Shero II: Zombie A GoGo

By Jack Wallen

Excuse me...but have you bothered to read the first Shero book? No? I'll wait. Seriously, I'll grab a snack and wait here.

Done? That was quick. Okay, now...where was I? Oh yes, yes:

Glam!
Bam!
Thank you ma'am!

Everyone's favorite transgendered superhero is back and this time it's all about the zombie! That's right ladies, not only is Shero fighting off cats and whores at shoe sales, now it's time to deal with the undead.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack Wallen
• Release date: Jul 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476153582

Jack Wallen

Jack Wallen is what happens when a Gen Xer mind-melds with present day snark. Jack is a seeker of truth and a writer of words with a quantum mechanical pencil and a disjointed beat of sound and soul. Although he resides in the unlikely city of Louisville, Kentucky, Jack likes to think of himself more as an interplanetary traveler, on the lookout for the Satellite of Love and a perpetual movie sign...or so he tells the reflection in the mirror (some times in 3rd person). Jack is the author of numerous tales of dark, twisty fiction including the I Zombie series, the Klockwerk Movement, the Fringe Killer series, Shero, The Nameless Saga, and much more.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Yeargh!!!

KillSwitch stared through the six-inch plexi-plate that stood between him and his newest experiment.

Bleargh!!!

The sounds coming from the other side of the window were gruesome. But it wasn't just the sounds. Oh no...if only. The sights looked as though they were pulled directly from Dr. Frankenstein's wet dreams. A fiendish, goggled mad doctor hovering over a too-ripe, re-animated corpse. Fortunately, for the fiend, the corpse was bound tight.

Gwargh!!!

He knew it was a hideous idea...but hideous was what he did best. And KillSwitch did relish pain and a good dastardly plan. Especially when said dastardly plan involved much mayhem, chaos, and the possible destruction of the newly formed Sentinel.

You remember Sentinel, from the first book, don't you? From the first book? No? Maybe now is a good time to put this book down and pick up the first book. When you're done with that you can come back. Don't worry sweet cheeks, I'll wait. I have all the time in the world. That is...unless KillSwitch destroys said world, in which case it won't matter which book you read because you'll most likely be dead. So what the hell, throw caution to the wind and continue on with this story.

Now, where were we? Oh yes...

Ahhhhhhhhrgh!!!

The man on the stainless steel lab table was wrenching his arms up in an attempt to break free of the woven Kevlar bindings holding him down. It wouldn't work. There were a few superheroes and super villains that could break the weft and weave of Kevlar, but no mortal man. Not even when the mortal mans' very DNA was being toyed with.

Doctor Mengele (Yes that Mengele, KillSwitch had him cloned. It was very wrong, but what do you expect from a super villain?) made an adjustment to the brain stem Z-serum feed. He looked to KillSwitch. The look would have snapped the sanity of a mere mortal. The look was born of Hitler’s regime where the experiments were not meant to bring new life to dead tissue, quite the opposite.

Death was Mengele's mistress. Mengele, deaths' bitch.

The specimen began convulsing hard. The left hand somehow broke free of the Kevlar strap. The specimen's greenish brown fingers found purchase on Mengele's neck. The cold hand squeezed the breath from Mengele's lungs. Mengele's own hands desperately reached out to find something, anything, to fend off the immensely powerful grip. Mengele's fingers found nothing but air – practically mocking his lungs. Mengele's eyes began to roll back into his head. But before the cold, black heart in Josef's chest could beat it's last inhuman beat the specimen exploded. Sticky fluid and meaty chunks splattered the room as if Jackson Pollack spontaneously combusted while composing his latest work.

Splat!

KillSwitch looked on in disbelief as chunks of liver and spleen slowly slid down the plexi-plate window. Another failed attempt at creating what would finally bring down Sentinel. Failure. It wasn't a word KillSwitch enjoyed knowing. He wanted the word stricken from his memory. He had no time for failure. And yet here he was, staring failure in the green-goo eyes. KillSwitch took several deep breaths – a technique he learned during his last therapy session.

What, you think super villains don't go to therapy? You've got a lot to learn.

Mengele slowly stood and wiped the cadaver slime from his kitschy, Nazi goggles. Der Mann ist nicht ein Zombie. Mengele screamed. The veins in his neck bulged as if they were about to explode themselves. Mengele stared around the room taking it all in. Then he did something KillSwitch never expected, he scooped out a handful of gore from the experiment's now-open chest, put his hand to his lips and ate the gore. After licking his hand clean he then proceeded to bury his face in the hole in the chest of the specimen. Mengele lapped at the cold, dead skin as if he were nothing more than a dog cleaning his own wound.

Der Mann is nicht ein Zombie! Mengele screamed at the top of his lungs. Ich bin ein Zombie! Ich bin ein Zombie!

Another clone lost. KillSwitch had already gone through four Mengele clones. Something had always managed to snap the sanity of the clones. He had hoped this latest would survive to see the end of KillSwitch's master plan. But no, looks like he would have to cook up another clone.

KillSwitch tapped his com badge.

What, too Star Trekky for you? Okay fine.

KillSwitch tapped the call button on the wall-com panel.

Better? Good.

Send in another clean-up crew.

KillSwitch left the viewing room, plodded to his office, and immediately picked up the phone. Send Cortex to my office. He hated this. KillSwitch had a master plan to undertake. Exploding corpses and babbling, drooling clones would never get him the power he so self-righteously deserved. KillSwitch closed his eyes and breathed. And breathed...and breathed.

It didn't work. The damned breathing exercises did nothing more than make him light headed. Great, on top of all this I have to find a new therapist.

Before KillSwitch could breathe himself into hyperventilation Cortex entered his office.

You wanted to see me?

Of course I wanted to see you. If I didn't, would I have sent for you? KillSwitch snapped. Cortex just stood in the doorway of the office looking confused.

Sorry, I'm under a bit of stress what with my master plan falling to pieces this very moment.

Cortex entered the room and sat down on an early sixteenth century wing-back chair. Lush. Posh. Sexy (You're expecting a dated reference to the Spice Girls' here aren't you? Well, you're not going to get it.)

What can I do? Cortex spoke softly. One of Cortex' powers was his ability to calm with his voice alone. Some didn't see it so much as a power but a gift. Cortex, however, knew how useful the power was (in both battle and bed).

I need another Mengele. Beta 4 snapped. It seemed he nearly had the serum perfected. The specimen was close to reaching full state before it exploded. KillSwitch calmly relayed every bit of information he could before sending Cortex to complete his duties. Cortex could retrieve all necessary data from the lab computers. Cortex assured KillSwitch the next Mengele would succeed with Operation Zombie.

Bwahahahaha!

Cue bizarre, evil techno music.

Chapter 2

Ah, young love. Blushing cheeks, sweaty hands, mascara running down faces of men weeping for joy, such was the case so often with Shero and Fiend. Their friendship had evolved in such short notice it left everyone with a spinning head. But no one complained. It was as if the two were destined, from beginning of time, to love one another. The knowing glances and smiles they shared infected all around them, and tonight was no different. Among a small crowd of fellow diners, Shero and Fiend sat at a corner table at their favorite locale. The food was as divine as 5-denier pantyhose.

Fiend's bare foot found its way up Shero's fine silk skirt and gently rubbed against said 5-deniers as she played a rousing game of fancy schmancy footsie.

Rowr!

Tell me something you've never told me or anyone. Fiend's eyes glittered in the dim light. Her thoughts either sinister or playful, Shero wasn't sure which.

That's a tough one. I do believe I've told you everything about me.

Surely there's some little gem you have tucked back in the recesses of your mind, something – no matter how insignificant, Fiend wants to know. Fiend spoke in the third person indicating to Shero that she meant business. She sneaked her foot a little further up Shero's dress to make sure he knew she was serious.

Rowr. Little kitty wants to play. Shero opened his legs just enough to let Fiends' foot slide a little higher.

How unladylike.

Come on...give me a little something.

Little? Do we really need to go there? Shero winked. Okay...here's a little tidbit you probably don't know. The first time I ever had an orgasm involved a really cheap pair of...

Pantyhose. I know that one already.

Okay let's try again. Shero reached down deep to find something he knew Fiend couldn't possibly know about him. I got it. Way back in high school I actually did have one homosexual experience.

Fiend sat up a little straighter. Oh, do tell.

Shero blushed a bit. For a second he could have passed for a drag queen. But that's not his schtick. So stop thinking it.

It wasn't really anything...I mean...it's not like it's going to set your loins afire.

But I do likes me some homo-erotica.

Shero felt a twinge of embarrassment rising like a warm tide from his bowels to his eyes. But he knew, if this relationship was to be founded in truth and trust, he had to tell all.

I tell you what; to make this easy on you I will offer up a gift. Anything you want from my closet for letting me in on this little secret. Fiend winked at Shero. She knew she had him here. Shero coveted her closet and she knew it. She was just glad he couldn't wear her shoes.

Shero smiled at her. He knew he wouldn't dare raid the closet of closets. But that didn't mean he could make her sweat. I want those one-off Santana open-toed, 5 heel, patent pumps."

Fiend was stopped dead in her tracks. The one-offs were a special gift from Santana himself. She had appeared, at his request, in one of his music videos clad in a liquid latex cat suit that was so sexy a blind man would get an erection by proxy from the seeing man who happened to lay eyes on her. The one-offs had been worn once and then, in a religious-like ceremony placed under sealed glass in her closet. She knew she'd wear them again – at the right time – but until that time they would remain safe from the smudge of human finger prints and the stink of human toes.

Shero picked up on the incredulous reaction. But he wanted to hold out for effect.

Hold.

Hold.

Hold.

Oh Shero you are too, too naughty.

Eventually a giggle escaped from Shero's MAC-glossed lips. Baby, you know I'd never raid your closet...your panty drawer maybe, your closet never.

Fiend's hand crept across the table and gently touched Shero's fingers. The caress spoke volumes. Not Thank you for not taking my prized shoes., but Thank you for being you and being you with me.

It was me and my best high school buddies. We had somehow managed to come across the key to the high school swimming pool and sneaked in one Saturday night. They had just come out in our tight circle of friends and were pretty sure of themselves that I played on their team. That night they decided to see how far they could push the boundaries. I let them push...just a wee bit.

Fiend was in silent rapture at the story. There really was something about Chris she didn't know.

Chris. Within the silent confines of her mind, Fiend referred to Shero by his actual name. It was a rare occasion used only for significance. Fiend cemented the moment in time hoping it would never fade from memory.

After that night they both developed a serious case of crush. When it finally dawned on them that I really wasn't gay, they turned their backs on me. I was crushed. I lost my best friends. But I will never forget that moment. Shero paused to take a sip of his drink. Oh, I almost forgot...they bribed me into doing what I did by promising me they would get me a pair of panties that belonged to this girl I had a huge crush on.

Fiend laughed out loud. I hope you got the panties.

Again Shero blushed. I did. I don't know if they were actually hers but they certainly fed some serious fantasies for me.

The couple shared a boisterous laugh but then noticed a number of fellow diners staring at them. Shero wanted to make a snide comment but knew such behavior was well below the line superheroes