Zombie Destruction: Love in the Age of Zombies Book Three Page 9
So Kevin stayed faithful despite every temptation! Michelle thought. She was proud of Kevin and felt bad for doubting him. He’d declined offers some men would have accepted—twice!
Over the next few minutes, Michelle tried on Lee’s clothes. Two of the blouses were very flattering, but one was more revealing than Michelle was used to. The last one was a black blouse so sheer it was practically exhibitionistic.
“Wow, that would be so sexy without a bra!” Michelle said. “It’s nearly see-through. I’ll bet Kevin would go crazy over it!”
Michelle was tempted to only take one or two of the blouses, but Lee insisted she take everything. “Tell you what, hon,” she said, “why not wear the purple one tonight? It looks fabulous on you! I’ll put everything else in an extra handbag. You can bring the handbag back next time you come over.”
Michelle put on the purple blouse. Lee was right, it really was flattering. It was much more revealing than the blouse she had worn, but she decided to wear it anyway. It was, after all, a party.
Meanwhile, Kevin continued talking to the council members. “Part of the reason I’m interested in the house is because of the mother-in-law suite behind it,” Kevin said. “It would be perfect for our friend, Doc, who’s still in the hospital.”
“It’s fine for the three of you to move there,” one man said. “We also hear you want to volunteer for patrol duty?”
Kevin nodded. “I’d like to help out any way I can. I’ve been a fudgie for most of my life; it’s time I became a resident instead.”
The older man offered his hand and said, “Let me be the first to welcome our newest resident!” Michelle and Lee exited the house and walked across the patio, chatting away. They turned a few heads as they walked along, their low cut blouses and cleavage demanding attention. They were a perfect, sexy example of full womanhood. Lee was used to the attention and reveled in it. She said something to Michelle and the two women laughed. Lee’s laughter was like wind chimes in a Lake Michigan summer breeze, while Michelle’s was more like Tibetan bells, deeper and more resonant. She wasn’t used to showing off her breasts to anyone but Kevin, and while it made her a tad uncomfortable, Lee made it feel like good, honest fun.
Michelle spied Kevin and the two ladies strolled over. “Hi, honey!” Michelle said as she kissed Kevin’s cheek. “Get everything settled?”
Kevin was momentarily distracted by the twin sets of glory before him. He made eye contact with Michelle, but his eyes kept being drawn to the ladies’ cleavage like steel drawn to a magnet. Michelle didn’t mind him eyeing Lee’s cleavage; knowing he’d turned down an offer for more than just a view. She felt secure.
Kevin tried to limit his gaze just to Michelle’s breasts, but Lee stood right next to her, obviously enjoying his attention and the attention of the council members who were also distracted. “Uh… yeah,” he said, “they said we can move in any time. And I start going on patrol as soon as I want.”
“That’s wonderful! It’ll be great to be in a real house again!” Michelle said.
“Where did you get the blouse?” he asked. “You look fabulous! Both of you look fabulous!”
“Lee gave it to me! Do you like it?”
“It’s gorgeous!” Kevin said. Salacious thoughts occupied his mind. Michelle glanced over Kevin’s shoulder to the shore and sky and said “What a pretty view!”
“Absolutely!” Kevin agreed with a grin, eyes still flitting between Michelle’s and Lee’s breasts. “Oh! You mean the sunset?!”
“Can we go look? Will you excuse us?” she asked Lee and the councilmen. She took Kevin’s hand and led him to the landing at the top of the staircase.
The sky had faded to a plum rose except directly around the sun as it hung near the horizon. To the northeast, a few stars were barely visible. A dusty quarter moon hung high in the south, directly over Old Baldy, the dune cherished by generations of vacationers. Kevin idly wondered if Baldy felt lonely without all the visitors. And of course, he wondered how many Petoskey Stones lay on the beach between him and the towering dune. Thousands? Millions?!
Michelle stood behind him and rested her chin on his shoulder, admiring the view with her arms wrapped around his waist. Kevin was aware of her breasts and baby-bump pressing into his back. They enjoyed the vista, the breeze, and the company, for several minutes in silence. As she looked out over Lake Michigan in the purpling dusk, she said “I can see why you love this place. Sometimes it’s so beautiful it almost hurts! And,” she added, her voice a mere whisper in his ear, “I’m going to make love to you tonight.”
Kevin savored the moment. He loved being ravished and he truly loved this place. He was with the woman he loved. She was carrying his baby and giving him an erection. Their best friend was recuperating at the hospital. Kevin was officially a resident of Frankfort. He felt blessed; he had nearly everything he could want.
Rick walked up and spoke to Michelle. “Sorry to intrude, but Doctor Nunn would like to see you. He needs your opinion on something.”
“Like what?” she asked, curious.
“Some newcomers just showed up. They say they’re scientists. They said something about a cure. He wants you to hear what they have to say, see if it makes sense.”
Kevin and Michelle were stunned. Neither of them spoke for a moment. A cure! It would be a miracle! Kevin thought.
“Sure, I’ll be glad to listen! Let’s go!” Michelle said.
They joined the other guests including Doctor Nunn, Lee, the town council members, and Carolyn, who looked very pretty and happy.
One lady was answering a question as they walked up, “Jake went to get them in the car, we’ll know soon enough.” Kevin recognized her as Nadine, one of the council members.
Doctor Nunn noticed Kevin and Michelle and said, “Hey, Kevin, let me introduce you to a few folks. Kevin and his wife, Michelle, came up from Ann Arbor. They brought their sick friend, Doctor Steve. He has the flu—nothing more serious. And Michelle is a nurse practitioner!” Kevin heard positive reactions and saw nods of approval. “Kevin is a grower, a brewer and an IT guy.”
The councilwoman spoke up, “Thank God! I really need help with my laptop! I can’t get it to—”
“You have a working laptop?!” Kevin interrupted.
“Yes, with a solar charger. Jake gave it to me.”
“And you’re a nurse practitioner?” A tall, lanky man asked Michelle. “Thank God! I really need help with my rheumatism,” he said, holding his hands palm-up, his fingers curved with exaggerated mock arthritis. Everyone laughed, including Kevin and Michelle, although they felt there was an inside joke they didn’t get.
Carolyn spoke up. “Kevin could be a bum for all I care. I’ll still treat him like a hero. He brought us a nurse practitioner and a wonderful doctor!” Michelle wondered at the last comment. How does she know he’s a good doctor when he hasn’t treated anyone yet?
The Tesla pulled up and all four doors opened as Jake, Tony, and two strangers stepped out. Jake waved good-naturedly to everyone, his visage dim in the gathering dusk. Lanterns all around the patio and a fire in the fire pit gave everything a warm glow.
Jake led the strangers to the patio. They stood near the fireplace as people gathered closer.
“This kind of feels like an inquisition,” the taller, balder of the two remarked with a smile, “I hope you don’t hate scientists!”
“We love them, but only if they’re cooked right,” Jake said, eliciting a round of laughter. “How ‘bout telling them what you told me?”
“Sure,” the shorter man said. He looked to be in his fifties, with a full head of hair and a graying mustache. “My name’s John Webber. I’m an environmental scientist for the DNR. I used to work at a lab in Rowan, near Grand Rapids.”
“My name’s Eric Washington,” the taller man said. “I was a research scientist at the same lab. I may not be as smart as John, but I’m a lot better-looking!” he said with a twinkle in his eye. People laughed politely.
“One of our colleagues, Maria, believed it did have intelligence. I was skeptical, but when Doctor Zebb agreed with her—he was one of our senior research doctors—we focused our research. Not only did the fungus seemingly exhibit awareness and learning, but it evolved incredibly fast!”
“We had started a new round of experiments when the grid went down,” Eric went on. “The experiment was ruined, but we’d already had some success in limiting the growth and even preventing the spread of the fungus. Of course, that was in the lab, not in vitro.”
“So what’s this have to do with us?” Nadine asked.
“We believe the reanimation of the dead was caused by a fungal infestation. We believe we’re dealing with an organism that mimics intelligence. It’s hard to explain.”
The crowd responded with gasps and murmurs. Carolyn spoke up. “What do you mean, it mimics intelligence? Doesn’t it take intelligence to mimic intelligence?
“Good point,” Eric said. “Usually it does. But fungus is different from any species in the animal kingdom. Usual scientific standards don’t apply. We believe this fungus can adapt and evolve, which implies a certain sentience, but in a way incomprehensible to us. It appears the mycelia communicate with each other, but we don’t understand how.”
“Why do you keep saying mycelia when you were just talking about fungus?” Tony asked.
“Mycelium are like the roots of a plant. Take a cherry tree. It has roots, it has a trunk, branches and leaves. It flowers and bears cherries. The entire organism and life cycle are what make it a cherry tree. It’s similar with fungus. The entire organism is a fungus. When a fungus fruits, it’s sometimes in the form of a mushroom. The mushroom isn’t the fungus any more than a cherry is the tree. Does that make sense?”
Carolyn and Michelle nodded yes, others shook their heads in dismay.
John said, “We heard your broadcast. It says you have a working hospital with power. We need to get more data. We need lab instrumentation and supplies. We hope you can provide both.”
“What kind of instruments? What kind of data are you collecting? What’s your supposition?” Lee asked, wanting more specific information.
Before the scientists could answer, someone spoke up. “Personally, I’m very skeptical about mushrooms turning people into zombies.” A few titters could be heard.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to rule it out,” Kevin countered. He said he’d heard of zombie ants that are infected with fungus, and John nodded affirmatively.
“The zombie ant fungus, Ophiocordyceps unilateralis, is an entomopathogen, and the fungus we found is remarkably similar, although this new fungus is much more complex.
“I had a zombie aunt once,” Councilman Stan said, “It made me feel sorry for my uncle.” Several folks laughed. “Could you translate that into laymen’s terms?”
“Sorry, old habits die hard. The zombie ant fungus attacks a certain kind of ant in the rainforests. The fungus we found is similar.”
“What’s a zombie ant?” a lady asked. Kevin explained how scientists had discovered a species of ant was occasionally found with a strange fungal infection. A spore of the fungus germinates on the ant, then secretes enzymes into the ant which breaks down the ant’s biological polymers. Mycelia spread into the brain and cause the ant to behave in a way detrimental to the ant but beneficial to the fungus. “Ultimately, the ant dies from the infection, usually with its mandibles clamped onto the edge of a leaf. Spores are expelled from the ant and released into the air, and the cycle repeats itself. The fungus makes it do something it normally would never do. And it’s to the fungus’ benefit.”
“Our hypothesis,” John said while Eric nodded, “is that the zombie ant fungus, or a closely related fungus, evolved and adapted to take advantage of human hosts. We need to test our hypothesis. We need chromatographic and mass spectrometric instrumentation and consumables. We need antifungal medications, and zombies for experimentation. We need microscopes and culture supplies. If we can confirm the infection is caused by the fungus, we can begin to work on a way to stop or prevent the infection.”
Michelle asked, “You said you had success limiting the fungal spread? How?”
“We first tried a broad array antifungal spectrum. We noticed results, but they were weak. With enough experimentation and a little luck, we hope to isolate the most effective fungicides, tweak the dosage and delivery system, and halt, contain, or eliminate the disease.”
“Let’s say you’re right,” Doctor Nunn said. “Let’s say the disease is fungal in nature, which is why it didn’t respond to antiviral or antibacterial regimens. But if you’re right, and if you can narrow down the right fungicides, and if you can find an effective delivery system, would it kill the zombies? Would it prevent someone who’s been bitten from turning? Would it be an inoculant?”
“We’re not sure, but we think it would destroy the mycelia, and once the mycelia are destroyed the zombie will cease to exist. Going back to the cherry tree analogy, if we destroy the roots, we destroy the tree. In this case, the zombie body would cease to move and would begin to decompose naturally. We think that’s what would happen, but we don’t have enough data. It’s just a supposition. The fungus could be causing some kind of structural chromosomal change at the cellular level. The behavior might be an unintentional result of the fungus. It could be the fungus creates a substance which affects behavior. The substance could be to blame for the zombies. Destroying the fungus may not destroy the zombie. Just as treating the symptoms of a common cold does not cure the illness. But we won’t know until we continue our research.”
“Like food poisoning,” John went on. “The bacteria in the food doesn’t make you sick. Cooking destroys the bacteria. But it doesn’t destroy the toxins created by the bacteria. The toxins are what make you sick, not the bacteria. It’s possible reanimation isn’t caused by the fungus, but is only a side effect of the disease. If that’s the case, destroying the fungus—or preventing its infection—may prevent new zombies from being created, and it will at least give us a clear direction for research.”
Michelle nodded in agreement and looked around. “Look, I’m new here. We arrived two days ago. But, if my opinion counts, I think we should support their research. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
Carolyn agreed. “I’m with Michelle. What they say makes sense. Maybe they’re onto something.” She pointedly looked at the scientists and said, “We have most of the equipment you need. We have a mass spectrometer and chromatogram. The equipment was on loan from Michigan State.”
They discussed lab equipment, software, computers and supplies. At one point, John looked up and, noting the hand-held glasses of liquid libation, said, “I hate to be a rude guest, but what’s a scientist have to do to procure some ethanol at this party? Preferably infused with hops!”
“Or aged in charred oak barrels,” Eric added.
Lee opened her eyes wide in surprise. “Oh my gosh! I forgot my manners! What can I get you to drink?”
Over the next hour, Eric and John recounted their perilous journey from Rowan to Frankfort (they started off with five people), compared their road trip notes with Kevin and Michelle, and enjoyed their first real drink in months.
Soon Lee said, “I hate to be a downer, but it’s after midnight and a lot has to be done tomorrow.”
A few people groaned, an equal number nodded their heads. There wasn’t a person at the party who didn’t have a full day of work ahead of them. A forty-hour work week was a thing of the past, just like having weekends off. Plus, they had
to be aware of their surroundings, near and far, at all times. Vigilance is exhausting.
While there were a few exceptions, everyone in Frankfort was working for one thing: to ensure their own survival, and by doing so, to ensure the survival of Frankfort.
People said their goodbyes to each other and bit by bit dispersed to the docks. Jake transported most of the people back to Frankfort, but several had their own boats, and two families lived on houseboats. Carolyn was one of the first guests to depart. Her night wasn’t done.
Kevin and Michelle went with Jake and a handful of folks on his boat. He had to make several trips, but it was a gorgeous night for it.
By the time Jake had transported all his passengers, the sky was fully dark. The quarter moon wasn’t bright enough to interfere with the intensity of the stars, and on his last trip across the bay toward home, Jake once again was grateful to have a solar boat. He tilted his head back and engaged all his senses. The stars were brilliant and seemed to get more brilliant every night as lingering air pollution disappeared. He could hear Lake Michigan’s surf to the west. A breeze was blowing inland off the lake, and now and then it’d blow a snatch of laughter and singing from the Frankfort beach. The scent on the breeze was purely lake; it smelled of lake water, stones, sand and possibility.
Jake didn’t know much about science—although he was educated far beyond what his detractors assumed—but thought the scientists deserved the town’s support. Maybe their theory was right. Maybe the fungus was vaguely sentient, adapting and responding to a changing environment, evolving into a new kind of life.
He pulled the boat alongside the dock and secured it, then walked uphill to Lee and home. He felt more optimistic than he had in a long time.
Lee was waiting for him, enjoying a final drink topless by the embers of the fire. He walked behind her and put his hand on her shoulder, facing the fire. She could tell he was looking at her boobs; she was glad. She loved his attention far more than anyone else’s.