The Sumerian Undead

By David Johanek

Prologue--Iraq--2004--Fall

***************************

Corporal Alvarez rammed another two hundred round ammunition belt into the breech of his M-249 squad automatic weapon. "Fuck it, Sarge, we should'a just kept the gold for ourselves instead of callin' it in."

"Yeah, no shit," Private Baker said. "Or maybe your fat ass shouldn't have fallin' in that hole."

"Both of you, keep your holes shut," Sergeant Axler commanded. "We can't hold here. I don't know who these guys are, but they're not insurgents. Black uniforms, black, unmarked Bradleys, Humvees, and that bushy-bearded fucker wearing the turban."

Axler surveyed the kill zone through his binoculars. The bodies of at least thirty attackers mixed with the seven dead from his squad. Only he and the two others remained, surrounded by at least fifty more enemies. They'd never be able to withstand another assault. At least the attackers hadn't fired since his men took position in the ruins atop the hill. Why? What was so important about this place?

When their patrol checked the ruins for an insurgent weapon cache, Alvarez fell through the floor, landing amidst golden artifacts, jewels, and freaky little statues of people with big blue eyes. Axler thought it was looted shit from the Baghdad Museum.

"I didn't even think this looked like a real hill," Baker said.

"Alvarez. How far back did that tunnel go?"

"Pretty far, and steep. Not so much back, but down."

"Maybe it's a tomb," Baker said. "The hill could be one of those old ziggurat things."

"Well, Baker, you're gonna find out. Get down there and check for an exit."

"Fuck that, Sarge. I'm not goin' down there."

"We should all go," Alvarez said. "They've got TOW missile launchers on those Humvees, all they've got to do is blow us off this hill. At least we'd have some cover until reinforcements get here."

Baker shook his head. "I've got a bad feeling about that hole. It's like somebody's down there, callin' my name. I'm not goin'. I'll take my chances here."

Baker said what Axler felt too. A voice beckoned to him soft, feminine, and seductive. "It's suicide for all of us to go anyway. They'd just toss in some grenades."

"Well, Sarge, if Baker's not going. I'm the best on the SAW. I'll stay too."

"You guy's are my responsibility. I hate to leave you, but I can't argue with your logic. I'll check things out and be back. Here's my M-4 and extra mags, you'll need it more than I do if they attack while I'm gone."

Axler drew his M-9 pistol and dropped into the hole. He switched on his flashlight and descended into the steep tunnel.

The steps were narrow, but sharp cornered. These stairs were either fairly new or not often used. The stairs ended in an open chamber. The unmarked walls were rough-hewn, if this was a tomb, it wasn't a very elaborate one. Why all the treasure at the entrance and nothing down here?

"Axler, over here, behind the wall, rescue me. Save me from my prison."

The voice again, only not in his head, it seemed to whisper about the chamber, drawing him to the far wall.

A hammer and chisel lay against the wall, antique, but not ancient. They looked like tools his grandpa used to collect from the 1800's. On the wall, behind the tools was a rectangular depression, an outlined doorway. He shined his flashlight upon carven words etched in several languages, Arabic, French, German, Russian, languages he didn't recognize, and English.

He read the writing. "Take the gold and treasures above, enough to live like a king. Leave this door closed. Do not enter. Only death awaits. Beware of Semiramis, who waits within, undead."

Axler pushed. He didn’t have any choice if he and his men hoped to survive. It was like trying to shove a solid wall. He punched, kicked, pounded, but it would not budge. Leaning to rest, the door spun open behind him. He dropped backward, into another room. A large metal box, wrapped with chains, lie in the room’s center.

"Hey, Sarge."

Axler spun to face Alvarez followed by Baker. "What the fuck are you doing here? Man your positions. Baker, I thought you were too scared to come down here."

Baker punched the wall. "I’m too pissed to be scared. It fuckin’ sucks Sarge. Those assholes killed our friends. Friendly fire, my ass."

"Friendly fire? What the hell are you two talking about?"

"It was all a mistake," Alvarez said. "Those guys are CIA spooks. They got a report that insurgents wearing American uniforms and using American gear were using this as a base. They thought they had chemical weapons stored here. Shoot first and ask questions later, I guess."

The bushy-bearded man approached, followed by a dozen men. "My humble apologies, Sergeant. But you can surely understand."

"Friendly fire...My squad...you spook bastards."

The bearded man lashed out, striking down Baker and Alvarez. He pounced upon Axler before he could raise his pistol, tossing him like a rag doll against the wall. "Not friendly fire, we could not allow you to live. We of the Babylonian Brethren have searched for a century and a half for where a band of do-gooders entombed Queen Semiramis. Now that you know the reason for which this war is fought, how could we let you live?"

"The whole war fought to find some dead queen?"

"Not dead, undead. But what did you think Sergeant? That this war was to find weapons of mass destruction. The human sheep of modern complacent society are so easily led and lied too. So gullible."

The bearded man broke the chains around the coffin and opened the lid.

An emaciated thing rose from the coffin. Dried flesh stretched tight over bone, dust caked black hair hung matted around her shoulders. "Ah, Kingu. You took your time in rescuing me. Should I suspect treachery on your behalf?"

"Even if you did, what would you do about it? I made you. I gave you the gift of eternal life. I am full Anunnaki and you are a human half-breed. You, alone, could never harm me anyway. So leave your unfounded suspicions unspoken and rejoice in the fact that I found you at all. Rejoice, for with the technology of this age, the gate of Abzu can be opened. Tiamat can reign supreme, with us by her side."

Semiramis stepped out of her coffin and plucked Baker from the floor. How could something so scrawny be so strong? Axler watched as her yellowed fangs sank into the unconscious man’s neck. While she drank, her flesh expanded like a soaking sponge. She moved to Alvarez, consumed him as well. Her flesh was full now.

She knelt next to Axler, gazing into his eyes. Her pupils, if she had any, disappeared into her jet-black irises, which floated in blood red eyeballs. Her breath reeked of decay, and fresh blood.

"Get away from me, bitch"

"At least you brought me food, Kingu. And a pet. I like his spirit. He shall be my pet. Consider yourself privileged, doggie."

Axler’s head swam. The last thing he remembered before passing out was Semiramis’s cackling laugh echoing in his ears.

*******************************

California--2005--Fall

The little girl beckoned to Deandra from the roadside. She pointed toward a sign, rest stop, one mile.

"Lizzie, pull over at that rest stop." Deandra said.

"You read my mind. My teeth are floating."

The hearse’s tires squealed as Lizzie pulled off the interstate, sped up the exit ramp, and screeched to a stop in the nearest parking space. Lizzie climbed out and opened her parasol to shield her albino skin from the sun’s burning rays and headed toward the restroom.

Deandra approached the little girl, who was sitting atop a picnic table.

"Hey, Deandra. Where are you going?" Lizzie asked.

"I have to meet an old friend."

"Hi, Deandra. I see you’re still wearing plaid skirts and that old leather jacket. I like what you’ve done to your hair, how you always have the two little braids framing my old face. Had I kept that body, I may have had my hair done like that."

"Hello Cindy. I did not think I would see you again. I thought you were happy and had moved on. And why do you appear so young? You were fourteen when you left this husk, yet you only appear to be half that age."

"I was happy then, before my parents sold me to Grusilov and then he sold me to Mendes. I heard you killed them."

"Yes. Those evildoers are all dead. I avenged you and made sure no other children would suffer your fate."

"I knew you could do it. But enough chitchat, I’ve come to warn you. This road you travel leads to death."

"Death. For whom?"

"Many people are already dead. If you don’t turn back, perhaps even you and your friend will join them. This is like nothing you’ve ever faced before. There are ancient beings residing on the astral plane, called the Igigi. Once they were worshipped as gods, as were the others called Anunnaki. The Igigi are frightened. The seven guardians who watch the seven underworld gates have received their bribes. These gates are now open."

Cindy’s voice was fading, the once solid spirit, now transparent. Deandra moved closer. "These beings sound familiar, these Igigi."

"They are not the problem, the Anunnaki are. The old God who lost his blood and the dead queen with the unquenchable thirst, they are the problem. From beyond the seventh gate the queen has called them forth. Souls who dwell in the darkest void, choking on dust, forced to feed upon the clay of creation to appease their eternal hunger. The bloodthirsty queen dared do what once a Goddess only threatened, ‘I will raise the dead so that they may outnumber the living. I shall raise the dead so that they may devour the living.’ Seek the ancient one. He who has knowledge of eternal life. He holds the key to their defeat." Cindy’s voice faded to an unintelligible whisper and her spirit vanished.

"So, who’s your friend? Don’t tell me it’s the picnic table."

"This is no time for humor, Lizzie. I’d prefer you return to Los Angeles, I’m near enough to the college where I should have no trouble getting a ride."

"And break up the Ghoulgirls? I think not. This investigation may require my Witchcraft, not to mention my morbid Gothic wit. Why would you even suggest such a thing?"

"This is no longer a paranormal investigation." Deandra opened the hearse’s rear door and slid out the metal tray loaded with their equipment. She filled a duffle bag with extra magazines for her .45’s and dozens of little glass vials filled with Lizzie’s special demon killing potion, called demon bombs. Slinging the duffle bag over her shoulder, she removed her green-metal ammo can and the hard-plastic case containing her Benelli semi-automatic twelve gauge shotgun.

"You’re gonna look cute carrying that down the road. California isn’t the most gun tolerant state in America. You’ll be lucky to make it a mile before the Highway Pigtrol stops you." Lizzie’s pale blue eyes glared over the top of her sunglasses. "We’re supposed to be partners in this little business. You can’t ditch me that easy."

"Lizzie you’re my best friend. I don’t want to be responsible for your death. Please go home." Deandra headed for the interstate, ignoring Lizzie’s protests.

For at least a mile, Deandra tried to ignore the soft rumble of the hearse’s engine as Lizzie followed several feet behind.

"Damn it, Deandra, there’s a minimum speed limit. I’m gonna get a ticket. I can’t afford a ticket."

"Send me the bill."

"We don’t have time for this. Talk to me."

Deandra kept walking.

"It’s my life. I know the risks. Hell, I’ll even sign a disclaimer saying it’s not your fault if I get killed."

Deandra tossed her gear in the back and climbed in. Hopefully Lizzie’s loyalty wouldn’t cause her death.

Lizzie pulled off the interstate at the Peaceful Valley exit and headed down the twenty-mile long road leading to the town. "Hmm, according to the map, this is the only road in or out."

Deandra read from a sign. "Welcome to Peaceful Valley home of the Edison College of Science, Technology, and Medicine. Population 3500."

Cars, some wrecked, sat where their drivers abandoned them along the wood-lined road.

"Not even there yet," Lizzie said. "And things are already getting weird."

Deandra concentrated, using her elevated senses to scan for life signs. "I detect no people. Nor do I detect spirits or demons, but yet something lurks here."

"But these cars needed drivers. Where did they go? And why did they abandon them?"

Lizzie slammed on the brakes. A child sat before a wall of cars, blocking the road from tree line to tree line. The child was hunched over, her back to the hearse. She was wearing pink pajamas adorned with little sheep.

Deandra’s superhuman hearing still detected no sounds from the woods, or the child, not even a breath, or a heartbeat. "Lizzie get ready to get out of here. I‘m going to investigate." She left the hearse’s door open and inched toward the girl. She felt their eyes now. Perhaps hundreds watched, concealed in the thick brush. She gripped her two .45’s.

The little girl lumbered to her feet, staggering like a drunkard, or someone learning to walk for the first time. The child’s arms stretched forward, clawing the air, clawing for Deandra. From behind the thick tree trunks dozens more emerged, stumbling and lurching for the road. The child leaped.

Deandra caught the girl. It snarled and flailed in her arms, her mouth seeking Deandra’s flesh. There was no life in the body, but something, either soul or spirit, resided within. Deandra lifted the squirming child-thing above her head and slammed it straight down against her knee. The child’s spine cracked like a dry branch and Deandra cast it aside. Still the thing moved. Legs flopped and kicked, while her hands clawed the road.

Deandra drew her guns.

"Holy shit," Lizzie yelled. "They’re like zombies, shoot ’em in the head."

Deandra fired into the nearest half-dozen as they fumbled up the steep ditch and onto the road’s shoulder. Her bullets tore through the creatures’ heads. Still, they attacked. "Any more suggestions, Lizzie?"

"It always works in the movies. I suggest we just get the hell out of here." Lizzie tossed a demon bomb. It broke harmlessly against a zombie’s chest. "Damn, my bombs don’t work either.

At least thirty creatures now clambered toward the girls. Hundreds more poured from the woods, forming a roadblock of living dead bodies a quarter mile behind them. They’d need a tank to get through the zombie army, but beyond the vehicles, nothing moved.

"Lizzie, I’ll clear a path. We have no choice but to get to town."

A dozen zombies were now within ten feet of Deandra with at least ten more approaching Lizzie’s side. Deandra fired a barrage of .45 caliber slugs into the nearest creature. They ripped through the zombie’s chest, neck, and head, but barely slowed it down. She grabbed its head, twisted, and tore it off, lifted the still moving body and hurled it at the others. Like an undead bowling ball it slammed into the attackers, throwing them like rag dolls.

Deandra ran with blurring speed toward the roadblock. Her muscles and bones strained almost beyond their human limitations as she lifted a minivan’s front end several inches and moved it forward to create an opening. Lizzie drove through the roadblock as several zombies clambered atop the roof and hood.

Deandra grabbed one creature by the ankles and crashed its head into the pavement, splattering it like a melon. Still clutching the thing’s ankles, she spun several times. Using the zombie like a club, she knocked two more off the hood, and three off the roof, before tossing the zombie aside. Deandra crawled into the hearse as Lizzie stomped the gas pedal.

Lizzie swerved around several more vehicles and entered the town. "Oh my Goddess. There’s so many. And how do we kill them?"

"I wish I knew. I have a feeling we’ll find the answer at the college. Most likely this is some experiment gone awry. Father always told me zombies were usually re-animated slaves for voodoo priests. They’re not hard to dispose of, and pose no real threat. But Cindy told me some interesting things earlier."

"So that’s who you were talking to at the rest stop. You going to fill me in now?"

As Deandra repeated Cindy’s story, movement caught her eye. An armored car’s rear door burst open. A uniformed guard jumped out waving a shotgun.

"Deandra, I thought you didn’t detect any people. Are you starting to get sloppy?"

"Hmpf, we were a couple of miles away, and the armored car would have muffled the sound of any heartbeats. I’m not perfect you know."

"I know. Just givin’ you a little shit." Lizzie stopped the hearse, rolled down the window.

"Hey, I was starting to think we were the only ones left. I’m Pete by the way. We were just debating whether to drive through all these walking dead people or just ride this out somewhere. We tried phones, even cell phones, and the radio. Can’t get a hold of anybody outside town. Don’t know what’s goin’ on in other places. Do you?"

"Everything is normal outside of town," Deandra said. "Achieve a high rate of speed and you should have no problem driving through the zombies with your vehicle. I have business in town. Do you have room for my friend? That is, if she wishes to leave."

"Na," Lizzie said. "I came all this way, it would be a shame to turn back now when things are just starting to get good."

"Are you two a couple of nuts or something? There’s plenty of room for you both. We gotta get out of town. Nothing kills those things. Believe me, I’ve tried."

"Deandra and I are professionals when it comes to dealing with supernatural phenomena. If there’s a way to kill them, we’ll find it."

Pete shook his bald, black head. "I’d like to get some payback too. Those things killed my partner. They tore him apart and ate him. I blew one to hamburger with my shotgun, but the pieces still moved. Isn’t there anything I can do to convince you to leave?"

"No," Deandra said."

"Do you have a first aid kit? A woman is hurt bad."

Lizzie drove to the curb and shut the engine off. "As long as we’re here we might as well help out."

Deandra climbed out and ran to the armored car

"Listen," Pete said. "I meant what I said about getting payback. If you two really know how to handle this stuff, help me get these people to safety. I’ll bring you back and help in any way I can. I was a Marine. I saw action"

"Very well, I’m sure Lizzie would agree that our first responsibility would be to saving any innocents." Deandra looked into Pete’s eyes, searched his soul. He could handle things. "Welcome to the team, Pete."

Pete led the girls to the armored car. Lizzie immediately started helping a heavy woman, and a man with graying hair, give first aid to a critically injured woman. A child wept at the injured woman's feet. In the corner, a man in his early twenties held his weeping, almost hysterical, girlfriend.

"One of those things took a bite out of her," The heavy-set woman said. "I'm Bertha and this is Professor Timothy," she nodded to the gray haired man. "Don't know who this woman is, but that's her kid. I don't know the other two either."

"I'm Mike and this is my girlfriend, Jill. We go to the college here."

"I'm Deandra and this is Lizzie."

Lizzie closed her parasol and handed Bertha a bandage. "Otherwise known as the Ghoulgirls."

Mike jumped back when he noticed Lizzie's severe albinism "Wow, I don't mean to be rude, but..."

Lizzie smiled and went back to work, ignoring him.

"Mommy's hurt bad," the little girl said, "She's not gonna die. Is she?"

"Why don't you come with me?" Deandra took the child's hand. "Let's give them space to help your mother. Mike and Jill it would help if you left too."

Jill tore away from Mike's arms, cowered in the corner. "No, I won't leave. Don't make me leave. I don't want to get ate up by those things."

Deandra led the child from the armored car. The child's spine was twisted and misshapen, causing her to walk hunched over with one shoulder higher than the other.

"Will mommy be OK?"

"She needs to get medical attention, but I'm sure they'll be able to help her."

"Mommy brought me here to see the doctors at the big school, so they could make me normal. Those bad people hurt her neck."

"I wonder why those things don't attack us already?" Pete asked.

"They show organization, but have little or no sense of their own. Creatures of instinct. Something must be controlling them. It's like they're guarding something. I'm not sure what, or exactly who, but it's ancient, and pure evil. How did you come upon these survivors?"

"We were on our scheduled bank route when we came upon the woman and kid getting attacked, Bertha was there too. We helped 'em out, but that's when my partner got killed. The two lovebirds just came walkin' out of the woods, holding hands just like nothin' was wrong. They said they hiked out a couple of miles to do some camping. Same with the professor, he just came out of his house like it was just another day."

Deandra paced along the sidewalk. "It would appear that these zombies are the townspeople and college students. They were murdered to create an army to protect the evildoer’s plans."

Jill ran from the armored car. "Oh shit. She’s dead. She’s dead. Keep her away from me, in the movies they always get back up."

Mike wrapped his arms around her. "Shh, babe, It’s gonna be OK."

The child’s agonized cries knifed through Deandra’s ears. The sobbing girl hobbled to her dead mother. Lizzie leaped from the armored car and wrapped the girl in her arms.

"Mommy, let me go to mommy."

"No there’s nothing you can do," Lizzie said. "You don’t want to see her like that. Trust me. I lost my mom when I was about your age and it’s better to remember them the way they were."

The professor approached Deandra. "If you’re who I think you are, we need to talk--"

"No, don’t. Let me go." Bertha cried from within the armored car.

The vehicle rocked as Bertha’s screams ended in a squishy tearing sound. Her body splattered in the street. Her ripped open abdomen left a trail of intestines leading to the vehicle’s rear.

Gun’s drawn, Deandra rushed to the armored car. The dead mother squatted amidst an intestinal pile. Gore squished between her fingers as it devoured a length of small intestine. Deandra’s bullets blew the creature’s head off. But still, it lunged. She dodged the leaping carcass, which landed in a crouch, hands still clawing the air in search of food. Several more shots blew the zombie’s arms off at the shoulders.

"Mommy!"

Lizzie buried the child’s head into her shoulder. "No. It’s not your mommy anymore. Her soul has moved on, and something evil moved in."

The zombie still leaped around the sidewalk, kicking blindly in the air. Pete’s buckshot ripped one leg off below the knee. He pumped his shotgun and blew off the other. The creature flopped around, like a fish out of water, slamming into the back of Mike’s legs. He lurched forward under the zombie’s weight, his nose smashing into the curb. The bouncing thing continued down the street. Pete fired again. The thing’s ass turned to Swiss cheese, but it still moved.

"Save your ammunition," Deandra said, reloading her .45’s.

"What the fuck is that thing?" Jill cried, helping Mike stand.

The thing approached from the alley, leading a unit of zombies. Clawed feet scraped along the pavement, attached to legs covered with black fur, which disappeared into a chain mail skirt. Fur covered arms extended from a golden breastplate. One claw-like hand gripped a spear while the other undid a curved horn from a leather belt. A golden helmet covered its head. Coal black eyes glared from its fur covered face, a face that vaguely resembled a rottweiler.

"Jesus Christ," Pete said. "It’s like a weirdo walking dog."

"Galla," professor Timothy said. "Dog-faced underworld demons."

A piercing shriek emanated from the horn as the Galla assembled a unit of zombies. They gathered behind the Galla in five rows. Now, some of the zombies carried weapons, clubs, broken bottles, whatever they could find.

"Pete, start your vehicle. Everyone get inside." Deandra ran to the hearse, grabbed her shotgun, ammo can, and duffle bag.

"Don’t forget my demon kit," Lizzie yelled while hurling a demon bomb toward the Galla. It exploded against the demon’s leg. The Galla howled, writhing in agony, as the flames enveloped it. It exploded in a shower of burning pulp. "At least my bombs work against the dog faced things."

Everyone piled into the armored car. Deandra slammed the doors shut as the zombie horde attacked. The van lurched forward when Pete stomped on the gas.

*****************

Sergeant Axler struggled against the chains binding him at the vampire’s feet; it was nearly Semiramis’s feeding time. She tugged the chain shackled to his ankle. The cold concrete floor scraped like sandpaper against his naked flesh as she pulled him to her. White robbed technicians ignored his plight and continued their tasks.

"Why do you resist me? You know your feeble attempts to deny me only give me more pleasure."

"You bitch, just kill me already."

She knelt above him, her black hair spilled over her shoulders as her gaze penetrated his eyes. Her blood red black irised eyes glared from her pale gray, clay colored face. Her yellowing fangs protruded as her pale blue lips twisted in a mischievous grin. Jet-black fingernails, sharp as razors, snaked over his bare chest. Her cold, dry tongue probed against his neck, seeking his pulse. Finding it, she pierced his artery, consumed his blood. When she finished Axler lay as weak as an infant.

The door burst open and the thing called Kingu led a procession of military personnel into the room. Some of the men seemed shocked by the sight of Axler; others already knew the nature of the demons they conspired with.

Kingu smiled at Axler, a hateful gleam in his eyes. His eyes and flesh were the same as Semiramis’s. His black hair curled below his shoulders and a curly beard stretched down his chest.

"Semiramis, I am disappointed you choose to display your human pet for all to see. The humans who seek to usurp the powers of the world governments support us now, but these fickle creatures grow tired of such displays. They think they can ascend to our level, but the weaker ones fear you wish to feed upon them."

Semiramis, ignoring him, flitted to General Rockford’s side. "And you, General, do you fear me as your minions do?"

"Why should I, My Queen? We all want the same things. We of the Babylonian Brethren have served you long. We all seek the resurrection of Tiamat and the unification of the world under her control. And I must say I am impressed by the Ouroboceletron Super-Collider’s progress."

"But there are certain problems arising," Kingu said. "A small group of survivors have banded together. One galla has already been destroyed."

"What? That is most troublesome." Semiramis swirled her hand in a circular motion, creating a ball of pure energy. Images of an armored car plowing through hordes of zombies formed. The vehicle, attempting to leave town, was forced back by an immobile wall of dead. It now raced through the streets, towards the college. "Why would they come here?"

"Perhaps to stop us," Kingu said. "There is one among them, an non-human soul residing in a human body. She is powerful."

Axler rose to his knees. "They will stop you. Somebody always stops you. Good always wins in the end."

Kingu slammed the back of his hand across Axler’s face. "Silence doggie."

"Why didn’t you just let them leave?" Rockford asked.

"Fool," Kingu said. "So they could seek help, or return better prepared. I don’t think you understand just what we’re dealing with."

"Let us find out," Semiramis said.

Axler lay laughing as the ball’s image changed, focusing on a beautiful girl with shoulder length brown hair, her face framed by two braids.

"Holy shit," Rockford said. "That’s Deandra Duke. She is a problem. It’s said she’s a remnant from another universe that was destroyed by the creation of this universe. I’ve heard she has awesome power."

The image changed to that of an albino girl in a long black skirt and hooded sweatshirt fumbling through an old leather doctor bag.

"And this one has the power of magick. What do you know of her, general?" Semiramis asked.

"I don’t know her name, but Deandra is said to have a friend, a Goth who’s a Witch. I would assume that would be her."

The image refocused again. This time an older man appeared wearing a blue suit.

"Him," Kingu cried. "What’s he doing here? We may have a problem, with these three against us. Perhaps it is time you call in your troops, General."

Axler lay back and smiled. Perhaps there still was hope, even if just a little.

********************

"Sorry, guys," Pete said through the intercom. "I thought we'd be able to drive out'a here, but they're just too thick."

"Why are you going to the college?" Jill asked. "There's a lot of zombies there too."

"Sometimes we get hired to drop off expensive high-tech equipment. There's a secure receiving garage at the tech building. There's only one problem, you need a code and I don't know it."

"Jill has a point though," Mike said. "There are a lot of zombies there. We couldn't drive through them on the road. Maybe they'll be too thick there too."

"Well there's only one way to find out," Pete said.

Deandra sat next to the professor. "You attempted to speak to me earlier. What did you need to tell me? I think you know more than you’re telling us. And I suggest you speak."

"You know Ruth Ficklestein, don't you?"

"Yes she's engaged to marry Father."

"So you are Mark Dukes daughter, that's what I thought. Ruth is a former student, actually my best student. When I heard she was dating a famous paranormal investigator, I thought he could help. There is an evil intelligence behind the Ouroboceletron--"

"Ouroboceletron, I heard about that," Lizzie said. "The most powerful super-collider in the world. It’s supposed to spin sub-atomic particles at the speed of light."

"Yes, exactly. You know physics?"

"No professor. I usually sleep in that class. I just saw a documentary about it."

"I don’t really care about your scientific gadgetry," Deandra said. "Father and Ruth are on vacation. That’s why Lizzie and I came instead. Why don’t you tell me about the evil at work here."

"Demons, vampires actually, are planning to use the Ouroboceletron to literally raise hell."

"Damn it professor," Mike said. "Doesn’t it look like they already have? Why didn’t you notify the authorities?"

"The authorities are working with the vampires, or at least some secret societies operating within them are. The Babylonian Brethren worship the same abominations that the vampires do."

Lizzie jumped up. "I knew the Illuminati would rear their ugly heads one day. So, the New World Order is behind this?"

The professor nodded. "They are one of many factions of the illuminated societies. They worship an ancient Sumerian Goddess called Tiamat."

"Enough of the history lesson already," Pete yelled over the intercom. "We’re only a couple blocks from the college, the zombies are getting thick, and I have no idea what the code is."

The incessant sounds of crunching bones and thud of bodies slamming into the van’s grill reverberated through the vehicle, which slowed as dozens of zombies hurled themselves under the tires, their mashed bodies clogging the wheel-wells. Deandra peeked out the gun port to see hundreds of zombies assaulting the vehicle. Hundreds more charged down the rolling hills surrounding the college parking lot, they no longer staggered, they were becoming accustomed to their bodies.

The armored car lurched forward as it broke through the zombie ranks, leaving the creatures chasing behind. Pete accelerated, gaining as much distance as possible. "Everybody, brace yourself," he yelled, before slamming on the brakes.

Deandra flung open the doors of the still moving van and ran to the heavy steel garage door, on the wall, to its right was a keyboard.

"It’s an eight digit code with both letters and numbers," Pete yelled. "It’ll take years to figure it out. Maybe I should just drive through?"

"No. I’d prefer this door to be between us and them." Deandra’s fingers moved with blurring speed as she typed different combinations of codes.

"Damn, girl," Pete said. "Nobody can move that fast. But there could be billions of combinations."

"Denied. Denied. Denied. Den. Den. De. De. D. D. D." The electronic voice became an imperceptible blur as Deandra continued typing. The sounds of thousands of attacking zombies echoed in her ears.

"I may be able to hold them for a minute or two," Lizzie said.

Still typing, Deandra turned to see Lizzie sitting cross-legged between the van and the charging zombies. "Do what you can. I think I almost have it." Deandra felt Lizzie’s protective circle grow around them.

The zombies crashed into the invisible wall. It wavered, but held. Deandra was surprised by how powerful Lizzie had become, but no one could withstand the onslaught for long. Finally, the electronic voice uttered "accepted" and the garage door opened. Deandra focused her energy on strengthening Lizzie’s circle, while Pete drove the armored car into the garage.

"Good goin’ girl," Pete said. "What the hell’s your friend doin’ just sitting out there?"

"Don’t worry about it, just shut the door."

"Sure, but you better get in here. Why are all those zombies just standing there beating at the air?"

"Shut the door. Now!"

The door started to lower. Lizzie began twitching and convulsing like she was having a seizure. Deandra poured her strength into the circle and sprinted to Lizzie. The door was half closed.

"Hurry up, you two." Pete yelled.

Deandra grabbed Lizzie, threw her over her shoulder, and ran. The protective circle disintegrated and the zombie horde attacked.

Deandra ducked under the door, with only a few feet left before closing. Some of the zombies moved with surprising speed, but the door closed as they slammed into it.

Deandra lay the semi-conscious Lizzie on the concrete floor. The rest of the group assembled around them. The little girl hobbled forward and knelt to hold Lizzie’s hand.

"What did you do?" Jill Asked. "That’s impossible."

Deandra gathered her gear from the armored car. She surveyed the garage, no windows, and only the garage door and a heavy steel door leading into the college. "This appears to be secure. You people should be safe here. Make Lizzie more comfortable."

Lizzie fought to sit up. "Just give me some time to catch my breath."

Jill stepped forward and grabbed Deandra’s arm. "You didn’t answer my question. What did you two do back there? If you can stop these things, why didn’t you do it when we were trying to leave town?"

"First, Blondie, you can remove your hand. We were only able to hold them back for a minute and we weren’t completely surrounded like we were on the road. I have no time or energy to waste explaining anything to you. Don’t you think you and your boyfriend should do something beside just tagging along?"

"Lay off, lady. We’re not commandos or weirdo occult people like you and freak show here." Mike said.

Deandra lunged at Mike, but Lizzie’s foot got to him first, in his groin.

Lizzie staggered to her feet "Who you callin’ freak show? How far do you think you’d get without Deandra and me?"

"Enough," professor Timothy yelled. "We have to work together."

Lizzie wobbled, using her parasol like a cane. "Maybe that’s the problem. Some of us are working, others are doing nothing but cry and complain." The little girl took Lizzie’s hand and helped her balance.

Pete collected boxes of shotgun shells from the armored car. "All I know is that I’m stickin’ with the girls."

"So am I," Timothy said. "You’ll need me to guide you to the Ouroboceletron."

"Where is this celetron thing?" Pete asked. "I’ve been working this route for seven years and been all over this college."

"It’s not at the college, it’s two miles away. Reached by either an access road or a subway system. Does anybody have a sheet of paper? Perhaps I should draw a map."

"Here," Pete said. "You can draw on the back of my delivery manifest."

Timothy drew a rectangle with a circle attached to each of the short sides and one circle on the back connected to a square. "The rectangle is the main college building. The circle on the left is the tech building, that’s where we are. The circle on the right is the medical building and the science building is in back, the square behind the science building is the parking ramp. You can take an elevator or stairwell located in the parking ramp to access the subway. The overland route is behind the parking ramp. To get there we can go through the buildings or under them. There are maintenance tunnels stretching all over the grounds.

"How do we access these tunnels?" Deandra asked.

"Through the maintenance rooms in the basements of each building. But these tunnels are like a maze, I’ve not been through them all."

"As long as we’re going together, and there is no immediate danger, I propose we rest a bit," Deandra said.

Lizzie sat on the steps leading to the security door. "Deandra, did you pack any of those crappy powerbars?"

Deandra sat next to Lizzie and opened her duffle bag. "These things taste like chocolate covered dirt-sticks, but they’re not as offensive as cabbage or other leafy green things."

"I’m hungry. Can I have one too?" The girl asked.

Deandra handed her one. "They’re not very palatable."

"Hey kid, you never told us your name," Lizzie said between bites.

"I’m Susan, but everybody calls me Suzy. Yucky, this tastes poopie."

Lizzie giggled. "But they’re full of vitamins, minerals, and other poopie stuff that’ll make you grow up to be big and strong."

"There are a lot of minerals in dirt too," Deandra said.

Tears streamed down Suzy’s face. "Mommy always said that too. That I’d grow big and strong. All the kids in school make fun of me ‘cause I’m all bent up and my back bumpy."

Lizzie hugged the sobbing child. "There’s nothing wrong with being different. Look at me. You can’t get anymore different than me."

"But your so pretty, Lizzie. And you’re so cool."

"I’ll admit I’m pretty...weird. If those kids keep making fun of you, me and Deandra will come and have a little talk with them."

"Will you protect me, Lizzie?"

"Of course I will. I promise to keep you safe."

Deandra felt a lump rising in her throat; hopefully Lizzie wasn’t making a promise she couldn’t keep. "Let’s get going."

"I got my partner's shotgun here. Who wants it?" Pete asked.

"I’ll take it." Mike said. Still holding his crotch.

"No. No," Jill said. "We hate guns."

"God damn it Jill. I love you. But the others are right; we’ve got to start pulling our weight. And I do know how to use it. I used to shoot clay pigeons with my dad."

Deandra distributed the gear amongst them. Even Jill carried her fair share.

"I’ll lead, professor, follow me, then Lizzie and Suzy, Mike and Jill. Pete you take the rear.

"No problem," Pete said. "How you plan to get through the door? You gonna crack the code again?"

Deandra examined it, strong, but just a normal door. She spun, and kicked it off its hinges, sending the steel door flying down the hall.

"Lizzie smiled back at Mike. "Aren’t you glad I kicked you in the balls instead of her?"

The college was empty. Deandra led them down the stairs leading to the basement. They came to a set of double doors marked maintenance. Deandra turned the door handle.

"Go away, leave me the hell alone. I got a gun and I ain’t afraid to use it."

"Please, let us in," Jill cried, throwing herself to the floor in front of the doors. "I don’t want to die out here. We’re just trying to live."

Deandra grabbed Jill by her backpack strap, pulled her away from the door. "Get back to your position. She’s right; we just need to get through. We mean you no harm."

"Piss off."

Deandra handed her shotgun to Lizzie. "Looks like I’ll have to do this the hard way. Press yourselves to the wall and get out of his line of fire."

"You can’t kill him. He’s just trying to survive, like we are." Mike said.

Three muffled gunshots echoed in Deandra’s ears, followed by splintering wood. She dropped as the bullets passed overhead. "Hold your fire. We have a child with us. Nobody is going to hurt you."

"Fuck you. I heard what that guy said."

The doors’ hinges were on the outside; Deandra would have to pull them open. She gripped one door handle and planted her foot against the other door. In one lightning fast move, she slammed the door handle down and ripped the door outward. The lock gave way, wood cracked, and the door splintered against the wall.

Two gunshots greeted Deandra. With a ballerina’s grace, she spun as the bullets raced by. Her foot lashed out, kicking the shooter’s gun from his hand. Spinning again, her foot caught him in the stomach. The man doubled over, gasping for breath.

Deandra lunged at Mike, tore the shotgun from his hands, and smacked it across his face. Mike spun around and dropped. He crawled to Jill, rubbing the growing bruise on his cheek. "Your stupidity could have gotten someone killed. I hope you’ve learned your lesson. I don’t want to have to kill you."

Jill cradled the weeping Mike. "Oh my God. You’re insane. Completely out of control."

"That’s where you’re wrong," Lizzie said. "Nobody is more sane or in control in a situation like this. Deandra’s your best hope for survival, but you both act like a couple of self-righteous fools, judging her every step of the way. That is, when you’re not crying, complaining, or whining."

Deandra laid the shotgun next to Mike. "You said you know how to use this. It would be foolish to give it to someone unfamiliar with it. This is your last chance; fail once more and you’ll both be left behind. I don’t have time to explain my every move, or check with you about the morality of my decisions, or to baby sit."

Timothy retrieved the man’s gun and handed it to Deandra. "I’ve never shot one of these things."

Deandra handed it to the recovering man, still rubbing his belly. "You can have this back if you promise not to try to shoot one of us with it. If you give me any reason to think you will, I’ll have to kill you."

"How?" The man asked. "That was a heavy wood door. No, don’t tell me. After all I’ve seen since last night, nothing is beyond belief."

"You were in town last night?" Lizzie asked.

"Yes, I work the custodial night shift."

"Strange that you and professor Timothy are the only ones who were in town who weren’t turned into zombies." Deandra said.

"I'm sorry I shot at you. I was just so scared. I thought I was the only person still alive. Since last night all I've thought about was how many of those things there are out there. When you count the townspeople, college students and faculty, not to mention business employees from out of town, there could be twelve to thirteen thousand zombies out there. We don't have a chance. My names Jim. Maybe you should just leave me here, I'm not a violent person, never even shot a gun before today. And I never wanted to.

"If you're finished rambling, perhaps you could tell us some useful information, like how you managed to survive." Deandra said.

"It was the middle of the night and we were spraying the grounds for mosquitoes. We got a report that helicopters were spraying to prevent West Nile Virus, so we thought it would be good time to do the college. It was a pretty potent spray so we all had gasmasks on. One guy's lenses were fogging up so he took his off to clean them. The helicopters flew over and he just dropped. Our supervisor went to check on him, he took off his mask too, and when he dropped, I figured I better keep mine on. A few minutes later they got back up, or at least tried. It was like they didn’t know how to walk. I thought it was because of the spray, so I went to help them up and my supervisor tried to bite me. I locked myself in here. Lucky for me, the zombies stay outside."

"I’d be willing to bet those helicopters were black and unmarked, damn New World Order." Lizzie said.

"What about you professor? Were you conveniently wearing a gasmask too?" Deandra asked.

"Just lucky, I guess," Timothy said.

Deandra glared at Timothy. "I have no time to question you now. I’ll be keeping an eye on you. Jim, do you know your way through the tunnels to the subway station?"

"Of course, like the back of my hand. But I’m not goin’ down there. Please just leave me alone."

"Your chances of survival are much better with a group," Deandra said.

"They haven’t even came inside the building yet, maybe they won’t."

"On the contrary," Timothy said. "Those who control the zombies perceive us to be a threat. They’ll be coming. I propose we make a detour to the science building, they have some nasty chemicals in the labs."

"We could use some better weapons." Deandra said.

Jim jumped up. "Some gas might help. We always keep a few gallons in each building, saves a lot of time rather than running to the groundskeeper’s shed when we’re doing yard work."

Jim led them through the maze of tunnels, stopping only at a storeroom near the outside exit to retrieve two five-gallon gas cans.

Pete picked them up. "Cool, they’re both full, now we can make some Molotov cocktails."

Timothy flashed a wide grin. "Better than that, I know the recipe for napalm, and they have the ingredients in the chemistry lab."

The tunnels were wide enough for a small car to drive through. Electrical cables, Sewer lines, water and gas pipes stretched along the wall and ceiling.

"If you have to shoot, beware of the gas pipes," Deandra said.

Behind them, a shrill horn sounded the attack, the thundering roar of hundreds of zombies followed. To their front, another Galla’s horn blared.

They’ve got us sandwiched in, but the stairs to the science building is just up ahead." Jim said.

"Run for it," Deandra yelled.

"We’ll never make it," Jill cried.

Mike grabbed her arm, but the terrified woman looked back. She froze when she saw the advancing horde. Mike yanked, half dragging her behind him. "Come on babe, move."

Lizzie started to pick up Suzy, but Pete plucked the child from her. "Sorry Lizzie, but I can move faster carrying the child, you’re still weak from before."

The group sprinted for the exit. Mike, still dragging the hysterical Jill, fell far behind. Pete, with Suzy, made it to the stairs first, followed by Lizzie, Jim, and Timothy. Deandra lagged behind to cover Mike and Jill.

The zombies closed the gap on both sides, moving with surprising speed. Deandra stopped. "Hurry up, you two."

Pete handed Suzy to Lizzie, who disappeared up the stairs. Pete stayed behind, aiming his shotgun down the opposite side of the tunnel. "Hurry up, you guys. They’re almost here and I can’t hold ‘em."

Deandra watched the attacking armies. They were closer on Pete’s side. If he died, the zombies would overtake the rest. "Move it, Mike." She aimed her shotgun, but her buckshot would tear Mike and Jill to pieces before she would hit the zombies.

The boom of Pete’s shotgun erupted behind Deandra. They were almost on him. Jill stumbled. Mike stopped to help her up, but she screamed and a dark stain flowed down the leg of her jeans.

"Help us." Mike cried, his tear-filled eyes begging for Deandra’s help. With Jill’s panic, there was no way she could drag or carry her along. Jill was paralyzed with fear. Mike would never leave Jill, and she couldn’t fight and carry them both.

Pete’s shotgun clicked empty.

Jill fell again, curling into a fetal position.

"Deandra, they’re almost here,’ Pete yelled.

"Deandra, help us." Mike cried, trying to lift his girlfriend.

Sacrifice two and save the rest, or risk losing everyone. Deandra made her choice. She ignored Mike’s pleas. With superhuman speed, she sprinted to Pete’s side. His shotgun was empty again, and the zombies were closing in. Deandra emptied her shotgun into the advancing sea of dead flesh. Her buckshot shredded zombie bodies and blew their heads to pulp.

Deandra tossed her shotgun to Pete. "Get to the rest of the group."

"I can’t leave you."

"Do it now." She commanded, drawing her .45’s. More zombie heads exploded from her barrage. The headless dead slowed and their faster counterparts rammed into them, tumbled and fell. They twisted and squirmed, entangled in their writhing limbs.

Behind Deandra, Jill’s screams mixed with the boom of Mike’s shotgun. Soon, his screams followed. Rather then stopping to feast, the zombies tossed Jill and Mike over their heads, each ripping off a piece of flesh and passing the still screaming couple back. The screaming stopped as their corpses became no more than chunks of ripped flesh and torn limbs. Some waved lengths of intestines like bloody banners trailing behind them. One gnawed on Jill’s forearm like a human would a turkey drumstick; it never even slowed down.

Deandra rushed up the stairs and pulled the door shut behind her.

Jim locked it, "That won’t hold for long."

As if to answer him, dead hands started beating upon the doors.

Jim wrapped a chain around the door handles and padlocked it. "That’s what we use to keep drunk students from screwing around in the tunnels. I doubt it’ll keep the zombies out long."

"They know right where we are," Deandra said. "How many entrances are there to this building?"

"Lots, but the science building is secure. Complete lockdown all night, doors are pretty solid too."

"The chemistry lab is on the second floor," Timothy said.

Deandra reloaded her weapons and slung her shotgun over her shoulder. "Well, lead the way, professor."

Pete placed his hand on Deandra's shoulder. "There wasn't anything you could've done to save Jill and Mike. In the end we're all responsible for ourselves. You couldn't have stopped Jill from freakin' out. It's not your fault they got killed."

"And I know it's not my fault these bastards wiped out a whole town, but it's my responsibility to stop them. Had I came as soon as I received professor Timothy's message, maybe I could have thwarted them earlier. I can't bring back the dead or change the past, but I can stop them from winning, I have to stop them"

The professor led them to a large central staircase leading to the second floor.

"Why don’t we just take the elevator?" Jim asked.

Deandra just looked at him and shook her head. Lizzie laughed.

"What did I say?"

"There’s no escape in an elevator and you never know what’ll be on the other side when the doors open." Pete said.

Behind them, an army of zombies pounded on the outer set of three side-by-side double doors and the impact resistant glass framing them.

"Don’t worry," Jim said. "That glass is harder than hell to break. And even if they get past the outer doors, the inner ones are just as tough. The second floor skyway that connects this building to the main one only has one set of doors."

The stairway opened into the middle of large open area. A short brick wall surrounded the open stairway on three sides. About fifty feet behind the wall’s short side were the locked set of skyway doors surrounded by a wall of glass windows. Deandra ran around the short wall looking down at the exposed stairs below. With the proper weapons it could be a death trap for attackers from the first floor. She rushed to the skyway doors, they were secure, but the locks were not as strong as those on the ground level. If only there was a way to further secure the doors. At least no zombies were in the skyway.

Deandra caught up to the group as they approached the chemistry lab. Further up the hall rose the stairway leading to the third floor. A narrow hallway stretched back along the side the stairway. "Does that lead to the parking ramp?"

"Yes," Timothy said, "The tower with the stairwell leading to the subway is on the far side of the ramp. The entrances are protected with heavy steel doors. That should slow down any zombies to our rear." He opened the lab door.

Ten rows of black-topped tables loaded with beakers and Bunsen burners stretched the room’s length. A professor’s office and a door marked "chemicals" were on the far wall on either side of a long blackboard.

Pete and Jim set the gas cans atop the instructor’s table.

Timothy disappeared into the chemical room and returned with a double boiler and electric hotplate. "You don’t want to brew napalm over a Bunsen burner’s open flame. Pete, Jim, could you help me gather the chemicals?"

Pete laid his shotgun on the table and he and Jim followed Timothy.

Lizzie lifted the yawning Suzy to a countertop. "Hey, you’ve been awful quiet lately."

"I’m just tired," she lie down and curled into a ball.

Deandra found a lab stool cushion and placed it under Suzy’s head. "Here you go, try to get some rest."

Lizzie pulled Deandra away. "What are we gonna do with her? If we make it to the Ouroboceletron it’s going to be a hell of a fight. No place for a child."

"The poor child has already been through hell. Perhaps we can find a fairly safe place to hide her."

"We can’t just leave her, she’s already traumatized. To abandon her would really screw her up. We’ve really bonded. For once, I’m less concerned with defeating the bad guys as I am with saving Suzy."

"I know, but we have yet to find out exactly who our enemies are or what their motives might be. The scientific implications of their plot are meaningless to me. If this Ouroboceletron is as powerful a contraption as it sounds, perhaps getting Suzy away from here wouldn’t save her. This plot has global implications; it must be stopped now. We may never get a second chance if our enemies succeed."

"The time has come to answer all of your questions," Timothy said. "Today, we are pawns in an ancient war fought since before humans walked this world. What do you know about Mesopotamian mythology?"

"Father taught me many of the ancient legends."

"You’re talking about the Anunnaki?" Lizzie asked.

"Cindy mentioned them earlier," Deandra said.

"Yes, the Anunnaki and those who are older, Tiamat and Abzu. In legend, Abzu was God of the primeval ocean. Tiamat was Abzu’s wife. When the God Enki killed Abzu, she became enraged. She conspired with another God, Kingu, and together they created an army of demons. Enki sent his son, Marduk, to defeat them, which he did. He cut Tiamat in half. He used one part to create the heavens, with the other half, the Earth. He created humans by draining Kingu’s blood and mixing it with the clay of creation.

"But what does this have to do with vampires?" Deandra asked.

"Legend is based on fact, but fact is often lost as the legend is passed down. It is assumed that Kingu died, but he is Anunnaki, thus, he has the power of a god. He lived on without his blood and developed a hatred for the humans created from it. He has thirsted for it ever since. He is one of the vampires we face. The first vampire, and a god."

"Boy, this gets better and better," Lizzie said.

Timothy smiled and continued to mix the chemicals. "Have either of you ever heard of Semiramis?"

"Wasn’t she the wife of Nimrod?" Deandra asked.

Lizzie giggled. "Nimrod."

"That’s one of many legends, but we’re not concerned with any of her many husbands or sexual conquests. Semiramis is the Greek version of Sammu-Ramat, an Assyrian queen. For eight years she ruled with her husband until her beauty faded with age. That’s when she met Kingu, who promised eternal youth. She accepted, and became a vampire. But she also had Anunnaki blood. A female with Anunnaki blood, that’s important. Only an Anunnaki female can raise the dead."

"Of course," Deandra said. "Cindy mentioned that this vampire has done what a goddess once threatened. I remember a story about Inanna’s descent into the underworld. She threatened to raise the dead if her lover wasn’t returned to life."

"Exactly, your father taught you well. Who is this Cindy?"

"I guess you could call her my spirit guide. She said the guardians received their bribes and the seven gates were opened."

"The Inanna legend is partially false, at least the parts where she bribes the guardians with her clothing and jewelry. There is a sexual nature to the truth behind the legend."

"Did she screw her way through?" Lizzie asked.

"No, I said sexual, but not sex. She gave them a taste of her starfire. A taste of her menstrual flow."

"Disgusting," Deandra said.

"Damn, if I would’ve known you would be talking about menstrual flow...Jim let’s go check the skyway." Pete said.

"I don’t know, I think I’ll stay here. I’ve just got to try to relax."

Timothy combined the different chemicals into a bowl, stirring it into a thick jelly-like mixture. "Now here’s what they want with the Ouroboceletron. But first you need to know the true story of Abzu and Tiamat. In the myth I told you earlier the primeval sea of Abzu and Tiamat was said to combine the sweet, or fresh water, of Abzu, and the bitter, or salt water, of Tiamat. The primordial sea had nothing to do with water; it was another dimension. Abzu and Tiamat each had one of the keys necessary to open a gateway into this world from another, Tiamat’s starfire and the semen of Abzu. Substances within combine the natural properties and elements thereof into the basic building blocks and power of the natural universe."

"You’re losing me," Deandra said.

"A little to deep for me too," Lizzie added.

"Very well, basically they need the Ouroboceletron to open the gate to Tiamat’s universe. Obviously, they can’t get Abzu’s semen; they need a property his semen contained. The closest thing on Earth to this property is monoatomic gold. That, mixed with Anunnaki starfire will give a power boost to the Ouroboceletron. The Ouroboceletron will become a dynamo of perpetual energy, combined with Tesla technology it will have enough power to open a wormhole between the worlds."

"Tesla, I heard of him," Lizzie said. "The government stole his research. The New World Order is suppressing his work."

"More than suppressing it, they’re using it. The secret societies behind global conspiracy are very real. That’s what the Babylonian Brethren are doing here. They, with the help of Kingu and Semiramis have plotted the return of Tiamat for millennia."

"Thank you for filling us in," Deandra said. "I have one question. How do we kill the vampires and zombies?"

"You can’t kill the vampires, there is no way. Many have tried. Don’t even mention the legendary ways, like stakes through the heart, that’s all bullshit, at least with Sumerian vampires. The zombies, on the other hand, can be killed, but I’d be wasting your time to tell you how."

"You need to tell us everything you know." Deandra said.

"Very well, but it won’t do us any good. The venom of the Scorpion-people is the only thing that can kill them. They sided with Tiamat during the war, but the Anunnaki forgave them. They use them as a countermeasure should any fickle goddess decide to raise the dead. As part of the penance for revolt, they sore only to obey the Anunnaki. Unfortunately, the Anunnaki have moved on, leaving only Kingu And Semiramis. They must have ordered the Scorpion-people to stand down."

"You’re right, professor. That doesn’t do us any good. Unless you know a Scorpion-person or two who could help us out," Lizzie said.

Deandra twirled one of her braids. "Let me guess, these Scorpion-people do not live in this world."

"No they live just beyond the veil to the underworld, just outside the first gate. Sometimes they cross over through mystical areas, such as the gates at thr Mountains of Mashu, but that’s in the Middle East. I do know an ancient spell to open a portal, but it’s suicide to enter. It’s only been done once, by Gilgamesh, but--"

"He had Anunnaki blood," Deandra finished. "Why did he seek to enter?"

"He only wanted to talk to Utnapishtim, the Sumerian equivalent of Noah, to find the secret of eternal life. And he had to defeat the Scorpion-people king in combat."

"Lizzie, Do you think you could help Timothy with a spell to open a portal?"

"Sure. A portal to an underworld where human spirits can pass shouldn’t be too bad."

"You’re not planning too...no, that’s insane. You’ll never make it. If you died there your soul, even though I know it’s not human, would be trapped there. Trapped in an afterlife created by cruel Sumerian Gods. Forced to grope blindly through pitch darkness, choking on dust, forced to eat the clay of creation. That’s the final bit of lore I have to tell you. Why do these zombies have such a hunger for flesh? Remember that humans were created from Kingu’s blood and clay. The clay of creation is none other than human flesh."

Pete burst in. "It's getting thick out there. They broke through and are in the skyway. That door won't hold long."

"How long will it take to open the portal?" Deandra asked.

Timothy set the water filled bottom of the double boiler on the hotplate, and filled the top half with a combination of gas and gelatin. "I'll need some special herbs that I doubt we'll be able to get."

Lizzie opened her doctor bag. "I'll bet my demon kit has everything you'll need."

While the napalm slow-cooked in batches, Lizzie mixed the herbs required for the spell. Timothy, with Jim's help, mixed gunpowder and packed it into pop cans; around the pop cans they taped rows of nails. Deandra and Pete left to survey the situation.

At least one hundred zombies crowded the skyway, with more on the way. "Those doors are already starting to give way. If only we could blow that skyway." Pete said.

"That's the plan, if the professor's gunpowder is potent enough. More importantly, we need to break these windows to allow smoke and heat to escape."

"You're really gonna napalm this whole area?"

Deandra inspected the thick glass windows. "I plan to incinerate them."

"That's impact resistant glass, not bulletproof, but we can't waste ammo shooting it out."

Deandra picked up a round wooden table. "Stand back, Pete." She spun three times, gathered speed, and hurled the table. Spinning like a giant frisbee, it crashed through the window. "Only three more to go. Pete, drag a few of the long tables in front of the skyway."

The skyway doors started cracking under the force of zombie weight as Pete drug two long tables before them and flipped them on their sides to create a makeshift wall. Deandra tossed three more tables. They shattered the remaining windows. Next, she helped Pete pile more tables in front of the doors and to the sides of the brick wall.

"Times almost up," Deandra said. "Get the napalm, I'll hold here."

The sounds of hundreds of zombies crashing through the first floor maintenance door echoed below and mixed with those of splintering skyway door wood. A Dead arm broke through. Deandra made her stand atop the stairway. She shouldered her shotgun and waited.

A zombie charged up the stairs. In life, the obese woman would have lumbered like an oaf, but in death, she sprinted with surprising agility. More zombies assembled in rows behind her and a Galla's horn sounded the attack.

Deandra's first two shots shredded the obese zombie's legs. The creature toppled backward, crashing like a giant bowling ball into the advancing horde. Dozens rolled down with the fat zombie, collecting others along the way. They landed in a squirming pile of dead flesh. A flaming bottle sailed past Deandra's head and exploded into the writhing mass. The stairway's bottom erupted in a super-heated flaming ball. A heat wave surged up the stairs, singing Deandra's eyebrows and bringing the stench of burning flesh. A coal-black mushroom cloud billowed toward the ceiling.

Lizzie stood next to Deandra, holding a lit candle and a bottle of napalm. "Wow, napalm kicks ass."

"Toss the other bottle in front of the skyway," Deandra said.

"Sure thing." Lizzie lobbed the napalm over the short brick wall. It erupted against the table-wall and doors.

In the zombie pile below them, dead flesh burned like candle wax, dripping and melting from still moving corpses, fusing them together.

"Did you and Timothy prepare the ritual?"

"Yup, we're good to go."

"Take him, Jim, and Suzy to the subway station and prepare it. Pete and I will turn this floor into a killing zone, and try to melt as many as we can."

"Sounds like a plan. It should only take few minutes to prepare." Lizzie left the candle atop the wall and left with her group.