Zombies! (Episode 7): Conflicts of Interest Read Online Free
Author: Ivan Turner
Tags: Zombies
a zombie that was scared. It was getting time to look past the George Romero definition of zombies. Both the screamer and the shooter were long gone, dissected and analyzed in the laboratories beneath Arthur Conroy Memorial Hospital . But this one…
"Do we have someplace we can keep her?"
"You mean besides Arthur Conroy? "
Heron nodded. "I want to watch her myself."
"Can't you…" but Smith stopped himself. If Heron didn't want to entrust Linda into the care of Dr. Luco then there was a reason for it. "I'll set something up in the basement at headquarters."
"Good," Heron said. "Until then, just keep a guard on her here. Get guards who don't get easily spooked. I don't want her being accidentally shot."
"Will do, lieutenant."
"I'm glad you called me, Smith. Good job."
***
PUSH UPS was quiet. It was after the morning rush and most of the crowd had finished their workout and gone on to their jobs. Abby was left with a couple of people who worked odd schedules or didn't work at all. She didn't know them well, but recognized them as regulars. They weren't interested in having conversations, just listening to their music and running their treadmill or elliptical. That was all right with Abby. After the morning, she was all talked out. Being friendly with most of the clients was good for business but it made it difficult for her to get any work done.
Shortly after ten o'clock, the door opened and in walked Anthony Heron. She hadn't seen him in a few weeks and had figured that their friendship, borne of a mutual interest in zombies, had sort of fizzled as their lives went in other directions. After a few cases of the zombie infection had been linked to Push Ups , he'd asked her to be on the lookout for any trouble. Since Suzanna DeForest, there had been no others so she hadn't had a reason to call him. And clearly, he'd had no reason to call on her.
"I was in the neighborhood," he explained with a grin. "Sorry I haven't been in touch."
"That's all right. Everyone's busy."
The truth was that she was feeling somewhat guilty. The week before, she'd gotten involved in a movement to counter the Zombie Rights Association. It had all seemed harmless at the time but something had gone horribly wrong. Peter Ventura, a doctor who had been trapped in the Sisters of Mercy ER with her had recruited her to post signs on zombie safe houses. On the news the next morning, she saw that there had been a fire at the building where they'd put up the signs. Peter swore up and down that he was not responsible for the fire but that didn't mean the signs weren't. A firefighter had been killed. For two days she had cried and Martin, her husband, hadn't known why. She blamed it on hormones and trauma, both of which she had to spare.
"How are things here?" Heron asked.
Abby shrugged. "Normal, I suppose. Or whatever passes for normal these days. How's your job?"
He grinned. "It's killing me. It's bad enough fighting zombies but now we're pinched between the zombie rights nutjobs and a new group that's on the other end of the spectrum."
Abby tried to hide her startled look. "What group?"
He dismissed it. "Nevermind. I didn't come in to talk about zombies. I came in to see a normal face and have a normal conversation. Tell me about Martin and Sammy."
She wanted to press him, but she didn't know why. She knew exactly what he was talking about. By coming into the gym to talk to her he had unwittingly put her in a very awkward position. She respected Anthony Heron and the job he did. She knew that it was because of him that they had overridden the lockdown on the ER when she had been trapped. She knew that he fought hard every day to keep the city as safe as it could be. And yet she still went along with Peter, who said the police and the government were hastening the apocalypse by doing nothing. Heron had used
"Do we have someplace we can keep her?"
"You mean besides Arthur Conroy? "
Heron nodded. "I want to watch her myself."
"Can't you…" but Smith stopped himself. If Heron didn't want to entrust Linda into the care of Dr. Luco then there was a reason for it. "I'll set something up in the basement at headquarters."
"Good," Heron said. "Until then, just keep a guard on her here. Get guards who don't get easily spooked. I don't want her being accidentally shot."
"Will do, lieutenant."
"I'm glad you called me, Smith. Good job."
***
PUSH UPS was quiet. It was after the morning rush and most of the crowd had finished their workout and gone on to their jobs. Abby was left with a couple of people who worked odd schedules or didn't work at all. She didn't know them well, but recognized them as regulars. They weren't interested in having conversations, just listening to their music and running their treadmill or elliptical. That was all right with Abby. After the morning, she was all talked out. Being friendly with most of the clients was good for business but it made it difficult for her to get any work done.
Shortly after ten o'clock, the door opened and in walked Anthony Heron. She hadn't seen him in a few weeks and had figured that their friendship, borne of a mutual interest in zombies, had sort of fizzled as their lives went in other directions. After a few cases of the zombie infection had been linked to Push Ups , he'd asked her to be on the lookout for any trouble. Since Suzanna DeForest, there had been no others so she hadn't had a reason to call him. And clearly, he'd had no reason to call on her.
"I was in the neighborhood," he explained with a grin. "Sorry I haven't been in touch."
"That's all right. Everyone's busy."
The truth was that she was feeling somewhat guilty. The week before, she'd gotten involved in a movement to counter the Zombie Rights Association. It had all seemed harmless at the time but something had gone horribly wrong. Peter Ventura, a doctor who had been trapped in the Sisters of Mercy ER with her had recruited her to post signs on zombie safe houses. On the news the next morning, she saw that there had been a fire at the building where they'd put up the signs. Peter swore up and down that he was not responsible for the fire but that didn't mean the signs weren't. A firefighter had been killed. For two days she had cried and Martin, her husband, hadn't known why. She blamed it on hormones and trauma, both of which she had to spare.
"How are things here?" Heron asked.
Abby shrugged. "Normal, I suppose. Or whatever passes for normal these days. How's your job?"
He grinned. "It's killing me. It's bad enough fighting zombies but now we're pinched between the zombie rights nutjobs and a new group that's on the other end of the spectrum."
Abby tried to hide her startled look. "What group?"
He dismissed it. "Nevermind. I didn't come in to talk about zombies. I came in to see a normal face and have a normal conversation. Tell me about Martin and Sammy."
She wanted to press him, but she didn't know why. She knew exactly what he was talking about. By coming into the gym to talk to her he had unwittingly put her in a very awkward position. She respected Anthony Heron and the job he did. She knew that it was because of him that they had overridden the lockdown on the ER when she had been trapped. She knew that he fought hard every day to keep the city as safe as it could be. And yet she still went along with Peter, who said the police and the government were hastening the apocalypse by doing nothing. Heron had used
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