Blood-Soaked & Invaded

By James Crawford

With the zombie apocalypse taking its toll on his mind, one man faces a greater threat from above in this sequel to Blood Soaked and Contagious.

Zombies were bad enough, but now we’re being invaded from all sides. Up to our necks in blood, body parts, and unanswerable questions . . .

. . . As soon as the realization hit me, I lost my cool. I curled into the fetal position in a pile of blood, offal, and body parts, and froze there. What in the Hell was I becoming that killing was entertaining and satisfying?

I don’t know how long I was on my side in the remains of my opponents, but the mess was coagulating and getting cold . . . to say nothing of the smell of sliced-open bowels. There were periodic noises suggesting violence around and about where I was glued to the ground by noxious goop, but I couldn’t even raise my face to take a look around. My brain spun around and around, propelled by unanswered questions and abject horror.

The person I thought I was—a guy who does what he has to do when the chips are down—had been replaced by someone I didn’t know and it made me terribly afraid . . .

Praise for Blood Soaked and Contagious

“I give it an “EW!” factor of +10!” —Diana Gabaldon, #1 New York Times–bestselling author of the Outlander Series

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Feb 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781618681096

James Crawford

James Crawford is a writer and broadcaster. His first major book, Fallen Glory: The Lives and Deaths of History’s Greatest Buildings was shortlisted for the Saltire Literary Award for best non-fiction. His other books include Who Built Scotland: 25 Journeys in Search of a Nation, Scotland’s Landscapes and The Edge of the Plain: How Borders Make and Break Our World. His most recent book is Wild History: Journeys into Lost Scotland. In 2019 he was named as the Archive and Records Association’s first-ever 'Explore Your Archives' Ambassador. He lives in Edinburgh.

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JAMES CRAWFORD

A PERMUTED PRESS book

published at Smashwords.

ISBN (trade paperback): 978-1-61868-108-9

ISBN (eBook): 978-1-61868-109-6

Blood Soaked and Invaded copyright © 2011, 2013

by James Crawford.

All Rights Reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author and publisher.

Version 3.30.13.1.

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Chapter 1

Someone was singing, but I couldn’t understand the words. To me, it was just melody and music without any context. Don’t get me wrong: the emotional content wasn’t lost on me. It was loving, but sad, and somehow gave me the feeling I wanted to be near whatever it was the song was about.

I opened my eyes, and she was there. Her voice was making the music, and the emotions behind it were carved into her face and posture as surely as a sculptor hacks shapes out of marble. Of course, at the time, I would never have been able to describe it, mostly due to having taken a bullet to the forehead the day before. All I could do in the moment of recognizing her, with those high and sad emotions, was lift myself off the floor and put my head in her lap.

Salty water dripped on the side of my nose from somewhere above me and the words and images for rain and tears slid around inside my mind, but couldn’t connect to one another. I wanted to make a noise, so I opened my mouth and inhaled. The salty water went up my nostril, and I sneezed instead.

This upset the singer deeply, because she gave a little scream and shifted position.

Oh God! Frank, are you okay?

It was pretty clear that she was talking to me, even if I didn’t understand the words. I didn’t know what the fuss was about, because the water in my nose was gone, along with some kind of blockage I hadn’t been aware of. The only drawback was that my face and her knee were wet. When I reached up to wipe my face, my hands came away pink and sticky.

Sticky doesn’t feel good.

Shit! Honey, sit up. Please? Ok. Let me wipe your face off, so just sit still. She sat me up, and not having anything else to react to, I just sat and looked at the colors on my hands. All right, let Charlie see what’s going on. I let her lift my face and run a cool cloth under my nose.

The cloth was now pink, moist and sticky, too. It seemed as though cloth shouldn’t look like that, but no ideas condensed into words I could use. Instead of making wry commentary, or even issuing a statement in the form of a resounding grunt, I simply sat and let her wipe my hands off.

Baby, I hope you didn’t just sneeze brains. She held my face still and looked into my eyes. Her eyes were bloodshot and moist, which didn’t indicate anything particularly positive from where I was sitting. I really don’t know what to do. Omura says that you’re going to recover and that I should keep interacting with you, but he didn’t say anything about sticky pink snot. We should go see Jayashri, she said, standing up and holding her hand down for me to grab onto. Come on, Frank. Let’s go see the doctor. Hmm? That’s it.

I took her hand, and we left the room that we’d been sleeping in.

Stairs made sense to me, because we’d gone up them and it seemed appropriate that one should go down them after having gone up. No reason to complain there. I did notice something while we were descending, and I knew that I needed to take care of it before we went anywhere. There was a room here specifically used for such things, and I was pleased that I remembered it.

What? She asked me as I took off toward the magical room, towing her behind me. When we got to the room, I slipped the cloth off my lower half and sat down on the white chair with a hole in the seat. It was precisely where I wanted to be. Oh. You remember how to use a toilet. That’s really great, Frank! Can you let my hand go before you wipe?

While I can understand, in retrospect, what was going on, the noises she made while I sat on the commode didn’t make any sense. I was aware of three things that were the sole and complete content of my mind at that moment. First of all, I was sitting on the white chair and the pressures in my lower abdomen were being taken care of. Second, my person was with me. I could deal with noises that didn’t make any sense, as long as my person of choice was all right and nearby. The third thing was a baseline need and awareness equal to #1.

I was hungry.

In time, the hind end of my digestive system gurgled to a halt, and we learned that I still remembered the required hygiene procedures for the Water Closet. Charlie made positive sounding noises at me, and everything was right with my world. She led me out of the hardware store while she provided positive reinforcement for my potty performance.

The morning sunlight outside the store was bright, and I squinted up at the big ball of luminescent annoyance. As I looked up, something in the back of my head told me that something was about to be wrong. Something not right was nearby, and coming closer with every heartbeat.

Looking at Charlie, I understood she didn’t know what I knew. I didn’t have any reasonable way to communicate with her, so I growled a warning. Standing there with her, growling, and facing Route 29, I must have seemed like a sinister Irish setter.

Honey, what’s wrong? I spared her a glance, and I watched the knowledge dawn on her face. Now she knew what I knew. Shit. Frank, stay right here. Here. Okay? I’m gonna run back inside for just a minute. Don’t move. Stay right here!

For all I knew, she could have been reciting from the collected works of John Donne, but I stayed put when she let go of my hand and disappeared back into the building. Eight heartbeats later, I was a Bad Frank, because I saw the intruder across the street, bellowed a warning at him, and then took off to defend my territory.

He raised his weapon and fired at me as I propelled myself across the road, leaping the bodies that were still piled around from the days before. I was hit three times, but didn’t care or slow down. He dropped the gun when I closed the distance, screamed unintelligible things at me, and raked my face with his oversize fingernails. The stench of his breath made my nose close up shop and move to Alaska.

Feeling claws shred my cheek didn’t add anything delightful to the experience, but that’s the price you pay for being up close and personal. Even without my usual excess of brainpower, I managed to pay him back for the discomfort with my fists and was grimly satisfied when his right eye socket crumbled underneath my knuckles. I don’t think he was as pleased about that turn of events as I was.

You fucking bastard! He yelled at me, groping for something on his belt. I didn’t quite know what the knife was when he drew it, yet something about the gleam of steel in sunlight communicated the potential menace with astounding clarity.

I snarled and found my body moving, blending with his attack. My arms locked his, forcing the blade back toward his neck and sinking it in to the hilt. He made nasty, thick noises as his mouth filled up with carmine sludge. His desire to kill me gave way to panic in the face of dying a second time. The only response it drew from me was a very satisfied, predatory smile.

When his body went limp, I pulled the blade out of his neck, having learned that knives cut, and severed his head. With intense satisfaction, I bashed it against the curb. The cracking sounds made me giggle.

Whatever else I knew or didn’t know, it was clear that I’d retained my toilet skills and the proper method to dispatch the undead. Not bad. Not bad.

My opponent’s skull finally gave up. Chuckling, I unzipped my pants and pissed on his naked brain.

Frank, taking a wee on your enemies isn’t nice!

When I finished my victory deposit, I turned around to find Charlie watching from the other side of the street. Her tone of voice and facial expressions didn’t match, and I stood there with my happy bits akimbo, wondering what she was attempting to communicate.

I didn’t wait too long. Charlie came over and took me by the hand and led me back across the street, muttering something about men not being able to wait to get their groove on and fools rushing in where others fear to tread. As for me, I was still grinning about successfully ruining my opponent and establishing my dominance by voiding my bladder on the still-warm corpse of my conquest.

Funny how a bullet in the noggin can release such primal things!

A huge man was waiting on the other side of the street for us. He had a ball cap on his head, brim pointing backward, and it didn’t do a single thing to keep the long blond hair from blowing around his face in the morning breeze. His scent was very similar to Charlie’s in some way. I think that made me less inclined to defend my territory.

Sis, I don’t mean to pry, but why is our boy walkin’ around with his junk dangling out his pants? You could barely see his single raised eyebrow behind the hair, arching dramatically over a sour expression.

She squeaked and tried to pantomime to me that I should concern myself with reassembling my couture. I wasn’t having anything of it, and walked right up to Shawn’s barrel chest instead. He looked down at me, face full of questions.

He has a really strange look on his face, Charlie.

You think I know what he’s gonna do? He had a hunk of his brain blown out yesterday and it doesn’t look like there’s a whole lot going on in what he’s got left!

Shit! Shawn’s face softened, looking down at me. This nanotech stuff is scary as hell. I mean–he’s unpredictable enough when he’s got all his brains. What’s he gonna do next?

Yeah. She scratched her head with a free finger. You know, he probably doesn’t remember you, and is trying to figure out who you are.

Grunting, Shawn pointed a finger at my nose. You, Frank. The sausage of a finger changed direction, pointing at his nose. Me, Shawn. Right?

I can’t figure out if he understands language or not. He does get emotions, and does show some of his own. Omura says that he’ll probably come back, but he might be more like Buttons.

Frank really would hate to come back like that asshole. Glancing down at me, several emotions flew back and forth across his face. One of them might have been pity. I think he’d rather not come back if he had to be that way.

Shawn, if I don’t have something to hold on to, I’m gonna go nuts. I could hear the stress in her voice, but I didn’t turn around. Something about Shawn had my full attention. I don’t want to think I had someone and then lost him in less than a week.

One of these days, I want to sit down with you so you can explain to me how you fell so hard for a guy you’d never met before. It doesn’t make sense to me, Shawn said, looking over my shoulder.

That’s when I wrapped my arms around him and stuffed my nose in his armpit.

FUCK! Shawn convulsed in my grip like a super-sized tuna on the deck of a fishing scow. He’s huggin’ me and sniffin’ my pit!

Just relax. At least he isn’t humpin’ your leg.

What do I do if he starts?

Chapter 2

It was a good question, now that I think about it. Had I been functional at the time, Shawn’s terrified squeak would have dissolved me into a goopy puddle of guffaws and I would have given his thigh the old What fer! just for the fun of it. At the time, all I did was let him go, step back and grin at him.

With my nose, I’d officially acknowledged him as one of my people, related to my primary person and not anyone to arouse suspicion. I was content. Shawn and Charlie were mystified.

Smiling, I stuffed my bits behind my zipper and secured the hatch. The Cooper siblings appeared greatly reassured.

Charlie explained to her brother that we’d been heading over to Jayashri’s to get an opinion on my slimy mucus. He nodded, looking a little green, but didn’t say a thing. The three of us walked on, not saying anything, until we got to our neighbor’s front door.

For once we actually had to knock. In all the time that I’d known the Sharmas, their ability to be right there before you even decide to rap on their door was as uncanny as it was subtly unsettling. People aren’t supposed to be that aware of their neighbors, or so attuned to an arrival that they could be waiting in advance. Then again, for all I knew they tuned the boards of their front porch to squeak when weight was placed on them. It was a question that I never thought to ask, so it remained a mystery.

Bajali answered the door, looking haggard, as though he’d not slept a wink since we liberated him the day before.

Hi Baj, Charlie said quietly, letting go of my hand and hugging him gently.

Good morning, Charlie. Shawn, he said, looking at me over Charlie’ shoulder and it was the saddest expression that I can remember seeing. Frank. Is there anything I can do for you?

We dropped by to ask Jaya if she could look up Frank’s nose.

That is a very interesting request, Shawn. If I’m not mistaken, Bajali’s eyes crossed ever so slightly. I will fetch her for you. Please come in and be at home.

We settled ourselves in the living room and watched him disappear into the kitchen. Charlie turned to her brother and sighed heavily.

He doesn’t look good.

Well, from what I got from Omura last night, he don’t have much reason to look perky. I mean, sure, y’all brought him home, but his stay with Frank’s daddy weren’t all that sociable.

No. I’m guessing that it wasn’t. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and I certainly didn’t complain. Did you notice that your accent’s gotten thicker? What’s bugging you?

Is that my kid sis that’s askin’, or is it my kid sis, the Psych Major?

Knocker, I’m both and you know it. I’m just worried about you.

I fuckin’ hate that nickname. The barrel chest expanded and propelled a giant sigh into the room. He popped the cap off and shook out his hair, suddenly looking like Cousin It. It’s been a rough couple of days. We got pounded while y’all were out rescuin’ our science boy. When you guys come back, y’all tell us Frank got a chunk of his brains blown out, and Bajali got a ton of ass-sugar from Frank’s Mommy and her friends. Now, we’ve got a bunch of angry ‘Eaters’ out there and we don’t know when or if they’ll hit us back. It is freakin’ me out to hell and back.

Jayashri floated into the room on Shawn’s last words. What are ‘Eaters’, Shawn?

Hey J. Well, it’s what we started calling the zombies just yesterday. The boys and I decided that they’re not really ZOMBIES because they don’t wander around doing the whole… he rolled his eyes back in his head, stuck his arms straight out and intoned, … ‘BRAAAAINNNS! Uhhhhhh! Braiiiins’, thing.

Jayashri shuddered, frowning. Please do not ever make that face again, if you value my sanity. Not even if it is Halloween. It is much too disturbing!

My body stood up.

The strangest thing about looking back at the memories from my… recuperation… is that I don’t have any rationale for anything that I did. There isn’t a mental record of my thought processes, and I find that it is a stark contrast to at least having some sort of general feel for why I did any particular thing. I guess that I was working on instinct as much as anything else that might have been sloshing around in there.

The body that my conscious mind wasn’t using walked over to Jayashri, knelt down at her feet and wrapped its arms around her waist. I remember the feeling of her fingers in my hair, gently caressing my scalp, and it felt like the surface tension of my emotions broke. A salve to my conscience is that she was wearing jeans that day, not a silk sari, because I would hate, even in retrospect, to have wept on silk.

Oh my goodness, Frank! Jaya put both her hands on my shaking head and tried to sink to the floor with me, but my grip on her waist was far too strong for her to do anything more than slouch. Please show me how I can help you!

He can’t, Charlie told her, with a voice that began to crack with emotion. He can’t talk. I don’t even know how much he can think or understand.

Jayashri reached down and forced me to look up at her, and I saw her tears through the blurriness created by the waterworks on either side of my nose. Why are you crying? You brought my husband home to me, just as you said you would, she stopped speaking, and seemed to realize something, but your whole family is gone. Oh, I am so sorry! Her gentle weeping gave way to something more brutal.

I let her sink to the floor in front of me and we curled up, holding on to one another until the storm could pass.

All right, y’all. Quit it, or I’m gonna start gettin’ misty over here.

Shawn, you’re just bitchin’ because crying like a baby isn’t macho, Charlie said. She gave a dramatic sniffle to punctuate her comment. We’re just letting out all the feelings that have crawled up our asses.

Come on! It ain’t like I’m not moved by all this, but we did come over here to have Jaya look up his nose. Right?

Well, yeah. We were going to come over to your place and get some coffee before scrounging in your larder, too, but we got sidetracked.

Damn it, Chuck, can’t you mooch off someone else?

Don’t call me ‘Chuck’ or I swear by my pretty pink nipples I’ll nut you.

I will digress, and tell you for a fact that Charlie’s nipples are pretty. They’re my favorites, really. Chunhua’s are pretty swanky, too… At least the set she ended up with when the nanotechnology reversed her aging. I try really hard not to think of the other set. Honest.

You Americans are so casually violent with your siblings, Jayashri commented, her head pressed against mine. The first people that one should be generous with are your family members. You are our family, and I will make us coffee and food after I have examined our Francis’ nose.

With a little effort, she extricated herself from my mindless embrace, made the universal Stay There gesture to me and went to fetch something in another room. By that point, I’d turned off my face faucet and was sitting on their hardwood floor with the passivity of a man that has been through the emotional wringer. The one thing I can say for being brain damaged in that way is my actions and emotions lined up with a kind of congruency that I never experienced before or since.

Score one for brain damage.

Jayashri came back into the room with one of those cute little lighted things that doctors use to look up your nose and in your ears. She checked the battery by shining light on her hand, and looked up at us with some confusion.

I seem to have forgotten why I should be looking up his nose.

Charlie related the morning’s episode of pink sticky snot, and told her not to worry about my bloodstained clothes. I’d dispatched an interloper and made a mess of myself.

Ah. I do not know what it says about me, but I find bloody clothing less of a concern than I did a few days ago, Jayashri said, cupping my chin in her hand and raising my face up for easier access to my nostrils. I didn’t resist when the cold black plastic went up my nose. Well, I do see some irritation and one or two small blood clots. She shifted to my left nostril and commented, This is about what you would expect to see in any patient who was experiencing sinus inflammation from breathing cold air or a nasty cold… Of course, there would be mucus if it were a rhinovirus.

Ok, but did he blow brains out his nose earlier? Charlie asked.

Without a sample and a microscope, I would not be able to tell you. As odd as it might be to say so, I am going to make the assumption that if his body got rid of it, then it was not something that it needed. Remember, I am much more accustomed to people who are not superhuman. They are not as mobile and functional after traumatic ballistic impacts to their frontal lobes. She shrugged.

Her answer mollified Charlie a little, but I could feel her concern from across the room, even if it didn’t make a single lick of sense to me. Jayashri sat back on her haunches, and flicked the light back and forth in front of my eyes, making me wince slightly.

On a positive note, his pupils are reactive and symmetrical. Bright light makes him want to close his eyes. I should ask, out of curiosity, did he have a bowel movement yet?

What’s that got to do with a bullet to the head? Shawn queried, shuffling around in the chair.

We doctors joke that voiding your bowels is a sign of life. She chuckled a little bit, adding, The irony is it is also a sign of death. If Francis’ body is working, it will be processing bodily waste products. Feces. Urine.

He made a trip to the potty on the way over here, Charlie squeamishly commented. I was pretty surprised that he understood toilet paper and flushing. Then he took a pee on the brains of the intruder that we almost had.

Almost had?

I turned around to go get a gun, and when I did, he hightailed it across the street and took the bastard down.

I see. It is good to know that some of his memories remain, along with a few learned behaviors and that his body is making waste products. Jaya looked thoughtful for a minute, smiled, and said, Of course, urinating on an opponent is a fair indicator the old Frank we know is in here somewhere!

She tapped me on the head, and I gave her a smile.

I dunno J. He acts more like a trained monkey than Frank.

Shawn, I received the same update from Omura that everyone else did after they brought my husband home. The nanotechnology will likely repair Frank’s brain over time, and everyone should participate in his recovery by interacting with him often. Charlie is his ‘handler’, and so on.

I know, I know. Seeing my friend like this freaks me out, and I’m wishing for a way to hurry his recovery.

There was a female chorus of affirmative noises and a heavy silence. I, of course, added nothing to either of those.

I do not wish to add more to your responsibilities than you already have, Jayashri began, but I would like to ask a favor of you, Charlie.

Anything, honey!

Shawn, would you take Frank out to the porch for just a few minutes before I start breakfast? Jayashri stood up and helped me up once she gained her feet. I would like to speak with Charlie alone for a moment or two.

Oh-kayyyy. He didn’t sound thrilled, but stood up and took my hand in his oversize paw. Come on Frank, we need to step outside for a few. Got it? Just a few.

I followed him without resistance, mostly because nothing appeared to be threatening and Charlie seemed to be okay with it. I’m fairly sure that if she had expressed anything remotely negative I would have reacted poorly.

Poorly? Read: mindless violence.

The two of us stood there in the cool morning air, not interacting very much. Shawn smelled of something acrid and gastrointestinal, which my nose found interesting but my brain couldn’t classify. After some minutes of silence, he started humming a tune.

Ok, man, you gotta know that one. Your turn, he said to me.

I responded with a blank look. The old me had one of those for every occasion, but the brain damaged me had a limited repertoire of facial expressions.

You know. You gotta! Here, listen again! He hummed it louder, and I had no response to give him, which seemed to frustrate him. All right, but only `cause it’s you, he said and broke out into a little song and dance. I wanna go where fashion sits… C’mon, dude! Your part!

I gave him a look of utter and complete lack of comprehension.

PUTTIN’ ON THE RITZ! He hollered it right in my face, as if it was going to make a difference. My inability to respond had the best of me.

He stepped back, looked deep into my eyes and let out the Sigh of the Criminally Neglected. I was hoping to get a little Mel Brooks action out of you. ‘Young Frankenstein’ is one of your favorite movies. No dice, huh? Shit.

Looking back, neither Shawn nor I got a blip on our internal systems that Chunhua was nearby, much less at the bottom of the porch steps, and it ought to have been something of a clue. Regardless, both of us nearly shat ourselves when we heard her say, You could have tried the ‘Roll, roll, roll in the hay, part. Frank likes to roll in the hay!"

Chuuuuun, Shawn tried to stutter, but got locked into the first syllable.

Hello, sweetie. You got up very early.

I would have raised an eyebrow or two, had I been completely present for a statement like that. As it was, I observed quietly, and sniffed the air. Shawn smelled a little unsettled. The woman at the bottom of the steps didn’t smell like anything. I doubt, had I been blindfolded and stuffed with earplugs, that I would have known she was there at all.

Yeah, well. I felt a little odd and wanted to, his hesitation spoke volumes, go see how Frank was doing.

Shawn, I wasn’t born yesterday. We had a very stressful night, repelling the zombies, and then you and I slept together. She held up her hand with her fingers splayed out. Based on my years of experience, you getting up before me is an indicator for a number of possibilities. Oh my goodness, I just fucked the hell out of an older woman. One finger folded down. I have intense intimacy issues. Another finger followed the downward progression. I think that I strayed into a very touchy situation and am embarrassed. The third finger folded. I really don’t know what to do now, because I’d like to do it again as frequently as possible. I have to say, older women are amazing in the sack. She waved her pinkie finger in the air, to add emphasis to her final theory, which was, Oh my God, she knows that I am a premature ejaculator!

I could feel the heat of Shawn’s blush from where I stood, watching the exchange evolve like a tourist watching people haggle in Tunisia.

I am not a premature ejaculator! He probably should not have bellowed that quite as loudly as he did.

The door behind us opened. Charlie, Jaya and Baj stood there, crowded into the doorway, eyes bugged out and intensely interested in the drama that had begun to unfold in the morning stillness.

Chunhua’s almond eyes disappeared behind her curved eyelids as she dissolved into giggles. No. You certainly don’t have that problem! Still giggling, she ran her hands down her sides with a little wriggle of glee. Not at all! I just wanted to get your attention so you don’t fill your head full of crap.

Charlie said, I’m going to go back into the kitchen and do SOMETHING because I’m feeling a little odd about this. You guys want to come with me?

Bajali and Jaya made little affirmative noises and formed a little conga line behind her as she scooted into the other room. I stood there like the lump that I was.

Damn, baby! That was an awful thing to say.

Well, don’t sneak out of bed again. You could have visited the Forbidden City before you left, and I bet you would have found new delights before breakfast, too... Clouds! Rain! Pearls on jade steps! The arching dragon victorious over the subdued monkey!

Um!

We’ll talk about it later. I want to give Frank a hug. Do you think he’ll let me?

I don’t know. Give it a try and see. I’m pretty sure he won’t go all nasty on you.

I don’t even want to know what you mean by that. Chunhua walked up the steps, and stopped about two feet from me. Frank, I don’t know if you can understand me, but I hope you remember that I’m your friend and I care about you very much. She reached out and took my hands in hers. "See? I want to