Read Online Clickers vs Zombies by Brian Keene, J.F. Gonzalez - Free Book Online Page B

Dr. Brunner was down south along the Baja coast with Dan and another marine biologist from Monterey doing studies on the long-term affects of oil drilling off the California coast. That left Dr. Post alone with Julie and Chelsea. Both women hated each other. Their disdain for each other affected their work so much that Alfred had thought of firing one of them just so he could have some cooperation. Chelsea was a good kid; he could tell she clearly loved the field and wanted only to contribute to it. Julie, on the other hand, was in it for the glory of getting the college credits. Julie was a junior at Long Beach State majoring in marine biology. Alfred had no idea why she’d chosen this field as a major. The girl clearly had no passion for it, much less aptitude.
    As a result, Julie thought Chelsea was a kiss-ass and that she was sleeping with Alfred, Pete, and Dan, which was impossible. Pete was gay and was infatuated with Dan, who was clearly straight and was as oblivious to Pete’s homosexuality as Chelsea was. While no complete dummy, Pete was clearly as clueless as Chelsea was in a lot of things. They’d make a great couple.
    Al pursed his lips in contemplation, looking down at the remains before him.
    Dissected on the stainless steel table before him lay the body of the specimen delivered to his lab last night. Al had gotten the call last night at home that it would be transported to him, and rather than have it delivered at his office at Long Beach State, he’d directed the animal control warden to have it delivered to the Institute, which was situated between San Pedro and Long Beach proper, on a man-made island close to the Port of Los Angeles. Chelsea had checked the specimen in and had called him at home last night around ten-thirty. “You gotta see this thing Dr. Post! It’s frickin’ weird!”
    Alfred had been enjoying a glass of wine with his wife, Janice, on the veranda of his friend Manuel Diaz’s home in Palos Verdes. Manny owned a communications company that specialized in marketing and corporate communications—direct mail, email lists, the works. Al and Christine loved spending time with Manny, who was twice divorced and currently single, the father of two adult daughters. Manny had a sunny disposition that never failed to brighten Al’s day. “The reason I like spending so much time with you is because your happiness rubs off on me,” he always told Manny with a laugh.
    The specimen on the table resembled a cross between a Homarus americanus and a Hadrurus arizonensis . It had arrived at his lab with several gunshot wounds to the back of its thorax, which had shattered its hard shell, the bullet fragments completely destroying its heart; the accompanying report stated the creature had taken several rounds from a police standard-issue .45 caliber handgun, which had initially done no harm. It had the round fired from an M16 semi-automatic rifle that had finally killed the thing. Amazing when you stopped to consider it. It’s shell had been powerful enough to withstand multiple rounds from a .45 caliber handgun.
    Al had performed a necropsy on the animal, first donning the necessary protective gear that was required when dealing with previously unknown or unidentified specimens—latex gloves, rubber vest and apron over the blue knee-length lab coat, surgical mask over his mouth and nose and a large, clear plastic face mask over his face. It was the first time he’d ever taken such extreme measures during a necropsy, but the guidelines at the Southern California Marine Institute were clear—when working with previously unknown species, all personnel who came in contact with the specimen were to use extreme caution at all times and were to wear the necessary protective gear. In hindsight, the guidelines were a good thing—they saved his ass after the specimen was brought in.
    The necropsy started out normal. After starting audio and video recording to capture the necropsy, Al started by making