Friday, February 27, 2009

ZERO

DEAD HAPPY


“Is the patient medicated?” Sophia says.
“Yes Dr. Eastwell, but there is a small problem.” says a large burly black orderly.
“What’s the problem, Ray?” She questioned.
“Well, he seems to have the strongest tolerance to all our sedatives. I’ve dosed him three times with no luck; he’s still wound as tight as a wild baboon.”
The orderly is suddenly cut off in mid breath, “120 mg of lamazipam, and he’s not a vegetable?”
“No doctor he’s in there singing and beating his hands, in rhythm, against his legs and the table.”
Sophia looks up from her clip board, “He’s not restrained?”
“No doctor, when restrained he becomes total catatonic, doesn’t speak, doesn’t blink, hell…… sometimes I have to check if he’s breathing.” Ray says with a hint of concern in his voice.
“I see. Is there anything else I should know about him before I go in to talk to him?” she says in the sternest tone she could muster up.
“Know this…” a ridged voice irrupts from behind the jarred door, “…. His name is Col. Jacob Lubeck, he’s smart, dangerous and has the strongest will I’ve ever encountered in the 23 years I’ve been training special forces personal.” A tall man opens the door, his chest glimmering with meddles. “He’s a professional killer, methodical, ruthless and sadistic, but he grew a conscience so he was pushed out of military and forced to retire his station and command.”
“And you must be Gen. Vanoza?” Sophia says looking back at her notes, “ But , I have all that information here in the file, but the one question I have is, if you let him go then why are you here?”
“He went missing for sometime before the disturbance on the 25th of December where he reappeared and was arrested. I can answer your next question as well….. The military needs information about where he has been and what happened that night? He won’t talk to the military, but he may talk to you.” the general says a matter of fact.
“Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but I’m not going in there till he is sedated.” Says Sophia
“Your drugs will not work on him; he has built up a tolerance to all forms of sedation and the anti-interrogation training he’s been provided with will stop your questioning dead in it tracks.” He pears out in to the hall and waves, then six soldiers come walking into the room carrying cases of beer and whiskey, then the general bent down and plucked a black suit case from around the doorway. “But we have ways to get him on track.”
“You plan to get him wasted to get information? This is ridicules I don’t have time for this. I’m not helping you suck this man for info by getting him drunk.” Sophia throws her clip board down and starts for the door but is stopped quickly by two of the soldiers.
“Doctor you will be arrested and tried for treason if you don’t play ball.” The general says with a grin on his face, “All you have to do is go in there offer him a drink, a cigarette and talk to him, but do not mention anything about me or the army and you’ll be fine”
“Don’t say anything about the army?” asks Sophia
“Yes, nothing about us. He has a strange form of post traumatic stress disorder that stopped his military career and left him in a child like state removing him farther from reality. So with out any trigger, like a gun, he is harmless and content. But this disorder was starting to change just days before he vanished “
“So, your blackmailing my to be your ginipig?
“No doctor your professional opinion and experience with rare disorders is necessary in our investigation and will be rewarded to the best of the militaries ability.” he says holding the door open for her
“Fine, I’ll do it.” She barks while leaving the room.
A white steel door swings open and shuts just as quick and a young pale man falls back against the door taking a gasp of air “ He wants some pot!” he yelps, “And some Wild Turkey.”
“What?” asks Sophia.
“Pot and Wild Turkey.” Repeats the man, “He kept calling me May, he’s a strange one Doc, real strange.”
No. No pot and what the hell is Wild Turkey? she says
“It’s bourbon...” answers the general as he points to one of the soldiers and snaps his finger send the large camo man off running, “...It’s a type of bourbon and yes we’ll give him some marijuana. It will keep him calm and talkative.”
“This is ludicrous.” Sophia says, shacking her head, “but there is no talking to you, is there? At least the man behind this door is some what ready to fill me in with what is going on here. She finishes grabbing the door handle, turns it and disappears behind the big white door..

*****

“Hello! I’m Dr. Easrwell.” Says Sophia as she closes the door.
“Zero” he says saluting her with a half empty beer bottle.
“Zero, is that your given name?” she asks
“The one given to Me.” answers the lighting a cigarette.
“By who Zero?” asks the doctor
“Not who? What?” he says with a hint of sarcasm.
“What, then, gave you that name?” she fishes.
“The universe.” Zero exhales with smoke.
“Really?”
Zero rubs his head and face with his free hand, “Well, I’m not sure what I’m called now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m the first human conscience, that made me Zero, but the others are all dead now.”
Now sitting forward in her seat, “Who, who is dead?”
“One through nine Sophia” he grins
“How did you know my name?” questions the doctor.
“Jesus was the ninth human conscience, there only nine like a count down. He was destroyed by god, the number one,”
“Wait, let’s slow down. What count down?”
“I was visited by Jesus one night and he told me that I was the beginning and end of the human cycle of conscience. He told me to brake the cycle and end the dogma and old way of soul oppression.” He says butting out his cigarette and lighting another right away.
“God killed him for it?”
“It was horrible; I could feel him being ripped to pieces. He told me before he died that god was trying to take the reins of time and space for another term.” Zero says opening a beer with lighter shooting the cap across the room.
“God killed Jesus? I’m finding this a bit hard to swallow.” Sophia challenges.
“What do you think I’m here for? I killed god!” yells Zero now rolling a joint and shaking his head.
“So if you are the last one left, why do we still exist?”
He licks the glue on the rolling paper, “I don’t know, but it’s my time now. I have to find her.”
“Find who?” she asks as he is lighting up his joint.
“The Earth, she saved me for some thing. The end is coming and I think she needs my help.” He answers with strain trying to hold the pot smoke.
Waving the smoke from her face, she asks “The Earth, who is the Earth?”
He closes his eyes, “I’ll never forget her golden hair, windy smile and those eyes one ocean blue and the other tree green.”
“When did you meet her?” she leans in.
“That night when I killed God, she breathed life back into me. I will never forget her.” he says with a smile.
“Can you tell me about before your visit from Jesus?”
He sits forward, his elbows on the table, as his voice and domineer change drastically, “The darkness? Sure I can tell you a tale of total loneliness and fear, the hours and days of dull pain, or maybe something more along the lines of mental anguish. You want to know about the Demon?”
“The Demon?”
“The Demon is in all of us; it will force a man into a monster in seconds. I was an obedient monster, could kill with out a thought, with out a whimper. That sour apple jolly rancher was my last chance at child hood.”“I’m not following, a candy? How is a jolly rancher with the Demon?”
“When I was seven years old, I was sitting in class playing bingo, thinking about how poor and hungry I was. Thinking about my missing father, my mad sister and tired mother, in wonder of tomorrow knowing that today like every other day, I was a loser. So I sold my soul for that jolly rancher candy and from that day forward I was winning but the world around me was losing out. With in 40 days and 40 nights my life turned upside down.” a tear rolls down his cheek, “Then it happened when my little brother was hit by that station wagon, I saw death come for him. Everyone on the street that day released their demon and since I had no soul I was filled with the human nothing.”
“So, you believe that you have a demon inside you right now?”
With a sip of bourbon he clears his throat, “No, I lost it in an African village 18 months ago on assignment. The brass wanted the place wiped off the face of the planet, but finally, I couldn’t do it. I had been a hired murderer for so long, killing people I didn’t know for reasons that I didn’t care about. That was the day when the only feeling or soul I ever felt in me vanished into the rain.”
“What was the difference in your state of mind at this time; do you remember how you felt?” asks Sophia.
“I could see again, the scum, the whores, the demons they call people and worst of all the army of dead that I was working for. When I enlisted in the army I thought that maybe I could use the demon to help but those vampires sucked me for all of my humanity leaving me a ravenous beast ready to do their bidding. The warrior is dead, no more then a myth of a man without love in his heart. That’s the difference between the hunter and the warrior, love. There is no rage in hunting, that’s what they infected me with, rage.”
“And now, do you feel that same rage?”
“Of course, that blood drinking beast is in the next room, listening, waiting for a good time to test my will.” He says tapping S.O.S. on the wall with a boyish smile.
“Your will?” she squints.
Zero stops his tapping, “He’ll probably cut my balls off, or maybe my tongue, no matter this is my time. I have to find the Earth, before they take her. They know that she is dangerous.”
“Why is she a treat to the military?”
He looks up to the air vent, “She’ll decide by her company who survives the end of the world.”

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