Genizyz Read online

  Monster

  Country:

  Genizyz

  Dan Decker

  Grim Archer Media

  Text Copyright © 2019 Dan Decker

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Grim Archer Media, a publishing imprint of Xander Revolutions LC

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For my family.

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  MONSTER COUNTRY SHORT STORY

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  Civilization collapsed when a plague of dinosaur-like lizards spread a virus that turned people into zombies. These lizards became known as zampys because of their close relation to the zombies.

  Parry Peters is smuggling anti-venom when he runs into a nest of zampys. He starts to think he has the situation contained when a mysterious woman almost gets him killed through her apparent inexperience.

  Everything gets worse when members of a heavily armed gang show up and try to capture the zampys.

  If you love zombie and monster stories, you’ll love this exciting adventure yarn set in a world that is quite unlike anything ever before set to paper. Click here to get your copy!

  Contents

  Title Page

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Books by Dan Decker

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek

  Prologue

  I stopped with my fingers on the door handle, hesitant to go inside the hold once again. I hated this place. I hated the smell. I hate everything it represented. I hated what it had done to people I worked with.

  But I hated most how it reminded me of failure.

  The metal was cold against my fingers as I brought up my keycard with the other hand. I had long thought we did not have adequate security but had done nothing because I wanted to preserve a final option.

  This final option.

  They will kill me. I shook my head. But if I don’t do this, who will?

  A lot had happened in just a few days. Much I did not want to think about but had been unable to get out of my mind.

  I warned her. She didn’t listen. Now look what’s happened.

  I firmed my resolve.

  This is the only way.

  A zampy cried out, a noise like a sharp bark. The monsters could not know what I was planning but we had made assumptions about them before that proved wrong so even though I knew it irrational to think they could read my mind I was not so sure. We didn’t know how they communicated with their zombie minions so I couldn’t rule out telepathy.

  The zampys could sense my presence, even though the dungeon was windowless, of that I was sure.

  These lizard monsters that resembled dinosaurs were far more intelligent than any of my co-workers supposed.

  My bag was heavy with ammunition and my knockoff Colt .45 was carefully concealed inside my jacket. Nobody had ever thought to install a metal detector, as the remaining team leader I was above suspicion and had passed the guard without question.

  The thought I would destroy my own discovery was unthinkable.

  Thank you, Sharon.

  I had planned every move and needed less than a minute to dispatch the monsters on the other side. They were behind bars so it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.

  Easier really. I have no refraction issues.

  It could all be over in a minute.

  Yet I hesitated.

  I had decided to stop this madness long ago. Each time I had tried, Sharon had foiled me or convinced me to do otherwise.

  She cannot stop me now.

  And that was part of why I was finally here. Sharon was now sequestered in a windowless padded room. She could only speak with grunts and groans, assuming she still knew what it meant to be human.

  She could no longer use her brain. While I had already designated her a zombie, the higher-ups of Genizyz were not yet ready to accept the truth that was right in front of them.

  Lurching like a dead woman walking.

  “We have invested tens of millions in this program,” Jon Sohn, Head of Research and Development had told me. “We are not going to let an unexpected tropical disease stop us now.”

  I had remained silent. He had taken my lack of response as assent.

  What he had not known—could not have known—was the planning I had been doing for the better part of six months. His words had been irrelevant by that point. My internal debate ended when Sharon had converted to a zombie.

  I should have handled this in the jungle.

  Another of the zampys barked and I recognized his call all too well.

  Wicked Rex.

  He was soon joined by the others.

  Their bark was like a dog, but louder and far more menacing than any thing I’d ever heard, save a zombie roar.

  The zampys cried in unison, making me think of prisoners chanting for freedom. Their cries sent shivers down my back.

  And who’s to say they’re not?

  Nobody had tried to understand how they communicated because we had been too busy researching their other unique properties so Genizyz could commercialize their discovery, the pillage of the natural world some might call it.

  I understood the zampys better than anybody. Sharon had started to ask her own questions right before the end.

  My hand rested on the handle for a long time with my keycard hovering above the reader. Dread rolled through me when I finally disengaged the lock and opened the door.

  The barking stopped. The zampys did not move.

  I knew I was not the dominant animal as all eyes focused on me.

  The hold was kept dark to mimic night.

  The only light came from the open door. As I slid my hand into my jacket and wrapped my fingers around the butt of my pistol, I could not help but think of the first time I had encountered these infernal lizards.

  1

  Two Years Earlier

  Sweat ringed my neck and went down to my belly button. I could not remember a time when I had ever been so covered with my own perspiration. As I pushed away the leaf of a tree I had twice learned the name of but had now also twice forgotten, I trudged down the jungle path.

  I will never do this again, I vowed. I should be in a lab. Let others collect specimens, I’ll do the analysis.

  I sighed when a fat raindrop hit my face.

  I knew what came next, as regular as a chime on a grandfather clock, or so it seemed. The first drop was followed by another and another as I shrugged into my camouflage ponch
o and pulled it over my pack. It would keep my gear dry and most of the rain would be kept from my already wet torso, but my pants were going to get drenched.

  I pulled up the plastic hood and adjusted my ballcap while putting my sunglasses into a shirt pocket. The temperature dropped ten degrees but I sweated as I had before thanks to the waterproof covering that locked in my own body heat.

  “Your rain slick is not all the way down,” Sharon said from behind, not quite but almost elbowing me to the side as she squeezed past on the narrow trail. “Adjust it or your pack will get wet.”

  “Sure,” I said, stepping back onto the path after allowing her to pass. I had long since learned it was better to give in than fight petty battles with Sharon, things went smoother when she got her way. “Thanks for letting me know.” My voice was more polite than I felt as I grabbed the back of my poncho and pulled it down. “We haven’t stopped for a couple miles and this storm is brutal.” I slapped a mosquito that was protected from the rain by my poncho sleeve. I had not intended for it to emphasize my point, but it worked out nicely. “Perhaps we should find cover and take a break.”

  “This little storm?” Sharon gave me that condescending smile I had come to loath. “It’ll be worth it. It will be worth it.” Sharon pushed on, elbowing Jen out of the way as she did while I struggled to not make an obscene gesture at her back. It was not long before she had pushed past Bill and was once again at the front of our traveling party.

  I could not fathom why I had ever agreed to come on this expedition in the first place. Originally, it had sounded like a fun opportunity when I had overheard a girl—Sandy—mention she was going.

  Earn college credit while traveling in the Amazon jungle, hoping to spark a relationship with Sandy, what was there to not like?

  Sandy and I had become acquainted but nothing had happened. I had not made a move. It was difficult to be suave when I was always covered in sweat, something I had not anticipated. The novelty of the exotic had worn off quick and I soon regretted my choice.

  There are much better ways to meet girls, I thought as I stepped over a puddle.

  A gust of wind made me shiver despite the fact I felt like I could not have been warmer. The poncho was sticky against my chest and arms.

  A man screamed, driving away all other thoughts.

  2

  The call came from up ahead and I froze to see what would happen next, but shook it off after just a second or two. Somebody needed help. I pushed past some palm tree fronds and increased my speed as I went uphill while the rain pummeled my face. When I stepped on a slick rock my boot slipped out from underneath and it was only by grabbing a nearby tree branch that I maintained my balance.

  “You know who it is?” Sandy asked from behind gasping for breath as she did. Her voice was higher than normal.

  “I thought it could be Eric.”

  I did not know him well; he was quiet and kept mostly to himself. On our last break, I had noticed he had gone ahead.

  Looking down to carefully anchor my boot on the rain slick trail, I pushed passed the slippery rock while carefully bracing my heel on top, and made it to the crest of the small hill. Max waited, looking down at the commotion, but making no move to help.

  Figures, I thought as I pushed past. The man was as lazy as he was rude and I was not surprised to see him do nothing when somebody needed help.

  I slowed because the mud on this side of the hill was thicker, but my boots had good tread and it was not long before I was down. I had yet to see anybody else from our group, but Sharon had just pushed ahead, so I figured I would soon run into her. I tried to remember who else might have been in front, but nobody came to mind.

  I broke into a run when Eric screamed again, hoping there were not any more dips in the trail.

  I shortly came around a bend and slid to a halt. Sharon was already there, bending over Eric as he lay on the ground. At first I feared he might be dead because it had been some time since I had heard him yell, but he moaned as I walked up.

  Blood dripped into a puddle that had formed around him.

  “How bad is it?” I asked as I knelt beside Sharon and examined him, water seeping in through the knees of my pants.

  “It hurts!”

  “It could have been worse,” Sharon said just as if Eric were not there, her voice detached and cold. She looked annoyed at the delay. She was hard-driving and hated when something got in the way of her plans, even when it was an emergency

  Eric’s leg had been slashed from his thigh past his knee.

  Blood covered his hands but as near as I could tell the leg wound was the only injury.

  I slung off my pack muttering about the rain as I pulled out a strip of gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

  “Cut his wound free,” I said without looking up.

  Sharon gave me a look and for a moment I wondered if she was going take issue with my order, but after only a brief hesitation she pulled out a small knife from her pocket and cut away the pant leg. I fished out my own knife from my bag and used it to cut a piece of gauze that I wadded into a ball before dousing it with rubbing alcohol. Once this was prepared, I elbowed Sharon out of the way and cleaned the wound.

  It was not as bad as it had first appeared.

  I had thought tendons had been torn and exposed, but soon discovered it was not deep. The blood and ripped pant leg made it look much worse than it actually was.

  “How bad is it?” Eric asked in between deep breaths.

  “You’re going to live.” I nodded. “You should be up and walking in no time.”

  He let out a sigh of relief.

  “This is too wet. I need rain protection.” I glanced at Sharon. “Can you take care of that?”

  She looked like she was about to argue so I was preparing a response, but she stood and held her poncho out over the two of us, grumbling as she did. The poncho was dark and the lighting was already poor, so I slipped out my headlamp, strapped it on, and turned on the light.

  By the time I had wrapped the wound with gauze and taped it up, the others had caught up. Even Max, though he stayed in back and looked bored.

  “Not a bad job,” Harold said after he examined my work. He was the designated medic. I had acted without thought, in retrospect I should have waited for him.

  I moved back to give him an opportunity to examine the wound.

  “How deep?” Harold asked.

  “Skin deep. Looks like his pants took the worst of it.”

  “I will have to take the makeshift bandage off, but that should hold until we get back to camp.” Harold looked at Eric. “How did this happen?”

  I had been so focused on dealing with the situation that the thought had not even occurred to me. Eric was pale and covered in sweat.

  He shook his head. “I dunno. It just happened. One moment I was walking along, the next there was movement in the bush and my leg was on fire.” He nodded at Sharon who still held the poncho over Eric’s wounded leg. “She was right behind me, maybe she saw more. It was gone as soon as I yelled.”

  I looked at Sharon, but she was already shaking her head. “I didn’t see anything.”

  “It was just one scratch,” I said. “Almost like somebody had a knife. If it had been a jaguar or something, there should have been more claw marks. Are you sure you did not see anything more?”

  “My leg was on fire, it was a bit distracting.” He grimaced. “It still is.”

  Harold stood. “We need to get back to camp. Frank. Jim. You two come with us.”

  I stepped back to give them room as they helped Eric up, I had been on the verge of volunteering when Harold had made his selection. I would have preferred to return with them, but resigned myself to finishing our march to the valley in our hunt for Sharon’s elusive lizard.

  3

  We all watched as Eric, Harold, Frank, and Jim returned the way we had come. Harold and Frank walked on either side of Eric while Jim brought up the rear. I wondered if Harold had been a
nnoyed that I had jumped to Eric’s aid, but if I had bothered him there was little I could do about it. I would do it again. I had limited medical training, but it was at the disposal of anybody who ever needed it.

  Sharon gave us only a moment. “Back to it everybody. Eric is going to be fine. It’s just a scratch, nothing more.”

  “Yeah, but what did that?” Max asked, looking around as if expecting to be attacked at any moment.

  Eric had not pointed out where the attack had come from so I approached the most likely place and looked for tracks but found nothing. I made a slow circuit around the spot where we found Eric and similarly saw nothing of interest.

  “Where was he attacked?” I asked.

  “No way to know now,” Sharon said in answer to Max’s question. She then looked at me. “I did not see it. I just heard him screaming… and went to his aid.”

  There had been something in her tone that made me think she had been about to say “screaming like a little boy,” but apparently, she had thought better of it.

  She left. Bill followed a moment later and others in our group did as well.

  “She is a cold one,” Sandy whispered from beside me.

  I nodded as I watched Sharon disappear into the undergrowth.

  “You should have seen her face when I found her with Eric. She was annoyed.”

  “Uh, pardon me,” Sandy said, “I did not mean for my bleeding leg to get in the way of your plans.”

  “Are you surprised?”

  Sandy shook her head.

  I dismissed the attack as a fluke thing, but I could not help wonder what had caused such a strange wound.

  We spent most days traipsing through the rich undergrowth, following trails when they existed or using machetes to make our own when they did not. We had been here for weeks without serious injury. Dehydration was our most real enemy, despite all the rain. I had soon learned it was difficult to carry all the water I needed during such excursions. I had a three-liter water bladder but was always stuffing extra water bottles in the side pockets of my overstuffed pack.