.
I could return and finish him. If Phaedra died, I’d never get her back.
Phaedra’s aura burned with distress.
The zombies turned from the battered remains of Gino. They came at me, two at a time. Bus Driver and Super Cheesy led the attack. They advanced with their arms stretched out, a clumsy move I realized was to distract me from the second and more dangerous wave, four other zombies armed with sharpened metal poles.
I waited for Bus Driver and Super Cheesy to close upon me. When they reached for my arms, I swung the ax across their knees, chopping cleanly through bone. Their bodies toppled like cut saplings.