The Dead Spore Collection, page 20
A cry of fury erupted from a building on the other side of the street. Mortimer fired, then cursed as his bolt missed the dog’s head by inches and thudded into the wooden door frame. He jumped to his feet and growled in annoyance at the sight of another dead thing stumbling towards him.
Christ, it was moving at a quick pace. Before he could even notch another bolt, the zombie was almost on him. Mortimer dropped the crossbow and reached for his knife, intending to bury the hilt into its foul forehead. The thing kept on coming, its dead eyes fixed on him, growling and snarling like a rabid animal.
“Come on then, you fucker,” he growled back, crouching down and holding his long blade in his left hand. “Let’s make you truly dead.”
The zombie skidded to a halt and swung its head to the left, towards the dog. It looked to Mortimer like it had decided to go for a meal that wasn’t armed. He straightened his back, watching in astonishment as the dead thing turned and walked over to the animal, completely ignoring the fact that he was just a few meters from it.
Mortimer had never seen anything like it before. In all the years he’d been killing the things, he’d never seen one of them break off a pursuit to go after something else. The dog wasn’t moving, even its tail had stopped wagging. None of this made any sense to him. His unreal day then hit a high point when the dog padded up to the zombie, sat down and held out its paw. Astonishingly, the dead thing slowly bent over and patted its head.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Mortimer whispered. The zombie turned around and shambled back towards the building with the small dog close behind him. Mortimer’s brain casually informed him that the dead thing was the same one that had initially confronted the other human; its long, straggly white hair was unmistakable.
He could no longer afford to gape at the pair, nor could he stay here any longer; the sun was now on its downward slide. He had an hour at best before it got too dark to see. Mortimer picked up his crossbow and paused. The white-haired zombie had yet to disappear; it stood on the opposite side of the street waving at him.
It took him a couple of seconds to focus on the image, as his sight had suddenly gone blurry. His eyelids grew heavy and Mortimer couldn’t stop them from shutting. As soon as the landscape went black, he became aware of a low monotonic noise, which sounded like someone humming.
Harsh white light filled his vision when he was finally able to open his eyes. He squinted and slapped his hand over his eyes and waited for the shock to recede. When he moved his hand back, he gasped at the sight of a soft-looking, slightly pudgy hand. What the fuck was going on? This wasn’t his hand! Where were the scars and the hard calluses? More than that, though, his skin looked freshly scrubbed.
“Oh, there you are, Mortimer,” said a strange voice. “I thought you were never going to come out of that silly contraption. You do know that Martin ate your share of our dinner, just thirty minutes ago.”
His new view was beginning to gain clarity just as his fabricated world and persona faded. “Oh, my heavens,” he whispered. “That was such an intense ride.” He looked up at the wall clock and saw that he’d been under for over two hours. Mortimer then noticed that his brother was still sitting on his hard wooden chair next to the man’s favourite table. He knew from long experience that it was doubtful that Daniel would have moved away from his precious model making during the time that Mortimer had been exploring with his wonderful new toy.
Mortimer rose from his armchair, removed his visor, and placed it down on the black leather seat. Back before The Turning, Mortimer had considered himself to be a pretty decent gamer. Unlike the rest of his online buddies, he’d always believed that a good storyline combined with responsive controls would always trump superior graphics, at least in his opinion.
Thinking back to his progress through the landscape in that incredible simulation, he realized that nothing in his experience could hold a candle to the VR world. What blew his mind more than anything was that he’d actually believed he was there, living in that world.
“Fuck a dead duck,” he said. “Dude, you really need to try this out.” He watched his youngest brother continue to ignore him whilst hunting through the huge multi-colored pile of Lego pieces scattered across the table.
He looked down at his large legs, silently wishing that the physique that he’d imagined himself with in the simulation had come with him when he’d come out of it.
“Why the fuck did I come back to this?”
“It wasn’t your choice.” Daniel selected a grey brick, smiled, and clicked it in place. “Martin unplugged you. He said you looked like a big stupid whale. He also said that you were drooling and that he was going to harpoon you.”
Mortimer fought down the urge to go kick that brown-haired, lanky, weasel-face fuckwit in the balls. Not that it took much persuading. At twenty-seven, Martin was two years senior to the twins. He also had a nasty knack of getting his own back for any trick that either he or Daniel had ever played on him.
Of course, the simple fact that his older brother would kick the living shit out of Mortimer if he did try a frontal assault also played a small part in stopping him from going after Martin. Yet again, he wished that he had been able to keep the muscular frame of his game persona.
“If you go ask him nicely, he might give you back the power supply.” Daniel chuckled to himself. “Although he’ll probably ask you to wear a bib before he’ll part with your precious black plastic box of delight.”
Daniel could fuck off. Mortimer had no interest in anything that he said to him. Why should Mortimer let an almost grown man who still played with Legos bother him?
“Martin told me yesterday that he was going to set your Legos on fire.” He picked up his crossbow and calmly walked towards the huge ornate door that led out of the communal playroom and into the brothers’ bedroom.
He heard his brother’s chair scraping back and slowed down. Mortimer didn’t turn around, despite hearing Daniel catch his breath. He could well imagine what must be going through his brother’s mind. Mortimer made sure that there was no mistaking his intentions by notching a bolt into his weapon. It was odd how this was one weapon that was just the same in the game. Of course, it wasn’t the same one. Now that would be a bit of a mind fuck.
“Do I want to know what you’re going to do with that?”
Mortimer shrugged. “I’m hungry,” he replied. “I’m going to go shoot a dog.” He giggled at his little joke, knowing full well that Daniel wouldn’t have a clue as to the reference. He grabbed the handle and pulled open the door, aware that Daniel was now right beside him.
Even without turning around, Mortimer could tell that Daniel had left his high and mighty attitude back with his silly building blocks. It was about time too. The other Mortimer wouldn’t have tolerated that kind of intolerable behaviour from anyone, especially from both his brothers. Why should he?
He turned his head and gazed into Daniel’s huge, cow-like brown eyes. He looked absolutely terrified. He had good reason to. Martin had always directed the majority of his aggression towards Mortimer’s twin.
Mortimer placed his finger to his lips, then made his way along the vast corridor, remembering how he’d moved in the sim. It didn’t take long for his cat-like movements to resurface. Even with the extra weight, Mortimer found, to his joy, that he could still move quickly without making any noise.
The same couldn’t be said for Daniel, but thankfully, he stayed well behind him. Mortimer passed his own sleeping quarters and crossed to the other side of the corridor. He wanted to ensure that he wasn’t going to be seen. Martin’s private little domain started about a meter from where Mortimer was crouching. Considering what he had planned, Mortimer should have been as terrified as Daniel. If this went down as planned, it wouldn’t be a severe beating. Oh no, his older brother would have murder on his mind. Strange then how it took him a stupid amount of self-control to stop himself from breaking out in a fit of giggles.
He managed to get his emotions back into some sort of order by imagining how the other Mortimer would behave in this situation. That guy would not be acting like some naughty kid about to throw some fireworks into the boy’s bathroom. He took a deep breath and raised himself up, looking towards Martin’s open door.
Judging from the moans and groans coming from inside that room, Mortimer figured that it wouldn’t have mattered how much noise either of them made. Their absent brother wouldn’t have heard them, not in the condition he was in right now.
"Christ on a bike!" gasped Daniel. "Is that sound what I think it is?"
Mortimer nodded grimly and raised the crossbow, listening to his younger brother trying not to throw up. For the first time today, he actually pitied his twin. Unlike Mortimer, Daniel wasn’t trained for this type of scenario. He approached the doorway and kept his finger resting on the trigger, daring not to take any chances. The sounds intensified as Mortimer leaned around the doorframe.
There were two of them, crowded around Martin’s slumped body, both young and female. Their actions disgusted him. Without thinking of the consequences, Mortimer squeezed the trigger. The bolt slammed into the side of the first one, causing her body to crash into a wooden chair next to the slumped man. The remaining woman opened her eyes and pulled her mouth away from Martin's erect cock and screamed out in utter terror.
“How do you like it, Martin?” he shouted, trying not to stare at the girl’s wobbly breasts. Mortimer moved his eyes further down her body and nodded to himself in satisfaction when he saw she was now lying in a puddle of her own piss. His brother had already shuffled his body away from the now weeping female, no doubt not wanting not get any of her bodily fluids on his clothes. “I don’t know what’s worse, you stealing my power supply or calling me names.” He turned his head and saw that his other brother was grinning from ear to ear. In truth, Mortimer did feel like joining him. The sight of Martin trying to get up with his trousers around his ankles was pretty funny.
The half-naked man lunged forward, snatched the crossbow out of Mortimer’s hands, then threw it onto the floor. “What the hell did you have to go and do that for? It’s almost as if you WANT me to punch your big fat head off your shoulders.”
The threat of violence did not send his heart into palpitations like it used to. His other brother had already backed off. He obviously didn’t want to be associated with Mortimer any more, just in case Martin decided that he wanted a beating too. Not that there would be any beating, at least not from Martin’s fists. Perhaps Mortimer really had soaked some of the other him into his real body. He certainly had no fear of Martin, not any more.
“You’re the one who called me a big fat whale. I am big, but I can assure you that it isn’t all fat.” Mortimer picked up his crossbow, not too surprised to find there was no resistance. “Give me back my power supply.”
Martin spun around. "Why are you still here?" he yelled. "You've had your fun. Get out of my sight." He stepped over the dead girl and disappeared further into his bedroom. Mortimer wasn’t all that surprised to watch his brother take his frustration out on the other girl. Now he understood why Daniel had retreated; he would have received both barrels if he’d have stuck around.
The girl took one look at her dead companion before fleeing from the room. It didn't stop her from giving Mortimer a sour glare before she did leave the three of them alone. He thought that her attitude was just rude. The girl ought to be grateful that it wasn't her who was bleeding out all over the tiled floor.
Was it Mortimer’s fault that his older brother couldn’t keep his dick in his pants for more than a couple of hours?
Martin ran after the girl and pleaded with her to stay. By the looks of it, even using his vast reservoir of charm wasn’t going to stop the girl from squeezing her body into the ventilation shaft. Mortimer lowered the crossbow and turned to gaze into the corner of the ceiling. Daniel was convinced that their keepers had placed a camera up there, but he wasn’t convinced; it didn’t stop him from pulling a face, however, just in case they were watching.
“For crying out loud, Mortimer!” Martin yelled, throwing him the stolen power supply. “What’s got into you? Hell, it was just a joke, there was no need to kill her.” He fastened his trousers. “More to the point, what would have happened if you had slipped? That bolt could have smashed into me.”
Mortimer turned the power supply over in his hands, making sure that his brother hadn’t done anything annoying like snipping one of the wires. He wouldn’t put that past the bastard. “Look, you got what you deserved,” he snapped back. It felt pretty good to be treating his older brother like an equal. It was pretty obvious that Martin had no idea how to react to this new situation. Mortimer turned around and left him to his own devices. He wanted to get back to the playroom, eager to immerse himself back into his more desirable world. He hurried back down the corridor.
***
“You had better watch yourself now, Mortimer.” Daniel picked up a Lego figure and stuck the feet to the top of one of his buildings. He carefully pinched the arm between his finger and thumb, then made the figure wave. “I know you want to go back inside your machine. I just think you might want to wait until he’s gone to sleep.” Daniel looked up. “We both know that the treatment hasn’t worked all that well on him. He’s not much different to when we were first picked up.”
“Believe me, Daniel, the treatment has altered him, just like it has with us.” Mortimer looked over to the door. “Come on, do you think he would have let me talk to him like that before those scientists picked us up? It’s all mouth with him now, it’s just bravado.” Mortimer wasn’t sure if any of this was actually sinking in. Daniel had missed most of the conversation; he hadn’t witnessed how their older brother had backed down. “Listen to me, Daniel. He isn’t going to do anything, to me or to you, not ever again.”
Daniel didn’t reply, he just dropped his eyes and started to hunt through his Lego pile. It would take a long time for his brother to stop seeing Martin as some sort of evil monster, considering how badly Martin had treated him when they were younger. Even before The Turning fucked up the world, five years ago, Martin had liked nothing better than to kick the shit out of poor Daniel.
Was it any wonder that his twin had regressed into his second childhood, considering that he never had one the first time around?
“Look, I know that I’ve said this before, and I’ll probably keep saying it until we all eventually get out of here. He’s never touched you in all the years since The Turning, has he? Don’t you think that’s a bit odd, considering we’ve all been living together? At least before, Martin could go out drinking with his mates. He can’t do that now; all his mates are dead, and they don’t let us out.”
"Mortimer, will you promise me that you'll let him calm down before plugging yourself back into your machine?" Daniel’s hands shook as he tried to place the next brick onto the other one. "Maybe you should have let them finish him before killing that girl?" He paused and ran his tongue over his lips. "Mortimer, we both know that he's been defying specific orders about not interfering with girls for a long time. Well, have you ever felt your own body getting excited as well?"
He gazed at Daniel, then ran his own tongue over his lips. What had prompted the sudden change in subject? Mortimer shook his head. "No, of course not," he replied, lying. "We both know that the treatments have suppressed those emotions."
“It hasn’t with him.”
Mortimer sighed. “Oh, I think it has, he’s just trying to prove to us that he’s still a real man. You know what he’s like, he gets off on showing off.”
“Oh, give me a break. I can’t believe that you can stand there and spout out all that bullshit,” added a third voice.
Mortimer gritted his teeth against the sense of shock that had just coursed through his body. He turned and glared at their older brother framed in the doorway, his face proudly wearing a big stupid grin. Mortimer was more annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t even heard Martin approach. Some zombie-hunting warrior he was turning out to be. The thought of ordering his brother to wear a cow bell around his neck did make him feel a little better.
“I’m not a complete idiot, you know. Standing there and preaching like some big fat ugly eunuch. You’re both guilty of spying on me while I’ve been busy entertaining my girls.”
Oh great, that was just marvellous. Now Martin thought that both he and Daniel were perverts. He glanced over at his twin, not all that surprised to see his face glowing like a red light bulb.
“Look, you don’t have to be so coy, guys. We are men, after all, and despite your transparent denials I know that you both have the urges, although I know your urges aren’t as strong as mine.”
“Haven’t you got a body to remove?” snapped Mortimer.
“Just listen to me for a moment. They said that we could have anything we wanted. Anything at all.” Martin shrugged. “It sounded like a good deal at the time, considering that if it hadn’t been for us three, the remainder of the human species would now all be shambling about, stinking up the place and looking for fresh meat.” He walked over to Mortimer and sat down opposite him. "Thing is, although the guys in white coats wanted to keep us sweet, they didn't want us to get all emotional over girls, ‘cause that would have really spoiled the plans that they have for us." He took a small handful of pills from his pocket and dropped them on the table in front of Mortimer. "There's a few days’ worth of treatments there. I stopped taking them two weeks ago."
"That really isn't allowed!" gasped Daniel. "They said that the treatments keep us protected, and it also keeps the antidote in our blood from degrading. You'll get into trouble if they catch you."
“Yeah, I remember them saying stuff like that. Not long after they found out what was in our blood,” said Martin. He walked over to his younger brother and picked up a Lego figure. “I’m telling the truth here, you know. We saved mankind and this is how they reward us? They give you an unlimited supply of fucking Legos.” He turned to Mortimer. “What about you? Come on, guy. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life plugged into that stupid game?”
